Category Archives: Criminal Mind Control

Multi-dimensional Wounding AND Healing

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I’ll talk about this more later.

Blessings on you and on us all.


Healing/Deprogramming with the I Ching!

I could not have been more surprised.

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I’ll let you know how it goes.  Meanwhile, perhaps some of you will purchase ( 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, 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.)

Recommended Video on Mental Wellness

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

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

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

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.

Out of the Woods

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.

Wrote poem last night ~ “Mind Control: In four parts”

Mind Control






skill building



passivity training

mental anesthesia

physical anesthesia

health care











and more.

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…?

Or create!

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.]


Part II

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.


Part III

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.



And round

and round

I go.


“A Good Day to Die” – revisited

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 Screen Shot 2015-02-13 at 8.20.32 PMwhen 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:

solar cook bI 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),

bird nest bagI’ve become a member again of our Southwest New Mexico Fiber Arts Alliance, with my artwork at The Common Thread retail gallery, and two other stores downtown,

front yard windingI planted flowers in the garden a couple of weeks ago,

IMG_2720And 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 ~

Watching “Karla”

orange-new-black-season-3-spoilersImpressed by the incredible actor Laura Prepon, of Orange is the New BlackI looked her up on Wikipedia and read:

MV5BMTYzNjU3OTAzNF5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTcwOTcxMjIzMQ@@._V1._SX94_SY140_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.[7]

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.

(When I wrote my book, RattleSnake Fire, I didn’t think this had anything to do with the rest of my book, or I would have included the story at the start of Chapter 16.)

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.

for a seedI want to cry.  

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.


Screen Shot 2015-02-13 at 8.24.02 PMScreen Shot 2015-02-13 at 8.20.32 PM Screen Shot 2015-02-13 at 8.20.21 PM Screen Shot 2015-02-13 at 8.20.03 PM

– Rapes, psychotic personalitiescuriously 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.

Image result for laura prepon alex vause imagesFlashing 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.)

Image result for laura prepon karla imagesKarla 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:

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.


Friday Foundation: Tortured Congress

WScreen Shot 2015-01-09 at 8.56.37 PMow….  Listening to Cenk Uygur on his Young Turks video show, and while I totally relate to his irate oration, I suddenly realized I was bothered by the bite of his ridicule.

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.

Us_senate_sealIt began when they were very young.  It was consistent, scientific, and ruthless – called MK Ultra.  And now those grown-up tortured children create national policy out of  terror.

They need the same sympathy I do.

And we need to quit pretending they represent us.

Third video!

child face on 62 year old

Wow, for being 62 years old, I sure look like a child here.  Cornelia Wilbur was right – multiples often look decades younger than their ages.

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):

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.

Two Short Videos – Please Share

2 video ssHi Everyone ~

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.”’

Sunday Summary: Highs and (Forgotten) Shocking Lows

– 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):


cosmic-folkrock* 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.

lying here video still lighterWe recorded our original “Lying Here with You” on video, and received great feedback.

Radio Show

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.)

J smI 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.

DSC05441 cuWe 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

reunion crop* I redesigned 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.

greg jean kelly color crop* 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 monster birthphotographed (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.

Other Art

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:

IMG_17252nd half of August:  2 “donut” bruises, 1 injection bruise, 2 scratches similar to biopsy scoops, another injection bruise and other bruise.

hip bruise 1 cropSeptember: 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 two bruises(“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.)

IMG_2099November:  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.

DSC05453December:  Another bruise, dreams of medical procedures; energy “download” followed by no memory; dreams of aliens “all night.”

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 problemWhat 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.

child not smilingAnd I just found this old photo of myself with my mother on a train.  It seems I’m about 5 or 6.

(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….

Why I’m Not on Facebook

facebook-cover1A 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:

“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.

120714 Guthriecr  030Before 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 anywhereuntil 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?

FBI-Secrets-Swearingen-M-9780896085015I 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.

car bomb(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.

facebook-cover1I 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:

Sing-Song Trance

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.

child not smilingI 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.

sleeproom2* (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:

Government Complicity in Violence Against Activists

news-magnifyFrom 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.

taserThank 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.

car bombTwo 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.

Peg_MillettMy 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.


The third-degree Taser burn I woke with one morning while finishing up my first video about mind control in 2010.

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.  ;}


Need to Scream… Memory…. Ah…


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 ~

Defeating the Violence of Psychiatry

Reposted from:
By Robert J. Burrowes – Posted on 12 September 2014

As the movement to abolish psychiatry continues to gather momentum – see ‘On Antipsychiatry’ – it is worth reviewing its delusional foundation, the history of its violence and its function as a weapon of elite social control.

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 TherapyPsychiatric Drug Withdrawal: A Guide for Prescribers, Therapists, Patients and their FamiliesPoint 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 and his website is here.

Minimalist Activist-Artist – MAA guess I shouldn’t use the word hippie anymore.  It has way too many meanings.  Like alien.  Useless.

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

Children Kneel Under Desks During Air Raid DrillWe 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.

rat-raceWe 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.

FamilyFarmScreen5We 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.

stressfreewide-420x0Both 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.

socialsecurity-1My 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. 

Sunday Summary: Another Amazing Week

– 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

IMG_2099I 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).

MV5BMTQyNzI2NDM5MF5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTgwMTY2NTA2MDE@._V1_SY317_CR12,0,214,317_AL_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.

MV5BMTQyNzI2NDM5MF5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTgwMTY2NTA2MDE@._V1_SY317_CR12,0,214,317_AL_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.”.

Screen Shot 2014-11-25 at 11.07.03 AMA 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.

Friday Foundation: Big Picture of Hope

ruled-by-criminalsI quit thinking we could change anything politically or by education a long time ago.  (I’m sorry to say that, activist friends.)

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.

archons-CopyA bigger picture might be terrifying, but it gives me hope, far beyond Earth politics and activism.

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.

capitalismoIn 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.

anima_mundiIt’s good to know we have lives beyond this Earth, and I believe it’s time now to keep our focus in other dimensions where we can connect with our kin beyond this realm.

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….

120714 Guthriecr  030Creating good vibrations in music, design, and community feels good, and it’s probably far more productive.


To read another essay about watching the documentaryThe Abolitionists, which inspired this essay – and more reflections on political activism, click “Political Activism: Why I respect it but can’t do it anymore.”

Political Activism: Why I respect it but can’t do it anymore

abolitionist_film_landing_2It’s hard to believe I was inspired to write my next-up essay, “Big Picture of Hope,” after watching the wonderful documentary, The Abolitionists.  (Also available in public libraries.)

fredrick douglasI’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.

264428_495700630483562_1273273762_nEveryone 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.

Screen Shot 2013-09-21 at 4.02.18 PM

Karla Turner

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.

car bomb

Judi Bari’s car after the bombing

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.


Petition to Enter CIA torture report into Congressional Record

reposted from:

Screen Shot 2014-11-19 at 2.29.04 PMIf 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.

mark-udallThat’s exactly what transparency advocates are calling on outgoing, staunchly anti-torture and pro-transparency Sen. Mark Udall to do.

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.

Blue America
Daily Kos
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Digby’s Hullabaloo
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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.


I signed.


Friday Foundations: MK – JUST like humans treat their animals

crop-big_lie_cover_72_dpiOne of the biggest lies we’ve been told is that life – at least all the life we need be concerned with – stops at Earth’s atmosphere.

Not only does life not stop there, but neither does politics, war, commerce, science, or any other aspect of culture stop at Earth’s atmosphere.

Rather, we’re part of a larger community we’ve simply yet to understand collectively – sort of like cattle, sheep, and apple trees in an orchard don’t understand their situation – or maybe they do, better than we!  (Except for those of us who’ve been forced to see what others have the luxury to ignore.)

There’s plenty of evidence, including documentation by the “ranchers” themselves, that we are, indeed, creatures, creation, projects, students, subjects, prey, a combination, or something else subservient to other wiser beings – evidence throughout time and throughout the world, across every culture, recorded on stone and clay tablets and papyrus and guarded for millennia.

Accepting the corollary lie that humans exist as the pinnacle of evolution, under no one’s control but our own, allows our real rulers to hide as “us,” and keeps humans from perceiving reality and thereby making continuing, serious political and other sorts of errors.

museo-nazionale-del-cinemaSo activists (like I used to be) often beat our heads on the wall trying to communicate with politicians as if those others were operating from a human viewpoint, perhaps just skewed in a way that compelling information can correct.  (Wrong.  If they’re human, they’re beholden to and controlled by the Others.)

We are all in a web of multiple “spiritual” relationships, at least one of which is an increasingly tightly-controlled one with beings who do not have human motivations or Earth-protective intentions.  This explains poisoning the Earth’s water and air, inserting “terminator genes” into our food genetics, fracking the Earth’s crust to poison underground water sources, grossly misinforming people, encouraging wars and racism, and so much more.

Many humans insist they find the idea of Others beyond Earth or beyond this dimension impacting our Earth experience impossible or unlikely.  But the theory is entirely coherent with everything we see in Nature, including human nature:   wolf-in-sheeps-clothingpatterns of prey and predator, parasite and host, teacher and student, cooperation, collaboration, resource extraction, etc.  My assertion is simply that it’s more extensive and multi-dimensional than we’ve been led to believe.

However, we’ve all learned very well by now not to limit our thinking to what we’ve been taught.  And so I challenge us all to open our eyes to “hidden” realities.

Our human situation in relation to these Others today is totally unrecognized in social, political, religious and academic life.  Unable to talk about it, we thereby don’t think about it.  Result:  a mild and not uncomfortable sort of cultural mind control.  Not uncomfortable, but making us ineffective in our actions.

Some people who do acknowledge their extra-dimensional relationships describe them in spiritual terms:  angel, god/goddess, teacher, guide, or spiritual helper.  And I believe some extra-dimensional relationships are indeed that.

But others are apparently relationships much like we have with our animals, even our favorite animals:  We cage them, control their diets, control their territory, operate on them, force medicine on them, breed them.  We also allow others to treat animals in more grotesque ways and then pay those individuals to eat their animal products.   Of course, there are also many worse treatments I’ll leave unspoken for now.

FinancialPRAgenciesTheBigLiesSo, the idea that beings from other dimensions or planets seem to be a lot like us – greedy, conniving, lying, willing to inflict pain and discomfort – shouldn’t be received as if it were outlandish.  On the contrary, we should call it normal, as it’s exactly like us!  Maybe we even learned these negative traits from their treatment of us.

Therefore, when people report being experimented on by “aliens,” or having their DNA changed, or their eggs, sperm, or fetuses removed, or being dosed with drugs, or even bred – I wonder if people realize they’re rejecting as outlandish what human science is proud to announce, and what we often participate in and support with our dollars.

There are so many different beings, helpful and harmful, described throughout time, but they also have many similarities recounted across vastly different cultures, attesting to their reality.

Some may be like corporate raiders or resource extractors, and others akin to gods, angels, helpers, and guides.  Others might be like researchers, ambassadors, or even missionaries.  And  demons are not beyond discussion.

We have a hard time judging this with the subject being taboo and our language intentionally skewed to confuse us – with all these being lumped together under one heading, “aliens,” which we’ve been taught to ridicule with silly cartoons.

To begin to learn, we need to identify each type and their intentions – which many researchers have begun, collecting data on over 100 different species, categorized by whether they collaborate with our government or not, and what activities they’re commonly reported as engaged in.

We are certainly Someone’s creation.  (Most of the world’s religions and cultures agree with this, and we humans seem to have become Creators on Earth ourselves, so how can this be outrageous?)  We may be their progeny, or their project.  In any case, they may have expectations for us that are not our expectations.

Since their ways are not our ways (“saith the Lord”), their actions from other dimensions might not always translate properly to our three-dimensional minds, and we probably misinterpret a lot of experiences and assign wrong intentions and maybe even think things evil when they’re only obliviousness of our sensitivity (like we treat animals) or expediency for a purpose we don’t understand.

Some of it could be truly “evil” as all the world’s religions agree.  And today we read so much in news (if the news is true) that seems patently evil; it would explain what people report and why our government denies so much that’s obvious.

Benevolent beings – let’s not forget – are all around us on other dimensions too, according to religion and contemporary testimony.

yy12So it seems our life on Earth is a dance of dark and light, delight and horror, prey and predator, teacher and student, villain and savior, slaver and slave, parasite and host or combinations or permutations.

This may be frightening to some, but it’s coherent with human history, ancient and contemporary lore, biology, chemistry, and all of life.

It’s hard to accept that some of these intelligent beings are no more nice than humans.  Microcosm, macrocosm.

imagesInterestingly, opening our eyes to the hidden reality (seeing past the Big Lie) is the meaning of the word apocalypsenow laden with images of horror – not because that’s what the word means, but because it’s probably what must eventually come from millennia of our ignorance before we wake up and see.

Seeing with clear vision – the real meaning of the apocalypse – will be essential if we’re to survive as something like what we want to think of as “human.”


TV Lies

united_states_of_tara_titleI just learned (having not watched TV since 1974) there’s a TV show called “United States of Tara” which depicts a character who supposedly “became multiple” as a teenager (highly unlikely),  whose behavior is highly destructive – also unlikely, since dissociation is an adaption discovered in order to create functionality.

An excellent critique of the show has been written by a therapist of 20 years on her Discussing Dissociation website, here:


Some excerpts:

As a trauma therapist with 20+ years of clinical experience working with multiples, I have to say I’m quite frustrated that Showtime has presented multiplicity in this way.

… there is not a medication that can remove or prevent or end dissociative identity disorder.  Medications can address various symptoms, and can even slow the thinking down, but medication cannot remove multiplicity….

I can understand that the visual presentation of the various alters is metaphorical for how switching feels from within.  …For the Tara show, the insiders get to look as extremely different on the outside as they feel on the inside.  However, it’s not typical for DID’ers to actually present so drastically even if they wish they could.  [JE:  DID’ers = people with Dissociative Identity Disorder, which I call “multiples”]

The different presentations of Tara are excessive….

Now to my biggest beef about United States of Tara: the criminal behavior.

…The multiples I have met in the past 20+ years are not out-of-control monsters like this.  …DIDer’s might have flashbacks or a hard time functioning or emotional outbursts, but typically, trauma survivors will have enough self-control to manage their behavior without committing a crime in public.

Showtime crossed the line by making Tara a sex offender.

It is true that many multiples have been tangled up in sexual crimes, but typically, multiples that are in treatment have not chosen the life of a sex offender.  All too many trauma survivors were forced to perpetrate as part of their victimization by organized perpetrator groups, or even by violent single abusers, but being forced to hurt others is not anything near the same as purposefully deciding to sexually offend in the day world.

Most multiples are not sexually inappropriate of their own volition.

…What a slam.

A great big huge insulting ridiculous slam.

38 comments followed before mine.  I commented:  From your description, I hate it!  But I quit watching television in 1974 (with maybe 100 hours watched since then), and your description of this show says why:  TV is a huge misinformation/disinformation enterprise – selling us ideas always in someone else’s benefit.  It’s in the culture’s benefit to misrepresent and confuse images about who we are.  As a “high-functioning” (sometimes) multiple (I prefer this term), I’m really offended.  Our work of explaining our condition to others has been made infinitely more difficult with these sorts of images.

(And I just returned to add another comment:)  I absolutely believe that this show was crafted as disinformation, probably because the CIA and other perpetrator groups have seen such numbers of their experimental subjects begin remembering their experiences that they need to discredit us all as a group.

Your comments?

172 words – start of my new memoir? Give me feedback!

I think I’ve been afraid for a very long time to be too powerful.  But I’m trying to get over that.  So here’s my second attempt at beginning a new memoir.  I’m also thinking of entering it in a memoir contest.  I’d love you’re feedback.  

After the Second World War, my father and mother lived on the GI Bill while he attended veterinary college and my mother kept house.  It was July 7, 1952, 4:25 a.m., eight minutes before a precise full moon, that I was born.

The next things I’ll share I’d have cringed at in embarrassment most of my life, but something has to explain the crazy life I’ve lived:  It was not only a Full Moon, but a Monday, long ago known as Moon-day, and smack-dab in the middle of Cancer, previously known as Moon Children.  And the eight minutes between my birth and full moon is 2/1000th of a degree, dang close to precise.

Dwight David Eisenhower, my grandfather’s second cousin (or so claims the family), would be nominated to the Republican ticket as candidate for President of the United States later that day.  Our local paper would write a smarmy short column about the coincidence.

At home on the UC Davis campus, the CIA was experimenting with mind control as they had on various campuses for the last five years.  I would live on this campus for the first fourteen months of my life.

(Thank you for your comment!)

Sunday Summary:  Two Positive Weird-ities!

UnknownWhat a pleasure to report nothing weird all week – except for two things positive!

One non-normal happening was my sighting of a series of – apparently – energetic beings in a storm cloud!  Now, I’ve never seen this sort of thing before*, though I also would not automatically discount it.  Still, I was very surprised to see an approaching storm cloud rolling our way suddenly “open up” – and an energetic being didn’t just appear, but sort of teasingly danced, as if to say, “You see me!  I know you see me!  Don’t pretend you don’t see me!”

When I silently accepted that, yes, I did see “her,” she disappeared into the cloud, and another spot in the cloud opened up to display another being with an entirely different energy.  One after another, different beings with different energies displayed themselves, conveying to me that a storm cloud is filled with energies of all sorts, some ready to inflict damage on the land beneath, others ready to bless the land with rain.

paracelsusHow do I explain this?  Years ago, I wrote an essay titled, “Paracelsus, Rudolph Steiner, and Aliens,” a summary of the best-selling author Peter Thompkins’ book The Secret Life of Nature: Living in Harmony with the Hidden World of Nature Spirits from Fairies to Quarks.  

Below are two short paragraphs from that essay, which will explain why, until I’d seen these beings myself, I would not have immediately discounted the idea, despite our “rational” training in this culture:

Paracelsus gathered his data by going straight to his source, Nature, in which he steeped himself deeply.  He also asked herbalists, faith healers, gypsies, hermits, witches and anyone else who claimed knowledge of the healing arts – aside from doctors – what they knew.  He discovered that their lore had a form and structure which matched his own experiences of intelligent, immaterial beings working within nature.  [my underline]

The rebel alchemist defined these spiritual intelligences as “elementals,” which he explained perform important tasks, that we in the first world today call “forces of nature.”  These elementals are also identical with the beings that mystics and primitive societies call spirits of mountain, sea, storm, etc.

So, I’m honored to have been blessed with this small vision.  (* And I now recall a similar experience from a decade ago, I’ll recount at the end.)

DSC05256The second strange thing this week, just for the record:  my left shoulder continues to feel highly sensitive, as it has for months, but the bruise (pictured here, near the former implant site) that had been there for over a year is finally entirely gone!  And the implant removal injury, seen in the photo, is gone too.

Other than those two things, my sleep was “normal,” I found no marks on my body, and I enjoyed a lot of mundane pleasures:  for one, my partner and I DSC05441 cubuilt the last section of fence around the house, including two gate handles hand-crafted from an oak branch.

* Regarding the similar storm cloud vision a decade ago (recounted in my book, RattleSnake Fire):  I was sitting on the west-facing porch with my daughter and a friend, watching an Arizona sunset-storm, with clouds of charcoal gray filling the sky, rimmed with dramatic golds and reds.

Suddenly, we all gasped when two “eyes” simultaneously “opened up” to the northwest, glowing gold.  The two eye-shaped spots opened together as if they had upper and lower lids, and after we’d all noticed them and expressed surprise, they closed together.  A moment later, two identical “eyes” opened up about 20 degrees higher in the sky and, after we’d again exclaimed in astonishment at their similarity to the first two eyes, they too closed.

The next thing we knew, my daughter stood up, saying she wanted to go inside.  I recognized she was uncomfortable, which I attributed to the mystical nature of the “eyes.”  I stood up to follow her, saying, “It means something.  I know it means something.”

Having turned to go inside, now facing south, I noticed the next strange thing – but the whole event doesn’t make sense unless we accept that we’d all had “missing time”:  A new opening in the clouds to the south caused us to gasp again, but this time, instead of light shining through, we saw the dark, starry sky.  (Had an hour or more of time passed, for which we had no memory?)

The opening was just a long strange-shaped crack – exactly the shape to show just the stars of Scorpio, but no other stars!  I knew this was an omen, and stood in amazement while the others hurried inside.  I did not know that Scorpio is often a sign of death; I only knew that the sting was hurtful.  “Something painful has happened,” I said, adding, “something to do with a shaman” – the last words I had no idea why I’d said them, except that I’d felt them.

The next day, we got the message that a friend had died in a tragic car accident that night, in Washington state – to the northwest, the direction of the eyes.  Within a few days, I’d also learn that she’d spent the last year traveling in Mexico, living and training with a shaman and a midwife, and people were beginning to call her a shaman.

UnknownIn short, yes, I believe we can get signs everywhere (from truthful spirits and tricksters – so beware).  And I’m grateful to have received these playful messages this week, reminding me.


Good Health Practices for Any Sort of Healing Need

Fred Burks just sent me an email full of health practices that I wish I’d written (and I’ve been meaning to write, but haven’t gotten around to it).  If you’re feeling the need for a “check up,” check out Fred’s list here:

header– and then check out the rest of his site, especially his tab on Mind Control!  His site contains “reliable, verifiable information on major cover-ups and a call to work together for the good of all!”  Thanks, Fred.

Mind Control, Multiple Personality, & Me

For subscribers who haven’t visited in awhile, I’m posting the contents of my new Home page.  The entire site has been recently reorganized, rewritten, and become, I hope, a more useful, and “friendly,” resource for those needing to learn about this subject.  I invite you to visit.

reunion cropI am an educator on mind control, artist, author, publisher, mind-controlled “multiple personality” in healing, and activist working for the healing and human rights of mind control subjects.

To that end, I offer these pages of information – non-academic, easy-to-read – which touch on folklore, history, religion, spirituality, cosmos, and culture as they relate to mind control and multiple personality — along with my personal, on-going reports on the path to healing.  Below is a 3-minute video, produced in 2010:

Is Multiple Personality Disorder “crazy”?  Actually, it’s considered a creative solution, usually emerging accidentally in childhood, to keep from going crazy when experiencing something like torture.  The vast majority of us experienced torture as children in one way or another.

Children under torturous conditions who don’t “leave their bodies” and dissociate, and the torture is repeated, usually become schizophrenic.  So dissociation, MPD, is a blessing in disguise, as it’s fairly easy to heal (unless complicated by mind control); whereas, schizophrenia is considered incurable.

How it comes about, in simple terms:  Under extreme stress, a person, especially a child, might “leave their body” to escape unbearable pain; the mind, however, keeps recording – now on a blank slate – which then becomes another personality.  This creates a pattern in the person called dissociation; with ongoing stress, the pattern is repeated.  (Today MPD is called Dissociative Identity Disorder, but many of us prefer the old term.)

real old cu




Being a multiple personality has not been easy, but it’s been far less difficult than typically depicted in books and movies, and in some ways, it seems to be an advantage:  I have the capacity to manage a wide variety of mental tasks, as I seem to have a lot of “minds” holographically in my being.  Managing them is the trick, and I have always done pretty well, most of the time.  (At the bottom of this post are some of my accomplishments.)

The common perception of “multiples,” as being tragically out of their own control, is true for some, but many multiples are also very high-functioning, even testing at genius levels (as I have a few times), though they often have severe mental, psychological, emotional, and spiritual challenges — as readers of my book can appreciate.

Candyjones_cover-210Mind Control  There’s also, obviously, a very serious downside to “multipleness,” which is that the people or groups who created my alters probably still have access to my programming and may continue to re-program me to use at will.  When they do, I have bizarre perceptions, find wounds on my body, and afterward usually am severely depressed and sometimes emotionally incapacitated for extended periods of time.

Despite the foregoing, I must acknowledge the positive aspect of multiple-ness because it masks my disability.  In other words,  I look not only “sane” and “normal” nearly all the time, but sometimes exceptional; therefore, a person might ask, how could my crazy theory be true?

