Brice
Taylor's "Thanks
for the Memories"
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Brice Taylor and Ted
Gunderson
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wu-SZY5bVr8
Ted Gunderson
Interview with Brice Taylor
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ijqjyj5Gvt0
Brice Taylor Exposes
Mind Control & Her Handlers
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G6QPCZt-B-8
Brice Taylor on Mind
Control
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aSP9v8Me9G8
Interviews
with Brice Taylor
Brice
Taylor's "Thanks
for the Memories" is an incredible book, which shook me to the Core. I
have read it twice and recommend those, emotionally strong ones to read
it, to know what many of us are going through. I posted the whole book
here, but pictures you will find on the website below. Before reading
the book it wouldn't be a bad idea to know Brice Taylor a little bit
more from reading the interviews with her :
http://illuminati-news.com/e-books/BriceTaylor-ThanksforTheMemories.pdf
Good morning. You are tuned in again to The International Connection,
and we are in Part 42 of the ongoing interview series on mind control.
Today we are bringing you part 1 of an interview I conducted with Brice
Taylor, a former Whitehouse-level mind control victim. She has been
used as a sex slave for a number of U.S. presidents, foreign officials,
and other power-brokers while under the influence of mind control. She
has been subjected to horrific torture and abuse, beginning in her
childhood, at
the hands of her family, and has been programmed at various military
bases
in the U.S., and at NASA. She is the author of a fictionalized account
of
her life, "Starshine: One woman's valiant escape from mind control",
and
since breaking free and recovering, has been in touch with hundreds of
mind control survivors across the U.S. Here now is that interview:
WAYNE MORRIS:
I am speaking to Brice Taylor, a survivor of mind control. Welcome to
the show, Brice. I wonder if you could start off by just giving a short
description of who you are, and your background.
BRICE TAYLOR:
Actually, <Brice Taylor> is a pseudonym that I chose to
protect myself and my children when I first started writing my book and
putting it out. I
am a ritual abuse, government mind control survivor, and I have spent
since 1985 working to heal from that and documenting what I was
involved with at the highest levels within our government and
internationally as the people's leaders are invested in bringing in the
New World Order.
WM:
Who was responsible initially for your programming and conditioning?
BT:
Initially, up close, my father primarily was, at home on a daily basis,
and my mother was also programmed to abuse and program me. My
whole family was actually involved in my programming, including my
grandparents on both sides, aunts, uncles and my brothers. As I grew
older, by the time I was five, I was being taken to military bases in
and out of California and officials there were programming me, and
later, doctors at UCLA Neuropsychiatric Institute in California, and
places where there were
NASA installations - I was also programmed.
WM:
Do you remember when it started - the conditioning?
BT:
I had actually some very early memories of being traumatized as an
infant, so it started when I was very, very young.
WM:
What is your family's background, your father and grandfather in
particular
BT:
My background is intergenerational ritual satanic abuse, and I know,
that because my father flew me back to Iowa where my grandfather lived
and
they involved me in satanic ritual there, and it was then that I
realized,
that my grandfather, who was a millionaire and a politician, was
involved and
was also intergenerationally connected. It has gone back in the family
for generations as far, as I know.
WM:
Did your family learn in terms of the mind control programming or was
it strictly in terms of being traumatized by the satanic rituals?
BT:
I have no way of knowing what my parents' duties or jobs were during
their early lifetimes, but I believe that my father was made into a
multiple
through the severe satanic ritual that happened to him, so I don't
believe
that he was consciously operating with the programming of me, where all
parts of him knew what was going on, because I know he was a multiple. I
watched him switch into child personalities and all sorts of different
entities that he became during the years.
WM:
Was that caused by his father's conditioning of him?
BT:
Yes. My Dad was severely tortured his whole life, had a very abusive
childhood, and as I was healing and able to look back, he even had
several
near-death experiences due to accidents that I think were perhaps his
programming kicking up as mine did later on.
WM:
Were there government or military connections in your family?
BT:
Not to the public, but certainly I was shuffled and taken into the
government and military bases, but as far as being publicly connected,
no.
WM:
Do you know how they had made that connection with the military in
terms of
turning you over to them?
BT:
I believe that whole connection came with my grandfather who was a
politician, and it seemed like once I met him (I had never met him
until I
was nearly ten years old and my father flew me to Iowa to meet him) - it
was shortly after that I started being connected to all sorts of famous
politicians and entertainers, and a lot of different people. So I
believe
it was through my grandfather.
WM:
Was your grandfather himself conditioned, or was he knowledgeable about
the techniques of conditioning for the purpose of mind control?
BT:
I have no way of knowing ... all I know is that he tortured me and my
father was there, and there were usually a lot of other men. I have
only my own experience and what I believe to be the truth for my father
is that
although they created these heinous things, and did all of
this, that he was programmed also. I can't answer that for my
grandfather. I wasn't around him enough.
WM:
Can you describe for our listeners what kinds of things were done to you
that you remember as a child?
BT:
It is always hard for me to go back into this, it seems that no matter
how
many years go by, it is still very painful. There was trauma done in the
form of being stuck with pins and needles, being burned, hung by my
feet -
sometimes to crosses, spun, dropped off a table as an infant, near
drowning, sexual abuse and orgies, being drugged, food and sleep
deprivation, and then adding to that when I was around five, was all of
the military mind control that was done with very sophisticated
instrumentation and chairs and electroshock ... That was all done to
create a shattered psyche that I believe was used later for all these
different personalities that were created for the mind control purpose.
WM:
Were you used by the military at the bases as a child, or was that
later in your life?
BT:
I was taken to bases in Long Beach, California as a child where they
used
very sophisticated means of light, sound combined with electroshock and
drugs and all sorts of torture and hypnosis.
WM:
Do you feel that your family had kind of laid in the base conditioning
in
terms of creating dissociation within you, and then more sophisticated
mind control later, or were they programming you as well?
BT:
My father was absolutely programming me as well, he did the base
programming and a lot of the trauma-based conditioning, and then these
other layers of more sophisticated programming were put in on top of
that.
WM:
In terms of your father's public life, what was his public image?
BT:
My father was a welder, he was certainly everything any father was
supposed to be. He provided well for his family, and was seen as a very
charming man. No one had any idea, including his own physician, and I
am not sure I understand that either because this man was creating so
much torture and trauma in his children.
WM:
Was your mother a co-perpetrator, did she have knowledge of what was
going on?
BT:
My mother also abused me in a lot of different ways, and I thought at
the
time when I was recovering my memory and going through all of this that
my
mother had done this on purpose. It wasn't until I healed to the level
to
be able to go back and confront her with all the different traumas, and
tortures and abuses - that I saw her cry and she said to me "it's not
that
I don't believe you, it's just that I can't remember. I felt very
strongly
that my mother actually may at a subconscious level have known that she
had participated, however she couldn't remember. However, she wasn't
discounting what I said which was very unusual for most survivors.
Usually
their parents say, "this never happened" - my mother did not do this. In
fact she went on to help fund financially my book when I was running
for my life and had no source of income. She has helped me even today,
although she still only cries and has not any of her own memories.
WM:
Do you have memories of your mother being involved in the cult activity
as
well?
BT:
Yes. I have memories of my mother being tortured and traumatized in
satanic rituals that were done at some churches that we went to at
night. My mother was a battered wife, she doesn't remember a lot of it
but my father battered her and some of the personalities he had were
abusive and others weren't. So my mother was absolutely tortured, and I
know that she was programmed in a sophisticated way in order to deliver
me off in time to the airport late at night or early in the morning
when I was being used
internationally, and with high level leaders in our government, and with
entertainers and she doesn't remember any of that. However to this day
she
has trouble driving to the airport and doesn't understand why it is so
frightening for her. Those are the kind of indications to me that she
really knows but she can't remember, because of programming.
WM:
Has she attempted to get help for herself?
BT:
My Mom did, and my Mom is nearly 80 years old. She said to me "I am
afraid
I will come apart and I won't be able to function", because she watched
me
become severely dysfunctional to where I couldn't even take care of
myself
or anybody else in order to heal. She said she felt her greatest help
would be able to help me financially and to be able to be there with my
children, who I am not able to have much contact with at this point. My
Mother is a victim, and now that I have done my complete healing and
realized that my life with my children was very similar to the one that
she led with me, I have some very deep compassion for her and wish that
in her time it would have been for her to heal, but I understand.
I know what it took for me to go through the healing process. It was
years, and it was over $250,000 worth of therapy and bodywork, and all
sorts of healing modalities ... so I understand what it has taken in
the past to heal and what it would take for her as an older
person. I was in therapy in daily. My Mother is an incredibly
strong person, even in her late 70's, she is working in the capacity
that she can, and it's pretty miraculous actually.
WM:
When you were a child, did you attempt to tell anybody about the
abuses, or were you even somewhat aware?
BT:
It's interesting that you ask that Wayne, because when I was
deprogramming
and reintegrating, I had a lot of memories, and one of the specific ones
that I had explains this. I had a personality in elementary school that
was programmed to do child pornography and the way it was done was that
I was taken out of my classroom at school in order to go to be taken to
what they called "choir practice". My church was very close locally, so
they would take me out of class to be taken to the choir director's
home to practice "choir" during schooltime. What ended up happening was
that once we got there, and put on our choir robes, the whole thing
turned and changed, and we stopped singing. And we went downstairs in
the basement to be filmed in pornography and all sorts of heinous
ritualistic pornographic, everything filmed with all sorts of
equipment. This one day by the time I was taken back to school with the
other children, I had for some reason not switched out of that
personality. I went to the school principal's office and I told her
that this had happened and I was talking in all these terms with sexual
language and things that she found very distasteful, and I remember her
shaking her finger at me and saying, "stop talking like this, this is
disgusting, children shouldn't be speaking like this". I got punished
for that like I did lots of different subsequent times when I attempted
to tell what was going on - I always ended up getting punished.
Yes, I did attempt to tell and whether this woman, the principal, was
herself programmed ... I have since learned from my own experience that
oftentimes there will be a whole web of people in a community - the
professionals, the educational system, the church system - and everyone
in
that community will be programmed and have been ritually abused and they
attend rituals at night without even knowing it in an attempt to keep
the
whole community traumatized and programmed. So, yes I did try
to tell. It
took until very late on in my life for people to start listening.
WM:
Did this principal inform your parents of what you were saying?
BT:
No.
WM:
Where did you grow up?
BT:
I grew up in California in Woodland Hills - it was southern California -
about 20 minutes inland from Malibu.
WM:
Do you know if as a child you were displaying signs of abuse that
teachers
could have picked up on?
BT:
Thinking back now, just even that example that I described to you where
I
had knowledge of sexual behaviour and language that was well beyond the
understanding of a child - I was always labelled as mischievous,
getting in trouble in school, acting out. I was always the class clown.
I think I did have even physical signs that teachers today would
possibly pick up, and probably even the difference in my personalities
had to have shown. I had obvious switches, where I was switching in and
out of different
personalities. I know that because when I reintegrated there were a lot
of
different school personalities that had been created to handle school.
I am sure that when teachers and other adults begin to have more
information
about dissociative identity disorder and all of this abuse that they
will
have the eyes to see.
WM:
When did you first realize that you were subjected to mind control?
BT:
The memory of the actual mind control involvement started to come to
light
in 1988 after several years of thinking I was crazy, having the
accident,
and all of that.
In 1988 I realized there was more than I was just "crazy, nuts,
confused".
WM:
You had memories of the ritual abuse before that?
BT:
In 1985 I had a head injury. I had a head-on collision where my head
went
through the windshield of the car. What that did was it allowed me to
access both sides of my brain for the first time in my life, and I began
having memories - very frequent memories of all sorts of abuse that
came in such a way that it was difficult for me to continue to process
it all.
There was just so much of it. There were years of memories that came
flooding in. As my programming dictated, when those memories initially
in
1985 started coming in, I just thought I was crazy. I was programmed to
believe that if anything came up, I would just think I was crazy. In
1987 I had another accident on the same date as the head-on collision
where I
broke my back and smashed my head again riding a horse. It was on April
12
at 9:15 in the morning which was the same time as my 1985 head-on
collision. The result of that accident was more very vivid flashback
memories that came in the form of visual flashes, body memories where I
felt agony, my body felt drugged. Very specific places in my body had
pain.
Once I learned through my daily therapy to begin to process that, I
learned what it all meant. I would like to explain that during this
time I was in school working towards my Master's Degree in Clinical
Psychology to be a psychologist - when all of this memory started
breaking through. This made me have to quit school before I graduated,
but it gave me a lot of
information about the psychological process and what I would need to go
through to heal.
WM:
It seems really unusual that you would have the two accidents on the
same
day at the same time. Do you feel that they were arranged - or at least
the second one?
BT:
I believe that it was definitely arranged, and I believe that because
what
happened in 1991 on April 10th which was 2 days before the anniversary
of
the accident date - I received a dollar bill in my wallet that had
programming numbers and the date April 12th written across
it. When I showed it to my therapist they realized this was
intentional. Every time they sent things like this in to me, it was
just another validation of reality for me.
WM:
Do you think they would have programmed you to ride into that tree the
second time?
BT:
I think I was programmed to have an accident if I became dangerously
close
to remembering, and I think that once I had the first accident that they
may have tied the second one to it in an attempt to kill me. I really
don't know that. I know I was still being used. I continued to be used
even when I thought I was free in 1991 and 1992, and even into 1993. I
believe they were attempts to injure me to the point where I could
function. I don't know. I don't have all the answers.
WM:
>From what you know from other survivors' experiences, do you
feel that's a common technique for killing people if they do come too
close to remembering?
BT:
Yes, I do. I think that as people are educated and become more aware,
they
will be able to see more clearly what has happened. I received letters
from survivors, it began nationally, and now I receive letters from all
over the world from survivors who have had all kinds of head injuries,
strokes, all kinds of programmed accidents. Fortunately for all of us,
and unfortunately for our controllers, what it has done is that it has
actually made the brain barriers easier to access and to remove some of
the amnesic barriers so that people who are having these accidents are
beginning to remember more and more.
WM:
Just in the news recently - the fatal accidents that Michael Kennedy and
Sonny Bono had - skiing into a tree - sound very familiar. That's
immediately what came to my mind. How did you manage to break
free of
their control, at what point did that happen?
BT:
I was in daily therapy from 1987 on, and sometimes twice a day. So I was
writing memories at home, in therapy. I was drawing. I was having
bodywork.
I was doing just about everything to heal. So I had healed and had
begun to integrate a lot of my personalities so when in 1991 I received
that dollar bill with my accident date written on it ... At that point
I had connected with Dr. Catherine Gould who is a therapist in
California who has worked for years with children who had DID and have
been ritually abused. I met her actually when I was in school along my
venture to be a therapist, and so she started giving me information as
I was
asking her questions about programming. She was able to give me a little
information. No one who was around me - neither of my therapists had
ever
heard of ritual abuse or had worked with anyone at all with MPD - no one
who was working with me really understood what I was talking about.
Once I
realized there was such a thing as mind control, the programming just
started unfolding. Parts of me that knew about the programming that had
been done started filling up journals listing my specific programming
and
how it worked; drawing pictures that I share in workshops that I do. I
began to understand that there was a lot more to this than I could ever
imagine, and I was afraid for my life and for my children's lives. I
didn't know what to do. My therapist helped relocate me to an island on
Hawaii and I went there and I was only going to spend a week trying to
get clear on what I should do. I started realizing that my ex-husband
was also a victim of this, and that there was a lot more
going on.
I went to this island, thinking I would only spend a week, and I ended
up
there for five weeks and returned in an attempt to rescue my children.
During the time I was there, I had a lot of the higher level memories
of my government and entertainer involvement. Being on the island, I
had no money and very little support. I had a couple who helped me. I
got a word
processor and lived very frugally and just wrote and continued bringing
back the memories and writing every day and re-integrating. With all of
that, I realized that I had been used at very high levels within our own
government. To help combat the programming that said I was crazy, I
began
to be strong enough of my own mind and body to be able to recognize when
people were sent in on me to access me. I would be programmed to call
back
into a number and I was advised to keep doing that until I was healthy
enough to really break free. I would call in, and these men would be on
the phone, and they validated my reality of what I was remembering in a
way that I am grateful to them now. I had no way of understanding
before why men in suits would be following me in cars around L.A. and
all over the place. It started making sense to me and I was able to put
it together.
In 1991 I was healing at a rampant rate, but I was still being accessed
and used on the island. I was still being prostituted along with my
daughter on the island. It was pretty devastating when I healed and
realized it, but I was still healing and that's how I realized what was
really going on.
WM:
Do you know up to what point your perpetrators were still using you?
BT:
I am not sure if I have the date right, but I believe it was actually
until just before our current president was inaugurated was one of the
last times I was used.
Wayne Morris:
When you were dealing with your first therapist you said they weren't
really aware of mind control techniques. What kind of work were you
doing
with them? Were you doing memory work at that point?
Brice Taylor:
I started out just doing psychotherapy and analysis - it's absolutely
insane to be doing that with someone under mind control - but they had
no
way of knowing. I was just doing straight psychotherapy and the memories
started flooding in from the accidents, the trauma, and as I began to
feel
safer - that there was someone who, even if they didn't understand ...
My
therapist looked at me all the time like I was nuts. I was just coming
up
with all this abuse. The childhood abuse came up first, and then the
ritual abuse memories came on the heels of the sexual abuse, and then
the
government mind control stuff came.
WM:
So working with those initial therapists - you started remembering the
government mind control ... At the point where they had stopped using
you,
or you were able to avoid being used, was there something you
had done to
prevent that? What was the situation?
BT:
Actually I worked with a renegade member of the intelligence community
who
I lived with for a year and a half, and he was able to help me through
identifying my codes, keys and triggers, what my programming was. We
actually spent a year and a half in the house where he would trigger me
and I would just go into my room and write and write and write, volumes
of
memory work where I would just go right back in ... I had
been programmed
to have a photographic memory and traumatic memory is laid down
differently than normal memory is stored. I was able to not only see
and hear, but use all my senses to go back into these memories and
document it all. Over time there was no way I had any information or
could have known about any of this top secret, still classified
projects or the level of political sophistication and the
interconnection of politicians and world leaders that I was used with.
WM:
Are you aware, or do you know how they programmed you to have
photographic
memory?
BT:
It was a hypnotic command done under hypnosis with drugs and specific
personalities.
WM:
You have written a book about your account. "Starshine: One
woman's
valiant escape from mind control", and within that book you mentioned
some
electronic, harmonics equipment to help with your memory retrieval and
deprogramming. Could you describe that and other forms of technology
that
were helpful?
BT:
The harmonic equipment that I spoke about in the book was actually
explained to me by this member of the intelligence community - that was
some of the specific programming equipment that had been used to program
people. It could be used to deprogram people. However, since then I have
not been able to get anybody within the government obviously to bring
this
equipment out publicly. But I do have some very good hope for people
that
have been through this to heal, and the closest that I know of help for
people ... In fact, I am now in the process of beginning to open a
business for EEG biofeedback. There is a company in
California that is one of many around the country called "EEG Spectrum"
and basically it is a way of a person working through with a computer
game that is monitoring your own brain waves, where a survivor or
anyone is able to begin to realize what brainwave state they are in.
Survivors are usually heavy Theta accessed - they are in Theta a lot.
Basically what this does is to help people stay more into the Beta
which is their conscious, alert awareness and learn that way. One of
the beauties of EEG biofeedback is that however a person has been
traumatized, and most people born into these generations on the earth
now have been traumatized in whatever way -- the trauma begins to be
encoded physically and therapy alone over time doesn't affect the
body/mind connection in the way that this EEG biofeedback reintegrates
brain function so the body/mind can begin to be dealt with. I bought
the equipment and began working with my daughter at home during a few
months when I was able to have her, and it borders on being miraculous.
Of course she was very afraid it was like mind control, but it brought
her out of catatonic states and made her be able to function in ways
that she wasn't able to. I would say that the EEG biofeedback
equipment and technology is the closest I know to help victims with
memory retrieval and deprogramming - it is gentler, kinder and without
so much body pain memory. It's EEG Spectrum and there are affiliates
all over the nation and it is 1-800-789-3456.
WM:
With this kind of equipment - was it that you were able to see your
brainwave activity and then adjust your own thinking to deal with it?
How
did that work?
BT:
Basically you are fed back a "reward" so it's like - it's operant
conditioning - just like a rate in a maze. You are rewarded when pacman
goes and you hear the sound accompanied with a reward. It's a reward
that
rewards your central nervous system, so it's not like someone has to be
an
intellectual or figure it out - the healing happens. I have been working
with children with ADD and ADHD and often within two or three sessions,
kids that are 10 or 11 years old who have never been able to read are
reading ... they are saying, "I can read", and children who are on
Ritalin
are coming off Ritalin because they are able to manage their brainwave
state. So children can do it, adults can do it, because it works with
the
central nervous system. It's very powerful and I think it is very
hopeful
for the future.
WM:
I would like to talk now about some of the techniques they used to
condition and program you. Do you remember how hypnosis was used to
control and program?
BT:
It was used in just about all of my earlier programming, whether it was
my
father or programmers - I was taken a lot to Disneyland or different
places where fantasy was intentionally mixed with reality. Hypnosis was
always used in conjunction with drugs, and often when I was at military
bases or NASA installations, it was used in conjunction with a very
sophisticated chair and instruments that went over my head - I was
given electroshock and hypnotic commands with drugs that they know are
very useful in allowing that hypnotic command to go deeper than the
subconscious mind.
WM:
What was the purpose of the drugs? Was that to make you more open to
hypnosis?
BT:
I think the drugs are used in a lot of different ways, certainly I am
not a physician or a brain surgeon to know how that all
works. But I believe the drugs were used a lot to keep the
conscious mind out of the way in order to be able to take the
programming to very deep levels.
WM:
Just to open the subconscious ... And specifically, what was
the purpose
of electricity? What factor did that play in mind control?
BT:
As a child I was 'shocked' at home by bare electric cords, and as I
began
getting a little older - with a cattle prod, and then stun guns as I was
older still. And then later the hi-tech electronic equipment at the
bases.
And I believe that's done for dissociation - as a person is shocked and
traumatized it affects your whole energy field and the trauma creates
dissociation which allows people to be programmed at very deep levels
when
your conscious mind is out of the way.
WM:
Later on, with the more sophisticated programming, what was the role of
electricity?
BT:
I believe it is still the same thing. There are members of the
intelligence community; there are ex-military people who, it may take
ten years, but they begin remembering being set in chairs with
electroshock, and drugs and hypnosis while they are being given the
commands for their jobs or assignments. I believe there is a lot more
to be understood and learned about this as more and more survivors are
taken as credible sources of information and what they describe having
seen in the classified projects is brought to light in that way.
WM:
Do you feel they also used electricity to make you forget?
BT:
In fact a member of the intelligence community who helped me out told me
that a stun gun is used, and was used, because they believed it would
erase memory twenty minutes on each side of the memory. When an event
happened, they would use a stun gun 20 minutes into it in order to
erase 20 minutes before the event had happened, and 20 minutes after.
They felt confident that would erase the memory; however, I was able to
access memory because I became a medicator, and I was able to access
memory throughout all of it - throughout the electroshock, through the
drug barriers - there really was nothing that erased my memory in ways
they thought they did. None of their techniques to erase memory was
satisfactory. Their techniques have fallen short, and I think that's why
there are so many survivors who are remembering.
WM:
When you were remembering this, particularly the electricity, was it
conscious memory, or did it come back as more body memories, how did the
memories appear?
BT:
It came back in all ways in every day of my waking hour. I really had
probably ten years of my life (once I began healing) that was not my own
either because I was so busy remembering, and documenting through
writing
what I was remembering. The memories came through - things in the
environment would trigger me. I would see something and it would remind
me
subconsciously and I would have a feeling, and I would follow that
feeling
and that memory back into my own mind. The memory would just be there. I
had flashbacks - where, during the flashback state - information and
experiences are very clear, and very vivid, and seem as if they are
happening even that moment - things that have happened 10, 20 years
ago. I recovered memory a lot through the flashback state and
basically I kept a journal with me at all times. Anything that reminded
me or triggered me or made me feel funny, I wrote about it. Over time
all these bits and pieces of information that I wrote about all fell
into line, even the ages I was versus the ages presidents were when
they were office. Everything all fit together in a puzzle, a perfect
picture, that I couldn't have created if I had tried to.
WM:
You mentioned the more sophisticated technology, particularly at NASA,
and
some of the military bases. Can you describe that, and what effect they
were trying to have on you?
BT:
A lot of that was being sat in a chair that looked like the NASA space
chairs, where I would be strapped in. A lot of the equipment that I
imagine has used by the astronauts was used on me. A lot of the
spinning, the weightlessness, being put into sensory deprivation tanks.
Being subjected to a lot of the light and sound along with
electroshock. A lot of that where I was being delivered information
like, I would have on headphones and in one ear I would be hearing one
sound and in the other I would be hearing other sounds. I was
programmed with tones, so a tone on a phone would have a specific
meaning that would be subliminally and subconsciously connected with a
command. When I was initially healing, when I would try and dial the
phone, I would hit the numbers and hear the tones in my ear, it would
scramble me and I couldn't think straight. I couldn't function. It was
a matter of going back and consciously realizing that these tones were
connected to commands that I no longer needed to follow and it took
several years for that not to affect me. It still affects me; however,
the equipment they used oftentimes in the auditory was using one sound
in one ear, and one sound in the other which confuses the conscious
mind and sends a message straight into the unconscious which is a very
powerful way of controlling a person.
WM:
Do you know what kinds of things they deliberately did to prevent you
from
remembering?
BT:
I don't have my diagram with me right now, but off the top of my memory,
they gave me programmed commands that should I begin remembering, I
would
become confused. Should I begin remembering, I would feel tired and fall
asleep. Should I begin remembering, I would have migraine headaches. I
would have accidents. I would want to kill myself and there were very
specific ways to self-injure that I was taught which I had to fight,
literally, for a couple of years in order to stay alive to get to the
deeper levels of memory. There were endless, endless internal landmines
of
boobytraps and programming that was intended to kill me or make me feel
like I was crazy or insane. Then when you add to that all the people
outside - my family that was programmed, the people who I was being
perpetrated by, with all of that, it is nearly impossible to begin
remembering unless you have a head injury or something happens that
really
shakes a person up.
I also think that the continued trauma to myself, to my husband, to my
children was one of the biggest forms of attempting to keep me under
control, because the innate mother instinct is very strong and has been
one that I have had to logically overcome in order to speak out,
knowing that my children will be safer if I spoke out than if I kept
silent.
There were also phone accesses to codes that would be called, people
would
say either programmed phrases or set certain numbers on the phone where
the phone would then play in my ear. It is endless. A web.
WM:
In terms of the actual programming that was done to you, was mainstream
culture in any way? You mentioned that you were taken to Disneyland ...
BT:
I was programmed with all the regular fantasy that children go through.
I
saw the Disney films and was heavily programmed to all of them - The
Parent Trap, with the twin sisters - that was my base programming for
my twin sister programming which was the high level programming that
was used in the government to keep me from knowing what my internal
twin sister who was actually involved with the elite families and the
government was doing. I was shown lots of movies that had very profound
programming - not that the movies were programs - but the way they were
used was. The film, Lost Horizons, I was programmed to be ageless
unless I left. That's the theme of the film - when you leave you start
aging. I had a lot of
programs where they won't age as long as they stay in. The books and
films, it was one tool of programming after another - and they were all
mainstream.
WM:
Do you feel that films that are currently coming out are still being
used
for programming?
BT:
Yes I do, and at a higher level. I think if people continue to ignore
the
profound and deep effect of what children receive as visual and auditory
images in childhood - the effect it has on their entire psyche and the
framework for which they set up belief systems. Even if they are not
programming, for their rest of their lives we need to be mindful of what
children are seeing and I think people have yet to look at how serious
the
havoc that is being wreaked on children really is. If people look with
the
eyes of a child to the Disney films and to a lot of the things children
are watching on television and in movies, it is horrific.
WM:
Was music used at all in your experience?
BT:
I was even programmed with music to fall in love with my husband. The
songs were linked with my emotions in order to initiate a state of
feeling that I was in love. I watched as years went by that the music
was played to me at very important times when I was to be used for
something. I also was used within the entertainment industry and saw
how some of the current and very famous and powerful musicians were
programmed, and their music and certain phrases were encoded.
Oftentimes, I even delivered programmed phrases from the elite to these
entertainers, and delivered the words or the phrases they were to say
during their performances when they were live and on stage. I believe
that a lot of people were programmed to want to be with these people,
or to revere them, or get hysterical, see them all the time, idolize
them so that they would continue to return to these mass
performances for their own programming. It was a way of keeping groups
intact that were already programmed so they could be controlled.
WM:
About your book. What motivated you initially to write about your
experiences, and why did you choose to write it as a fictional work?
BT:
I was trying to stay alive. I was running from place to place, from
state
to state, all by myself. Dr. Catherine Gould recommended that I stay in
contact with her and Ted Gunderson, who is a retired FBI agent who has
been helping survivors and basically I was trying to stay alive and to
be able to explain to people what was going on in order to keep myself
and my
children safe. And I was trying to help other survivors so they could
see
and perhaps it would ease their feeling of being alone and feeling
crazy,
much in the same way that Lauren Stratford's, Satan's Underground,
after I
had a bunch of my memories, had been something that helped me realize
that I wasn't alone and I wasn't crazy.
WM:
Did you feel that the book served as a kind of insurance policy for you
as
well?
BT:
Absolutely. It continues to ... in ways that ... a member of the
intelligence community told me ... I explained I had written the book
and
gotten it out all over along with my actual memories, naming the names,
dates and places in a letter stating that if anything happened to me or
my
children, that this information was to be made bigger and that the
people
that had my information who were public already with this issue were to
take it out wider and then ... what ended up happening was it created a
huge safety-net for myself and my children.
WM:
I was going to ask why you chose not to name the names, but I
think you
just answered that.
BT:
Initially I made it under Catherine Gould's recommendation in order to
stay alive. Also to make the problem understood in a more simple
fashion by the general public. People really had a hard time back in
those days hearing the names that I was naming who they thought as
their national icons or heroes as doing this horrific torture to myself
and my children. I felt it was a way, in a very simple way, to help
people to understand what was going on.
WM:
Can you tell us just in a general sense what kind of entertainers were
involved, and politicians?
BT:
World class, internationally known comedian, actually my owner was an
internationally renowned comedian. World leaders, Presidents, Judges,
lawyers, politicians at all levels, famous entertainers and musicians,
ministers, dentists, doctors - I mean, the list goes on and on and
on. It
was my experience that there are world leaders and entertainers in
Hollywood and all over who are themselves programmed, and are in need of
healing.
WM:
Do you feel that these entertainers had intelligence connections as
well?
BT:
That I have no way of knowing that. But I would say there were some
types
of intelligence - I don't know actually what the connection was -
whether
it was actually our intelligence communities or what. But I would often
be
escorted to a very famous person's home that was an entertainer, by two
men in suits and a black sedan to deliver programming. So yes, I would
say it was some sort of intelligence.
WM:
How well distributed is your book, "Starshine", and how can people get a
hold of it?
BT:
Right now I can give you my PO Box that people can order it from, and
that's to just write a cheque to Brice Taylor Trust, PO Box
655 Landrum, S. Carolina 29356 and I also have another book called
"Revivication" which is a gentle alternative method of memory retrieval
process for trauma survivors. Both books together including shipping
are $25 U.S. Any bookstores carrying New Leaf Distributor books can be
ordered in that manner.
********************************************************************
We have been listening to an interview with Brice Taylor, a former
Whitehouse level mind control survivor and author of "Starshine: One
woman's valiant escape from mind control." Stay tuned next week for
Part 2
of this interview. You have been listening to The International
Connection
here on CKLN. We are coming to the end of the series on Mind Control. It
has been going for almost a year, and we have about three more shows in
this series.
Good morning. You have tuned in to The International Connection. Today
we
are in Part 2 of an interview I conducted with Brice Taylor, a former
mind
controlled, Presidential model sex slave programmed to sexually service
a
number of U.S. presidents, foreign dignitaries and other power brokers
while maintaining a family life in which she had no idea she was being
used
by the government. They had gained this total control of her by her
father
trauma conditioning her from infancy involving sexual abuse,
deprivation,
ritual trauma, drugs, hypnosis and electricity, all of which created
many
dissociated identities which were then programmed for certain tasks.
Here
now is Part 2 of that interview:
WAYNE MORRIS:
Do you consider yourself completely free from control by your
perpetrators, and have they attempted to reaccess you?
BRICE TAYLOR:
Yes I consider myself absolutely free, and I still receive harassment.
Although since I have gotten my book out, it's more on a verbal level,
or
receiving things in the mail that are attempts to trigger my
programming,
or like messing with my mail, and things like that.
WAYNE MORRIS:
I would like to go into a bit more detail about the kinds of things you
were used by your handlers for?
BRICE TAYLOR:
That's a big one. I was used by a member of the National Security Agency
and someone that was oftentimes close to Presidents - I was programmed
with what he called "Mind Files" and I had government Mind Files where
I was programmed to have perfect photographic recall of documents that
I was
programmed to read and remember in my head. It was like having a
computer
brain; a human computer at your access. Along with that, I was also used
with these Mind Files in order to be like a postal bank of communication
between the elite members who were bringing out the New World Order in
order to keep their world plan orchestrated and organized. I was also
used
as a sex slave to Presidents and foreign leaders and entertainers here
and
abroad, in order to deliver programmed messages from the elite in order
to
keep the plan smoothly running and operating.
