Tuesday, May 29, 2012

A New Criminal Group Wants To Get Rid of Me!

The person of real interest was not Debbie or as she preferred, Deborah. The man sitting on my right just didn't belong in the club. He was probably 20 years older than the average patron and he claimed to be from out of town. He said he was from Missouri and he belonged to some farmers group that was having problems with the government. As I listened, I couldn't help but think he was some sort of federal agent. Whoever he was, he just didn't fit in the club atmosphere and I left the Castaway club that night wondering why I had run into him.
A couple of days later, I picked up the local newspaper and stared at the headlines. There had been a big drug raid at the Castaway Club and the band members, including my friend Dave, had been arrested for dealing drugs. It really didn't surprise me because Paducah was a party town since it was the major city in the only "wet" county in the area. All surrounding counties had strict laws against the serving of liquor in any form. And the couple of times I had been I Froggy's, I was sure this one man I conversed with was selling drugs and I suspected drugs were being sold in another club I seldom visited. What surprised me was that all four band members had been arrested.
The raid and the arrests took place within 6 months or less from when I started visiting the Castaway Club. I surmised that the federal agents following me around(after all, I was so dangerous!) probably stumbled upon the drug sales in the club. I knew that everywhere I went, I had federal agents right behind me and I'll relate a story to demonstrate that later.
Within a few days of the announcement of the drug arrests, several friends told me that someone had fingered me as the informant about the drug dealings. It would be easy for someone to conclude that since as I pointed out the drug raid took place several months after I started frequenting the place. And, I had no doubts that the low-life federal agents would gladly identify me as the informant as a way to keep me stressed and possibly get rid of me for good. Having drug dealers after you in addition to the federal gestapo agents would be enough to stress out anyone.
Apparently rumors of death threats against me became so real that whenever I went out after the drug raid I had to be extra cautious. I started frequenting the Executive Inn after the drug raids at the Castaway Club. I had a friend there too who was a guitar playing entertainer and we would sometimes get together and chat during his breaks. What made the Executive Inn different was a unique construction where the first three floors were a typical concrete parking garage and then the upper levels consisted of the lounge, the dinning room, the reception area and the hotel rooms. The reason for this design was because the Executive Inn had been built on the outside of the Paducah flood walls which protected the city from the Ohio river which frequently flooded. What this meant for me was that I had to park in a dimly lit concrete garage. And everyone has seen the TV show or movie scene where someone gets gunned down walking to their car!
It turns out that my popularity because of my "psychic" abilities became very helpful. I would go into the Executive Inn, find a vacant table and sit down. Within a half hour, the table would be full with four or more acquaintances and they would all sit there until I got up to leave for the evening. When I got leave, several women stood up and offered to escort me to my car! I would walk down to my car with 4-6 women surrounding me. It seemed unlikely that the drug dealers would gun me down under those conditions. I would get into my car, thank the women and then drive home.
What a way to live and I am sure the scumbag federal agents loved it. I always seemed strange to me that most people liked me and my only real enemies were drug dealers, fascist gestapo agents and psychopaths. As the saying goes, YOU CAN TELL A LOT ABOUT A PERSON BY WHO HIS ENEMIES ARE. When you think about it, my enemies reveal a lot about me.

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

My Name is not Debbie

Unfortunately, Joan had to leave Paducah as a result of the local company she worked for being sold to a national chain. That meant her job as a computer programmer was no longer needed and since there were not many jobs for computer programmers in the area, she decided she had to move to North Carolina where there were more technical jobs and where she had relatives to help her relocate. That meant that I had more free time on my hands.

It was a typical Wednesday night in Paducah and I headed to a local lounge to listen to my favorite band in the area. When I entered the club, I headed for a chair at the bar in the back. Since I was a little tired of having a group of people crowd me when I sat down at a table, I decided to sit in an area and seat where I was somewhat isolated. I grabbed a vacant seat located near the end of the bar between a middle aged man who looked out of place, and an attractive young woman.

I sat there about ten minutes listening to the music and then the band decided to take a break. The guitar player Dave, hopped off the stage, cut across the dance floor and started heading towards me at the bar. There is a bond between guitar players and since I had played guitar in a band at one time, I always managed to befriend the guitar players in the local bands. Dave continued his walk toward me until he saw the woman next to me. He stopped abruptly, turned to her and said, “I’ll bet I can guess your name.”

The woman defiantly replied, “No you can’t.”

Dave proceeded to guess four or five names. Each time he guessed, the woman would reply with a curt “NO”. Dave decided he wasn’t getting anywhere so he turned to me and we chatted for several minutes. Then Dave headed for the waitress station to get a drink and then headed back to the stage.

As soon as Dave left, I turned to the woman and said, “I can tell you your name.”