I also mention the positive aspect because it contains my hope for full recovery:  Having the perspective of many minds, I have, since 1993, been working with my alters, untangling messes, and removing unwanted programs.  It has taken time and emotional stamina, sometimes incapacitating me for mundane things, at which times, I have not appeared “exceptional” at all, but severely messed up.  And I’m still not “one.”  But, I’m working on it.

Jean SCM crop 3w


Friends and acquaintances who know my story often don’t know what to make of it, because they rarely see the symptoms or don’t recognize them, so I’m accepted well enough in my community to be employed (when I want and am able) and have a wide circle of friends.  Besides, so many people are struggling with something.  

My hidden disability, though, makes it very hard to make a living, and I’ve been bailed out by my parents many times.   Good therapists seem to be rare and hard to find, or else I’ve been controlled to avoid them, or they’ve been threatened by my controllers into avoiding treating me (commonly reported by others).

taser cuThe worst of my experiences involving apparent mind control – that I recall – happened in 2010:  I woke up extremely debilitated after a ten-hour sleep and found a third-degree Taser burn on my arm.

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

2014 This bruise showed up ten days after another very similar showed up on the back of my leg. No explanation except…

Much more is documented on this site, including weird bruises, apparent injection bruises (most common), a broken door lock, deep vaginal lacerations, biopsy “scoop marks,” and more.

DSC01402Why am I not terrified?  Well, I have been, and suicidal more times than I can count.  But I’ve talked myself out of it. I’ve worked and prayed to try to understand our world, Good and Evil, the psyche and our power to navigate treacherous waters.  And here I am.

DSC02944Life has been moving on an upward course since I’ve been focusing my spiritual practice.  I have a wonderful home and garden, lots of friends and friendly acquaintances, a supportive partner, enough work to pay the bills, and a satisfying artist’s life.

After 38 years of never singing in public (stage phobia related to mind control), in 2009 I began to sing publicly again – a most amazing breakthrough for my mind and psyche.  And I’ve regained my ability to participate in life and see what Goodness I can add to our amazing human drama here.

And as a life-long activist for a variety of causes (saving mountains and downtown inner city schools, for instance), I now feel called to shine light on this criminal enterprise which steals people’s free will.  I thank you very much for reading this far.  I applaud your courage.

How do I really know I was a mind control subject?  Check this page for a little bit more of my personal and family history.


I pray the content here and in my book helps others trying to understand their own stories and heal.

My best advice after gathering information:  Remember fear and anger are natural, but a stage to go through and to move beyond.  Remember that everything Good in this world is stronger, eventually, than the Dark, and focus on that Good.  And check out my pages on Healing!

If you believe in a benevolent Higher Power, by whatever name, connect, hold fast, communicate, listen, and keep the best possible vision in mind in order to generate a vibration sympathetic with the energies of the Higher Power.

Today I believe these experiences have blessed me with one other thing:  greater awareness than I would ever have had of the larger realities of this world.  Therefore, they are extremely important to my life.  We do believe we have the power to survive, understand, and help things improve for each other.

I have no idea exactly how.  I feel that everyone on this planet, though, is facing a huge cataclysm very soon, and our world will change in ways we are probably not prepared for, and our minds are probably not prepared for.

So it will require an especially flexible mind to survive the ontological shock I believe is coming.  And those of us who’ve already been shocked out of our shoes – who knows? – we might find it easier to adapt and see and respond to what’s going on.

Ontological shock is the disorientation a person endures when deep foundations of their mental framework become shaken.  It will change our entire meaning of life – and who we think we are as humans.  (Sort of like many lifelong Catholics have been experiencing for a decade or more, or a married person feels when they discover their spouse is cheating, or a parent feels when a baby is born with a problem, or anyone feels when someone near them suddenly dies – but much bigger.)

Our current structure of thought will not survive the changes.  Words will truly fail us.  So it’s imperative we get our energies, our vibrations clear, to be able to trust our perceptions.

Blessings on you ~

(p.s.  All these photos were taken in the last couple of years, though I often look decades different in age.)

More info

Screen Shot 2014-04-15 at 2.32.31 AMFor more on how it feels – to me – to be a multiple personality, check out this page:  Multiple-ness:  What it Feels Like.

cia doctorsFor a quick definition and overview of Mind Control  – check out my page “Mind Control Defined.”

break programming copyFor links to some of my Healing posts, check out “Hope for Healing.”

And please remember to “Join/Listen!” (Button’s up top in the right corner.)

Off this site, has an excellent site with mainstream documentation on many controversial topics, including mind control.


RF 2nd Ed coverAuthor:  RattleSnake Fire: a memoir of extra-dimensional experience;
The 2013 or Year One Almanac, Datebook, and Journal;
the 2004 Almanac/Datebook/Journal for Southern Arizona;
the 2003 Almanac, Datebook and Journal for Tucson and Southern Arizona;
the international Permaculture Drylands Journal (associate editor, 1989-91);
and numerous articles and newsletters, including international publications.
Praise“great literature….tour de force!….important historical document,” and more.

Awards in journalism (UPI First Place, Arizona-Utah region), creative writing, art, theater, videography, real estate, Permaculture, and national recognition for non-profit fundraising.  Others:  served in Leaders Circle of Tucson Resources for Women.  Invited to Leadership Tucson and Mensa.  Served on numerous local boards, twice as president.


Thanks for visiting ~

“Friday Foundation” [of this MK stuff]

Each week, after posting “Friday Random Beauty,” I plan to post a yin/yang opposite essay titled “Friday Foundation” [of this MK stuff].  This is the first.



Mind Control in History” led a recent poll of my readers for subjects you’re most interested in.

By coincidence, I happened to touch on the subject in my journal this week when I was feeling particularly down:

My choices are:  amnesic slavery to criminal psychopaths who threaten me with more torture, or…?

I guess a lot of humans have lived with this choice.  In fact, I think it’s the history of the world.  (Does it make me feel better – that I’m not all alone in this?  Hardly, but I feel that my eyes have been opened.)

We pretend those millennia of slavery were in our barbaric past, but I’m realizing now they’re still very much with us – just taboo to be spoken of, as we all go about the ruse that we’re free in this nation.

The impoverished majority knows we are not free, but they dare not speak it for fear their few freedoms will be lost.  People of the “wrong” race, people of certain bloodlines (mind controlled), and people who’ve been randomly abused by the rulers know, but most of us usually keep quiet when things go mostly our way.

Because I’m not a historian (far from it!), this will not be a comprehensive treatment of the world history of mind control, but I promise, with readers’ help, to add to this page over time.  So I welcome – no, strongly encourage, plead for – your comments, reminders, and educated additions to my scattershot ramblings here.

“History is written by the conquerors,” we’ve all been told, and so I’ve always distrusted and disrespected it, and sure enough, Americans are beginning to understand now how much of our history has been a lie.  Still, of what we think we know, much of it supports my thesis.



The image above I chose because it defines history unapologetically as “The Game of Rising Empires and Falling Powers.”  (Thank you, poster artist, for being so honest.)  It’s all about consolidating planetary power and controland I assert that it includes mind control and has for a very long time.

Let’s start as far back as we know, in Sumer.  Sumer appeared suddenly on Earth, seemingly out of nowhere (as if dropped from the sky), with a full-blown civilization including roads, plumbing, language, law, accounting, libraries, universities, armies, religions, etc. – when nowhere before had there been anything but stone age artifacts.  American academia tells us its appearance is a “mystery” yet to be solved, while they denounce a very logical explanation from the Sumerians themselves!

The Sumerian library contains tens of thousands of clay tables impressed with their history, accounting, genealogies, legal proceedings, and other records.  American academics, though, tell us the history is only fable, even though that history neatly explains the “unsolved mystery.”

Scientific process asks us to consider all the evidence, even if we don’t like it, and even if people in power tell us not to look at it.  So let’s look!  (Maybe we’ll discover some American academic mind control.)

The Sumerians went to great effort to leave a detailed record about the civilization created on Earth when the Anunnaki (“people who came from above”) decided to settle here to mine gold.  When their workers rebelled at the conditions in the gold mines, they undertook genetic engineering to create new slaves who would accept being miners – resulting in the first Earth humans.

But the humans rebelled, and the Anunnaki (gods) continued to be frustrated that the humans demanded so much.  The gods used punishment, offered rewards, and created moral codes and religions, setting up priests to lead the people.  And when humans especially frustrated them, they decided to let the entire population be wiped out by a Flood they knew was coming.

After the Flood, as recounted in the Hebrew Bible – which has apparently consolidated the Sumerian story of two ruling Anunnaki brothers into a single, self-contradictory deity – Enlil/Jehovah decided, when a few humans survived, to let them live but to shorten their lifespan from hundreds of years to 120 years, so that humans wouldn’t have time to learn enough about their own lives and pass it on to their children, thereby keeping the race dumbed down – mind control by genetic engineering.

And sure enough, today most people in their later years realize they haven’t really understood life well enough, especially with the lies we’re told in school, to live well until they are almost outa here!

Now, add to that our American culture’s idealization of youth and disregard of the aged, and we can see how elder wisdom has little chance of being passed on to succeeding generations, assuring that the rulers of culture, rather than parents or grandparents, will determine the mindsets of the people.

Of course, minions were needed for the rulers to accomplish all they have, so some humans were recruited into higher ranks, given perks, and so began class and racial distinction, secret societies, racial strife, and more.

This is painting with a very broad brush, I acknowledge, but it explains a lot that exists on Earth, which I assert is not human-caused.  It’s caused by gods (small g) manipulating humans throughout the eons, perverting and despoiling human potential for the gods’ own purposes.  Some might even call these gods demons.  (And one particular demon asserts that he and all who follow him may be gods.  Interesting twists in language and meaning, huh!?)

I hope my interpretation of the gods is not confused with my or anyone’s concept of God (capital G), a loving Prime Source Creator, which I do choose to believe in.  The confusion between God and gods and demons is likely an intentional part of our cultural mind control – complicated even further by the use of the oversimplified word alien – which we’ll deal with in another post.

Dictionaries have always been created by the rulers.  Look to see what they include and what they don’t.  For instance, heathen and pagan, the dictionaries tell us, mean someone Godless; yet those words only meant “people of the heath” (meadow-dwellers) and “people of the forest” – but those meanings were perverted when the people living in nature resisted the Catholic Church’s efforts to draw them to the city with threats of the terrors of The Inquisition!  Language and social control operating hand-in-hand.

Even today, all the words used for millennia to describe the changing of the seasons – Samhain, for instance, the “cross-quarter” day between the Autumn Equinox and Winter Solstice, that has become Halloween – and is still observed by many who now call themselves pagans – and the rest of the eight days, except for Yule (Winter Solstice), are simply ignored, though you can find many other less-used cross-cultural words in the dictionary.  Controllers of language are working hard to keep us separated from nature – and I suggest: our more-powerful natural selves.

Unknown-1Regarding our concept of time, (excerpt from an earlier post), Jose Arguelles published in 2002 a substantial book – Time and the Technosphere – calling the Gregorian calendar the most fundamental aspect of human mind control.  (A web search for the title will bring up many videos and articles by others resonating with this idea that the calendar is basic to our control.)

While some of the metaphysics of Arguelle’s book feels beyond me, I’ve certainly felt the subtle mind control that it is.

images-1From the time we sit in kindergarten, reciting, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday…, we understand we are part of a system which cycles 5-2-5-2-5-2-5-2…work 5 long days, play 2 short days, work long, play short, work long, play short.  And everything from that moment on which has anything to do with a calendar reminds us that we are part of a world of 5-2-5-2-5-2, work long, play short.

The natural world teaches us something nicer:  slower cycles of 14-14-14-14… and balance.

As I wrote in all my Almanacs:

Ancient people invented – or discerned – patterns that seemed to facilitate harmonious living, that encouraged an energetic cycling of activity and rest, like inhaling and exhaling, waking and sleeping, summer energy and winter hibernation….

Today’s lifestyle requires many people to work intently for five consecutive days, resting for only two, relying on caffeine and/or other drugs to keep themselves going.  Perhaps the equal cycles of waning and waxing moons might inspire us to create more balance in our lives.


There are many more types of social mind control:  manipulative economics, false education (mixed with useful), indoctrinated racism, violence, threats of violence, genocide, malnutrition, toxic environments, political charades, and more.  All these influence our ability to think, our thinking processes, our moods, our initiative, etc.

Along the way, someone discovered hypnosis and the propensity for certain traumatized people  (handy that rulers have often traumatized people) to “dissociate,” become suggestible, amnesic and obedient.  In the 19th century in Europe, people like Anton Mesmer drew world attention for dramatic stage shows and crowds of the well-to-do seeking “healing” by “magnetism.”  By the 1940s, European police, eyewitnesses and court were the first to extensively document the plight of one victim of criminal mind control, Palle Hardrup, which I wrote about in an earlier (and most searched-for) post.

Eventually, less brutal broad-scale mind control was directed through “news” and entertainment.  Then it was personalized with highly sophisticated means of delivering to each person exactly what pacifies each.

So here we sit, in front of our computers, working, surely, and enjoying connection with friends and loved ones, but also accessing pleasure of an infinite variety, feeling a sense of participation, given creative expression, filling up our days with whatever we want, ready at our fingertips, keeping us too occupied to resist whatever culture has in store for us next.  We can choose to learn history, but most people will choose pleasure.

If we think do we want to change something, we click an icon to tell our political representatives to please vote this way or that, but most of those politicians are mind controlled and paid well to ignore us.

What historical aspects of mind control are most glaring to you?  I’d love to hear from you.

Criminal Hypnosis: the case of Palle Hardrup/Hardwick (repost)

This is the most popular post on my site, from January 2012.  

It’s long – but fascinating history!  The documentation by the courts is impressive.  The human story a heartbreak.  

It’s important for this reality to be fully appreciated today.  It’s happening still, and understanding that would explain a lot..


Thanks to the arrogant bragging of a criminal hypnotist Bjorn Nielsen, his manipulation of Palle Hardrup (also Hardwick) in Denmark in the 1940s to rob a bank and murder a teller and bank manager was witnessed by numerous people and corroborated by a police investigator, resulting in Palle’s acquittal – unfortunately, only temporary.

Nielsen was a street-smart, self-taught con man who bragged in prison about having developed a “perfect” crime, in which someone else would take the fall.

Palle Hardrup had been a serious, spiritually-minded teenager when he was recruited – for three months which he said ruined his life – into the Nazi party and then was sent to prison after the occupation along with other Nazis.  There, he was recognized by prison staff as a “polite…well-behaved…young idealist,” though Palle wrote in his journal about his depression and despair over his relationship with God.

Nielsen befriended Palle with stories of his spiritual mastery and, because Nielsen had daily access to Palle on the prison workforce, he was able to slowly convince him to let him be his teacher, though Palle initially resisted.  Yoga and meditation exercises eventually led, when they became cellmates, to trance states and hypnosis.  After daily contact for most of two years, Palle and Nielsen were both released.

Nielsen was able to convince Palle to marry a woman he did not love in order to get him out of his parents’ home, and then tried, less successfully, to make his wife another hypnotic subject, but he didn’t spend as much time with her.

He also filled Palle with ideas of a national revolution for which Palle would be the instigator, and for which Nielsen had Palle draw up organizational charts and badges for members while he was under hypnosis, to support a story he’d have Palle tell as an explanation for why he needed the money, should he be caught.

After two more years of hypnotic conditioning, Palle robbed the first bank and gave all the money to Nielsen, but felt confused when his wife asked him questions that hadn’t been covered by his hypnotic instructions.  His phone calls to Nielsen calmed him but aroused his wife’s suspicions.

Two years later, when Nielsen’s money was running out, he tapped Palle again for another robbery.  This time, the teller hesitated and Palle, in hypnotic trance, shot the teller and the bank manager dead.

When an alarm went off, which had not been covered by hypnotic suggestion, Palle became suddenly wide awake, confused, and panic-stricken.  Nevertheless, when he was captured, he followed his programming and claimed to have robbed the bank entirely alone without any accomplice.  Nielsen had chosen to be out of the country at the time.

When news of the robberies and murders was published, fellow prisoners began to come forward, including one who told investigators that Nielsen had made Palle “virtually a slave, giving up all his personal possessions and even much of his prison food to him.  The code, or trigger sign which always sent Hardrup into a deep trance, was the sign of an X, and Nielsen had so conditioned his subject that whenever this sign was made, he went straight into a state of somnambulance.  The informer insisted that although Hardrup had carried out the raid, Nielsen’s was certainly the mind controlling him at the time.”  (police investigator notes)  Released prisoners and those still in prison all told authorities the same thing:  Palle was Nielsen’s hypno-puppet.

Palle, however, continued to protect Nielsen, claiming to have committed the robberies and murders to fund his revolution, and the first doctor to see him diagnosed him as having a “psychotic-like condition” caused by subjection to prolonged, intensive hypnotraining.

Police decided to question Palle again with Nielsen in the room, during which they noticed that Nielsen sat “forward with elbows on knees, arms crossed and hands on his shoulders, thus making a clear X sign.  When told to sit properly, he changed his position for a more upright one, but immediately crossed his legs.  For the duration of the interrogation, a matter of some three hours, he stared intently into Hardrup’s eyes.  It was observed that whenever Nielsen made an X sign, Hardrup renewed his own confessions and protestations of Nielsen’s innocence.”

While Palle was in jail, Nielsen sent him daily letters with innocuous content, always signed with an X.  Another prisoner told authorities that Nielsen had paid him to draw X marks on walls where Palle was sure to see them.

Nielsen was defended in court by the best attorneys money could buy, while the police called in Dr. Paul Reiter, one of Denmark’s foremost hypnosis experts, a lecturer at the University of Copenhagen on psychotherapy and psychosomatic medicine, and an expert on criminal psychiatry.  Until meeting Palle, he did not believe that criminal hypnosis was possible.

Over a period of months, Reiter was able to break through Nielsen’s programming to program Palle instead to begin chronicling his relationship with Nielsen over the years, in careful detail, only what he knew was absolutely true with no embellishment.  With Nielsen’s communications broken, Palle began to write about and finally come to understand his four years of hypno-programming by Nielsen.

In court, the police seated Nielsen and Palle next to each other, and witnesses claimed to overhear Nielsen remind Palle of his duty to X, after which it took Reiter ten days to return their hypnotic rapport to what it had been.

Unfortunately, Nielsen’s defense team was able to have Palle’s attorney dismissed from the case and replaced by a new attorney who had only two weeks to prepare to argue one of the most technically unfamiliar and complex legal cases to ever enter the Danish court system.

At trial, Palle and Nielsen were again seated next to each other, where Nielsen murmured about what X wanted.

Toward the end of the trial, both Nielsen and Palle were given one week to read Reiter’s report on Palle, and Reiter was not allowed to see Palle during this time.

Reiter’s report reflected his clinical strategies, tightly focused on winning the case by proving that Palle could indeed be hypno-programmed – but it was not written with what might have been a therapist’s concern for a client’s sensibilities on reading about his own victimization.  Despite the fact that Palle had written down memories of what Nielsen had done to him, he had not yet fully processed the emotions.

Reiter pleaded with the court to delay this move, to let him prepare Palle for the shock of what was in the report and its clinical and legal style, but that request was rejected, as Nielsen’s lawyers were demanding the report immediately.  The court denied Reiter permission to see Palle until two days before the next court date.

So Palle was handed Reiter’s report and told he had a week to read it.  Until he read it, Palle had believed his autobiography had been his own idea, he hadn’t remembered much of his sessions with Reiter, and he had believed he’d fallen in love with his wife on his own and had allowed Nielsen to have sex with her of his own will – for which he had felt terribly guilty, and now was filled with grief and anger.  He writhed in shame as he read the clinical report and had no one to talk to about it.  Crafted for the judge and jury, of course, the report didn’t give any impression that Reiter even liked him.  Palle’s lack of sleep and mental distress led to nightmares about X.

Two days prior to trial, Reiter was able, with effort, to reestablish his benevolent control over Palle and suggested that Palle have no more nightmares, which worked the first night, but not the second.

When Palle appeared for court, he was exhausted and very ill-at-ease.  Reiter needed to demonstrate that Palle could be hypnotized (defense asserted that he could not be) and then demonstrate that Palle’s obedience to X was really obedience to Nielsen.  Palle, in a hypnotic state induced for the court audience, struggled against a dark angel who threatened to throw him in the abyss for his disobedience, which distracted Palle from Reiter’s attempts at demonstration.  As Palle fell into his imaginary hell, he was on the verge of healing himself from all hypnotic spells, during which he saw X and Reiter come together into one!  Both had indeed forced their way into his susceptible mind; both had made him do things he was not aware of; and in that moment there was no difference to Palle.  And in that moment he woke up – on his own accord, and then burst into violent sobs.

When Reiter tried to induce him again, it did not work.  Instead, he jumped up with such agitation that two guards immediately jumped forward to protect Reiter, followed by six more.  Palle could not be restrained and broke away from all eight officers, but paused in the hallway and allowed Reiter to calm him.  Reiter sedated Palle on the stand, where he demonstrated that even with the narcotic, he was no longer hypnotizable.  Palle explained to the court the edge of the abyss of damnation he’d been on, his struggle with X, his falling, and the merger of the X and Reiter figures.

Reiter, at first, could not believe it and asked Palle to agree it was not logical.  Palle agreed.  “It’s not logic but my soul that’s speaking, my soul which is in shreds.  It is my unconscious part…and that has nothing to do with logic.”  Dr. Reiter could never hypnotize Palle again.

This was only the trial preliminaries.  Palle’s new lawyer stayed on the case for the next two years, during which time Nielsens’s defense team set out to prove that Palle was insane and/or a liar, and they worked to deprive Palle of legal and psychiatric aid.

Even though Nielsen’s attorney’s employed a medical expert witness who asserted the dogma of “moral integrity,” stating that no one will do anything against their will under hypnosis, the judge and jury found Nielsen guilty of robbery, attempted robbery, and manslaughter – having determined that serious criminal acts could be caused by a criminal hypnotist’s manipulations of a somnambulist subject.

Unfortunately, the jury also found Palle guilty and sentenced him to life in an institution for the criminally insane.

Palle began writing another autobiography, often expressing grief for the sorrow he caused his parents and wife and child:  “what a blight it must have cast over their life…to see how I slowly drifted away from them in a strange way that they could neither understand nor do anything about.”

Reiter negotiated to have Palle released from the institution for the insane to a regular hospital, but two days before he had the confirmation, Nielsen’s attorneys  submitted new information to open the case.

Rather than face another trial, Palle, not knowing he was soon to be a “free man,” secretly sent a letter to Nielsen’s attorneys, admitting to all crimes and denying that Nielsen had anything to do with them.  Then he sent a letter to his own attorney asking that the word hypnosis be removed entirely from the case.

Palle’s lawyer asked the court to once again provide a psychiatric hypnosis specialist, which so infuriated Palle that his attorney quit.  The new lawyer meekly accepted Palle’s new request.

The appeals court now had to determine which of Palle’s three confessions was the true one.  Nielsen, too, began writing letters to the court, referring to the “poor psychotic fellow” and writing letters again to Palle, which the court allowed!

Palle appeared on the stand “aggressive, cynical, impudent, reticent, dishonest.”  Reiter, an observer now, wrote, “His artificially created secondary personality was now plainly dominant.”

Dr. Sturup, the head doctor at the Institution for Psychopaths, where Palle was confined testified that at the hospital Palle was well-behaved, always quiet and appropriate, and curiously different from his courtroom behavior.  He also said that Palle rarely spoke of his case, but when he did, it contradicted his statements in court.  For instance, in the hospital he told the doctor, “Of course, hypnosis played a part” in what was going on, and “Anyone ought to be able to see all that is in Reiter’s report can’t be wrong.”  He and many other observers noticed the affect Nielsen’s presence had on Palle and his continuous making of X gestures.

After calling Reiter to testify (but still not allowed to speak with Palle), the court agreed to stop communication between Nielsen and Palle, but another prisoner had just previously been brought in to Palle’s unit who began giving Palle instructions from X, resulting in Palle turning over his parents’ full inheritance to this new resident, who escaped, was captured, and confessed all.