I was also used on lower levels in my community with money laundering,
pornography, prostitution. It was endless.
WM:
Do you have memories of the details of the information they were
keeping in your Mind Files?
BT:
Oh yes, years of it. I spent years documenting everything. It's very
classified projects and plans for the New World Order.
WM:
Can you tell us in terms of alerting the public about what kinds of
things
they are planning to bring about this New World Order, and what they
envision that this would be?
BT:
>From what I heard on the inside, in my experience sitting among
these
so-called elite people, the financial elite - their plan is for a world
takeover because they feel that genetically and in every other way
physicially, the populations of the earth are inferior - of an inferior
genetic strain. What they are attempting to do is to bring down the
population through various contrived means - which is a whole other
suject
all on its own - in order to bring these people to death so that the
planet will be left pristine and untouched for their future
progeny.
WM:
It might be a bit too late for that ...
BT:
Yeah. They feel that - and certainly I don't have the most up to date
information - survivors who have come out since I did, have more current
information of the plan. I am certain they have had to change it and
alter
it in order to bring it through - they feel that what is their ace in
the
hole this time, because they have tried this many, many other
generations -
it's almost like a game of wits of the most intellectual and financial
power brokers being able to see what kind of game they can do here on
the
small minds of the planet - these people are unwitting victims. Even
people who aren't under mind control are victims of all this and will
be in the future.
What I understood was that they were planning a complete and utter
economic collapse of the nations that would make the Depression of 1929
look like child's play and through that, bringing people financially to
their knees, they would then come in and control them, and bring in
whatever other measures they would want to in the guise of rescue -
when it certainly wouldn't be that at all. Personally I would
like to put a call out to people who are in any way spiritually
connected, knowing that this plan can never be able to be brought about
as the people even at the higher levels that are participating, may be
participating without knowing what they have been participating in,
such as members of the intelligence community who have been
compartmentalized in their knowledge of what projects they were
participating in. I would certainly put scientists that are inventors
in that category. I would put people that are in the Masonic Order that
are perhaps at the lower levels and are serving the King at the higher
levels without realizing that what they are putting their energy into
thinking that they are helping children and people that are in need of
help - what they are doing actually is serving the highest levels of
evil and corruption and destruction of men, women and children.
People need to realize that these people they are serving are
turning against their own and that we need to take back our own
spiritual power and stay connected spiritually in order to know what to
do and how to act, and how to see the truth, and how to discern what
lies and propaganda and strategies have been given over the television,
over movies with intentional strategies.
I sat with the men who strategized about what thoughts and belief
systems
they were trying to get people to believe so that they could continue
with
the plans. Mind control was their ace in the hole this time, because
they
felt that there couldn't be any mess-ups, and no human frailty or
weakness
of mind or conscience if people were under mind control.
So I would just ask people to please open their eyes, and to begin to
not
just take what they see that is given out by the government and the
intelligence community as truth and reality, but to begin to question
and
think on their own.
WM:
Specifically how do you think mind control would be used in terms of a
takeover implementation?
BT:
I think there are people they have in positions of power, not only in
the
military but in political and religious circles who are themselves under
mind control and can be used as puppets to do whatever they are
instructed
to do from higher up levels. People think that we elect our presidents
and
I have sat with the people who planned who the presidents were going to
be
and groomed them, and told them what to do, and what to say, and how to
say it, and when to say it, and when not to. And I delivered all kinds
of
messages of instructions to presidents and world leaders about what to
do
and what not to do. I watched as people who were good people and weren't
involved were manipulated, brainwashed and controlled by persons like
myself who were programmed, dressed in jewels and beautiful clothes,
with
all the fancy and sophisticated sexual innuendoes and techniques that I
myself, my daughter, others were programmed to do and go in and just --
if
these men were at all able to be coerced they were manipulated and then
they were blackmailed. These people who are in positions of
power know how to find out and research what people's weaknesses are,
whether they are sex, drugs, sexual perversion, financial gain -- they
lure them in and once people have been forced and coerced to
participate and do the dirty deed - and a lot of times it was filmed,
videotaped and documented - and these people who were already in
positions of financial, political, whatever power, were then told 'this
will be public knowledge and information if you don't go along with
us'.
I watched people being coerced at the highest levels at parties of the
elite, where cocaine was flowing, drugs, alcohol, whatever anyone
wanted -
sex with children, whatever - anything they wanted - people were given.
It
was perversion at the highest level.
WM:
When you speak of the global elite, I just finished airing interviews
with
Fritz Springmeier and Cisco Wheeler and they speak of this global elite
as
being what is known as the Illumaniti. Is that your
understanding?
BT:
Actually I couldn't name it. It was never called that inside, but I
will go so far as to say it is some of the old money families ... the
reason I
don't name names is there are too many of them, number one ... the names
aren't going to help us sort out the problem, but the information is.
And I was clearly told by a member of White House
Intelligence for 29 years that I could tell what happened, but not to
name the names. I want my children brought into safety and healing, and
I believe that my children's level of healing isn't going to much
different than what is going to be needed for some of these people who
have been involved at the highest level.
WM:
Let me go back to the point about the economy. How specifically do you
think they will manipulate the economy to bring it down?
BT:
I think we have all lived in an inflated society, not just the
government,
but we have all been trained to use credit cards, buy on credit, and
really we own virtually nothing anymore. If you do a crash on the
financial things people have invested in - it's all just a mind game
anyway - none of it's real. It cripples the economy. The specific means
of how that is to be done I would say probably has fingers and feelers
into the IRS, all the world banking systems that are in place, have
been for years. If you follow the money, you will find a lot of the
answers.
WM:
Do you believe there will be, for example, a stock market crash?
BT:
I don't like to predict these kinds of things but I would say that is a
strategy that in the past I have heard and know has been used in the
past.
I would feel like I would be disrespectful to people to say that I know
that to be sure, but I have certainly heard it. But I have been out for
a
number of years and things change and strategies change. They alter
them as they perhaps are uncovered or being a problem to the plan.
WM:
What do you feel that the public can do to thwart their intentions?
BT:
I think people need to contact their local politicians and demand
information be divulged about the government experiments, the medical,
radiation, drug experiments, mind control experiments - all of that. I
think as people start learning about the internal structure of the
Masonic
Order and how the programming is working and how people's brain waves
can
be altered and messed with, even at a distance ... I think people need
to
get very instructed and educated about what has gone on. I think people
need to begin to simplify their lives ... financially and in all ways in
order to be able to take the time to evolve spiritually and see what's
really going on and connect deeply. Unfortunately I think people are
going
to have the opportunity to make a spiritual stand as people were during
the times of Nazi Germany where they housed babies and people who were
going to be killed due to a sick genetic belief system. I believe that
as people are able to really take a stand and understand and help that
it will turn things around, but I think a lot has been put into place
and it's going to take some time to undo it ... obviously with all the
people who are under mind control who need to be healed.
WM:
>From the global elite perspective, what do they consider
threats to their
plan?
BT:
I think the exposure of the plan would be a threat to their plan ...
people being in charge of themselves and understanding that there are
projects such as the HAARP project that are altering the frequency of
the planet and the minds of the people that are here and demanding that
that project be stopped ... stopping the military from being
able to hide research and instrumentation and experimentation of
weaponry that is oftentimes unable to be seen ... it is invisible but
it is damaging to the public and to the world. Demand to know what
their tax dollars are being used for ... which, from my perspective,
people are paying taxes in order that all this research be done on mind
control, on everything else ... and they are paying for their own
demise, paying for their own destruction.
They are fuelling the government agencies and the military who have been
given such a high priority on this earth for destruction instead of
funding education and teaching children how to think and critically
analyze, and empowering people. It's all built on a military mind, and
bent on destruction, and control, and power.
WM:
When you had access to this information, what was their time frame for
bringing this about or did this come up?
BT:
Within the next couple of years ... the plan was intended to be
culminated
by the year 2000.
WM:
Is there a particular significance to the years 1998 and 1999 in terms
of
their own occult belief system?
BT:
It's a perversion of Christianity, it's a perversion of Christ.
Everything
that I ever saw was a perversion of everything that is good ...
WM:
I have heard a number of survivors talk about "end-time programming", do
you have any knowledge of that and what it entails?
BT:
I had that too ... I never actually got to what my job was, but I knew
that there was a job I was programmed to have and do during those end
times. I think that people were programmed and are still programmed to
create endless chaos. With the general population being so ignorant
about the mind control technology, about how targeted energy can affect
brain waves, about all of the higher level technology ... that they are
blinded to all of this ... and that's dangerous.
WM:
Do you feel that therapists and other professionals have made any
headway
to disable this kind of programming?
BT:
I think the therapists who have been working diligently in this for
years,
and I highly honour them. I am very grateful, and I think they have
done it a lot, and they have done it against all odds, and at a great
sacrifice
professionally and in every way. I think that certainly bringing the
programming to light and to conscious awareness dismantles much of it,
and
I think that EEG biofeedback technology is something therapists can use
so
instead of taking 10-15 years to reintgrate someone with DID, that it
can
be done within a year or two without so much disruption to the person's
functional life.
WM:
How long do you think it has taken them to actually program these
people to the level they can be used to participate in the plans?
BT:
Usually it's the intergenerational abuse, so children that are going to
be
used on official levels are programmed first and it takes years. I
understand that starting in the seventies, children that weren't from
intergenerational families began to be programmed in daycare centres
which
is where you have the McMartin preschool case and all of these cases
where the children told what happened, and were either initially
believed and the people from the inside came out and said this never
happened and had the cases turned around and make the children look not
credible.
That's another question I always ask people. As a child when I told, how
would I have know about all the sexual stuff unless I had seen it?
Adults
need to logically think about how a child would ever even conceive of
this
kind of horror, and yet not just one or two children are coming up with
this, but hordes of children from all over the world. People
have got to
start looking at this logically. This is not just the stupid False
Memory
Syndrome Foundation -- this is something much bigger.
Children have better things to be doing and don't have the ability to
create this kind of organized horror ...
WM:
You alluded to child prostitution and pornography. How closely is this
connected to these global elites and the plans with the New World Order?
BT:
From my perspective and experience, I believe the child pornography and
prostitution was done for their pleasure and entertainment. My daughter
and my son were prostituted, taken to parties where the elite or
anybody who wanted to have sex with them was able to go in and have sex
with children. I think it is used as an incredible fund-raising ability
to bring in large amounts of money underground with child pornography
in international markets where it is highly sought after and brings in
a lot of money for their operations.
WM:
In your opinion, how widespread do you think trafficking in children is
going on today?
BT:
I think that it's enough that if normal people knew how widespread it
was,
it would bring them to their knees. It's like Ted Gunderson says, as an
ex
member of the FBI, in California they knew exactly where all the stolen
cars were but no one had any idea about any statistics or any idea about
where all the missing children went ...
WM:
In your opinion can you estimate how many you think have been
programmed,
how many are mind control victims?
BT:
I never heard or saw a number on the inside. I know there are a lot of
people healing, and I get letters from survivors all over the world. A
statistic I did hear from a member of the intelligence community one
time
was for the Presidential model project where women were programmed to
sexually service presidents and the elite was 3000 in this
country. That
would mean there were 3000 women, and then as in my case, my daughter
would follow in my footsteps. It's like a pyramid game. As the
generations go on, the numbers of people gets larger as the families
continue to propagate.
WM:
Can you speak to what kind of similarities you see in survivors'
accounts,
and what geographical areas they are from?
BT:
Actually, physically they are from all over the world, so I haven't
really
seen 'everybody is from California' or 'everybody is from Nevada'. It's
not like that. But people do name a lot of the same military bases and
I will just say for myself and my daughter were programmed heavily at
Point ______ Naval Base where they had dolphin tanks in research, and
there were places at Edwards Air Force Base and all sorts of different
locations. But I think our commonalities are that we are all naming
either major medical hospitals where arms of different medical research
projects were done, or military bases, or NASA stations ... it's an
organized pictures. It's not just some little satanic cult operating
here and there.
It's all very organized.
WM:
Have the people you have spoken to had similar experiences in terms of
starting from an early age, and being exposed to these satanic rituals,
abuses and what percentage of people are involved in the government mind
control that you have spoken about?
BT:
Actually most of the survivors I have met have been used more at local
levels, not within the government, but used more at a lower level.
However
there have been ten or twelve other Presidential models that I have
met. I have met women who come up to me and are afraid to give me much
of their story, but will say so-and-so was also my abuser, or they
remember the same man. A lot of my validation has come from not naming
the names and for many of these women who are so frightened and have
never read my book and they find me out in the hall, and corner me, and
name the names and oftentimes they are some of the high level
perpetrators that were also my abusers. I quietly validate
them and they go off and heal knowing they are not crazy.
WM:
I want to also to talk about the criminal connection to other organized
crime, and particularly trafficking in children, and I wondered if you
could shed any information about what you have been exposed to.
BT:
As far as the criminal connection, my memories and my experiences as a
child were heavily Mob involved as well as CIA and government, different
medical universities and military bases that were used.
BT:
As far as that criminal activity, how it all weaves in, I believe is
just
as ___ that are used in order to benefit from the child trafficking and
is
able to use these children and certainly the pornography and
prostitution,
and to bring in other children -- there's a place in my book where I
talk
aobut how I was used under mind control to enlist other children into an
automobile in California. These were children, as far as I was aware as
a
child, that probably did not have the background or programming, or had
not
even been abused, that were kidnapped off the street and enticed with
the
use of another child to bring them in. And then once they were in the
car
they were trapped and I watched as they were used in pornography and
were
used in snuff films in which they were actually killed during the
filming,
and then were disposed of in whatever manner. Certainly this type of
what
some of these sick and sadistic people think of as entertainment that
feeds
their own perversions and their own sick senses, is what has really
brought
in a large financial base. This has been exposed by other women who have
talked about the funds being used for black operations, CIA government
mind
control, different medical experiments that were being done. This is
where
a lot of the funding for these activities comes from.
WM:
These tie in with the criminal activities such as (as you mentioned)
child
pornography, prostitution, drug trafficking. How widespread, in your
opinion, is trafficking in children?
BT:
I think it is very widespread, and I can think that the public has been
seriously fooled by the False Memory Syndrome Foundation and a lot of
the
media that has gone on saying that all these cases that have come up
with
the preschools and the different agencies around the country where
children
are coming forward and telling what happened to them -- that does
include
pornography. Statements are being made in sexual ways and certainly
about
abuse in the child's mind, and they are being discredited. And I believe
the children are telling the truth. They are saying the same things that
happened to me and lot of other women across the country. And we are
certainly being discredited by the media. From what I understand and
from
the first persona accounts I hear, the people who are my age and go back
even older and younger are talking about the amount of children in
preschools that have been programmed, that may have not been in a
generational ritual abuse ties, but who have been programmed and used in
the pornography and prostitution in order to create great avenues of
funding. I think that combined with kids who are found missing of the
street and kidnapped in an attempt to use them as a means of funding -
all
of this horror continues to go unchecked by the public population that
finds all of this so incredulous - that they don't even believe it. So
here
we have survivors and children who are also revictimized by a
disbelieving
public and oftentimes uninformed mental health and church system who are
unable to believe that this kind of atrocity has gone on, so they are
unable to come to these children's aid or to the adult survivors who are
attempting to find avenues of relief and help in order to stop this and
help themselves.
WM:
It really seems that their biggest coverup for all of these atrocities
is
the public's disbelief.
BT:
Walter Bowart who wrote "Operation Mind Control" has a blurb in his book
that says the big secrets are protected by their incredulity. And
certainly
I believe that those who strategized this plan were very well aware that
when all of us started talking about these things that just like in Nazi
Germany - people still today believe that a lot of those horrors didn't
happen - that people will turn away and deny what really happened
because
it is so horrific and incredulous.
WM:
Speaking of Nazi Germany, there have been a number of allegations that
there has been Nazi involvement, particularly in regard to Project
Paperclip, of importing Nazis after WWII into the United States. Have
you
come across any Nazi connections in your experience?
BT:
Yes I have, and just to enlarge and expand a little bit on Project
Paperclip, Linda Hunt wrote a book about this in which she explained
that
Mark Phillips who was an intelligence officer and he personally told me
that he was part of bringing in some of these Nazi doctors - bringing
them
into our country and giving them immunity - that he was unaware at the
time
of the full ramifications of what these people were doing within our
country. Right there is the Nazi connection of how these men who were a
lot
of the scientists and doctors who had used the population of prisoners
in
the concentration camps as their unwitting and unwilling and suffering
people as their population of research and how then they were brought to
our country and put into the major universities and research centers in
order to further their research mind control and were given over to the
population of ritual abuse survivors in order to have now another group
to
experiment on of which certainly myself and my children were a part of
that
- but also included genetic experiments that were done to me and to my
children. As far as the Nazi connections that I am aware of
in my past, I
am aware of my mother telling me my father went to some neo nazi meeting
along with my grandmother when I was just a little girl. I know that in
a
lot of my recovery work the symbol that I kept drawing over and over was
the swastika, the Nazi symbol. I saw that symbol as a child at some of
the
satanic ritual ceremonies that were done to me and others and certainly
I
believe that is a very large part of all of this. As society continues
to
want to even put Nazi Germany and the horrors of those people that
suffered
in the concetration camps under the rug and not look at it - it
continues
to proliferate here - even within our country - as these people are
still
getting away with doing the human experimentation and torturing people
today.
WM:
Do you feel that the experiments that were done in the Nazi
concentration
camps during the holocaust were for the purposes of developing mind
control?
BT:
Definitely. In fact last year I went to the Holocaust Museum in
Washington,
D.C. and saw their pictures of the actual brain experimentation and a
lot
of the research that was done, and it's all there for people that have
the
eyes to see - that this absolutely was experimentation - there are
pictures
of people being experimented on.
WM:
Do you have, in your experience - did you come across Josef Mengele in
the
United States? A number of survivors of mind control have named him as
being involved in their abuse in the U.S. post WWII era - was that part
of
your experience?
BT:
No actually, it wasn't but there were doctors at UCLA Neuropsychiatric
Institute who very instrumental in my programming and where I reported
to
oftentimes by myself as a result of responding to my programmed
instructions to report there and where my programming was checked in on,
and made into whatever the needs were at the time. There were doctors
all
over the country that I reported to in various military installations
and
certainly UCLA.
WM:
A number of people I have interviewed have talked about the occult
ideology
of these groups that are responsible for perpetrating mind control.
What do
you think the significance of that is?
BT:
I think that historically now - I have been able now to read back and to
understand that the occult plans for this New World Order go back
generations and were built on very heavily with what seemingly looks
like
religious ideology. I believe that the occult belief system and the
evilness of that and the destructiveness, and certainly interlaced with
superstitious belief is what continues to allow these things to
proliferate
as people's belief systems. They belief these perversions give them the
power to take it forward into these times. I think that it's like for
the
satanists to believe that these satanic rituals and all of the
perversions
that are done during these rituals allow them in their belief system to
believe they are gaining power by doing all these horrors and stealing
energy from children and babies, in all of the different ways they are
killing. It allows them to continue on. Until these belief systems are
cleaned up and until people (the good people on the planet) are able to
weave through their own denial that this level of atrocity could still
be
going on today, I think that's where the problem lies. It's until the
people who are perpetrating this occultic belief meet up with the
denial of
people, even Christians, who can't believe this and say they are
frightened
by it, and don't want to deal with it - it's my experience in watching
that
if people do nothing that the children continue to be tortured and
abused.
WM:
Do you think this ties in in a general sense with these groups that have
been using mind control in their motivation towards more and more power
and
wealth? I could ask, "Don't these old money power groups have enough
money
already?"
What is motivating them to perpetuate these atrocities?
BT:
What I saw from the inside sitting in a group of these men who were
strategizing - it's almost like some of these people are so unbalanced
intellectually - certainly fuelled by whatever horrific abusive,
unloving,
uncaring systems they may have come from - that they view and believe
very
strongly in the intellect and not feelings or any kind of caring or
love or
anything like that. They more or less look at this as a game of their
intellect - like a group of powerful men sitting in a room thinking up
strategies of how they might be able to control the world and what
benefits
they might be able to have. From what I saw, it seemed like it was a big
game to them and in fact they used with me - and part of my programming
was
a chess game where they used different pieces of that chess game to
represent different world leaders and this was how the game was played,
and
it was all used in a very symbolic way. I believe these people are very
intelligent and are able to strategize and come up with a plan but it's
almost as if the stakes have to get raised higher, just like in a poker
game, of who could control who and how successful they would be in
seeing
how they could control the minds of the entire planet.
WM:
I want to ask you if you are aware of any direct government ties to
some of
the satanic cults that seem to have proliferated across North America
and a
lot of survivors have come forward with their accounts of these cults. I
suppose there are a lot of different levels there in terms of their
involvement with the overall government mind control picture. I want to
ask
if you knew of any direct government ties to some of these cults.
BT:
The government ties to the cults are the politicians that I believe have
realized and are very aware that people in the cults, especially in the
satanic cults where they are born and have multiple personality systems
from the abuse in the family, are certainly prime candidates because of
their dissociative abilities and inability to stay present in a unified,
whole way with their minds to even know what's going on. I believe that
through the politicians and through the military - the bases were used
with
a lot of the equipment for the mind control and certainly used as a way
to
cover up these experiments by saying they were military projects. There
is
a base in California, Point Magoo Naval Base on the coast there, it was
real close to my house where myself and my children reported. That base
was
until recently armed with a man with a gun in the tower. You want to ask
people what - in my recovery I wanted to ask people, "why would you
think
that a military base here in California on the coast would need to have
men
with submachine guns standing up in the guard tower?" I
believe that the
military was used as a branch of the government in order to house these
projects in a way they could be kept secret from the public and yet here
the public is paying taxes and actually funding these research projects
in
ways that they have no idea where their money is going. People are only
beginning to demand to know about these secret projects through the
Freedom
of Information Act. I think the government ties are very strong. There
are
certain individuals within the government who have certainly been a
part of
this New World Order plan. From what I saw with the presidents all being
involved with their Masonic connections, and certainly some of them with
higher Masonic connections than others. The mind control technology is
hidden at the level of the 33 degree Masons. I believe this branches
out to
a lot of top hierarchy of a lot of organizations and not just the
government - but also into the major corporations of the world where a
lot
of the corporate heads have been manipulated into this system. Where
there
is talent, money, power and control the secrecy has worked its way in.
WM:
Do you have any inside information about their control over the media
and
connections there, in how they manipulate the media?
BT:
Absolutely. I was amongst them when they were planning in the late 60's
and
70's when they were planning strategies of how the information would go
into the newspapers and I listened as they talked about some of the
major
families who owned some of the newspapers, and how through owning a lot
of
the major media, which I believe now is pretty complete if people were
able
to look back and trace the histories of a lot of the media, they would
be
able to see that this is all pretty much locked up and these things are
censored when any of these subjects begin to work their way into the
media.
I know one intelligence officer told me there was a Russian
intelligence
officer who was being interviewed on television and they asked him a
question and he said "the Americans have won the war of the mind" and
they
whisked him off the air and he never even showed back up - that was it
- it
never went any farther. I believe the media is in a large coverup right
now
and people are listening, and hearing a lot of stories that have been
strategized in an attempt to have them believe what these people want
them
to believe instead of actually getting the truth of what has gone on.
WM:
The media is currently creating a lot of furor over this latest Clinton
scandal. I wondered if you could comment on that and if there is any
indications that any of these women who are coming forward have been
used
like you have been?
BT:
As a Presidential model, and speaking on behalf of other Presidential
models and women I have spoken to within the last week or so - we all
feel
quite a victory that his reputation is being challenged - and that the
truth is being brought forth. I would like to commend Paula Jones and
even
stand with her as knowing this is a reality, and this man needs to be
stopped in his sexual perversions. I would say that personally for me, I
was devastated when he was re-elected and I should and do try to remind
myself all the time that the Presidents aren't really elected but I
think
it is going to take the Americans of the world to take back this
country,
and to really research and find out what is going on and to stop it and
to
realize that our leaders, even if they are not in control with
themselves,
may have an agenda here that is not for the good of the whole.
WM:
Do you think the scandal may have possibly been engineered against
Clinton
by another power group - with not good intentions either?
BT:
I have no way of knowing that. I think this man has perpetrated more
horror
to women on this planet, as well as a lot of the violence that has gone
on
- that continuous attempts for it to be leaked out to alternative media
sources and the American public still is so - I don't know if they are
so
busy trying to earn a living for their families that they don't have
time
to research what their leaders are doing. It seems like up until now
people
have been pretty shortsighted. There are and have to be good people
within
the White House and within the intelligence community who may not know
what
is going on, and don't understand the mind control or the levels of how
it
has been used to manipulate and certainly may be behind some of these
scandals, or allowing them to leak at least some of the truth to the
press.
I think it's a wonderful thing that at least our President is being
called
into check about some of the allegations that are made repeatedly
against
him as far as his sexuality and adultery, and all the perversions that
follow it.
WM:
In your experience, is Clinton any different than any other presidents
in
that regard?
BT:
No.
WM:
What do you feel is necessary to bring all of this into more public
limelight to expose these atrocities?
BT:
I think it is going to take a lot of education for people, and I think
it
is going to take the public waking up and coming out of denial about the
level of evil that people are able to perpetrate on other people. I
think
people are going to need to take the survivor accounts into a belief
arena
in order to stop what has gone on because everybody is going to be a
victim
of this. Certainly the victims of mind control have suffered immensely
through years of torture and trauma, but society also is a victim of
this
because until people are reintegrated and deprogrammed they are a
threat to
peace in society. As people well know, the programming that was done was
not as effective and able to control people as they thought and as
people
break down their programming. It's a problem for society as people
become
violent. We find children who are killing their parents; we find that
behind that is satanic abuse but it's not allowed into the court system
and
the reality of this has been covered up in so many different ways that
the
public isn't getting the truth of what is really happening?
WM:
What plans do you and other survivors have of bringing this into more
of a
public view?
BT:
Well certainly Wayne, I speak out whenever I have a chance whether it be
radio, tv, workshops, conferences - I speak out all over the nation and
that is certainly one avenue of giving out information. Writing books,
and
I encourage other survivors to write what happened to them and get it
out.
I think that another Presidential Commission needs to be brought where a
greater number of women are able to come forward with their stories to
stand with Valerie Wolf and her survivor clients who were so courageous
and
stepped forward and opened the door on the mind control experiments. I
think it is going to take a grassroots movement of women who have been
through this to expose it and stop it. I think that will be a very
powerful
avenue.
WM:
Brice, I would like to thank you very much for joining us in this radio
series. I know it took a lot of courage to come forward as you have,
and I
wish you all the strength in your ongoing struggle to bring this to
light.
BT:
Thank you Wayne. I really appreciate the opportunity of sharing my story
with you."
Thanks
for the Memories
2
Acknowledgements..........................................................................................................................3
Foreward by Walter
Bowart: Thanks for the Memmemmormee!?
...........................................7
Historical
Overview: Mind Control in the Modern Context
.....................................................12
Project Monarch:
Nazi Mind Control by Ron Patton
................................................................14
Manufacturing the
Mind Controlled
Slave..................................................................................25
Awakening to the
Realities of Mind
Control...............................................................................31
Authors's
Introduction...................................................................................................................35
Chapter One: The
Creation of Human Robot
.............................................................................40
Chapter Two: Early
Childhood Preparation
...............................................................................43
Chapter Three:
We’re Off to See the
Wizard...............................................................................57
Chapter Four: Uncle
Charlie, Kissinger, Hope and their Little
Puppet..................................65
Chapter Five:
Initiation into the Political Arena as a Sex
Slave...............................................74
Chapter Six: JFK
and the Sex
Shuttle..........................................................................................83
Chapter Seven: All
the way with
LBJ...........................................................................................92
Chapter Eight:
Brain Surgery at UCLA took away my Father’s
Free Will ..............................96
Chapter Nine: They
didn’t see me as
Human.............................................................................99
Chapter Ten:
Introduced to Governor Ronald Reagan
...........................................................107
Chapter Eleven:
Mind Control in the
Prisons...........................................................................110
Chapter Twelve:
Nixon, Kissinger, and International Business
............................................116
Chapter Thirteen:
Bob Hope “Let me entertain you.”
.............................................................135
Chapter Fourteen:
Parties at the
Rockefellers..........................................................................147
Chapter Fifteen:
Hope and Kissinger Utilize the Kennedy
Family........................................159
Chapter Sixteen:
Viva Las Vegas
................................................................................................163
Chapter Seventeen:
The Rat Pack
..............................................................................................171
Chapter Eighteen:
Gerald
Ford...................................................................................................183
Chapter Nineteen:
My Programmed Marriage – We’ve
Only Just Begun ...........................186
Chapter Twenty:
Jimmy Carter
..................................................................................................189
Chapter Twenty-one:
The Hollywood
Connection...................................................................190
Chapter Twenty-two:
Prince Phillip, Prince Charles, and Princess Di
.................................203
Chapter
Twenty-three: They Stole My Baby
.............................................................................206
Chapter
Twenty-four: USC: Higher Education or Mind
Control...........................................208
Chapter
Twenty-five: Baby Monarchs are
Born.......................................................................215
Chapter Twenty-six:
Dodger Diamonds
....................................................................................239
Chapter
Twenty-seven: Education
2000...................................................................................243
Chapter
Twenty-eight: Reagan, Kissinger, Bush and More Horrors
....................................247
Chapter
Twenty-nine: Back to the
Future.................................................................................255
Chapter Thirty:
UCLA Neuropsychiatric
Institute...................................................................264
Chapter Thirty-one:
Weaponry Technology of the Future
.....................................................268
Chapter Thirty-two:
Robot
Breakdown.....................................................................................274
Chapter
Thirty-three: Bill Clinton and
Hillary.........................................................................277
Chapter
Thirty-four: Excuse Me, I Would Like My Life
Back................................................280
Chapter
Thirty-five: Secret Societies
.........................................................................................296
Chapter Thirty-six:
The Council’s
Plan......................................................................................299
Chapter
Thirty-seven: What the World Needs
Now................................................................308
Chapter
Thirty-eight: A Mother and Grandmother’s Sorrow
................................................316
Epilogue
........................................................................................................................................321
Survivor Resources
.......................................................................................................................325
Suggested
Reading........................................................................................................................325
3
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
TO MY CHILDREN
COLLECTIVELY--Mountains of love are still held in
reserve for each of you as I take
this necessary step
toward insuring your ultimate freedom. Please
forgive me for divulging and making
public the persons
and events that should have remained private to your
lives. However, the magnitude
of the problem we
face requires that I do as God guides me. I know that
in a 'normal' healthy family I
would have been
able to discuss this all with you so we could have
decided how to do this together. But,
that was not
possible. Forgive me for taking any liberties that may
effect your lives in ways I could not
have anticipated. I
have put my decisions before the Lord and trust in
His infinite wisdom to lead us all
to sweet peace and
freedom. The mother-child bond we share has very
powerfully been the wind beneath
my wings.
KEVIN--My child who
was also my friend. Thanks for always being so
helpful, capable, thoughtful of
others, kind and
cheerful. I am proud of you and pray for your release
so that you can take the many
talents and gifts
you possess and use them in ways you and you alone
choose. I love you Kev.
KELLY--A promise is
a promise! And I will keep mine to you. I will
never let go, and I will never stop
exposing this and
seeking help, no matter what. Thank you for always
being so kind and loving. Your
gentle nature and
the immense love you are shines through even the mind
control you are under, in ways
everyone can feel.
I pray for your release from the programmed state
that keeps you shut away from
yourself and the
world. I miss you and know that God is working
powerfully in and through you to bring
healing to you and
others. I love's ya.
DANNY--My child who
walks to the beat of a different drummer. I wait in
great anticipation to see what
you do with the
many individual gifts and talents that are yours, yet
not yet yours. I grieve for the
necessary
separation that caused you to have to grow up without a mom
at a very early age. I pray that
God will restore
those years in divine ways. I love you more than you
could ever know!
TO THE BABY SON
TAKEN FROM MY ARMS AT BIRTH--My soul longs for you. I
still grieve the
immense loss of
your physical presence. I've missed you over the years
and look forward to our reunion if
it is God's will!
God has promised restoration of family and I look
forward to meeting you again, only this
time as a big
strong man!
MY PARENTS--Thank
you for allowing me passage into the genetic and
spiritual structures that would
insure the success
of my mission here on earth. I love you for birthing
me and for allowing me to have
the necessary
experiences my soul required to learn and make my
contribution. Dad, your ability to be
ahead of your time
and Mom, your ability to unconditionally love, even
under mind control, helped me
find my way,
ultimately. I know now that you were both caught in the
same dark web that I found myself
in. I love and
forgive you both.
CRAIG--We never had
a chance, but we did love each other through it.
Thank you for your gentle nature
and for supporting
me in the ways that you were able toward my
recovery. I forgive you. Do you forgive
me?
MY BROTHERS--Like
Pop told us: "May the Truth Set Us All Free!"
CATHERINE GOULD,
PHD--What would I have done without you? Thank you for
so many things, the
first of which
saved my life ...the clever safety letter attached to my
memory packets that I believe kept
me alive. Your
continued support and helpful listening ear proved to
give me that extra leg up that I
needed to trust
myself in order to go forward with this manuscript.
4
MARGIE PAUL,
PhD--Thank you for helping me connect to my innate
spirituality and my inner child
(children) and for
holding and loving those little one's within me as I
healed. Thanks for your willingness
to go into the
fearsome darkness with me and for your dedication to
love, stretching beyond professional
rules to serve in
the ways I needed. I love you!