Again she defiantly replied, “No you can’t.”

“It’s Debbie” I proclaimed.

“No it’s not,” came the reply.

“I’m never wrong, your name is Debbie!”

The woman was becoming annoyed and repeated, “No it’s not.”

I knew I was right so I challenged her. “Show me something with your name on it.”

The turned toward the bar, opened her purse and pulled out a check book. She opened it to a check, pushed it towards me and said “SEE.”

There on the check was printed the name “DEBORAH”.

I chuckled to myself and then asked her “What do your friends call you?”

She just glared at me, mumbled “Debbie” and turned away.

The woman’s reaction wasn’t unusual. I found that if you just told someone information about them and they didn’t know you, the person would react with anger, suspicion, denial, fear or distrust. The interesting thing is that there are people sitting in offices in Langley, VA or Washington, DC that have access to the same information on computers and people are not concerned at all. People are strange! Or as a country song puts it: “GOD is Great, Beer is good and people are crazy”! NEXT: What are The Crazies up to? And who is the man sitting next to me?

Sunday, May 20, 2012

My psychic adventures continue

As I worked on my new "psychic" skills, I became better and better at it. It got to where I could know just about know anything I wanted. If my girlfriend Joan went somewhere and I wanted to find her, I would just get in my car and drive to where I thought she would be(no cell phones in those days). One time I found her at a restaurant that I had never been to and didn't even know existed. She was there having snacks with some coworkers and just about fell off her chair when I walked over to her table.

Word spread quickly in a small town like Paducah, and it wasn't long before I became free entertainment at the local lounges. If I sat down at a table in a lounge it would not be alone for long before the table was full. Quickly several people would join me and there was always someone who wanted to know something or wanted to challenge me. One evening I was sitting alone at a table in a lounge listening to music when Joan came in with a friend. They sat down and Joan explained that her friend had heard about me and wanted to talk to me. After some chit-chat, I turned to the woman whom I had never met and began giving her information about herself. I told she was married and had 3 children. I started to say two boys and a girl and then quickly corrected myself and said she had a boy and two girls. And then it hit me!

I said, "Do you know that one of your daughters, the oldest one is very ill." The woman just nodded.

I continued. "She has cancer, and it is serious. She has leukemia."

I looked up and the woman was crying. She sobbed, "Yes, she has leukemia and she is getting treatment."

Since I wasn't sure what to say next, I sat there for a moment, and then I felt compelled to tell her, "She will be fine. She will be OK and she will recover." I didn't tell her that just to make her fell better; I knew it was true.

After reassuring her several more times that her daughter would be fine, I ended the "session". Then as I sat there, I realized what I had done. I had just assured a distraught women that her daughter would recover from a potentially life threatening illness. I started to think, what if I'm wrong. The woman believed me and I had no proof. As I thought about what I had said, I had no reservation that what I had told her was true.

I ran into the woman again about six to nine months later and she ran up to me to let me know that her daughter was fine and cancer free. I was not surprised at all, but I did feel a sense of relief.

In my next post I will show how The Crazies get into the act and how there continuing efforts to get rid of me takes a strange twist.

IN THE NEWS: Local papers are now running articles about how some workers are being treated like slaves! Slavery in fascist amerika? What a concept!!!!

And I find all the articles about the blind Chinese dissident and his miraculous escape, amusing. Dumb amerikans want to believe his escape was a miracle as if God was helping amerika against those evil Chinese. It is great propaganda but the reality is that the Chinese probably LET HIM ESCAPE. Folks, the Chinese just want to get rid of him! I know of what I speak. I speak from personal experience which you will see if you keep following my blog.

Sunday, May 13, 2012

Finding new ways to have power

Since I was no longer working, had no associations with anyone or any group and had very little money, I decided I needed a way to get power. I had always been gifted in what former bosses called a “sixth sense” and I had always known events long before the event actually happened. As I pointed out previously, as a child I had a recurring nightmare that I was ostracized from society and that my parents eventually told me that it was the government that was behind my terror. Some 30 years later, that is exactly what happened to me and in fact, the fascist state was behind my problems.

I started studying "psychic" phenomena and ran test which demonstrated that I was indeed gifted. It has also been shown that a persons "psychic" abilities increase when subjected to prolonged severe stress and I sure qualified for that category. I practiced for a period of time and continued to run simple test until I felt I was ready to go out and see what I could do with live subjects.

One Friday evening I wandered down to the local Paducah watering hole called Froggy's and ventured in for a drink at happy hour. The place was packed and as I stood there sipping on a drink I notice four women standing in a corner chatting. I walked over, introduced myself and told them I would like to conduct a little experiment and see if I could tell one of them some details about their life. One young lady quickly volunteered and asked what she needed to do.

