NASA & the CIA

Ok, so at about this point somebody will begin to ask me all about me, now that what I've said is so greatly controversial. Well, if I was anywhere online they would.

Why should anyone believe that I had anything to do with NASA or the CIA? Just for example. Of course they didn't give me an ID card or anything, being as I was non-official, and not that I really ever understood anything about the CIA except as a victim. Not that they ever really told me anything. They just sort of messed with my head and sent me on the fast track to hell.

So, as I said starting out, I haven't a stitch of proof about the CIA involvement. There may be some recoverable fingerprints that they left behind somewhere, but for our purposes here I would be hard pressed to prove that I had anything to do with anything but the mental hospital. Fine. No problem. After 20 years I'm used to that.

My storey doesn't have any of the usual elements, you know, spooks in trench coats meeting around some street lamp in the middle of the foggy night. No microfilm being passed around, but lets just face it, they have ways that are so much better these days, beginning with the SDI electromagnetic/microwave weapons, hereafter referred to as E-weapons.

Well, and it's not as though there was a whole lot of anything very legitimate going on anyway, not as though my supposed membership in either of these rather exclusive clubs was anything but was told to me somewhere along the line. For all I really know those were just deceptions to get me to work hard at being mind controlled as the patriotic hard working American that I am and used to be.

Now, I'm going to skip over a lot of distracting details so that I can stick to these issues for the moment. After being mercilessly gang stalked there was a meeting in late February of 1987 which took place in, of all places, the television set! Let me see if I can explain this, my experience.

Now at the time, I'd been gang stalked really, really hard for about six weeks before NASA stepped in as my supposed saviors. By the time that happened I couldn't have told you who was president, what year it was, and I could barely remember my own name. So of course it didn't immediately occur to me that I was set up for this, that the gang stalking was simply to traumatize me sufficiently in order to be mind controlled, and to have me welcome MKULTRA with open arms. But, you know, at that moment not only was I not thinking clearly, pretty much all I wanted to do was die, and for some strange reason I thought, well, that I could die later if this NASA thing didn't work out.

This is how it happened: At about the point that I'm moments away from ending it all, some woman comes onto the television and begins talking to me. Me. The TV was just on during this, and now there was some talk show format thing going on in front of me and they sort of stopped everything else they were doing and the woman began to refer to me as if I were right there in the live audience. She announced to me, me, that if I was willing NASA could help. NASA. Wow. The same people who once made special suits for some children who were allergic to sun rays. The same people who are considered to be about the most brilliant on the planet. And what did I really have to lose?

At that point they introduced a woman that they said was a psychic that worked for NASA. And she really did, for whatever the real reasons might have been, seem to know all about me and what was going on in my life. I was told that this was all happening to me because I was gifted, and it wasn't going to be easy, but if I wanted NASA's help they could stitch my poor beleaguered mind back together with a little mind control. But that I would essentially have to volunteer.

They said that they could actually see and hear me through my television and a very slow dialog took place, very slow because it took something like a full minute or so for them to receive messages this way. I was very self conscious because apparently they could see me in the studio, it was live TV, and if I took very long to think about anything it meant dead air time, as if the whole world was waiting just for me to make up my mind.

While at the time I thought that all of this was taking place on nationwide TV, though thinking back on it it was probably just local to the Los Angeles area in which I lived. So the painfully slow dialog began to shape up sort of like this. I said that I really didn't know what to think of mind control, it seemed pretty spooky to me, but if they could tell me more about it that under the circumstances I would consider it. They seemed pleased. The psychic woman then asked me to just speak to the TV about how I felt about all of this or something to that effect, and so I began to ponder all of this out loud, and I stated that, well, and by that point I felt sort of tranced out in addition to being overwhelmed six ways to Sunday, and I began to express my thoughts about mind control to the NASA psychic woman who I was just sure could hear my every thought anyway. Here was a chance to work for NASA, for Christ's sake, so I didn't want to be dishonest on what was hopefully kind sorta like my application.

My thoughts of the moment were that I really didn't trust mind control, I'd heard some pretty nasty things. But that if they could tell me more about this secret program and convince me that it was a good thing, that it seemed to me that I had little to lose at that point. But I didn't want to be placed in a position where I lost control of myself.

Then I told them that if I discovered that it was a bad thing, this mind control business, that I would have to work against it. They sort of asked me how I would go about that. So I told them that, well, I would act as a private investigator on behalf of congress, knowing that my life would be more or less entrusted to the executive branch, the CIA. The only way that I would proceed was if they informed congress, the media, and Interpol about all of this, and that I would endeavor to investigate all of this and make some kind of future report about whatever I learned about mind control to congress, whether the experience was a good one or a bad one. And that they would sort of have to let me know somehow that they'd informed these parties. They smiled politely and sort of said that they didn't see a problem with any of that. Wonderful! Now I won't kill myself, but if I end up missing or dead everyone will know why.  At the time it seemed like a workable plan. Part of the point of declaring myself to be a private investigator for congress was that they would eventually get my bill. $200 dollars a day plus expenses, which owing to The Rockford Files television show I thought to be the going rate. Hey, this was looking better and better.

They agreed to all of this, and after that a whole really strange but wonderful world opened up to me right there on television. Of course mind control NASA matters are pretty hush-hush, so a tone of not so obvious signals were sent to me via media events that had some identifier, as though they were still talking to me through these events.

How to describe this? Was Interpol informed? During the first days they did some quick interviews with sports people from around the world who seemed both really friendly and somewhat informed as to what to say. But as if they were talking to a really sad situation, and a charity case, me. Was congress informed? Sort of the same thing, different congress people began to speak as if they were coyly referring to my situation in a very kind sort of way. Was the president informed? They asked me how I would like to know that the president had been informed, you know, in a subtle hush-hush sort of way. For some reason I thought of sports, perhaps because of the Interpol verification, and I thought that it should be something really, really unusual, something so bizarre that it couldn't have just happened, and something that would have to be explained to the president before he would agree to it, but if it all was really that important, and he was informed, and I had his support in this, that he would do something very unexpected like, take a basketball to congress and say "I've come to play some basketball". When that finally happened, I was not only convinced, I was bowled over.

Now to be clear here, remember my credentials as a perennial temporary resident of the psychiatric ward. And of course, in retrospect, any of these events might have been staged to make me think that all parties were informed. But what was most convincing was that the press seemed to be actively involved on an ongoing basis, if similarly in that hush-hush slight of hand manner.

Once this was accomplished, that I felt satisfied that my initial requirements were met, they began to explain more about mind control. An MKULTRA storey appeared in the news, letting me, and perhaps others know that this was the program I was entering in to for the purposes outlined above. After that I was, via television programming, and possibly, though I wouldn't have known it at the time, in conjunction with E-weapons, entered into a profound and ongoing state of hypnotic trance.

More about this later....