TED
GUNDERSON--Thank you for helping me begin to stay safe with
security measures and
bodyguards and for
kneeling before the Lord while the Holy Spirit
worked within us, so that together we
could work toward
exposing the horrors that have been a part of so many
victims' lives, in order that
those planning the
New World Order would fail. Thank you for being
there over the years to remind me
when I became
discouraged, "Remember who wins in the end!" May God's
larger plan set the captives
free at last!
WALTER BOWART--May
God bless you abundantly for holding the space of
truth for victims of all ages
starting way back
in 1978 when your first edition of Operation Mind
Control hit the bookstores. You have
stayed in the
battle for truth and justice and I thank you for
continuing to hold onto the reality which
most were faint of
heart and not strong enough to endure. Thank you for
being there!
JOE--Thanks for
encouraging me to continue and for teaching me the
place mat method.
LAUREN
STRATFORD--Thank you for being courageous enough to heed the
call of the Lord when you
walked out in front
of us all to pioneer a healing path for those who
wanted to be healed. Thank you for
your encouragement
in times of trouble and may God bless you for your
continued support of survivors
all over the world.
I love you.
LYNN
MOSS-SHARMON--Who had the spiritual courage, fortitude and
determination to found Stone
Angels to support
mind control victims in Canada, and then ACHES-MC
(ADVOCACY COMMITTEE
FOR HUMAN
EXPERIMENTATION SURVIVORS-MIND CONTROL). Your work is
crucial, as you've
documented the
reality of mind control experimentation through the
chronicling of countless victims'
testimony. May the
Great Spirit richly reward you for your beautiful
spiritual purity and faith ...and your
work here!
BOBBI GAGNE-May the
love and compassion you have shown for countless
survivors return to you
multiplied. Thank
you for educating many in the field of law
enforcement so they may now help victims
who are still
suffering. Thank you for doing what Christ would do! I
love you!
ALICE MILLER--The
example you showed me through your books was
priceless. Through them I was to
learn that by
trusting my own experience, especially those that I had
as a child, that I might transcend
what is currently
known in order to more fully advocate for children.
STUART PERLMAN,
PHD--Thanks for telling me the truth was within, when
others told me to forget the
past and live in
the present. You were right! Thank you for listening
for hours to the horror of my past. I
know it was very
difficult for you to hear. God Bless You!
CLAIRE
REEVES--President, Mothers Against Sexual Abuse (MASA)--Thank
you for holding the shield
of protection for
children and for being there for and with me, even
in court, when I
began exposing my affluent abusers back in 1992! I
know it has been difficult at times
and that you have
had to withstand much opposition, but just know that
many have been helped because
of the work you
have done! God Bless You.
MARGARET-My sister
in Christ. Thank you for being my trusted secretary,
best friend, and support
team through the
rough times. I thank Jesus for guiding you into my
life so that together we could fulfill
5
His plan for
freeing His children, large and small! May God bless and
keep you all the days of your life.
You are so precious
to me.
MARY LEWIS--For
constantly doing what Jesus would do. Without funds,
outward direction, or much
support you have
single-handedly done a miraculous job in helping
endless victims of mind control
break free and
heal. May God bless and keep you safe as you continue
His work!
LOWELL LEWIS--For
bringing humor and love to your work in supporting
Mary and the many victims
that the two of you
have worked with and loved over the years. Thanks
for sharing your Bible with me.
STUART
MERLOT--Thank you for your continued support of me (especially
with the editing) and your
awesome devotion
toward exposing and ending the inner workings of the
New World Order and of the
mind control that
fuels it. Thank you for not stopping, even when it
seemed hopeless. May your
selflessness and
dedication be richly rewarded by God.
JUDITH--Thanks for
your loving support and help in the initial
typesetting.
DORIS--My loving
prayer partner. Thank you for your continued prayers
for my family's release. I love
you.
TERRY-Thank you for
your loving support through the intense birthing of
this book.
LAURENCE--Thank you
for teaching me how to rest and for being my friend.
ELIZABETH--Thank
you for being the beautiful light of compassion and
love, and for crying when you
first heard me
speak about my life. Thanks for being with Kelly while I
studied the brainwave technology
that enabled me to
help her at home and for encouraging me to keep
learning, when I felt I couldn't do it!
Your constant
prayers have been an incredible upliftment! God Bless You.
CHIP TATUM--Thank
you for heroically sharing your first hand witness of
CIA mind control, even
validating it on
video with me! I'm sorry you had to go to prison for
telling the truth, but I'm so grateful
that now you are
free! God Bless you and your wife in your new life.
ALL THOSE THAT WENT
BEFORE--I want to thank all those courageous souls
who gave their lives in
the service of
ending this abuse.
JESUS--The love of
my life, my Lord and Savior. Thank You for Your
leading. Thank you for bringing the
Holy Spirit to lead
and guide me through the danger to make this
contribution. It is because of You that I
survived through
this life and healed in order to bring the truth to
light. Continue to work in me to create
my mind to be more
like Yours!
6
A NOTE TO RITUAL
ABUSE SURVIVORS AND/OR THOSE UNDER MIND CONTROL,
WHETHER
CONSCIOUS AND IN
RECOVERY OR STILL UNCONSCIOUS AND UNAWARE
Certain material
contained within these pages may illustrate the
precepts of mind control. Nothing in
this book should
create any problems in the internal structure of those
who have Dissociative Identity
Disorder (formerly
called Multiple Personality Disorder), or those
currently under mind control;
however, some
survivors report difficulty in reading anything which
relates to their current perception of
their
victimization. Readers who know or suspect they are incest,
ritual abuse, or mind control survivors
and are in therapy
would do well to consult with God before reading
this book.
The mention of an
office, service, or organization in this book does
not constitute endorsement or
recommendation by
the author, and should not be relied upon as such,
but is provided for information
purposes only.
The author, editor,
or publisher can in no way be held liable for the
use or misuse of the information in
this book.
7
Brice Taylor -
Thanks for the Memories
Foreward by Walter
Bowart: Thanks for the Memmemmormee!?1
More than 25 years
have passed since I began research into what was
then called "brainwashing,"
a comically
euphemistic term invented in the 1950's by CIA propaganda
specialist Edward Hunter. It's
been 21 years since
my book on the subject Operation Mind Control was
published internationally, and
five years since it
reappeared as the greatly expanded Limited
Researcher's Edition, featuring an account
of "Lois" that
offers a synopsis of the book you hold in your hands.
Now it can be told. "Lois" is Susan
Ford, whose
pseudonym is Brice Taylor. Her book Thanks for the
Memories, which, by all reports is
greatly anticipated
by an audience better educated than the one I
encountered in the 1970's, is now
published for all
the world to read.
I wrote my book
Operation Mind Control while living in Arizona, still
'a backward state,
dominated by
Federal funds and jobs, and the dissociated and extremely
provincial beliefs that come
with it. In the
70's most of the people I spoke with about what I
called, generically, "mind control"
thought I was
crazy. Those who were not afraid to express their
opinions on the subject believed it to be
impossible. They
strongly believed they could not be made to do
something against their will and
without their own
knowledge. They believed they had indomitable powers
of will, like the CIA funded
psychologist,
Timothy Leary's fellow debater and Watergate burglar, G.
Gordon Liddy. They believed,
beyond a shadow of
a doubt, that they could not be broken, fragmented,
and mentally enslaved by any
technology, even if
it included hypnosis, drugs, electronic brain
stimulation or what came to be called
biological process
control.
My interest in this
subject was piqued by a young man, David, I had
known all my life. He
returned from a
four-year tour with the United States Air Force in a
confused and deeply tormented
state. You could
not say that he had a destroyed mind. He suffered from
complete amnesia about the
past years of
service in the USAF, but he was making straight "A's" in
premedical courses at a prominent
University.
I did not recognize
him as he sat, slumped in an overstuffed chair in
my living room in 1973. He
had undergone a
couple of years of treatment with a competent
psychiatrist and was finally asked by her,
"Do you want to
know what this is and how it was created, or do you
just want to be able to function?" He
decided the
functioning was good enough, and his treatment accelerated,
taking a wide turn away from
the historical
events he remembered, which included being a "human tape
recorder" and witnessing the
most secret
negotiations with North Vietnam and with "Royals" of the
Arabic persuasion who beheaded a
prisoner he had
just witnessed being interrogated. The image of this
decapitation still haunts him in his
dreams.
In 1973 the
Rockefeller Commission's Report revealed that CIA Director
Richard Helms had
supposedly
destroyed 153 separate files on a long running, top secret
project called MKULTRA, as his
last act in office.
In years to come many of those files were
discovered as "misplaced" files. They
revealed a long
history of criminal activities by individuals who hid
behind the National Security Act and
ran amok,
arrogantly treating citizens of their own country as just so
many lab rats.
"I can hypnotize a
man -- without his knowledge or consent -- into
committing treason against the
United States..."
-- Dr. George Estabrooks, 1943.
This Canadian-born
Rhodes Scholar was a hypnosis expert and former
Professor at Colgate University
with long-standing
ties to U.S. military and domestic intelligence, and
to Martin Orne, MD, a master
1 James Joyce,
Finnigan's Wake, 1938
8
"spy-chiatrist,"
author of Patty Hearst's "brainwashing" defense, and
founding Board member of the
False Memory
"Spindrome" Foundation.
As I was
researching The Rockefeller Commission's Report, following
anecdotal evidence, putting
the pieces
together, then writing what turned out to be Operation Mind
Control, I felt like the villagers in
this Sufi tale:
An elephant had
entered a cave near a town in Morrocco and had bellowed
all night, keeping the whole
village awake.
Nobody in the town had seen an elephant, nor did anyone
know what an elephant looked
like.
The villagers held
a meeting and four brave people among them
volunteered to go into the cave to
investigate what
was making the strange bellowings.
The first one felt
the elephant's trunk and came running out to report
a large python was making the noise
they heard
The second one felt
afoot and came out to report that a palm tree was
making the noise. The third one felt
the elephant's tail
and came out to report that a broom, obviously
controlled by a witch, was making the
noise.
The fourth villager
felt the elephant's ear and came out to report that
there was nothing to fear because a
large leaf from a
tropical plant was making the noise.
Once they
understood there was nothing to fear, the villagers went to
sleep that night and didn't hear the
elephant snorting
and bellowing as he left the cave. Nor did they
mention it again.
In those days,
shrinks (psychiatrists and psychologists) told me that
what I was reporting were the
results of a
disease called "schizophrenia." The word meant fragmented
personality, but in time,
schizophrenia
turned out to be a familial disease which could be
treated and controlled with medication.
The stories I was
reporting took several years to understand. I
eventually discovered that what I was
reporting was the
real cause of the cryptocracy's trained elephant in
the particular cave next to our
hometown.
I cannot tell you
the experiences Sue Ford reports are accurate to the
letter, since I was not a
witness to all of
them. But, as I revealed in Operation Mind Control
(1994), I once saw Sue on a Palm
Springs golf course
in the company of her alleged handler, Bob Hope. At
that time I was Editor-in-Chief
of Palm Springs
Life magazine, which had just won the "Maggie" Award
for publishing the best city
magazine. It was at
the Bob Hope Classic that I saw Sue, but I didn't
speak to her, as I was busy covering
the happenings and
celebrities, which have graced the magazine since
the 1950's. Sue was one of the Bob
Hope Classic
hostesses, assisting the public and the press in a variety
of functions.
My path crossed
Sue's again years later when I was interviewing another
survivor of mind control,
but I'll spare you
those details. Just read my book. I can tell you
that Sue Ford believes the story she has
written with all
her being, and her account as described herein has
remained consistent.
Most of her
memories, conveyed in her book, she obtained outside of the
therapy setting on the
Island of Kauai,
while journaling on the beach, since she could not
afford a therapist at that time. The
perceived safety of
the location and the steady sound of the waves in
the background provided her with
the ability to
focus inward, allowing intense flashbacks to recur,
including intense memory of her
physical sensations
during those events (called body memories), all of
which she was able to write down
in her journals.
Sue's journals are amazingly free of mistakes, and
that's no small feat since they were
written in
indelible ink. One gets the impression that Sue simply
'downloaded' this material from her
inner 'multiple
personalities,' who were desperately wanting to get
this information out.
Offering up these
truths in these post-False Memory "Spindrome"
Foundation days takes courage.
The well-funded
"foundation," composed of alleged pedophiles and
spy-chiatrists, my term for
professionals who
worked for the CIA in mind control projects over a
period of approximately fifty years,
has led an
effective fight in the courts to establish the fact that a
person can easily be made to believe
things which are
not true. When I asked many of those who would later
sit on the FMSF Board, if a
9
person could be
made to do something against their will and without
their knowledge, they denied that
it was possible in
the mid-seventies.
They have not yet
turned their earlier stance completely around. Nor
have they taken the next
step to offer proof
that a person can be made to do something against
their will and without their
knowledge, but they
have gone far enough with their argument that
"justice is no longer served by
'eyewitness'
accounts." Responding to FMSF lawsuits, the State of
California, I'm told, has made new
laws, which would
disqualify the testimony of anyone who has ever
confessed to having been hypnotized.
Most lawyers and
judges don't understand dissociative disorders because
most "mental health
professionals"
don't understand them, and/or haven't bothered to
educate the judicial branch of
government. To
begin to understand the full range of dissociative
disorders, from Post-traumatic Stress
Disorder to Bipolar
Disorder to the former Multiple Personality
Disorder (now called Dissociative
Identity Disorder),
one must confront the National Security State and
its military/industrial complex,
which created the
killers who all too often came home from their
service to their country to beat and
sexually abuse
their wives and children.
One gets the
impression today that the majority of both "mental health
experts" and judges
believe that
Multiple Personality Disorder can easily be faked during
expert examinations. However,
most professionals
with experience treating DID will tell you that it
is almost impossible to fake an
autonomic response,
the kind of response that is used to assess the
reality of a dissociated state. Faking
an autonomic
response would be about as easy as deliberately dilating
or contracting your pupils without
any change of light
stimulus.
On one case the
Freedom of Thought Foundation sent me to investigate,
the case of Robert Joe
Moody, an alleged
serial killer with a Top Secret security clearance in
the USMC, I brought one of the
leading experts in
the treatment of DID into the prison conference
room. Within minutes this doctor
had the killer
manifesting four different personalities. When he first
switched into the killer personality
the room filled
with heat. The doctor told me it was not unusual for a
whole variety of physical changes
to occur when a
multiple switched. The room quickly getting hot from
the temperature change of
Moody's body when
he switched from one personality to the other is a
good example of the sort of
autonomic response
I'm talking about. I'd like to see even the
best-trained actor do that on cue!
After the interview
with Moody, as we were leaving the prison, the
doctor said to me, "Well, what
do you want to do?
Integrate these personalities, or just let the
little nine-year-old personality take the
punishment (death
by lethal injection) for all the others, just like he
has always been doing."
In the only study
of death row inmates in America, roughly 14% tested
as being undiagnosed cases
of DID. Only a few
prisons were used in this study. It focused only on
convicted murderers and did not
investigate violent
criminals who were convicted of assault or crimes
less than murder. Other noncapital
offenders were
omitted. This study clearly showed the ignorance, or
prejudice, of the American
judicial system,
one in which the diagnosis "malingering" is given to
people suffering from DID.
Malingering is a
psychiatric term that means the subject is faking an
illness. The poorly trained
psychologists and
psychiatrists working as court appointed "expert
witnesses" don't know how to test
nor diagnose
Dissociative Disorders.
The most tragic
moment of Moody's story, for most, is when they view
the police videotape of the
accused killer
being read the Miranda Warnings. Here, clearly, is the
nine-year-old personality, "Bobby,"
picking at a scab
on his hand, speaking in a halting voice, not
understanding who he was, due to
Amnestic Fugue, nor
what the words in the Miranda Warnings meant. It
was the only time the accused
was read his
rights. And as you might expect, Bobby wasn't the killer,
nor was he even "present" at the
10
scene of the crime.
The killer personality was named XE and was, by all
present indications, created
during Moody's
service in the Marine Corps.
"Mental health
professionals" generally overlook the possibility of
deliberate programming. Or
maybe that's part
of the conspiracy against freedom of thought. Many
shrinks are themselves unwitting
accomplices in this
conspiracy. Professional expressions of denial
about the access and deliberate
programming of
dissociated children by agents of National Security
States is about as comforting as if
they'd told you
that the conclusions of the Warren Commission Report
were accurate and correct. Even
certain members of
The International Society for the Study of
Dissociative Disorders has put DID in a
separate legal
category, so that, people expressing multiple
personalities cannot be found "not guilty by
reason of insanity."
Dr. Colin Ross, one
of the leading experts on Dissociative Disorders,
expressed the opinion that
DID may be the
cause of most of the serious problems of our society,
such as gangsterism, drive-by
shootings,
schoolyard assassinations, random acts of terrorism and all
the rest of the trauma America
has been
experiencing over the past few years--an idea not yet examined
by criminologists, prison
experts, and others
who would supposedly protect and serve.
To understand
dissociation is to understand the paradigm shift in our
culture--from an industrial
culture to an
information culture. To understand it is to look into the
heart of the Dissociated States of
America and the
Dissociated States of Europe and the Orient.
The seeds of
dissociation have been sown throughout history, from our
earliest recorded days
until the present.
You can find evidence of it in the first terrors of
the cavemen, in the shamanic
practices of most
primitive cultures, to the present co-option of
severely dissociated people found among
the ranks of modem
military recruits. A cross section of our society
finds its way into military service,
and a
representational number of them suffer from Dissociative
Disorders. These form a fertile pool for
recruitment of
programmed personnel.
After you've met a
few of them, you realize they have one thing is
common--they are highly
suggestible. Thus
it is easy to capitalize on the trauma implanted in
their child's mind by daddy, uncle, a
neighbor or
whomever. Once dissociation shows up in the military
"entrance tests," they are sorted out
for programming.
From their ranks are created autonomic assassins,
amnestic couriers, and Mata Hari
sexpionage agents
who've given their involuntary all with no consent
form requested.
Who would do such a
thing you ask? Read on. Learn about the cryptocracy
that has been
gradually amassing
its power over the human mind since the days when
the swastika was forced
underground, and
its armbands torn from the sleeves, but its legacy was
not removed from the hearts
and minds of those
welcomed to America under Project Paperclip, when
Nazi war criminals, posing as
scientists, were
flown from the front, hidden among those who had
spilled their blood fighting fascism.
The value of
programming to the cryptocrats is understood when you
realize its usefulness in
harnessing a slave
labor force and covering up crimes. More than one
forensic psychiatrist has told me
that our criminal
justice systems are not prepared to deal with these
cases. And it's been that way for
quite some time.
The litigious actions of the False Memory "Spindrome"
Foundation have done further
damage to justice
by successfully obfuscating the realities of
Dissociative Disorders and by blaming its
cause on the
treatments of incompetent "mental health professionals."
Whether a victim of
DID, trained and conditioned and honed for
govemment use, claims they
have been raised in
a Satanic Cult, or a Secret Society, or been
abducted by aliens matters not at all. For
eons of time,
throughout the entire history of mankind (as far as we
know) war and trauma have created
this evil, which is
multi-generational, passed down the family tree
from parent to child in an unbroken
chain. The flavor
of the torture matters not--it is none the less
torture. The style of programming
11
matters not--it is
none the less programming. Usually the women are
tumed into slaves of one kind or
another; the men
are turned into killers or handlers. Regardless of the
content of their story, the
professional can
only take it at face value, support the client, use it
as a metaphor if nothing else, and try
one technique after
another until they get the results they are
seeking, reintegration and eventual
recovery.
After spending the
past five years studying programmed killers, it is
refreshing to turn once again
to Sue Ford's case.
Most of us cannot keep from wincing at her vivid
descriptions in certain parts.
Others similarly
victimized have experienced tortures so terrible
(literally unspeakable) that they might
think Sue had a
"privileged" time of it. Though, Sue was used at a very
"high level" in such ways that
required her
physical preservation. Many survivors, it would appear,
are generally too incapacitated to
write their own
story and too destitute or crippled to achieve
sufficient recovery.
Sue's story, truly
a spy-chiatrist's "nightmare come true," is like a
fascinating, multifaceted
gemstone washed up
on a white, sandy Hawaiian beach after having
battled typhoons, rip tides and the
treacherous forces
of man and nature. It is the story of a survivor who
truly has emerged as a 'Victor'
against all odds.
We must salute Sue.
She has preceded the therapeutic community's
understanding of
dissociation and
reintegration in the context of mind control. She's
been a teacher as well as a patient,
and has inspired
many of those who are leading the way toward real
healing, not just a drugging of
symptoms as is too
commonly found to be the "mental health" cure for
MPD/DID. Through her valiant
recovery from
trauma-based mind control, Sue has paved the way for
other survivors to follow.
Let's join her in
shining the light on the path for those survivors who
are ready, willing and able to
stand and be
counted. Their liberation will be ours--all of us!
To your own Free
Thinking!
W.H. Bowart
Director Freedom of Thought Foundation
12
Brice Taylor -
Thanks for the Memories
Historical
Overview: Mind Control in the Modern Context
'Mind control' is a
rather vague and nebulous term used to label
methods of extreme coercion that
result in an
individual's involuntary, robotic compliance. In order for
the reader to fully understand the
account presented
in this book, it is essential to gain some background
knowledge about the history of
mind control.
There was a Special
Report (article) that appeared in the US. News
& World Report (January 24,
1994) entitled "The
Cold War Experiments," which provides one with an
introductory and conventionally
accepted
perspective on the subject of mind control.
The article begins,
stating the widely held view that "...U.S.
government scientists, spurred on by
reports that
American prisoners of war were being brainwashed in North
Korea, were proposing an
urgent, top-secret
research program on behavior modification. Drugs,
hypnosis, electroshock, lobotomy
-- all were to be
studied as part of a vast U.S. effort to close the
mind-control gap."
At the time this
article appeared, congressional inquiries were being
held to examine new
disclosures about
government experiments that had intentionally exposed
American citizens to
radiation. The
article continues, "But the radiation experiments are
only one facet of a vast cold war
research program
that used thousands of Americans as guinea pigs." And,
"From the end of World War
II well into the
1970's, the Atomic Energy Commission, the Defense
Department, the military services,
the CIA and other
agencies used prisoners, drug addicts, mental
patients, college students, soldiers, even
bar patrons, in a
vast range of government-run experiments to test the
effects of everything from
radiation, LSD and
nerve gas to intense electric shocks and prolonged
"sensory deprivation." Note the
portrayal of this
activity as a "vast" governmental effort.
The article also
illustrates the recent congressional concern: "'It's
not just radiation we're talking
about,' says
Democratic Sen. John Glenn of Ohio, a former Marine and
astronaut who is holding
hearings on the
subject this week. 'Any place government experimenting
caused a problem we should
make every effort
to notify the people and follow up. We ought to set
up some sort of review and
compensation for
people who were really hurt'." Years later, on January
22, 1997, Sen. Glenn introduced
before Congress the
Human Research Subject Protections Act of 1997. It
was referred to the Senate
Committee on Labor
and Human Resources, chaired by Sen. Arlen Spector
(author of the Warren
Commission's
'single bullet theory'), and never made it out. With the
many bare-brained pieces of
legislation that
make it to the Senate floor, you would think that one
which attempts to safeguard human
subjects of
experimentation would be a 'no-brainer,' but apparently it
is not with this Congress.
Parallel with this
activity, President Clinton published an
Administrative Order known as
Memorandum of March
27, 1997 entitled "Strengthened Protections for
Human Subjects of Classified
Research" (see
appendix), which attempted to implement the
recommendations of the Advisory
Committee on Human
Radiation Experiments, which he established in
January 1994. To date, these
well-intended
efforts have had little or no impact.
Last year (April
15, 1998), Harlan Girard, on behalf of the
International Committee for the
Convention Against
Offensive Microwave Weapons, brought suit against
the Federal government for its
non-compliance in
carrying out President Clinton's Administrative
Order. This case is still in the process
of working its way
through the Federal courts. The U.S. News &
World Report article concludes with the
following paragraph:
13
"Another former CIA
official, Sidney Gottlieb, who directed the MKULTRA
behavior-control
program almost from
its inception, refused to discuss his work when US.
News reporter visited him last
week at his home.
He said the CIA was only trying to encourage basic
work in behavior science. But he
added that after
his retirement in 1973, he went back to school,
practiced for 19 years as a speech
pathologist and now
works with AIDS and cancer patients at a hospice.
He said he has devoted the years
since he left the
CIA 'trying to get on the side of the angels instead
of the devils'."
Gottlieb's
praiseworthy activities since 1973 speak to the seriousness
of what he had participated
in prior to that
date, under Project MKULTRA. He was one individual who
at least tried to do something
to 'save his soul,'
which is more than one can say for the host of
others who were similarly involved.
Gottlieb passed
away earlier in 1999, just in time to miss all the
'fireworks.'
The following
article, "Project Monarch: Nazi Mind Control" by Ron
Patton, provides an excellent
historical overview
on mind control in its many different aspects and
is reprinted here almost in its
entirety. The
article appeared in the trend-setting, alternative press
magazine Paranoia: The Conspiracy
Reader in the Fall
1996 issue. This magazine, one of several
'iconoclasts,' has published a number of such
informative
articles on related subjects and, to date, appears to be
the leading source for news and
information about
mind control.
Note: The actual
name of a classified project known to many as
'Monarch' is yet to be officially
confirmed,
therefore, the reader is advised to substitute the phrase
"trauma-based mind control" for the
author's usage of
the code name "MONARCH."
14
PROJECT MONARCH:
NAZI MIND CONTROL by Ron Patton
Amidst the subtle
cerebral circumvention of the gullible populace,
through a multitude of
manipulated
mediums, lies one of the most diabolical atrocities
perpetrated upon a segment of the
human race: a form
of systematic mind control which has permeated every
aspect of society for almost
fifty years.
To objectively
ascertain the following, one may need to re-examine
preconceived ideologies
relating to the
dualistic nature of mankind. Resolving the
philosophical question of whether we are
inherently good or
inherently evil is tantamount in shaping our
perception of reality; specifically, the
spiritual variable
within the equation of life.
This exposition is
substantiated by declassified U.S. Government
documents, individuals formerly
connected to the
U.S. intelligence communities, historical researchers
knowledgeable in mind control,
publications from
mental health practitioners, and interviews taken
from survivors unwittingly subjected
to a highly complex
form of trauma-based mind control known as MONARCH
programming.
A word of caution
for survivors of intensively systematic mind control
and/or some form of
ritualized abuse:
There are numerous "triggers" in this article. It is
therefore recommended not to read
it unless
appropriate support systems are in place or if you have a
thoroughly reintegrated personality.
A Brief History of
Control
The Mystery
Religions of ancient Egypt, Greece, India and Babylon
helped lay the foundation for
occultism, meaning
"hidden knowledge." One of the earliest writings
giving reference to occultism is the
Egyptian Book of
the Dead, a compilation of rituals explicitly
describing methods of torture and
intimidation (to
create trauma), the use of potions (drugs) and the
casting of spells (hypnotism),
ultimately
resulting in the total enslavement of the initiate.[1] These
have been the main ingredients for
a part of occultism
known as Satanism, throughout the ages.
During the 13th
Century, the Roman Catholic Church increased and
solidified its dominion
throughout Europe
with the infamous Inquisition. Satanism survived this
period of persecution, deeply
entrenching itself
under the veil of various esoteric groups.
In 1776, a Bavarian
Jesuit by the name of Adam Weishaupt was
commissioned by the House of
Rothschild to
centralize the power base of the Mystery Religions into
what is commonly known as the
Illuminati, meaning
"Enlightened Ones." This was an amalgamation of
powerful occultic bloodlines,
elite secret
societies and influential Masonic fraternities, with the
desire to construct the framework for a
"New World Order."
The outward goal of this Utopia was to bring forth
universal happiness to the
human race.
However, their underlying intention was to gradually
increase control over the masses,
thus becoming
masters of the planet.
The Anglo Alliance
By the 19th
century, Great Britain and Germany were recognized as the
primary geographic areas
of Illuminati
control. It then should be of little surprise to know the
first work in Behavioral Science
research was
established in England in 1882, while much of the early
medical and psychiatric techniques
involved in mind
control were pioneered at the Kaiser Wilhelm Institute
in Germany.
15
The Tavistock
Institute of Human Relations was set up in London in 1921
to study the "breaking
point" of humans.
Kurt Lewin, a German psychologist, became the
director of the Tavistock Institute in
1932, about the
same time Nazi Germany was increasing its research into
neuropsychology,
parapsychology and
multi-generational occultism. Interestingly, a
progressive exchange of scientific
ideas was taking
place between England and Germany, most notably in the
field of eugenics: the
movement devoted to
"improving" the human species through the control
of hereditary factors in
mating. The
nefariously enigmatic union between the two countries was
bonded, partly through the
Order of the Golden
Dawn, a secret society, which consisted of many
high ranking officials in the Nazi
party and British
aristocracy. Top SS Nazi officer, Heinrich Himmler,
was in charge of a scientific project
called Lebensborn,
which included selective breeding and adoption of
children, a peculiarly large
number of twins
among them.[2] The purpose of the program was to create
a super-race (Aryans) who
would have total
allegiance to the cause of the Third Reich (New
Order). Much of the preliminary
experimentation
concerning genetic engineering and behavior
modification was conducted by Dr. Josef
Mengele at
Aushwitz, where he coldly analyzed the effects of
trauma-bonding, eye-coloring and
"twinning" upon his
victims.
Besides the
insidious surgical experimentation performed at the
concentration camp, some of the
children were
subjected to massive amounts of electroshock. Sadly, many
of them did not survive the
brutality.
Concurrently, "brain-washing" was carried out on inmates at
Dachau, who were placed under
hypnosis and given
the hallucinogenic drug mescaline. During the war,
parallel behavioral research was
led by Dr. George
Estabrooks of Colgate University. His involvement
with the Army, CID, FBI and other
agencies remains
shrouded in secrecy. However, Estabrooks would
occasionally "slip" and discuss his
work involving the
creation of hypno-programmed couriers and
hypnotically-induced split
personalities.[3]
After WWII, the
U.S. Department of Defense secretly imported many of
the top German Nazi and
Italian Fascist
scientists and spies into the United States via South
America and the Vatican. The code
name for this
operation was Project PAPERCLIP.[4] One of the more
prominent finds for the U.S. was
German General
Reinhard Gehlen, Hitler's Chief of Intelligence against
Russia. Upon arriving in
Washington, DC in
1945, Gehlen met extensively with President Truman,
General William "Wild Bill"
Donovan, Director
of the Office of Strategic Services (OSS) and Allen
Dulles, who would later become the
stalwart head of
the CIA. The objective of their brainstorming sessions
was to reorganize the nominal
American
intelligence operation, transforming it into a highly
efficient covert organization. The
culmination of
their efforts produced the Central Intelligence Group in
1946, renamed the Central
Intelligence Agency
(CIA) in 1947.
Reinhard Gehlen
also had profound influence in helping to create the
National Security Council,
from which the
National Security Act of 1947 was derived. This
particular piece of legislation was
implemented to
protect an unconscionable number of illegal government
activities, including
clandestine mind
control programs.
Evolution of
Project MKULTRA
With the CIA and
National Security Council firmly established, the
first in a series of covert
brainwashing
programs was initiated by the Navy in the fall of 1947.
Project CHATTER was developed in
response to the
Soviet's "successes" through the use of "truth drugs."
This rationale, however, was
simply a cover
story if the program were to be exposed. The research
focused on the identification and
testing of such
drugs for use in interrogations and the recruitment of
agents.[5] The project was officially
terminated in 1953.
The CIA decided to
expand their efforts in the area of behavior
modification, with the advent of
Project BLUEBIRD,
approved by Director Allen Dulles in 1950. Its
objectives were to: (1) discover a
means of
conditioning personnel to prevent unauthorized extraction of
information from them by known
16
means, (2)
investigate the possibility of control of an individual by
application of special interrogation
techniques, (3)
investigate memory enhancement and (4) establish
defensive means for preventing
hostile control of
agency personnel. In August 1951, Project BLUEBIRD
was renamed Project
ARTICHOKE, which
evaluated offensive uses of interrogation techniques,
including hypnosis and drugs.
The program ceased
in 1956. Three years prior to the halt of Project
ARTICHOKE, Project MKULTRA
came into existence
on April 13, 1953 along the lines proposed by
Richard Helms, Deputy Director of
Central
Intelligence CDCI with the rationale of establishing a "special
funding mechanism of extreme
sensitivity."[6]
The hypothetical
etymology of "MK" may possibly stand for "Mind
Kontrolle." The obvious
postwar translation
of the German word, "Kontrolle" into English is
"control."[7] A host of German
doctors, procured
from the Nazi talent pool, were an invaluable asset
toward the development of
MKULTRA. The
correlation between the concentration camp experiments and
the numerous subprojects
of MKULTRA are
clearly evident. The various avenues used to control
human behavior under
MKULTRA included
radiation, electroshock, psychology, psychiatry,
sociology, anthropology,
graphology,
harassment substances and paramilitary devices and
materials (LSD being the most widely
dispensed
"material"). A special procedure, designated MKDELTA, was
established to govern the use of
MKULTRA abroad.