"I just need a personal item to hold for a few seconds; any item that you have on you." I answered.

"Will this ring do?" She asked as she slipped it off her finger and handed it to me.

"Sure that will work fine." I replied.

I stood there for a few seconds holding the ring in my hand. Suddenly a wealth of information came flooding into my head. I started by telling her her name and that she was having problems with a boyfriend and her boyfriend's name. I continued by telling her where she worked and at first I vaguely described what she did for a living. When she challenged me, I provided the exact bank at which she worked and the specific job that she had. When I finished I handed her the ring back and just stood there waiting for some kind of a reaction. First she acknowledged that everything I had said was true and all four women just stood there with a stunned looks on their faces.

Then the woman became defensive. "Who put you up to this? She demanded.

"No one." I replied.

"Come on, who told you all of those things about me? Who was it?"

"Honestly, no one told me to do anything. I had no idea who you were when I walked over here."

The woman was becoming increasingly frustrated and curious. "Is the person who put you up to this here? She frantically looked around the room. "I'll bet it was a guy. Wasn't it?"

I again reassured her that nobody had "put me up to it" and then I turned and walked away knowing I had developed a new power.

Wednesday, May 2, 2012

"Frivolous Lawsuits"

If you have every sat around and listened to a group of wealthy conservatives talking, one topic that always comes up besides taxes of course, is "frivolous lawsuits". Frivolous lawsuits to the wealthy means any lawsuit which might end up restricting their ability to rape the land or the working class. According to renowned attorney Gerry Spence, "frivolous lawsuits" constitute about 1% of all civil lawsuits. And the amount awarded in these lawsuits is minuscule and has little effect on corporate profits. So why are the fascists so concerned about this 1% of all lawsuits?

The answer of course is that a civil lawsuit is the only means that working class people have to address wrongs committed against them by the powerful. If some corporate or government agency is committing some great harm to the people, what course of action do the victims have. You could organize a protest but the ruling fascists will just ignore you or if it becomes too annoying to them, they will sic the police and gestapo agencies on the demonstrators who then end up physically beaten and/or end up with a criminal record. And nothing will change. But a lawsuit can force change - meaning the ruling fascists have limitations put on their anarchical practices. Capitalism has been called "controlled anarchy" meaning the ruling fascists control who can commit anarchy.

Let's look at the poster child of the "frivolous lawsuit" mantra. Everyone has read or heard about the woman who received a million dollar judgment against McDonald's because she spilled hot coffee on herself. But what do you really know about the case? First, I would estimate that at least 70% of all drivers have put a drink between there legs while driving. Lots of people do it so the woman did do anything unusual. And I would guess that a lot of drivers have spilled their drink on themselves at one time or another. In this woman's case, the woman spilled the drink and suffered THIRD DEGREE BURNS ON HER INNER THIGHS AND GENITAL AREA FROM THE SCALDING COFFEE. Why were the burns so severe? Because the coffee from McDonald's was 190 degrees F which at that time was the standard temperature of the coffee they served. For a point of reference, coffee you serve at home is usually served at about 130 degrees F and the maximum temperature of a hot tube or a hot spring used for "bathing" is 106 degrees F. McDonald's had received numerous complaints about their unsafe practice and was well aware of the excessive temperature of their coffee, but they refused to change their corporate procedure. And this just wasn't McDonalds. I can remember getting hot drinks from various fast food restaurants that was so hot I had to wait 5-10 minutes before I could carefully sip the drink without burning my lips. The woman is this case ended up spending two weeks in a hospital. And I would imagine she ended up with some serious scaring. Would you consider it "frivolous" if you suffered 3rd degree burns on your genital area!?

Whether the lawsuit is the reason for the change or not, now days when you get a hot drink from a fast food restaurant, you can at least sip it without fear of burning your tongue or lips. Lawsuits effect change and the ruling fascists don't like the courts or anyone else telling them what they can or can't do. Thus you have the constant mantra of "frivolous lawsuits." And McDonalds profit for this past year is somewhere between 4-5 Billion dollars which makes that 1 million dollar judgment about .025 percent of their profits. McDonalds will survive.

The next time you hear someone complaining about a "frivolous lawsuit", ask them how much they really know about the case. And there are frivolous lawsuits. But are you willing to give up your only avenue to address a grievous wrong and/or give up the only way you have to get compensation for deliberate destruction to some aspect of your life. I doubt it. But let someone say "you have to stop all these "frivolous lawsuits" and I'll bet you jump right in line and agree. The Crazies stole documents from Karen Silkwood's car and from my home and office in order to deny their victims the right to address grievous wrongs committed by the powerful. Don't let them steal your only hope!