FORTY YEARS AGO TODAY, written May 1, 2019 to my children Emily and Max

FORTY YEARS AGO TODAY, I MARRIED YOUR FATHER

May 1, 2019

To my children Emily and Max,

Forty years ago today, I married your father.

I was pregnant with you, Emily, and you were conceived on March 5th, 1979, when I drove back from Tampa, Florida, where my mother had moved to after selling our home, 202 Shadynook Court, fleeing the heritage of debauchery in her life, and seeing the product of my father’s adultery living right across the street: my half-brother, Michael Dayball.

Father had been having an affair with Gail Guinn since I was five years old, he and Mother both ‘swingers’ in the scene in the Sixties. Emily, you ended up accepting their child, conceived through artificial means – Gail always resented that I conceived you naturally, and before she succeeded with in vitro, which cost them a lot – John Rohrer, and are friends with him on Facebook, or were, last I was privy to your fb profile before you chose to shun me.

Mother – Nana to you – sold the house, put her Dodge Dart on a train car and she and “the boys” took a sleeper car to Florida. I drove my Volkswagen there, and met them at the house. It was a rancher, with huge Palmetto cockroaches that leapt at me, and the boys were beside themselves with grief, especially David, who was like an animal more than a child, all anger and confusion. Charlie was crying and Jay was quiet; numb. Mother was on autopilot, I think. I was revolted. I drove around the area, trying to see where I could work, and saw that the city of Tampa was a shithole. It was awful. The boys were out of control, there was no plan: it would not work. She (mother) had already sabotaged my attempts at going to college, more than once (this is why I worked so hard, taking on $8,000.00 in student loans bundle into mine, to let you go to Wilson, so you could have the college experience I was denied by both parents). I had been accepted to University of South Alabama, in Mobile, where my best friend Kathy Park went, and took a Greyhound bus there to begin in the Spring Semester in January 1979, but Mother did not do any of the financial aid paperwork, and did not tell me she ignored it, in fact, she let me think she had done it all. I got there and at registration was told I couldn’t, that neither she nor Father filled anything out. I had to go home. I had spent all I had to get there, paying for the one-way bus ticket myself. I called mother, who said she didn’t have any money to pay for the ticket, and screamed hysterically “Get home and take care of these boys!” I called father, who coldly told me he had no money for a ticket, and I could hear Gail listening on the other extension (her bedroom Bell Princess phone). I had to go door-to-door in my friend Kathy’s dorm, borrowing change, or a few dollars, to get the bus ticket, which was only $33.00. Yet my parents said they didn’t have it. It took me months to pay it back once I got back “home”, working in a sub shop in Security Mall, walking there with only sole less Indian moccasins, mother would not drive me to work, the Volkswagen was uninsured at the time, and it snowed a lot, huge blizzards. I had pneumonia but still worked. And the previous time my college attempt was sabotaged was in high school, when I was trying to get into the University of Colorado to study veterinary medicine. Mother refused to fill out any applications. In twelfth grade I was recruited by the CIA five times. I refused them. I worked at Lexington Market, Westview Mall, Security Mall, and at the Green Earth health food store on Charles Street, from high school until the early 80’s. I worked three part-time jobs in twelfth grade alone. (I worked so much, not getting child support, that I filled the forty work quarters Social Security requires filled in order to retire at age 65 by age 31. If that says anything, i.e. no familial support.)

Then I tried living at Uncle Clarence and Uncle Homer’s farm, and went one semester to Saint Mary’s College. But it was a 70-mile round trip, I became very depressed, and Uncle Clarence wanted me to marry the Baptist preacher’s son to inherit the farm. Jay and Charlie were like lost souls. Mother paid attention only to David. I was driving back and forth to Baltimore on the weekends to try to keep the family glued together. It was awful. Even though I had my horse Sunny, that was not enough. I could not save my family. I left the college, and came back to Catonsville. Charlie had taken over my bedroom. It was January 1979. Mother was preparing to sell the house and move to Tampa. That is how it all unfolded once I graduated in May 1977, and was first with your uncle Jon, but was really in love with your dad Jamie, who I saw from the school bus window at the end of the day in 10th grade, walking my church friend Celeste Reis, who sang like Joni Mitchell and whose mother, a chain smoker, was an organist for the adult choir at my church, Salem Lutheran. Jamie was on her left (of course, because he was deaf in his left ear, and had fifty percent hearing in his right, from ear infections, as Mamaux had told me). Your dad was wearing a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, his braid down the back past his belted jeans, and combat boots. He held Celeste’s arm deferentially; gently, and seemed to be listening to her with rapt attention. I was fifteen, and my heart leapt in my chest. My life as mother’s slave went on, defending and nurturing my brothers, her Cinderella, and I was in the Forever Family cult. In the fall of twelfth grade, your uncle Jon walked by me as I stood in the doorway of the Don Flowers plant store (I was standing in right side of the doorway waiting for the mall to close), one of three stores I worked at in Westview Mall (the other two were KB Toys and The Gap, all while in twelfth grade, and keeping up my GPA as well as taking care of the boys and the house – and turning the CIA down), and I spoke to him, we went for a drive in my car – an MG Midget I had bought new, I worked so much – and we “dated”, but really, I was in love with your dad Jamie.

And so eventually he fell in love with me. When he was 14, 15, he had been in a relationship with a girl named Paige in Hyattsville, and, also, I know now, was involved with Janet, which is incest. I hate to tell you, but the Littles were in a sex ring of pedophilia, and Pop – your grandfather Jim Little – was run out of his job at Fort Meade as chaplain, and he and a Baptist minister, and then charismatic church christians at Saint Timothy’s in Catonsville traded Janet and Jamie as sex slaves. They were sent to a dungeon house club in Hyattsville and the guy – his name is Ed, and I forget the last name, but it’s not Simoncek (though that Ed, another Catonsvillian, older than me, might know it) – also had one in Florida. During the period of time I described above, when I went to Uncle Homer and Clarence’s farm, Jamie and Janet went to that bondage and domination pedophile’s place in Florida, and that is where Janet got her skin condition and your dad his foot rot. Janet was already sterile, from STD infections as far back as age twelve. She was twelve when Jim took her virginity. She told me that when I was 17, she 18, and I was seeing Jon.

That is how it all transpired. I am writing everything I remember.

Everything needs its backstory for present-day clarification, and that is why I begin with this. I did not know about the pedophilia ring until this past December (2018), when I ran into one of the participants who wife-swapped with Pop, Larry Frank. He thought I knew about all of this. I didn’t. I do now. Now you both do. No wonder the Littles never wanted me to have you, Emily, and when I did, never wanted Jamie and I to be married. No wonder they aided and abetted him not paying for your child support. And no wonder they were more accepting of Levigh and Madison. Levigh and her mother were prostitutes. Julie, David and then Brenda believed the lies they were told, the whitewashing of facts. Janet went into an abusive relationship and married Bill Jamison, an alcoholic Vietnam vet point man who survived three tours of duty and beat her senselessly. She always had a black eye and lost many teeth because of him. Jamie was half crazy, and so was Jon, because of all they knew, did, or witnessed (I think Jon witnessed more than did, being younger).

Christianity was a front for child sex trade, and the Littles and their friends; the Meischeid’s, the Wicker’s (who bought the 4 acres of 100 Bishops Lane and developed it, the last agriculturally zoned farmland in Catonsville – THEY SHOULD HAVE GIVEN IT TO JAMIE AND I, WE WORKED SO HARD ON IT, but no, Janet ensured the house was condemned, angry that I kept Big there, after Jamie and I cleared the entire woods to become pasture. There were other people as well, the Roloff’s, and at least four other couples whose names I forget. There was Gavin and Lynette, who slept with Pop and Jamie and Larry Frank all in the same span of time (before Jamie went to Florida to work for Ed the B & D pedo sexring guy). I know that Jamie and Janet went to Florida with Charlie Watt of the Rolling Stones, as “toys”, when Jamie was 12 and Janet 13. That connection helped Janet and Jamie become acid and pot dealers in Hyattsville, and they sold to the University of Maryland crowd. One of your aunt Janet’s – her nickname was “Chicken Little” – ‘lovers’ was the author (Bonfire of the Vanities) Tom Wolfe’s son, who dressed in white suits like his father, and looked exactly like him, I was in his company with her at least two or three times in 1977-1978. She also had a much-older black boyfriend named Mark Puryear, who lived in Washington DC too, and traveled with Tom Wolfe Jr.

I did not know the impact or meaning of any of this when your dad and I became two young people who loved each other.

I was a hard-working, overly idealistic devoutly christian girl who was seeking stability after being treated like crap and sabotaged by both of her parents. I had an eating disorder and distorted body image, and a great deal of shaming and rejection internalized by parents who actively hurt me since birth. I believed that I could make a better life for myself – and you, Emily, and Jamie, you and I as a family, because I saw the good in him and responded to it – I fell in love with Jamie as if a spell was cast on me – and maybe it was. And because I felt such strong convictions, which incidentally had kept me and my brothers alive, surviving my parents, my mother and Mr. John, saving her from suicide soon after she began her relationship with Mr. John (the suicide attempt – I averted her success – was a clairvoyance I had had at 11) and saving myself and my brothers from when Mr. John drugged me and set the house on fire and left it, I realize now, based on what went on then – and I have a perfect memory – that my own mother and Mr. John had planned to kill us and collect life insurance. Mother and Mr. John were into drugs. They “swang’. He was a pimp in Baltimore City with a forged Baltimore City Police Detective Badge, my best friend Susie Cullom’s father, who worked as an engineer at Westinghouse told me after the arson and murder attempt mother and Mr. John did, that he was not really a detective at all, but ran a prostitution ring. He made mother trade the beautiful station wagon inherited when my grandfather Rohrer died in for a pale mint cream green four door Cadillac DeVille (his, which he had when they met, was baby blue, same, both with white leather interiors). As a matter of fact, when Mr. John came over the first time in late September of sixth grade, as soon as I met him I told mother not to go out with him. All I said was “He is a bad man, make him leave here.”  They did BAD THINGS, and so did the Littles. But I was too naive to realize this. Because I had such fealty to my role as daughter and sister, then wife (of your dad), I really did not know what reality was. I knew that I had been abused, and when I had tried to tell the pastor, school teachers, the school nurse, even the police the times I called (until I stopped calling, because the punishments for standing up to my mother, father and stepfather were so severe, and being threatened to be sent away and never see my brothers again), nothing was ever done.

Like so many families, our bloodlines are farmed for trauma. You may not know what I am even trying to convey here. It is called MKUltra, satanic ritual abuse. The religious people are all hypocrites, and in on it.

I was demonized, and am demonized by you both still, because of the depth and complexity of the web of lies.

So it’s now forty years to the day, my adult children Emily and Max, residents of the Virginia Commonwealth and slaves of the cabal, that your father and I married. On May Day. How absurdly fitting for the numerology of Pagan ritual human sacrifice (in the guise of fertility).

On the third day of being in Tampa (I almost feel like I am describing raising from the dead, and maybe, in a way, I am), I simply could not see myself staying there, and could not help my brothers, and mother was a screaming banshee, so I got in my Volkswagen and drove non-stop for eighteen hours from Tampa to the Bishops Lane house, and went with your dad to Tiffany’s Sub Shop (where I then worked until visibly pregnant with you), and back to his room, called “the library room”, which was at the western end on the third floor, had a working fireplace, and six huge windows, some of which were missing glass. Your dad had a mattress on the floor covered with old wool (many were Harris Tweed) coats, and it was like a nest. I sat in the rocking chair, and he sat on a trunk, and we talked. At some point, Jamie stood up, pushed the rocking chair backwards onto the bed, and it broke under us, and we made you, Emily. March 5, 1979.