MKULTRA / MKDELTA materials were used for harassment,
discrediting or
disabling
purposes.[8]
Of the 149
subprojects under the umbrella of MKULTRA having been
identified, Project
MONARCH officially
began by the U.S. Army in the early 1960's (although
unofficially implemented
much earlier)
appears to be the most prominent and is still classified
as TOP SECRET for "National
Security"
reasons.[9] MONARCH may have culminated from MKSEARCH
subprojects, such as
operation
SPELLBINDER, which was set up to create "sleeper" assassins
(i.e. "Manchurian Candidates")
who could be
activated upon receiving a key word or phrase while in a
post-hypnotic trance. Operation
OFTEN, a study
which attempted to harness the power of occultic forces,
was possibly one of several
cover programs to
hide the insidious reality of Project MONARCH.
Definition and
Description
The name MONARCH is
not necessarily defined within the context of royal
nobility, but rather
refers to the
Monarch butterfly. When a person is undergoing trauma
induced by electroshock, a feeling
of light-headedness
is evidenced; as if one is floating or fluttering
like a butterfly. There is also a
symbolic
representation pertaining to the transformation or
metamorphosis of this beautiful insect:
from a caterpillar
to a cocoon (dormancy; inactivity), to a butterfly
(new creation) which will return to its
point of origin.
Such is the migratory pattern that makes this species
unique.
Occultic symbolism
may give additional insight into the true meaning.
Psyche is the word for both
"soul" and
"butterfly," coming from the belief that human souls become
butterflies while searching for a
new
reincarnation.[10]
Some ancient
mystical groups, such as the Gnostics, saw the butterfly
as a symbol of corrupt flesh.
The "Angel of
Death" (remember Mengele?) in Gnostic art works was
portrayed crushing the
butterfly.[11] A
marionette is a puppet that is attached to strings and
is controlled by the puppet master,
hence MONARCH
programming is also referred to as the "Marionette
Syndrome." "Imperial
Conditioning" is
another term used, while some mental health therapists
know it as "Conditioned
Stimulus-Response
Sequences."
Project MONARCH
could be best described as a form of trauma-structured
dissociation and
occultic
integration in order to compartmentalize the mind into
multiple personalities within a
systematic
framework. During the process, a Satanic ritual, usually
including Cabalistic mysticism, is
17
performed with the
purpose of attaching a particular demon or group of
demons to the corresponding
alter(s). Of
course, most [people] would view this as simply a means to
enhance trauma within the
victim negating
irrational belief that demonic possession actually
occurs.
Alters and Triggers
Another way of
examining this convoluted victimization of body and soul
is by looking at it as a
complex computer
program: A file (alter) is created through trauma,
repetition and reinforcement. In
order to activate
(trigger) the file, a specific access code or
password (cue or command) is required. The
victim survivor is
called a "slave" by the programmer/handler, who in
turn is perceived as "master" or
"god." About 75%
are female, since they possess a higher tolerance for
pain and tend to dissociate easier
than males.
Subjects are used mainly for covert operations,
prostitution and pornography; involvement
in the
entertainment industry is notable.
A former military
officer connected to the DIA told this writer, "In
the 'big picture' these people
[MONARCH victims]
are in all walks of life, from the bum on the street
to the white-collar guy." In
corroboration, a
retired CIA agent vaguely discussed the use of such
personnel to be used as "plants" or
"chameleons" for
the purpose of infiltrating a designated group,
gathering information and/or injecting
an ulterior agenda.
There are an
inordinate amount of alters in the victim/survivor, with
numerous back-up
programs, mirrors
and shadows. A division of light-side (good) and
dark-side (bad) alters are
interwoven in the
mind and rotate on an axis. One of the main internal
structures, (of which there are
many) within the
system is shaped like a double-helix, consisting of
seven levels. Each system has an
internal programmer
who oversees the "gatekeepers" (demons?) who grant
or deny entry into the
different rooms. A
few of the internal images predominately seen by
victims/survivors are trees, the
Cabalistic "Tree of
Life," with adjoining root systems, infinity loops,
ancient symbols and letters, spider
webs, mirrors or
glass shattering, masks, castles, mazes,
demons/monsters/aliens, sea shells, butterflies,
snakes, ribbons,
bows, flowers, hour glasses, clocks, robots,
chain-of-command diagrams and/or
schematics of
computer circuitry boards.
Bloodlines and
Twinning
A majority of the
victims/survivors come from multi-generational
Satanic families (bloodlines)
and are ostensibly
programmed "to fulfill their destiny as the chosen
ones or chosen generations" (a term
coined by Mengele
at Auschwitz). Some are adopted out to families of
similar origin. Others used in this
neurological
nightmare are deemed as the "expendable ones"
(non-bloodliners), usually coming from
orphanages,
foster-care homes, or incestuous families with a long
history of pedophilia. There also
appears to be a
pattern of family members affiliated with government or
military intelligence agencies.
Many of the abused
come from families who use Catholicism, Mormonism,
or charismatic
Christianity as a
"front" for their abominable activities (though
members of other religious groups are
also involved.)
Victims/survivors generally respond more readily to a
rigid religious (dogmatic,
legalistic)
hierarchical structure because it parallels their base
programming. Authority usually goes
unchallenged, as
their will has been usurped through subjective and
command-oriented conditioning.
Physical
identification characteristics on victims/survivors often
include multiple electrical prod
scars and/or
resultant moles on their skin. A few may have had various
parts of their bodies mutilated
by knives, branding
irons, or needles. Butterfly or occult tattoos are
also common. Generally,
bloodliners are
less likely to have the subsequent markings, as their
skin is to "remain pure and
unblemished."
18
The ultimate
purpose of the sophisticated manipulation of these
individuals may sound
unrealistic,
depending upon our interpretive understanding of the
physical and spiritual realms. The
deepest and darkest
alters within bloodliners are purported to be
dormant until the "AntiChrist" is
revealed. These
"New World Order" alters supposedly contain call-back
orders and instructions to train
and/or initiate a
large influx of people (possibly clones or "soulless
ones"). thereby stimulating social
control programs
into the new millennium.
Non-biological
"twinning" is yet another bizarre feature observed
within MONARCH
programming. For
instance, two young non-related children would be
ceremoniously initiated in a
magical
"soul-bonding" ritual so they might be "inseparably paired for
eternity" (possibly another
Mengele
connection?). They essentially share two halves of the
programmed information, making them
interdependent upon
one another. Paranormal phenomenon such as astral
projection, telepathy, ESP,
etc. appear to be
more pronounced between those who have undergone this
process.
Levels of MONARCH
Programming[12]
ALPHA. Regarded as
"general" or regular programming within the base
control personality;
characterized by
extremely pronounced memory retention, along with
substantially increased physical
strength and visual
acuity. Alpha programming is accomplished through
deliberately subdividing the
victim's
personality which, in essence, causes a left brain - right
brain division; allowing for a
programmed union of
L and R through neuron pathway stimulation.
BETA. Referred to
as "sexual" programming. This programming eliminates
all learned moral
convictions and
stimulates the primitive sexual instincts, devoid of
inhibitions. "Cat" alters may come
out at this level.
DELTA. This is
known as "killer" programming, originally developed for
training special agents or elite
soldiers (i.e.
Delta Force, First Earth Battalion, Mossad, etc.) in
covert operations. Optimal adrenal
output and
controlled aggression is evident. Subjects are devoid of
fear; very systematic in carrying out
their assignment.
Self-destruct or suicide instructions are layered in
at this level.
THETA. Considered
to be "psychic" programming. Bloodliners (those
coming from multigenerational
Satanic families)
were determined to exhibit a greater propensity for
having telepathic abilities than did
non-bloodliners.
Due to its evident limitations, however, various forms
of electronic mind control
systems were
developed and introduced, namely, biomedical human
telemetry devices (brain implants),
directed-energy
lasers using microwaves and/or electromagnetics. It is
reported these are used in
conjunction with
highly-advanced computers and sophisticated satellite
tracking systems.
OMEGA. A
"self-destruct" form of programming, also known as "Code
Green." The corresponding
behaviors include
suicidal tendencies and/or self-mutilation. This
program is generally activated when
the victim/survivor
begins therapy or interrogation and too much memory
is being recovered.
GAMMA. Another form
of system protection is through "deception"
programming, which elicits
misinformation and
misdirection. This level is intertwined with
demonology and tends to regenerate
itself at a later
time if inappropriately deactivated.
Methods and
Components
19
The initial process
begins with creating dissociation within the
subject, usually occurring from
the time of birth
to about six years. This is primarily achieved
through the use of electroshock (ECT) and
is at times
performed even when the child is in the mother's womb. Due
to the severe trauma induced
through ECT, sexual
abuse and other methods, the mind splits off into
alternate personalities from the
core. Formerly
referred to as Multiple Personality Disorder, it is
presently recognized as Dissociative
Identity Disorder
and is the basis for MONARCH programming. Further
conditioning of the victim's
mind is enhanced
through hypnotism, double-bind coercion, pleasure-pain
reversals, food, water, sleep
and sensory
deprivation, along with various drugs which alter certain
cerebral functions.
The next stage is
to embed and compress detailed commands or messages
within the specified
alter. This is
achieved through the use of hi-tech headsets, in
conjunction with computer-driven
generators which
emit inaudible sound waves or harmonics that affect
the RNA covering of neuron
pathways to the
subconscious and unconscious mind. "Virtual Reality"
optical devices are sometimes
used simultaneously
with the harmonic generators projecting pulsating
colored lights, subliminals and
split-screen
visuals. High voltage electroshock is then used for memory
dissolution.
Programming is
updated periodically and reinforced through visual,
auditory and written
mediums. Some of
the first programming themes included the Wizard of Oz
and Alice and Wonderland,
both heavily
saturated with occultic symbolism. Many of the recent
Disney movies and cartoons are
used in a two-fold
manner: desensitizing the majority of the
population, using subliminals and neurolinguistic
programming, and
deliberately constructing specific triggers and keys
for base programming of
highly-impressionable
MONARCH children.
[paragraphs omitted
in original]
Music plays an
instrumental role in programming, through combinations
of variable tones,
rhythms and words.
Frightmeister Stephen King's numerous novels and
subsequent movies, are
purported by
credible sources to be used for such villainous purposes.
One of his latest books, Insomnia,
features a picture
of King with the trigger phrase "WE NEVER SLEEP,"
(indicative of someone with
MPD/ DID) below an
all-seeing eye.
[paragraphs omitted
in original]
[Recent informative
mind control related movies: Total Recall;
Brainstorm; Long Kiss Goodnight;
Johnny Mnemonic;
Conspiracy Theory; Mindfield; 12 Monkeys; Barbwire;
Fortress; Trancers III;
Jacob's Ladder;
Videodrome; Circuitry Man; Lawnmower Man; Color of
Night; Blade; Enemy of the
State; Adventures
of Baron Von Munchhausen; and Ninth Configuration.
Older movies include: Altered
States; Slepford
Wives; and the classic Manchurian Candidate.]
Programmers and
Places
It's difficult to
figure out who the original programmer of this
satanic project was, due to the
substantial amount
of disinformation and cross-contamination propagated
by the "powers that be." The
two that went by
the color-coded name of Dr. Green are a Jewish doctor
named Dr. Gruenbaum, who
supposedly
collaborated with the Nazis during WWII, and Dr. Josef
Mengele, whose trademark of coldblooded
and calculating
brutality has not only scarred the souls of survivors
from Aushwitz, but also a
countless number of
victims throughout the world. Mengele's direct
involvement at the infamous
Aushwitz
concentration camp was suspiciously downplayed during the
Nuremberg Trials, and
consequently no
intensified effort by the U.S. and its allies was
directed toward his capture.[13]
As a means to
confuse serious investigators as to his whereabouts, U.S.
officials would report
Mengele being a
non-threatening recluse in Paraguay or Brazil, or that
he was simply dead (the "Angel of
20
Death" miraculously
must have come back to life at least five different
times). His unprecedented
research, at the
expense of thousands of lives, undoubtedly was a
significant bonus to U.S. interests.
Besides using the
pseudonym of Dr. Green, survivors knew him as
Vaterchen (daddy), Schoner Josef
(beautiful Joseph),
David and Fairchild. A gracefully handsome man of
slight stature, Mengele would
disarm people with
his gentle demeanor, while at other times, he would
explode into violent rages.[14]
Other
characteristics remembered by survivors were the cadence of his
shiny black boots as he
paced back and
forth and his "I-love-you/I-love-you-not" daisy game.
When he pulled off the last daisy
petal, he would
maliciously torture and kill a small child in front of
the other child he was programming.
Distraught
survivors also recalled being thrown naked into cages with
monkeys, who were trained to
viciously abuse
them. Evidently, Mengele enjoyed reducing people to the
level of animals. He also
would purposely
restrain his victims from crying, screaming, or showing
any excessive emotion.
Dr. D. Ewen
Cameron, also known as Dr. White, was the former head of
the Canadian, American
and World
Psychiatric Associations. Because of Cameron's extensive
experience and credentials, the
CIA's Allen Dulles
funneled millions of dollars through front
organizations like the Society for the
Investigation of
Human Ecology, which Cameron ruthlessly presided over.
Experimentations were
conducted at
several locations in Montreal, mostly at McGill
University, St. Mary's Hospital and Allan
Memorial Institute.
Besides the
conventional methods of psychiatric tyranny, such as
electroshock, drug injections
and lobotomies,
Cameron conceived the technique of "psychic driving,"
wherein unsuspecting patients
were kept in a
drug-induced coma for several weeks and administered a
regimen of electroshocks, while
electronic helmets
were strapped to their heads and repetitive auditory
messages were transmitted at
variable
speeds.[15] Many of those exploited were abused children who
had been run through the
Roman Catholic
orphanage system.
Not surprisingly,
Dr. Cameron has been conveniently left out of most
psychiatric journals. This
may have been, in
fact, largely due to Project MKULTRA being publicly
exposed in 1970, through
lawsuits filed by
Canadian survivors and their families. The CIA and
Canadian government settled out of
court so as not to
be required to officially admit to any wrongdoing.
A former U.S. Army
Lt. Col. in the DIA's Psychological Warfare
Division, Michael Aquino, is the
latest in a line of
alleged government-sponsored sadists. Aquino, an
eccentric genius, founded the
Temple of Set, an
offshoot of Anton LaVey's Church of Satan. His
obsession with Nazi pagan rituals and
his hypnotic
manipulation of people made him an ideal candidate for the
position of "Master
Programmer." Aquino
was connected with the Presidio Army Base daycare
scandal, in which he was
accused of child
molestation. Much to the dismay of the young victims'
parents, all charges were
dismissed.
[sentence omitted]
Heinrich Mueller
was another important programmer who went under the
code names "Dr. Blue"
or "Gog." He
apparently has two sons who have carried on the trade. The
original "Dr. Black" was
apparently Leo
Wheeler, the nephew of deceased General Earle G.
Wheeler, who was the commander of
the Joint Chiefs of
Staff during the Vietnam War. Wheeler's protege, E.
Hummel, is active in the
Northwest, along
with W. Bowers (from the Rothschild-bloodline).
Other alleged
master mind manipulators, past and present, are: Dr.
Sydney Gottlieb, Lt. Col. John
Alexander, Richard
Dabney Anderson (USN), Dr. James Monroe, Dr. John
Lilly, Lt. Comdr. Thomas
Narut, Dr. William
Jennings Bryan, Dr. Bernard L. Diamond, Dr. Martin
Orne, Dr. Louis J. West, Dr.
Robert J. Lifton,
Dr. Harris Isbel and Col. Wilson Green.
21
In order to keep
MKULTRA from being easily detected, the CIA segmented
its subprojects into
specialized fields
of research and development at universities,
prisons, private laboratories and hospitals.
Of course, they
were rewarded generously with government grants and
miscellaneous funding. The
names and locations
of some of the major institutions involved in
MONARCH programming
experimentation
were/are: Cornell, Duke, Princeton, UCLA, University of
Rochester, MIT, Georgetown
University
Hospital, Maimonides Medical Center, St Elizabeth's Hospital
(Washington, D.C.), Bell
Laboratories,
Stanford Research Institute, Westinghouse Friendship
Laboratories, General Electric,
ARCO and Manking
Research Unlimited.
The "final product"
was/is usually created on military installations
and bases, where maximum
security is
required. Referred to as (re) programming centers or
near-death trauma centers, the most
heavily identified
are: China Lake Naval Weapons Center, The Presidio,
Ft. Dietrick, Ft. Campbell, Ft.
Lewis, Ft. Hood,
Redstone Arsenal, Offutt AFB, Patrick AFB, McClellan
AFB, MacGill AFB, Kirkland
AFB, Nellis AFB,
Homestead AFB, Grissom AFB, Maxwell AFB and Tinker
AFB. Other places recognized
as major
programming sites are Langley Research Center, Los Alamos
National Laboratories, Tavistock
Institute and areas
in or by Mt. Shasta, CA, Lampe, MO and Las Vegas,
NV.
Notable Names
One of the first
documented cases of a MONARCH secret agent, was that
of the voluptuous 1940's
model, Candy Jones.
The book, The Control of Candy Jones, (Playboy
Press) portrays her 12 years of
intrigue and
suspense as a spy for the CIA. Jones, whose birthname is
Jessica Wilcox, apparently fit the
physiological
profile as to be one of the initial experiments or human
guinea pigs under the government's
"scientific"
project, MKULTRA.
The most publicized
case of MONARCH monomania has surfaced through the
book TRANCE Formation
of America: The
True Life Story of a CIA Slave by Cathy O'Brien. On the
back cover it emphatically
states, "Cathy
O'Brien is the only vocal and recovered survivor of the
Central Intelligence Agency's Mk-
Ultra Project
Monarch mind control operation." This documented
autobiography contains compelling
accounts of
O'Brien's years of unrelenting incest and eventual
introduction into Project MONARCH by
her perverted
father. Along with co-author Mark Phillips, her rescuer
and deprogrammer, Cathy covers
an almost
unbelievable array of conspiratorial crime: forced
prostitution (white slavery) with those in the
upper echelons of
world politics, covert assignments as a "drug mule"
and courier, and the countrywestern
music industry's
relationship with illegal CIA activities.
Paul Bonaci, a
courageous survivor who endured almost two decades of
degradation under Project
MONARCH, has
disclosed strong corroborating evidence of widescale
crimes and corruption from the
municipal/state
level all the way up to the White House.[17] He has
testified about sexually-abused
males selected from
Boy's Town in Nebraska and taken to nearby Offutt
AFB, where he says they were
subjected to
intense MONARCH programming, directed mainly by Commander
Bill Plemmons and
former Lt. Col.
Michael Aquino.[18] After thoroughly tormenting the
young boys into mindless oblivion,
they were used
(along with girls) for pornography and prostitution with
several of the nation's political
and economic
power-brokers. Bonaci recalled being transported from the
Air Force base via cargo
planes to
McClelland AFB in California. Along with other unfortunate
adolescents and teenagers, he was
driven to the elite
retreat, Bohemian Grove. The perpetrators took full
advantage of these innocent
victims, committing
unthinkable perversions in order to satisfy their
deviant lusts. Some victims were
apparently
murdered, further traumatizing already terrified and broken
children. [The following
information is
provided by Brice Taylor, at the time of this writing in
1999: Uri Dowbenko wrote an
article for Media
Bypass magazine (June 1999) where he reports that
justice was finally served when a
U.S. District Court
recently awarded a $1 million settlement to
Bonacci, after years of legal aid from his
attorney John
DeCamp]
22
An insatiable
actress of marginal talent (now deceased), a
morally-corrupt TV evangelist, a heralded
former Green Beret
officer and a popular country-western singer are a
few others likely having
succumbed to
MONARCH madness. Lee Harvey Oswald, Sirhan-Sirhan, Charlie
Manson, John
Hinckley, Jr., Mark
Chapman, David Koresh, Tim McVeigh and John Salvi
are some notable names of
infamy, strongly
suspected of being pawns who were spawned by MKULTRA.
Deprogrammers and
Exposers
Dr. Corydon
Hammond, a Psychologist from the University of Utah,
delivered a stunning lecture
entitled "Hypnosis
in MPD: Ritual Abuse" at the Fourth Annual Eastern
Regional Conference on Abuse
and Multiple
Personality, June 25, 1992 in Alexandria, Virginia. He
essentially confirmed the suspicions
of the attentive
crowd of mental health professionals, wherein a
certain percentage of their clients had
undergone mind
control programming in an intensively systematic manner.
Hammond alluded to the
Nazi connection,
military and CIA mind control research, Greek letter
and color programming and
specifically
mentioned the "Monarch Project" in relation to a form of
[operant] conditioning.
Shortly after his
groundbreaking speech, he received death threats. Not
wanting to jeopardize the
safety of his
family, Dr. Hammond stopped disseminating any follow-up
information, until recently.
[paragraph omitted
in original]
New Orleans
therapist Valerie Wolf introduced two of her patients
before the President's
Committee on Human
Radiation Experiments on March 15, 1995 in
Washington, DC. The astonishing
testimony made by
these two brave women included accounts of German
doctors, torture, drugs,
electroshock,
hypnosis and rape, besides being exposed to an
undetermined amount of radiation. Both
Wolf and her
patients stated they recovered the memories of this abuse,
without regression or hypnosis
techniques.[19]
Wolf presently devotes much of her time to counseling
such survivors. A former labor
attorney for
Atlantic Richfield Co., David E. Rosenbaum, conducted a
nine-year investigation (1983-
1992) concerning
allegations of physical torture and coercive
conditioning of numerous employees at an
ARCO plant in
Monaca, PA.[20] His clients, Jerry L. Dotey and Ann
White, were victims of apparent
radiation exposure;
but as Mr. Rosenbaum probed deeper in the
subsequent interview sessions, a
"Pandora's Box" was
unveiled. His most astonishing conclusion was that
Jerry Dotey and Ann White
were likely the
offspring of Adolf Hitler, based in part on the uncanny
resemblance from photos (facial
features, bone
structure and size were taken into consideration).
Rosenbaum also states, "They both
exhibit feelings
and experiences that indicate they are twins." Dotey
and White were allegedly subjected
to torture of many
kinds while under drug-induced hypnosis, with each
one undergoing at least three
training techniques
by plant physicians.
Each victim was
trained to enter into a hypnotic state upon the
occurrence of specific stimuli,
usually involving a
"cue" word or phrase and trained to "remember to
forget" what transpired in the
hypnotic state.
They were repeatedly subjected to identical
stimulus-response sequences to produce
nearly automatic
reactions to the particular status. MKULTRA veterans
Dr. Bernard Diamond, Dr.
Martin Orne and Dr.
Josef Mengele regularly visited the ARCO plant,
according to Rosenbaum. The
special
conditioning of Dotey and White was intended for the artificial
creation of dual German
personalities.
Rosenbaum, who is Jewish, has maintained a deep
friendship with the two, despite the
seemingly
precarious circumstances.
Other renowned
therapists involved in deprogramming are Cynthia Byrtus,
Pamela Monday,
Steve Ogilvie,
Bennett Braun, Jerry Mungadze and Colin Ross. Some
Christian counselors have been
able to eliminate
parts of the programming with limited success.
Journalists who have recently
expounded on the
subject matter in exemplary fashion are Walter Bowart:
Operation Mind Control, Jon
Rappoport: US.
Government Mind-Control Experiments on Children, and
Alex Constantine: Psychic
23
Dictatorship in the
USA [and Virtual Government, plus
author/researchers Alan Scheflin & Edward
Opton, Jr.: The
Mind Manipulators, Harvey Weinstein, M.D.: Psychiatry
and the CIA: Victims of Mind
Control, and Jim
Keith: Mind Control, World Control and his latest book
Mass Control: Engineering
Human
Consciousness.]
Conclusion
The most
incriminating statement to date made by a government official
as to the possible
existence of
Project MONARCH was extracted by Anton Chaitkin, a writer
for the publication, The New
Federalist. When
former CIA Director William Colby was asked directly,
"What about monarch?" he
replied angrily and
ambiguously, "We stopped that between the late
1960's and the early 1970's." Suffice
to say that
society, in its apparent state of cognitive dissonance, is
generally in denial of the
overwhelming
evidence of this multifarious conspiracy. Numerous
victims/survivors of Project
MONARCH are in
desperate need of help. However, the great majority of
people are too preoccupied
with themselves to
show any genuine compassion toward these severely
wounded individuals. Apathy
has taken over the
minds of the masses, who choose to exist within the
comforts of this world. Reality
has thus become
obscured by relativism and selfishness.
Although there has
been some progress in deprogramming and
reintegrating therapies, a much
greater problem
needs to be rectified. The Holy Bible addresses this
problem as the fragmentation of the
soul (Ezekiel
13:20). A spiritual restoration is what is truly needed
(Psalm 23:3) ... [sentence omitted]
[paragraph omitted
in original]
Statistically, the
road to recovery for these survivors of unimaginable
depravity is a long and
tedious one, but
God is the ultimate healer and only within his time,
through His strength and by His
grace, can the
captives be set free (Isaiah 61:1).
Endnotes
1. David L.
Carrico, The Egyptian-Masonic-Satanic Connection, 1992.
2. Walter H.
Bowart, Operation Mind Control, Flatland Editions, 1994,
p. 216.
3. Martin Cannon,
"Mind Control and the American Government,"
Prevailing Winds Research, 1994, p.
19.
4. Linda Hunt,
Secret Agenda, St. Martin's Press, 1991.
5. Final Report of
the Select Committee to Study Governmental
Operations, U.S. Senate, April 1976, p.
387.
6. Ibid, p. 390.
7. John Marks, The
Search For The Manchurian Candidate, Times Books,
1979, pp. 60-61.
8. Final Report of
the Select Committee to Study Governmental
Operations, U.S. Senate, April 1976, p.
391.
9. Mark Phillips
and Cathy O'Brien, "Project Monarch," 1993.
10. Barbara G.
Walker, The Woman's Dictionary of Symbols and Sacred
Objects, Harper Collins, 1988.
11. Marshall
Cavendish, Man, Myth and Magic, 1995.
12. Dr. Corydon
Hammond, "The Greenbaum Speech," 1992; Mark Phillips
and Cathy O'Brien, Project
Monarch Programming
Definitions, 1993.
13. Gerald L.
Posner, Mengele: The Complete Story, McGraw-Hill, 1986.
14. Lucette Matalon
Lagnado, Dr. Josef Mengele and the Untold Story of
the Twins of Auschwitz,
Morrow, 1991.
15. Gordon Thomas,
Journey Into Madness: The Story of Secret CIA Mind
Control and Medical Abuse,
Bantam Books, 1989.
16. [omitted]
24
17. John DeCamp,
The Franklin Cover-Up, Child Abuse, Satanism and
Murder In Nebraska, AWT
Inc., 1992.
18. Anton Chaitkin,
"Franklin Witnesses Implicate FBI and U.S. Elites
in Torture and Murder of
Children," The New
Federalist, 1993.
19. Jon Rappoport,
"CIA Experiments with Mind Control on Children,"
Perceptions Magazine,
September/October
1995, p. 56.
20. David E.
Rosenbaum, Esq., First Draft: Overview of Investigation of
the Group, 1983-1993.
25
Paranoia: The
Conspiracy Reader
Fall 1996, Vol. 4,
No. 3, Issue 14.
Brice Taylor -
Thanks for the Memories
Preview by Pamela
J. Monday, Ph.D:
MANUFACTURING THE
MIND CONTROLLED SLAVE
"If the child has
survived the initial trials, and if they also prove
intelligent but malleable, then if the
programming goes
right, a very, very small infant that has been
conditioned from day one is a powerful
weapon, because if
you get a mind that early, as anyone knows, you can,
9 times out of 10, I would say,
determine the
general behaviors of that child and the adult that they
will become."
-- Gloria"-- A
former patient, and mind control subject
My first experience
with a patient who had been involved in mind
control experimentation began
when "Gloria"
initially called me, looking for a therapist who accepted
Medicare insurance. She said she
had been sexually
abused as a child and had been in therapy
periodically for a number of years. I was
not a Medicare
provider, but agreed to see her temporarily while she
looked for someone else. On the
day of our first
appointment, I walked into the waiting room to greet
her and asked for "Gloria."
A woman looked up
from a corner, and slowly, shyly, with head lowered
and eyes looking up,
shuffled toward me.
In a child-like voice, she held both of hands
together tightly, hunched her shoulders
and said, with a
sweet smile, "Gloria asked me to come; I'm Sally." She
then twirled on her toes and
pointed to a plant
on the table, saying again in a child-like voice,
"That sure is pretty!" Puzzled, I smiled
and asked her to
follow me to my office. During the course of that one
hour, 4 different personalities,
with different ages
and genders, presented themselves to me. We would
be talking about some topic,
and suddenly, a
switch would occur, and someone else's voice,
mannerisms, and way of sitting and
speaking would
present. It was as though 4 different people were in my
room, although all were housed
in the same body!
Although I had heard of Multiple Personality
Disorder, or MPD, before, I had never
seen it, and had
been told in graduate school that it was very rare. I
remember thinking after Gloria left,
that if she were
faking it (as patients are often accused of doing by
clinicians who don't understand) she
would have to have
the mimicking abilities of a Billy Crystal, and the
acting abilities of a Meryl Streep, to
consistently stay
in character for each of these personalities! For,
before we were through, I had met 27
'inside people'
(also referred to as alters) within Gloria, and learned
about the names and roles of literally
hundreds more!
Since that
introduction to MPD (now known as DID, or Dissociative
Identity Disorder), I have
worked with dozens
of patients with that diagnosis, and have consulted
with other clinicians and their
patients so often,
I have lost count. These patients have taught me so
very much about the human mind,
and have challenged
me to learn about topics I have never thought to
explore. In my efforts to convince
myself, "surely
what these people are saying cannot be true," I have
researched and studied both
scientific and
popular literature in a variety of fields, and have time
and again, come to the conclusion
that what they are
reporting could, indeed, be true. The historical
background, technology,
methodology,
motivation, funding, and opportunity are all in place. My
task now is to help others
understand and
believe.
I'd like to define
some terms that you will hear when learning about
people with "multiple
personalities."
Dissociation is a key term that refers to the ability
of the mind to "cut off" a part of itself
from conscious
awareness. An everyday example of this ability, which we
all have in varying degrees, is
the experience of
driving down the freeway and missing the exit you
take everyday because you are
thinking about
something else. You "come to" an exit or two later and
realize you have missed your exit,
26
even noticing that
you "saw" the exit sign but it didn't "register"
within you to take it! Part of your
mind was
dissociated, or separated from, the real world around you
while you focused on internal
thoughts. Another
example is reading every word on a page in a book,
then realizing you had not
comprehended a
single word, because you were thinking of something
else. All of us have had these
experiences.
This ability of the
mind to detach from itself is a brilliant coping
mechanism that the mind uses in
situations of
extreme threat as a way to protect itself from the full
awareness of a traumatic situation.
You may recall
reading about Vietnam veterans, who had amnesia for
their war experiences, but would
have difficulty
coping with life. They would feel detached or estranged
from others; they would have
difficulty feeling
any kind of feelings, except for outbursts of anger;
they would have difficulty
concentrating,
would feel anxious and on edge without knowing why, and
would have an exaggerated
startle response
(over-responsive to stimuli). These are all
characteristics of the diagnosis "Post
Traumatic Stress
Disorder" or PTSD. In addition, these veterans would
have sudden memories of the
horrors of war.
These memories would be "triggered" by something that
reminded their unconscious
mind of the war
experience (for example, the sound of a car backfiring,
reminding them of gunfire). In
these sudden
memories, they felt as if they were actually re-living the
experience, smelling, tasting,
feeling, hearing
and seeing in vivid detail everything they went
through during an actual battle. These
memories, complete
with all the sensory memories, are called
flashbacks. During those flashbacks, the
veteran would be
out of touch with the reality around them; they would
no longer know it was 1985 and
they were in
America; they would think it was 1968, and they were in
the jungle, reliving a particular
battle. They were
totally dissociated from reality, and were reliving a
past reality that was now only in
their minds. Later,
in processing these experiences, the soldiers would
report that during the actual
battle, they would
feel very detached, even numb, from what was
happening, even though they may have
been wounded
themselves. At times, they reported feeling as though they
were standing outside of
themselves,
observing themselves going through the trauma of the
battle, but not feeling anything. They
were dissociated
from their reality. But their brain was recording all
of the experience, exactly as it
occurred, and those
"mind and body" memories were being re-experienced
during a flashback.
When someone is
exposed to a "psychologically distressing event that is
outside the range of usual
human experience
... is usually experienced with intense fear, terror,
and helplessness," (DSM III) then
dissociation
usually occurs as a way for the mind to process the event
without overwhelming the person.
Parts of the
experience (either knowledge of what happened; the
emotional feelings associated with the
event; the sensory
experiences of the event, or the behaviors expressed
during the event) become
separated from
one's conscious awareness. The more frequent the trauma,
the more dissociation occurs.
This phenomenon is
why children who have been severely sexually abused
and tortured, are amnesic for
those events. In a
landmark university study by Linda Williams hundreds
of children brought into a
hospital emergency
room who received medical confirmation of sexual
abuse, were contacted at intervals
throughout a
20-year period. Only one-third of these children, when
reaching adulthood, retained
conscious memories
of the sexual abuse -- all others had repressed, or
dissociated, those awful
memories. Such is
the power of the mind to block out painful
experiences.