The Court of Appeals issued a preliminary report in May 1957, evaluating Palle’s mental state as “an artificially established, induced psychosis, created and developed through the influence of another person…making use of all the ways and means at his disposal…including hypnosis.”  It concluded that “induced impulses (post-hypnotic suggestions) had been used by Nielsen to exploit his control over Palle with criminal intent.”

Unfortunately, a month later, the same court concluded that Palle’s second confession best matched the evidence, finding him guilty, and refused further appeals.  Mercifully, he only spent a few more years in prison.

Nielsen’s attorneys, however, appealed to the European Court of Human Rights, which decided in Nielsen’s favor.

Reiter’s book about the case also reviewed expert research and opinion from the 8th and 19th century European hypnotists.

This case is usually misrepresented by American writers, especially by Aaron Moss, ironically an expert on disguised hypnotic induction!  Several American research hypnotists have quoted Moss as being the final word on Palle’s case.

Reiter has opined that these strident denials of the possibility of unethical hypnosis in the face of so much evidence amount to simple dogma:  “… the growth of this dogma was due to very human motives, not the least on the part of a number of professional hypnotizers…who understandably enough wished to reassure a public likely to be alarmed by the dangerous potentialities of hypnotism.”  (Reiter, 1958, pp 38-39.)


This article is a summary of “Case History:  Palle Hardwick,” a chapter from Secret, Don’t Tell: The Encyclopedia of Hypnotism, by Carla Emery, which covers:  five cases which made world history, a partial history of CIA mind control research, trance phenomena, induction methods, and legal and therapy issues in criminal hypnosis.  Carla Emery is most known for her classic Encylcopedia of Country Living, a best-seller since the 1960s.

When I spoke with Carla before she died, she told me that she’d been motivated to do this research when a friend began to struggle to understand and heal her government mind control programming.   I hope to summarize more from the book.

If you want to buy it, please do not buy from Amazon, but from – a small bookstore site operated by her widowed husband, who works with old-fashioned checks in the postal mail.  (Plus, they cost a lot less!)  Alternatively, go to if you need to purchase online.

First Peek: My Next Memoir on Healing from Mind Control

220px-EarthfirstmonkeywrenchIn 1990, I sat in the center of communications for the radical activist group Tucson Earth First! and networked with many other non-profit organizations in town, including People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals, domestic violence organizations, homeless advocates, the parent-teacher association, and had been written up in the daily paper along with a couple other women as a “Supermom.”  I think I told the reporter, “I don’t recommend it.”

But I had so many ideas, so many solutions to things, could see the coordinated steps it would take to bring a complicated project, like a publication or a conference, to successful completion, usually had most of the skills, and others encouraged me, so I took them all on, and most of them went well, with a few exceptional bombers, a few embarrassing lapses of judgement, but mostly projects that brought very positive responses, and sometimes awards, and then that news article.  I was even asked to run for political office and hounded about it for month before my rejection was accepted.

Before I’d gotten so radical, I’d been accepted into the largest PR firm in Arizona, Gladys Sarlat PR, where I’d been let go after I’d told them I thought a new client was a fraud.  Soon after, that man would be on the front page of the business section of the daily paper nearly every day for the next 18 months – on trial for fraud.

I co-wrote a couple of editorials for the dailies, one on the Green Party and another on the FBI repression of Earth First! colleagues Judi Bari and Darryl Cherney which resulted in an assassination attempt on Judi, whose trial against the FBI with Darryl, Darryl was traveling the country for, coming through Tucson, singing songs, telling the horrifying story, showing slides of the bombed car, and soliciting help.  Of course.  I organized his show, did the media work, wrote an editorial for the papers, and helped him find a place to crash that didn’t have kids.  I added it to my notebook of tasks and got it done.

Everything in my life was in my notebook.  I worked with pages I custom-designed to help me do everything.  I had daily sheets, 4-week planning charts in a 2-page spread, and monthly calendars, along with project flowcharts.  I had files January through December and “Next Year,” and files numbered 1 through 31, which helped me organize everything.  I carried my notebook everywhere.

One Monday a friend asked how was my weekend.  I flipped the page back to Saturday and answered that I’d had a houseful of boys because it had been my son’s birthday.  Until I’d read it, though, I’d had no memory of the day.  My business persona and mom persona didn’t have a lot of memory connection.

I was burning out from doing too much, and realizing it.  My husband always encouraged me to take on more, and he’d even volunteer for tasks that he didn’t have the skills to do – like bookkeeping – and then let me do it because he didn’t want to admit he couldn’t do it.  So I’d do it.  And when he insisted he’d make up the financial difference in the family because some cause was important to him that he wanted me to keep doing, he’d still keep account of the major times he paid more than his share for something, and occasionally would tell me I owed him that much.  So we had arguments.  A visiting friend one time said, “Do you realize that I every year I come visit you, you’re telling me the same dreadful things?  When are you going to change the situation?”

I was afraid to be alone with two teenagers, so I stayed in the situation and advocated for better treatment.  We did learn to have a certain amount of fun together, and we always presented a contented face to the world.

car bombWhen Judi and Darryl were bombed, it was as if a psychic bomb went off in my mind.  I was aware of things like FBI harassment of activists, but I’d pretended that an office person, PR person, occasional spokesperson wouldn’t be a target – they’d want the tree-spiker, not me.  But Judi was bombed.  She was a visionary, PR person, phenomenal spokesperson, but did nothing illegal; in fact, she’s single-handedly gotten the vast majority of California Earth First!ers to renounce tree-spiking.  So why was she attacked?  Noalmost killed.

smithsonianFor the last four years, our dining room had been the hub of action for the Coalition to protect Mount Graham, combining efforts of a number of organizations, Earth First!, San Carlos Apache Tribal Council, individual tribal members, and some international environmental ecology organization, and we’d been part of demonstrations shaming the Smithsonian Institution into backing out of the astrophysical project (though they’d rejoin years later), and we mercilessly hammered on those who forged ahead:  the University of Arizona, the Max Planck Institute in Germany, Arcetri in Italy, and the Vatican.  Yes, the Vatican.  More on that later.

I knew we were like chihuahuas nipping at the heels of a monstrous mastiff, but we did it.  We emboldened each other with tales of valor, creative monkey-wrenching, street theater, affinity groups, legal strategy workshops, and all the joy of camaraderie in the face of an enemy worth confronting.  I’d gone to jail twice.  Both times I’d gone into altered states of consciousness.  The second time, I believe I was Tasered, as I have no memory of the rest of the day or much of the next day after two plainclothes men showed up in jail and walked near me, after which I only remember rising from the ground in rage, swinging my arms, my hair in my face.  Then only sketchy disturbing memories of being harassed for hours with disturbed sleep, then let go at 4 in the morning with no phone number, though people had left numerous messages for me.  I remember someone finding me in the waiting room, curled, freezing on the hard floor, and following, and am told we went out to breakfast, but I can’t remember it.  That was Durango, Colorado, 1992.  I hadn’t meant to get arrested; I just hadn’t left the scene of a group’s civil disobedience fast enough.

Back home, to lessen my stress, I backed out of a few volunteer commitments, including most of my work to protect Mount Graham, quit my business, and got a job.  I wanted a few well-defined tasks to do each day, not the ever-expanding situation I had with a PR consulting business to environmental, arts, and social justice non-profits – that attracted unending pro bono work, and when they paid I could never charge what people said I was worth, because I didn’t want to take the money out of their accounts.

The job I got was the Customer Relations person for the 3rd largest birdwatching tour company in the world, WINGS.  After a few months on the job, the owner told me he’d been looking for years for someone who could take over the business, and he thought I could do it.  It grossed millions each year, and he’d let me buy in over time, with an immediate doubling of my pay and opportunities for the rest of my life to travel to exotic natural place all over the world, from Alaska to Antarctica and a hundred or more other places.  I would soon have to quit my job.

April 1993, my son was diagnosed with cancer.  My husband and I had the final fight of our relationship, and I ended it.  The kids and I were going to move out because my husband refused to.  My health insurance company went bankrupt.  I went down into the basement to cry, and began instead to make an involuntary sound, between a scream and a growl and roar, over and over again, able to stop for just a few seconds before the urge was upon me again, and I could not turn it off.  For awhile I thought I’d just let it wear itself out, and continued until I realized that I felt a blood vessel in my throat that felt like it could burst.  I felt the real possibility that if I didn’t drown in my own blood, I wasn’t sure how anyone would staunch the blood flow from a vocal cord, and realized I could either drown or bleed to death, and I really tried to stop.

I stopped for ten seconds, then had to emit a small growl-roar, and then another, and another.  I headed up the stairs thinking, Oh my God, I’m going to call Helpline I’m supposed to be someone who would consult to them, not need their services.  I’m a Supermom.  I’m the business consultant.  I’m not someone who needs help.  Shakily, I turned to the inside cover of the phonebook and tried a few times with trembling hands –  between not-very-well-repressed growls – and finally got the number dialed correctly.  Someone talked me down.

The next Monday morning, I walked into a counselor’s office and before I even sat down, I spilled out my litany:  My son has cancer, my health insurance company just went bankrupt, my husband and I are divorcing and we have to move and I don’t know where or how, my daughter hates me for making them move…and I could have added that I was in shock to realize that I can’t trust that my children will live, or that they will love me – two monumentally new ideas, two huge shifts in my world…and then another phrase came out of my mouth that had never crossed my conscious mind:  and I think I was sexually abused as a child.

It was so bizarre to hear words come of my mouth that never crossed the threshold of my consciousness.  For a moment, all reality was suspended, and I tipped my head to the right as if I could peek around a dimensional corner and maybe see my words spelled out there in the air.  Anything seemed possible in that moment.

And in that moment I began a struggle that had me falling apart all year long, crying everywhere I went, crying at home, walls breathing, flashbacks of sex from young childhood to teen years, wolf energy entering me, Tarot cards that came up again and again confirming this, and a couple of attempts to commit myself to a mental hospital because I wanted a place to cry and throw myself around and not attract police.  For awhile I thought I could go there for the rest of my life so that I didn’t have to make a decision about what was real.

The decision was this:  to believe that I was sexually abused and have my whole self change, or believe that was a weird and meaningless string of experiences and all is fine.  I wanted to believe the latter, but whenever I told myself that, I felt foggy, hazy, fuzzy, and like I was falling back asleep.  Whenever I entertained the former, my brain felt like it was coming out of a fog, like I saw more light – before the psychic pain crept in.

Realizing the difference that clearly, you’d think, would make me to accept the theory that made me feel clearest, but I didn’t want to go there.  I didn’t want my whole world to change.  I didn’t want to think about who did it.  I didn’t want to be one of those women scorned in the papers for jumping on the current bandwagon of diagnoses, particularly one which is so disgusting and embarrassing, that certainly means I must have some secret perversion to have picked that bandwagon.  No, I was not going there.

But I’d turn back to the other choice, and feel the haze fall over.  I felt I was falling back into an oblivion I hadn’t know I’d been in.

And a whole lot of things began to make sense, things I could never think about before, though they did cross my mind like bats in the night, barely seen, only these things had no name, no context, they didn’t make sense.  Into the Anomaly file they went – things that made no sense.

One was the sexual nightmares I had as a child.  One was the way I went mute and catatonic the first time a boy attempted intercourse.  Another was the altered state I went into the first time I was coerced into leaving my baby in the church nursery and literally forgot I had a child, even when another mother asked me where he was and even answered my question “Baby??” with his name – when I snapped out of it, remembered, and went running for him in sheer terror that I’d left him there.

And the sex play my best friend said I participated in in 5th grade, for which I had no memory.  So many things began popping back in my mind.  I tried to say I was inventing meaningful connections where there were none, but they kept coming and seemed reasonably connected.  More and more, never quitting, scraps of memories, images, ideas, sickening.

I did what I think of as silent crying, diverting the tears down inside my sinuses, giving me a constant drip that I knew was all tears.  After my nose got all chapped from wiping it for a week, I resorted to scooping the mucous-y tears out with a thumbnail, and wiping it on a hankie always with me, then after a week ditching the handkerchief and slurping the salty pain off my thumbnail, hoping people wouldn’t notice, but unable to care if they did, wearily accepting that I was more a mess than I’d ever thought possible.

I could no longer work, so I accepted entry into the Master’s Program in Creative Writing after winning an award for a story written and submitted before my life fell apart.  My kids and I began living on student loans and, for the first time in my life, credit cards, which were skyrocketing with medical bills.

The only bright side:  I’d begun praying, and though my son had been identified as being at very high risk, he was suddenly pronounced in remission.

The last night of the school year, I was facing a free summer – the first three months in my adult life, I realized, that I’d ever had.  I’d never had nothing to do for that long a period of time.

The evening after my last class, I was feeling very happy, feeling confident that I’d survive this somehow, accept the reality of my past and begin to do the healing others told me I’d be able to do, making me a better person than I could otherwise have ever been if I’d not remembered and integrated it.  I imagined a summer of reading, writing, sleeping late, staying in bed, going to support groups, doing the healing exercises in the books, with lots of time to abreact and recover and whatever else would follow.  I’d treat myself well. 

As it turned out, I’d build a tiny hermitage in the desert that summer and do very little healing work of the sort I’d imagined.

The emptiness I saw ahead was delicious, and I sat down that evening with my current book in a comfortable reading chair, thinking that the world was seeming beautiful again for the first time in over a year.  The Holographic Universe by Michael Talbot is about reality, perception, multiple dimensions, and much more.  I found my place in the book and began to read, but soon was experiencing something very odd.

I finished a sentence, had a reaction of great interest to it, but couldn’t remember anything it was about as soon as I reached the end of it.  I re-read the sentence repeatedly with the same physical reaction of great interest and then amnesia for it.

I tried it again, and was face to face with something weird happening in my brain.  I balanced between fascination and fear.  Then an idea popped up:  Read the sentence aloud.  And I did.

The sentence was about people with multiple personality disorder looking often decades younger than their biological age – which is still true for me today, sometimes (depending on which alter is out), and was even more true then.  At forty-one, I was often mistaken for my teenage children’s sister.

Again, the world shifted, but this time it wasn’t as traumatic.  In fact, after the acceptance of the child abuse, it felt real comfortable, as though a confirming piece of a puzzle had dropped into place and made things clear.

Still the rational part of me was horrified.  I was already carrying this secret stigma of being a child sexual abuse survivor, which was bad enough.  But mental illness!?  No way.  I did not want this.

A response came from inside:  Understanding this is the beginning of everything getting better.  I can heal.  And I decided I’d go first thing in the morning to the medical library at the university and read all I could about multiple personality.

The next day I was greatly affirmed.  Despite multiple personality’s reputation, it’s not always as crippling as some stories they’ve made into movies.  And once diagnosed, it’s relatively easy to heal.  Created by trauma, it’s actually the most “sane” response, as opposed to going schizophrenic, the other alternative when the mind cannot assimilate what’s dealt to the body.  And many “multiples” are actually very high-functioning, even geniuses – not coincidental, but because of their multiple-ness.  They have more “minds” to learn things, and many learn to partially integrate their various alters to network and use all those minds to superior levels.

I’d tested at genius levels a few times in my life, so this news helped me not feel like a freak two or three times over, but like I’d just had bad luck, and others have gone before me.  We have highly complicated minds, sorta supercharge potential, not working quite right, but healable.

Now I just had to figure out how to do it.  By going to the desert, though, while also enrolled in school, I’d make life too complicated to follow through with counseling.  Besides, whenever I did visit a counselor over the years, they kept telling me I was “doing great” and I could just continue on my own.

rock creek houseI moved to the desert, fell in love with my solitude, and thought I’d stay there all my life – until my old high school crush and I had a conversation at our 25th high school reunion.

Soon I had abandoned my hermitage, moved to Colorado Springs, and was engaged to be married to my rescuer I believed was my soul mate.  (If we can have a few, he is one.)  I snapped back into functioning mode and tried not to think about having anything that needed to heal.

Needing a new career, I got my real estate license and was soon top-selling agent in my office, and was offered management of my franchise’s cornerstone office, overseeing 60 agents, for which I would likely earn “six figures.”

In the previous four and a half years, my fiancé and I had realized we couldn’t blend our lives, and I was yearning to return to my hermitage, to sit in front of the windows and watch hawks.  The real estate biz had helped me pay down a good bit of my credit cards, and business was burning me out again, needing to be at every client’s beck and call 24-7 for their most important financial action of the decade.  The excitement was over, I’d proven myself, so I declined and moved back home to the desert.

In my hermitage, I’d never had curtains because I lived far off the road and my nearest neighbor, a woman friend, was a quarter-mile away with barbed wire fence between us.  One night, though, I knew someone malevolent was outside my large solar windows in the dark, looking in on my one-room house, me sitting in the middle of it, next to the fireplace, facing out.  I set down my book, raised my hands in prayer position and prayed fervently that I’d be protected and maybe the man would be moved by my gesture to remember God and pull himself together and do right.

After awhile, I put down my hands and began to read again, and the feeling of horror came over me again.  I retook my prayer pose, prayed a while, then turned out the light, and went to bed.

The next morning I found outside a styrofoam coffee cup in pristine condition sitting on my porch, a cigarette butt thrown a short distance away, and a place on the dirt where he’d relieved himself.  I called the sheriff and was told it was all insignificant and, no, he wouldn’t even make a note about my call.  In the next four years, I experienced a lot of fear, interspersed by events indicating I was being helped through it all with supernatural assistance.

In April 2002, I sat on my roof, watching a rare phenomenon in the sky:  a crescent moon and four planets lined up after sunset.  I’d been having lots of experiences I understood were called “shamanic,” which excited me.  I’d had a year of snakes making dramatic entries into my life, ravens, owls, hawks, phoebes, lizards, a wild cat, and I’d bought a book of animal spirit meanings.

As I sat on the western edge of the roof of my bathhouse and gazed westward, suddenly a cluster of bats rolled in front of my face like a four-foot high, one-foot wide tire-shape in the air, and I knew it was a sign, but I didn’t know of what.

Next thing I knew, I was in a state of absolute ecstasy, seeing the planets and moon from a different perspective, colorful, and could perceive the rotation of the Earth, the Moon’s orbit around us, and the Earth’s and all the planets’ orbits around the Sun as a sensation in my body.  I was totally enraptured, felt myself suspended in space, rising, ecstatic.

Next thing I knew, I was sitting in the middle of the roof, the sky was perfectly dark except for brilliant stars, the moon and planets were long gone, no light at all in the west.  And I was babbling words of gratitude, unable to stop.  I did though when two owls began to fly around me, and flew around me again and again until I began to wish I’d counted so I could one day tell the story with precise truth, and soon after my mind went into that rational track, they flew away.

Back in the house, I looked up bats and owls.  They are each complex, but the phrases I remembered were:  Shamanic initiation and astral travel.  Years later, I realized or remembered that a great deal of time had passed for which I have no memory.

Days or weeks later, walking from my reading chair to get a drink of water, I suddenly had the experience of a spirit crashing into me – specifically, the spirit of Judi Bari!  She had died five years earlier of breast cancer while trying to sue the FBI for various civil rights abuses related to the bombing.  In an instant, with no words passed between us, I realized a whole lot:  She knew from the other realm that I felt myself a very tepid activist.  She, on the other hand, to my mind, had been a Superwoman activist, a Supermom activist even, someone to go down in history, except that the mainstream media seemed to be cooperating with the FBI to keep the history-worthy event out of awareness and memory.  Still, she was a hero to a lot of us for her amazing work to try to save the last of the Redwood forests.  I was nobody in comparison.

She scolded me for my attitude and told me (all wordlessly, instantaneously) that her style (bold and sometimes insulting and sarcastic to the Powers that Be) was not the only way to do things, and in fact it had even gotten her killed, and my gentler style could go further, and I should lay off thinking there was nothing more I could do.  And then she was gone.

Standing there in front of the counter with an empty glass in my hand, having been thinking of other things before I got up for water, I was completely dumbfounded.  Why would I get this message?  Why now?  I was so far from activism, and had no intentions of getting back into it.

A few weeks after the night on the roof, and not long after Judi’s message, I received a phone call from Darryl – ten years since I’d talked to him last – asking me if I’d come to Oakland to manage media relations for the trial.  I said I would, and two days later I took the Amtrak to Oakland, California, to participate in a six-week trial resulting in various agents of the FBI being found guilty of all the charges, for which they’d pay a historic sum of $4.4 million.

During the trial, I felt made subject to more experimentation.  I felt as though I’d been hit by immobilizing beams on at least two occasions.  Then, I’d also felt twice taken into another dimension, and upon return it took a minute or more to remember who I was in this Earth life, as if my consciousness was of a higher self who was just dropping in with the Earth-life me to make sure I re-entered and remembered properly before removing herself.

She worried about nothing, found my slow memory mildly humorous, but was fond in her judgement, and left me with a sense that all was well.  It sure didn’t seem like all was well, with our FBI overseeing the bombing of activists trying to save the last 3 percent of the native forest of California, but the soul part who seemed to be there with me for a minute felt confident and calm, as though everything was as it should be.  It comforted me for a while.  Then I worried it might have been a technological mind trick, maybe messing with my mind, but leaving a false memory that all was okay.

I told no one because we all had enough on our hands, working with lawyers every day to craft messages out to the world’s media; no one needed my drama, so I kept my worries to myself, and focused on the job.

My first day home from the trial, catching up on email, I was directed to some websites by one of my most important confidants.  She said, “I think these will explain a lot that we have in common.”  I began to read, for the first time in my life, about something that causes multiple personality:  mind control.

It was horrifying.  Mesmerizing.  Disgusting.  Repellent.  And familiar in a way that made me feel that old ghosts were stirring, old memories, little children’s voices whispering, It’s true.  And:  We’re scared.  And:  Maybe you’ll recognize us now?

Making this connection between mind control and multiple-ness would explain even more of my life and be both as promising and terrifying as it was to accept that I’d been sexually abused.  Promising, because it explained things that had never made sense before.  Terrifying, because it implied that I might be being watched and maybe controlled even now.  And maybe all my activism had been playing into the hands of my controllers, and maybe I’d done things to betray activists without knowing.  I felt like a living time bomb.  I thought I should kill myself.

At the same time, I felt I had a chance again to know myself better than ever, and could free myself from it, maybe.  That bit of hope, though, was greatly overshadowed by fear so great, that I did not get better any time soon, but went into another deep dark hole for a good length of time, during which I became paranoid that my home was not only bugged, but someone was video recording my every move.  I was afraid to speak of critical topics aloud except whispered in a noisy outdoor space.

imagesMy efforts to use shamanism to protect myself went awry, and I felt ganged up on from the other side, as if aliens had joined the CIA (the department that has always overseen mind control – according to their own documents and director testimony to the Senate) in harassing me, or the CIA was giving me “screen memories” of aliens.

For five years, I had bizarre experiences, for example, being immobilized in my vehicle stopped on the highway and losing hours of time, and more often, weirdness at home, seeing at least a dozen UFO’s over the years, feeling myself pulled up through the canvas of my bedroom teepee into another dimension, perceptions of people who’d just unexpectedly passed over (before many knew they’d died), and more – a mix of things shamanic and things that could have been technological harassment, including being hit by beams of laser energy, once right between the eyes.

And I never did I do much healing work on my multiple-ness.

My multiple-ness is easy to ignore, and some people might think I’m over-exaggerating or slapping on a diagnosis that’s unnecessary.  But Multiple Personality Disorder (MPD) – now called Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID) – manifests in a variety of ways, some of which occur after natural trauma or the trauma of random abuse, and others which are the result of intentional trauma inflicted to make the person dissociate so that the perpetrator can embed behaviors triggered by secret commands, called “programming,” into the victim who will then be the subject, controlled, without the subject’s awareness, by the person who knows the secret passwords.

The “work on my healing” I’d hope to do had suddenly become something much more complicated, and something for which I knew I was going to be attacked by those who didn’t want me to heal.  Would I even have a chance?

I read books on the subject, from medical library material to popular and therapeutic literature.  Therapists claimed healing could be done, but it took money.  And it seemed every time I tried to get a job, someone had been there before me, saying something about me – perhaps a federal agent would simply walk in and ask to be notified if I should come in – and then the secretary would stare at me, stricken, as if I were a ghost and she didn’t know what to do.  After a few times, I quit looking and decided eventually to leave my home when my computer was suspiciously destroyed, my vehicle quit running, and I began to borrow money again with no idea how I was going to repay it.  I sold my land, sad to go, and moved to Silver City, New Mexico.  I wondered if they forced me to town to make my programming easier and my potential for use much greater.