Jim and Mary (a Dann – read If you are one of the elect, you have purer genes – the Tribe Of Dann / DaNaan, restored blogpost copy before she married Jim), who you call Mamaux and Pop, didn’t want me there, but my father wouldn’t let me live at his house. Gail wanted us four children he had with Mother to disappear. I did not know then that Gail (and he) had been trying to get pregnant – not his problem, as my father sired at least five children, including my half-brother Michael Dayball) – and I quickly started working at Tiffany’s Sub Shop, but then got a day position at Lexington Market, downtown. Your dad worked under the table with Pop for all the other pedo names I mentioned, and so my working days downtown as opposed to evenings at Tiffany’s was better for us. One morning a few weeks later, while brushing my teeth before work, the toothpaste made me nauseated, and I threw up. It was weird, because I had brushed my teeth, pulled out of the semi-circular driveway, and at the stop sign there at the corner to turn left toward the elementary school and Frederick Road, suddenly bile came up into my throat and I had to open the car door and vomit. I immediately realized that I should have begun my period, and that this was morning sickness, when it happened the next day, which was a Saturday, Jamie and I went and bought a pregnancy test, and it was positive. Like the fool I was, trusting everyone I thought was a friend, I told your aunt Julie, asking her to promise not to tell her parents. Jamie and I wanted to tell them after they came home from church on Sunday. We wanted to get married. We loved each other, and wanted our baby. We wanted to move to West Virginia and have a homestead. Jamie read Soldier of Fortune magazine, and I did too, and I also read the early issues of Rodale’s Organic Gardening that Mamaux had. There was a company called United Realty, and we saw places we thought we could afford.

Your father descended from the fallen angel lineage of the Tribe of Dann.

So that sunday when your to-be-grandparents came back from church, they took Jamie and I to Dunkin Donuts. We all got coffee and doughnuts, and drove back to the Bishops Lane house in Pop’s old white Suburban. Jamie was sitting on the left of the back seat, behind Pop, and I was on his right behind Mamaux. After Pop turned the engine off, he turned back toward me, looked into my face and said, “We know you are pregnant, Julie told us.” Your dad looked at me with a look of fear or dread. “What are you going to do with it?” Jamie and I looked at each other, and I said, and he seconded verbally, “We’re going to get married.” Jamie said, “We love each other”. Pop looked at Mamaux (who was silent) and then at me, and Jamie sort-of, since he was directly behind his line of sight, and said “We want you to have an abortion.” Jamie stiffened visibly, and I began to cry silently. Jamie got out of the truck, and I followed, and we went upstairs to the library room. He was white in the face-pale with anger. We were scared and felt deserted. All I could think about and say was that “Jim (your grandfather) is a Methodist minister and a christian and this is wrong! Why don’t they want us to have a baby!” I sobbed up there. It was a very bad day.

Pop (Jim the hypocrite pedophile) told us I couldn’t stay in the house anymore. There was a concrete pad in the woods where Jamie had begun building a log cabin – why? Because he could, he loved things like that, you know that. He was amazing. So we began building this log cabin for me to live in since Pop wouldn’t let me stay in the house! I was pregnant with you, Emily!

Some nights I did stay with Jamie in his room up on the third floor. There was a second-floor screened-in sleeping porch (as Janet and Jamie called it) that I stayed in a few times, when Janet (Chicken) wasn’t in DC. (It was always very formal, her coming and going to Washington. She dressed in her best vintage clothes, wore pearl or gold earrings, makeup, and always came back with money and pot. Janet always had a lot of both of those. She was very generous with both with me, as well. Jamie transitioned, it seemed, from her solicitous partner walking and going places to mine. He walked Janet with the tenderness and watchfulness that I saw he had my friend Celeste from the bus window in 10th grade. It became me.

We went to see my great uncles at the farm for their help in getting married. I did not know yet that Uncle Homer had been diagnosed with cancer. Both of them refused to help us. We had hoped to have one or both of them come to our wedding, which we thought we could get at the Saint Mary’s County MD courthouse. (My mother was in Tampa, and my father… I don’t even remember a reaction from him, so I think it was so painful that I blocked it out.) They told us it took three days wait after a blood test. We went to the courthouse and filed the application and each had blood drawn (the government keeps a DNA database for scurrilous reasons beyond ensuring same-family genotypes do not marry). We had no money left, and if we drove back to Catonsville for the weekend (it was a Friday), could not afford to drive back down to get married.

Uncle Clarence had a large, undeveloped parcel of farmland up the road, closer to Mechanicsville, and so we drove there to ‘camp’ until we could get married. We called your uncle Jon and asked him to come down and be our witness. He said he would. We had ten dollars left, and went to the Amish market and got a small bag of potatoes and a small slab of salt pork, a bag of coffee (either the kind with chicory – Luzianne, or Bustelo, I forget) and your dad got cigarettes, and I think that he got Marlboro, since tobacco was cheaper in that tobacco-growing county. We filled bottles of water. We had a camping mess kit, a frying pan, and an old tin ware percolator.

We cooked on a fire, and slept in a pup tent. We read, your dad smoked, we talked, and I had terrible, never-ending morning sickness. It was awful. We loved each other, though. We were hurt, and Jamie was angry with a conflicted anger he turned inward as he smoked, with a bitterness developing. I cried.

Jon came on the third day, and we met him at the courthouse. I had on embroidered overalls, which I eventually threw out after your dad got Levigh pregnant. Even though they were really pretty and very vintage, and I had embroidered them all over, they made me sad at all we lost and how lost we were. Why did no one want us to be a couple? Why would they want us to abort our child? Why O why would every set of parents always hurt me? Why? Why would Jamie not work? Why did the Littles hate my desire to become a doctor? (I am skipping forward here a few years, sorry.)

We were married and I remember laughing, looking down at my soiled overalls. We were relieved and happy that we were able to get married without it being stopped finally. Jon seemed happy, too, and I believe that is because his older brother was.

We drove home to Catonsville in my navy blue Volkswagen Beetle. Jim could no longer forbid us to sleep together. All those times he let Janet have her boyfriends over, and Jon had his now-wife Mary over, yet I wasn’t allowed to be there with Jamie, even though I was pregnant and we wanted to marry? Jim couldn’t stop us from being together anymore. (But he wasted no time finding other ways to hurt our marriage.)

We continued working on the cabin, but someone burned it down. It had to have been soaked with a flammable fluid, since the logs were locust and black walnut: very hard. I think Pop did it. I had just finished using an adze and draw shave that your dad taught me how to use, and finished the inner log surfaces and was readying to chink them, while your dad had finished framing the roof and put plywood sheeting on it and was making hand-split shingles and making windows for under the eaves. It was a beautiful, solid chalet and had to have taken effort to set fire.

So that is how we married forty years ago today, and what preceded and followed that May 1st.

This is only a beginning to put our marriage in a frame of understanding in light of knowing the truth about the Littles, and their children, and my own parents. I think about Jamie every day, and wish I could go back in time, and not have made some of the choices I did. I wish I had understood that, although it was hard for him to work every day with his father and those people – BECAUSE OF THE ABUSE HE ENDURED THROUGH THEM, WHICH I DID NOT KNOW THEN, BUT KNOW NOW – that your dad’s not working did not mean that he didn’t love me. I wish I had been faithful. I was 21, 22, 23 and stupid, ignorant, and I was sabotaged by my own parents. Thus I thought Jamie didn’t love me enough to provide for us (myself and you, Emily, and then Max too). When my mother and Kathy Troutman each encouraged me to leave Jamie, by that time he was very much an alcoholic, and I was often visibly bruised from his beating me, like Janet was by Bill. It was all just a mess.

When your dad and I found out we were pregnant with you, we wanted you. We wanted to get a house of our own. If not land in West Virginia, we next looked into that house on Frederick Road in Ellicott City. Pop influenced your dad not to buy it with me. I had gotten back my tax refund and had the $3,000.00 to make a down payment (the total cost was only $11,000.00 in 1982). Pop actually blocked me physically at the door of the Bishops Lane house and demanded my tax refund. I am sure he had looked into my refund check envelope. I was just getting home from picking you up from the babysitter after getting off work at the restaurant I worked at. This was June of 1982. When your dad finally was eroded by Pop to the point that he was convinced not to buy the house in Ellicott City with me, I moved to the “post office house” on the 4th of July. By August, your dad moved in. He came to the door in the middle of the night and knocked on it. This was the third floor apartment there, where we lived before moving to the first floor (I had become the manager of the building). I asked who was there through the closed, locked door, and Jamie said “It’s me, Jamie.” I said “Why are you here?” I was afraid of him being drunk. He said “I had to come back, I can’t live without you.”

We conceived you, Max, intentionally and with love. Emily was unplanned, but wanted. You were planned and wanted.

In my glass-topped jewelry box that I got with you, Emily, at the Goodwill on Cary Street the Thanksgiving weekend after Nana died I have the paper – a bulletin from my church, Salem Lutheran – on which I had written a premonition I had woken up with, and a note from your dad, under a drawing of a cloud with God rays, as he/we called them. The premonition is “Not for a constant moment but the world will be obliterated”, which is happening now. (Then, Three Mile Island nearly melted down, and I had my VW packed up ready to drive west with your dad if it did, pregnant with you, Emily.) Your dad’s words, in his neat print: “Wake me up when you get home, Jamie”. I look at it every night, and say back “I will”.

constant-moment_copyright-1

I love you all. I am sorry for my wrongs.

Mom

 

How It Began

September 30, 2019

This is a world in which children are a teased, prodded, tantalized, traumatized, tortured, raped, cannibalized and eaten alive and murdered in order that the fallen angel “alien” dieties (the Annunaki of Mesopotamia and Sumer provide the most evidence, but it precedes those ages), who do not have the mitochondrial capacity body type to metabolize light energy in food, so they harvest children, adults, animals – all living things.

My first memory was waking up at age nine months, tied into a metal-barred white-enamelled crib spread-eagled, held down in an X-shaped crucifix form of ACE Bandages, in pain, unable to move. That is my first memory.

My mother was a Washington, D.C. cardiac research nurse and I was used in government experiments to monitor my reaction to what was being done to me. My body functions of urination and defecation were controlled with diuetics, laxatives and enemas. I was kept sedated on Paregoric, a Class-5 liquid opiate, and forced to live on my back.

After two years of this, my mother’s brother who had been an Air Force Pilot in the Korean War, and had become an architect an gentleman farmer who built the grotto in Emmittsburg, MD, the Marian Visions of the Black Sun took place at, discovered what was being done to me after I had been released from the crib and my father raped me on the kitchen counter. When he left for the day (he had been in the US Navy in their band for four years on a ship, and was getting his Bachelors Degree in Music at the U of MD), I went to the bathroom and got the bottle of Bayer’s children’s orange-flavored aspirin and ate the hole bottle, to try to kill myself. I had already pulled the shells of my two turtles off, hiding behind the couch, so see what dying was. My mother has told me, because I liked the orange taste of baby aspirin, and apparently had a lot of it those two years in the crib being data-collected for the CIA’s MK Ultra pilot projects Monarch and Mannequin, that it would kill me. I needed to know what dead was. So I killed Tinkerbell and Sam, and, sobbing, ate the baby aspirin, crawled under my parents bed, and a thunderstorm came. My stomach hurt and I cried. My mother found me and made it all even worse by making me drink some awful yellow syrup (Ipecac), and I vomited. When my father came home I was whipped with a belt. I couldn’t count yet, but at some point I passed out.

Have you seen this face? That’s my mother.

My uncle took me from my parents to his farm in Flintstone, Maryland. Since I was only two, and he had to work (he was building the hospital that was in Cumberland), and my three cousins (one, P.B., was in the Montauk projects while he was in the Navy, and was top_stones_story_web severely damaged, and he became a medical officer at Fort Detrick, where in 1996 he would tell me they made AIDS) were not much older than I was, my uncle put a dog harness on me and attached the dog chain to it and an old bulldozer tire which he filled with sand and toys, and placed it at the edge of the tributary to the Potomac River that ran through his farm. A cooler with drinks and sandwiches was there and the chain was just the right length to prevent me from drowning. That was the summer of 1961 and I was two. He knew that was a much safer existence for me that what my parents were using me for. This caused a lot of tension, but I am grateful for his intervention, although it didn’t last long, it saved my life, I am sure. I was able to visit his farm until age ten. He too was under attack, like his own uncles, he resisted the cabal, refused to become a Freemason, and he died an unnatural death prematurely.