During times of
torture and extreme physical and emotional pain, the
mind is in an altered state,
as it dissociates
itself from reality. But there are other ways to
alter the mindstate, for example, by
sensory
deprivation, or meditation, whereby one focuses internally,
with sensory stimulation from the
outside minimized
or eliminated. You may recall in the 1980's that
"float tanks" were popular. In a float
tank you are
floating on very heavily salted water; you are enclosed in
a totally darkened metal tank, and
you float for an
hour without any sensory stimulation. Many people felt
claustrophobic, and couldn't
take it. But if you
could stand it, you would eventually report having
an euphoric experience. If you had
been hooked up to a
brain wave machine (EEG), your brain would no
longer be producing beta waves
(the brain state
associated with usual waking activity). Instead you
would be in a theta state, the state
associated with
deep relaxation, as when you are just about ready to
fall asleep (the twilight state). In
27
this state, the
brain produces lots of endorphins, the body's natural
"feel good" chemicals that give you
a profound sense of
well-being. It is important to note that this
twilight state is associated with the
ability to rapidly
absorb and learn information. Without the
"filtering" mechanism of the conscious
waking mind,
information seen or heard "pours" into the subconscious
mind. Biofeedback expert
Thomas Budzynski of
the University of Colorado Medical Center reports,
"We take advantage of the fact
that the twilight
state, between waking and sleep, has these properties
of uncritical acceptance of verbal
material, or almost
any material it can process; it is in such
"altered" states of consciousness that a lot of
work gets done very
quickly." (For much more information about brain
research and technology
associated with
producing altered states, read the fascinating book
Mega Brain, by Michael Hutchison.)
Other methods used
to alter brainwave states include, but are not
limited to, rapidly flashing lights,
drugs, phased sound
waves, negative ions (electromagnetic energy
fields), electroshock, alterations in
gravity in the
cerebellum (spinning), microwave emitters, and lasers.
It is vitally
important to understand about dissociation, because in
learning about how someone's
mind can actually
be controlled by someone else, you must understand
how it is possible to program the
human mind as you
would a computer. "Programming" is a fairly recent
term in the history of mind
control (and is of
course associated with computer technology). Perhaps
you'd recognize it better as
"brainwashing." In
the POW camps, captors would refer to "freezing," a
term used to destroy the
person's identity.
Using food and sleep deprivation, isolation,
torture, chronic assault on a person's
values, and
instilling total dependence on the captor's for survival, a
person's whole sense of self would
be destroyed. They
would be totally helpless, broken, with no will of
their own left. They would then be
ready for the
"brainwashing," or "refreezing" whereby a new value
system and a new identity would be
put in through
reward and punishment, conditioning or "programming"
that person to believe or do only
what the captors
wanted them to believe or do. (For more information on
brainwashing, including USA
and Canadian
government experimentation, read: Brain Control by Eliot
Vallenstein; Deep Self by John
C. Lilly; Inside
the Black Room by Jack Vernon; In Search of the
Manchurian Candidate by John Marks;
Journey Into
Madness by Gordon Thomas; I Swear by Apollo -- author
unknown -- published by
Canadian publisher.)
Just as it is
possible to break down a person in order to create
someone you can control (by
getting them to do
anything you want them to do), so it is possible to
program a part of a person's mind
(a dissociated part
that is split off, by trauma or other means, from
connection with reality). You can
"teach" that part
of the mind to do what you want it to do without the
part of the mind that is conscious
and aware knowing
what's going on. Hence, people with multiple
personalities report that they "lose
time," whereby they
don't remember where they have been or what they
have been doing. Here is how a
patient, repeatedly
sadistically sexually abused as a child, explains
it:
"Dissociation is a
way of escaping the intolerable. I'm sure it
happened first during the trauma
itself, and was a
sanity-saving way of dealing with overwhelming
physical pain as well as the psychological
pain of betrayal.
For me it took the form of physical numbness and
cold, and to this day, when I dissociate,
I most often go
numb. First my hands and feet go; I can't feel them,
and if my eyes are closed, I have no
sense of where they
are in space. Then the numbness in my face starts.
I can't feel my lips or cheeks.
When I dissociate
badly, the whole body goes and I feel and move like a
block of wood... Worse than the
physical
dissociation is what happens mentally while the physical
numbness is in place. I guess the only
thing I can say in
comparison is that it's the mental equivalent of
white noise, or radio static, that can leave
me blank-faced and
staring into space. The thoughts that are there whip
through at the speed of light with
no coherence,
organization or form. I get very confused. It can range
from being a little vague and spacey
to full white out
where I don't see or hear much. This is really
dangerous if I am driving. There have been
some episodes where
I don't remember getting someplace. I also
sometimes just "clock out" and lose time.
When I come back to
myself I may not be immediately conscious that I've
lost hours." – Penny
During that
"dissociated" time, when she "clocks out," what is going
on? Another part of the mind
has taken over; in
Penny's case, another personality is "in charge of"
the body. This personality (or alter)
interacts with
others and carries out certain tasks, but when Penny
"comes to" she has no knowledge of
28
this other part of
the self. As her therapist, I have talked to this
other "person" inside (the person is
really only a part
of her mind) and I know the personality
characteristics of this person. I know that this
part of Penny
responds to the name "Diane," she is outspoken and can
get angry if challenged (as
opposed to Penny,
who is meek and allows others to tell her what to
do). Diane also has a peculiar way
of tilting her
head, almost in a flirty, cocky manner, something I have
never seen Penny do, as she is
much more rigid and
controlled, both in posture and feelings.
How do these
dissociated parts get created? And how did "Diane" come to
be? And why? To
answer these
questions, I will let a programmer herself tell you. This
person was used from infancy in
the United States
Government mind control experiments, and her job as a
youth and adult was to "split
off" parts of
others' minds in order to program those parts to do what
the experimenters wanted them to
do. By programming,
I mean that the human, in a dissociated or altered
mind state, has been
systematically and
deliberately taught lessons, attitudes, beliefs,
behaviors and responses to specific cues
("triggers") so as
to respond on command in ways that benefit the
person/groups doing the
programming. Just
as Ivan Pavlov's dogs were taught to salivate to the
sound of a bell, in anticipation of
the meat that was
delivered soon after, so human beings can be taught
to respond in infinite ways to cues
in their
environment that "trigger" responses. Assume that first, the
child has been exposed to torture
and hideous
psychological and physical abuse to the extent that the
child has learned to dissociate into
altered states of
mind. (Remember as well that current electronic
technology -- as mentioned in Mega
Brain -- makes
torturing children obsolete, in that trauma is no longer
necessary to access altered brain
states -- thus,
programming people is much "cleaner" and easier to do.)
Here's how they do the
programming:
Techniques on
'Creating' New Children
"Daub fingertip
size glob of vaseline or K-Y jelly on pressure points
-- wrists, inner elbows, behind
knees, under ears.
Take ends of 2 wires (black and red are easiest,
negative/positive easier identified)
with metal
attachments (round, copper, holes in center) and tape with
surgical tape on top of vaseline.
Calibration - watch
for muscular reactions, eye glazing, sweating,
involuntary loss of bladder control,
bowel control. Want
to give enough of a current w/o being too much.
Want child to remain alert.
Words, codes given.
Assignments given. 'Yes, one finger; No, raise two;
Confused -- raise right hand.'
Clarify
instructions. If still confusion, time to stop, take a break.
Do not allow any contact between
patient and others
until cycle is completed. Do not, under any
circumstances, offer juices, snacks, etc.
which could be
construed as a 'reward' until the cycle is completed.
Check carotid pulse for significant
elevation in blood
pressure. Do not wish to affect a heart attack.
Heart attacks can occur in children.
(Children are
outfitted with diapers before the sessions begin, are
also taken to the bathroom
beforehand. Keeps
down unnecessary interruptions). Keep voice on same
level at ALL times. Not
hurried, not raised
or lowered. Same pace at all times. Droning,
hypnotic effect. Helps to stabilize heart
rate.
"When instructions
given to child, and received, then and only then
give reward of name for
identification
purposes. Code phrases -- 'well done,' 'very good,' or
'you did real good.' Avoid hugs,
touch, any other
forms of physical contact. Eye contact necessary,
stabilizing. Allow alter-state to form
place of safety
within, encourage alter to describe internal
surroundings. (All is taped, voice-activated,
recorded later in
the computer records for others to refer to).
"One response is 'I
want my mommy.' Necessary to remind child that, 1)
'Mommy is dead,' 2)
'Mommy brought you
here' (only use if true), 3) 'Mommy is right outside
-- you can see her as soon as
you've finished,'
or 4) 'Mommy told me to tell you to be a good
boy/girl.' Room is kept low lighted for
maximum effect.
They prefer only one person (interventionist) to be
with the child. Less distractions.
They also prefer it
to be a person the child will not be able to ID on
a day-to-day basis in 'outside' regular
activities.
29
"Sessions can vary
greatly, depending on the time allowance, expense
allowance, urgency, etc.
Occasionally
exceptions are made for disciplinary measures. May (in
that case) be an all-nighter.
Keeping the room
dark also helps simulate nighttime, which is conducive
to their 'rehabilitation.'
"The children are
taught responses according to Pavlov's theories --
inpracticum. This basically
involves uses of
'triggers' usually found in the subject's natural,
normal home-based environment.
"Audiological:
Grandfather clocks, church chimes set for certain hours
of the day/night are the
most preferred.
Long-running TV programs are effective on short-time
bases (due to the fact that they
may change times,
etc.). Dogs that bark at certain times of night are
also effective; revving of an engine;
car door opening
and shutting; footsteps outside bedroom window.
Preferable to use natural sights and
sounds due to need
not to arouse suspicions of any household members
not actively involved.
"Visual: Phases of
the moon, clock-faces (preferably digital for
younger children), lights in most
neighbors' houses
turning off, moon rays coming through window in
darkness of night (full moon), and
fireflies can be
very effective and seemingly harmless trigger.
"Other: nursery
rhymes, flags, date on a calendar, religious holidays,
hand signals, words,
phrases, eye winks;
virtually anything can be used as a trigger.
"Step #1 is
invasion, step #2 is intervention. Once the first plateau
of the cyclic invasionary
process is
completed, the child will be 'tested' -- again in-office,
using a number of visual/audiological
sight/sound
external invasion techniques to record the level of
response of the subject (nicknamed 'kneejerk'
response). This can
be a valuable tool in assessing the
cost-and-time-effectiveness of this particular
technique on this
particular subject. Those children who respond more
spontaneously are considered to
be higher-value
prospects for future experimentation." -- Janus (the
programming alter's name)
Are you beginning
to understand how scientific principles and
techniques are used to program
people? Here's more
from "Janus":
"I personally was
assigned 12 babies as an older child. I was about 7
or 8 when I was first
introduced to them
all in a room. They were all children of families.
So they were long-term projects. I
programmed other
children, too. I was found to have a knack for
trouble-shooting -- figuring how what
went 'haywire' and
'reprogramming' them. I didn't try to memorize the
systems. That wasn't my job. My
job was to CREATE
alter personalities. There were other people who were
more trained in the specific
skills of teaching
the alters specific jobs. Once an alter was created,
and trained to come out in response to
a trigger, then
they had to learn their jobs. Sometimes I would visit
different locations and help train
others how to train
the children."
Recall how I told
you that technology is available that allows massive
amount of learning in an
altered state to
occur? Patients have drawn pictures of and described
in detail very sophisticated
electronic
equipment used in programming. When I first discovered the
book Mega Brain, I was
astonished to see
some of the very machines that my patients had
described, years before the book was
published.
Similarly, patients had described virtual reality machines
used in training alters (dissociated
parts) long before
that technology was presented to the public. And
even before machines were used in
programming, enough
was known through secret experimentation on human
beings, that experimenters
knew humans were
capable of memorizing enormous amounts of information
when in an altered state.
In that theta
brainwave state, we have access to an "inner
encyclopedia" of all that we have ever learned
or experienced.
Thus when patients tell us of their "photographic
memories" and are able to recite
verbatim seemingly
endless scripts, it is a phenomenon that is very
real and very understandable, if you
can know how the
brain works.
This knowledge will
also help you understand how programmers use audio
and videotapes and
movies to confuse
people as to what is reality and what is not. In an
altered state, people are forced to
watch movies and
listen to tapes that form what are called "screen
memories" that hide or distort the
memories of what
actually happened to the person. If a person does
begin to recall memories of abuse,
30
or memories of
information that is supposed to be buried so deeply in
the unconscious that it never
reaches conscious
awareness (such as knowledge of abusers, the
particulars of how people are
programmed and
abused, or top secret information ferried to others),
then the screen memories (also
known as "scramble
programs") pop up. When someone begins to tell tales
that others recognize as the
plot of a movie or
television show (I heard the "plots" of the X-files
from patients long before the
television show
existed!), they can be discredited and not believed as
others say "oh, she's just seen the
movie and is
remembering that."
If any of the
readers are still doubtful about whether mind control
really exists, I invite you to read
the public
transcripts of the hearing by the Senate Committee on
Radiation Experiments that was held
on April 15, 1997.
On that date, Valerie Wolfe (a therapist from New
Orleans) and her patient testified
before the Senate
committee about the mind control experiments that are
still being conducted in our
country. They were
allowed to testify because, even though they were
reporting mind control, rather
than radiation
experimentation, the high-level people named as
conducting the experiments were many
of the same names
that had been exposed as doing the radiation
experiments. When they finished
testifying, Valerie
reports, "you could hear a pin drop." It was not in
the mandate of that committee to
investigate the
mind control experimentation; but the Committee did
formally issue a request to the
President that a
thorough investigation be conducted. The transcript of
this hearing is riveting; no one
can tell the story
more convincingly that those who have been through
it. As you read Sue Ford's story,
keep in mind these
things that I have written. Know that thousands of
people have come forth with
information about
these abuses.
"If people truly
want to combat this phenomenon, it must be brought out
into the public; it must
be brought out into
the light of day, and it must be done so very
publicly so as to protect the people
coming forth. It
cannot be combated just on a national level, because
it is international in nature.
Governments work in
collusion with other governments throughout the
world; people who want power
work in collusion
with others; they use each other to gain social,
economic and political power." -- Dr.
Green (a
programming alter)
Pamela J. Monday,
Ph.D.
31
Brice Taylor -
Thanks for the Memories
Insights by Mary
Lewis, LCSW:
AWAKENING TO THE
REALITIES OF MIND CONTROL
I was born in the
Land of Lincoln, following the war to end all wars,
in 1947. It was a time of new
hope, and as a baby
boomer born to a family of educators, I was taught
to believe in God, motherhood,
apple-pie and the
red, white, and blue: America was beautiful. I was
raised in a conservative, traditional
home, the second
oldest child in a family of seven children. We
practiced the Catholic Faith by tradition,
and we children
attended the local parochial school when one was
available. There was no physical or
sexual abuse in my
childhood, so of course I was unaware of its
existence. Because the media had not yet
begun to play out
the truth of such things, I actually reached late
adolescence secure in the knowledge
that the world was
a very safe place in which to be.
I met the man of my
dreams as a senior in college, and we married after
graduation. I look back
over those years
and I marvel at the simplicity of our life then. There
was nothing to fear, except of
course the threat
of some awful communist country again trying to mess
with the United States. I truly
lived my life
believing in our government. In 1985 I began to realize
that a new career might be in the
making, as I saw my
children growing into their own and myself
responding more and more to requests
for help by various
troubled people. I decided to go back to school and
get a Masters in Social Work.
During my
undergraduate work, a professor discussed incest briefly, and
then with some disdain,
assured us that we
would probably never see such a thing, since it only
occurred in the "Hills of
Kentucky." I
believed him. The idea of such a horrible thing happening
to another human being never
crossed my mind
again for many years. During my masters program, I
again received no information
about sexual abuse,
or for that matter, any other abuse. I did not
learn about addictions. I learned about
research, and how
to do it. That is an over-simplification of my
experience, but suffice it to say, it did not
prepare me for what
I was to learn in the field of social work as I
came to know it.
I was assigned an
internship as a unit social worker in a freestanding
psychiatric hospital. Thus
began my real
education. In October of that year, I experienced a
poignant moment, branded in my
mind. One of the
nurses on the unit was commenting on the unusually
high number of sexual abuse
cases we had on the
unit, when another nurse commented, "Oh, didn't you
know this is borderline
season?" I was
shocked to hear such a statement, but it was a long time
before I understood the full
implications of
that remark.
Following my
internship, I was then employed as the unit social worker
at this hospital. It was
here that I began
to hear bizarre stories of satanic ritual abuse from
several of the patients. We also saw
several cases of
self-mutilation, something I sincerely did not know
ever happened, much less in such
massive numbers.
Cutting, burning, using acid to burn the skin, even
one patient who purposely put a
screw in her leg
and let it get infected. This was all new to me. I
didn't know what to make of the ritual
abuse stories; they
were extremely serious in nature, and beyond my
ability to believe. I had never heard
of such a thing,
and yet, hearing the same type of thing over and over
from so many different patients,
confused me.
Something was most certainly not right, but I still had no
idea what was really going on.
As I began my
private practice, I began to hear more and more stories
related to horrible,
ritualistic,
disgusting abuse. One particular case was most disturbing.
This person was most articulate
about what had
happened to her. Her childhood saga would be food for
Stephen King. I was still
confused and
concerned about how I could be hearing so many similar
things from such a diverse
population of
people.
32
My belief system
did not include even the possibility of such trauma,
and yet the possibility that
it might be true
started to seep into my mind. Over a period of a year
and a half, I had three different
clients draw
pictures for me, talk to me, and cry to me about the
horrors of what happened to them while
visiting Disney
World. They all three drew pictures, explained details
and were horrified at what they
had endured at the
most wonderful of rides "It's a Small World." This
was my family's favorite ride, in
fact we so enjoyed
Disney World, we had taken our children two years in
a row when they were younger.
So, indeed I was
shocked, and scared when I began to hear such things
that were so similar, from people
that did not know
each other. Better yet, I was still extremely
skeptical. I did not want to believe that it
was possible. I did
not want to give up my dream world. I did not want
to change my way of thinking.
I acquired Brice
Taylor's first book, STARSHINE: One Woman's Valiant
Escape From Mind
Control, at a
conference where she was speaking. As I began to read her
story, I actually felt sick,
because so much of
what she was describing in the book was so similar
to what I was hearing from
others. A client I
had could have written the book, and yet, I knew
this client had told me her story
several years
before the publishing of STARSHINE. Still, none of this
made any sense to me, as the idea
of mind control was
still a very far-fetched concept in my mind. I
contacted Brice, who told me her real
name was Sue Ford,
and she and this client made contact, only to
discover that they knew a lot of the
same people,
experienced a lot of the same programming, and endured
their own private holocaust. My
skepticism was
eroded by this time, as I personally witnessed the
sharing of this misery.
Although I had to
completely alter my life concepts, my belief system,
and my purpose in doing
my work, I knew I
had no choice but to stand beside these courageous
people who had lived such lives of
horror, and to help
them to have hope. The mind control concept made
more sense to me than just the
ritual abuse alone.
I now know that the ritual abuse was just a means
to an end.
As I continue to
honor these survivors with my belief, I learn more and
more about the evil that
surrounds us, and
the determination of that evil to succeed. It is with
the same fervor that my husband
and I persevere. No
one can change my mind. I know too much now, I have
seen too much now, and my
only hope is that
others of you that read this book will believe her
truth and help stop this living
nightmare.
I have concluded
that the success of the programming depends on the
triumph of the assault on
the five senses.
The programmers use sight, hearing, touch, smell, and
taste to alter a child's
perceptions. The
method used works on the principle of operant
conditioning. For example, tones
paired with
electroshock, in turn wires the commands about these things
into the hard drive of the
child's mind, in
order to control them. Programmers very cleverly use
common things and ideas to
guarantee that a
child will be sure to encounter these things
throughout their lifetime, thus assuring
control.
The telephone is an
example of such programming. A programmed person
under mind control is
extremely tuned
into the telephone. The tones are important, as well as
the number of times a phone
rings. It is
extremely hard for a recovering person to let a phone
ring, and often just the ring alone can
trigger a
panic-attack. The tones played in the act of dialing the
telephone can serve as a trigger to mind
controlled victims
and can be extremely troubling to programmed people.
Things that other people take
for granted as just
a helpful tool, play a frighteningly scary role in
the lives of those who were tortured
with mind-control.
Certain themes have
surfaced throughout the years, which to this day
continue to amaze me as I
hear them over and
over. The Disney Parks, MGM Studios, Disney Movies,
Disney characters, and
Disney songs have
been used in conjunction with the programming. My
understanding of this is that
using such a
familiar and popular theme assures that the program will
be triggered easily. To anyone
33
who is a Disney fan
(and who is not), this is probably one of the
hardest things to believe. However,
sitting where I
sit, hearing what I hear, and seeing what I see, I
cannot refute this truth anymore.
Certain animals are
used in the programming. Dolphins are a common
program. Birds are also
used to ensure the
silence of the programmed person. The child is told
that birds can hear what they do,
and if they tell,
the bird will fly back and tell on them. There is a
constant fear of going to jail, as well.
One of the ways
this is instilled, is the child is forced into
participating in some diabolical, criminal act,
and then the child
is told they are an accomplice. Thus, if they ever
tell, they too will go to jail.
Monarch butterflies
are also used for programming. There is what is
known as the "Monarch
Project." Again, I
don't purport to understand all of this, I just know
that being obsessed with Monarch
butterflies is one
thing in one client, but to have it reported over
and over again becomes suspect.
The programmed
people I have worked with seem to have an obsession with
their own birthdays.
Once in recovery,
unless the suicide programs are disconnected, the
desire to kill themselves as they
remember their past
is overwhelming, especially around the time of
their birthday, and this has proven
true with each
individual I see.
Sleep is also an
issue with programmed people. They rarely sleep for
more than a few hours at a
time, or they have
bouts where all they want to do is sleep. There are
sleep programs, designed to shut
down the mind if it
starts to remember. This is a serious problem for
recovering people, and one that is
often written off
as mere depression. This is another ploy of the
programming; almost any one of the
symptoms taken out
of context could be attributed to another cause. All
this is very cleverly
orchestrated.
There is
programming associated with childhood games such as the game
of LIFE. Played over
and over again it
is a way of instilling the idea of how their life is
to be played out. Grow up, get a job,
make babies, make
money, live happily ever after, so simple, clean, and
coy. Another game reported to
me, over and over
again is the game "No Place to Run, No Place to
Hide." This game was actually
physically acted
out during the programming. The child was made to run
and hide, and then was tracked
down and punished.
The result being, the child learns they can never
get away from this horror.
Certain television
programs and actors have also been a source of
programming for the mindcontrolled
person. Over and
over again I hear the same programs being mentioned,
that they were
forced to watch as
children, and often feel compelled to watch in rerun
form. Certainly I know that we
all have our
childhood favorites, but the obsession that I have
witnessed over certain theme songs,
shows, and even
entertainers goes well beyond the norm. Using music as
a form of mind control is
insidious. Our
minds are like steel traps for words of songs we hear as
children and thus will trigger us
immediately. For
the purpose of mind control, hearing a certain song
can send a recovering mindcontrolled
victim into sheer
panic. Two particular shows seem to be universally
known to the recovering
people I have seen:
THE WIZARD OF OZ and IT'S A GOOD LIFE. The phrase
"follow the yellow brick
road" is a program
used to trigger someone into doing whatever he or
she is told to do.
Food is reported to
me constantly as a trigger for many of the
mind-control survivors. Oreo
cookies are a big
trigger, as well as M&M candies. My
experience has been that if a mind-controlled
person is asked how
they eat M&M's, they will answer with
clarity as to the exact way they do so. It
might be by color,
it might be by color sequence, it might be not
eating a certain color; but there will be a
pattern that must
not be altered. If asked to do so, they will often be
visibly shaken by the request. Ask a
non-programmed
person how they eat them, and they might say "by the
handful," "I don't like them," or
just say that it's
a silly question.
34
Probably the most
disturbing food I find universally reported to be
programming is McDonald's
french fries. I
know there is always some kind of taste war going on
among the fast food giants as to who
has the best fries,
but it is not O.K. if a person feels compelled to
eat McDonald's fries daily. The urge to
do so is so strong,
that several people have reported that this is
their little secret. It embarrasses them,
because they don't
understand the overwhelming urge to eat them. I also
know about food addictions,
but that doesn't
fit for so many of these people.
The one program
that has been a universal theme in all of the people
that I have worked with over
the past 10 years
is their abject fear of going to hell for lying. This
is a particularly clever ploy on the part
of the programmers,
because if indeed a person actually has the courage
to begin to heal from this
horror, and start
revealing to someone, they are instantly paralyzed
with fear. The ultimate insult to
their truth is that
they have been told that if they believe anything
really happened to them, and tell, it
will be a lie. It
is a "Catch 22" designed to keep the silence.
Thank God a few
brave souls have reached beyond that fear and into the
light of truth. This truth
has set them free.
For many of the people I know who were programmed as
children, this truth is now
their reality. Like
Sue Ford, they no longer have repressed the horror,
but instead can recall it. Not
unlike the
survivors of the Holocaust, these courageous people have
overcome their own private war, to
conquer Evil in
it's finest hour. To those who don't or won't believe
what I know to be true, I pray for you
to see the truth,
to help those in need, and to stop the evil from
spreading any further. Healing is
possible, and is
happening. Once the healing begins, the people can
reach out to others that need
healing. We need to
light the "candle of hope" for these precious
people, and pass on the "light of truth."
Mary Lewis, LCSW
35
Brice Taylor -
Thanks for the Memories
AUTHOR'S
INTRODUCTION
Who with conscience
could read the following autobiographical account
and, in the name of
freedom, justice
and love, brush aside the misuse of power, human
slavery and mind control described in
this book? For it
is true that we have still not rid the world of
slavery and in this generation it is slavery
born of a most
malevolent and menacing type. In a society where
competition for wealth, power, and
control of others
is foremost, we as a people are doomed to
self-destruction, unless we change. Our
values need to
change. We need to help our children grow to believe in
equality and justice, and they
need to be taught
the spiritual values that we as a society have come
to disregard over the decades.
Our country is a
young 200 years old. At the conclusion of the adoption
of our Constitution.
Benjamin Franklin
was asked, "What have you wrought?"
In his own words he
answered, "A Republic, if you can keep it."
It has been through
my life experience that I see the need to take a
serious look at how we have so
dangerously strayed
not only from the ideals set forth in our
Constitution, but also from our fundamental
God-given spiritual
values. I know that for my sons, daughter, myself,
my ex-husband, and countless
other men, women,
and children, who at this time are unable to speak
for themselves, the following
amendment to the
Constitution has been violated. It reads:
Section 1. Neither
slavery, nor involuntary servitude, except as a
punishment for Crime whereof
the party shall
have been duly convicted, shall exist Within the United
States, or any place subject to their
jurisdiction.
My children and I
have never consciously committed a crime. WE HAVE
NEVER HAD THE
CHANCE TO LIVE OUR
LIVES IN FREEDOM. Instead we have been put into a
hidden bondage by a
heinous form of
slavery -- one far more evil than has been in existence
in our society before. The
magnitude of horror
and the level of secrecy that shrouds it has
allowed a level of atrocities against
mankind to exist
that surpasses even those in Nazi Germany under the
leadership of Adolph Hitler; and
those men who
worked in his concentration camps have carried his legacy
to our country. Whatever
term one wants to
put to this hideous activity, it is one of total and
complete disregard for humanity, for
human freedom,
civil rights and the right to live safely on this
planet. For, when we as a people allow
certain individuals
in our society to experiment with and enslave other
individuals for the so-called
'advancement of
technology' or the 'race toward world domination,' we
are doomed.
What most of you
have not been allowed to know is that years ago, at
the outset of the Cold War
(if not before),
permission was given to a hidden group of so-called
"professionals and leaders" to
experiment on the
unsuspecting American populace in an effort to
further a variety of advanced
technology. The
technology gleaned by the American leaders, medical
professionals, and scientists was
and still is in the
form of genetic engineering, mind control, brain
research, near death experimentation,
paranormal/psychic
experimentation, remote viewing, time and space
travel, bioelectromagnetic
frequency medicine,
and other advanced research that make our current
level of technological
understanding and
application antiquated. I am not suggesting that the
technology was not, in certain
projects, valuable;
however, I am stating that it was often attained by
the American government at the
expense of American
lives, as many of its citizens were experimented on
without their knowledge or
consent.
Many books have
been written describing innocent peoples' firsthand
accounts of various forms of
ritual abuse,
unauthorized and non-consensual medical experimentation,
genetic experimentation,
radiation
experimentation, drug experimentation and mind control. And
yet, these numerous first-hand
36
accounts of
extremely violated human rights have been cast aside and
denied, even by our own FBI,
CIA and government.
Why, you ask? I believe the following information,
gathered by my personal
involvement as
Henry Kissinger's personal 'mind file,' will help you
understand the situation we face and
what has occurred.
Morally I feel it is my responsibility to share with
you what I witnessed as I walked
among those
participating in these projects. After I have shared with
you what I experienced, it will be
your responsibility
to choose what you do with this information. And I
will finally be able to rest,
knowing I have done
my duty, first to God and then to you, my fellow
citizens, by sharing the truth of my
experiences so that
you can be informed as to what has occurred, to
your detriment and at your expense,
but without your
knowledge or permission.
People often ask me
if I'm afraid that my controllers might kill me.
Honestly, I have had so many
near-death
experiences that I am familiar with dying. Death is not at
all frightening to me. My life has
been restored
through Divine intervention countless times and I trust
that when God is ready for me to
leave this world, I
will go, and I won't go until that Divine timing is
completed. What is frightening is
living without
doing something to alert people to the invisible danger
and loss of rights and freedoms
that are before us.
Some things are so precious and sacred that to
violate them is worse than death.
Specifically, I am
referring to the sacred nature of our minds and
spirits and the Divine core bond that
goes between a
mother and a child. The pain and suffering that results
from the destruction of this bond,
due to a life of
torture and mind control intended to intentionally
shatter this bond and other family
relationships, in
order to establish control, is so excruciatingly
painful that I will do anything necessary
in the service of
stopping it from happening in future generations.
A few years ago,
after I spoke at a Surveillance Expo in Washington,
D.C., an intelligence officer
approached me and
asked me how I managed to stay alive. I explained to
him that I sent documentation
of my recollected
experiences out to professionals who were vocal in
regard to these issues, with a letter
stating that if
anything happened to me, my children, or my ex-husband,
I gave them permission to more
widely distribute
my information. This officer laughed and said,
"Little lady, I believe you have the CIA
by the balls! They
are probably having to protect you." Although I am
still alive, the harassment that I
will share with you
later hasn't stopped.
I submit this
information to you as respectfully as I can. I apologize
for the apparent lewdness of
some of the
material, and yet this is how it happened, this is what
occurred. Please forgive the nature of
the writing, or how
I need to present it, often in it's original
context, the way it was experienced by the
many parts of me.
What you read is a glimpse into the events as
experienced through the eyes of the
programmed
personalities who endured this abuse. You may notice the
different perceptions of different
personalities at
varying ages, and some of the values, or lack of them
that they were taught. Much of the
following
information has been copied, often verbatim, from my private
journals. Over the years, daily, I
painstakingly
documented my memories, in an attempt to deal with and
sort out the often vivid, though
confusing, memory
flashbacks I had. What I remembered was so far from
the reality I thought I had
lived, that it was
deeply disturbing.
What you are about
to read is a composite of years of memory work
describing the details and
information as I
worked to untangle the knot. Having been programmed to
have a perfect photographic
memory greatly
aided me toward this enhanced, often meticulously
detailed account. The training my
controllers gave me
backfired on them. Once my secret life began
leaking into my conscious mind, I
experienced so many
intrusive flashbacks not only in my mind but also
in my body, that it forced me to
recall these
experiences in extensive detail to the point that it
disrupted my everyday functioning ... so
much so, that I was
forced to leave my master's degree program in
graduate school and enroll in daily
therapy. In an
attempt to understand and contain all the information
that came flooding back to my
mind, I was
compelled for years to write out each and every memory the
way I saw it in my mind's eye,
and heard, smelled,
and felt it in my body, so I could attempt to
maintain some semblance of my own
37
personal reality.
This information, chronicled in my journals over the
last 14 years, beginning in 1985,
created a way for
me to report to you what happened to me.
Desperately, I
struggled and worked diligently over the years to pull
myself together in an attempt
to help my
children, my husband, and myself. Looking back, I felt like
a person with no arms or legs
attempting to run
an Olympic marathon. My body was able but I didn't
have the use of my mind, which
was shattered into
a thousand pieces and further locked away from me in
a programmed bondage.
Although I couldn't
think about it, deep within my soul my heart ached
and the wounds festered.
People often ask
me, "How did you get out?"
I answer, "By the
grace of God," and I explain that as I grew older,
although I could not think
about what was
causing me so much pain, I had moments when I could feel
that something was very
wrong. When those
deeply, emotionally troubling and painful moments
came, I asked God to please
help me. Through
daily prayer and the leading of the Holy Spirit, I was
led out of bondage, one step at a
time, until my
programming was broken and I was integrated and free.
It was then, and
continues to be, horrifying to me when my experiences
are validated because it
makes them more
real, and then I am less able to dissociate from the
excruciatingly painful emotional
component of my
past. During the initial stages of my recovery I had to
learn to reconnect to my body
and emotions, to
learn even to cry in personalities that had never been
allowed to express emotion. Then
I had to learn to
think logically and contain my tender, innate female
emotions so that people could
begin to hear what
I was saying and not write me off as a hysterical
woman -- although I had every right
to be, given the
traumatic life my family and I managed to live through.
This manuscript is
not a dramatization, as was my first book,
STARSHINE: One Woman's Valiant
Escape from Mind
Control. Instead it is a documentation of events as
they happened from the best of my
recollection. It is
not written to entertain. In fact, I hope you don't
find it entertaining, for if you do,
you've missed the
point. The pornography that has proliferated in this
world has destroyed countless
lives of children,
women, and men who were used in it and has taught
those who view it to objectify
people. The telling
of the following information is not done with the
intent to further pornography and
lewd sexual
behavior, but in an attempt to stop what has gone on and to
insure freedom of mind, body
and spirit.