As I said, my condition is easy to hide.  My alters seem to coordinate fairly well enough, but remembering things like events and people’s names is slow.  Expressing opinions is an interesting exercise.  I see things, usually, from at least a few different perspectives, see the validity in all of them, compare them, revisit the person’s question to determine which of these viewpoints I want to share to best respond to their question, and usually by then, someone else has moved the conversation along, my opportunity passed, and I appear slow.  I, though, feel like I’ve done ten times the work on the idea as anyone else and really only took a few seconds longer, but opening my mouth was too slow for social custom – unless I am in an ultra-high-functioning mode, and then I might be too speedy for some people.

Let me be alone in my office, though, working on a project, and I do better than fine.  I win awards.  Just don’t bother me.

So I work alone, and limit my social life.  And people treat me like I’m normal – I think.  Hard to know from this vantage.  I’m usually wrapped up in my own mind:  observing, comparing perceptions, keeping steady, and lately I’ve been doing better than ever in my social skills.  I even hosted my first party ever in my adult life in my current home shortly after I moved here, and have hosted parties regularly since then.  And I’ve made a lot of friendly acquaintances.  And held jobs successfully, for as long as I’ve wanted them, which often isn’t long.  I get tired of the strain of managing my personalities and moods, and all the extra compensation time I need to take to keep up, and usually need to take breaks every few months, which made teaching in the local college a good gig for a while.

The government-military style of mind control (there are others, Satanic, for instance) was probably responsible for my being high-functioning.  I’m not sure how many programs they have, but I know they create super-soldiers, super-spies, and sexual entertainers for rewards and blackmail.  I know I was trained in the latter.  I suspect I might have also been trained as a spy, though I have no hard evidence, only a lifetime aversion to the color blue and an article on mind control (MK) programming linking blue to spies – and the fact that I got myself right in the heart of all the activists in Tucson, which would have been useful to the government which has been spying on and repressing groups like these for decades.

What irony.  I suspected others of being spies (and maybe they were), but I never considered myself.  My world reeled again.

It’s twenty years now since I first realized I was multiple and was inspired to be on a healing path, grounded with information from the medical library, supported by other women dealing with the same sort of shock and challenge, but in all these years, I haven’t done much.  I’ve had lots of memories and alters (alternate personalities) present themselves, but I haven’t worked with that information, regardless of my strongest intentions.  I’ve begun to realize there’s probably truth in the literature about programming installed for the express purpose of sabotaging all efforts to heal.

The first thing I might have worked with was the Integrating Woman (I spontaneously felt that was who she was).  In the moment I first connected the idea of a multiple personality with myself, I saw/felt, as if seeing in another dimensional space that shares reality with us here, a woman slip herself over me like a glove, holding all my parts together.  She didn’t feel anything like an angel, and she didn’t feel like me.  Rather, she felt like a calm being, who could help me integrate.  I was bothered though that she seemed to avert her face from me, and I never saw it.  My vantage point seemed to be from behind her and to the left, although I seemed to be included in her.  I felt safe, though I was bothered that she didn’t feel nicer.  She seemed functional, mild, and perhaps kind, but not in any heart-felt way, just as if she was a good person doing a job, and she knew better than to expend a lot of energy, or maybe she was just beyond emotions, and way beyond my trembling volcano full.  So she kept her distance, blue-green light she seemed to be made of, and left me to deal with my emotions alone, or actually with other help, Wolf to begin with.

Wolf came into me one night and rose up in all her power, ready to rip up the apartment.  Quickly I negotiated for her to restrain herself and I’d get emotional help for us the very next day if she could hang tight.  The next day, I kept my promise – I didn’t want her tearing up the apartment as I’d felt she was fully ready to use my body to do – and first called two mental hospitals who determined over the phone that I was too sane to admit myself.  Then I called an astrologer-psychic I respected and asked for an appointment private enough that if I began raging, no one would hear it and call police.  We met in a friend’s vacant office building, and I didn’t make any noise but weeping.

I never experienced Wolf again, but she was good for me, got me back into therapy, let me know there was big stuff that needed to get out.  Thank you, Wolf.  But somehow I never did any “work” with the Integrating Woman.

I accept that I have programming against healing work, but why have none of my therapists led me to work with any of my many alters or the Integrating Woman?  Some, I’ve realized, later were part of the system of managing my programming.  But all of them?  Why no proper help?

Since 2002, I’ve probably read close to a dozen books on mind control, not a lot (it’s exhausting) from personal accounts to therapy manuals to history.  In general what I understand is that I was enrolled into a program, perhaps MKULTRA, but likely one of the others, MKDELTA, MKNAOMI, or some other, now all lumped together under MKULTRA as a generic term for government-sponsored mind control.

There are many different programs for different purposes, and children come into the programs in different manners.  Some, more dispensable, come from kidnappers and similar sources.  Some children come from the upper-class or upper-middle-class hoping to climb in status by participating in this new program that will make their daughter very smart and disciplined, plus it would support the country.

Eisenhower crest

Eisenhower crest

There is also reported to be families that have been subjected to mind control for centuries, maybe millennia.  I sense all the secret societies are involved.  Eisenhower is a lineage associated with a very old secret society, that of iron hewers – sworn to keep the secrets of metallurgy for the king alone.

Other children get recruited when their parents are discovered to be sexually abusing them.  The CIA knows that the traumatized child is already dissociative, or multiple, so they threaten the family with someone gone to prison and the shame of that – and give the option to put the child into a mind control program instead.  Of course, the parents cave.

They also pay cash to the parents for their kids’ recruitment – in the form of employment checks for certain services rendered, such as denying that the child had been asleep for two years and other reinforcement of the program – all in the name of science and the betterment of mankind.  If the parents ever think of breaking their contract, the fact that they took money would silence most of them.  If that didn’t, then threats to kill the child would.

Many of us recall our families moving into much larger homes about the time we began or ended our two years of amnesia.

Other adult subjects report things that I have no visceral reaction to, but some reports make me feel as though I can remember – and I jump in my chair at the first reading and cringe or cry.

Once my daughter and boyfriend came to visit me on my birthday and one brought along a movie, in their minds, “a classic” of its genre – but a genre I had chosen to never watch any more and had told both of them that for years.  They both thought I should watch it anyway, because it was “a classic.”  They seemed so certain that we should all watch this movie that I relented.  In an early scene, a Mafia underling is being upbraided and threatened by his superior in a brightly lit room, defending himself with poor attempts at lies and bluster.  He wears a knit shirt that I associated with the late 1950s/early 60s.  The man’s bluster and his shirt felt familiar, as though I knew that sort of man too well, and he scared the shit out of me.

In a panic, I asked them to turn it off, and when they ignored me, felt myself rise like a zombie and walk for the door, trying to keep one foot going in front of another and my mind in my body and not screaming.  Outside, I sat down and burst into sobbing, feeling real terror about that ignorant, fearful, blustering man, as if he could do things to me, and my body shook and jumped and jolted for hours afterward, and I continued crying and criticizing them for not listening to me and believing that I do not want to watch movies portraying Mafiosa – it terrifies me, and they should have respected it.

Instead, I’ve had to respect that others simply do not want to believe this is true.  They want to believe I’m being dramatic, and they are being tolerant and doing the right thing, encouraging me off your sick fantasy.

The government doesn’t work alone on this.  They subcontract out jobs to the Mafia, various churches, law enforcement, medical groups, and any others that are needed.  They get their connections through secret societies, which demand loyalty of their members and may entrap or blackmail their recruits into compliance under threat of having some misdeed exposed.  A favorite, powerful entrapment is sexual, for which they need to train lots of children in sexual behaviors.  The children, though, are usually given more than one type of programming.

credit:  MindControlCollege.  I cannot vouch for this, but it give a good idea of the orderly way this is done, with backups, failsafes, and back doors.The mind control was done “scientifically,” noting what sorts of drugs or hypnosis, or torture evoked what response.  Some were experimental, others had passed that phase and become protocol.

Torture was not done strictly because the perpetrators were insane psychopaths, though they probably are; it was done because it is effective.  Torture a young child, and their mind leaves their body at some point, a point they were becoming adept at finding quickly by using extreme measures. Therefore, we were drugged, hypnotized, caged, tortured with cold, hunger, dislocated joints, lose-lose psychological games, electroshock, physical and sexual torture, and being forced to witness other disobedient children being murdered.

We went out of our minds.  And that was the point.  As soon as “we” were gone, the brain, still recording life experience, had a fresh, blank slate, and the researcher told it its name and its function, terrified it into obedience, and sent it away with its only existence being to respond properly so as not to be tortured or murdered as we know very well they will do.

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

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

For comparison, here's a normal g-spot. The photograph was supplied by a friend in sex education. You can see it is ribbed and round.

For comparison, here’s a normal g-spot. The photograph was supplied by a friend in sex education. You can see it is ribbed and round.

I’ve been punished for disobedience, I assume, fairly recently.  One day in 2004, I realized I’d been cut inside my vagina fairly deeply, my g-spot sliced neatly through, right down to the main trunk of the nerve, so that now I can’t stand to be touched there, making sex a rather hazardous enterprise ever since.

Throughout it all, meticulous records are kept on every alter created and what programming command is programmed to evoke which response.  Some programming was foundational and dealt with amnesia, pass codes, and obedience to particular individuals, while other programming built on that and involved specific tasks.  At the end of two years, we’d been made obedient and disciplined, with amnesic alters who were glad to be in the real world and not be tortured, who would follow the program of acting like everything was normal.

Many of us have bad hearts from all the electroshock, or extreme reactions to pharmaceuticals, not to mention neurotic, disabling reactions to things like a movie with a blustering man in an old-style T-shirt, and alters that come and go and leave us with missing time and the fear that we’ve been used again and we don’t know what for.

Since there’s no honor among thieves, sometimes the pass codes get shared with people who aren’t supposed to have them – someone giving someone a gift of a mind control fuck, for instance – and someone calls us on the phone and says, Open your door tonight at 10 – and the subject does and provides sex and wonders why she’s sore and tired after what she thinks was an 8-hour night’s sleep.

DSC01337Since they have such high technology, it seems there would be no reason for anyone to use a Taser on me, but I woke up one morning with severe weakness and a third-degree burn on my arm with two bright red dots in the middle.  Maybe these were interlopers who didn’t quite manage my pass codes correctly and they had to Taser me to erase my memory.  I don’t know.  And I was Tasered a second time, I assume, though I wasn’t burned as badly, because the two dots were there again.

Last night, I drafted a post for Paradigm Salon in which I wrote that since removing all my shamanic paraphernalia and putting my focus on Yeshua alone that I hadn’t had any more hypodermic bruises on my thighs.  But the next day, I found another one.  What does it mean?  Someone in my house again?  [The day after that, I had two more!]

Back to my alters I haven’t worked with – and why has no psychologist or other counselor supported me in working with them?  

A few days after I experienced the Integrating Woman, I lay down in the afternoon and suddenly experienced myself as three, fanned out like a small hand of cards.  I was intrigued and thought I’d talk to them and see if they had clues for helping me understand things, and they read my mind and said, “No.  It’s too complicated to explain how we came about, would take to long, and you wouldn’t understand it anyway, but we aren’t needed any more, so we’re outa here,” and they “folded” – that fast.  I felt them melt into me and disappear.

Later that year, I sensed that some children wanted to come out and be known, but they were afraid.  They wanted to know that I was nice.  So I bought two stuffed animals and put them inside a shawl, wrapped it around me with them in the sling and carried them with me everywhere I went all day every day for two weeks, taking them off only to sleep, and then I cared for them as though they were real babies in bed with me, talking to them, loving them, really feeling like they were my children and I cared so very much to encourage them that I was strong and competent, could keep them safe, could listen, wouldn’t be afraid of their stories, and would love them.

After two weeks, I set the stuffed animals on the window seat and talked to them throughout my day, demonstrating that I thought they were capable and I was going to respect them and trust them to be strong too, to sit there and not need to be carried constantly.  One day, sitting on my bed, a little girl appeared in another dimension a few feet away and a few feet up, sitting in a tree with a leg hanging down.  I was so surprised to see her there, and so very happy that she’d presented herself to me, that I reached up my hand to touch her leg.  This scared her and she kicked her leg in panic, but laughed a little too, as she indicated she wasn’t yet ready to be touched.  I accepted that and told her that whenever she was ready, I’d be ready.

One night, reading a book, she slipped into me.  When our hearts connected, I felt her, remembered her, knew that little girl was me, a part of me lost a long time ago.  It was amazing to feel her again, so sudden, a surprise, but so familiar too.  She was very sweet, and said about my hands, as if surprised by their wrinkled appearance but finding them comforting:  Just like Grandma’s.  And then she expressed a second judgement about having come into an old body when she was only 6:  It’s not so bad.

Her innocence and sweetness, and my sense of the courage it required to come back into this body after what had driven her out, touched my heart and made it hurt so that my hands came up and my face dropped down and I sobbed and sobbed a mix of happiness, sorrow, grief for the child, and grief for me, all of it warmed though by love for the child’s openness and courage.

jeanseedboat cropOver these twenty years, I’ve had lots of alters merge or emerge, and each has been an experience that wrenched my heart and caused me to spend days at home, crying, writing, combing the experience for meaning, making myself strong enough again to go out of the house.

I haven’t kept track of them though.  I don’t know if I’ve learned what I should have.  Most times I think I have, but sometime I worry that I’ve been letting things slip away.  And I hear others report that whenever we heal an alter and erase some programming, they have alternate pass codes or entryways to replace whatever was lost, so our programming never gets broken.  And we remain their subjects.

healing cropSometimes it’s a challenge to remember why I think I can heal, or why I should stay if I can’t.  But I play philosophical games with myself and invent possible reasons for an unexpected reality to unfold soon that’ll make everything worth it.  And sometimes angels pick me up.  And I keep on, trying to do some good here.

Amazingly, I have more days that I feel grateful to be alive than days that I want out.   But I have to write about this.  I am pretty sure they don’t want me to.  But I have to.

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

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

I often am amazed to think about the “Apocalypse” – which means “unveiling,” “revealing” – a time for us to see!  Are we seeing yet?

It’ll be very healing for a lot of us when others choose to look.


Alison Miller on Ritual Abuse

These quotes from one of the most respected therapists in ritual abuse, Alison Miller, give a good overview of this subject, from her book ― Healing the Unimaginable: Treating Ritual Abuse and Mind Control:

13124637“What daily life is like for “a multiple”

Imagine that you have periods of “lost time.” You may find writings or drawings which you must have done, but do not remember producing. Perhaps you find child-sized clothing or toys in your home but have no children. You might also hear voices or babies crying in your head.

Imagine that you can never predict when you will be able to have certain knowledge or social skills, and your emotions and your energy level seem to change at the drop of a hat, and for no apparent reason.

You cannot understand why you feel what you feel, and, if you are in therapy, you cannot explore those feelings when asked. Your life feels disjointed and often confusing. It is a frightening experience. It feels out of control, and you probably think you are going crazy. That is what it is like to be multiple, and all of it is experienced by the ANPs.  [Alternate Personality]

A multiple may also experience very concrete problems, even life-threatening ones.”

“Since the 1980s, therapists have reported encountering clients or patients who had experienced extreme abuses featuring physical, sexual, emotional, spiritual, and cognitive aspects, along with a premeditated structure of torture-enforced lessons. The phenomena was first labeled “ritual abuse,” and, later, as our understanding developed, “mind control.”

“Those who are aware of their condition and experience themselves as “multiple” might refer to themselves as “we” rather than “I.” I shall use the term “multiple” at times, in respect for their internal experience. It is important to point out, however, that I recognize that someone who is multiple is actually a single fragmented person rather than many people. On the outside, a multiple is probably not visibly different from anyone else. But that image is only an imitation: people who are multiple cannot think like the rest of us, and we cannot think like them. (In fact, since it is difficult for the multiple to understand how singletons think, some of them might think that is is you who are strange).

Just as a singleton cannot become a multiple at will, a multiple cannot become a singleton until and unless the barriers between the parts of the self are removed. Those barriers were put up to enable the child to tolerate, and so survive, unavoidable abuse.

[Multiple: a person with dissociative identity disorder (DID) or DDNOS.
Singleton: a person without DID or DDNOS, i.e with a single, unified personality]”

“Programming is the act of installing internal, pre-established reactions to external stimuli so that a person will automatically react in a predetermined manner to things like an auditory, visual or tactile signal or perform a specific set of actions according to a date and/or time.”

“The first generation of therapists doing this work were told by their clients that the one massive cult was everywhere, knew everything, had access to state-of-the-art technology, and was willing to kill both clients and therapists to stop the information from getting out.”

“The reality is that even before stories of ritual abuse and mind control began coming out to therapists, the groups had agreed on what kind of disinformation to spread, so that clients would be afraid to tell their therapists what had happened to them, and therapists would be afraid to work with these clients.”

“Because the problem of ritual abuse and mind control has not gone away – the survivors are still there – many more therapists have learnt about it. Survivors have spoken out and written their stories, and therapists have learnt a great deal from those brave survivors who have discovered what was done to them. There is a large special interest group on Ritual Abuse and Mind Control within the International Society for the Study of Dissociation. Those therapists who have learnt in isolation or in small private online forums are once again sharing their knowledge widely, and books such as this one are beginning to be published again. The work is still very difficult and challenging, but we now know so much more than we did. We know that there is not one massive Satanic cult, but many different interrelated groups, including religious, military/political, and organized crime, using mind control on children and adult survivors. We know that there are effective treatments. We know that many of the paralyzing beliefs our clients lived by are the results of lies and tricks perpetrated by their abusers. And we know that, as therapists, we can combat this evil with wise and compassionate therapy.”

“A child who is being abused on an ongoing basis needs to be able to function despite the trauma that dominates his or her daily life. That becomes the job of at least one ANP [alternate personality], whom the child creates to be unaware of the abuse and also of the multiplicity, and to “pass as normal” in the real world. The ANP is just an alter specialized for handling the adult world—in other words, the “front person” for the system.”

“In fact, rather than being “more” than the others, the ANP is generally one that is very limited, with little power in the system, little memory of what happened, and limited energy or emotions.”

“It is unlikely that one ANP will serve as a constant throughout the person’s life. Your client is, therefore, likely to have others besides the ones you know, or several who you might think of as “the host”. Adults with dissociative disorders often have several ANPs from earlier stages of life inside. They usually have the same name but are of different ages. Sometimes, there are several current ANPs, each of whom assumes she or he is the “real” person and is amnesiac for the existence of the others. Their current knowledge and experience may overlap, while their other characteristics differ somewhat. This makes them glide easily from one to the other, and the therapist can easily miss the switch.”

“I remember one of my first ritually abused clients confessing to me that for a long time she had remembered being abducted by aliens, but had not told me because she did not want me to disbelieve her other memories because of it. We worked through the “alien abduction” memory and discovered that the “spaceship” was parked in the courtyard of the cult training center.”

“Besides stage magic props and settings, ritually abusing groups use technology, such as that described by Katz and Fotheringham. Military/political groups have the most sophisticated technologies, and much training or programming is now done with virtual reality equipment. Movies and holograms are used to deceive a child into believing in things that are unreal.

When a client says to you “I don’t know if it’s real; how can it be real?” remember that there are several options, not just two: (1) It happened just as s/he remembers; (2) it did not happen at all; (3) something happened, but due to technology and/or trickery it was not what s/he thinks it was; (4) the thought that the memory must be unreal is itself a program, as described in Chapter Twelve, “Maybe I made it up.”

“In my client who had confessed her “alien abduction” experience, an alter had been instructed that if she began to remember the ritual abuse she was to remember the alien abduction, so that nobody would believe her account of the ritual abuse. This program did not work with us, but you can imagine the larger consequences of such a ruse.”

― Alison Miller, Healing the Unimaginable: Treating Ritual Abuse and Mind Control

Twelve years flirting with “shamanic practice”


~ Twelve years flirting
~ Amazing changes since I quit

Twelve years of flirting with “shamanic practice.”  I wouldn’t recommend it.

Opening doors to the other dimensions, or recognizing that they were opened somehow, as was my case, and then not acting decisively about it is dangerous.  I’ve documented how dangerous it is all over this site, on pages and posts.

It has nearly killed me more times than I can tell, and nearly made me crazy.  And that’s how shamanic initiations are described in all the literature.  But that doesn’t mean it’s “wrong.”  Perhaps our path is to explore this danger.

deer_in_the_headlights_by_clubpenguinsandwich-d3l9bsxSometimes we just stand there like a deer in the headlights, asking, “What is this?  Is this real?  Should I go right or left?  Do I believe what I’ve been told about these things?  Are there other ways to interpret what I’ve heard about things like this?  What does my heart say?  Is it dangerous just because it’s mind blowing?  Might it be good?  Can I just watch and think and not act quickly?”

Meanwhile, the thing is storming down on you or has already taken you – where?

So after twelve years, feeling somewhat fortunate to be “chosen” or to have attained this awareness of the multiple dimensions, I’ve decided to not just “keep an open mind” to whatever comes through those portals, but to choose.  And I believe that’s the point.

Yeshiva - (I meant to write, and thought I wrote

Yeshiva – (I meant to write, and thought I wrote “Yeshua,” but I wrote this interesting derivation! Wonder where that came from….

I’ve chosen to connect and align with the only spiritual being whom I have ever felt kinship with, who hasn’t mystified me:  Yeshua.  

When I was a teen, I heard a youth minister recount some stories in which Christ came down squarely on the side of non-violence, non-sexism, non-racism, non-materialism, and anti-doctrine.

(Posts about my struggle with “Jesus” are under the category Yeshua/Jesus, to the right.)

Since making this decision (finally, or again?), and following it up by removing all the cluttering shamanic paraphernalia from the house (and allowing certain items back later, though to different, less prominent places), some wonderful changes have come about:

First, I’ve had no more horrendous experiences of waking bruised, burned, or biopsied with mysterious, debilitating exhaustion.  Done.  Gone!

Second, I’ve felt and followed the need to “clear energy” (clutter of various sorts) everywhere throughout the house, from the storage room, to my bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, sunroom, and closets.  

Not obsessively; just every few days I feel inspired, and it’s been easy and fun!  And the energy change is palpable, for both myself and my partner.  And interesting spiritual understandings have come about in the process.  Life is becoming productive again.

This is not to denounce shamanism (at least I don’t claim to know enough to say for sure).  

But I feel fairly confident about this:  just because the portals open and a friend suggests it might be one’s initiation doesn’t mean one is actually called or that it is a good call to answer.

Shamanic practice is an interesting phrase, used by those who want to explore the multiple dimensions – which I believe is a righteous desire but, after twelve years of going it alone, I’ll say its dangerous without a guide, and even with a guide it can be dangerous.  Just read Carlos Castaneda or any of this team of initiates.

I don’t believe I need any “practice,” which is probably why I resisted it so consistently.  Everything in my life tells me that I came into this world with “my lights on,” understanding the portals and extra-dimensional beings very well even in childhood – though I had to pretend not to know, to please my family.

Mind control tried further to convince me that I didn’t know, so I set aside what I knew and tried to be “open” in this realm we call shamanic.  Not good.

While I was “practicing” (or trying and failing to be diligent to the practice), I failed to learn the lessons that should have been easy because I was trying to see something others said they saw.  I’d been encouraged to make myself blind!

Finally, a few weeks ago, frustrated and seriously afraid (see this page if you wonder why), I realized Yeshua is the only spiritual being I have ever had a deep feeling for, so – regardless that he and his teachings have been perverted in church doctrine (little of which I believe) and made a mockery of on TV – he, the real Being, is my Chief, my Guide, my Counselor.

He’s the first one I speak to each morning, and the last one I speak to each evening, and I stay in touch throughout the day.  That’s the extent of my “shamanic” (multi-dimensional) practice today.

And life is no longer crazy.

Thank God!