My nightmares were of hiding from Nazi stormtroopers with dogs, and I was protecting my brothers and other kids, hiding us in walls, cabinets, cellars, and hanging upside-down from the silver-plated box springs of beds, the aluminum-flake metal getting into

dollwvenus_selfportrait
Another of my first Photoshop pieces in 1997 now. The doll behind me was my mother’s. I used dolls cathartically.

my eyes, holding onto their arms and legs as they were discovered and pulled out of our hiding places. The dogs ripped at our clothing, bit our faces and bodies, snarling. Many were lost like this. I learned to use my forearm to pry open their jaws, and with my left hand, push their snout back, poking my fingers into their eyes. It only slowed them down, but it was self-defense.

This is just the beginning. Now I have decoded much of it. Here’s my “bio”, leaving out the part about my “second husband”, a newsman in the nation’s capital who is secretly a wanna-be transgender (he uses herbs and dresses cross in private, afraid to be discovered) who conspired to have me murdered in 2012. Miraculously, the shotgun shell missed my skull by a fraction of an inch, although it burned me. After the lifetime of MK Ultra, V2K, the satanic ritual abuse, the sabotage, destabilizing, the persecution, the killing of loved ones, the surviving “accidents:, arson attempts, being targeted by the gang in Fulton Hill in Richmond, losing my business, my animals, my home my art my lifetime of work my vehicles my health – LYME AKA MORGELLONS INFECTED WITH SMARTDUST BY THEM – I lost my family.
I DO NOT BACK DOWN.

I HATED Walt Disney films: FANTASIA was my trigger film father forced me to watch for two days.
I hated caves, and still do. And parking garages, and tunnels. And sleeping bags. You know why. And suffocating and drowning. I have drowned three times and been revived, but that’s not the only count. Yet I love to climb the mountains! SenecarocksWVclimb4julu97

I began speaking out in 2007 on MySpace, telling the world about the Bee Colony Collapse. When Facebook launched, I told all my “friends” repeatedly that it
is a voluntary CIA surveillance input database we are feeding ourselves into”.
I was ridiculed for that.
Now it is common knowledge.
For some reason, the only media I am “allowed” to use is WordPress, and that onlyand even then, it is hacked, posts are edited or removed. The youtube channels I have started are jammed. Videos have words replaced, moved around, lose meaning, no views, subscriber counts cap. Channels deleted.  And I am constantly hacked. At first I thought it was my newsman ex, who I had to inform the VA state police and IC3 about in 2016. Now it’s the social credit scoring done by the cabal.

I have seen the UFO crafts – all kinds – since age 3 or 4 (at the farm first) and as recently as last month, twice in one week here. I have had premonitions of the coming cataclysm that we are facing now, my brother’s death, my mother’s suicide attempt when I was 11 (I stopped it, she was in a coma, naked, beet-red, covered in foam, slimy clear froth coming from her mouth).

I have experienced ghosts, poltergeist and demons in my space since childhood as well. Once a woman died while I was drawing her blood when I was in pre-med at a Johns Hopkins Hospital (it was peaceful, her spirit passed through both of us and circled the ceiling and left. It was tranquil and affirming, I was 22).

At age 5, on a Baltimore television show on WJZ13, I loved to watch at home on Sunday afternoons, the host was a kind hobo in a gray suit. During each show, the children would all free-dance to classical music the likes of Erik Satie: interpretive. At home I dance my heart out. My father got me a ticket to be on the show, drove me there in the Dodge in the photo on this page and when it was time to dance, I wouldn’t. I felt as if I didn’t belong there then. Lorenzo (the “hobo” host – Stu Kerr was his name) knelt in front of me as I sat in a folding chair alone, all the children dancing, and askjed me – the cameras rolling – why I wasn’t dancing with the other children. “Because I’m not a child”, I answered. I was beaten for that, and once home, received lashes with the buckle end of the belt on my bare bottom.

At seven I began calling the police on my parents, but after the second call, I stopped, I couldn’t walk for the wounds from the belt buckle and broken yardsticks on my buttocks, thighs and calves. I stopped crying then, a silent rebellion.

The church was an escape, and the school ignored every word I said. I dared not tell anyone else.

Occasionally I would awake at a different age, time or place. I’d draw it, write stories, and it was said that I had a great imagination, was a dreamer.

By age ten, my parents were divorced. My father, high in the Elks Lodge heirarchy, MA in Music Howard County teacher, deacon of our church impregnated a young neighbor and it gets worse. Mother, an ICU night nurse fulltime, made me stop playing anymore and be her personal slave Cinderella and she was Mommie-dearest. She had a man move in who was a Roman Catholic from Highlandtown, John Anthony Baronowski. He and she were big-time swingers. I was drugged alot and used at his parties when she was at work. He was a pimp in Baltimore and had a string of hookers, passing off a fake career as a Baltimore City Police Detective with a fake badge. I found this out from my best friend Susie Collum’s dad, who worked as an engineer at Westinghouse nearby. He had compassion for me because I was kind, and had the three brothers and running the house on my young shoulders. I did everything by sixth grade. Everything. My mother and “Mr. John” ‘swung’.

MotherDemon_777
Here is a picture of a demon releasing from her. I took it. I saw it then.

Mr. John drugged me and tried to burn the house down with my brothers in it, and I saved us. He had left. That was in the middle of the night in February of 1970. My dog Dutchie saved us really. She jumped on my bed, barkig, despite the two “hot toddies” he had me drink because “couldn’t sleep because I feel like something bad is going to happen”. That something bad was pouring gasoline all over the kitchen curtains and setting the house on fire so they could collect on the Gerber Child Life Insurance Policies my mother had just taken out. She had had me bring her home the papers from Catonsville Elementary School. I asked for them in the office, Miss Hall gave them to me.

Someone in a video just said people are having problems remembering their past(s). Not me.

So here we were, me, Jay, Charlie and David, barefoot in snow, and I ran to Miss Bruchey’s next door and banged, calling the police and fire department. Mr. John came running up just as they arrived, and must have watched from a distance around the corner, then gone around the alley and come down the driveway from the back. He ran up and said “Thank God you got here, it’s horrible”, and pretended to cry. He threw himself on the ground and pretended he was suffering. I looked at him, a sixth grade girl, still outside in the snow barefoot, and screamed “YOU DID THIS!”

It gets worse… My mother drove up and he became a crisis actor.
After that I began to imagine them dying in a car accident, praying for forgiveness for the thoughts. In my dreams I tore him and other men’s eyes out, jumping on their backs from behind. I was staunchly virtuous, and suffered constant beatings, being burned, bruised, bones broken. My brothers… oh my god.

Charlie was driven to commit suicide at age 20, and event I had a vision of but could not stop. The other two are still alive, if you call it that.

So when the CIA came to collect their supersoldier in her twelfth grade year, I said no.
Those are just a few high spots.
Here I am.
They (the Annunaki interdimensional parasites who rule this world) don’t let a person succeed who does that.
My great uncles suffered similar fates career-wise, Uncle Homer even losing his entire valley because he left the DuPont wing of Post WWII Operation Paperclip. He tried to get so far from them he bought an entire valley in California, and had to go in and out by plane, helicopter, or guywire and pulleys. (I even met a man online last year who grew up hearing about my great uncle!) – the movie Chinatown is about that land they flooded. They took his land. I ended up living with Uncle Homer on the farm he had after that in St. Mary’s County, Maryland. It’s Amish now. He’s long passed.

The early days of the projects involved extremely invasive methods with drug classes and handlers who had less finesse than the eighties and nineties. Also, the saturation and vernacular of commercial pop culture and children in the gamer world hadn’t biased interpretation of what was happening.

The MK Ultra ran out of Spring Grove State Hospital, just across the beltway bridge. We used to go watch the Leary LSD experiments on the weekends, and saw and heard what I don’t like to describe. The Catonsville Nine draft record burning was dome with chemicals mixed by a member who became my UMBC Physics instructor. Small world. michael-jackson-blood-on-the-dance-floor-350x352 My high school friend Will Wilson went on the paint Michael Jackson’s BLOOD ON THE DANCE FLOOR album cover. He’s then one who took me to the CIA’s Forever Family cult.

I remember when the entities would visit me, and their forms which went through walls, or came through radios and televisions, like now, but more evident then. More visible.

My children made art about the cloning centers before they went to the dentist, who gave them fluoride treatments. Dear GOD I wish I had known then. I should have listened to their father, Jamie, my husband. He told me fluoride was used by the Nazis in concentration camps, but I didn’t understand yet. But he had already been fractured, himself a butterfly from DC used in sex trade as a child by his father, the then-Chaplain of Fort Meade Military Base. The clientele they were passed around in included being at the *author Tom Wolfe‘s home, and they were still friends with his clone son of same name, dress (white suit) and affectations. We “partied” together.

The images of my two children are black and white photographs I took, developed and printed. My daughter’s is infrared, my son’s is Tri-X. Note the starfish… sure you have.

After I was left homeless by this reptilian mass media shill whose YouTube banner literally is the station’s mast truck he operates, set up at Sandy Hook, the whole setup behind – he is the one who wrote “I’m in news, I lie for a living” publicly, in 2013 – and then I was targeted with Lyme and developed Morgellons Syndrome, the canary-in-the-coal-mine reaction true children of the Light with a high VMAT2 gene expression have. Because we are extra small, atom-sized, atom-us.

I’ll stop there. I’m grateful others speak out too. It helps to be specific. Makes a person more believable. Of course in the case of a child, then that’s different. I love you all, and each of us is a wayshower. There is great deception, and we cannot even conceive of what joy awaits us soon. We are refined by The Purifier, so stand. Or as I said in last night’s post, RISE

Namasté.

*A bonfire of the vanities is “a burning of objects condemned by authorities as occasions of sin“.  Now there’s a Luciferian inversion for you, them passing us through the fire.

Tags: ascension,bases,Catonsville Nine,children,CIA,deception,DIVINE LIGHT BEINGS,human cloning,Leary,LSD,matrix,mind control,MK Ultra,programming,SSP,Secret Space Program,supersoldiers,Spring Grove State Hospital,trauma,underground bases,veils,TRUE HISTORY

© EATING TO ASCEND – THE ASCENSION DIET 2019
@EatingToAscend http://eatingtoascend.com

THREE POSTS IN ONE: THE UNIFIER IS TRUTH Blogpost 11August2019

THREE POSTS IN ONE: THE UNIFIER IS TRUTH Blogpost 11August2019
(posted on the 12th)

The WP redirect BS again, 12:40Am 12Aug2019
https://wordpress.com/wp-login.php?redirect_to=https%3A%2F%2Fwordpress.com%2F
IT TOOK ME OVER 90 MINUTES TO GET ONLINE AND LOGGED INTO WORDPRESS. MOST PEOPLE WOULD HAVE GIVEN UP. THIS IS REALLY OVER-THE-TOP. I MUST BE SAYING SOMETHING THEY DON’T WANT HEARD. #PROOF

August 11, 2019 (But it’s 1:30AM on the 12th now)

“My people are destroyed for lack of knowledge, because thou hast rejected knowledge, I will also reject thee, that thou shall be no priests to me, seeing thou hast forgotten the Law of thy God, I will also forget thy children.” – Hosea 4:6

THIS IS A THREE-PARTER.
P.S. (lol PRE-script!) Watch WANTED (jolie, freeman) then The Adjustment Bureau (damon) and think about the wizard past the elysium fields and the fact that all governments are nephilim and enchantment is the veil since their religion IS witchcraft.