I am now fully
integrated and deprogrammed. I feel very fortunate to
have survived and to have
healed to the point
where I can now be a spokesperson for the many who
have been abused in similar
ways and are not
yet recovered enough to speak on their own behalf.
And, there are many. Over the
years, I have
painfully witnessed those who reside in mental
institutions, diagnosed as psychotic,
schizophrenic,
borderline, or delusional; or others locked up as
political prisoners; or worse yet, those
who couldn't
overcome their programming and committed suicide. Many
others walk the earth
dehumanized and
enslaved in programming, living a life of internal and
external hell and terror,
separated from
themselves and their Divine Creator. It is for all of
them that I divulge these very
personal and
painful parts of my life.
Over the years, the
CIA and other groups have strategically and very
effectively orchestrated
campaigns to
discredit victims and the professionals who attempt to
help the victims to bring the reality
of what is actually
occurring to light. Up until recently, the dark
hierarchy that shrouds and protects the
secrecy of this
hidden control of many has been very effective in
keeping this reality a secret. The victims
have not been
heard. They continually suffer discrediting tactics in
the courtroom through the ignorance
of uninformed --
possibly mind-controlled (or compromised) -- judges
and lawyers; in therapy sessions,
often with
uninformed -- possibly programmed -- mental health
professionals and therapists. The
church clergy,
through innocence, disbelief, ignorance, fear, or
possibly programming, often turn their
backs on victims
who need aid and protection. The victims, regardless
of age, need to know that other
38
people and
especially God, hates what has happened to them. We need the
church to stand in its
rightful place in
the public arena and call our nation to account for
the suffering of the most vulnerable.
If spiritually
awakened individuals can't do it, then who can? The Holy
Spirit has shown me it will take
the most
spiritually erudite to stand in the face of this evil
deception. Only by enacting the practice of
spiritual
discernment and carefully listening to Divine spiritual
direction, can this horror be eradicated
forever. It is our
last and only hope.
It is time the
public is made aware so they can begin to abolish the
dark, controlling system that
even began to
target pre-school's in the 70's, torturing and
programming children who didn't even come
from an
intergenerational satanic background, in order to ever widen
their circles of an unpaid, slave
labor force. I am
continually amazed that the public is still swayed by
the CIA-connected, False Memory
Syndrome
Foundation's propaganda, which explains that therapists
instill these memories of horror into
their desperate
clients and that children with large imaginations are
making up these stories. Ask
yourself how a
child three or four years old could make up these vile
stories that are beyond their ageappropriate
understanding ...
and what a coincidence that the accounts match other
children's testimony
across the nation.
Have the children been secretly uniting, sharing
their "large imaginative experiences"
across the nation
in order for them to all come up with similar
accounts? The facts of many preschool
court cases, the
testimony of the children, and the bungling and
misrepresentation from lawyers and
judges in case
after case has allowed the truth to be squelched.
Those within the
American Psychiatric Association who still cling to
the false notion that Multiple
Personality
Disorder (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual IV now calls it
Dissociative Identity Disorder) is
rare, rob the many
suffering victims of the opportunity to recover. We
need to begin to more fully
understand that a
child's, and especially an infant's, psyche is
vulnerable and can be shattered into other
personalities due
to early childhood abuse. When we understand this we
will be able to raise more stable
children who can
then grow into healthy, creative adults. Many adults,
like myself, find themselves
spending the rest
of their lives trying to recover from their
childhood. Early abuse wreaks havoc
physically,
mentally, and spiritually on the most vulnerable and most
valuable resource we have, our
children.
Once again I
apologize for the pornographic nature of some of this
material. In light of my
current Christian
values, it is difficult and often embarrassing to
mention the sexual perversions that I
was exposed to, and
yet to alter the information that was brought back
to my conscious awareness
through the eyes
and perception of those personalities who were forced
to experience it, seems to
compromise the
reality of what actually happened. I have attempted to
report my history in the best way
I know how, yet I
have found it impossible to report my experience to
you with the wholesome morality
that now rules my
life. If you are faint of heart or have difficulty
dealing with horrific or lewd material,
please ask God to
strengthen you to face the truth set forth in this
book.
In the words of
Edmond Burke, "The only thing necessary for the triumph
of evil is for good
people to do
nothing." We have reached a point in time where it is
imperative for good people to act. It
is time for those
who have any moral judgment to react, and then to
pursue their reaction with action. It
will take all of
us, standing for what we believe in, questioning old
beliefs and old value systems until
they are aligned
with the Mind of Christ. Do we really still believe in
"One Nation Under God," or have
we lost our way in
the hundreds of mindless duties and realities
presented by the mass media? When
will we slow down?
God is not a God of confusion, nor is He a God of
hurry, or suffering. He is our
Almighty God, in
Him whom we can trust. For generations humanity has
been deceived and those who
are willing to put
their trust and faith in God, shall rise to His
Glory, as He shows the way to victory. Our
God, whom we once
put in charge of our nation, is still waiting. He is
still there, wanting to be of
assistance, and
never in the history of mankind have we been in such
desperate need of His help, of His
guiding hand. And
so as we begin this journey together, with me as the
reporter, and you the reader that
God has called to
be present, I offer this prayer:
39
Dear Father God,
Jesus, Lord of Lords, God Most High,
We come to You now,
in humbleness, God, asking for Your help. We know
of our own strength we
are unable to solve
the problems at hand, and God, we know that things
in this world are out of control
and that only You
can guide us back to balanced ways. We also know as
Your Word has promised that
we are cared for by
You, much more than the birds and the lilies of the
field, and now we ask You to show
us the way. We
thank You Lord, we Glorify Your Holy Name. Thanks for
sending Your son, Jesus, to
show us the way.
Please be with us now, as we enter a time of national
and international unrest. We
know that these are
growing pains. We know that You didn't cause them,
that Your will is not for our
suffering, but that
by our own actions these disasters and wars have
and will continue to occur. Bless us
with Your
anointing. Open the eyes of our understanding. I pray that in
this book Your will may shine
forth so that all
of us who partake can shine for You.
In Christ,
Susan Ford
Brice Taylor
(pseudonym)
"Things are hidden,
temporarily, only as a means to revelation. For
there is nothing hidden except to be
revealed, nor is
anything temporarily kept secret except in order that
it may be known.
"If any man has
ears to hear, let him hear and perceive and comprehend.
"Be careful what
you are hearing. The measure of thought and study you
give to truth that you will hear
me with measure of
virtue and knowledge that comes back to you, and
more will be given to you who
hear.
"For to him who has
heard and understood, more will be given, and from
him who has not heard and
understood, even
what he has will be taken away from him." -- Mark
4:22-25
"It isn't that they
can't see the solution. It's that they can't see
the problem."
-- G. K. Chesterton
"Power is the
Ultimate Aphrodisiac"
-- A Quote by:
Henry A. Kissinger Then Secretary of State
40
Brice Taylor -
Thanks for the Memories
Chapter One: The
Creation of Human Robot
My name is Susan
Lynne Eckhart Ford and I am a 48 year old, native
Californian. Until 1995, I
suffered from a
debilitating condition known as Multiple Personality
Disorder.2 In 1985 I embarked on
the long and
tedious, painful road to recovery. Through years of
therapy and deprogramming I
completely
reintegrated my multiple personalities back into my uniform
core self, and through the grace
of God, I am alive
today to convey to you my true life experiences.
This account of my remembrances
will be so shocking
and amazing that you may feel that you've entered
the 'twilight zone.' Many waking
up today, call this
making a 'paradigm shift' in reality; I call it
knowing the truth. But, do keep your faith
in God and
humanity, for, as my father reminded me day after day, "The
truth will set you free."
My multiple
personality condition resulted from what I had first
thought in 1986 was solely sexual
and ritual abuse.
But, as I began to heal and remember more of my
hidden past, I realized that ritual
abuse was merely
the mind control trauma base my ritually abused,
programmed, pedophile father,
Calvin Charles
Eckhart, and others used to condition me for
participation in the still active top secret
Project Monarch,
the Central Intelligence Agency's white slavery
operation that is related to MKULTRA
and it's numerous
sub-projects.
I was raised in the
affluent area of Woodland Hills, California, but
was abused my entire life in
many locations in
and out of California, including hospitals,
universities, and United States military and
NASA bases, where I
was subjected to 'high-level' programming. The
result of many years of trauma,
intentionally
inflicted on me by my father and others to CREATE within
me multiple personalities, was
that I was
transformed into a programmed, totally robotical slave that
could not remember to think or
tell what happened
to me, due to the mind control and sophisticated
programming I was under.
I was used
frequently in child and adolescent prostitution and
pornography. By my preteen years,
I had many
personalities specially programmed to be the perfect sex
slave -- a "presidential model" with
government mind
files and a photographic memory equipped to deliver
(most often through sexual
encounters)
messages, some cryptic, to top government officials,
entertainers, and other world figures.
From 1987 to 1991,
I was in intensive daily therapy in California,
remembering a complex
childhood that now
has been validated, in part, through intelligence
community, CIA, and FBI contacts
(active and
retired), as well as through investigative journalists,
knowledgeable mental health
professionals, and
family members. In my quest for understanding and
self-knowledge, I attended
school to attain my
Master's Degree in Psychology. But, in April of
1991 I was forced to leave my home
and family in
California, due to a clever plot and threat to my life if
I continued to pursue remembrance
of my past in
therapy and try to become healed. One of my therapists,
Margaret Paul, Ph.D., who is also
a popular author,
suggested that for my safety I should leave Los
Angeles for awhile. Upon her
recommendation, I
fled to the island of Kauai, Hawaii, where
unbeknownst to me I was still part of the
project and still
not free.
After I fled from
California and was no longer living in the midst of
my programmed abuse base,
nor was I in
therapy, I began having vivid, detailed memories of being
used both as a sex slave and
human mind file
computer to some of our nation's highest level
governmental officials in and out of the
White House. Among
them: John F. Kennedy (sex and delivered messages).
Lyndon Baines Johnson
(sex and delivered
messages), Henry Kissinger (masterminded my U.S.
Government and international
mind file use),
Nelson Rockefeller (mind file use coordinated in
conjunction with Henry Kissinger),
2 Multiple
Personality Disorder (MPD): Current American Psychiatric
Association listing in the Diagnostic and Statistical
Manual IV is
Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID).
41
Gerald Ford (sex
and delivered messages), Jimmy Carter (delivered
messages), Ronald Reagan (sex
and delivered
messages), George Bush (mind file use; he is a known
pedophile and had sex with my
programmed daughter
Kelly), and top entertainment professionals, such
as my "owner" Bob Hope (sex
and message
courier).
The media
surrounding the exposes of Bob Hope's secret life and the
books written by Arthur
Marx (Groucho's
son), The Secret Life of Bob Hope, and Lawrence J.
Quirk's recent book, Bob Hope: The
Road Well-Traveled,
begin to portray some examples of the flaws to
Bob's seemingly All-American,
patriotic, and
family loving public image. My controllers and abusers
were not low-level criminals, but
instead were some
of the so-called "adored" leaders and entertainers of
our country.
I felt alone and
terrified as I began to break free from the control I
was under. Catherine Gould,
Ph.D., an
internationally known therapist with years of experience
treating ritual abuse victims
explained that she
couldn't be my therapist, for fear of losing her
license or being sued since she sensed I
was a 'high-level'
survivor. At that time, although I had begun to have
memories of being with Ronald
Reagan during the
time he was Governor of California and other
government officials, due to the fact
that I was still
under mind control, I had no way of understanding what
'high-level' meant. At that time,
many therapists,
including my own - Margie Paul, were beginning to have
their licenses pulled and often
suffered
professional consequences for treating ritual abuse survivors,
especially those who were "highlevel."
In April of 1991,
when I fled to the island of Kauai, Catherine agreed
to consult with me by phone,
and advised me to
write a book, which resulted in STARSHINE: One
Woman's Valiant Escape From
Mind Control. She
further advised me to continue documenting the names,
dates and places of my
abuse in an effort
to one day go public in order to free my husband, my
children, and myself.
Over the next year
on the island, I recovered more of my memory, but
was devastated to be
separated from my
children and tried to adjust to a radically changed
lifestyle, including the fact that I
was now living
without my family, friends, and loved ones, and had very
limited finances. I was
overwhelmed with
grief, carrying a burden that few wanted to seriously
look at. Several people stepped
forward to help me
in whatever ways they could, offering emotional
support and friendship, some even
financial support
when I ran out of money, but no one could really keep
me safe, until I was fully
deprogrammed from
inside of myself so I could not be accessed. To
reiterate a vitally important fact --
until I was fully
deprogrammed, I was not safe. In 1991, there was no
one who knew what I was talking
about who could
help me. I had to find help within myself. And I did.
Throughout my healing process,
Angels guided me
when I was too afraid to connect with Christ, due to
the satanic ritual abuse I had
endured in the
church as a child. The Angels continually led me to
books and incredible people, thereby
fulfilling God's
plan for my eventual freedom.
Since
multigenerationally abused and traumatized victims are selected
for the mind control
projects, my three
children, Kevin, Kelly, and Danny were naturally
trained to follow in my footsteps as
assets of my
controllers. Except for Kelly, they are still locked into
their abuse base. Despite my efforts to
get help for them.
Their similarly programmed father unfortunately
'doesn't have a clue,' as yet, and so
all legal custody
has been taken away from me by the State of
California. Toward the goal of getting my
children free, I
have spent years desperately documenting my past, a
task at which some of our top
governmental
officials and entertainers would have liked to see me fail.
My affluent abusers
made sure that I was instilled with very
sophisticated programming that
would insure my
death should I begin to remember or tell. Despite the
fact that I was programmed to
have an 'accident,'
self-mutilate, or kill myself, I am healthy, in
control of my own mind, and have NO
intentions of
hurting myself in any manner. I am taking extreme
precautions through publicizing this
autobiographical
account to encumber these power mongers from stopping
my efforts to obtain help for
my affected
children. It is in hopes of freeing them, and the many
other suffering adults and children
locked into the
bonds of the mind control projects, that I share my
experience.
42
The intentionally
inflicted and often extreme child abuse I endured was
the necessary
"preparation
through trauma" that my controllers regarded as
prerequisite to my creation as a
sex/espionage agent
serving within the government and beyond to an
overarching cabal of only a
handful of
individuals, who I overheard referred to as "The Council."
For years I witnessed the attempts
and deeds they
performed to control not only our government, but
foreign governments as well. This
initial childhood
trauma was necessary to create within me multiple
personalities for later use by them,
insuring their
success of my involuntary use and participation in their
plan for a one world government,
where you and I are
to work in varying levels -- as controlled slaves
or, as they say, "worker bees."
"To be afraid is to
have more faith in evil than in God." -- Emmet Fox
43
Brice Taylor -
Thanks for the Memories
Chapter Two: Early
Childhood Preparation
"Love bears all
things, believes all things, hopes all things." --
Galatians
In order for my
birth to be accomplished on presidential inauguration
day, January 20th, 1951,
my mother's labor
was induced at St. John's Hospital in Santa Monica,
California. My parents named
me Susan Lynne
Eckhart. The selection of inauguration day for my birth
was especially meaningful
given the position
I would be groomed to one day fill. My parents told
the story for years that my first
words were, "I like
Ike." Even at the early age of one, they were
training me to be politically-minded and
had me cheering in
a campaign effort for the President-elect.
Once my mother and
I were released from the hospital after my birth, my
father began the
rigorous training
and intentional torture required to shatter my base
personality with the goal of creating
many separate and
individual personalities for training and use by
others as I grew older. When my
mother left my
father to babysit me, he withheld all food until I was
starving. Then he held my bottle in
front of me, but
instead of allowing me to have the bottle, he would
slip his penis into my mouth for me
to suck. I felt I
was dying through suffocation, as my airway was
blocked and I gagged for breath. There
were many such
traumas to follow, most often on a daily basis.
For you to
understand how I came to trust the things I began
remembering at age 35 about my
earliest childhood,
I will share the following experiences. In
meditation, I began remembering small,
inconsequential
things at first, like the time my mother left my father
to care for me when I was four
months old. He laid
me on top of the dining room table and watched as I
fell off! I clearly remembered
the panicked
feeling of terror as I was falling and remembered the
overwhelming sharp pain that
resulted in my body
as I hit the floor. I also remembered the color of
the carpeting, the design on the
wallpaper and other
details about the room. We moved from this house in
Santa Monica when I was 6
months old, and I
never saw it again.
Unable to fathom
what these earliest of childhood memories could mean,
I began reading about
the experiences of
Vietnam veterans and how they suddenly relived
flashbacks of traumas they witnessed
in war. I thought
this might be the same type of memory phenomenon. In
order to test my recall of this
particular
incident, I shared the details of this memory with my
mother. Her reaction was one of
amazement although
she seemed terribly confused about my father's
actions. She said I had described
our first house and
was surprised I could remember so accurately
details from an event that happened
when I was only an
infant. Being the third child to a very busy mother,
there were no pictures taken of
me in that house
that I could have seen. The validation she gave me
made me feel more trusting of the
other memories that
soon began flooding back into my awareness.
Trauma to Create
Multiple Personality Disorder
Memories of trauma
too overwhelming to bear as a child unfolded for me
to deal with as an adult.
Bit by bit, piece
by piece, I began to remember and understand just
what had actually happened to me as
a child, but in no
way did the memories come neatly packaged in
chronological order. It took the test of
time, as each
memory fit into ones before and after them and, like a
puzzle, with all the pieces laid in
proper place, I
began creating a more complete yet horrifically
devastating picture.
Armed with that
first validation from my mother and the support of two
therapists, I began daily
therapy remembering
heinous tortures, terrifying abuses, and strange
details that were painfully yet
neatly
compartmentalized into the reality of separate child and adult
personalities programmed within
44
me. Many had
separate names. This was in 1987, two years after my
initial "awakening" first began.
And I was, now, for
the first time, accurately remembering my earliest
childhood. I was referred to
Stuart Perlman,
Ph.D., a Westwood clinical psychotherapist, and began
seeing him a few sessions a week
until the self-harm
and suicidal crises I was attempting to live
through, triggered by remembering things
I was programmed
forget, quickly required my sessions with him to
escalate to seven or more per week.
I was also having
weekly sessions with Margaret Paul, Ph.D.
At the time I began
therapy, neither of my therapists was familiar with
dissociation, Multiple
Personality
Disorder, or ritual abuse. The vivid, painful and often
terrifying flashbacks and abreactions
of the traumatic
memory I retrieved in and out of their offices left
all of us in a quandary, trying to make
sense of what was
happening to me. Dr. Perlman wrote an article on
MPD/ritual abuse for a
psychoanalytical
journal, where he shared that as time went on he came
to understand that Multiple
Personality
Disorder was not as rare as he had been taught it was in
school. Although his quiet, aloof,
non-interactive,
psychoanalytical stance often made me uncomfortable
during therapy sessions, I was
later grateful that
he had not interjected his own reality into my
memory retrieval process and kept to
himself his initial
belief that I was delusional. My first session with
Dr. Perlman was deeply touching as
tears fell from his
cheeks when I recounted instance after instance of
childhood abuse. His wise words to
me that day were,
"Everything you need to heal is within, you have all
the answers inside of yourself."
My other therapist,
Dr. Paul, and I were continually perplexed as to
what all the memories meant
and didn't have an
answer until a year later when I attended a Victims
of Incest Emerge as Survivors
(VOICES) conference
in New Jersey by myself, where I heard a female
minister speak about satanic
ritual abuse. At
the end of the lecture, I felt numbed, as the speaker
recounted many tortures similar to
those I had
remembered from my childhood. The "big, beautiful, perfect
fairy tale life" I thought I was
living began to
crumble, one memory at a time. The following is a
carefully compiled documentation of
my past.
When I was six
months old, my father and mother decided to move to a
more rural setting to raise
their young family.
My brother Jim was eight, my brother Rick was four,
and I was six months old. My
father borrowed
money from my mother's mother to purchase a
three-bedroom ranch home located in
the midst of a
walnut grove in Woodland Hills, California. This home
was to be the base for hidden and
extreme torture and
trauma for me over the next 19 years. Those years
of trauma should have been
enough to kill ten
children, but somehow it didn't kill me. My father
told me each time he hurt me that
he was doing it to
toughen me, to strengthen me for the future. In
response, I was split into many
personalities to
cope with the overpowering physical and psychological
pain and betrayal.
My father worked
for others as a welder until 1957 when he decided to
be his own boss, prompting
the opening of his
own welding shop. This business, Eckhart's Welding
Shop (located on Pico Boulevard
in West Los
Angeles), initially was our only source of income, since my
mother stayed at home as a fulltime
housewife and
mother. We lived simply and frugally, getting by on the
amount of money my father
earned. Sliced in
between and existing parallel to the everyday
conscious reality we shared as a family,
was a very dark,
secret and painful reality shared in sub-consciousness
and in pain. I will share many of
these slices of
darkness with you so that you the reader can understand
how this all came about.
When I was a year
old, my father placed me in a blanket that was
suspended by a rope from the
high ceiling in our
living room and spun me around and around and
around until I was completely dizzy
and disoriented. He
then introduced a trauma, like putting something
sharp up my vagina and my
young psyche
shattered, splitting off another personality to withstand
the pain. He began sexually
abusing me in my
early months, by inserting objects into my vagina,
gradually stretching it so that I
would be able to
accept a full grown man's penis by the time I was two.
I was being groomed for early
child prostitution,
pornography, and a position in the "inner circle"
at church.
45
When I was just
months old, my mother recounts that she tearfully
handed me over into the
arms of her brother
John who took me for a week to Santa Barbara. When
she told me of this incident
she always sounded
like she had no choice, no free will from where she
could command that no one
could take her new
born baby away from her. The memory of what happened
in Santa Barbara with my
Uncle John remains
inaccessible to me at this time, yet I know it must
be significant.
Unfortunately as
you can well understand, my poor mind-controlled
mother never had a chance
and was totally
manipulated by my father who I believe suffered from
Multiple Personality Disorder
(MPD/DID), had been
ritually abused himself, and was most likely also
under mind control. Much of
the time my mother
was a loving, caring, gentlewoman, but she was
controlled. She spent her daytime
hours obsessively
cleaning house, ironing everything that she perfectly
washed, scrubbing floors,
washing windows,
cooking, and attending to our needs. After dinner,
while my mother did the dishes,
my father sat down
to watch television and read the paper. While he was
relaxing, my mother began her
next job doing the
bookkeeping for my father's business; she didn't
stop her duties or sit down until she
collapsed into bed
at 11:00 o'clock at night.
When I began
recovering in the 80's, I asked my mother why all she did
was scrub and clean the
house and didn't
pay attention to me as a child. Her response was,
"Sue, looking back, I felt like there
was something
really dirty about our home."
My mother was able
to feel what she wasn't allowed to think about, and
she was right; there was
something dirty.
She subconsciously tried to take care of the problem
in the only way she knew how; by
cleaning it away.
She slept through, was programmed, drugged, or was in
a dissociative daze when I was
being abused or
when she was being beaten by my father or abused by
others. She obsessively listened to
music, which helped
her to tune out and mellow. Knowing what I know
now, most likely she was
listening to music
she was told to listen to in order to keep her
memory of our actual life locked deeply
within her
subconscious mind, while the programmed reality of herself
and our "perfect happy family"
was kept alive
through programmed phrases in the music.
My father made
medicine for my mother. She followed my father's orders
and programming to a
tee. Dutiful to her
programming, she delivered me to and from places
where I was to be prepared,
trained,
programmed, and used, without ever being consciously aware of
what she was doing. To this
day, if asked about
it, my mother cries and says that, while she
believes and feels the allegations of what
happened to me are
true, she just can't remember.
Church Ritual Trauma
Around this time,
my mother joined the First Baptist Church of Woodland
Hills, and began taking
me with her to
church. Later, in therapy, I remembered and drew
pictures of tunnels that I remembered
running under the
church that connected with neighboring homes of inner
circle church perpetrators.
On Sunday mornings,
my mother left me in the nursery while she went to
the sermon. Members of the
church staff, some
of them neighbor women and the minister,
ritualistically abused me in that church.
The elder minister
who abused me was Rev. Grant B. Yeatman.
By age two, I was
out of the church nursery and attending a small
Sunday school class with other
children. One
Sunday, when I was a bit older, Rev. Yeatman walked into
my Sunday school class and
watched as we
played a game and drew pictures. He pointed to me and
said that I was "God's chosen"
and told me to
follow him. Once we were outside in a protected area, he
forced my head down under his
robe to perform
oral sex on him like my father had prepared me from
birth to do. After I was finished,
he wiped my mouth
with a handkerchief and told me that I was going to
hell for what I had just done, but
that I would be
forgiven if I never told anyone about it. He further
offered to pray for my soul and then
sent me back to my
Sunday school class.
46
Another Sunday,
after being sodomized in a back room by Rev. Yeatman,
he took me by the hand
back to my Sunday
school class, bent down and pointed to a picture of
Jesus sitting with the little
children around him
and whispered, "Jesus will never love a little girl
who is as bad and evil as you."
From then on I
believed there was something terribly wrong with me and
that I would never fit in with
other people. I
figured Jesus couldn't love me because I was so bad.
Parts of me died inside. But deep
within my soul, in
my innermost hidden and protected self, angelic
beings continually reminded me of
God's love for me
and of their support. When I was tortured to the
extent of being projected out of body
due to the extreme
pain, Jesus' Angels spoke lovingly to me and
explained that I needed to go back into
my body, that some
day when I was older I would understand. But
subconsciously, in my limited child
understanding, I
believed I was unlovable and hideous in the eyes of
God.
Other Sundays,
different children were "God's chosen" and had to leave
the room with the
minister.
Many of the people
who worked at the church, the church secretary and
the Sunday school
teachers, were
neighbors of ours and, I now understand were most likely
ritually abused as children and
were carrying out
their violent actions via their own unconscious
childhood programming.
Mrs. Winkler, the
church secretary, lived across the street. In
addition to Christianity, she also
practiced sorcery
and witchcraft in her darkened home, isolated and
protected from outside intrusion by
drape-covered
windows. As a toddler, my father would wake me, early on
Saturday or Sunday mornings
and take me across
the street along with a carrot, to "feed the
horsies." We always did feed the horses
but the actual
purpose of these outings was to get me out of the house
to go see Mrs. Winkler for what
they called "my
training and preparation."
Mrs. Winkler lit
candles and laid my tiny body down on her table,
performing chants over me,
while she was
sticking sharp needles in my feet, burning me with the
hot candle flames, or scaring me
with spiders. She
would say, "Hold real still, Susie, so this potion
can get in. You will be powerful and
very special one
day. Your father is paying for this, for you to be
made special because he loves you. You
will be known."
She told me at
other times that I was chosen by God to fulfill some
mission. Instead of organized
Satanism, she
practiced her own perverted form of Christianity with the
purpose of "purifying me" to rid
me of all evil. She
never directly addressed Satan, but instead spoke
of hell and damnation; it was a fire
and brimstone style
of fundamental Christianity, mixed with witchcraft.
Mrs. Winkler cut pieces of my
hair and saved them
for rituals that were held with other "inside"
church members and my father in
outdoor rural
places, in the middle of the darkened night.
Trauma Programming
For years, my
father performed a variety of brutal, ritual-type
physical and psychological abuses,
among them:
confinement in closets, cages, and a coffin, while I was
told I was being left to die; near
drowning;
isolation; needles inserted in sensitive body areas; food and
sleep deprivation; electroshock
via electric wires,
welding equipment, cattle prods, etc.; drugging;
sophisticated hypnotic and electronic
programming; tying
me upside down to walnut trees out in the isolated
walnut groves and other places;
forcing me to
participate in torturous rituals and orgies; and sexually
abusing me, each time in more
perverted ways.
At that time,
Woodland Hills was still in its own infancy. At first,
there were only two or three
other houses built
on our street, insuring my father and others plenty
of wide-open spaces to conduct
their crimes. In
1952, what is now known as the "101 Freeway" had not
yet been built. The area was still
largely undeveloped
and rural, allowing for these crimes to easily go
undetected.
47
While I was still
very small, my father had an affair with another
church secretary named Selma
McGrew who lived in
the house behind ours. She participated in my
"preparation" by allowing my father
to include me in
the sex they were having. Being so young and small I
often felt I would be killed during
these encounters,
and so I split off more personalities to endure it.
Nighttime was never
intended for sleeping at our house but instead was
a time of training. My
mother was the only
one allowed and/or commanded to sleep. My two older
brothers, Jim and Rick, and
my father came into
my room night after night, creating an endless
array of different forms of sexual
abuse, all under my
father's direction. My brother Rick, who is four
years older than I, was selected to
participate more
often and my father used him to help "prepare" me for
use as a child prostitute and for
my approaching
debut in pornography.
The two of us were
sexually abused together and were both
electroshocked with bare electric wires
to our genitals. I
painfully remembered my brother sitting robotically
while my father attached a bare
wire to his penis
and then inserted the opposite end in the electrical
outlet, sending his little body into
uncontrollable
spasms. Tears flooded my brother's eyes and ran down his
cheeks as he then was forced
to watch as I was
electroshocked. For years my mother told the story of
how she continually found my
brother hiding
behind the couch shocking himself by inserting bare
wires into the electrical outlet. She
laughed a kind of
confused, questioning laugh as she spoke this. She
probably couldn't think to question
where the
bare-wired cord came from or why her young son was
continually seeking to electroshock
himself. I stuck a
table knife in an electrical socket so often that
there was a knife in the kitchen drawer
that was notched
from being repeatedly inserted into the outlet. This
unconscious act reinforced our
programming.
I was often
awakened and drugged in the middle of the night by my
parents in order to attend
rituals that were
performed in the empty lot behind the church and at
other locations around Woodland
Hills. Many of the
gullies and outdoor places that were used for
rituals when I was a young child have
since been
developed into homes or large cement drainage areas, but in
the 50's these areas provided
seclusion for this
group. The whole congregation did not participate in
these nightly horrors, only a
select inner circle
was allowed in.
At two, I was
initiated into the inner circle with a celebration
dedicating me as the bride of Christ.
I was drugged,
dressed in a long white lace gown, and passed around the
circle of drugged members as
they sat around a
bonfire in a vacant lot, during the middle of the
night. Each member fondled me
sexually, then I
was lain on an altar to be raped and dedicated to
Christ and the group. The inner circle
members wore black
robes and participated in sexual orgies and the
killing and ingesting of animal and
human flesh. Their
belief was that these cannibalistic and sexual acts
would transfer the energy or life
force from the
victim to them in order to make them more powerful.
I was involved in
endless rituals that included being burned with
candles, having crucifix's
jammed up my vagina
as I lay on an alter or hung upside down on a
cross, having pins inserted into
every area of my
body including my vagina and the roof of my mouth, and
having animals and babies
killed in front of
me and being forced to eat their raw flesh and drink
their blood or urine. Other
children were
involved in the rituals, and when we reached a certain
age we were forced to participate in
killing animals and
babies. In order to psychologically survive these
experiences, many additional
personalities
within me were created. Nothing was ever as painful as
being forced to inflict pain on
another or watch as
others were tortured or killed.
My Doll Collection
I had a doll
cabinet that my father had specially made for me. It was
filled with dolls from all over
the world, that
were given to me to love. My father used my dolls to
program different personalities
48
within me, as he
abused me night after night. Often when my father
tortured me he would hand a
different doll for
me to hold in order to create different parts of me
with different identities that in my
young mind I could
relate to the doll I was holding. He told me the
doll in my hand was part of me but
separate and then
he would call it by name. There was the little doll
with the red hair and freckles, the
baby doll, Cyndy
the bride doll, Rebecca, Sally, Thumbelina, Barbie and
Madame Alexander, to name a
few.
There were dolls
everywhere around me, especially in that doll case
that my father had made for
me with the sliding
glass window front so the dolls could be seen. Each
doll was "displayed" which my
father said meant
they couldn't play until he said it was time for them
to come out of the case. At night
when he woke me for
abuse, he took out the doll whose personality was
to be the front, or presenting,
personality of my
inner system of created personalities. As he pulled a
doll out of the doll case he'd say,
"she's no longer on
display, she can come out and play now," and at
that tender age, I would switch into
the personality my
father called forth. Then he would say, "You Susie,
will step aside as Doll fully enters
your body. Whenever
I snap my fingers three times, Doll will enter the
body and Susie will step aside,
like this now," and
he would snap his fingers three times and I would
follow my father's command,
totally and
completely.
Holidays
Holidays always
signaled times of trauma. One Christmas I awoke excited
to see what Santa had
brought for me. My
two worlds and the personalities that lived in them
were continually subjected to
different
realities, and this day was to be no different. Susie in her
red velveteen robe got special
treatment while
other personalities had "Xmas," a very different
painful and evil reality. While Susie got
a Christmas
stocking full of goodies, Sharon got razor blades and coal
and parts of dead animals.
"Sharon" was
another one of my inner personalities my father created,
which he developed as my "inner
twin" to Susie, my
conscious everyday personality. One Christmas ritual
trauma I vividly remembered
was when my father
laid me down on the rug in front of the fireplace
and placed his finger inside my
vagina while he
readied a hot poker in the fire. Somehow putting me in
a trance-state, he began, "You
won't feel this.
You will only continue to feel the pleasure, just like
I am rubbing now. Does it feel
good?"
"Yes Daddy," I
robotically answered.