I assume there are many, different Guides, one (or more) for each of us.  Find your spiritual connection/s.   Trust yourself.  Don’t let cultural lies get in the way.  Develop the relationship.  We need help here.  Can’t go it alone.


The Case of the Pope: Global Child Trafficking and Murder

Check this out!  And pray for this man.

[I just discovered this in my Draft folder since May.  Kevin Annett, Eagle Strong Voice, is still working to disclose the horrors.]


The International Common Law Court of Justice – Criminal Trial Division, Brussels


churchAdjudication in the The Case of the Pope: Global Child Trafficking and Murder

Public Information Bulletin No. 2: An Update from the Citizen Prosecutor’s Office

lThursday, April 10, 2014 GMT



The common law trial in absentia of the three top officials of the Vatican and the Church of England – Jorge Bergoglio, Adolfo Pachon and Justin Welby – began last Monday, April 7 with the opening arguments of the Citizen Prosecutor. The Court convened in closed session under tight security, presided by five Magistrates and a complete Court room staff, along with twenty seven sworn Jury members.

The Prosecutor has spent the past three days presenting affidavits or videotaped statements from sixteen (16) witnesses from Canada, the United States of America, England and Holland. These witnesses’ statements and evidence address the complicity of the Defendants or their agents in the sexual and financial trafficking and the ritual rape, torture and murder of children in these countries.

The Prosecution will be calling upon the first of these witnesses to be present in Court for examination and questioning commencing the week of Monday, April 14, when the Special Assistant to the Prosecutor, Reverend Kevin Annett, will also be present in Court to give testimony and assistance.

Here are some details from the Prosecution’s case evidence:

  1. The Prosecution’s evidence falls into three categories: Institutional Genocide, Child Sacrifice and Ritual Killing, and Child Trafficking. Each of these will be addressed by the witnesses and corroborating material.

  2. The sixteen witnesses in this first round of evidence have direct, firsthand experience and knowledge of the role of the Defendants and their agents in all of these crimes, including in the so-called NINTH CIRCLE child sacrificial cult. Besides participants in this cult and survivors of government experimental programs, these witnesses include former officials of the Roman Catholic and Anglican churches, retired and serving policemen, indigenous elders, a retired senior politician from England, an operative of the Canadian Security and Intelligence Service (CSIS), and a former civil servant in the Argentine military junta.

  3. The Prosecution has also received an affidavit from Rev. Kevin Annett, ITCCS Field Secretary, that connects his own victimization by church and state in Canada with his discovery of the activity of NINTH CIRCLE members at Indian residential schools across Canada, and with the continued murder of indigenous women and children by this Circle on the west coast of Canada. Rev. Annett will appear in Court next week, sometime after April 14, to be examined by the Prosecution and present further evidence.

  4. Former NINTH CIRCLE participants whose evidence was presented in Court last Tuesday, April 8 testify that Cree Indians in northern Canada are being continually targeted by the Circle for torture and murder because of the valuable uranium resources on their lands which are coveted by the United States military and corporations associated with the NINTH CIRCLE and their adherents within both the American and Canadian governments. The names of prominent Canadian and American politicians and corporate officials who engage in these Circle ritual killings have been named in Court and entered into the evidence record.

  5. The NINTH CIRCLE began at least three centuries ago in the Vatican but has expanded to embrace local satanic child sacrifice cults across Europe and the Americas. Thanks to Catholic pressure, the Circle affiliated strongly with Nazi cultic groups that had close ties with the Waffen S.S. during the 1930’s and ’40’s, including the so-called KNIGHTS OF DARKNESS, whose members included former Pope Benedict, Joseph Ratzinger. Many of these members continued their murderous acts against children after World War Two, especially in Canada. Testimony was received from the sole survivor of a Knights of Darkness cult at the former Royal Canadian Air Force Base known as Lincoln Park in Calgary, Alberta. The Witness observed the ritual torture and killing of twenty abducted children by a former SS doctor and three other “Knights” working under cover as Canadian military personnel, between the years 1956 and 1958. Records of the SS doctor codenamed “Major Bob Armstrong” (SS number “091374 SS“) have been confirmed by Canadian government documents obtained by the Court from a former official of the Canadian Military Intelligence Agency, the NIS.

  6. Other witnesses to NINTH CIRCLE cults confirm the presence of British Royal Family members MOUNTBATTEN and PRINCE PHILIP at these child sacrifices, whose presence was concealed by defendant WELBY. Jesuit officers including defendants PACHON and BERGOGLIO were also present at the same rituals at Carnarvon Castle in Wales and at an undisclosed French Chateau, during the 1980’s and 1990’s. Similar sacrifices were conducted at Catholic and Anglican Indian residential schools in Kamloops, British Columbia and Brantford, Ontario during the 1960’s and earlier, according to statements from living and deceased indigenous eyewitnesses.

      7. A massive child trafficking network operating through official Roman Catholic adoption, “planned parenthood” and   foster care agencies was  described by a witness with inside knowledge of this network and its coordination through a special office at the Vatican. This office siphons children into NINTH CIRCLE cultic activity and child sexual trafficking networks around the world, according to another witness, a former employee of the Curia in Rome.

     8. An eyewitness to the personal involvement of Pope Francis, Jorge Bergoglio, in such child trafficking in Argentina during the reign of the military Junta has presented his affidavit to the Court. He is a former civil servant with the Junta and is in protected custody in Spain. He will appear before the Court to corroborate his statement.

Further evidence of the Prosecution will be disclosed in upcoming bulletins, and according to the decisions of the Court Magistrates. 

Issued by the Public Information Agency of The Citizen Prosecutor’s Office of the Court.
10 April, 2014 

See the evidence of Genocide in Canada and other crimes at and at the website of The International Tribunal into Crimes of Church and State at www.itccs.organd, the site for the Common Law court network.An International, multi-lingual ITCCS site can be found at:
The complete Common Law Court proceedings of Genocide in Canada are found at: – Common Law Court Proceedings – Genocide in Canada  (Part One) – 1 hr. 46 mins. – Common Law Court Proceedings – Genocide in Canada  (Part Two) – 1 hr. 47 mins. – Final Court Verdict and Sentencing – 8 mins. 30 secs. – Authorizations and Endorsements of ITCCS/Kevin Annett by indigenous eyewitnesses – 10 mins. – Irene Favel, Eyewitness to the incineration of a newborn baby by a priest at Muscowegan Catholic Indian school, Saskatchewan, 1944 – Other key testimonies from our Court case against genocide in Canada

Kevin Annett is a Nominee for the Nobel Peace Prize (2013)Messages for him can be left at 250-591-4573 (Canada) or 386-323-5774 (USA). His personal website is .

“I gave Kevin Annett his Indian name, Eagle Strong Voice, in 2004 when I adopted him into our Anishinabe Nation. He carries that name proudly because he is doing the job he was sent to do, to tell his people of their wrongs. He speaks strongly and with truth. He speaks for our stolen and murdered children. I ask everyone to listen to him and welcome him.”
Chief Louis Daniels – Whispers Wind
Elder, Crane Clan, Anishinabe Nation, Winnipeg, Manitoba


Mind Control, Calendars, and Change

Mostly I’ve written about mind control from a very personal vantage – the struggle to get free of the worst sort of it – while recognizing that the most general sort of it may be so intrinsic to the nature of who we are that it will always be a part of society, the only question being to what degree.

In any case, I assert we must do aikido with mind control programming, dancing out of its way – rather than ignore it as we’re so encouraged to do.

Most people think about mind control as hypnotic programming or voice-to-skull technology – both of which I’m certain I’ve experienced, along with a great variety of other technological, pharmacological, and other experimentation – but it is so much more.

Mind control begins with birth trauma (all sorts are induced by modern medicine), and continues with day care, education, news, history, economic manipulation, law, law enforcement, entertainment, war, etc.

time-travel-forward-backwardBut mind control predates even these basic elements of society; when humans were separated from their Earth-based calendars and forced to accept an arbitrary industrial work week, our minds were fractured.  We were weakened, given inducements and threats, and we agreed to calibrate our minds to the needs of industry.

In 2002 I’d been feeling a gut horror at this idea growing in me for twenty years.  I was still pulling myself together after a nervous breakdown, or spiritual crisis, in 1993, and was obsessed with the idea that we needed to learn to pay attention to the sky, stars, moon, wildlife, and planting and foraging cycles.  The idea of a calendar to help me do that had been growing in me since the 1980s, and I finally did something about it.

One October day, I told a friend I’d delayed the project too long again, and it would be impossible to throw it together now, and he (a printer) encouraged me to reconsider.  Because my life was fairly simple, living out in the country, I decided I could do it, and began.

I solicited writing and art, designed the weeks, and wrote pages on the Equinoxes and Solstices and others entitled, “Pre-Industrial Time,” “About Moon Names,” “Thanksgiving” (on Native American customs), “Kwanzaa,” “TV Turn-Off Week,” and more.

Each “moon week” began on a Full Moon, New Moon, or Half Moon (any day of the week), rather than a Gregorian Sunday or Monday, and each week was either 7 or 8 days.  Gregorian months and days were incorporated into the calendar, of course, but the moon weeks shoved them around instead of the reverse.

People responded well to the Almanac.  Three-hundred copies of the 2003 Almanac/Datebook/Journal for Southern Arizona were ready for sale in early December (not much time for a single person to sell them all),  and all were sold by February.  Next near I  sold out my printing of 500.

Unknown-1Because I’d been a hermit ignoring the news, I was surprised to learn almost a decade later that Jose Arguelles had published (also in 2002)  a substantial book – Time and the Technosphereon this subject of the Gregorian calendar being the most fundamental aspect of human mind control.  (A web search for the title will bring up many videos and articles by others resonating with this idea that the calendar is basic to our control.)

Some of the metaphysics of Arguelle’s book was beyond me, but I’d certainly felt the subtle impact of the mind control the Gregorian calendar is.

images-1From the time we sit in kindergarten, learning to read the calendar and reciting, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday…, we understand we are part of a system which cycles 5-2-5-2-5-2-5-2…work long, play short, work long, play short, work long, play short.  And everything from that moment on which has anything to do with a calendar reminds us that we are part of a world of 5-2-5-2-5-2, work long, play short.

79The natural world teaches us something nicer:  slower cycles of 14-14-14-14…, balance.  As I wrote in all the Almanacs,

Ancient people invented – or discerned – patterns that seemed to facilitate harmonious living, that encouraged an energetic cycling of activity and rest, like inhaling and exhaling, waking and sleeping, summer energy and winter hibernation….

Today’s lifestyle requires many people to work intently for five consecutive days, resting for only two, relying on caffeine and/or other drugs to keep themselves going.  Perhaps the equal cycles of waning and waxing moons might inspire us to create more balance in our lives.

in timeMy partner then, Leo, claimed that if we all lived with this sort of balance, allowed ourselves to be less productive, slept more, took more time off, travelled less, and shopped less, we could solve a lot of our environmental and health problems.

Inspired, I would later write a poem entitled, “Pssst!  Quit Your Job!” in which I suggested a couple/few dozen other things a person might do that would be of service – real service – to their communities, that would be artful and satisfying to do – whatever days we chose to work.  (To read more easily, click to enlarge.)



Not everyone all at once, now!  (Or maybe….)

imagesBut it’s good to know that we can create a different world if we want to.  We could ignore the stupid ideas of industry – genetically-modified foods, fracking, and a million unnecessary consumer gadgets that will soon be in the landfill – and do something meaningful instead.

And we could work on our own schedule.  “Take it easy when someone’s ill, or the weather is especially nice.”

A few years ago, many years after the first two Almanacs had been published and I thought forgotten, in a single week three different individuals asked me when I’d publish another.  I waited for a couple of years and finally produced a third one, The 2013 or Year One Almanac, Datebook, and Journaltaking advice of many people to make it less local, so I could sell to a wider audience.  I didn’t like it, but it rekindled my love for the thing – though I didn’t have the energy to create one for 2014.

This is what I think should happen next:  Every bioregion should have it’s own Almanac.

To that end, I offer the pages in the back of last year’s version, the section entitled, “Make  your own Perpetual Moon Calendar!”  It contains instructions, templates for  four “moon weeks” (first quarter/waxing crescent, and so on), and “phases of the Moon” through 2017.

Collectives in each bioregion can put out a call for information, art, and ideas, and do like I did: sit at the kitchen table to draw, cut, paste, edit, peruse, and chat with friends (for me in the desert, they were few) while putting the book together.

I chose to eschew the computer for as much of the work as possible:

to remind us all, myself included, that sometimes we can break the rules, relax, and enjoy the imperfections.

Even though this is a day planner, I hope it won’t drive your days, but lead you through them with a little more kindness and ease than our efficiency-minded society usually wants us to grant ourselves.

As Ghandi said, “The purpose of life is not to do everything faster.”

Jean & Almanac


Here’s a link to my last Almanac.

In my next post (since this is after midnight), I’ll upload those “Make Your Own Perpetual Moon Calendar” pages, and pray we unleash a thousand or more bioregional Almanacs around the “civilized”/controlled world, birthed by women and men gathering the wisdom of their elders, reclaiming our relationship with Nature, breaking our mind control, and helping ourselves and our children find harmony again.

Let’s do it ~

And please share your work here if you’d like.  I’d love to see it.



* “Pssst! Quit Your Job” mini-poster art by Jean Eisenhower. Different versions of this I began to create around 2004-ish.  Even though I said “copyright” on this one, I’ve changed my mind; it and the Almanac are both now Creative Commons. Copy, swipe, redesign, evolve. Distribute freely.

** “Declare the Jubilee” in that poem is a Biblical reference.  If you don’t know about it, look it up.  It’s good.

Gov’t-Controlled Communications

FBI-Secrets-Swearingen-M-9780896085015Back in the late 90s, I read a memoir,  FBI Secrets:  An Agent’s Exposé, by retired agent, M. Wesley Swearingen, who after 26 years in the agency was involved in several successful lawsuits against the FBI related to wrongful imprisonment and civil rights violations.  (He was also involved in several successful lawsuits against his former employer, including “The US v. John Lennon,” and also wrote a book attempting to shed light on the murder of John F. Kennedy.)


He described carloads of up to 12 agents with a routine that gave each person a specific job, so that there could be no errors:  one person watched in one direction, others watched other directions, more watched from other points nearby, someone opened the house, others watched from various posts inside the house, photographers, observers trained to return everything to their precise places, record keepers, drivers, etc.

They entered the homes of anyone, even elderly peace activists, and photographed all sorts of information they hoped would lead to any sort of understanding of these war resisters and all their connections.  Swearingen was concerned because he knew the people were of no real threat to the United States, only practicing their right of free speech and trying to participate in our “democracy.”  Nevertheless, they were targeted and their homes broken into on a regular basis.

So I’m not as oblivious as I wish I was.  Sometimes, I come home, and my cat is so upset, I ask, “Were the feds here?”

zelcolockup2A few years ago, a friend suggested I buy portable door locks, which she was astounded I hadn’t already done, given my experiences.  So I ordered two online and installed them as soon as they arrived.

On the second morning after I began to use them, February 8, 2011, I discovered one of them obviously broken, not as it appeared when I installed it the night before – and two very disturbing wounds on my body.  The first I noticed as soon as I awoke:  an irritation as though something had been inserted up alongside my clitoral shaft more than one inch deep inside!  (An implant?  What will they do with that?)  DSC01402The second was two scoop marks on my finger, which I’ve already posted about.  So much for the door locks for protection.

In 2012, I made a list of 98 various events that had happened between November 28, 2010, when I woke with the Taser burn, and April 12, 2012, when I began a long series of doctors’ appointments for unexplainable and debilitating neck pain – and afterward recalled a dozen more events, including scoop marks that I’d photographed a few days ago and forgotten.  In between, I’d experienced lots of debilitating and unaccountable exhaustion, bruises, neck pain, and more, so much that I was having a very difficult time keeping my job.

I’ve written about all these things before.

But there’s one subject I’ve never written about, and that is the communications harassment.  I haven’t written about it because it’s hard to prove, but I’ll put it out there in case others have noticed the same.

fb_icon_325x325When I tried Facebook for awhile, a few years ago, I started getting suspicions that my posts were being messed with.

One close friend I shared my concern with asked, “Why would they bother with you?  You aren’t doing anything serious, are you?”  Only exposing mind control.  She replied that lots of people do that or similar, and they aren’t messed with.  Actually, I told her, many are, and probably those who aren’t are only revealing what’s already been exposed by others, then peppering it with disinformation – as Swearingen and others exposing COINTELPRO have described.

(Noam Chomsky was quoted on BBC:  “COINTELPRO was a program of subversion carried out not by a couple of petty crooks but by the national political police, the FBI, under four administrations…  By the time it got through, … it was aimed at the entire new left, at the women’s movement, at the whole black movement, it was extremely broad.  Its actions went as far as political assassination.”  Watch.)

FBI-Secrets-Swearingen-M-9780896085015As Swearingen’s memoir proves, the intelligence agencies don’t need “serious” targets.  They want to quell anyone who’s threatening the corporate economy, war, and their mind control systems.  I also theorize they need “lesser threats,” like me, to practice their skills on, at least.  But since mind control subjects are kept controlled by fear, the Internet provides a very simple, low-cost way to inject worry, fear, isolation, and more into my life.  I may choose not to worry or fear, but I, and others, can still be easily and effectively isolated.

They have a long history of doing exactly what I’ve described back when it was a whole lot more trouble:  they’d have to do custom work on typewriters to create imperfections similar to the typewriter of the targeted person!  Many people would be required (your tax dollars at work), even for peace activists.  They studied people’s styles of speech and writing to make their fake communications most believable, and compiled psychological databases so they could refer occasionally to personal things in a most believable way.

Now it’s so much easier, all the data needed delivered to their desktops.  Responses easy-sneezy:  no more matching, ink, paper, and handwriting or typeface.

Their goals were and are:  to discredit activists, cause fights and rifts in groups, mislead, and more.

For whatever reason, it seemed they were interferring in my Facebook communications.  It would always involve someone not close enough to me that I’d feel comfortable calling them to ask exactly what was the wording they read, supposedly from me, that caused them to respond to me the way they did.  But usually the response was just subtle enough, not worth a call – or too much trouble to explain.

Regularly, I had friendly acquaintances, just “distant” enough, suddenly become pointedly less friendly and avoid me on the street.  And not just a few.  I started dreading walking down the street, for fear I’d be shunned for I didn’t know what.  It was very depressing.

One day, I posted something then logged out of Facebook, and logged back in under my partner’s name, and checked my page.  My post did not exist!  I logged out and went back to my page and saw it again.  Logged out and back in as my partner, and again it didn’t exist.  Fifteen minutes later, it was there on his page, exactly as I’d written it – of course, they wouldn’t be so stupid as to change my post for my partner.  But my partner’s posts always show up immediately and get responses from friends in the first few seconds.  Mine always took 15-20 minutes before people began responding.  Weird.

I theorized that they had created tiers of my friends and acquaintances, changing my posts for whomever I was not likely to talk to and who wouldn’t broach the subject of a weird post with me.  It was really upsetting to think that the feds were creating a negative portrait of me that I’d supposedly never know about.  And suddenly, even though I did not post about mind control on Facebook, I was losing friends for no other reason I could figure.

Some friends have said that this is just too much trouble, but it’s not.  The software to do what I’ve described – diverting communications – already exists.  Software for creating “action plans” for various people – serious criminals, mind control subjects, those warranting medium or serious harassment, and those warranting mild harassment, maybe just to practice on.  I used to have business software over 15 years ago that would have facilitated most of this.

You can bet there are rooms full of agents with data available at the click of a key to guide them regarding frequency, level of action, key phrases, etc.  A single person could easily intervene in 100 communications in a workday.  Even if I was a low-level concern, I’d be used for practice, with just enough weirdness to keep me isolated and fearful, just what they want for mind control subjects.

I have similar concerns with email.  Recently, I contacted an old acquaintance I was hoping to visit, but he became hostile for some reason I cannot fathom (except for this), and I wondered if the feds made him think I was causing problems, or if the feds made me think he was.  He’s just distant enough that I don’t dare call him, especially since he seemed so angry (though he might not really have been).  I have no idea what they might have portrayed me as.

It’s extremely sad.  And isolating.  Making me tough, I like to think, but I don’t know.

With our world so accustomed to instant communication – without being interrupted by phone calls – we’re dependent on the Internet, yet I can’t trust the Internet anymore, and I can’t explain to most people why I don’t.  So I keep on, but it feels very vulnerable.

The only option would be to stop my activism, which I won’t.

I also used to get regular Internet reminders to update software for remote control of my computer!  Apparently I have the software on it – otherwise, it wouldn’t recommend updating – but I cannot find it; it’s invisible to me.  Finally I chose to have it “not remind me” anymore.  But I assume it’s still there.

I’ve thought of getting a Linux computer, but then they’d have to break into my house to do what they do, and I’d rather they not.  Big Brother is certainly here.  If he just weren’t a murderer and torturer, I might accept the “transparency.”

I’ve also had my computer turn itself on in the middle of the night when I was up and unable to sleep.  Sitting next to it, it suddenly sprang to life and started humming as if it was downloading or uploading data.

I Was OneWhen I produced my first YouTube-logo-full_colorvideo, “I Was One”, it received over 2,000 hits in less than two weeks, and then one day the numbers dropped to half that!  The same thing happens all the time on my channel:  I’ve seen the numbers drop from 12,000 to 10,000 in a day, and who knows how many other times it has done that.

Anyone else experience similar?

Learning through the Pain

I’m recovering, yet again, from another “hard day,” Monday, when I woke up at 10 am (I’d been unable to sleep until 3 am) and had to force myself to do anything, which turned out to be very little.

DSC05256Eight days earlier, on August 17, I’d discovered a strange injury on my left shoulder blade, where two other things have mysteriously appeared in the last couple of years, which still bother me:

In April 2012, I woke one morning with an itch on my left shoulder blade that didn’t go away for 4-8 weeks.  (Greg was bothered by an itch on his left shoulder blade too at the same time, but I’m more highly sensitive and so was bothered longer.)

Later, a fan-shaped bruise appeared, with its point right where the itch had been for so long.  I theorized that an implant was radiating some sort of energy that was bruising the tissue.

Over two years has passed, and the bruise has become a more-amorphous shape, but is still there, and doctors have no explanation.  (Well, one had an idea, but the diagnosis didn’t fit the condition’s description, and the next doctor thought the first was wrong, but had no idea.  She’s seen all my photographs, read about MK, and just shakes her head.)

When I woke with this strange injury on August 17, very near where the original itch had been, I wondered if perhaps “they” had scooped it out, or replaced it, and whether the bruise will soon fade.  We’ll see.

The photo above shows the new injury and the two-year-old bruise.  (Double click on it to see it larger, and you can even zoom in for decent detail.)  I took this photo last night, August 26, a full nine days after it appeared, and it has hardly healed at all.

This is interesting, because most of my weird  injuries heal mysteriously fast – like the “thyroid surgery” scar, which showed up on my throat one morning entirely healed).  Can’t explain it, other than that it seems like someone with higher technology than ours might have done it.

Learning:  I Need to Focus

Now that I’m feeling stronger, I went back through a journal only a week old and read things I’ve totally forgotten – things important to remember, about my healing.  And reading my posts from two years ago, I realize they also contain great advice I wish I’d remembered and continued to practice!

Therefore, I’ve decided I need to quit doing so much and just focus on my healing.  

So I’m quitting!

I’m quitting a lot of things.  I’m quitting my garden design workshop and consulting business.  I’m quitting singing.  And I’m forgetting any idea to get part-time work.  (I’ll get my first Social Security check next month, and I have a partner who brings in a little income, so I have this luxury.)

The only things I’ll keep doing are my own personal healing work and writing related to it.  I also plan to keep better track of past writing, so I can remember past lessons and make some progress.

I’m – maybe for the first time in my life – going to make taking care of myself my number one priority every day.  Yeah!

Blessings on us all.

And really:  Take care of yourself.



PS:  Here’s a blog I wrote two years ago with similar conclusions:

Two circle bruises appear

DSC04837Twenty-six days ago, on July 21, I discovered a doughnut-shaped bruise on the back of my thigh.

It was oddly painless, and I have no idea how I might have done that to myself.