FIRST SEGMENT: WHAT I WITNESSED THIS MORNING

To break up the morning, I decided to run an errand, but forgot something and had to return to the house. Then drove a different way, just for randomness, and at a stop sign looked up. The sky was almost cloudless. I saw in the distance over the trees past a municipal park two objects in the sky, floating and very bright and dynamic, yet not helium balloons (too large) or kites. I crossed the intersection and drove into the park, as they were still in my direct line of sight. As I was looking, they disappeared. I gathered their relative size and speed from the environment while parked, taking these two pictures.

Here is where I saw two celestial objects, one larger, one smaller, flying together. There was one on the right, which looked as if it was a humanoid-shaped figure in white, and the white around it was in motion, like plasma balls that created a form, the movement of which kept the figure materialized to my sight and moving. It seemed to have a red hem or sash, and what looked like a head. It was interacting with a smaller being, in similar form. This one had blue instead of red, and seemed to be looking to and following the larger apparition, which looked like it was guiding the form just to its left, and slightly lower and behind, as if on a path. The appearance of the two was as an adult leading a child by the hand, while the child looked about in wonder and the adult looked back at him (or her). They were above the trees seen here, and rose another short distance and then dematerialized.

It was 10:36 EST when I took the two photos. The sky was clear. I felt a sense of peace. I ran my errand, and have been processing what my third eye sees of this.

Did a small child pass away and was being led by an angel into heaven?

If so, would this sighting beyond the veil necessarily be local, as in, to this geographic area? It was near a hospital, and the beings I saw were above homes, roads… an urban area.

With The Destroyer upon us now, its elliptical transit so close this month (the reason for all the 5G GWEN DEW towers, to control people when they begin to lose it as has happened every other reset, though they are hiding this from the masses with their enchantments, pharmakiea and their sorcery, including the geoengineering climate change lie), at night I often see stars, and they are in unusual places now. North is no longer where it once was. The stars are angels, appointed in their transits. The sacred texts (this includes the bible as put forth by Religion, Inc, albeit that is watered down information) all reveal that the skies will change, the stars, the sun, the moon. They use the geoengineering to mask this. By morning their jets and crafts have made trails and clouds and whiteouts to hide the massive, striped Nibiru spanning the rims of the earth we call the horizon.

Are the beings I spotted perhaps local watchers? For I have seen similar, at night. And of course, the Ezekiel’s Wheel I photographed, which was featured by Steve Olsen on his ZionaziTube channel WSO before they deleted it (even the supposed backup copy is hacked, a great effort they go to indeed, to silence my voiced observations as a witness in these End Days.

#detoxplease

SECOND SEGMENT: TO ALL THE FANTASY, SCIENCE FICTION AND HEALTH WRITERS FOLLOWING MY BLOG

Thank you for following, may I first say. I see that a fair number of my blog’s followers are self-proclaimed writers of Fantasy, fiction or Sci-Fi. As well, many who blog about various health topics. You, health writers, I am not so concerned about. But you fiction authors, and Nanowrimo peeps, heed my warning: plagiarism is a crime. Intellectual property theft is serious business, especially when what one “lifts” or “is inspired to use as a character, plot, story model – whatever – is derived from the content of what I write, which is TRUTH. Hard-won truth attained through detoxification of the pineal gland and study of all that has been occulted (hidden) by the powers of this world to create deception, hide from the individual their TRUE IDENTITY AS A DIVINE CHILD OF THE LIGHT AND ONE WITH THE CREATOR, and harvest the trauma they foment as a utility source, which is even sold back to the masses for their financial profit. It is free energy to them because we are their human resources: NOT TO BE CONFUSED WITH ELECTROGRAVITIC FREE ENERGY TESLA TRIED TO MAKE HUMANITY AWARE OF.

So if you – a Ravenclaw, for instance (get thee behind me satan) – make use of the enlightenment freely shared here, YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS THEFT ETERNALLY.

DO YOU WANT THAT FATE?

This blog is Premium: the domain copyrights the content and this is intellectual property. Yes, I work here doing the Great Commision to save souls: yours included. If you identify with dark forces, you are out of your league here.
You have been advised.

SURVEILLANCE, HACKING, IDENTITY THEFT, AND THE COLLUSION OF GOVERNMENT AGENCIES TO FURTHER DARK AGENDA OF SECRETKEEPING (EX IN NEWS)

Since meeting him, after he lied to me that he ‘really wasn’t a crossdresser or gay, but just experimenting (air quotes here) since his soon-to-be-ex-wife emasculated him’ (that’s as close to his verbatim words as I can recall), and before his then-STBX contacted ME through my eBay account and threatened to blackmail HIM for his lingerie and corsets and wigs, thinking I was part of what she left him because of… I had just met him, heard the lies… there was dark stuff there and I was so, so naive, so blind. I had no idea then about detoxing! #GodsPlanIsPerfect I believed what he said. What a mistake. And then the online hacking of all I did began, including gangstalking by first the barn manager where I boarded my horse, who insisted he was cryptorchid (an undescended testicle) and was dangerous, when he was a perfect gentleman with perfect ground manners and perfectly gelded (RIP Devon, a victim of all I speak of here), the neighbors who screamed from their yard “we’re watching you!” put up to it by his STBX, then friends and family. It is all of a pattern of classic gangstalking and not worth giving cerebral real estate to. Her (his now-first-ex-wife) had been having an affair with and then married a known and self-proclaimed computer hacker. My blog then, named after my LLC called HOME – Our Home Farm, was hacked. So it began. But I recognized it from my previous work experience, having learned computers from DOS and up, software and hardware, to becoming multiplatform and Lan/Wan certified at server level including telephony and all peripherals – even mainframes before Y2K, during which I worked at NASA Goddard Space Flight Center. And before that, I had singlehandedly created the helpdesk AND RAN IT for the Archdiocese of Baltimore, and after working at NASA Goddard, I worked at the Discovery Channel… DURING ALL THESE CONTRACTS I WAS TIER 3/4 DESKTOP SUPPORT RUNNING EXCHANGE MAIL SERVERS, and I was a Macintosh specialist as well, creating dual boot systems with emulators (there’s more preceding and following technical ‘stuff’, but that’s enough to make my point): I have spent a fair amount of time in the trenches of viruses and malware, trojans and denial of service attacks.

I have therefore been hacked since 2008 and it’s almost 2020. They will never stop. This is what they do: they are dedicated to destroying God’s people. (Read up on VMAT2 here)

He forged my name electronically and filed taxes as if we were still married, although we were legally separated. He wrote online back then “I’m in news. I lie for a living.” The Ire-Ess kowtowed to him – as all entities did and still do – because he is a part of their beast machine. His banner ZionaziTube is a pic of the mast truck he drives at… SANDY HOOK. He’s proud of that. SandyHookPakistanMassacreFFpic

That’s SICK. How could I make this up! The proof is all there.

So I do pray for him. Like the writers who, like crows (ravens) swoop down and pluck up shiny baubles, he’s hoping I’ll pass before my time and he can collect on the life insurance policy he took out on me without my knowledge and in the property and settlement agreement which HE WROTE, asked for and was awarded by the Baltimore County Court in the legally-sanctioned theft his affluent father paid lawyers to commit while he claimed he was poor and stole all I owned in my long life, although he and I were married one day less than two years. We had NO CHILDREN, NO PROPERTY except the F350 he took, although I had sold my truck I woned outright before we met and married (I was his ‘show-the world-he-was-straight-when-he’s-not trophy wife who in the first year figured his deception out, throw open the closets and said I DO NOT CONSENT TO YOUR SKELETONS – and he crushed me like a bug as reptilians do.
Or so he thought. The etymology of my name is Victory.

The bumpersticker you have seen REALLY says HE WHO DIES WITH THE MOST TOYS LOSES.

So, being targeted and interfered with, AKA hacked. In the last week, I have dealt with supervisors at the bank, my main shopping source, and my ISP. Twitter account infiltrated just enough to leave-the-gas-on breadcrumbs of changing the color scheme and reading notifications. Besides legacy back to April interference with these things, payment abilities, illegal external logon attempts to get into my main shopping account. My mail server as well (paid for, not government email AKA gmail). (Made by the folks who bring us the dark entities are being brought in daily and a videotaped human sacrifice, as well as their opening ceremony ritual celebrating Lucifer are available online for all the world to see, so hey, even THEY are the dark majority giving the semblance of privacy to the unwitting. A Shiva stands at CERN as their idol.)

I am looking right at the paper records of my meeting with the state police and the Internet Crime Commission. I reported these cyber attacks (and more) on June 11, 2016.
People who work for the beast think they are above the law.
What makes him dangerous is that so many think he’s a good guy: HA. FACADE. Someone, please, go into his garage and house: it will be full of all my things. At least those he didn’t sell or give away.
And this sad person has police level access to databases.
This is truly a fallen world.

Ephesians 6 speaks of people like that as the wickedness in high places.

#ISayBraveThings #TruthIsTheSword #GoodPrevails #IWasMadeThisWay #IIdentifyAsARighteousWoman

THE BEAST IS EVERYWHERE.

What is being done to me and my online presence and activities is an attempt to stop my ability to purchase, to communicate, and to create. To research, to network, and to exist as we have all come to think is natural.
Why is this happening?
BECAUSE I AM A WHISTLEBLOWER AND THIS IS HIGH ORDER.

#PSYCHICDRIVING

 

Not only do I call out those who were once close to me, like my DC newsman ex, and my adult daughter (perhaps also my son, but I pray not) who is likely the beneficiary on this highly illegal and nefarious for ill-gotten gain GANNETT life insurance policy that is UNDESERVED BY HIM AND UNWARRANTED LITERALLY, AS WE HAD NO CHILDREN OR OWNED SHARED PROPERTY OR INVESTMENTS AND WERE MARRIED LESS THAN TWO YEARS. MY EX IS THE PERSON OF INTEREST IN THE ADVENT OF MY PREMATURE DEATH OF ANY CAUSE. I pray I am wrong about my blood family possible involvement, but these things must be documented, and searchable, in the advent of malfeasance of any kind which affects my wellness and personhood.

I call out the medical system who refused to test me for Lyme Disease after a lifetime of tickbites in Maryland’s Patapsco Park I called my playground for decades, the family farms in Allegheny and St. Mary’s Counties, and residences in Pennsylvania and Virginia all my life (besides Maryland). The 300 acres on the James I was asked to survey on foot, hiking, on Memorial Day weekend in 2015 where I was attached to by 20-30 nymph ticks.
Washington DC, MD, PA, and VA are ALL TICK HOTBEDS.
I call out the entire Luciferian world.
YOU HYPROCRITES AND MONSTERS.

I call out the family – birth and married into – who participated in satanic ritual abuse and hurt all of us, my own family and Jamie’s, the father of my children.  And all families intertwined with ours or not – for it is everywhere. The child molesters, the rapists, the soul-stealing narcissists who literally kills children, albeit slowly, over a lifetime, spanning all time.

I call out my parents. My mother (Do You Know This Face?) who I believe was an MK Ultra nurse in the nation’s capital, and USED ME IN THEIR EXPERIMENTS.
I call out my father who raped me before I was two. I remember EVERYTHING.

CIA MK Ultra Document dated 27 March 1959, partial, transcribed

MEMORANDUM FOR: THE RECORD

SUBJECT: Continuation of MKULTRA, Subproject 68

1. Subproject 68 is being continued as a means to support a research
program, the effects opon human behavior of the repition of verbal
signals. The program will be under the direction of D. (blacked out)
Chairman of the Department of Psychiatry at (blacked out, but this
could be looked up and connected). The program will be for a period of
one year, starting 16 March 1959.

2. The scope of the project encompasses studies upon the effects of
predetermined signals upon (a) physiological functions, (b) patterns of
behavior. The immediate objectives of the program entail a study of
methods to (a) improve the technique of heteropsychic driving (b) to
investigate the range of physiological functions which can be changed
by these procedures. More specifically, these studies include:

(1) A search for chemical agents which will breakdown the ongoing
patterns for behavior:
more rapidly
more transitorily
with less damage to the perceptive and cognitive capacities of
the individual than the present physiological agents.

