Nazi imprisonment through poverty.

After I left the consulate and was driving to Scraton, I began to think about leaving Nazi land. The more I thought about it, the more angry I became. Why should I leave the country I was born and raised in because some really sick super-rich Nazis decided I wasn't fit to live in this country?! And the amerikan people should know what The Crazies really believed in and what they supported. The reason they could do what they did was because nobody knew what these sick SOBs really stood for and how they exhibited such fascist contempt for working class people.

I just read a review of an investment book where the reviewer concluded that the author of the book believed that anyone who worked for a living and earned what they wanted in their life was a chump. Real amerikans didn't work for what they wanted. They steal it. THIS IS WHAT THE CRAZIES BELIEVE AND THEY SHOULD BE THE ONES TO LEAVE THIS COUNTRY, NOT THE HARD WORKING AMERIKANS WHO BUILT THIS COUNTRY. God damn amerika!

I arrived at my parents' house late in the evening on Thursday, February 10, 1983. My parents were relieved to see me, but I felt very uncomfortable about bringing my problems(THE CRAZIES)to their home. I remembered the pathetic condition Anita was in the last time I was her and I was afraid my parents might end up the same way. There was no way they could avoid being caught in the middle of the war The Crazies had declared on me. Nevertheless, I had no choice, but to move back in with my parents.

And that is why "freedom" in Nazi land is a farce. People are forced to do things they don't want to do because the Nazi system and The Crazies leave them no choice. God damn amerika!

Shortly after I moved back in with my parents, I went to the county assistance office at my mother's urging and applied for welfare. Since I had absolutely nothing to my name and I had no income, I qualified for welfare. I received fifty dollars a month in food stamps(and I didn't buy booze and cirgerettes with it - as Nazi propaganda would have you believe)and one hundred and eight-six dollars a month in cash assistance. Since my car payment alone was two hundred and sixty four dollars a month, I had no hope of keeping my car.

I also soon discovered what a humiliating experience welfare is and I noticed signs all over the welfare office that any sign of anger or hostility toward the welfare agent would endanger your receiving any assistance. Apparently the system is designed to suppress dissent or critism by the people who have been removed from the mainstream of society. The continued suppression by the Nazi system that had created my economic condition further infuriated me.

Remember, I am a person who started working at the age of twelve and I had worked and been virtually financially self-sufficient all of my adult life. Now The Crazies had taken all of that away. God damn amerika. And now you can see why I say that my best option at Gamma Supplies was to take a gun into Gamma Supplies and killed Darth Korey and the rest of the management team. It was the only win possibility open to me. And I do regret to this day that I didn't do that. The Crazies and the Nazi leave you no rational options. God damn amerika!

Shortly after I started receiving welfare, I applied for social security disability based on my well documented induced mental illness. I found it ironic that the government should create an illness for which I could then get compensation. Again remember, The Crazies objective was to destroy me while claiming I was mentally ill and that all of my problems was the result of "mental illness". Thus, the system allowed me to get compensation because it supported the Nazi's fabricated story(have their cake and eat it too). As part of the qualification procedure, I was evaluated by a psychiatrist. It was during the examination that my loss of intellectual abilities was demonstrated. As I reported in an earlier blog, a simple test that I had been given five years earlier was repeated during the examination and it showed about a 50% loss in intellectual abilities. I broke down and cried profusely when I realized how badly I had been beaten and how badly my total condition had deteriorated as a result of six years of continous mental torture. It was sad and at the same time infuriating to know that there were madmen in this country who could totally destroy a persons' life on a whim and that the people in this country supported these madmen. I left the evaluation feeling empty inside. I know knew how prisoners of war and torture victims must feel.

Not everyone said I was Crazy.*

I left Florida on a Tuesday so that I could arrive in Washington, D.C. on a week day. I had decided that if no amerikans would help me, then I should begin to look elsewhere. I drove to South Carolina where I made a stop and then continued on to Washington. I arrived late on a Wednesday, got a room for the night and tried to get a good nights sleep.