I found myself telling Greg it reminded me of an audio electrical plug, with one electrical pole, positive or negative, in the center and the opposite pole on the circle.DSC04851

Tonight, I found an essentially identical bruise on my arm – again, with no idea how it was done, and again, oddly painless.

The only difference is that the hole in the middle is bigger.

IMG_1725This has been an amazing few weeks.  Thinking I was dying, deciding I had to claim who I am – a shamanic practitioner, a mind control subject, an experiencer of things “alien,” etc.

To accept who I am, I wrote my spiritual history and discovered that as I write my history and integrate it, even slowly, across my business, activist, spiritual websites, and into my social life, I feel more integrated, more clear, less fractured.

And then this happens.

(In the past, I would have fumed that my controllers are still “doing stuff” to me, trying to undercut my confidence, or worse, send me a message of warning to not try to accomplish anything, and I’d go into depression, helpless and despairing.  And then I’d pray and feel guilty for being so undisciplined as to not keep myself continually protected.)

For some reason, I didn’t freak out this time.  I even forgot about the bruise immediately after seeing it, forgetting to photograph it as I’d intended, and walked out the door to break my hermitting habit of the last few weeks and go socialize for an hour or two at the restaurant where Greg was performing.

After I’d greeted everyone I knew and sat down, something made me notice the bruise again – and for the first time in 12 years – I showed everyone at the table and told them what I assumed it was.  Even a friend who has read my book wanted to believe it was a freak accident.  I had to remind her I have ten years of photographic documentation of bruises of various types, two Taser burns, many biopsy scoop marks, healed incisions, puncture wounds, etc, which occur mysteriously during the night, for which I have no memory of anything.  And this corresponds to experiences of others with another two strange correlations:  seeing UFO’s and/or “aliens” and experiencing mysterious government intrusions into their lives.

Yeah, I told them, face-to-face.  Not in a book.  Not in a presentation on stage, radio, or TV, but as a friend in a bar, saying, “This is what I live with.  This is what I’ve been keeping secret.  And it sure feels good to say it – even though I know you’d rather not hear it.”

And I thought:  And this is why I’m so f**king neurotic and don’t act like everyone else!  I’m sorry.  But this is my world.  I wish I could confirm for everyone that our world is the simple one we all try to pretend it is.  But it’s really more complicated.  There’s a lot more going on.  And it’s time we talk about it.

That was probably inspired by the video I blogged on a few weeks back, “How to Spot a Liar,” the most revolutionary video I’ve seen in a long time, which has been part of my big shift over the last few weeks.

e0abd465f89c59c998d50740e2af2e024263e1a5_800x600Pamela Meyer begins her Ted Talk by encouraging us to recognize that we are all liars, and have been trained to be liars since birth.  I didn’t believe her at first, but she quickly helped me see that we do all lie, much of the time, and many of the lies are for efficiency and are acceptable, but some lies create habits that allow our world systems, economic, social, environmental, and all others, to deteriorate.  She calls on us to stop collaborating.

Immediately I saw that I lied constantly when I pretend I have a life like everyone else’s.  And I realized that I needed to present myself more honestly, politely and appropriately, but more honestly, even if people don’t like it.

I’m sorry, I hear myself saying.  We live in a world that has gotten us used to accepting a lot of lies.  And we want to believe those lies, because they’re part of our paradigm, our mental framework; losing our mental framework is damnably difficult and people avoid it at all costs, even if it’s necessary, the same way we’d recoil at re-breaking an arm if it had healed wrong.

We need to get over those lies and start acknowledging what is the truth.

This is my truth:  I get strange bruises and other marks that don’t seem to be accidental or natural, and no one – no doctor or other with “legitimacy” – has any explanation that makes sense.

My explanation I’ll write about soon, and parts of it I’ll  also acknowledge in conversation when appropriate.

And this supports the really important thing:

It’s time for me to accept my call to – this responsibility we today call shamanic practice.

I have responsibilities I can feel, to pray, meditate, dream, journey, and heal.  And I haven’t been making the time or space in my life for this, for years, though it continues to call.  And now we are making changes in our home to support my work.

With this decision, I feel strong, that I’ve re-entered my path which I’ve been avoiding for a very long time, and that avoidance has been making me crazy.

(Black Elk said his elders told him his demons would continue to torment him until he accepted his calling!  They were bothering him for a good purpose.  In the event my demons are bothering me for the same positive purpose, I pray my new dedication to this work will make them go away.)

So today, when I found this bruise, I just saw it as another clue in a tantalizing mystery, which I’m keenly interested in solving.  It could be a horror-story answer, or it could be something surprisingly wonderful –

like the “Dragonfly Birth Day” taught me:  Something might look monstrous, but it may turn out beautiful, so we shouldn’t jump to conclusions.

Maybe this bruise is a mark left from a procedure my soul family had to do, and it’s too hard to explain to me, given my Earthly and our other limitations, and there’s lots going on that doesn’t allow everything to be explained.  Or maybe it’s just like all the rest of life – no one explains anything very well to any of us anytime – right?

So, life’s a mystery.  And we’re all doing our best.

Meantime, it’s not a good investment of life energy to get freaked out if we don’t know if a thing is good or bad.   And even if it’s bad, it’s still not a good investment of life energy to get freaked out.

In the last few weeks, I’ve had at least one other event that made me want to freak out, and the last time I started to, I remembered that I’ve also been experiencing a lot of powerfully amazing things, especially lately, helping me feel more integrated; so maybe instead of freaking out, this time I could step into new behavior and ask myself if I can develop some new quality or behavior to respond differently to the challenge, say, for instance, become bigger, faster, more insightful, more responsive?  I looked at the thing that had felt so threatening, and said, “I can be different [in relation to this],” and felt myself reorient and strengthen in my core, and breathe with deep relaxation.

So when I first saw the bruise tonight, I looked at it through those new eyes.

Something is going on, but I’m not speculating now, other than to say I believe it’s high tech.  And I’ll respond.

I’ll write more as I experience, reflect, imagine, dream, feel, and understand it.


Shamanism, Mind Control, Christ, “Aliens,” and Me

[This no longer reflects my views on shamanism and Yeshua.  For an update, see this blog.]

What is shamanism?  How do I relate to shamanism?  Is shamanism dangerous?  How does it relate to mind control?  Am I a shaman?  Am I dangerous?  Where does Jesus fit in?  Who are “aliens”?

imagesFirst, What is shamanism?

Shamanism exists across all cultures under different names, but the Siberian word has come to stand in for our contemporary understanding of the global, cross-cultural practice.

In all cultures, a few people (some estimate 2% or fewer) seem to have greater ability than others to perceive energies and intelligences in other dimensions and are often encouraged by their tribe to spend time in this practice of perception for the good of the people.

(The exception is for those born into a society hostile to or afraid of other dimensions, in which case, the shamanically-inclined person’s perceptions will be discouraged subtly or violently, i.e., those born in the United States.)

The natural shaman who is allowed to explore his or her facility will devote the majority of his or her life to learning to perceive more clearly, learning to protect him or herself from dangerous energies or intelligences, learning to communicate with useful and benevolent intelligences, and learning how to apply what they learn to help their tribe.  They will be an important source of knowledge to the tribe, for instance on growing and harvesting food and medicines, knowing of food game migrations, knowing the approach of strangers or bad weather, and healing for various illnesses, physical, emotional, spiritual, and social.

DVD template dollMany shamans are those who suffered at least one serious trauma at a young age; it caused them to leave their body and thereby experience the multi-dimensional world beyond the mundane.  For this reason, at least one tribe that I’ve heard of, when in need of a shaman, creates one intentionally by inducing a trauma on a young child in a carefully proscribed way: they separate a child of speaking age away from the tribe but within hearing distance in a cage where he or she is kept for a few years, cared for in a minimal way, but never spoken to or spent time with other than necessary.  The child can hear the tribe, but cannot interact and so eventually begins to spend more time separating psychically from the mundane and social life of the tribe and turn his or her awareness toward the larger cosmos.  This larger world, of course, includes other dimensions with other intelligences that they begin to interact with and with which they develop strong relationships.  Eventually the tribe retrieves the child and reintegrates him or her with honor back into the tribe, but the young shaman is never again like the rest.  For the rest of his or her life, the shaman will perform the daily work of seeking and delivering information and skills the tribe needs for survival and well-being.

Shamans generally communicate most effectively with intelligences in other realms when in an “altered” state of consciousness, which they self-induce by way of drumming, rattling, dancing, and sometimes using plant medicines.  From the standpoint of those trained in church settings, with hymn books, “Sunday clothes,” choir robes, and certain proscribed decorum, especially of First World America, these methods may seem superstitious and perhaps frightening.  This is, of course, a matter of cultural indoctrination.

How do I relate to shamanism?

The United States of America, of course, is not a culture that appreciates shamanic wisdom, but rather is hostile to it.  So when I, as a young child, had interactions with child-like angels, went into portals at night (which came to me, though I could never open them on my own), and spoke with plants and animals, I learned quickly to keep these things secret, and soon decided to put them out of my life.  Of course, when I began school, there was no time to investigate further with a schedule of American “education” and entertainment – probably designed so – and I soon “forgot” about my experiences.

I also remember the time I was told by beings who seemed like my family on other dimensions that I wouldn’t see them for “a very long time.”  I was devastated and pleaded for them not to go away.  They assured me it was necessary and they’d be watching over me, but I wouldn’t be able to be with them again for a long time.  The unspecific “long time” was additionally distressing, as I had nothing to look forward to.  They insisted I trust them and do my best on my own, promising they’d watch over me.  (I recognize, with this story, that I can’t entirely blame America for discouraging my shamanic awareness; it might have been required anyway, for some reason I do not understand.)

As an adult I continued to experience occasional “non-normal” events, much less frequently, but still very amazing.  I kept quiet about them, and this inclination was reinforced when I witnessed the mockery dealt to those who told of experiences like mine.

In 1994, at age 42, when my own children were on their own, I moved to the desert of Cochise County, Arizona, where for half of each week, I spent my days without clocks or calendar, eating when hungry, sleeping when tired, watching sunrises, sunsets, weather, animals, and the landscape changing with the seasons.  I read and wrote about whatever I wanted whenever I wanted, and spent every sunset outside.  The other half of the week, I attended graduate school for creative writing, and lived on student loans, which allowed me this indulgence.

teepee under oaksAfter a year, I left the hermitage but returned in 2000, uncertain what I would be doing, but willing to live (simply, with no mortgage and few other expenses) on credit cards – for at least awhile.  The freedom I gave myself seemed to open doors, and I was soon experiencing a wealth of non-normal events, which a friend put words to:  a shamanic initiation.

Is shamanism dangerous?

That’s like asking if the world is dangerous.  Yes, depending on what you do in the world or the other realms.

Some shamans don’t use discernment, get conned, and connect with evil or troublesome intelligences on other realms and are subsequently known as bad shamans, bad ministers, witches, brujos or brujas.  (Good ones are known as shamans, good ministers, curanderos, curanderas, also brujos or brujas, witches, and many other names.)

How does this relate to mind control?

Bad shamans, I assert, can also be created by others – similar to the tribe’s method for good purposes, but this is done by controllers for potentially very dark purposes.

This, I believe, is a barely understood aspect of the darkest sort of mind control (MK), in which the subject is trained in psychic skills for other’s purposes, not for the good of the tribe.

Milder forms of mind control are of course also practiced broad-scale on the general populace, but I’m writing here about the darkest aspects of a most intense version of MK practiced on selected individuals, which involves the creation of amnesic super soldiers, couriers, spies, assassins, and sex slaves – and among them individuals with enhanced psychic abilities for remote viewing and more.

Our nation’s intelligence agencies have been highly interested in psychic powers for many decades, at least.  And many adults who were made subjects of mind control experiments as children recall being tested for psychic skills.  (I don’t have this particular memory, but I remember little other than MK intake and nightmares afterward.  And I have noticed profound psychic events most of my life.)

If those intelligence agencies could train an army of psychic spies, of course they would.  But they would need to make the psychic/shamanic spies totally loyal to them, and amnesic.  The subjects’ shamanic skills might not even be known to the subjects and would be totally in service to the controllers.

I believe the process they put us through – mind control, or MKULTRA – included a perverse variation on the ancient, but apparently rare, tribal practice of creating shamans, only they isolated us and tortured us brutally, so that we’d be both amnesic and totally subservient.

It seems to have worked well enough, judging by the number of people who believe they’ve been used as psychic information gatherers for most of their lives, with memories of remote viewing (some of my experiences) and even some with memories of conducting spiritual warfare on behalf of others.

The army of MK subjects is aging now, and our control may be breaking down.  With age, mental structures – including amnesic barriers – begin deteriorating.  Memories that were supposed stay hidden begin to arise, and the controlled ones begin to put together pieces of what happened to them.  Then, controllers have to weigh the risks and benefits of keeping them in service.  They may still have value, may still perform their duties regularly enough, but they need reprogramming more and more often.  I believe I’m in this latter category and that the frequency of physical wounds left on my body are evidence of this.

Some of us are also talking and educating others.  That creates more work for someone in the system to discredit us or divert our communications efforts.  If we become too much trouble, then they apparently kill the individual.  But if they can manage the downsides without too much effort, they can continue using their assets (representing decades of investment).

While I’ve begun understanding all this, I’ve begun reclaiming my shamanic skills for my own uses.

Am I a shaman?  Am I dangerous?

No, I’m not a shaman.  I’m a common “shamanic practitioner” (meaning simply, at this point:  I pray daily and spend time listening and recording).

I have occasionally been used to heal a number of people, receive messages from people who’d died unexpectedly, and other shamanic tasks.   I didn’t try to do this and sometimes resisted, but spirit nudged me and I allowed the actions to flow through me.

I pray I’m not dangerous as a potentially controllable shamanic practitioner, but I don’t know for certain – which is why I quit working with activist groups and quit offering psychic, shamanic, and healing work (which I did for a very short while).  It’s even why I quit my own private shamanic practice for a while: occasionally, I’ve thought it best to try to live only in the mundane world.

(Silly me.  Once the extra-dimensional doors are open, it doesn’t seem possible to close them.  Or else our other-dimensional helpers simply need us on this plane Unknown-2

and won’t leave us alone – as shaman Black Elk described in his biography.)


Taser burn (second-degree, removing skin) that appeared overnight, November 29, 2010, photographed two days later.

So I still wake up with evidence on my body that tells me that something was done to me in the night for which I have absolutely no memory:  two Taser burns, four or five incidents of two or three obvious “scoop marks” or biopsies, many bruises including apparent injection bruises, lacerations inside my vagina, apparent implants in various locations, and mysteriously healed and obvious surgical and other scars – a total of well over one-hundred physical marks since I began recording them a decade ago (see photo history on this site).  Plus many incidents of “missing time,” being conscious but immobilized, sensing vibrational/dimensional changes, being shot with energy beams, and even surrounded by strange fog forcing me to stop on the highway (one of three times).

I’ve tried not to assume the worst about this, that I’m being used by others for bad purposes.  When I have assumed the worst, I’ve sought help, found none, and then wanted out of this life – but I feel very certain that that’s not best for my soul, so I stay and eventually come out of my depression.  And I try to keep an open mind to other possibilities while also enjoying life and being a useful member of my community.

A positive explanation for all these marks is that they’re left by spirit family who, for whatever reason, can’t communicate with me because of my personal and our cultural mind control or other reasons, and actually all these things (or some of them) are for good, though I can’t understand now.  But I have no support for this other than my own wish for a positive interpretation.

Where does Jesus fit in?

58d2d41dd980effea93bdd5a21a5dac5I’ve read a few times that there’s no historical evidence for the existence of Jesus, and I’ve read that there is.  I don’t know.

do know that I’ve had extremely positive experiences a few times in my life when I contemplated his teachings and also when I’ve called on him – even in thoughtless, terrorized shock – for protection.  At those times I felt, not only that Christ was a powerful inter-dimensional being who could be called on for help, but that I know him on other dimensions, have known him for many lifetimes, and we’re kin.

So why am I not a “Christian”?  I used to be.  I even used to be a Christian minister’s wife.  But I’ve had horrendous experiences with Christians, particularly in assisting my husband in wresting my children away from me for no more reason than that I believed divorce was acceptable.  So today I have a visceral revulsion to the sight of pews in a church “sanctuary.”  (I got my children back after two years.)

I consider Christ’s teachings and the Christian Church to be entirely separate things.  After all, the Church was begun by the same government that for over 300 years used murder and torture to repress his followers; so it’s obvious to me that the Roman Church was the beginning of a massive disinformation campaign to attract would-be followers of Christ and trap them in religious routines.  Protestants tried to get away from it, but each break-away group has been infiltrated and controlled in a similar manner.  Even my last church, purportedly an independent “home church” where the dozen members would meet and take turns in leadership, was diverted in its intentions by a controlling couple who not only tried to take my children away from me, but did the same over a few years with two other divorcing couples, along with putting down any discussion of social justice (a major teaching of Christ’s) as “divisive.”

When I finally realized that rejecting the Church and rejecting Christ were two different things, I had to figure out how Christ fit into my shamanically-evolving life.  For instance, would he accept my efforts to connect with and learn from power animals as well as him?

yy12Here’s my conclusion to date:  We live in an ocean of spirit, highly populated with good and bad, benevolent and evil beings, many in-between, evolving, stupid, not-so-stupid-but-not-helpful-enough-to-bother-with, and everything in between.  Perhaps it swirls like an infinitely intricate yin-yang design.  On the benevolent side is Christ as the leading light, teaching, prophesying, offering to save us and help us everyday; on the other side is everything we call evil, including mind control.

Here’s where my theology breaks from the masses:  Even though Christ is an infinitely intelligent being, and infinite in powers, he doesn’t personally, magically do everything asked of him by his followers.  I see his existence as much more natural and organic than that.  As the largest tree in the forest doesn’t “do everything” for itself, but is served by birds, insects, fungi, moss, mammals, rain, etc., so Christ is served by other connected intelligences who serve our needs as go-betweens on Christ’s behalf.

Some people call the go-between intelligences the Holy Spirit or angels, others call them devas, faeries, elementals, and even aliens.  I try to ignore the language because the cultural cartoons associated with the words get in our way of deeper, subtler understanding; cartoons are probably part of our cultural mind control, used to mock and disempower otherwise very empowering truths.

So I imagine an infinite field of intelligent energy, among which Christ is supreme, at least at this arm of our galaxy, at least for me and those of us who choose to align with him.  When we direct energy and requests his way, the same way a tree root directs a need toward fungi in the soil, the communication is heard and responded to via a series of interactions, not a simple two-part process; and our needs are met in the multi-dimensional world in a similar manner as needs are met in the natural world on the material plane, via many interactions with many parts, intelligences, or beings.

As a shamanic practitioner, communicating in the multiple dimensions, I petition Christ first and last.  Often, he seems to respond by sending a particular person, angel, situation, or spirit animal (or physical animal) my way.

I used to feel very conflicted about this, as though I were hedging my bets, not being loyal to The One – though The One is All, many say.  Then I attended a shamanic conference and witnessed three-quarters of a roomful of a hundred-and-fifty shamanic practitioners raise their hands to the question “Who considers Jesus Christ a major help among your spirit helpers?”  That gave me permission to trust my vision of this world as a great network of evolving intelligence, inside which I could align myself with Christ, but still be connected to all that was also aligned with him, which is a huge net of Life on many dimensions.

And then I read about the Avodah Zarah, a Jewish text, in which Christ was called Yeshua ben Panther – a very shamanic-sounding name!  (Similar to “Lion of Judah” and “Lion of God,” other Biblical names.)  And I recalled Christ saying that we would “do all these things [healings, he was speaking of] and more” – exactly what shamans do!

While Christians may pray to Christ each day, their practice is usually based on following proscribed doctrine – words delivered by others – which tell them how to live in this material world.  I, on the other hand, have very little doctrine, and that which I have I’ve developed from my own personal experience.

Recently I’ve renewed my dedication to devote a great deal of my time to prayer and communicating with Christ and other intelligences in the other realms, and my communications are most successful when I alter my consciousness and focus my attention into other dimensions using the shamanic practices of drumming and rattling, but that’s not always necessary.  The right heartfelt attitude is enough, but the rituals are important focusing activities.

Who are “aliens”?

First, as I’ve said many times, “aliens” is too big a concept for the word to be useful – like using “marine life” to describe everything from algae to whales to human’s submarines.

I’ll use the word, though, to indicate all intelligence not bound to this mundane, three-dimensional planet, i.e., extra-terrestrial and/or extra-dimensional beings.

Many of them are reputedly “good,” supporting our evolution, while some seem to be at the very least challenging our evolution or, at worst, imprisoning us and controlling our minds, and maybe even harvesting genetic material.  I don’t know, but others have risked everything dear to them to assert such “crazy” ideas, and I hate to say that I also seem to have evidence all these things as well.

My experience with “aliens” does not include any that seem like the typical small “grays” with large, slanted, all-black eyes.  Rather, I’ve been unfortunate to have been terrorized by the types called Reptilians on EarthReptilians, even though until they became conscious to me, I’d thought the tales were unfortunate disinformation meant to discredit the whole field regarding aliens.  I’ve also seen over a dozen UFO’s, sometimes with others as witnesses.

Many researchers have documented connections between mind control and aliens, Reptilians in particular.  And while I’ve not read much of their reporting on the subject, I’ve developed my own theory, admittedly vague (vagueness is my inclination while trying to understand multi-dimensional reality with a three-dimensional mindset – seems only honest, given the limitations of language).

My vague theory is this:  I believe that, among all the alien intelligences interacting with Earth, most are benevolent, akin to anthropologists, researchers, observers, diplomats, teachers, and prophets, and to other mindsets, angels.  But there also exists other intelligence, more self-serving, among them the Reptilians, akin to pirates, corporate resource raiders, and to other mindsets, demons.

This is the “exo-political” viewpoint.  (The word exopolitics was coined by Alfred L. Webre, JD, author of Exopolitics and former Jimmy Carter White House appointee, who called my book “an important historical document”).  He writes, “We live in a highly populated cosmos.”

(Some even say no aliens are actually evil, as “All is God,” but they are only provoking us to greater spiritual awareness and development.  I have a very hard time with this idea, having experienced childhood sexual abuse as part of my fracturing and mind control, but sometimes I truly feel this real possibility – that “It’s all okay.”)


anima_mundiOur already-complex, Earth-bound political views need to be expanded beyond this Earth, and thereby made even more complex (sorry to put on the pressure!), in order for us to understand our multi-dimensional reality and situation.

Until we do that, we are all mind-controlled, to greater or lesser extent, to limit our vision and laugh at anything larger, and thereby miss understanding who we are and where our dangers and our powers lie in the larger cosmos.  In accepting this simplified version of life, we remain terribly vulnerable and unable to appropriately address any of our social, environmental, political, psychological, and spiritual issues.  And indeed the world does seem incredible “stuck.”

So, even though this world wants to laugh at “aliens,” laugh at “Jesus Christ” (made such a mockery on television and in movies in particular), and perhaps roll our eyes at shamanic practice, I have to say:  I was forced to overcome my own personal aversions to all of these and was then finally able to open my mind to the reality of Christ and all the other intelligence in the cosmos.

It was difficult because I then also saw the dark energies surrounding us, and me.  Christians have tried to “save” me (again), but I’ve chosen to align with Christ in my own manner, on my own two humble feet, not under the authority of another minister.  I’ve been working (more consistently since my last dark three days) to strengthen my connections to Goodness and to break the bonds of mind control.

Like everything in life, the struggle continues.  There’s no easy fix.  (Shamans must continue to protect themselves daily).  And with each day, generally, I become stronger.  Sometimes I’ve wanted to give it up, the struggle is sometimes so difficult, but those days pass, and I find I’m stronger yet each time.

Most days, I live quite happily, a formerly “closet”-shamanic practitioner, coming out.  Sometimes I’d prefer to avoid the term shamanism, so loaded with cultural misunderstanding, but for others, the word says it perfectly.  So here I am:  A minister, writer, activist, and someone who relates to spirit in a manner we call shamanic.