(2) An attempt to develop better methods of inactivating the patient
during the period of driving (exposure to repetition), and at the same
time maintain him at a higher level of activity, by physiological and
chemical agents, than by the present physical effects. Among the
chemical agents which are being explored with respect to their capacity
to produce inactivation are the following (used either singly or in
combination):

Artane
Anectine
Bulbocapnine
Curare
LSD-25

I call out the public school system who saw the bruises, welts, cuts and burns, the missed days, poor grades and attendance – who confiscated my journal from 7th grade – and whose nurses and guidance counselors participated in the coverup.

I call out the Boy Scouts and Girl Scouts. My brother, 11, was sodomized by his scout leader’s stepson who was mentally handicapped and 18 years old, and neither my parents, his parents or the Boy Scouts did anything.

I call out the Freemasons, The Eastern Star and the Job’s Daughters fraternal organizations. I was the Jobie chaplain for five years (12-17) and was used at age 16 in a ritual in which I was drugged and my virginity was taken by the honored queen’s brother, who was a McCartney clone. Their uncle is Jerry Falwell! How small IS this world, how crazy! Read my posts IMAGINATION LIMITS OUR FUTURE and EXTRA SMALL.

I call out the county police and fire department who knew the child abuse was going on because I began calling them at age 7. The fire department knew my mother and her new boyfriend (parents divorced the year before, father a county teacher married another county teacher who had been a part of their 1960’s Baltimore County Education system swingers club (Last name Phelan jingle any bells?) drugged me and set the house on fire, but she slept with the fire chief and the arson investigation was silenced! I was eleven! I saved my three brothers!

I call out Salem Evangelical Lutheran Church. You, Pastor G. Paul Lottich FAILED ME LITERALLY as well as figuratively. I was the ONLY 14 year old girl who was a virgin, who did not – had NEVER – drank or done drugs, I had come to church since joining choir at age 4 and going to all sunday school and bible camps. I was ZEALOUS and SINCERE about GOD and TRUTH. You failed me in that you told me that for missing sunday school because I had to stay home alternate weekends and “keep my brothers quiet so my mother could sleep”, you decided I had to repeat 9th grade and could not move on. Yet on the weekends I was ALLOWED to let them make noise, i.e. get them dressed and walk them the mile – in any weather – to church, all three of them, and this included ironing their shirts and trousers and shining their shoes… Pastor Lottich, YOU FAILED ME. I was DEVOUT. I LOVED JESUS. I was PURE. You too, PAstor Lottich, must have been failed, so very badly.
This led me to joining the Forever Family cult the CIA created.

I CALL OUT ALL THE CHURCHES. This deception goes back to the beginning of all history.You are all a part of the synogogue of satan Yehushua called out.

I call out Keypoint Health, which was once simply the county mental health clinic. Lori Butkovich, the therapist who refused to allow me to incorporate spirituality into my therapy, when I requested that at our first meeting in my early thirties, and who in 2013 regretted disallowing doing that. You and your clinic and the illuminati mental health deception flowchart poisoning of minds plan destroyed what was left of the family I was trying to have, AGAINST ALL ODDS, BUT I LOVED THEM, MY FAMILY, MY CHILDREN.

I call out EVERY SINGLE PERSON WHO DROVE MY BROTHER CHARLIE TO SUICIDE. You alphabet agency mind contril V2K murderers. Pediatrician Robert Irwin who drugged two fo my three brothers to the hilt with Dexedrine, before Ritalin became a thing. THEY WEREN’T ‘HYPERACTIVE’: they were NORMAL, INTELLIGENT BOYS WITH ALCOHOLIC CHILD ABUSERS ON DRUGS AND WORKERS OF SYSTEMIC INIQUITY FOR PARENTS. And the adjacent county’s police who tapped my (then landline) telephone, and followed me with unmarked cars, parked outside of my house, intimidating and terrorizing me, a 25YO young mother of two who had the audacity (you bet I did!) to initiate an investigation into how badly they handled the accident scene.

The same county that WIPED AWAY THE $44,000.00 I WAS OWED IN BACK CHILD SUPPORT, the one that legally sanctioned the theft of all I owned in the recent so-called divorce, is the county government that put my estranged, very sad to speak of brother J into their public database as a child molester, when he had been framed by a 33 year old crack whore who lied, ruiniing his life. And I mean, his life was RUINED. AFTER ALL THE NEUROLOGICAL DAMAGE OUR PEDIATRICIAN AND MOTHER CAUSED, he became an alcoholic and drug addict of diminished mental capacity, then homeless. This is the same gifted child who built Testor models of jets and ships, painstakingly assembling and painting them, and hanging them from fishing line from his bedroom ceiling. Who made masks for all of us to wear so that we could see the solar eclipses safely. Who read everything he could get his hands on. He and Charlie both were gifted, talented, empathetic and kind. The only child who became a worldly success is the youngest, who is a narcissistic co-abuser our mother left everything to, and is a guilt-ridden alcoholic intelligent but trapped in a programming TV and sports prison who watches the idiot box even sleeping. I love him. I do. I pray for him daily. IT IS NOT OUR FAULTS.
We were SACRIFICED.
WE HAVE ALL BEEN.
WE MUST ALL LOVE AND FORGIVE EACH OTHER.

Like I was, forbidden to go outside and play anymore at age twelve, “because I had to take care of the boys”. If all this (and so much more) happened to just the four of us, WHAT WAS DONE TO OUR PARENTS, AND THEIR PARENTS?
It’s mindboggling.

I HAVE LYME DISEASE WHICH BECAME MORGELLONS, THAT COULD HAVE BEEN AVOIDED WITH A SIX MONTH SET OF THREE ANTIBIOTICS in June of 2015, THE PRESCRIPTIONS ROTATED, Dr. John White of Henrico Medical Accociates in Richmond! I WORKED for my Medicare. It’s not SSI. I earned it as a single working mother. I’m not a drug addict. I do not make the system profits though. I’m a Child of God. I have had to heal myself at great cost, and lost everyone and everything. Everyone, I say, because, tragically, my family believes the medical system’s lies. I rejoice in being a targeted individual. I choose eternal life over any material fleeting satisfaction obtained by
selling out to lies.
I wouldn’t trade the clarity of understanding I have for anything. Thank you, God!
I am so truly blessed.

Now if my family would just wake up.

I call out almost everyone. The ones who were good were and are truly the meek, poor and downtrodden, ignored and denied any and all ability to help stop the abuse at Shadynook. So few in number, and now, all gone. (I now know other Elect, and there are good people I am connected with, thanks to the trust I put in His Plan and where I am within It.)

I call out all rewriters of history. The fact that all we have all been taught is lies. The skeletons in the closets – come out now! Let me hang all these facts in the wind for you!

So yeah. My computer and online time is hacked. But I stand up to all of you, and I will never stop.

I must be such a frustrating Project Monarch and Project Mannequin original MK Ultra subject to them! I understand why my parents moved from the DC suburb we lived in to a street separated by a train bridge over the beltway from the Spring Grove Hospital Center where CIA experiments were in progress, the LSD ones involving operatives Timothy Leary and Richard Halpert (AKA Ram Dass of BE HERE NOW NOW BE HERE fame, that New Age mind control psyop to destroy the family and remove GOD from society). There is NO WAY this is coincidence. I grew up watching the experiments through the cracked, barred windows. I grew up THERE, things done to me in that cloning center 42 miles from DC, on the military road called 695. Coincidence? Ha.

MY UNIVERSITY PHYSICS PROFESSOR (I was in pre-med, SO glad I never became a murderer medical doctor) – MIXED THE INCENDIARY CHEMICALS FOR THE CATONSVILLE NINE.
My hometown.
I read 1984 in 1974 and that says everything.

The redirects of my premium WordPress blog login were identified by the “Happiness Team” support specialist as malware and hacking. I have witnessed the trojan in action, and see the scripts running, which explain the 10-20 browser instances running, when the cache is clean, zero, no history, and one tab is open. This is a lean, clean old system.

Even at a nearby MCDONALDS on their WiFi, a McDonalds I had never been to (and I never go to fast food places or any restaurants anymore, for that matter), with ample funds in the bank, I was not permitted to purchase alternate forms of software to examine what might be operant and remove it, as advised to do by all techs I have spoken with. THEN THE BACKBONE NETWORK OF MICKEY D’S DID A DENIAL OF SERVICE ON ME. And that was that.

They are able to completely halt pageloads at logins. They do it.
They are inside the backend of my paid-for email and VPN, the positive part of the atom, by name, FYI. And their “helpdesk team”, like all Secret-keeping Cluster A and Cluster B Narcissists who Lucifer was the first of, simply ignore my questions regarding technical security and etc., (I will leave usaid the specifics, but their silence reveals the answers and confirms all suspicions which arise from clues my background recognizes, as well as having a well-functioning pineal gland). (Note while trying to get online and post this: they have quite possibly applied DoS (denial of service) limitations to my VPN ability. Wow.)

Why is this happening?
The CIA doesn’t like it when they come to collect the 16 year old girl to work for them who they thought they had groomed/traumatized/gave splits and alters to SO THEY COULD USE HER TO DO THEIR DIRTY WORK.
Sweeping me under the rug has been their effort since 1976 when I told them no, unconditionally.

Oh no. NOW they REALLY have a thorn in their side.

I am one of Jah’s Elect, a watcher, and we are in the End Days.
I WAS MADE FOR THIS.

I stood up with truth and ethics to a lizard in capital news, and they give me Lyme and Morgellons. AND I HEALED MYSELF. I learned how to detox others as well.

I CLAIM MY DESTINY – THE DESTINY YOU TOO CAN CLAIM – AS A CHILD OF THE LIGHT, AND A PRIEST IN THE ORDER OF MELCHIZIDEK.

Jehovah never called anyone priests. The Religion, Inc. Roman Catholic Church translators of the edited bible did, in their weaponized word choices. The word “priests” is a 17th Century Englishman’s interpretive translation of what was actually said by Yeshua in the Hebrew: as the Elect, we are called by Jehovah to be KOHANIM. This is the plural of kohan: what was falsely interpreted as priests (giving the church of Religion, Inc. the power to extort and deceive and erase history under the deceptively trusted title of priests is actually the word JEHOVAH said: Kohanim. The plural of Kohan, I repeat. The verb root of Kohanim must be examined in order to understand the word Kohanim. Kohan’s verb root is “kahan”: one is a kohen only to the extent that one kahans. I hope that you have already immediately made the association to the term to “ken” something, from the celtic lore, eh? It means “to know”. One cannot be a kohan if they do not kahan. Only certain chosen people can kahan. Religion Inc. intentionally replaced kohan and kohanim with priest and priests, the officers and arm of the workers of iniquity, at the highest levels.
So what does Jehovah mean by His word, kohan? From Gesenius’ Hebrew Chaldee Lexicon to the Old Testament, kohan in its verb form means “to presage, predict, prophesy, and, by extension, to undertake anyone’s cause, to act as a deputy, or delegate, by [with authorization by that person or people] presenting the words of the one whose cause he [or she] has undertaken to third persons; to stand up on behalf, and to labor in the authorizing person’s cause.” Gesenius’ Hebrew Chaldee Lexicon to the Old Testament, pg. 385 [in relation to word number 3547]. Yeshua kahans in the heavenly tabernacle, according to the Word of God. The elect do so now. No societally ordained 501c3 accredited church affiliation is necessary. Only the Mind and Hand of God working through those He so chooses to receive The Light, who recognize and love Truth.
The Hebrew language literally tells a story. (And yes, the Egyptian language, and Mesopotamina/Sumerian, were also cuniform. Look at the timing and connection, post-Destroyer cataclysm reset.
This is why they changed language, the Babel tower Yahveh destroyed. The fallen angel-created languages hide history, and true history is inarguable truth. If you have wondered what people mean when they say language is weaponized, perhaps that just helped you understand it better!