The next morning I put on a suit and headed for the Russian Embassy. I entered the lobby of the building and filled out an information card. On the line that asked for the purpose of the visit I put, "I have been brutally tortured by the U.S. Government and would like to seek political asylum." A few minutes later, a man came into the lobby, looked at my card, looked me over from head to toe and then directed me to the Soviet Consulate at 1825 Phelps Place.

I left the Embassy and proceeded to the Soviet Consulate with that uneasy feeling that I was being followed. Upon reaching the Soviet Consulate I parked my car on a nearby street and walked a block to a large old building surrounded by a wrought iron fence. I enter through the gate and proceeded up the steps to the front door. I glanced back to see a motorcycle policeman station at the corner observing me and speaking on his radio microphone. When he saw me glance his way, he quickly tried to conceal the hand held microphone behind his back. I had to laugh at he policeman's clumsy attempt to hide his microphone, but the whole incident reinforced my belief that my every movement was being observed.

I should add that prior to my leaving my condo in Florida, The Crazies had continued the practice of entering my home while I was gone. Just prior to my leaving, I noticed that a piece of paper on which I had written a list of "things to do" had been conspicuously moved as if to let me know The Crazies were watching me. On that list was the item "visit the Russian Embassy".

Once inside the Consulate, I gave the receptionist the card I had filled out at the Embassy and she politely instructed me to have a seat. Several minutes later a conservatively dressed, large man walked into the room and introduced himself. I spoke briefly about my problem with him and ask about the possibility of political asylum in The Soviet Union. To my surprise, the man answered me in a very logical, rational manner. He did not doubt my story for a minute and he did not give me a lot of propaganda or pro Russia talk. Instead he addressed my problem and suggested some alternative communist countries that I might consider because I might be able to adjust to the lifestyles more readily. He repeatedly emphasized that there would be major adjustments to be made if I moved to the Soviet Union. The he told me that perhaps I should take a "vacation" and visit some of those countries he had suggested. Then he gave me the phone number of a travel agency that handled flights to Russia. As I left, I looked at him and said, "You wouldn't believe the abuse to which I've been subjected."

He looked at me reassuringly and calmly said, "I am well aware of what this government does to people."

The he shook my hand and I left the building. I left the Consulate feeling somewhat amazed. The Russians had not treated me like some kind of a nut, but rather they took my problem seriously and offered what help they could. It was no surprise to the Russians that I had been brutally tortured. For the first time in six years I felt I had a chance to end the brutal torture to which I was being subjected to in Nazi amerika. I waived to the policeman as I headed back to my car.

*"In a Totalitarian State, anyone holding a minority view, especially a minority view of one, must be convinced they are crazy." Eric Fromm

Joplin, MO is just a microcosm of the destruction this nation will face - that's a promise made to me!

Running out of Cash - Nazi State control thru poverty.

My financial condition remained very bleak despite my small incom from my teaching job. My savings was depleted and I was living on cash advances I took on my two Master Cards. I found it interesting that I could make the monthly installment payment by getting another cash advance. By doing this I was able to pay my rent, make my car payment and have enough money to take Donna out for dinner a couple of evenings during the week. However, I was aware that the situation counld not go on forever and soon I would reach the credit limit on my charge cards. I knew that eventually I would have to return to my parents place. I truly dreaded that situation, but I did not have any viable alternative.

By the end of January, 1983 I had run out of money and both of my charge cards were charged to their limit. I no longer had any source of money. I decided it would be best to just pack up my car with my books and clothing and leave the rest of my possessions behind. After packing my car, I found I still had enoung room to pack the TV and stereo. I mention this because later the stereo will be key in proving how complete The Crazies kept track of me and everything I did. All of my remaining possessions I left in the condo except for a few special items that I gave to Donna. I did not tell anyone expect where I was going so that my creditors could not find me for awhile. I had told the department head at Broward Community College that I had to leave for personal reasons, and then told him to mail my next pay check to my condominium. Thus I left Florida heavily in debt, and only Donna and the CIA/FBI knew where I was headed.

ps - God Damn amerika. Only innocent torture victims can truly appreciate the meaning of that.