"Good, then when I
do this it will only increase the pleasure," he kept
his finger in place until he
got the hot poker
out of the fire and as he put it inside me, he took
his finger out and as hypnotically
commanded, I felt
only the pleasure of the hot inside me. Very lovingly
he said, "Very good, honey.
You're doing very
well. Now take a deep breath and count to three and
feel like you have to pee. Then
when I take this
out, you will feel even more pleasure. Okay?"
"Yes, Daddy," I
said putting my little hand up in front of my face
while I counted off, "One," as I
held up one finger,
then "two," putting up two fingers, then, "three,"
and when he had taken the poker
out, I felt really
happy. It didn't even hurt. I couldn't feel the pain
of the red-hot thing. In months that
followed, I reached
out and touched a piece of red-hot angle iron when
my father was welding, and when
it burned my hand
badly, I was surprised. I didn't understand that it
would bum me. My father was an
expert at those
"games."
At other times he
put something scary in front of my face to startle me
before he did something
traumatic to me.
Then he would tell me to feel numb while he put a
silver metal band around my wrist
and forehead and
would shock me with the black box that was attached to
the bands with wires. He'd
say "you're doing
very well," but my face would be sweating and it
stung when he gave me what he called
"a jolt."
49
At odd times, even
when other people were around, my father would say,
"Do you want a jolt?"
I'd say, "No,"
while I giggled nervously, acting like it was a game but
it wasn't.
Often after one of
these jolting experiences, I felt so sleepy and my
mom would say, "What's
wrong with you? Are
you sick?"
"I dunno," I'd say,
because I didn't know anything. To know was to
'know,' and to 'know' was very
bad and you got
very hurt. So certain personalities within me took the
pain and torture after which I
would be switched
back to Susie who had no knowledge of any of it.
There were nights
my father would wake me out of sleep and devise ways
to spin me until I was
totally
disoriented, after which he took me to look at myself in front
of a mirror and called me by another
name other than my
own, "Sandy, that is you in the mirror, and Sandy is
my friend. She is going to help
us. She is a friend
of Susie's, but Susie doesn't know Sandy exists.
Susie doesn't even need to think
about you, Sandy."
And these were some of the tactics used to shatter
and then create alternate
identities within
me from a very early age.
In hypnotic trance
I was told, "The balloons will take you away, take
you to the rooms with the
many personalities,
but as you look at each one, you know that they are
you. They are all you. But only
one at a time. One
room and one person at a time."
Other nights, I was
awakened from sleep and sexually abused to create
the dissociative barrier
and to create more
personalities or attitudes. I was told, "Now look
into the first room. There's Darla.
Isn't she cute and
pretty, and she is always happy. Darla's dedicated
to the stars. She always knows just
what to say and do
to make others feel good, to make them happy. Now
look into the second room.
There's Sandy.
She's the dancer. She can dance very well and she is
able to bend in all different
directions ... to
everyone's amazement. She's not at all embarrassed to
take off her clothes in front of
people. She likes
that, it makes her feel good. But she can only do
that when the time is right." My
father also placed
stars on my ceiling that lit up at night to remind
me of the programming.
Over the years my
controllers created programming for every single
thing they could dream up.
And they programmed
in angel personalities intended to handle the pain
when I could not.
But their spiritual
short-sidedness left them in the dark when I
transcended their created angelic
personalities, and
left my body escorted by real Angels. I owe my life
to God and those beautiful loving
Beings who kept my
soul and my love intact as they continually
interceded for the little girl they
witnessed tortured
unceasingly.
Military Base
Programming
Dick Hof was a
marine in the reserves. He and his family moved in next
door when I was around
three years old. He
told me he didn't, know exactly how to treat little
girls because he only had boys. On
certain weekends he
wore his uniform and took me to military bases
where the men wore tan uniforms.
They saluted him
when he was around and he acted very normal until we
were out of the other men's
sight. He took me
into top-secret places where he showed some sort of
pass to gain entrance. Once we
were in the secret
place he put me into an empty, cold, cement room and
restrained me to a metal
examination table.
There were bright lights overhead and the men that
joined him put bands around my
wrists, ankles, and
forehead, then turned out the lights and left while
they shocked me real bad. They
had a screen I had
to watch and messages I listened to immediately
after I got shocked. Sometimes Dick
carried a briefcase
that had some of my favorite dolls and toys inside,
like my dolly with the red hair and
freckles and my
sock monkey. When they hurt me they often pretended to
hurt my dolls and toys, too,
and told me that my
dolly friends would keep reminding me every day
about what happens, "if you don't
obey and follow the
rules -- then you get zapped," and they would shock
me again. Dick also threatened
me with his gun and
said that all the men had them, and if I "stepped
out of line" it would be over for me,
50
so I'd better
listen up and obey the rules. The doctors played tricks
on me while I was drugged. They
played day and time
tricks trying to mess me up. They told me over and
over that someone other than
the person who
really brought me there did. Most of the time I knew it
was Dick Hof. They told me this
astronaut brought
me and a man in an astronaut suit would walk in and
say, "I am the adult who brought
you here."
I'd say, "No you're
not, my neighbor did." So they would inject me with
more drugs and keep
hammering verbally
at me over and over until I'd break and agree
wholeheartedly with them. But inside
I had to remember
to keep the truth hidden in a part of me, so I'd not
lose control of reality and believe
their lies.
Sometimes I felt like I shattered and went over the edge
and couldn't really tell what was
happening. At those
moments I'd pray to God that another part of me was
remembering what was really
happening because I
couldn't maintain myself any longer. After they
were through with me I was so
messed up that I
needed their help getting off the table and then to
walk, and the next week I'd have to
stay home from
school because I was throwing up and very sick. My mom
said I just had "the flu." All
this torture and
mind manipulation kept my inner and outer worlds far
apart.
There was a cabinet
way up high in our kitchen and Dick Hof told me
that I could be like a
monkey and climb up
there to get the little white candy pills that
would make me feel better, but I
couldn't tell my
mommy because he said she wasn't really my mommy
because she was born of lower
class and he said I
was upper class, like my father. He said my mom
didn't know enough to help me, so if
I hurt I could
climb up and get the pills and eat them and feel better.
There was another
military base I was taken to when I was about five. A
doctor in a white lab coat
examined me there.
He questioned me a lot in order to check all my
"systems." As you can see, this
abuse was very
intentional and very premeditated, with long-range plans
and goals.
The Network of
Abuse Widens
The trauma was
ubiquitous and involved all the people who were close to
me, and others who
were strangers.
Threats of consequences if I remembered or told, made
during times of extreme trauma,
were buried deep in
my subconscious mind and dictated my actions daily.
Huge amounts of my own
subconscious vital
energies were used to keep my personalities in
control and to keep secret the activities
in which I was
involved.
By the age of four,
I was taken to my father's friend, Andy the
policeman, where I was instructed
to perform oral sex
on Andy, in exchange for a courtesy card my father
proudly carried in his wallet that
pardoned him from
any violation he might acquire, should he ever be
stopped by a police officer. At a
very young age, I
was subconsciously aware that everyone was in on
these activities and that policemen
wouldn't even
protect me, but that knowledge was kept from my conscious
awareness because I believed
the reality, as my
programming commanded, that I had a perfect life.
When I was less
than five years old, my father took me to Long Beach
for what my mother was
told was a visit to
my father's Aunt Maude. We did go to visit Aunt
Maude, but really we were there to
meet with Uncle
Charlie. Uncle Charlie was very distinguished looking
and wore very formal clothes,
even though this
was just a family gathering. At this young age,
although I sensed this was a very
important event, I
had no way of knowing how pivotal this meeting would
factor into the design of my
life. In a complete
nightmarish horror, I watched as my grown father
looked retarded and became very
childlike when this
relative, Charles Lilley Horn, spoke to him. And
when the talk turned to subjects I
could not fathom,
and Uncle Charlie held out a paper for my father to
sign, I pulled on my father's hand
and begged him,
"Daddy, stay big, this is really important, please
Daddy." But due to my father's own
early childhood
abuse, he could not maintain his adult mental state
because he, too, had Multiple
51
Personality
Disorder, with many wounded, fragmented, hurt children
inside of him whose
consciousness had
also been programmed for use by others. And so, when
Uncle Charlie asked him to
sign the paper, he
reached out robotically, and without thought, signed
it. Somehow I knew that this
event was a very
important moment when I needed my father to pull
himself together to protect me. But
he was not able to,
due to his own dysfunctional state of mind.
Uncle Charlie
further directed my father where to take me for the early
programming that
involved machines
and told him about the arrangement with Bob Hope and
the connection to the
government. My
father continued to look retarded and just kept
robotically shaking his head, nodding in
agreement, while
Charlie told him what to do.
Slave Auctions
Elitists in the
market for mind control slaves attend auctions that
appear at first like children's
fashion shows and
then progress to striptease acts. I made
"appearances" in many shows before I was
actually sponsored
or sold.
My father took me
to a slave "model" auction where I wore a fancy white
taffeta and black velvet
polka-dot dress, a
hat and matching purse that my mother had bought for
me at the expensive
Stardusters
clothing store.
Bob Hope
At this particular
show where Bob Hope bought me, there were lots and
lots of little girls and boys
competing. They
said these children were what they called "sponsored"
if they were chosen. And they
said it was better
to be chosen early because then the sponsors
(owners) could mold you the way they
wanted. There was a
modeling ramp where all of us children were
displayed. I modeled casual clothes,
then sophisticated
evening clothes, and then sensual/sexual attire and,
finally, appeared totally naked.
First I performed
Swan Lake Ballet in pink feathers for my casual and
wore black velvet for my formal
and my naked
performance was called "the tiger dance." I won first
place at this show and was sold to
Bob Hope on the
open market. They put a white cape around my naked body
and Bob came up and
stood with me while
everyone in the audience cheered. Somehow it seemed
like a sport for some of these
people to attend
auctions. Then I was seated again next to my father.
When the whole show was over,
an older man
dressed in a tuxedo came and escorted me to Bob Hope who
shook my hand and said, "Hi
ya, Honey. Do you
know who I am?"
"Yes, Mr. Hope." I
answered like I had been instructed.
"I'm going to be
your man, but we'll have to talk more about this later
... when you're a little
older." He laughed.
I smiled at him and
said, "Thank you, Mr. Hope. My father will be very
proud." But my father
never came over to
meet Bob. He stayed in his chair until the man in
the tux ushered me back to him.
Throughout my
formative years, I was molded to be extremely sexual
through the sexual abuse
with my father and
others. The personalities that were created from
that abuse didn't always experience
the encounters as
abusive, because that is all they knew. Bob later
told my father through an instilled
message delivered
through me during an incestual encounter with my
father, "Daddy, Bob says he wants
me to really love
sex and have a lot of it. Okay?"
"Sure honey,
whatever you want. You're the boss," my father answered
from his own split
consciousness.
Bob was Catholic
and so was the part of me that performed. She was my
"inner twin sister" for
programming
purposes, to keep that part of me separate from my created
"normal" reality and her name
was Sharon. Bob
said he liked Catholic girls because they were easy and
he liked "em like that."
Bob was always racy
until he got to acting old around 1987. I had a
lifetime of Bob Hope and his
antics, and over
the years, he lost his funny and happy persona and
became just a mean and nasty old
man. And then, he
became cruel to me, there wasn't anything fun left in
him. He was just real old and
mean.
52
Uncle Charlie
Consciously
unbeknownst to my parents, I was in contact when necessary
with my "Uncle
Charlie." He
escorted me to many affairs when I was a child, even in
Europe. Often they were arenas
where the mind
control elitists gathered to share their latest
creations. At these gatherings, I walked out
on a ramp on Uncle
Charlie's arm. I was the "latest in human
technology," and all the "uncles" were
there to display
their "wares." It was a fashion show of sorts for what
they called "children attendants."
Men in the audience
held little placards and they held up certain
numbers for different things. I think
they were like
judges. I don't think they wanted to buy me because
someone else already had. While I
was presenting, a
man announced I had already been sold to, "...a very
funny man they say, called Bob
Hope. Do you know
him?" And everyone in the audience laughed.
When I asked Uncle
Charlie why those people were there and what we were
doing there, he said,
"This is a show for
Cadillacs and you my dear," he took a hold of my
chin, "are my Cadillac."
"I am? What is
that?" I asked very enthusiastically, straightening my
blue satin dress and pushing
on the skirt that
kept popping up on the other side due to the hoop
around the bottom.
"A car," he
answered. When I kept asking questions he said that big
word others also used to
describe me, "My,
you are precocious, aren't you? Well it's time for
you to run along now," at which
point another man
in a suit took my hand and led me away.
Later that day when
we were alone, Uncle Charlie very secretly and with
great import informed
me that he was my
real father and that my dad wasn't my real father,
but had adopted me for some very
specific purposes.
He said it was my destiny, but I didn't know what
that word meant either, and didn't
ask because I was
still pretty upset about my dad not really being my
dad. Uncle Charlie said he had the
money to take care
of me in the ways I deserved and that my father
never would have the money to do
what he was going
to be able to do for me. I didn't understand what
this all meant then but he made it
sound good. (Forty
some years later through my constant search to piece
together the actualities of my
life, I would
discover that Charles L. Horn was the owner of Federal
Cartridge Company, which later
funded Olin
Foundation, where he sat as President.)
When I asked Uncle
Charlie who my mother was he just nodded quickly and
said, "You don't have
one, it doesn't
matter." He seemed busy like I was bothering him by
interrupting his thoughts or
something. I guess
he didn't understand the needs of a child my age. So
I went ahead and made up my
own imaginary
mother. I created her to be sort of plump and happy and
she made great apple pies and
cookies and all
sorts of candies that we ate anytime we wanted. She was
'the perfect mother' for
"Sharon."
So as I understood
it from the other side of my personality structure,
Charles L. Horn was
Sharon's -- my
inner twin sister's -- father. Uncle Charlie said he
wanted me to call him Uncle Charlie
instead of dad
because he had "... some very important business
contacts that just wouldn't understand if
you called me
father, so call me Uncle Charlie." Often he introduced me
to people as his niece, Sharon
Weatherby. Sharon,
the wild personality, is who Bob Hope purchased from
Uncle Charlie and it was
Sharon who was
trained to be stunning, smart, sexual, comfortable with
wealth and elite family
members. Uncle
Charlie, who lived in Minneapolis in the summers and
Scottsdale in the winters, said he
loved me but
couldn't spend a lot of time with me because of business,
though he would be a powerful
part of my life.
Uncle Charlie
physically introduced me to Henry Kissinger one day in an
open grassy park-like
area when I was
very little. I shook Henry's hand and Uncle Charlie
explained that Henry was my "Uncle
Henry." So I, as
Sharon Weatherby, began to have a whole new family and
it just kept growing and
growing, adding
"uncles" here and there and everywhere.
53
Henry Kissinger
When I was little,
with a short pixie haircut, Henry Kissinger would
call me on the phone at home.
In those days,
those personalities who were created by and for him
thought he was funny. He set up
times of connection
by telling me beforehand, "meet me on the comer at
7:00 p.m." and that meant to be
standing at the
direct corner of the kitchen cabinet desk at home at
7:00 p.m. to answer the phone. So
I'd stand there
when it was 7:00 p.m. and when he called I'd pick up
the phone real fast like he had
instructed me to
do. Henry, who communicated to me as "Susan" rather
than "Sharon," then said,
"Hello Susan, how
are you this evening? I am just testing."
"Oh, hi," I said as
I smiled and twisted my short hair.
"You can hang up
now, I was just testing." So, I hung up and went off
to play in my room. Henry
was in contact with
me often. I think he had studied lots of psychology
so he knew how to best control
me. He used
positive psychological means because he said he felt it
would work better.
My mom said, "Who
were you talking to?" She had on her red Christmas
dress and her slippers.
Her hair was still
brown.
I shrugged and
said, "No one," because due to the programming I was
already under, my normal
everyday conscious
personality didn't house the phone experience with
Henry Kissinger. I wasn't lying,
the event was
registered under a different personality than the one
that interfaced with my mother.
Henry could call
anytime and 'get me.' When I saw him in person he
always said right off, in a silly
teasing voice as he
reached out and tickled me, "I'm gonna get you."
Which switched me to the
personality he
wanted and in that way he accessed, or "got me."
Henry set up a
group of personalities to be my neighbor's, "Joe's and
Mary's child." He told
people it was an
experiment he was performing to see if one person
could be brought up in two ways
from two different
perspectives to see how the physical/genetic
influences really did work since both
personalities'
mindsets shared the same physical body and genetic
structure. It was a controlled
experiment about
the role environment and behavior versus genetics
played in IQ. They wanted to see
how strong the mind
could be - if it was the overriding factor. They
were trying to see if thinking you
were elite and
being brought up elite would increase IQ or if a common
child would have the same IQ if
not stimulated as
much. Susan was the common experience part of the
experiment, the control; and
Sharon, the inner
twin personality counterpart, was the elite. More on
this twin programming in the
next chapter
I was instructed by
Henry Kissinger to eat alphabet cereal on certain
mornings and do mental
exercises that he
gave me. For instance, I had to get the alphabet
sorted from the box and all lined up on
the kitchen table.
Then I had to put a piece of cereal that was shaped
into an 'a' on my tongue and then
hold up a mirror
and look at it in the mirror. I had to do 20 of the
alphabet backwards and 20 of the
alphabet forward
while I was looking in the mirror. It was usually only
20 because often some letters
were missing from
the cereal box, so Henry said to just do 20. I don't
know why I had to put them on my
tongue and then
stick my tongue out with the letter on it and look in
the mirror, but I did it just like
Henry said. My
mother got mad at me because she said I should eat my
food not play with it, but she
didn't understand
my need for training. Henry said she was uneducated
and ignorant, and that he was
making me into a
genius. I didn't know what that meant. Other times, I
had to focus my eyes on a pin
that was stuck into
the top of a pencil eraser and follow it back and
forth and up and down. And I
learned to cross
one eye. leaving my left eye looking straight ahead.
All this was done in preparation for
my later use as
Henry's 'mind file'.
Further Condition
Following
instructions, my mother took me to "meetings" at a church
lady's home who lived
behind our church.
The purpose of these meetings was to instruct my
mother how to "train me." She
54
was given
instructions on forms of punishments and abuses to give me at
home if I didn't do what was
"prescribed." Those
punishments included being locked in a dark closet
for long periods of time, having
food withheld
sometimes for a day or two, being slapped across the face
or burned by a cigarette if I
resisted any of the
rules. Often I was abused in these ways, as my
mother carried out her own
programmed
instructions, in spite of my "good behavior."
I was taught to
write backwards at the age of four because my
programmers felt that I would be
more intelligent if
I was forced to use both sides of my brain. In
addition, I was given special eye
exercises to
perform several times a day. I began ballet at five and
endured years of ballet training from
a perverted ballet
teacher named Madame Olga. Episodes of sex rituals
and traumas were laced into our
dance classes. At
times the entire ballet class was abused out behind
her little dance school that was
located just off
Topanga Canyon Boulevard in Woodland Hills.
My dentists, the
Phillips brothers, had a dental office also located on
Topanga Canyon Boulevard,
around the corner
from my ballet school. Acting independently of the
church, but being friends of my
father, they
participated in my "preparation" by torturing me with
sharp dental instruments by drilling
my teeth and poking
exposed nerves without the use of Novocain. Who
could have known then that,
when I grew up and
married, my "chosen" husband would be first "in
line" to purchase these successful
dental practices,
which is just what happened.
After I started
kindergarten, my mother informed me that a group of
people from the First Baptist
Church were going
to leave the church and form a new church called the
First Presbyterian Church of
Woodland Hills. In
the beginning days, the church met at my elementary
school, while we waited for our
new church to be
built on Platt Avenue. Our new minister's name was
Rev. Alden McKelvey, and
nothing seemed to
change much, except the minister had a different
name, we had a bigger building, and
now more people
were involved.
School was somewhat
of a respite, but even there I was not always free
from abuse. Starting in
first grade, I was
taken out of my class at Woodlake Avenue Elementary
School (located a mile from the
church), to attend
'choir practice' at the children's choir director's
home a block from school. Her name
was Mrs. Rebecca
Muir. At her home, in conjunction with practicing
church songs for performances at
Sunday church
services, I was trained to perform and participate in
rituals and was forced to participate
in child
pornography films when a group of men entered her house and
took over. Snuff pornography
where little
children or babies were killed was also filmed at her
house. Like the other women involved,
Mrs. Muir,
publicly, a meek, gentle woman, dutifully complied with the
direction of these men.
One day just after
returning to school from Mrs. Muir's house, I went
straight to the principal's
office. Her name
was Mrs. Stella Greer. For some unknown reason, the
threats of death if I told were
not consciously
available to keep me silenced and switched out of the
personality who had just witnessed
the pornography,
and I told her everything I had been forced to do at
choir practice. I had seen Mrs.
Greer talk sternly
to us kids at assemblies and just knew that she was
a person of great power who would
be able to stop the
bad people from hurting all of us children. But,
her response was enough to reinforce
everything my
abusers had threatened over my young years. I will never
forget it. Mrs. Greer's face
turned red with
anger as she wrathfully shook her finger at me, sternly
warning in no uncertain terms,
"Young lady, I
don't ever want to hear such filth out of your mouth
again. You stop making up these
horror stories and
get back into your classroom where you belong!"
At that moment, I
realized that what my abusers said was true. No one
would help me. People
would think I was
crazy if I did tell, and I had "no where to run, and
no where to hide." I couldn't survive
without them and
there was no one to help, just like they said. I was
trapped. Why this adult woman,
my school
principal, was unable to logically question how a child of my
young age could be privy to or
know such adult and
pornographic language, never seemed to cross her
mind.
55
Our pediatrician,
Dr. Cusack, located on Ventura Boulevard in Woodland
Hills, participated by
suturing up my
vagina when it was torn from abuse, and cared for me in
other ways when the abuse
became too
physically obvious. When I requested my childhood medical
records several years ago, I was
told that Dr.
Cusack had moved out of the state and that all of his
records had been destroyed.
At home in the
evenings, while my mother was picking up my grandmother
from work at
Lockheed in Santa
Monica, and in the middle of the night, my father
continued his own form of tortures;
raping me,
sodomizing me, filming me pornographically with my brother,
submerging me in the bathtub
or swimming pool
until I was nearly dead, torturing me extensively at
his welding shop with the use of
electroshock
delivered through hot welding equipment inserted into my
vagina, and leaving me outside
all night alone
during rain storms. He also kept dead bodies under our
home for his sick perversions.
He tortured and
"trained" me under the house lots of nights before
dinner, and would lock me into boxes
and leave me there
for long periods of time, often with body parts from
cadavers he kept. One night he
took me to a
graveyard and forced me to watch as he dug up a coffin,
opened it, forced me inside and
reburied it. I
split off more personalities. One personality split
wasn't enough to handle this trauma.
One Saturday my
father took me and one of my dolls out to the old
refrigerator that was in the
corner of our
garage. Quickly, he shoved me inside and clutching my
blond baby doll, I begged,
frantically
clinging to my father's shirt, "No Daddy! Please don't."
Slapping my hands
away, my father scolded, "Now, show Daddy what a big
girl you can be. If you
try to get out," he
knelt down beside me, "Daddy will have to beat
you." He slammed the door shut and I
could hear him
taping it closed with the black electrical tape he used
on endless mechanical things.
When I cried out
from inside the cold refrigerator, my father angrily
pounded on the door, yelling for me
to shut up.
Petrified in the
dark, cramped cubicle, I listened for any sound that
might indicate that my father
was opening the
door to set me free. Ominous silence prevailed. Feeling
unbearably cold and unable to
take another
breath, I experienced the intervention of three ethereal
beings, transparent yet sparkly,
misty-blue colored
angels who suddenly materialized outside the
refrigerator and appeared to reach
through the
insulated metal to infuse me with life-sustaining energy.
In a transcendent state, it was as if
I was held in
suspended animation as these angels lent their life
energy to me.
Some time later,
when my father came to release me, probably thinking
that, like all the other
times he had taken
me near death, I would emerge fragmented yet
grateful to him for saving me, he
checked the pulse
on my neck, and finding none, he panicked. He carried
my limp body across the
garage and laid me
on his workbench. "Now I've done it, damn it," I
heard my father say to himself from
my out-of-body
vantage point. "I've gone too far and killed her, now
what am I going to do?" Quickly he
slid my lifeless
body into a black plastic trash bag, tied it off,
carried me out the side door, and placed me
in the crawl space
beneath the house.
The rescuing angels
reappeared and one telepathically communicated that
it wasn't time for me to
leave my family,
that I needed to get back into my body and go on up
for dinner. Unbeknownst to my
father, I still had
a spark of life left in me, and God, knowing His
plan for my life was not yet complete,
fanned that spark
until I came back to life. When I reunited with my
body, it ached and I felt
nightmarishly sick
but crawled out of the bag, wobbled out of the crawl
space and walked in a dissociated
state, back into
the house where my family sat eating dinner. My father
looked up at me as if he had seen
a ghost and my
mother, unaware of any of the "incidences" of the day,
smiled and told me to sit down to
eat.
The trauma and
torture was endless, occurring nearly every day and
night of my childhood. The
tortures were so
numerous that it would require a separate volume to
chronicle all those I have
56
remembered so far.
Leaving my body in order to 'dissociate' from the
pain and continuing to create
separate
personalities, often alongside personalities my abusers
intentionally created for their own use,
was my mind's way
of keeping me alive to function in the day-to-day
world.
I had two worlds:
one secret world that I lived and knew only when I
was triggered into it; and a second,
'normal' conscious
world of day to day experiences. These worlds were
kept separate by the use of
trauma and
programming. I was my father's and other people's project
for the future. An investment
that provided him
access to high-tech hypnotic information, financial
security, and most probably
immunity from
prosecution for charges involving pedophilia, child
prostitution, and child pornography.
"He shall give His
Angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy
ways. They shall bear thee up in their
hands, lest thou
dash thy foot against a stone." -- Psalms 91:11-12
57
Brice Taylor -
Thanks for the Memories
Chapter Three:
We’re Off to See the Wizard
Common Mind Control
Themes
Hand signals are a
common mode of control for victims of ritual abuse
and mind control. There
was a hand signal
program I was taught when I was very little, that was
sung to the song Frere Jacques,
with the nursery
rhyme, Where Is Pointer? The common song/game is
played by singing; "Where is
Pointer? Where is
pointer?" And then you put up your pointer finger and
say, "Here I am, Here I am.
How are you, today
sir? Very well, I thank you ...run away, run
away..." Then you put your hands behind
your back. I was
taught the version:
"Where is
silencer?" With a finger held up to the lips commanding
silence.
"Where is kingpin?"
With large pin inside the middle finger, that I was
poked with just before
singing, "run away,
run away."
"Where is little
man?" Holding up a pinky finger while singing, "Little
man can't run away."
"Where is
thumbkin?" Holding up a thumb and being thumped on the head
while singing, "You
can't run away."
Wizard of Oz
In conjunction with
the traumas at church and school, my father
reinforced my programming
with the use of
fairy tales, among them Disney themes and The Wizard of
Oz. I watched the Wizard of Oz
every year and at
other times my programmers laced in other programs
and hypnotic commands in a
creative way that
allowed the movie themes to keep me under control.
Although I could not consciously
remember what I was
programmed to forget, this use of fantasy, used in
an effort to keep amnestic and
to scramble what I
had actually participated in, was very effective
...almost foolproof.
Sometimes in the
middle of the night, after having watched the Wizard
of Oz, my father would
traumatize me in
order to cause me to dissociate, which created the
perfect trance state for
programming. In
this altered state, he would tell me that "over the
rainbow" was a bridge to the "other"
world, and that I
could walk over the rainbow bridge into the other
world and it would remain separate
from my everyday
world. He told me that what happened over the rainbow
would feel unreal, like a
dream. After
encounters that I was supposed to forget, I was
conditioned to the word "home." It began
with "There's no
place like home" being associated with being back in
my bed, sleeping, after a night of
being used in child
pornography or prostitution.
Later my mother,
father, or others would say these words after my use
in Washington, D.C. in the
White House or
other places I was sent under program. For years these
words functioned as a way to
reorient me back
into my everyday world, without carrying back with me
the reality of what had
happened. I was
instructed to, "sleep and wake up at home in my bed
with the Land of Oz so very far
away. That place
that felt like a fairy tale ...that I must have made
up ...was only a dream ...was now very
far away." I was
now on the other side of the rainbow and was
conditioned to believe that those
experiences never
really happened, that they were only a dream. Later
in my teen years all it took was for
my mother or father
to say, "Honey, you can sleep all the way home,"
and I was conditioned like Pavlov's
dogs to respond to
the word "home" with total and complete amnesia of
what had just happened to me.
If my subconscious
mind threatened to divulge the secrets, my father
programmed me to "wake
and eat chocolate
chip cookies to remember to forget." And for years,
the next 40 years, as this powerful
programming
commanded, I awoke out of a sound sleep if memory of this
secret world seeped up as I
58
entered first theta
and then delta brain wave sleep patterns. Following
program, I robotically walked
into the kitchen to
eat chocolate chip cookies in order to "re-mind"
myself.
Another Oz theme
that was used to program me was the song, "If I Only
Had A Brain." During a
programming
session, a man whispered in my ear, telling me, "It's safer
not to have a brain, it's easier
not to have a
brain; all you have to do to stay on track is to follow
the yellow brick road. Then you won't
be scared like the
cowardly lion and you can keep your heart which you
will need to get you down the
yellow brick road
to the land of glitter and gold, glitter and gold,
glitter and gold. Follow the yellow brick
road to somewhere
over the rainbow way up high." In my trance state,
this verse went deeply into my
subconscious mind
and was an evervigilant internal reference to remind
me to forget, and could be
enforced by any of
my controllers when the need arose to keep me from
unlocking repressed memory.
Alice in Wonderland
was used as a theme to program in 'time awareness.'
My programmers said,
"See the rabbit who
says, 'watch the watch, watch the watch,' and feel
your eyes grow sleepy and tired so
you can no longer
watch the watch but you know it is always there
ticking away, keeping perfect time. It
knows what time it
is so you won't ever have to worry about what time
it is for the watch will keep perfect
time. And now at
the count of three I want you to wake up ...1, 2,
3..." he snapped his fingers, "and
awake. Good girl!"
There were other
programs based on fairy tales and Disney themes. Other
survivors around the
world have also
reported many of these same common themes.
Disneyland
When I was five
years old my mother and father took me to the
newly-opened Disneyland in
Anaheim,
California. As we walked down Main Street, we ran into Walt
Disney and my father stood aside
as Walt Disney,
larger than life to me, bent down and shook my hand. He
told me that if I would write to
him he would write
back to me. I didn't consciously remember anything
else after that. What happened
next, though, as I
later recalled, was that Walt Disney looked at my
father with eyes that said important
things I couldn't
understand. My father then led my mother in the other
direction and I was left alone
with Walt Disney.
My parents never said goodbye or anything, they just
left me and walked away. I was
terrified and
confused at realizing that my parents just disappeared.
Walt took me to an office, lifted me
up on a big desk
that had a glass piece on top and told me that he was
my real father. He said the Mickey
Mouse Club was my
real family--where I really belonged. Everyone was
always telling me I belonged to a
different family
than my parents and I didn't understand, it was all
very confusing. Walt Disney seemed
nice but I wasn't
with him very long. He called another man in and that
man took me by the hand and
led me away. This
man was a very bad man and he really scared me. He
took me into another room and
gave me those
viewmaster box glasses to look into. He showed me
pictures in them that were so scary
that other parts of
me had to come to see them. It was too much for a
little girl to see. Dead things--cut
up bodies, dead
cats skinned with big eyeballs and their tails cut off,
people cut up, etc. We had that toy
at home but mine
had cartoon pictures in it. This event involved
several of my personalities.
Next, the man took
me to scary rides and poked me with needles in my
waist and legs while he
said things during
the Alice in Wonderland ride, like, "This is not
really happening. I am not really
sticking this
needle in your leg. You are just like Alice. You also ate
the large mushroom and feel funny--
this is not real."
He kept laughing and acting like all this was fun
and games and really amusing, but it
was terrifying and
confusing to me, and I couldn't understand why he
was hurting me. Parts of me split
off as they
withstood the abuse and I pushed the experiences deep into
my subconscious mind as my
programming
dictated.
Then the man took
me to Mr. Toad's Wild Ride and sexually abused me by
taking off my panties
and pushing me up
and down on top of his penis while we were going
through the dark, enclosed ride.
During many years
that followed, I got hurt on Mr. Toad's ride. I was
instructed to be extra sexy and wild
59
and crazy in order
to be "good" and not get hurt. If I did it right and
performed on cue, then I didn't
get hurt when it
was over. When we came out into the light from the
darkened ride, it was over and if I
did it right I
could stop and go back to my Mommy. If I did it wrong, I
had to do it all over again until I
did it right. They
always hurt me real bad if I made a mistake. I tried
my best. It seemed like I had to stay
at Disneyland for a
long time, but at the end of the long day, I got to
have a pretty balloon that I looked at
as I laid in the
back seat of the car all the way home. I was
devastated, exhausted and out of it during the
ride back to
Woodland Hills, but looked up at the pretty Mickey Mouse
ears balloon or the Mickey Mouse
balloon within a
balloon, before I finally fell into a long deep sleep.