KahanInHebrew Looking at the word KAHAN in pictographic letter form, as it always is in the Hebrew, one sees it is of three letters (pictograph symbol elements, to the western mindset), reading from right to left. The first one is an upturned open palm, which signifies “bend, allow, open, tame”: to submit; to be open to input. The next letter is a man with arms raised up with inspired revelation. The last letter is a nune, a representation of a sperm, and means life, or if in the final position, means the final son or heir who is the Messiah.
What is it to be a kohan? A kohan is “One who is submitting to the revelation that brings life, and speaks of the Messiah”. This is what it REALLY means to be a priest, as the word priest is considered to be.

And in Holly-wood, we have the Coen Brothers, film noir moviemakers extraordinaire. Coincidence? No. Inversal as usual.

I ask you this: would true bearers of Light do the heinous things that torture this world’s people? The little I have related of my life alone bears witness to the fallacy existent in their so-called roles! And I am but one person who had three brothers… two children, three grandchildren…

The Most High God INTENDED all of this, and all of this they fight tooth and nail; a dragon thing, divine light beings needs none! Where DO these clichés come from? <— That’s rhetorical. SMH. The reason for the alphabet agencies and Wag The Dog false flag twin tower human sacrifice stem cell therapy and natural flavor abortion business-cum-passing children over the fire to Ba’al, their adrenochrome-drinking governments and monarchies, the corporate oligarchs, the Rothschild dwelling in England where Lucifer sits at the table: his residence on earth when assuming human form. His grandson Mark Zuckerburg’s Facebook voluntary trauma endocrine harvesting surveillance database which feeds their Tavistock, adverts, social steering agendas… oops, I digressed again.

If you are reading this blog, unless you are a. – just a voyeur, ostensibly, or b. – in league with evil as a stalker of ANY kind, you are reading it because the Most High is calling you, too. I pray that you are enabled to speak out, too, against the wrongs of this world that we Lightworkers have come together to right.

I once met a man who was V2K’d to the point where all he could do was vocalize the voices he heard: it was truly like overhearing the transmission of parts of conversations from many different radio stations all at once, constantly. He was obviously educated, and was clean, well-kept, and healthy (looking). He had kind features and a pleasant, quiet voice, which could say thank you, I noticed, when a door was opened for him. Yet if you weren’t looking at him, all you heard was the many tiny portions of sentences. It was so sad. At the time, I thought he “was psychotic”, for want of a better term. Now I know that psychosis is created by the mind-splitting caused m=by MK Ultra tactics, which have existed literally since time immemorial, and are now full-on business. Even the woman who ran the barn my poor Devon was last at before he was euthanized was retired Army and worked for the government selling satellite contracts for the telecommunications companies. Really. I cannot make this up. (And yes, she gangstalked me.)

“My people are destroyed for lack of knowledge, because thou hast rejected knowledge, I will also reject thee, that thou shall be no priests to me, seeing thou hast forgotten the Law of thy God, I will also forget thy children.” – Hosea 4:6

The strong delusion and the apostacy of the churches hinges on this intentional omission of the true meaning of Kohanim.

Absolutely related to what I just explained in the preceding paragraph above, I had a great chat with @GreyTonka about the process of sacred information downloads and how it feels; how unbidden it is, how it affects us, our relationships, our bodies – everything. We spoke about water and cymatics. Making the acquaintance of another watcher who is being shown truth – watching this unfold, a watcher watching a watcher – it is amazing, and bless-ed, and sublime. I have no words for this. I suggested she look up the cymatics of church work that has been done. I am sure she will discover why structured water is real, and needed. DO YOU STRUCTURE YOURS? If you don’t, please start. Look at my kombucha posts, you can see the bottles, and (if it hasn’t been hacked out like some of my other posts) read what I have written. Search “cymatics” in the searchbar above. THIS IS GOD’S LAW: LIGHT > SOUND > CREATION.

Okay.

Ending this portion of today’s quilt-of-a-blogpost here for now. Thank you for reading, and I hope that all TIs (targeted individuals, i.e. the entire of humanity, miscegenated as it is) benefit. If you do not do it yet, please begin to detox. Your body is the antenna.

#detoxplease

THIRD (AND FINAL, WHEW) SEGMENT: THOUGHTS ON MISCARRIAGE, ESPECIALLY FIRST PREGNANCY MISCARRIAGE

A couple I care about very much just lost their first child. They are married and this baby was intentional and very much wanted. They see this as a part of the Most High’s plan, and I agree. His Plans are Perfect. His Law is Perfect. Children of The Light learn to live by His Law. (Jesus was an Essene, the Catholic Church hid this fact, and all churches hide it still. The world as it has been toxified makes it difficult to follow The Way, which is why this blog is subtitled ALKALINE DIET AND OPTIMAL HEALTH IN A NANO TOXIC WORLD.

I was thinking… if the mother carrying the baby who miscarries was not a virgin at the time of conception (I do not know whether she was or was not, in this case), but had the genetic material DNA of previous sex partners or from pelvic imflammatory disease (PID) parasites from sex play or bad family hygiene (at best), could this be a reason a miscarriage occurs?

Nichole, my daughter-in-law who I make intercessory prayers for daily, as she died of an accidental Illuminati Sackler-family depopulation drug Fentanyl overdose on December 20, 2018, was plagued by PID since her early teens, as was my sister-in-law, the older sister my first husband, the father of my two children, whose family lineage is of the Tribe of Dann. Both of these women were molested by their fathers as young girls, and each of them suffered from PID and an entire spectrum of reproductive and menstrual problems. I have come to recognize that, as all disease and death is parasites stemming from the original parasite called Lucifer, satan, Belial, Ba’al, Sammael, Baphomet, Beelzebub, and more, the afflictions from his seed are passed through the reproduction of those he mind controlled to traumatize – SACRIFICE – their own children to. (See the Fetal Cell Natural Flavoring page.)

Poverty or affluence make no matter, although cleanliness is indeed next to Godliness. Processed or impure foods, vaccinations, epidemics, OTC medication and the print, radio and television programming all contributed to this in the pre-digital days. The advertising, the growing music industry and Hollywood drove all of this agenda, with behind the scene forces of the axis of evil with men at the helms including Werner Von Braun, Walt Disney, Aleister Crowley (Barbara Bush’s father) and Mr. Prometheus destroyer of worlds himself, the father of the Manhattan Project, Robert Oppenheimer. Josef Mengele, who devised new lows in human experimental torture, was instrumental in the formation of MK (mind kontrol in the German) Ultra, and standards for the AMA and CDC, assisting the Rothschilds with that morass of coffin nails for what remained any real possibilities of wellness extant for the American people. Sugar and wheat created the foundation of the fix addictions stepped in to fill. Now devices, WiFi, apps, geoengineering, GMOs and mass MK Ultra and transhumanism push people like lemmings over their edges: over the ledge. It’s a plan. The elite long game.
But, I digress.

When I was in nursing school, I learned in Anatomy and Physiology (actually, I have taken that very course THREE times, with a nearly 4.0 grade: in 12th grade as an honors Biology class, in my early 30’s at the community college for transfer to University of Maryland School of Nursing, and then once more because ten years had elapsed and I had not gotten the sheepskin degree yet, although I worked in private care nursing, mostly palliative, end-of-life hospice care… now I refuse to do the remaining clinical for my BSN because I will not participate in that industry of lies and death) that the body self-regulates and will shunt off nutrients to the building of the placenta if the developing baby gives off a spectrum of nonfamilial identity blueprint. That the body will stop nourishing it and reject and EJECT the unwanted pregnancy if it is faulted. That this does not happen always, apparently hence the birth of infants with genetic abnormalities… or are these teratogenic only? I believe that IS the case: that it is the mutated genes damaged by the miscegenated DNA from the eons of activities of the fallen angels and the waste they have worked at destroying earth and God’s people with which are the reason for miscarriages. The parasitic serpent seed sin in us. #detoxplease

But in the case of first pregnancies, perhaps it is the Creator’s way of clearing the deck, so to speak, to make way for the child He intended to be conceived in the womb of the mother from the seed HE chose the lineage of. I had a miscarriage before my daughter was conceived, and I was alone and it was awful. I was 18 and quite lost then, post-Forever Family cult, reeling from the trauma of our childhood and its continuance in my brothers lives which I was unable to put an end to, as my parents and the system (see Second Segment above, a partial accounting) were more than I could change. The baby I lost was not from the man I married’s seed: it was an error, a sin of fornication product. I believe wholeheartedly that everything happened because it had to then. This is The Law of God.

My heart literally goes out to the parents of this child who stayed behind the veil and is with the Creator. His ways are perfect.

“LOVE IS STRONGER THAN DEATH.” – Jesus, The Essene Gospels

Oh, and if you are not already, get off all dairy, STAT. IT ALL HAS LUNGWORMS (THREADWORMS). That’s what mucus is. Period.

#detoxplease

Namasté ❤

Postscript: P. Knight, the queen is dead 🙂

Tags: detox,sorcery,strong delusion,say brave things,Spring Grove State Hospital,CIA,Timothy Leary, Richard Alpert,Ram Dass,satanic ritual abuse,child abuse,trauma,PTSD,CPTSD,narcissism,news,gaslighting,gangstalking,MK Ultra,Catonsville,hacking malware trojans and government computer surveillance,CERN,whistleblower,true history,Children Of The Light,Essene,cymatics,heart,spirit,strong delusion,sorcery

© EATING TO ASCEND – THE ASCENSION DIET 2019
@EatingToAscend http://eatingtoascend.com

#detoxplease

CHILDREN ARE NOT BABY GOATS – THEY ARE LITTLE LAMBS

 

August 1, 2019

It is possible that no one has realized the deception caused by this word “kids” in regard to our children.

OUR CHILDREN ARE NOT BABY GOATS – THEY ARE LITTLE LAMBS

It was this past Spring when I realized that calling children “kids” was not good, and why this is so. What is a kid, exactly? A kid is a baby goat. When did this become a part of our Western culture? With the Baby Boomer post-WWII generation, with its growing emphasis on pop culture unleashed through the programming of television, radio and print advertising. The “kids” were the new generation doing shocking things, and shaking things up for the “old goats”, their parents and grandparents.  Hidden-hand agendas have created the movements introducing the elements into youth culture since the advent of the advertising age, the Roaring Twenties. It is the continuing series of plots carried out to deconstruct mankind’s meaning. The word “kids” as a term for children was injected into vernacular by the “ad men”, who received their seasonal agendas from the higher ups of corporate boards. Their directives come from governments, and all governments are Luciferian, the nephilim who speak in the language of witchcraft, putting spells on people through symbols, words, music, products, all food, drink and medicines, and all water and now air, thanks to their geoengineering. With 5G they control the airwaves completely, and are ready to drop us with that military technology of low frequency waves. They’ll do it when people begin to lose all sensibility when the grid goes down due to Nibiru’s presence now.

But we can understand this: YOUNG HUMANS ARE NOT BABY GOATS. THEY ARE NOT SATAN’S KIDS.

HUMAN CHILDREN ARE LITTLE LAMBS OF THE MOST HIGH GOD. We are sheep, not goats. Baphomet is the goat! This deception ends right here!

“Go; behold, I send you out as lambs in the midst of wolves.” – Luke 2:13

BaphometStatueFinished The Illuminati’s devious schemes are so myriad they’re uncountable; BUT THEY WILL BE HELD ACCOUNTABLE FOR THEIR EVILS AT JUDGEMENT. Their referring to children as kids was placed into the American language by all mass media forces to elevate Baphomet as their parent and destroy their true identity as children of the Most High Creator God.

Now that you know this, you can stop saying it, and share this gnowledge (Gnosis = knowing – they even stripped that of meaning) with others. This is something so undebatable, UNDENIABLE and OBVIOUSLY true that once you learn it, you’ll apply it. We are freeing each other together from bondage because in these last days new gnowledge is being revealed.

With love, namasté.