Jean Eisenhower
Silver City, NM
August 9, 2014

Three Days in Darkness

Of course, we all know, or we’ve all heard, that spiritual progress on this human plane is never really “done,” and so I think it’s the same with healing, although certain aspects of healing may be accomplished, we always have more, and we’ll certainly experience more that must be healed.

So I think I shouldn’t have been taken so low last week – I think I should have understood and taken it in stride – but I didn’t.  I thought I’d had enough, and I wanted to die.

On the third evening of three painful days, I lay on my bed and really tried to give up the ghost.  My heart had been in pain (in a vice, it seemed) for three days, and I’d been shown a print-out of my slow heart rate with an unhealthy delay between the beats of the first and second chambers.  My arms and jaw startled me now and then with their own pains throughout those days – classic heart attack symptoms I’ve had before (which I attribute to my life of mind control electroshocks and Tasering).

But after lying down, crying, sobbing, and giving up this life, but not dying, and my heart pain mysteriously gone, I got up, accepted my fate (to live), and wrote in my journal that I was pissed and not happy about it at all.

Even as I outlined my points of justification, I realized things that I could control.

1.  I don’t have enough help!

Well, I thought in response, you aren’t very consistent about asking for help. 

Point taken.

2.  I don’t have enough understanding!

Ditto answer.


3.  I’m too messed with (my biggie, my Ace), which makes me too often too exhausted to do more than barely keep up, not a state worth continuing life for.  I never know when I’m going to wake with bruises, biopsy holes, or even Taser burns, all with incredible exhaustion which will zap all my energy and put everything in my life on hold for a week or two, making me look like a totally irresponsible person.  Not fair!

Oh, get off it!  You’ve known for a long time that nothing’s fair.  As for the attacks, you need to learn to stop them.  You need to rediscover your warrior part.  Yes, you’ve been trying, but maybe you haven’t been trying the right things, or the right timing, or something else, so life keeps on demanding this of you until you figure it out.  It’s the human condition, for where you are.  Get help, get creative, but figure it out.  Quit whining.  You know you’ve been strong in past lives and came into this world with a lot of wisdom, and yes, you’ve been “messed with,” as you say, mind controlled, but so has everyone, and even though yours might be a super-demanding version of it, it’s what you came here for.  You’re down right now, but you’ll get it.  That’s why we haven’t let you die yet.  You really do have the power to figure it out, even though you’re stumped now and angry (a cover for fear).  You’ll get over it.  And then you’ll get back to the Work.


And so I have.  And I have realized a couple of things that have kept me from my power:

First, I have been afraid to tell the truth about who I am because… I’m not sure, but I’m willing to bet I’ve been mind controlled to be ashamed about who I am, so I only allude to things most important to me, but usually only very subtly, and rarely.  Most of my days I’ve gone around pretending to be Every Woman, or an old-hippie version of Every Woman.  And I thought this had value, made my writing most accessible to my audience.  This is possibly true, but my writing has also been very limited, sorta of “lowest common denominator” (as I was trained to write as a journalist), and so it’s been least useful.

When I thought I was dying, I gave up “everything,” and I realized later that that also included what others think about me.  What a wonderful thing to finally give up!

It is infinitely more important for me to communicate the truth of who I am, to however small an audience, than to communicate a tepid, easy-to-accept version of me to the “masses.”

And that “safe” presentation is part of keeping me split – keeping the real me hidden (requiring splitting) while the “socially acceptable” part plays a role.  I didn’t realize I was failing so badly at simple Truth, but I was.  It reinforced my splittedness and made me forget my truth.

Second, because I wanted to be and offer something socially acceptable, I forgot what I am:  called to shamanic practice – as we call  it today.  My subconscious decision to hide has made me forget it myself, making me a very irresponsible practitioner, taking “days” off that turned into weeks and months.

I wasn’t afraid that people, at least those I cared about, wouldn’t understand or accept – as most seem to be animists at heart, so they should.  But I thought they would secretly ridicule or denounce me as either too stupid or unworthy, or as someone jumping on a bandwagon – and indeed, I myself have problems with others promoting it like the newest fad, putting it on business cards, etc.  I don’t want others to say about me what I’ve said about others!

Shamanic practice feels too sacred an avocation to speak of.  So when someone asks about one’s vocation, I haven’t known what to say; I kept it a secret, and together with other excuses, it became almost a secret to me.

But this is who I am:  I am one who sees the world in multiple dimensions and seeks (hopefully forever now more consistently) to strengthen my relationships with all my spirit help, and thereby continue my healing to the point where I will be more confident about helping others.

This all became clear only after I’d wallowed for three days in my death wish and gave up everything of this world.  When all was stripped away, I could see who I was and what is most important to me in this world.

It is:  to continue to learn personally about the other realms, develop skills in them, learn to communicate and navigate, learn to bring back information, and learn to help others – what we call shamanism or shamanic practice.  

On and off I’ve been living this life for decades, secretly.  I’ve participated in healings, and they’ve been life-changing for me and others.  I’ve received information from those on the other side.  I’ve gone there and come back.  I know my helpers.  I know my practice.

But there is so much more I need to learn.  And there’s nothing more in this world that I want to do, other than create the setting around me to facilitate this, and then use it to help myself and others.

Three days believing I was dying – it was a difficult, but clarifying time, for which I am grateful.  I now know (again) what is most important to me.  Sometimes we forget.  (The world wants us to forget.)  And sometimes only great pain can help us remember.

Now, I’m happily back in contact – wait, I forgot to confess one more failure.  I subconsciously, for decades, have attributed to my spirit help one characteristic of my parents: that they would love me more the more silent I was and the less I needed them, the less I asked for.  One of my shamanic teachers helped me recognize this ten years ago, but I “forgot”!

So now I’ve remembered and I’ve been spending lots of daily time with my help, asking for whatever I need, and making great progress for just a week.  I have a half-dozen more essays in my head to write, some designing I’ve envisioned, some practices to practice.

powerful sorcerers

Another favorite quote of Don Juan Matus. Mini-poster by Jean Eisenhower. (credit and copy freely)

And I believe we can actually get through this, this crazy world in which Carlos Castaneda’s mentor Don Juan Matus said we need to “change the course of sorcery.”  The current sorcery is mind control, and we need to help change that, especially those of us who can see it so well.  This is our world too.  We have a role to play.

Heart Problems – I assume from Electroshock and Tasering

Just went to the doctor yesterday for blood tests and EKG.  (I don’t follow their prescriptions, but I appreciate their tests.)

My blood work was essentially normal, but my heart is not functioning properly.  I have “stage 1” something (I’ll take better notes when I talk again with her next) – the first chamber of my heart is not beating exactly when it should in relation to the other chambers – not a terrible thing, as she says, many people live long lives with this condition.  It’s just not as effective at circulating blood, so I get tired.

I’ve been having serious heart issues for at least 17 years.  I assume it’s from the mind control electroshocks used to create amnesia and the Tasering (essentially portable electroshock) I’ve obviously been treated to since the late 80s (first time I’m conscious of was in jail after a group act of civil disobedience outside Durango in 1992 – which resulted in amnesia for most of an afternoon, evening, night and next morning), and at least twice in more recent years that left burn marks.

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

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

After this burn (pictured), they seem to have got their settings corrected for my size, as the next one left only two small dots on my arm which I found after waking totally exhausted, knowing “something happened again.”

My heart isn’t beating often enough (just 61 beats per minute) to give me energy for normal activities.  I’m very tired all the time, can’t do the same exercises I used to be able to do at the gym.  And I can’t stand up from squatting down to feed the chickens without holding onto something to pull myself up.  This is very new.  I’ve always been energetic and strong.

In the last 6 months I’ve written in my journals 103 times (out of 189 days) that I was utterly exhausted 52 days (and there may have been days I was too exhausted to write about it).  And I mean debilitatingly exhausted, with comments like:

“Wasted.  Wondering: serious disease?”

“Feel bad with weird symptoms.”

“Deep despair of life, lots of sleep.”

“Wrote bye to all, but lived.”

“Weak, nausea, ringing in ears.”

“Regretting commitments of next weekends.” (and cancelled some)

“No energy for anything.”

“If Greg wasn’t cooking, I wouldn’t eat.”

“Woke with weird bruise and had peed in bed.”

“Tired, depressed, headache.”  (I very rarely get headaches.)

“Can’t sleep, feeling dread.”

“Jaw pain and heart tension.”  (twice)

“Suicidal.”  (four times)

“Could barely walk!  Confused.  Can’t remember last two days!  Greg had to help me remember.”

“Scoop mark on same finger.”

“Woke tired with pee in bed again.”

“Long night, exhausted, weird, bad, crust hanging from my eyes.  Hell.”

And the bruises I’ve photographed!

Wow! Feel and Heal!

healing cropRemember that old saying, “Gotta feel to heal”?

I felt so much yesterday, I could barely see.  It hurt to walk.  I wanted to die.

Today, I feel better and understand quite a few things.

I had just extracted numbers from my journal of the last 6 months and was not surprised to see the huge number of days indicating I was truly exhausted, around half the time, talking about ending my life five times, with bruises

Small bruises on my thighs are the most common - making me think of hypodermic bruises (though I usually don't bruise from shots).  What are they?  Taser marks?

small bruises on my thighs are the most common – making me think of hypodermic bruises (though I usually don’t bruise from shots. What are they? Taser marks?

and marks left on my body, and even more details I’d forgotten about (many of which I wrote about in my last blog).  It was a lot like the time I summarized 18 months and had a melt-down realizing what all had happened.

So I wasn’t surprised to feel terrible.  It seemed a natural response to my life.

But the pain had a good result:  I see some important things.

First, I realize I need to not let 6 months go by without helping myself be aware and dealing with stuff!

What was I thinking?  I think I know:  Trying to stay positive, focused on the Light (ignoring the Dark), in order to stay more easily “functional” in this crazy, numbing world.

Yeah, but that’s not very smart, as I’ve coached others before:  Survival requires we be aware of our environment!

(We teach what we need to learn, right?  So here I am.)

Second thing learned:  To accomplish the goal of being aware, I plan to take one day each week to summarize my journal of the previous seven days (I can handle that), to recognize what are the energies swirling around in my life.

e0abd465f89c59c998d50740e2af2e024263e1a5_800x600Have I ignored some lie (as Pamela Meyer challenges us not to do in the wonderful video I linked to in this blog)?  And in ignoring a lie, has it caused me to lose my strength?

Where are creative juices flowing, or where might they flow?  What do I need?  I’ll make Sunday my day for reviewing my week, since the culture makes that day more available.

Of course, there’s a daily aspect too and I will always do that, but it’s also important to go retrospective now and then for week’s view, or longer view.

I hope and pray Power and Love are flowing in you also today ~




Hit again

thigh bruise copy

huge bruise on my thigh – no explanation

Oh, God, I’ve been hit again.  In the last 6 months, I’ve felt terrible about two weeks of every month, and I felt really bad yesterday: my vision clouded, my joints in pain, my mood so depressed, all I could think was that I didn’t want to live anymore.

Decided to review and collate my journal entries since January 12, 6 months and one week ago:

Days recording severe exhaustion:  52 = over 1/4 of the time, but I know it’s been about half the time.  (Out of approximately 217 days, I only journaled 103).

Miscellaneous, usually attending exhaustion:  extreme irregularity in sleep patterns, long naps even after very long nights, feeling need to “vomit from my soul,” need for “huge cry but can’t,” jaw pain, heart tension, heart arrhythmias, nausea, ringing in ears (which began November 2010 after vibration hit my head and made me unconscious) suddenly extremely loud, thinking I have some terrible disease, burning eyes, vision problems, difficulty sleeping and waking, unusual extended time spent suspended between sleeping and waking, confusion, fearful inability to remember previous days, a new herpes strain (intense with swollen lymph nodes – but no new sexual partner at least while conscious), weird dreams with MK themes (UFOs, large marble buildings, doctors, people in waiting rooms), vision at night that caused me to sit up and stare, feeling myself “switch” alters (thinking “Oh, that’s significant!” then feeling as though I’d been jabbed by a long pin and suddenly was unable to remember what I’d thought significant), and very odd coincidences of people and events in my life.


extremely common – small point-like bruises, always on my thighs – no memory of what might have happened

I took photos of weirdness on my body:  February 4: hypodermic bruise on thigh;

June 8: Huge bruise that appeared on my thigh with no explanation; June 20:  hypodermic bruise on thigh; June 14: photo of area above left scapula, behind shoulder that has felt like it’s been burning since mid-April and still does faintly (above a supposed implant site that appeared last year and has itched since then); June 27:  scoop mark on right finger again (same place as a couple years ago); and another bruise recently.  , which seems to have disappeared from my files.

Five times I wrote “suicidal,” “despairing of life,” or about wishing I could be gone from this life – but I’ve thought it more often than that.

Twice I woke groggily from extremely deep sleep, feeling “like someone did something to me in the night,” and discovering to my shock that I’d peed in the bed.

In the good weeks between, I’ve been as productive as I can be, singing with my partner and our new band, hosting and co-hosting radio shows, gardening, resurfacing our patio, building a fountain (1-min video here), teaching design, blogging, and always cooking fresh wholesome (organic) food, exercising, and keeping the house clean.

I’m sure some would diagnose me as bi-polar or manic-depressive, but I know it’s not that simple – and that would ignore my life history of missing time, amnesia, government connections, and the wealth of similarities in my life to other mind control subjects – all of which is recounted on this series of brief videos:

And I certainly don’t want drugs to try to moderate “my moods” (not moods, but natural and appropriate responses).  I am living a life that should support my own natural/spiritual healing:  I live in a peaceful small town, surrounded by a lovely garden, in a peaceful relationship, in a small, artful home, with my financial needs small, and with healthy daily practices, such as eating the best food, getting exercise, singing, and spending time with friends.

I believe the evidence is clear that I’m suffering, as are many others, from (experimental or operational) intrusions into my life that have side effects.  And it pisses me off.  


Sidney Gottlieb, 80, Dies; Took LSD to C.I.A.

From Fred Burks’ “WantToKnow” email newsletter:

From the 1999-03-10, New York Times…

Fred’s summary of the Times article (the most important summary lines in bold):

Sidney Gottlieb, who presided over the Central Intelligence Agency’s cold-war efforts to control the human mind and provided the agency poisons to kill Fidel Castro, died on Sunday. He … spent his later years caring for dying patients … and fighting lawsuits from survivors of his secret tests. He will always be remembered as the Government chemist who dosed Americans with psychedelics in the name of national security. Mr. Gottlieb joined the C.I.A. in 1951. Two years later, the agency established MKUltra and Mr. Gottlieb was running it. He served two decades as the senior scientist presiding over some of the C.I.A.’s darkest secrets. The first of these were the LSD experiments. Mr. Gottlieb was fascinated by the drug [and] took it hundreds of times. In the 1950’s and early 1960’s, the agency gave mind-altering drugs to hundreds of unsuspecting Americans in an effort to explore the possibilities of controlling human consciousness. In one case, a mental patient in Kentucky was dosed with LSD continuously for 174 days. Other experiments involved agency employees, military officers and college students. In all, the agency conducted 149 separate mind-control experiments, and as many as 25 involved unwitting subjects. At least one participant died, others went mad, and still others suffered psychological damage after participating in the project, known as MK Ultra. The C.I.A. … deliberately destroyed most of the MKUltra records in 1973.Mr. Gottlieb was also involved in the C.I.A.’s assassination plots. [He] developed a poison handkerchief to kill an Iraqi colonel, an array of toxic gifts to be delivered to Fidel Castro, and a poison dart to kill a leftist leader in the Congo.

This, of course, is the conservative New York Times.  Even so, they state, “…others went mad, and still others suffered psychological damage” – which is true of an uncountable number of individuals, myself among them.

Because “The CIA…deliberately destroyed most of the MKULTRA records,” as the CIA Director testified in the 1970s, no victim can prove they were hurt by these programs, and no one can be sought out for help.

Of course, many of the subjects who are still alive may very well be successfully programmed “assets” of the CIA, whom the CIA has no intention of helping heal.




Carol Rutz presentation

ritual abuse logoThis presentation (a transcript here) by Carol Rutz in 2003 gives a good overview of mind control and her hopeful story about her own healing:

This transcript is from a presentation by Carol Rutz at The Sixth Annual Ritual Abuse, Secretive Organizations and Mind Control Conference, August 8 – 10, 2003 at the DoubleTree Hotel in Windsor Locks, CT. Some of the topics discussed may be heavy for survivors. Survivors may want to read this with a support person or therapist. The conference is educational and not intended as therapy or treatment. All accusations are alleged. Our providing the information below does not necessarily constitute our endorsement of it.

This page has been put on the web by S.M.A.R.T., P O Box 1295, Easthampton, MA 01027 E-mail:

Carol Rutz, a survivor of SRA and Government Mind Control experimentation is the author of A Nation Betrayed ( which tells the true story of secret Cold War experiments performed on children. With extensive research and testimony from survivors, she documents experiments by the CIA to create a Manchurian Candidate. Her topic is “Healing from Ritual Abuse and Mind Control.”

Good morning,

I’m so happy to be here today and I would like to thank Neil and the other sponsors of this conference for this opportunity. Please do what you need to protect yourself, if you become overwhelmed during my talk. It you get up and leave, I won’t be offended. A certain amount of triggering information will be presented, not to hurt, but to help.

Two years ago my presentation focused on presenting the proof that cruel mind control experiments were performed on innocent children during the Cold War by the same government who had sworn to protect them. Based on my own personal experience, testimony of other survivors and documentation obtained from declassified material, I was able to validate many survivors’ memories.

When I originally set out to write A Nation Betrayed I had hoped to reach two audiences–the survivor community and professionals who help these survivors such as doctors, therapists, social workers and ministers. I soon found it was very difficult to write to more than one audience but over the last 2 years I found that my dreams have been fulfilled and surpassed.

Hundreds of survivors and professionals have written to me to express their gratitude for this body of work. I usually receive between one and five emails a week. With every letter I received, I continue to be filled with so many emotions.

1. Sadness when I hear another survivor’s story.
2. Empathy in understanding their continuing struggle to free themselves from the bonds their handlers placed around their minds.
3. Joy that I have helped them to feel “Not Alone–Not Crazy.”

1. Gratitude that God has allowed me to reach so many health professionals who in turn are better able to understand their patients and what they have been through.

This brings me to my topic today.The most frequently asked questions I receive from survivors”

1. How did you heal?
2. How did you break thru the programming?
3. Can I ever have a life again?

To answer these questions I am going to give some of the methods and procedures I used to: Show First Slide

1. Survive the memories
2. Revive found alters
3. Break through the programming
4. Integrate
5. Live Normally

I have not talked publicly about my ritual abuse, nor did I devote much of my book to it even though it played an integral part in my becoming dissociative. How does one understand and talk about the horrors of growing up in an intergenerational cult who has joined hands with Illuminati families for their own deviant purposes?

Before my memories returned–before the amnesiac barrier was broken down, I developed a strong spiritual foundation, which contributed greatly to my ability to walk through the darkest memories known to mankind. In addition to being baptized Catholic as a child, I have to admit to two full immersion baptisms as an adult. I seemed to have been always seeking a spiritual belief system that would wash away a horrible blackness I felt inside. As I began remembering the Satanic Rituals I was forced to participate in as a child, I felt for a time that no God could exist and allow these things to happen.

Which brings me to Surviving the Memories.

Most survivors would agree that they had been deprived of normal human relationships during their childhood. It tends to make us isolate, withdraw, and seek only the company of those we know, not those who will help us see what “Normal” really is. It was not until after my father died that some parts of me were set free to begin the healing process. It seemed it was finally safe for me to break away from not only an abusive marriage, but to actually choose a healthy new relationship and begin to feel safe for the first time in my life. I know for certain, that I was so programmed with fear that until I saw my dads’ body in his casket, I couldn’t ever have hoped to have a normal life, let alone recover from the Dissociative Identity that was created by Satanic Ritual Abuse, incest and government experiments.

My memories of SRA began shortly after I found I had “People living inside me.” Anyone who is DID understands what I’m saying. In 1991 after finally feeling safe and cared for for the first time in my life, I began to have flashbacks. They started when I was sitting on my husbands lap and he was kissing my neck. His face suddenly turned into my fathers. I almost threw up every time this occurred and I didn’t understand nor believe what I was experiencing–after all–I was a virgin till I was 18 years old.

AGH!! The first horrible discovery every multiple finds–their whole life was a lie. At least what they thought their life was. How do you accept the lies–the betrayal–the total breakdown in your reality? I knew I was crazy–I had to be.

Intimacy between my husband and I was almost nonexistent from that time on for almost 2 years. I couldn’t stand to be touched once the memories of what was done to me as a child started surfacing. As if incest memories weren’t enough to cope with a new development occurred. I’ll never forget the first time an alter surfaced. I began by having what I thought was a horrible panic attack. A sudden fear came over me and I felt as if my chest was going to explode. As I rode this wave of fear I literally felt my chest explode and my life changed forever. I’m sure the movie Alien with Sigourney Weaver was probably written by someone who was DID because the scene where the ugly alien erupts from that poor persons stomach is exactly how I felt at that moment.

I became a two-year-old little girl. That was the first moment an alter ever felt safe enough to appear and begin to tell what her life was like. Later, I stood next to my son and felt dwarfed by him even though he was only a couple inches taller. When I spoke my voice was not my own, but that of a small child. My God what was happening to me?

From that point on the SRA memories began to surface. I didn’t understand them at all as I didn’t know such things existed. The people I saw in hooded white robes reminded me of the KKK but what they did was beyond anything I ever heard the KKK was responsible for. My grandfather was the “Big Kahuna” of our intergenerational cult. I have traced the word “Big Kahuna,” back to a Polynesian belief system. Oral history tells of a race of beings from another solar system who came to earth and brought with them psychic abilities and huna beliefs. Members of kahuna orders have kept this knowledge alive since that time. The Illuminati family that I was given over to operated with Luciferian beliefs. Balance the good deeds with the bad and it all evened out in the end. Their ceremonies, celebrations, and rituals performed had definite purpose. I’ll explain in a little more detail later on.

I sought professional help. There wasn’t really a choice. It was that or go crazy and drown in a bottomless pit of memories I couldn’t understand. My father had always told me if I ever told I would be locked away in a mental institution, and I believed him. It was horrid to walk into the doctors’ office even though I had been in counseling off and on for several years. None of them had ever gotten close to what was really wrong with me, but then they were never faced with alters who took over the visit and cried out for help.

You know, I think it is hilarious when a doctor asks you if you’ve ever lost time, when that is the purpose of dissociation. You don’t know you’ve lost time, till you begin to become coconscious and that doesn’t happen till you are safe enough to deal with why you became dissociative in the beginning. I was referred to a psychologist who had worked with MPD patients for quite some time. Even so, he didn’t know effective grounding techniques, so I was abreacting almost everything. God we all know how awful abreaction is, even though it is effective at allowing the alters to tell and getting a really accurate picture of what took place. It wasn’t till later that we found a better way.

From the beginning my therapist encouraged me to journal. Throughout the week I allowed my alters to write and draw the details of their abuse. I simply sat down and allowed control to whoever needed to talk. This was the beginning of one of the major things I feel is necessary to heal–Finding a Voice. The other thing it allowed me to do was later Validate my experiences. Many of the cult ceremonies took place at our local zoo.

Show Slide

When I began to draw and talk about them, my doctor turned a little ashen. It was one of three times in 11 years that he said, “I’ve heard that before from someone else about that place.” Wow, talk about validation. When I went to the archives of the public library to find material on the zoo for two particular years, it was missing. Everything was there but those two years. I was disappointed but not surprised. In April of 1993 after two years of SRA memories, I was able to go back to the zoo accompanied by my husband and walk through the places where these rituals had occurred. When I left, it was a victory. We had walked through the fear, “We came, we saw and we conquered.”

I have several more drawings surrounding cult activity, but they are highly triggering. If you are interested you’re welcome to look thru this book later. It has numerous pieces of art work and validation, along with pics of alleged perps.