TORTURE is TORTURE, period!

As Christmas approached, I was rapidly becoming broke and my usual conditioned dread of the holidays was increasing. The latter condition was somewhat eleviated when Donna invited me over for dinner on Christmas Eve and I then spent Christmas day with her. The fact that I had pleasant company and that it just didn't seem like Christmas with the temperature at eighty degrees greatly reduced the depression and anxiety that I had come to associate with the holidays.

In an effort to alleviate my financial burden I obtained a part-time teaching job at Broward Community College. I also obtained a "commisions only" sales position with one of the many fly-by-night outfits in the Ft. Lauderdale area. After two days on the road of unsuccessful selling, I went to see Donna. She opened the door, looked at me and exclaimed, "What have you been doing? You look terrible!" Donna's observation was merely a reflection of my again rapidly deteriorating physical condition. The next day I resigned my sales position. I was exhausted from two days of work that I could barely get out of bed. My body was still racked with pain and I was exhausted. I also was despondant over the fact that I was physically incapable of working and wondered if the Gamma Supplies threat that I would never work again was coming true.

It is interesting that after six years of incessant, brutal mental torture that the stress and torture so greatly affected my physical body. And although my physical deterioration was obvious, there was no way to prove that it was the result of Nazi government mental torture. This is why The Crazies love mental torture so much. It is almost impossible to prove. With mental torture, The Crazies can have their cake and eat it too. And any resulting symptoms that appear in the victim can be explained away with some "plausible denial".

I was able to teach the one chemistry class at Broward Community College, but even that caused me to be distressed. I taught only one class for three hours on Tuesday evenings and even that assignment taxed my physical limits. Most mornings I woke up with such excruciating pains between my legs and in my head that I could do very little work until later in the day when the pain would slacken. By the afternoon I was so exhausted that I would frequently sleep for a couple of hours and after that I might be able to do a little work. I usually would prepare lecture notes for my next class. Overall, my physical condition as a result of severe mental torture was such that I was barely able to meet my part-time teaching obligations.

Harassment Through Communication Modes.

I said that my existance was relatively harassment free. There are two areas where the Nazi government always can harass a victim and they use it universally. Those areas are the areas of communication, the phone and the mail.(email did not exist in the early 80's). As soon as I had a new phone line put in my condo in Ft. Lauderdale, the harassing phone calls commenced. I also started getting unusual items in the mail. I received invitations to join the elite American Academy of Science and the New Jersey Academy of Science. In addition, all of a sudden, I was inundated with all sorts of science related mail. It was The Crazies way of mocking me and laughing at me for having destroyed my career. I will unequivically demonstrate latter how the Nazi government use the mail and other forms of communication to terrorize and control its victims. Years later I found this was a common Nazi practice which they use on most of their victims. Martin Luther King was one of the Nazi's victim to experience this type of mail tampering. I also learned latter that they censor your mail in an attempt to cut off meaningful communications. It is a standard practice in Nazi amerika.

Meanwhile in the midst of all of my troubles, I had the good fortune of meeting a wonderful woman. I met Donna at a local singles disco and to this day I wonder what caused such a strong mutual attraction. Donna was a pretty, petite devorcee of five years who had a seventeen year old daughter and a son of twelve. She owned a modest home which was located about ten minutes from the condominium that I was renting which made it easy for me to see her on a regular basis. Perhaps the most unusual thing about Donna was that there was never any overt harassment from her and she displayed kindness towards me which I had not experienced in over six years. I had almost forgotten that people could be kind and the sudden contrast to what I had experienced during the previous six years was very intoxicating. Therefore I spent a considerable time at her home and I felt a warmth and comfort with her and her children that I had not experienced in years