Tags: advertising,all governments are nephilim,baphomet,brainwashing,children,CIA,deception,family,goat,kid,lamb,language,lucifer,programming,sheep,vernacular

© EATING TO ASCEND – THE ASCENSION DIET 2019
@EatingToAscend http://eatingtoascend.com

KEY POINT HEALTH, THE DOTS JUST KEEP ON CONNECTING

In an earlier post, I referred to the Baltimore County government auspices “counselling service” where the LCSW/RN I saw, a Lori B. (a three-syllable Polish name beginning with word for rear end and ending with a rhyme for witch with a vril letter, who used FLOW CHARTS CREATED BY THE ALPHABET AGENCIES TO MAKE ME FIT A PATTERN OF DEFINITION AND ACTIONS THEY MANDATED.
They destroyed my family, tearing each of us apart with lies.
Lori, I found out from another ex-clientvictim last year was actually an unmarried Catholic lesbian who had never had children, lived with another woman, and yet “counselled” me to make mine leave the home when they each turned eighteen. This tore apart what existed of the fabric of the tapestry of our small family already distorted by the trauma systems.
Remember that the Men In Black came to my high school FIVE TIMES in my twelfth grade to recruit me. Only me, out of 1,200 students. Read this.

Now I learn that KEYPOINT IS AN MKULTRA MI6 CIA PROGRAM which continued my specialization alters begun in infancy by my own parents, early MKUltra incarnate.
At 59 years, I am the oldest living VMAT2 ICE, sorry, Jean/Gene sister. You definitely look younger than me! ❤

Please keep deep diving in your memories, brethren.

Namaste ❤

Tags: alter, AMA, assassin, child abuse, CIA, CPTSD, DID, flow chart, government mental health, human cloning centers, Human Rights, illuminati Luciferian, KEY POINT HEALTH, MIND CONTROL, MKUltra, programming, Rockefeller, Rothschild, satanic ritual abuse, trauma

© EATING TO ASCEND – THE ASCENSION DIET 2019
@EatingToAscend http://eatingtoascend.com

Follow link below to full article – READ. Share.

https://videopress.com/embed/jdJKTFVe?hd=0&autoPlay=0&permalink=0&loop=0

I have written elsewhere about the depravity of the Central Intelligence Agency and how they seek to destroy everything beautiful, good, and noble. What They Want To Take From Us (part one) What They Want To Take From Us (part two) I have also written about CIA’s use of Playboy & their abuse of Playmates. […]

via WHAT THEY WANT TO TAKE FROM US: SHARRY KONOPSKI – TOUGH AS TITANIUM — Fighting Monarch

Jordan Peterson and the Jewish Question

I addressed this issue directly in my blogpost a few weeks ago entitled This Post Is The Mystery They Hid.

The issue being who really are the Ashkenazi jews.
Note that the etymology of Annunaki and Ashkenazi is very similar when spoken with a hebrew accent…

The entire premise of this so-called hatred of “the jewish people” is a manipulation via controlled opposition tactics of subterfuge and redirection. The original jewish people were the bloodline descended directly from Adam, and then Seth. Adam’s first son Abel was murdered by the son his wife Eve had, who she was impregnated with by Satan AKA Lucifer, who had taken the form of the serpent and beguiled her, made her pregnant. Cain’s DNA reflects his serpent seed genetics, which is why his bloodline was hated, and not included when Noah and his family, the only untainted lineage of Adam, filled the ark.

The war has been going on for a very long time.

The ancient texts, cuniforms, carvings, artifacts, scrolls, plates and engraving, dating back as many as 360,000 years, all address and corroborate this fact; what I just explained here again. The elite rulers of this world have never deviated from their plan to hide the evidence, in plain sight, with influence, deception, and occulted (hidden) truth. They rewrite history and teach lies.

All humanity has experienced is a massive cover-up.

When the catholic church removed sixteen books from the bible, they removed the last vestiges of reference to what I just wrote, above. You can read them, though, for free, online. Educate yourself.

For starters, read this, below this paragraph, in its entirety. Forget the hype over the author’s name and reputation (he has been smeared, as all truthers are… ahem, me, for instance), and imagine you are listening, because it is definitely written from the hip and in a speaking voice! Then you will understand the mystery they hid, and what is going on. I urge you to do this. I am casting pearls here. And if you choose to be lazy and not read, because “it’s too long”, or you are made lazy by being spoon-fed videos, I can’t help you besides the prayers I send for all those who refuse to learn and free themselves.

Steve Quayle’s related story with research sent to him by ex-alphabet geneticist who was asked by an elite to validate his DNA <—whistleblower

Life as an investigator…is ‘like a box of chocolates’. -INTELLIGENCE SOURCE -THIS IS WHAT GOT US THROWN OFF THE AIR LAST NIGHT

Life as an investigator…is “like a box of chocolates”.

Part I

An investigator friend was telling me a story I can easily relate to…one time, he says….”I left home on a lazy Saturday evening to grab some comfort food, I told the wife “I’ll be right back” as my dog having heard the car key’s jingle, dutifully pushed his way through the door to assist me on my mission, he instinctively knew I’d forget his doggie treats if he wasn’t right there to assist me. Minutes later, as I was walking out of the store with my booty, I saw a man who I’d been searching for as the subject of a complex embezzlement scheme, he was walking to a rented moving van and towing his classic car on a trailer behind it. Nine days and 3,500 miles later…I completed my fieldwork and handed the investigation over to several Federal Agencies on what had now become a Federal case. I returned home to my very distraught bride of six months…we were supposed to have left on our already twice delayed honeymoon cruise the previous Sunday morning. We didn’t have cell phones in those days and I didn’t have a radio in my personal car, my handheld was on the charger at home when I’d gone on my quick trip. My first call came during a brief fuel stop at four AM the next morning, the hurried explanations fell on incredulously deaf ears; between her astonished and uncharacteristically numerous expletives. For some months I’d been telling her, ‘third time’s a charm’…guess I was wrong, again! she was NOT…amused.”

He concluded his hour long story stating very matter of factley…”I guess I…sort of, understand why she divorced me…I sure do miss her.” “He then proceeded to explain how this life lesson had led him to understand one of his many ‘Laws of Investigations’ which…like a box of chocolates…come in no particular order, and are only predictable, in their unpredictability.”

I then proceeded to break what is now one of ‘MY’ laws, never ask this guy a question, without having first taken a bathroom break! He tends to be pretty long winded…but the stories are generally worth it. I asked; “What are some of the other laws you’ve come up with?”, I knew the moment the words came out of my mouth, I should have restricted my question to just one law…hard to do with good chocolate’s.

Without breaking stride he says,…”Belief is the driver of action”; and proceeded into another long and winding story, in order to give me his history for the law.

“About 20 years ago” (Oh Boy, my first clue…this was gonna take a while!), “I had recently completed my latest physics project at a location that uses a number for a name. A colleague from my time as an Air Force OSI agent, specializing in advanced sciences and technology, had heard I was heading to England for a long overdue vacation and asked me if I’d volunteer to help him while I was there. He needed a witness on a simple mission to collect some evidence,…unwittingly, I said ‘sure, no problem’. (Oh nuts; I’d just violated a law every service member knows all too well…NEVER VOLUNTEER! The smallest chocolates are always the ones with the nut’s…usually).”

“We went to a private city within the city, security was well concealed, but omnipresent to a trained eye. We went to a private office and met with a man whom I later came to know as a member of one of the wealthiest families on the planet. He talked with us briefly about funding for a scientific investigation my friend was going to pursue. He invited us to dine with him at his residence later in the evening. In the interim my friend proceeded to tell me how the man had apparently had an NDE (Near Death Experience) during a medical procedure. He’d apparently had a Pauline like Angelic encounter, during which ‘opaque and serpent-like scales had fallen from his eyes, in the presence of a Divine Messenger! Layer after layer of lies and deceptions dissolved before him. At its conclusion he came to believe his entire life was one big rubber-band roll of tangled lies…every new one bigger than the last. He’d resolved to turn to a new ‘Way’ and set out to change his life; and the world.”

“After dinner, we collected blood, tissue, hair and oral swabs. He’d recently had a dental procedure and had saved a tooth, which he dutifully preserved in a small paper bag in his freezer. I videotaped the collection process as the evidence was bagged and tagged.”

“On the plane ride back State-side, my friend who at the time was one of the most knowledgeable DNA researchers on the planet…pulled out the biggest piece of mental-Jerkey I’ve ever gnawed on! His benefactor/test-subject, ‘believed’ that while most of the ‘Son’s of Adam’ had double strand DNA, he had been told by his family that he and his blood relatives were distinctly different and that he, like his fathers’ before him had triple strand DNA. He wanted my friend to secretly prove once and for all if this was true…or not. The subject claimed that his extended family and their cousins, who are kings, queens, princes and princesses, as well as leader’s of industry and banking worldwide; believe they are children of an other-worldly race of ‘Humanoid Being’s.’ He’d been taught by his tutor’s that once upon a time, his Ancestors had fallen to earth after some Cosmic Calamity in the time before…the Garden. He believed that while their ‘Ancestral Mother was Eve…their Ancestral father was not Adam!’ He was torn to know if a ‘Child of Cain’ was actually genetically different and whether he could he be saved?”

“My friend never got the money for his investigative research as the donor was found dead in his apartment a short while later. The death was ruled a suicide by hanging, even though his feet were found to be barely touching the floor when he was discovered…very strange.”

“My friend’s wife gave me all of his research and notes upon his own untimely death some years later…leading me to bite into another chocolate in the ‘Law of Investigation’s” box…’Fact is often…stranger than fiction’…!”

Part II

“The beginning of a previously unexpected trip…’down the rabbit’s hole’!”

My investigator friend continued his tale after my return from an overdue bathroom break.

“It was a long plane ride home…the funeral had been difficult for me, losing a close friend at such a young age was not easy. Because of the nature of his work…and mine, our talks had mostly been cryptic and necessarily, too few; and too far between. His young wife had only been with him a short while. Much of his early years and most of his real life were completely hidden from her, need to know type stuff; and she didn’t, so she didn’t.

Flash drives weren’t common then, a removable hard drive sat in the open brief case on the seat next to me in what originally had been a box for Christmas Cards. A lone card sat on top of the unusual assortment of contents, it pictured a cat who had apparently licked the socket of a strand of Christmas lights that it’s owner was stringing atop a tree. It was a snowy setting, in front of a festively lit home. The cat was amusingly adorned in a tangle of colored lights as it hung midair between the starry heavens and it’s hell; every limb painfully extended in a different direction and every hair standing on end under the shock of electrocution. A similarly shocked dad was teetering atop of his now tipping ladder next to a window where small children and the wife, mouths agape, watched helplessly. An old hound dog laid on the porch nearby, barely raising one eye to take in the entertainment. With the Crowning Star of David blazing brightly in his hand, only moments from the completion of his task, dad was now headed on a previously unexpected trip…and so was I.

Although the sticky note affixed to the top of the box stated simply…’Juan O. Saven’, an operational code name I was once known by, the card when opened stated my Christian name simply, with the following brief message, “Do what you do, I’ll expect a complete report when you get here, since if your reading this, I’ve already gone ahead” He signed the card “Slowpoke”. That was a name I had given him once, when we were young and brimming over with life…and innocence. Reading the note, my eyes uncontrollably, began to tear up…I suddenly felt much, much older, and alone. I dwelt on the card, his note and our very unusual lives, for the rest of my long trip home; good friends, old friends, aren’t easy to come by…

When I arrived in my city, I was very backed up in my work and I couldn’t really look at what I had for some time. For one thing, I didn’t immediately know how to access the hard drive and when I did, the information was password protected and he seemingly hadn’t included a password with the box. It was quite some time later that it occurred to me that he actually had, and that was the true reason for the catchy card at the top of the box…yeah, he was right and I WAS slow.

It was all there, his contacts, his drawings and descriptions. His technical analysis was not easy to read; but I had enough (more than general) knowledge, to follow his work. He’d traveled covertly to meet with specialists, including one Nobel Lauriet to get their opinion of his observations and analysis. He’d even met with some very prominent religious authorities of varied beliefs, to get their take on the possible implications of what he believed he had found. He was exceedingly careful and always traveled under some other ‘role and purpose’ and only as a peripheral inquiry brought his real questions to bear; conscious of the dangerous sensitivity of the subject at hand.