Finding the Voice that was taken away from you as a child can come in other ways too. Each survivor must find a way to break through the barriers within and reach out to those parts that hold the truth of their lifelong experiences. Some choose to scrapbook, some choose to playact and art therapy is yet another tool that I know some survivors use. Clay, colors, crayons, paint etc, whatever tool can be used to break through the enforced silence that has continued for so many years is effective. In our house children had nothing of interest to say. We had enforced silence at the table during meals, and were only permitted to ask a sibling to pass the food. Beyond silence being enforced, emotions were not encouraged either. Putting on a happy face was the only permissible demeanor in our house. Listen and obey were two of the Ten Commandments. Children were to speak only when spoken to.

In those early days as the bits and pieces of my life were expressed on the pages of my journal I was afraid all of the time–24-7. I was flooded with memories, flashbacks, and nightmares. Fear was my number one major obstacle to overcome before any real work could be done. I found the fear of what I might find was always worse than what I actually did find. I was afraid of remembering and I was afraid not to remember. I was afraid the cult would somehow know I was talking and send someone to exterminate me. I was afraid the memories were really true. I was afraid I was a liar and for some reason making it all up. I eventually came to accept and know that no matter what; I had already lived through the worst. Remembering, understanding, feeling and incorporating those experiences was the pathway I walked to slowly integrate my alters.

Early on multiples are not willing to accept it happened to them–we know it happened to others living inside, but not to us. People would say–“Carol, don’t you understand that if it happened to those people inside you that it happened to you since there a part of you?”

No we don’t and can’t accept that reality until we have emotionally accepted everything that statement entails. I use to collect dolls to represent my alters. It was a way of keeping them separate and apart from me. I didn’t understand that at the time, but it served a purpose to allow the pain to be tolerable until we were ready to really accept it all in totality and what that meant to the life we thought we lived. I also painted and drew pictures of my alters, because they always presented with names and faces.

Show 2 slides

Fear consumed me until I finally let go and allowed the details of my life to flow from my mind to the paper and then in therapy through my mouth. I found that letting my alters finally have a voice and speak the truth was the only way through the fear. My doctor kept reminding me, that telling and making a record of it made me safer. He would remind me if I let people know that I kept this record in a safe place, it was like having insurance. Unlike the lies all my abusers had imbedded in my mind, I found it was safer to have names, dates, and events transcribed. Who would want to take the chance of hurting me when they didn’t know if all their dirty little secrets were tucked safely away in my safety deposit box? This proved to be a huge safety net to me and as time went on, I really knew and believed that they were all liars. Every threat they had told me, every lie they uttered proved to be just that. Of course along with remembering comes all the pain, which is a necessary part of healing. Really understanding, feeling, absorbing and sharing the whole picture of betrayal and horror leads to integration and freedom.

My alters found painting and drawing to be a perfect expression for getting scenes recorded– peoples faces, places, buildings, ceremonies. I never knew what was going to be painted or drawn, I just gave my alters free reign. Years later when I actually was able to match real people and places with these, the validation was overwhelmingly powerful and helped me to understand what truly happened to me. That is what we all search for isn’t it? Validation? How can I know this is real? How can I prove this really happened?

More examples with 8 slides

Slide one- I was to undergo sensory deprivation in a box after being given a shot of curare before these procedures you see depicted took place. I believe the mountain drawing is of Mount Royal in Montreal, behind the Montreal Neurological Institute on McGill campus. The reason I show this drawing and actual picture is to show how a mind retains information even through extreme trauma.

Next slide- this is stereotaxic surgery being performed by I allege Dr. Wilder Penfield in Montreal Canada. He inserted electrodes into sleeve guides and probed my brain while someone in the room recorded what was being said. He said my brain was like a tape recorder and he just needed to take me back in time. He did this by touching different spots in my brain. They kept recording the memories induced from images in my past and later Sid Gottlieb of the CIA used them for future programming sessions.

Recently I discovered that the Soviets during the 60’s and the 70’s found that by passing a low voltage current from the front of the brain to the back, they could drop their remote viewers into the Delta State. Using this artificial means they found Delta to be the doorway to telepathic influencing, telekinesis and remote killing.

That may account for the remark I recall Dr. Penfield make, “Given Enough time and enough bodies, I can find the Doorway to the Soul.”

It was important in the early stages of recovery, before there was validation to set up a contract with my therapist against self-harm. I had to “Survive the Memories” before I could revive and integrate the alters I was finding. Because of the profound sense of Betrayal I felt and the programs that had been installed to suicide if I began to tell, I agreed to have some part call our therapist or tell a trusted individual when these urges emerged. I only ever called my therp at home twice in 12 years of therapy, but I could call the office and schedule an emergency session ahead of time to deal with these urges.

I found in order to heal, I had to own the Betrayal and every time I attempted to do it, I just wanted to give up–it was just too painful. I lived in spite of myself. Sometimes the only thing that kept me alive was the fact that everyone else kept reminding me that “They would win.” I was just stubborn enough to never allow that to happen.

My alters found their voice and began trusting my therapist to guide us through the grief of a lost childhood. What started as a mind that looked like a bunch of puzzle pieces in the early stage of recovery, began to form a border with the first three child alters. At times the incest and ritual abuse memories felt like sharp shards of glass that couldn’t be contained. Over time we learned to take that glass and allow the fiery pain to forge a beautiful canvass of our own making–one that would contain the reality of a whole person.

Assimilating and owning those experiences in order to integrate was the hardest battle we had ever fought, but we found we weren’t alone anymore. As parts were believed and self nurtured a new world opened before us. My husband and sister nurtured and held child parts and allowed them to come out and talk. They listened!! They believed!! They loved us in a healthy way. We got special presents; children’s books were read to us. I know we were very, very blessed to have people in our life that knew how to love in a healthy way. Allowing playtime for young alters such as riding the tractor, playing with a dollhouse or cuddling with stuffed animals helped too. Eating ice cream, listening to wind chimes–all those firsts were a glorious adventure once we told.

So to recap, once you find a way to survive the memories you can set about reviving the alters and set up communication so that you become coconscious. Coconsciousness is essential for safety issues as well as assimilating the material you are remembering. If you can eliminate lost time, you eliminate the power that others still may have to manipulate you and your alters. Identifying triggers is also important for safety. Many handlers set up hand signals, knocks on walls in a certain rhythm, phone ringing in certain rhythm, and words for triggering an alter to the front. For instance and easy way to get me to be a vacant mindless person was to say, “Knock, Knock.” That was installed to bring and alter to the front by the name of “Nobody’s Home.” So often in my life when I experienced trauma that was not Gov’t related, my alter Nobody’s Home would come out. You can see how easy it was for them to access and use their targets. After an operation, when they wanted to send an alter under, they would say “Rest In Peace.” This was whoever was out’s signal to go under. They would call each of our alters out by using the word “Blue” teamed with another word, such as Blue Velvet, Blue Danube, Bluebird, Blue Bayou, etc. Such simple powerful words, but until you realize how they used these to control you, they reek havoc on your system.

As I said earlier, in the beginning I was doing nothing but abreacting. I would find myself in my mind in a room looking at a closed door. After opening the door for the first time I always knew I would find a traumatic scene from my past, generally where a new alter had been created.

When I left the therapists office I would have to put what I had been working on away, so that I could effectively live during the week without being bombarded by the new material. I created an internal safe place to put the memories that we worked on in each session so that I would not be flooded in between. It was a toy box and I would set a stuffed animal on top before I left the office. During the week we would journal or not, which ever felt safe, and then let the memories back out of the toy box again in therapy the following week. This was different from the safe place my alters eventually built to go to for healing.

Later after my therapist had attended a seminar we began using grounding techniques so that while I was remembering I could also remain in the present. This was much less painful and traumatic to the system and every bit as effective as pure abreaction. My grounding technique was really simple. I taught myself that when I would begin to abreact and lose total control, I would grab the arm of the chair and bring myself back to the awareness of where I was. That insured that I was still in the present, and this happened in the past and did not have the power to hurt me anymore.

Some survivors use EMDR successfully for memory retrieval. My doctor noticed I was doing EMDR naturally during our therapy appointments. Instead of following a finger from side to side or hearing music alternately in each ear, my eyes moved from right to left, back and forth very quickly whenever I would start to remember. I think this happened because when I was experimented on I had a set of headphones on where I would hear different messages at the same time thru each ear.

Show Slide

Top Left Picture is a Positron Emitter Detector, circa 1962. It is an early version of the PET scan now in use. The PET scan produces images of how living brain cells work collectively to retrieve memories and form words–in short the physics of thinking. Bottom left picture is a Positron Emitter Detector from Brookhaven, 1965.

My drawing shows how each alter was being programmed. Detectable energy flashes were being picked up and a recording was made assuring the doctors that they indeed were working with different parts of my personality, separate and apart from the me that they would eventually reawaken.

During the 1980’s, Stargate a remote viewing project was done at Ft. Meade, using binoral beat tones that changed the brain waves through earphones. A hemi-sync device that played two different frequencies into each ear was found to produce altered states of consciousness. Perhaps the technology they used was derived from these experiments done in the 60’s on people like me and others in this room.

Lower right is a portable ect unit which many of us became intimately acquainted with.

I also did a double appointment. 45 minutes was never enough for me to accomplish what was needed. I would just be getting rolling when it was time to reground and wrap up. I hated those early sessions where I would walk out of the office and a child part would get behind the wheel, or we couldn’t even find our way to the car or we would cry all the way home. 1-½ hours turned out to be perfect. Towards the end of therapy I was commuting almost four hours, so going every other week for a double session helped tremendously.

The same visualization that was used by perps for programming enabled us to undo that programming. We created a healing place inside where anyone who chose to could go and rest and get help from other alters in healing. I found parts that couldn’t speak because of programming or being preverbal and a helper alter would agree to be used for the memory retrieval work. That part would remain grounded so that the emotional impact was not so overwhelming. I believe this is really important and could cause system wide shut down if we attempt to handle too much at one time. Betrayal, shame, and fear were powerful tools used against us.

Slowly I began to reclaim the power that was taken from me as a child. I learned that the humiliation, guilt, and degradation they heaped on my shoulders was theirs–not mine. I was able to separate the lies from the truth.

My father had tried to systematically destroy my free will by controlling my mind from infancy through adulthood. He was totally narcissistic–self absorbed and tried to possess everything and everyone, never feeling guilt. He was only interested in his personal wants, desires and needs being met, never acknowledging the harm he was inflicting on others. Even as an adult he would use triggers on me so that I would switch into whatever alter he desired whether it be for a cult ritual or for his sexual pleasure. For instance, he would put his hand into his pocket and pull out a diaphragm and say, “Remember what this is for?” I would immediately switch. BTW, it was my mother’s diaphragm.

Owning the truth of all this was devastating in the beginning, and freeing in the end. We saw ourself as a beautiful vase with a flower before the trauma. As we relived each trauma that made us split it was as if a giant hammer came down splintering the vase into a thousand pieces. As we put the vase back together through integration, we found the flower in the vase–“Our Soul” was never truly damaged. They never got to the soul of our being.

Integration means owning. I remember the first time I ever owned the incest. I was standing in the grocery store and I ran into a lady I knew casually whose father had just passed away. I told her how sorry I was, and then she asked me if my dad was still living. I told her “No he’s been dead since 1979.” She said how sorry she was and in reply I said, “No I’m glad he’s dead, I’m sure he’s rotting in hell. He was a baby raper!! He molested me from the time I was a baby.” Well, if the poor woman would have had dentures, I’m sure they would have fallen out. She quickly made her exit, and I can’t tell you how good that felt. That was the first time other than to family and my therapist, that I had admitted publicly what had happened to me. I didn’t feel shame or guilt. I put it on the person who deserved it. Wow, I knew I was healing. Over time I even lost the hatred I felt for him. I never set out to stop hating. It just happened as I healed and put the entire picture together. I could see what type of life he had lived as a child, and I never stopped hating what he had done, but his hold on my mind was loosened when the hating stopped.

Another truly wonderful validation occurred when I shared with my aunt about the incest. She was mortified to say the least, but she shared what I told her with my cousins. One of them called me and we got together and found out each had been carrying their own secrets around in our hearts thinking we were alone. By my opening up, it allowed all this to come out in the open–out of the shadows of darkness and into the light. I found that one male cousin in particular incested at least five of my female and male cousins. God, it was awful to see what legacy my family of birth had passed on. A huge healing has taken place for a lot of them too in their personal relationships and the validation for all of us was priceless. One cousin wrote to me and said, “Carol, it is because of you sharing the burden that you carried for so long that our family is starting to heal. It puts in perspective so many things for our family. It has helped me to continue in my growth process. Because of what you told my mom we are now learning what a healthy family is.”

I personally did not start breaking through the government programming until I had brought a lot of stability into my life, where I was moving from focusing on the trauma all the time to focusing on the healing and living in the here and now. I learned to stay grounded and centered and leave the old coping techniques of dissociation behind.

When I began to find the alters who had been programmed and experimented on by Sid Gottlieb, Allen Dulles, Ewen Cameron, Wilder Penfield and others I began a brand new journey. My book details that journey. Personal validation of my memories of this journey again came from my drawings and paintings and of course a lot of declassified documents. All the programming that was done to me by the CIA and Illuminati was Trauma based using things like electroshock, sensory deprivation, and drugs. Later the trauma wasn’t necessary, only hypnosis accomplished with implanted triggers and occasional tune-ups that took place at Wright Patterson Air Force Base not far from my home.

One of the first programs I dealt with was “No Talk” programming. I had a flashback of this while sitting in the dentist chair. The light they pull down and use to look in your mouth triggered it. Sid Gottlieb was standing behind a light several feet from us and grinning. It is the type of light they use for Morse code. It looked like metal Venetian blinds and it was being opened and closed, allowing a blinding light to flash alternately off and on in our eyes. When the light was on someone said, “Talk,” then as the light switched off, they said “Don’t Talk.” This was repeated over and over. When they used this in practical situations, all they had to do was switch a flashlight on and off in front of my face.


A lot of my programming revolved around the Wizard of Oz. The hourglass was used in the event I would begin to remember and talk. They would tell us that if we talked the hourglasses sand would begin to run and when it was all run out we must do ourself in. We turned the hourglass on its side so it could no longer be used to threaten us. I was also told my head would explode. When I ran into this the first time, I was driving home from therapy. My head not only felt like it was going to explode; I saw a gigantic bomb with a lit fuse. I decided that I had used visualization for helping to heal other alters and since the programming they did was done with creative visualization, I should be able to undo it in the same way. I took my fingers and snuffed the wick out–it was that simple. Knowing their lies made it so much easier to dismantle the programming. These are just a few examples of creative visualization.

Another affective visualization that the system used to short circuit programming was when I found there were hidden parts. We took a giant eraser and internally started erasing all the lines to the boxes and triangles inside of us. We saw people coming out on stretchers, with bandages and others internally were carrying them on cots to the healing place.

When I was having trouble even getting close to memories we found booby traps and land mines surrounding them, so that every time we got close we couldn’t get past these. We visualized a giant pacman in our blood stream. He was sent on a search and destroy mission for any programs that were implanted and dangerous. When pacman was through destroying these he yelled, “Mission Accomplished.” Our progress after this was remarkable.

Show Slide

When I found the infinity sign or number eight on its side had been used to separate two lands in my body where alters were held, I set about to free them.  One side of my body contained Neverland and the other side contained Shadow land.  My baby alter, who was preverbal was stuck in Neverland where she never grew up.  Sid Gottlieb used
to bottle feed and hold this part and bonded this part to him this way setting up an internal dichotomy where we thought we depended on him for nourishment–food, drink, love etc.  Baby and the alter that was sent to Shadowland were told they would have eternal life if the alter in Shadowland carried out the missions he was given.  This part had psychic abilities and was trained to use the “Red Fire” to cause strokes & aneurysms in “targets.”  Anyways as you can see one land held the baby and another the alter with the “violence.”  The programmers had codes to access the baby part, and you had to go through in that order, Baby first than the codes to access the alter who used the red fire.  It was a brilliant system to be sure as the Baby was totally hooked using “Maslows Theory” to these programmers and if the body was caught their was no way they would ever get to the part that was used for missions.  The infinity symbol was drawn on a black board and reinforced repeatedly through hypnosis until all the systems were locked down tight.  I hope this makes sense. It took a longtime and a good deal of work, to find this and break free, since even after the alters found out the truth they did not want to leave their lands right away where they felt safe and come to the safe place in my system.  After some internal communication the baby was rescued from Neverland. Alters simply created a bridge and crossed from there to Shadowland. Our baby part was nurtured by our alter who was trained for killing, so it was very beneficial to both those alters. The door to Neverland was burned and holes were shot in the ceiling of Shadowland to let light through. It was patterned after a tunnel I was in at 16 where I did a psychic demo. Anyways, eventually everyone felt safe enough so that an elevator was built to the healing place and Shadowland was destroyed too.

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This drawing completely mystified me until I read a news article about an implant that amplifies brain signals, which are then transmitted to a laptop computer through an antenna-like electronic coil on the head. Researchers at Emory University implanted a tiny implant, the size of the tip of a ballpoint pen into a patients brain which allowed the patient to express his thoughts with words, through the uses of a voice synthesizer.

Many of the experiments performed on me were done to heighten and use ESP, Remote Viewing, and the energy of the mind.

If you think this psychic killing sounds far fetched you may be interested to know that back in the Sixties, the Soviet Union began to pour money and resources into the study of ESP and psycho kinesis, phenomena collectively termed “psi” by researchers in the field. Much of this psi research came under the control of the Soviet military and KGB. They also screened Red Army recruits for psychic abilities, and pumped talented subjects full of dangerous drugs to promote psi-conducive altered states. Subjects in psycho kinesis or “remote-influencing” experiments tried to stop the hearts of small
animals, or concentrated on foreign political leaders, beaming at them “negative psi

Soviet and Czech scientists were said to be working on electromagnetic devices that would cause strokes or heart attacks, and it was even rumored that they had perfected a “psychotronic generator”, which could scramble people’s minds at great distances.

An unclassified 1972 Defense Intelligence Agency report expressed concerns that “Soviet efforts in the field of psi research, sooner or later, might enable them to do some of the following,”

1. Know the contents of top secret US documents, the movements of our troops and ships and the location and nature of our military installations
2. Mould the thoughts of key US military and civilian leaders at a distance
3. Cause the instant death of any US official at a distance
4. Disable, at a distance, US military equipment of all types, including spacecraft.”

All I can say is that we may not have all the declassified documents on what the U.S was working on, but we can be sure they were doing tit for tat what their Russian counterparts were, only a lot of it was being done on small children.

Creating a timeline was extremely helpful in my healing after I had been at therapy for a number of years. I took a storyboard that was folded in three parts. I used one color sticky notes for SRA alters, a different color for government alters and the last was myself at different ages for instance grade school and what age I was in each grade. By combining the years of rituals and experiments with where I was in school and what was going on in my life, I finally got a true picture of what happened and when. Was it hard–most assuredly. Was it one of the biggest steps in my ability to own and integrate many parts–absolutely!

I don’t believe there is only one way to deprogram. There is no right or wrong way. What is effective for one may be totally unworkable for someone else. I believe the key to deprogramming is Internal dialogue. Integration is desirable by some people and not others. That is a choice each individual makes. My integration of parts has always come naturally. No big ceremonies, just when the work was done, and the system knew we weren’t losing anything it came naturally. Am I totally integrated? No. Will I be? I don’t know. I’m high functioning without losing time. Today I can make choices for myself based on knowledge. I have boundaries and balance. I try to not let my past overwhelm me. Some days I choose advocacy and work at exposing the evil. Others I choose to just live and love and try to bring some sunshine to my corner of the universe. They took our choices away. I like having mine back.

I encourage each of you to find your voice. I believe it is your road to freedom. In closing I want to share with you something from my journal.

If you feel comfortable, I encourage you to close your eyes while you listen.

Today we allow ourselves to be led to the edge of the brook. We step into the water to wash away some of the pain of the past. We relish in the way the water nips at our chin and caresses our mind. Melodies of times past forge across our brain, and the music becomes softer and smoother as we listen. The torrent of horror is moving gently to the place in our mind where it can be woven back into notes that will make up a grand symphony. The individual orchestra players will soon no longer be heard performing their duets. Instead they will blend together–and the sounds that arise will be gentler, warmer, stronger, and more fluid. The conductor of the new piece will at times remember the individual notes played by each instrument, but only by combining them all together will this grand symphony of strength and courage fill the corridors of our mind and give us peace.

Thank You

This was taken from the site,  “Ritual Abuse” is an earlier name for Mind Control.  The original link:

Mind Control History and Politics Documented

Declassified government documents leave no doubt that mind controlled spies who don’t even know they are spies have played a key hidden role in the development of our world in recent decades.  Mind control has also been used to help people heal haunting past traumas and achieve mental states far more expanded than our normal waking consciousness.

“If we want to be effective agents of transformation, it is vitally important that we are informed of both the beneficial and the harmful aspects of this powerful technology.”

For more, read here:


The website above provides an excellent source of credible documentation on a number of subjects not covered significantly (though occasionally) by the mainstream media.

Best Film! “Human Resources” by Metanoia Films

human_resources_filmThis is the best film I’ve seen in a long time – and it covers the most important subject to America and the world today (which happens to be my own personal most important subject):

“Brilliant…  Riveting…  The amount of material the filmmaker covers and unifies is astounding…  Human Resources diagnoses the 20th century.”

– Stephen Soldz, Professor, Boston Graduate School of Psychoanalysis; President, Psychologists for Social Responsibility

At the beginning, I thought it was a little slow, and my partner was thinking he wasn’t in the mood for it, but we were both soon swept up in the film and at the end highly impressed (even though I “already know” all this stuff), and we plan to watch it again soon.

Can’t recommend it highly enough.

THANK YOU for watching it.  We all increase our spiritual and physical survival when we know the nature of our world.

(Oh, yes, and this site – – has six other films that all look excellent, one we’ve seen and will also watch again.)

Peace and healing to all.


Repost: The Great Human Delusion: All Parents Love their Children

Despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary, there is a widespread belief that all parents love their children. This is not so. Many parents are so badly emotionally damaged as a result of their own childhood experience that they are not capable of loving their children. Moreover, the fear, self-hatred and powerlessness that characterize most humans means that parental violence against children is chronic even if one or both parents are capable of love.

Evolution’s great trick was to connect reproduction with intense but transitory sexual pleasure, not love. Couples may engage in sex as a result of love for each other and possibly the desire to create and care for a child. But many children are conceived outside the loving long-term relationship necessary to nurture a child and even those children who are conceived within this framework will routinely suffer parental violence. And without genuine communities, as occurs in tribal situations, modern nuclear families leave children isolated from the readily available emotional support options that a more closeknit community would offer.

to read more:

Medical Directive

Perhaps something like this might work for others too.
Feel free to copy and share.

This document is to direct

my medical care

in the event I

am unable to speak

for myself.

I, Jean Ann Eisenhower, being of sound mind, hereby assert that God and I myself are my primary healers, along with food, herbs, prayer, and angelic help.

The American medical establishment has wounded me horrendously and repeatedly throughout my life, as a subject of childhood and probably ongoing mind control experimentation, so that my objection to their care is not simply philosophical, but is based on personal experience.  Therefore, I state with force my wish to have all persons who might have anything to do with my healthcare decisions to act so that I will not be further made vulnerable to suffer at their hands.

In the event I am ever unable to speak for myself and need medical care, I ask all involved to consult as many of my friends as are possible to select some number of herbalists and shamans as they think appropriate to oversee my care.

If an “establishment” medical professional is deemed necessary, his or her care must be in my home or the home of a friend or even outdoors, but never inside any hospital or AMA- or ADA-affiliated clinic, unless I am awake and of sound mind and able to state this clearly.  If it is deemed that I will die if I don’t enter a hospital or AMA- or ADA-affiliated clinic, then I choose to die.

I request painkilling medicines, which may be provided at my home or otherwise outside a hospital or clinic.

These wishes are not to be circumvented by anyone without it being understood by all that:

1) my hospitalization should be considered a kidnapping with probable other crimes associated,

2) I should be rescued, and

3) those responsible should be arrested and investigated for torture.

Sworn by all things holy,

Jean Ann Eisenhower

April 27, 2014