Near the end of his notes I came to a page titled “Conclusions” followed by these lines:

“This is a Murder Investigation” which was then followed on a separate line written all in capitals “OF MURDER, BY A SERIAL MURDERER”. He then went into several pages of a long diatribe of identifiers and details that only recently have begun to make sense to me.

Under a new heading, “Follow the Blood Trail”

At first he noted that the DNA strands he was examining seemed to be wound more tightly than normal, you see there are normally ten rungs per complete twist of the Double Helix strand in normal Human DNA. In his analysis of our Subject’s DNA taken from his blood samples, he found intermittent sections which appeared to be wound more tightly, with only nine rungs per complete twist, nine being an unusual and noteworthy number, always turning and returning to itself. (I thought to myself, that doesn’t seem to be that unusual…everybody I KNOW seems like they’re wound to tight.)

Simultaneously he observed and documented what he at first believed to be, the foretold third strand of the Subject’s DNA. Upon closer analysis he came to an entirely different and unexpected conclusion, our Subject had been lied to, IT WASN’T A THIRD STRAND AT ALL! It was a silvery threadlike, semi-transparent, serpentine-like parasite of infinitesimally small proportions. He observed that it was entangled intermittently hoping back and forth between the normal Double Helix strands, it appeared to him that as the parasite grew it continued to wrap itself like a bean or Ivy type vine plant will attach itself to any available protrusion. Unlike a normal snake or worm, this parasite had little hook like protrusions that did seem to lend themselves to a gripping type attachment all along the strand, his notes described them as alligator or dragon feet, but only for his amusement, not because they were that actual form. Occasionally, he noted that it appeared that some of the threaded parasites seemed to connect to adjacent parasites creating what appeared to be tiny nets.

In his notes, my friend penned some personal thoughts after having considered his observations and the source of his DNA materials. He thought of the Vatican’s pronouncements that the Aliens are our Cousins and the Vishnu teachings of a time when god’s flew in spaceships and destroyed whole cities in a single blast. He even had notes about Elijah being caught up in a Chariot of Fire! Maybe he had misread, or misunderstood the entire history of his Bible! Maybe…from Genesis to Revolutions…it was about some far more tangible and real Fallen Angel Alien Cousins, than the ghost like destroying angels he’d always pictured in his imaginations. He gazed at ‘it’ and studied ‘it’ in shocked disbelief and asked to himself, “is this pathetic little blood-sucking worm, the tiny origin of the tyrannical destroyer of so many lives and worlds? But he could not escape the fact that small as it were, the DNA strands that it/they were attached to…WERE JUST AS SMALL! And both had the informational encoding to make ‘Good…or Evil!’ Yes, the DNA, and the serpentine creature entangled in it potentially bore the information/knowledge/blueprint to create good or evil”

My investigator friend continued, “I remembered the time I had sat with a hard cold desk under my arms, as I stared back into the false, Cheshire grin surrounding that mouthful of fake pearly whites. ‘He’ was starring me down from his ‘Star Chamber Seat’; waiting for my answer from in front of the concealing screen which provided me only partial anonymity from the rest of the gallery. You see he thought he’d caught me in a lie, with what I had told his ‘in house investigator’, but his investigator’s authorizations and clearances were not the same as the Senator’s…I replied, ‘As you know Senator, the lie is different at every level!’ and so it was, and so shall it always be, in this life anyway; from the highest Thrones in this world, and now, here again, right down to the tiniest strands of DNA, it’s lies, lies, lies all the way down! The truth is, the so called third strand of DNA that somehow could make ‘THEM’ superior was just another lie from the ‘father of lies’. In the end it was just another lecherous parasitic alien hitchhiker on the road of life, trying to deceive the vulnerable into forfeiting their birthright for a bag of magic beans!”

“My friend tried and was trying at the time of his death to determine if there was a way to separate the writhing and griping entanglements of the demon seed’s form, from the host DNA without destroying the host. He also speculated on possible ways to identify the Reptilian’s Host’s who walk among us while living in the grip of The Reptilian Seed’s Alien Possession.”

“It was here that I began my work, picking up where my friend had too abruptly left off.”

“Deep in my thoughts” my friend continued “Once again, I’d reached into life’s box of chocolates. Interesting thing” he noted, “There’s usually some chocolate covered jellies with red colored sprinkles on top, in life’s little box o’ chocolates, and I like those, but this time, it seemed like I’d reached instead for the three pastel colored, hard shell, candy coated nuts at the center of the box. I did remember clearly, that it seemed like just as I closed my eyes and started to munch, I began to feel dizzy and for only a moment…before I felt myself begin to spin and teeter over, and down…into the Rabbit’s hole!

Part III

“To Serve Man…”

There are three more ‘laws of investigation’ my investigator friend brought to my attention and he then began quoting them to me. Pellegrino, Powell and Sir Issac Asimov penned the “Three Laws of Alien Behavior:”

Law No. 1

Their survival will be more important than our survival.

If an alien species has to choose between them and us, they won’t choose us. It is difficult to imagine a contrary case; species don’t survive by being self-sacrificing.

Law No. 2

Wimps don’t become top dogs.

No species makes it to the top by being passive. The species in charge of any given planet will be highly intelligent, alert, aggressive, and ruthless when necessary.

Law No. 3

‘They’ will assume that the first two laws apply to ‘us’.

My friend told me how his dizzying mental fall was eventually arrested by a very hard floor. In the mixed box of ‘Investigator’s laws’, my friend calls life, those three pastel colored, candy coated chocolate covered nuts…apparently? can be some very hard pills to swallow.

He told me…”Doug!”, rousing me like a freight train…”Doug, it hit me like the hard ground we’re standing on! It’s all around us; everywhere! They think of us like Alien’s, but they’re the Alien’s! Don’t you get it?! They’re laughing at us. They ‘THINK’ they’re the children of Space Aliens from another world, marooned on this tiny blue orb. They’re just doing time till they can figure a way off this rock so they can get back up to their Death-Star Moon Ship; figure out how to fix it, and head back home to mommy!”

I sat there, listening as he talked. I looked at the heart shaped Valentine’s box of chocolates I’d given my wife earlier in the week, sure enough when I opened it (she hadn’t eaten any yet, but she had humored me with a perfunctory, ‘it’s the thought that counts’ and a peck on the cheek. I guess it’s some kinda’ high brow female, smarter than everyone else, non-fat thing.), anyway, sure enough…there they were, the delightfully showcased Evil Omen’s! just as described by my friend…three large, pastel colored, candy coated and chocolate covered nuts, just as my friend described! Forewarned is forearmed, that’s what I say…I picked a safe, fat and round soft chocolate; or two, before I put the lid back on the box. I wasn’t ready to drink the Kool-Aid yet, but I also wasn’t shutting him down either.

He continued, “See, the way I see it, it’s all about the blood, they marry and inter-marry to keep the Alien Blood pure. That’s why all the incestuousness in these elites Royal Cliques, they’re keeping it all in the family.” He then explained how he’d found that this guy and that girl were actually related to some other guy who wasn’t the guy we were all lied to about, that was so and so’s official father, or mother. After a while it actually started to make some kinda’ sense…or maybe the blood-sugar was just starting to kick in and make me a little tipsy. Anyway; whatever; I lazily thought to myself.

I starred off into space, deep in my hypo-glycemicially induced, contemplative thoughts. On the shelve beside the TV in my den an old VHS video box sat, it’s title staring back at me, ‘I Was A Zombie, for the FBI’. It’s a campy 80’s black and white ‘B’ movie some college kids made about some brother’s who discover some sunglasses that when worn, allow them to see Alien’s masquerading as humans and plotting to destroy the real humans and take over the earth. A more well known movie version is “They Live.” As I adjusted my reading glasses, I had a few new thoughts of my own…what if?…What IF?!

Then, rousing me again, out of my darkness, with his now booming voice, my investigator friend said ‘IT’! And then he said ‘IT’ again, and more slowly and decisively…and just then, ‘IT’ struck me, ‘IT’ struck me, like a silver bullet to my politically in-corrected brain! The haze half-cleared, and for a long moment…I realized exactly what he’d been trying to say all along, the clouding scales began to fall from my eyes also; just as they had for our Subject in his NDE (I briefly thought, ‘am I on the verge of my own diabetic induced coma? Perhaps like our original subject, I was having an NDE of my own.)

I reached for the water on the table beside me, but it was actually the grand kids Kool-Aid, I drank it anyway as I thought to myself, It doesn’t really matter what I believe! It doesn’t matter what the lying facts say! It doesn’t matter what any technical analysis reveals! It doesn’t even matter what the religious sages thought; or believe!

It only matters ‘what THEY believe!’; because our original subject and his relatives, who are king’s, queen’s, princes and princesses, as well as leader’s of industry and banking worldwide believe (and act as though) they are children of an other-worldly race of ‘Humanoid Being’s’; but not Human only…Hybrid Human…More than Human…Superior Alien Human’s!

Our subject and his kin had been taught by their families and tutor’s that once upon a time, ‘Their’ Ancestors had fallen to earth after some cosmic calamity in the time before…the Garden. He believed that while their ‘Ancestral Mother was Eve…their Ancestral father was not Adam!’ THEY BELIEVE that they are our ‘Humanoid Cousins’…Superior Hybrid’s, half Alien and only half Human. They once reined from Olympus and were Pharaohs. Whatever the real truth of their history, their “belief is the Driver of their Actions!” Being the true believers, they are, they will continue to operate in accordance with their belief, and the laws of Alien/Darwinian type survival. That’s why they interbreed, to maintain the purity of the Bloodline, that’s why they secretly meet and connive to pass power between themselves; and that’s why they must fool the rest of mankind into wars of self destruction and debt, so that we may be forever enslaved to their lusts, on this ‘Prison Planet’; till death do us part. More than afraid, they know in their hearts…this is a fight for survival…THE fight for survival!

It had begun, just as my friend had said, as “a Murder Investigation”, starting with the first Murder when that Luciferian Demon Dad, had first whispered of the Evil deed to his willing child…Cain! It continued down through time, the Son’s of Adam fighting for survival and destroying the Alien Giant’s in Cainan Land…David and the Hybrid Goliath, and his four hybrid brothers. And all the hidden true believer’s since…hiding in plain sight, so powerful, so important…so, so afraid.

I was reminded how in the mountains of Afghanistan the people would say their cousin lives on the other side of that mountain; then in the next breath, remind you that the word for cousin…is interchangeably the same word meaning enemy.

Interchangeably?!? These earth-bound, half cousins of ours, continue to laugh, but it is a nervous laugh at that! As they have a joke or two at our expense; recreating their Lying Father’s ‘fall to earth’ and flashing their heretofore secret gang sign/hand signs to each other, right in our face. I know now how dangerous their beliefs are, because they are being driven by their beliefs, taught to them by their real alleged father…the Father of Lies. And even now he knows The Truth and whispers in his initiates ears just as he first did in Cain’s ear…the ‘Son’s of Adam’ as long as they live…are dangerous.

Just then my friend began to cite another Law, stating, “And when your finally out of chocolates, it’s time to make stew!” I begged his indulgence for a few minutes as I wandered down the hall to the restroom. I was wondering to myself, ‘where did I leave my ladder? I gotta get outta’ this rabbit’s hole before the bad guys figure out there’s no rabbits for the rabbit stew they’re dreaming up for their caldron. They might decide to change cookbooks to suit whatever else they might find’…’Ummm yes, there it is’, I thought, they’d thought…”To Serve Man”.

Feb 21, 2013

Shortlink https://bit.ly/2DScuF3

 

 

 

Smartdust Nanotechnology, 5G, Project Cloverleaf Geoengineering, Mind Control

WICKEDNESS IN HIGH PLACES.
Take 13 minutes and pay attention.

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