We went to
Disneyland yearly, often for birthday celebrations. On
another visit, a suited man
escorted me to the
front of the Snow White ride. As he guided me on
board the boat, he flashed a badge
to the attendant
and explained that he had special permission to take
this special guest on the ride. We
entered a boat and
rode through the canals while he refrained the fairy
tale themes. As we passed them
by, he stuck
needles in my thighs at different times after he finished
a line about a story. All the classic
fairy tales drifted
in front of us--the Three Pigs and the Big Bad
Wolf. He told me that the big bad wolf
could always find
me and get me, even if I was in the well-built brick
house, and that the wolf could huff
and puff and blow
my house down. He told me my parents couldn't protect
me from the wolf either
because he was big
and bad and wild. I can still hear the Big Bad Wolf
song playing. The man kept
poking me with the
needle and it hurt. I kept watching his hand with
the needle trying to anticipate the
pain and he kept
telling me the scary stories. I didn't know what to do
and couldn't get away because we
were in a boat and
I couldn't get off. Then he almost choked me to
death in the front of the boat but kept
talking and telling
me the fairy tales, as if nothing had ever
happened. I was terrified.
Later on, in the
dark of the night a man in a suit took me on the
Matterhorn and stopped the
rollercoaster ride
at the waterfall where he told me everything that
happened was washed away and gone
forever. He made me
get off the ride and stand on the rocks high up
inside the Matterhorn all alone in
the dark that
night. I was really tired. He said they were leaving me
there alone because I didn't do it
right and I didn't
listen well. I was terrified in the dark, wet, rocky
area that was whooshing with the
sound of the wind
and cars from the ride speeding by. But it got even
scarier when the area fell silent.
Cold and tired, I
was left totally alone for what seemed to my child
self like forever. When the man finally
came to get me, he
asked if I was ready to be good. Then he said a lot
of words while he carried me to my
parents. Handing
me, all limp and wet, over to my mother, he said,
"She's asleep." My mother was
crying, my father
was smiling and the man in the suit said, "It's been
done, she's now ready for the next
level."
My father carried
me out of Disneyland but stopped to buy me a Mickey
Mouse balloon to look at,
to, as he said,
"remember the good time you had." Disneyland was never
really fun; there was always
pain and torture.
Another night at
Disneyland I climbed the steps to the Swiss Family
Robinson Tree House. Once
inside one of the
rooms a man grabbed me, slapped my face really hard
and flashed a bright light in my
eyes. He said,
"Your mother is not your real mother, your father is not
your real father. You are made of
much greater
things, so great in fact that Walt Disney would claim you
for his own. So remember what
I've said about who
your real parents are." When he was finished with
me I climbed down from the
treehouse, sobbing
hysterically with each and every step. My mother was
waiting for me at the bottom
and took me over to
the Fritos snack stand to try to get me calmed down.
It's A Small World
ride was purposefully used to create the reality in
my mind that I was really
just on a ride at
Disneyland when later I was taken to foreign
countries for use. The programming that
blossomed up into
my conscious mind after such travel was that I was
merely at Disneyland. One day my
father accompanied
me into the international phone display. I picked up
many of the colored phones and
listened to the
different languages and my mom stood close by while my
father appeared to walk away.
60
But my father
really hid behind the phone display and talked like he
was sending a message through
the phone.
Initially, I thought it was someone else talking to me
through the phone, someone who
mysteriously knew
my name. When I caught on that it was my father, I
knew better than to let on and
continued with the
charade. Soon a man in a Disney uniform came and
linked arm in arm with me like
the characters do
in the Wizard of Oz, and escorted me over to the main
headquarters near the dog
kennels.
On another trip, I
was taken on the Jungleboat ride at Disneyland at
night. It was very dark and I
noticed that no one
was in line as my parents guided me through the
area where people normally waited
to enter the ride.
We were all alone and I was terrified, anticipating
what was to occur next. I had learned
early on, and knew
at a very deep subconscious level that my parents
were of no protection to me;
instead they were
often the very ones that delivered me to very
terrifying people, experiences and places.
This night was no
different. I was taken to the very back of the boat
and a man in a dark suit emerged,
and said, "I will
take it from here," at which point my father took my
mother by the elbow and escorted
her robotically
away. I was afraid.
"Laura," the man
called out. Laura was my school personality who was
programmed to be
cooperative and
helpful. He said, "Laura, I need your help so that
things run very smoothly tonight."
"Yes, sir." I
replied, now switched to Laura.
"I want you to turn
around 7 times and I will be tying a rope around
your waist so we don't lose
you here tonight."
I couldn't imagine
how I was about to get lost on this big boat, but I
complied as he tied the rope
around my waist and
as commanded, I began turning as he counted, "One,
two, buckle my shoe, no,
three, four, shut
the door. The door to your mind, that is, five, six,
pick up sticks, and ...seven will do the
trick." I didn't
know what the trick was but I was soon to find out.
"Here, now you just sit down right
here," as he
pointed to a place at the back of the boat, while he held
onto me with the rope like I was a
dog on a leash.
Before I knew exactly what was happening he lifted me
up and plunged me into that cold,
dark water. As I
hit the water, I was sure that the alligators that I'd
seen earlier that day on the Jungle
Cruise were going
to get me and eat me alive in the dark. The boat was
going and I was being dragged
behind it. I held
onto the rope so that I could stay facing forward.
Reminding me of the Wizard of Oz
programming theme,
the man yelled, "Lions and tigers and bears, oh my."
Then pointing into the dark
water near me, he
tapped into the Peter Pan theme I was also programmed
with as he anxiously warned,
"I believe there's
an alligator there on your left, no I mean on your
right, right there behind you, he's
swimming right up
behind you on your other left." I was frantically
panicked; and in an attempt to make
it all go away I
squeezed my eyes as tightly shut as I could, and held
onto the rope for dear life.
"You're a very
strong little girl," he called out, "just like your
father told me you were. You know,
the survival of the
fittest." Then he began to reel me back in and
lifted me up by the rope as I climbed
over the railing to
get back on the boat. "You passed that test with
flying colors! Your father said that this
test would be easy
for you."
I felt numb and my
teeth were chattering from the cold. My dress was
all wet and so were my
shoes and socks and
panties. I was freezing. My father always did talk
to me about the 'survival of the
fittest' and how I
would be strong.
"You could fly like
Tinkerbell does, across the sky at night attached
to this rope like you are.
Should I leave it
on so that you can fly with Tinkerbell tonight, high
up in the sky?"
"No, sir," I
replied looking down at the rope and shivering.
He laughed real
loudly. "You know that you fly with her every time you
see her fly; you fly high,
high away from all
the things you think you remember here, but none of
those things really happen; they
are all just
figments of your imagination. Do you know what figments
are?"
I shook my head no.
"Figments are fruit
that you eat. And you have enjoyed all the rides
here tonight and had a lot of
fun and now it is
almost time for you to go home. You know, like Mickey
says in the song, "Now it's time
61
to say good-bye to
all our company, M. 1. C. K. E. Y. M. O. U. S. E.;
you know the song on TV, the one
that you hear when
you watch the Mickey Mouse Club?
"Yes," I said, now
in total hypnotic, robotical program.
"When you see
Tinkerbell and all the beautiful fireworks here tonight,
you will remember the
good and only the
good things that happened here today and tonight. All
the good will float up into your
conscious mind just
like Tinkerbell flies high in the sky, so will all
the good things [that happened] fly
high up into your
conscious mind. You have had the best day here at
Disneyland and want to return as
soon as you can for
more fun."
In a complete
hysterical panic, my mother rushed up and threw her arms
around me as if she was
rescuing me. She
threw some sort of dark cloth over me, and she and my
father took me off the boat. She
took me into a
bathroom to change clothes near the Jungleboat ride. My
mother ushered me into a stall
and began changing
my clothes without closing the door behind us. I was
embarrassed. A lady came into
the restroom and my
mom said to her, "My daughter fell into the water
and we are changing her clothes."
No wonder it has
been difficult, at times, for me to trust my own
awareness, even as an adult.
One night, my
programmers decided I was to actually replace the real
Tinkerbell in flight over the
park at night in
the dark. The men in park uniforms walked up behind
the real Tinkerbell who was
actually an older
lady and this night she was in costume, ready to fly.
The men told her to step aside, that
I was going to fly
that night. I didn't know where my mom and dad went
and I was cold and scared. The
woman was very
angry. She wanted to do her job and yelled at the men
but they told her just to relax,
that she would
still get paid and that no one would have to know she
didn't fly and she could go home
early and still
collect her paycheck. Still angry she left and the men
dressed me in a white Tinkerbell
costume and
strapped me into the flight harness. After I was secured, a
man asked me if I was ready. He
showed me where to
hold onto the front straps so I wouldn't get my
hands or arms ripped off while I was
flying high above
the Magic Kingdom. The whole experience was
terrifying. They must have given me a
drug because
everything appeared to be in lots of pictures like a
camera with a whole circle of lenses of
the same picture,
like a kaleidoscope. As I flew, I felt afraid that I
would fall out and splat below on
everyone, but after
a little while I became numb. I could no longer
think or feel. I must have fainted
because when I got
to the other end of the sky ride, a few men removed
the harness and tried to get me to
come to. One man
slapped me but that didn't even wake me up, then
someone else put smelling salts
under my nose and I
woke up. I don't remember much else except I
couldn't walk very well and had to be
carried out of
Disneyland. That night there were no stops on Main
Street to get toys or a balloon or
candy. I felt sick
and laid in the back of our old Buick until we got
home. My brothers didn't go with us, it
was just my mom and
dad and me. My father said I was the 'star' of the
family. I didn't like being the star
if that's how it
was, but he seemed very excited about it.
Twin Sister
Programming
My neighbors, my
"second mother" Mary and her daughter Peggy, took me
to a Hollywood theatre
to watch The Parent
Trap, a 1961 Disney Movie starring Hayley Mills.
The theme of this movie helped to
shape the reality
of my inner "twin sister," Sharon. I was Susan and my
twin sister was Sharon. This
Sharon personality
was created in an attempt to further split my mind
and was anchored within my
personality
structure in order to house a vast reservoir of experiences
with the elite. Sharon was to
identify herself
with "high society."
Now of course, my
inner twin sister Sharon also had to have programming
experiences at
Disneyland. To
accomplish that our neighbor Mary took me to Disneyland
with her daughter Peggy, who
was my age. At one
point we visited the beautiful Magic Castle that is
located in the middle of the Magic
Kingdom. As I
walked through the Castle, exploring the area, I rounded
a corner and as I stepped into a
darkened area, a
man in a black cape that had been hiding in a dark
corner of the castle stepped forward
and grabbed me. He
put his hand over my mouth so I wouldn't scream and
he elbowed me in the
62
stomach before he
raped me. Then he took me in the direction of the dog
kennels in the front of
Disneyland where
other bad things happened. Every year, Sharon had to
watch the "President Show with
Lincoln" that
played in a theatre on Main Street and in order to keep
her secret experiences hidden from
her conscious mind,
this twin sister part of me also had to be exposed
to many of the same kinds of
trauma.
Sharon was created
to be Catholic, and Mary and Peggy often took me
with them to Catholic mass.
(They didn't know
about my connection to Henry Kissinger.) I was taught
about Holy Water and
genuflecting and
the Stations of the Cross and Confession and Hail
Marys and saying the Rosary. Peggy
let me borrow her
rosary beads that had a little blue enamel picture of
the Blessed Mary on it. I learned
to say, "Hail Mary
full of grace the Lord is with thee," over and over
again for each bead. We always had
to wear a hat or a
scarf. They had a lot of rules you had to follow.
Had to get that Holy Water and dab it
on yourself at your
Stations of the Cross; forehead, heart then each
shoulder, before you genuflected
upon entering the
pews. Then we knelt down and said the Rosary for a
very long time. With my childlike
consciousness, I
thought it was a dumb thing to do and kept asking
everyone why we had to say that and
what it would do,
but all everyone ever said was that I asked too many
questions. During the many times
I attended mass
with Mary and Peggy, I silently prayed to the statue of
the Blessed Virgin and asked her
to help me,
although I was unable to "think" about why I needed help.
Sharon was a "child
of the elite" and later on, serviced the elite,
such as the Rockefellers. She was
often the
sexually-oriented personality when I was used for sex and
mind file work. "Sharon" was my
highly sexual
counterpart and "Sue" contained the messages in mind
files.
To further my split
conditioning, there was a small stone building in a
cemetery where the men in
suits locked me in
for the whole night. They took my clothes away from
me, pushed me into the dark
room and closed the
door. It was cold on the concrete floor and I could
feel spider webs in the corners. It
was scary, so I
just sat down on my feet in the corner, hugged my legs
to my body and closed my eyes.
After awhile, an
angel appeared. She said her name was Maria and that I
was being prepared for
the future. She
said that she and other angels would help me and I
would be "sustained." I didn't know
what that word
meant but felt like it was okay because I felt so much
love from her. While my spirit self
was sitting next to
her on a bench, my physical body was still in that
concrete room. She told me she
would be very close
to me later when I was older and could understand
more. She explained that these
people were unkind
because they didn't understand, but that my angel
friends loved me very much and
would be there
whenever I needed them. All of a sudden, before I was
ready to leave her, I was back in
the cold concrete
cubicle, still sitting squatted on my feet and she
was gone. I felt like I had traveled
somewhere and I
wanted to go back there because it didn't hurt and
wasn't cold there, but I couldn't
figure out how to
get there. I had to wait for the angel to escort me.
Everyone was always escorting me
everywhere--on
earth and in heaven. When the men came to let me out, it
was still dark and they
dropped me off at
home. Entering the breezeway, I went through the back
door, into my room and went
to sleep.
The Golden Arches
Now of course, in
order to insure that Sharon's memory was kept
separate from my conscious
mind, trauma had to
be induced to create the dissociative barrier.
Among other traumas, I was taken to
St. Mel's Catholic
Church in Woodland Hills and was molested by a short
fat "Father," at the back of the
church in a side
room. This priest who spoke with an Irish accent and
smelled like alcohol, pulled my
hair while he
sexually satisfied himself in my mouth. When he was
finished with me, two men in suits
escorted me to an
awaiting limousine. I had short hair and wore a felt
poodle skirt, flats, white socks and
a white blouse. It
wasn't unusual to see limousines lined up in front
of this large Catholic church for use
at funerals or
weddings. It was nearing dark and once out of sight of
the public, these men were very
rough with me. They
threw me into the back seat and once inside the
limo I laid on the seat in a fetal
position, rocking
myself, terrified out of my mind.
63
Arriving at the new
McDonald's, one man told me, "Look at the Golden
Arches, they are your
Highway to Heaven.
Whenever you enter to cross over, you won't remember
having been here." I went in
as Sue and after I
was drugged I came out as Sharon. I had no awareness
that Sharon was me. In my
internal,
subconsciously created reality, I believed Sharon to be my
physically separate, twin sister, but
consciously I had
no knowledge of any other part of me except Sue. All
I knew was there were lots of
times when I was
told that I would be allowed to see my twin sister, my
secret twin sister. I felt sad. I
missed her
desperately and I felt that she was always in danger and
needed me. The man who was
present to create
this part of my programming was a very affluent and
locally well-known and respected
Catholic OB/GYN
doctor, named Dr. McGinnis. He told me that I could
find my twin sister in the
bathroom, so I ran
there to find Sharon. The doctor and another man
followed me as I ran into the small
one room bathroom
that I entered from outside McDonald's, in tears
desperate to find my twin sister.
Once inside, as
directed, I looked around and came out and told the
doctor that he could come inside,
that there was no
one else there. I felt very robotic. Entering the
small bathroom with me, he locked the
door behind us and
told me to sit on the floor in the corner of the
stall. I did as he instructed. He took my
arm and put it up
on the toilet lid, slipped a rubber cuff around my
arm and got a big needle out. As he
injected the drug
into my arm he commanded, "count backwards from
three."
"One..." I started.
"NO!" The doctor
yelled angrily. "I said backwards, starting from
three."
"Three, two," I
slumped over and passed out.
He began slapping
my face and I couldn't wake up but he called out,
"Sharon, Sharon, Sharon."
Finally after lots
of slapping, Sharon said, "Yes."
"Get up and walk
out to the car." The doctor commanded. Sharon obeyed.
He carried his
black doctor's bag and we took off as soon as he got
into the limo. I overheard him
say to the driver
that if he ever got caught he would just take his
black bag and say he was on an
emergency, that way
no one would ever question him.
We drove down
Ventura Boulevard to a jewelry store. The doctor and I
went in, myself still
switched to my twin
sister Sharon. He told the store owner I was
looking for a present for my mother,
but I wasn't
really. These people always told lies. He put a diamond
bracelet on my arm and said, "You're
used to jewels,
remember?"
"Yes," I said,
smiling. It was true that Sharon was used to riches.
"That is all you
need to remember, that you're used to jewels." As we
turned to leave, he called out
to the owner at the
other end of the store to say that we were finished
shopping.
Next, I was dropped
off at a big house somewhere and taken downstairs
to be filmed in child
pornography. There
were men in leathers and chains with guns. A man
ripped my clothes off and
sodomized me while
another guy watched as it was filmed. Then I was
chained up, whipped and filmed
more. They liked it
when I cried out. They said I had to, in order to
make a good film, but I really wanted
to be quiet and
keep all to myself so it would ruin the film. They put
a baby on a wooden table and killed
her while I was
being raped and they said her lifeblood was filling me
and that I liked taking the baby's
life into me. I
didn't really. I didn't want them to hurt the baby,
ever. But I had to smile and laugh while
they filmed it or
they said I would be killed, also. They made these
snuff films often with babies or little
girls. "The
younger, the purer," the men said. They believed fetuses
were the best to get the purest
untouched
lifeblood. They often ingested the flesh afterwards, and
sometimes the heart, while it was still
beating. It was
terrifying, vile and disgusting. And they fed it to me
for the filming. I was always forced to
smile.
After it was all
over I was taken by limo back to McDonald's, into the
same bathroom where some
man snapped his
fingers in front of my face and said, "Susie, you've
fainted," which, by calling out that
name, switched me
back into my conscious personality. Once revived,
these men drove me to my street,
dropped me off and
told me to walk the highway to heaven into sleep. In
program trance, I walked the
short block home,
went through the breezeway into the back door, and
climbed into my bed. It was dark
outside but the
yellow porch light was on and I knew my way through the
house with my eyes closed.
64
That night, alone
in my bed, I said the prayer I usually said with my
mother or my grandmother
each and every
night, "Angel of God, my guardian dear, to whom His Love
commits me here. Ever this
day be at my side.
To light and guard, to rule and guide."
I beg of you, dear
reader, to be open to the possibility that these
sorts of atrocities did happen, and
that they are still
happening to other children today, even right now
at this very moment. Please open
your heart and know
that this could be true so together we can all put
a stop to the abuse that terrifies
and threatens to
destroy the children.
McDonald's was
often a part of my abuse whether I was in California or
later away from home
when after use in
different states or countries, they took me to "The
Golden Arches" and
26
gave me coke (later
aspartame-infused diet coke with a twist of lemon)
and french fries. McDonald's was
a very powerful
program for repressing events of national and
international usage.
The Foundation is
Built
By the tender age
of five, 1 was conditioned through torture and high
tech hypnotic tect and
electroshock, to
hurt myself in many ways should I begin to remember
the secret activities, was a part of.
Per programmed
suggestion, if I began to remember I would stub my big
toe c burn myself on the stove,
thereby removing my
focus from the remembered secret experienck and
re-routing my attention to my
wound. I was
instructed where to cut my wrist in order to take my own
life, should I begin to remember
or tell. There were
also accident programs instilled t insure my death
if I began to remember. Endless
programs were
installed int in my life that were available for later
use in suppressing my hidden
activities
Over the years, I
was told the following while I was being tortured, in
an~ you remember, you will
kill yourself; if
you tell, people will think you are crazy and will
loc you up in a mental institution; if you
don't obey us, we
will kill your family or your dog and ca if you tell,
we will kill you." I had witnessed
killings for years
and knew these were not id threats.
My programmers also
created within me, reporting personalities that
were instructed to tell on
me in regard to
anything I did that was stepping out of line. This
common feature of mind control is
reported by many
survivors.
"He called a little
child and had him stand among them. And he said: "I
tell you the truth, unless
you change and
become like little children, you will never enter the
kingdom of heaven. Therefore,
whoever humbles
himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom
of heaven."
--Matthew 18:2-4
"See that you do
not look down on one of these little ones. For I tell
you that their angels in heaven
always see the face
of my Father in heaven."
-- Matthew 18:10-11
65
Brice Taylor -
Thanks for the Memories
Chapter Four: Uncle
Charlie, Kissinger, Hope and their Little Puppet.
My Inner Twin
Sister, Sharon Weatherby
I was paraded in
many circles as a child, as Sharon Weatherby, and
sitting on the fringes watching
me was my Uncle
Charlie. He told me that he would always be there, rain
or shine.
Uncle Charlie was
always at my father's Aunt Maude's when we went to
visit her, just dad and me.
He would be waiting
for us on her little couch with the lace coverlets,
the sheer curtain behind holding a
green chameleon
lizard that I thought was real until I got older. All
decked out in a tan suit, his Dapper
Dan shoes and a
carnation in his lapel, Uncle Charlie smiled, shook my
hand and winked at me. If he had
on glasses, he
would take them off to make sure I caught the wink and
that was my cue to keep the
secret. He told me
before that it would hurt my father's feelings if he
knew he wasn't really my father so I
shouldn't ever
mention it. "Otherwise," he said, "it would likely break
his heart." I sure didn't want to
hurt my Daddy
anymore than he already was with his neck injury, slipped
disk and parents who abused
and didn't love
him. And he loved me so much, unless he had to hurt me.
Uncle Charlie said,
"Unfortunately he
has to do that to make you powerful one day." So when
I met Uncle Charlie with my
father the first
time, I never let on that I knew him. Later Charlie
said, "Young lady, that was the finest
acting job I've
ever seen. You're hired!"
Well I was "hired"
at a very young age, but was never paid a cent. And
Uncle Charlie was my
representative,
come to take me to meet first, Bob and, soon after,
Henry. Sharon was indeed
programmed to be
precocious and one day reported the following joke
repertoire to Henry and later to
audiences Bob and
Henry sent me to:
"I told my owners,
it's enough that you clowns expect me to work for
free. You
know it was bad
enough that they broke the child labor laws and I told
them about
that when I learned
it in school. They just laughed. But on top of that
was
SLAVE LABOR, and I
recited the Constitutional Amendment that was
causing a
problem in my
internal mind file legal systems. I told Henry it kept
getting thrown
out and I pretended
it was repeatedly escaping and leaping out of my
right ear.
He thought I was
funny and told me to refile it anyway - then I was
sent off for
more
reconditioning. I never thought they would stop with that stuff
and I was
right. Zap, zap,
zap."
These were the type
of jokes that Bob Hope programmed into me for shows
when I was demonstrated to
others that had
similar mind control "interests." The first time I
recited it to Henry for his approval, he
raised his eyebrows
and looked at me over his glasses; he usually
seemed either pretty amazed or leery at
the jokes Bob
installed into me. I was too young and too fragmented to
have come up with this type of
material on my own.
In later years when
people would ask Bob where I came from, Bob
jokingly told them I was picked
off a conveyor
belt. He always teased about where I came from. Bob told
me once that he chose me
because there was
that little something special that he saw in my eyes.
Henry created my
personality system and Bob handled the dialogue,
jokes, songs, dances, and
entertainment, and
supplied Henry with famous friends and connections
from all over the world,
including Hollywood
celebrities and business and political connections.
Henry said contacts were
everything, and
that he and Bob worked well together because, despite
their differences, together they
more than doubled
their influence and efficiency. They did wield
influence over a large group of people.
Henry had the mind
and Bob had the means and the connections.
Creating My Inner
Universe
66
Henry worked with
me more in the beginning to set up all my systems. He
even marked my
forehead all over
with little x's delineating what he called a "stellar
map" of my system. Then he had me
look into the
mirror and what I saw, in addition to my little five or
six year old face, framed by short hair,
was black x's all
over me. He said those were planets within my inner
universe of knowledge and that
they were laying in
wait for the day they would be occupied. Later he
attached the foreign countries,
using It's a Small
World for the different planets. This kept the
information totally separated since the
planets had no way
of communicating with each other. So all the
information remained self-contained
but held in orbit
in the big blue vastness by stars. All the stars were
used as mind files for different movie
"stars" or
politicians I was used with. The larger stars held larger
files of personalities I was used with
more regularly and
the smaller stars were reserved for people I only
saw on occasion. The largest stars
were reserved for
Presidents, Kings, Queens, etc. The Council, that
all-powerful group of men secretly
orchestrating this
whole drama, had very specialized, highly advanced
satellite systems that traveled all
over inside my
mind, constantly monitoring my internal "worlds." They
could also access interstellularly
or interplanetarily
and gain access to any information they wanted
about any area or person in the
system. Council
members were the only ones who didn't have any security
blocks throughout the system
anywhere. They had
full and total access like Henry. Bob's access was
limited only by his ability to be
able to fully
access every part of the system. Henry just didn't inform
Bob about planets or stars he didn't
want him to know
about. And Henry told me that he and Uncle Bob rode on
little space cycles all around
inner space in my
head in order to police everything and make sure
everything was always in perfect
order, with no file
on any planet or star ever getting out of order or
loose. That way Henry kept my mind
files in perfect
order. Henry told me the mind files are limitless
because the universe is limitless and
contains an
infinite vastness, always new areas to chart. Henry said it
could never be full.
Kissinger And Ever
More Sophisticated Programming
Kissinger was the
mastermind behind my personality structure, and used
others to further his
creation. He was
usually inside the top security places my father and
others took me. There they did all
the "prep work,"
they called it, before I was taken to Henry for his
expertise. Prepping, to me, meant
torture in
machines, chairs, all sorts of horrors and then, when I
couldn't function any longer, didn't
know my own name,
or if I was even real, they would take me to Henry.
Henry had a notebook of
diagrams he worked
from. A "distilled" diagram meant that the original
idea and intent had been
identified and
worked out, and the succeeding diagrams were a further
refinement until the end result
was total
perfection. That's how Henry created my personality
structure. Mind control was a secret
weapon that he
perfected over the years.
Henry had other
"robots," as he called them, but I was the one with
whom he spent the most time
perfecting. He said
I was the perfect subject and that my father had
done such a great preliminary job
that his work was
guaranteed a success, where other robots fell short
because they "bled through" and so
couldn't be relied
upon. I knew Henry had other robots because he said
he had them for various and
sundry things but
said that I was the cream of the crop.
Henry said we had a
"roving headquarters," and that was always his
black briefcase. When I saw
his briefcase I was
programmed to feel familiar, and my surroundings
didn't matter. I could now do my
work knowing that
everything was okay. At least that is what was
suggested for me to think and feel.
As I grew older, I
was taken to military bases for more sophisticated
programming. Helplessly
hooked up to high
tech machines that did things to my brain, I had no
way of understanding what these
people were doing
to me or why. I was placed in large metal chambers
and left in isolation, sometimes
spun, with colored
lights, always with only one color at a time. I was
restrained in sophisticated chairs
with electrodes
attached to my head, then electroshocked in a variety
of ways. Sophisticated audio
equipment also was
used on me. Often loud, piercing sounds were relayed
through earphones, usually
67
with different
sounds being fed into each ear. I didn't know what
exactly they were accomplishing with
all of this
technology, but I felt tortured by it.
Mind File System
I also continued to
be taken to Disneyland for base programming for my
government mind file
system. At around 8
years old, Henry made up some clever programs to
create a place and organization
in my head for my
international mind files. He created within my
personality system one or two children
for each
nationality; as is similarly portrayed in It's a Small World
ride at Disneyland. Henry said the
international
themes were to anchor in different mind file systems that
he said were "culturally
oriented." Around
The World In 80 Days was a song I sang over and over
again when either my mother
or my brother
played it on the organ or my brother would play it on his
accordion. The words I was
programmed to
respond to were, "Around the world in 80 days, I traveled
on when Hope was gone to
make my
rendezvous..." Henry Kissinger and Bob Hope continued to be
cohorts over the years and
played around the
world with people and governments, as much as that
song played repeatedly in my
head.
Henry linked a
whole array of different programs to the It's a Small
World ride and said, "When
you walk up to the
clock you will hear it tick-tock and then you will
dock; tick-tock, ticktock. Keep all
information
separate. Keep all information clean and neatly in its
space with little walls in between." I
walked up to the
ride, and saw the huge clock tower going tick-tock,
then I was told to file through the
turnstile until I
got to the ride. Henry meant for me to think my
actual trips abroad were really just
memories about this
ride. Due to this programming I had trouble
distinguishing reality from fantasy.
Disney fantasy was
really meant to hide my international experiences
from my conscious mind.
Once I got off the
ride Henry said something hypnotic to me to lock in
the program. He spent a
good part of the
day with me at Disneyland. He was really funny to the
personalities he was
programming. I
almost laughed when I first saw him. I knew it wasn't
allowed, but he did look really
funny in the
disguise. He had on a beard, wig and hat. He looked okay,
but I knew it was really Henry,
and so I said,
"Henry, why are you wearing those silly things?" I
couldn't comprehend why he needed to
pretend he wasn't
himself.
In his
thick-accented, deep, monotonic voice, he told me to be quiet
and with irritation in his
voice said, "You,
my child, are too precocious."
Henry put me on
ride after ride, and after I got off the rides, dizzy,
nauseated, lightheaded,
disoriented,
frightened, or whatever, he told me to "listen intently,"
while he programmed all sorts of
things into my mind
file system.
"My Name Is Henry
Sims"
Henry bought me
popcorn and a balloon, too, just like my parents did in
order to lock in the
program. If people
had known that Henry Kissinger was there at
Disneyland that day, they would have
been very
surprised. And if I were the cause of him being recognized, I
would surely have been
terminated. I was
never to allude to being associated with Henry
Kissinger. Henry gave me a lot of
mixing up on that
agenda by having me read "Henry books and cartoons,"
in his attempt to keep his
identity anonymous
to my conscious mind. He attempted to scramble my
association to him by having
me read a variety
of books; one was about Henry and the donut machine.
He was always whispering,
"My name is Henry
Sims," in my ear, so no one else could hear him. He
also had me eat "Oh Henry"
candy bars and read
"Oh Henry" cartoons, after he'd given me a hypnotic
command to wipe away all
memory of him while
I was reading or eating the above.
68
Sometimes Henry
would drive us to a parking lot, where we got out and
walked some distance
to a shopping
center or a waterway. Each time we were together, he
usually wore a different type hat
(sometimes a Dick
Tracy one) and a stick-on mustache and/or beard. He
used to have a square mustache
and a square goatee
to match. He wore those off and on. Henry was a
master of disguise and could keep
his roles straight.
He seemed very smart to me as a child.
In the early days,
Henry would tell people, "She's a smart cookie,
isn't she?" That was when I was
about 10, just
before my big political White House sexual liaisons were
to begin. But I'm getting ahead of
myself.
Carousel Program
Henry also
programmed me in front of a carousel ride. He had me stand
in front of the carousel
but he wouldn't let
me sit down on a horse or a bench on the ride. I
was only 8 years old or so and I
wanted to get on
the ride and have fun, but Henry said I had to stand
up outside of the ride. That day, the
carousel in my mind
had to be created with me standing up and the files
in my mind were to glide
smoothly and as
easily as the carousel turning. Then it would come to a
stop, like the wheel of fortune, at
the country in the
mind file that Henry would ask for. He told me,
"There's a whole other world in your
mind files, the
whole world." Then he told me, "The carousel makes the
files in your head turn easily and
effortlessly." My
programmers also linked memory of times I was spun
until I was dizzy and disoriented
in their attempt to
keep these mind files under the cloak of national
security. As I deprogrammed I often
mentally bumped
into spin, sleep, suicide, migraine, and drug programs
that I had to fight through in
order to get to the
original experiences. I was often physically sick,
as my program dictated, and suffered
massive migraine
headaches and pain in different parts of my body while
retrieving this information I'm
sharing with you.
Henry told me, "You
are a computer and like magnets repel, if you try
to work on a computer,
your mind will
repel. It will go away and you won't be able to think to
operate it. That is of course unless
it's "apple blossom
time," which was a cryptic reference to New York.
Later he programmed in "cherry
blossom time," as a
code for JFK. In 1991, some 30 years later, as I
attempted to document my memories
on computer from
the island of Kauai, I was continually frustrated, as
I would become disoriented upon
starting to write
my remembered experience. Often after I tenaciously
battled my way through the
journalizing of my
memories, I would smile having won, only to become
immediately disoriented, and
look again the next
moment to find that the information I had just
spent one to two hours documenting
had been erased by
another part of my personality structure who was
still following the ordered
command of my
controllers. It was extremely frustrating, but I was
stubborn and refused to give up!
Inner Clock Program
Henry programmed in
reporting personalities so he could use them to
debrief me in order to
access the data he
carefully requested I acquire on certain targeted
information or individuals. He
created a very
sophisticated system that allowed me to have an inner
clock that not only kept perfect
time but, when
asked, I delivered the time audibly, and also knew the
times around the world and could
even record and
playback the time that events occurred for me each day.
Henry would ask me, "What did
you do between the
hours of 8 and 5 on June 5th?"
I would recite, "At
8 a.m. I woke up, at 9 a.m. I took a shower, at 10
a.m. I saw so and so..." At
anytime Henry could
check the inner record to find out where I'd been,
who I was with, and what I was
saying or doing. He
instructed the set-up to house, "who, where and
what," and be able to enter "the
schedule recording
file" into the framework of the base program.
My most important
job was to drop the message to people he sent me to,
at the right time. Henry
said timing was
everything. So he taught me to drop messages at the
perfect time and to look into the
69
person's eyes and
notice other facial mannerisms and how he or she was
breathing. He said I would
get it like
"perfect clockwork." That was the actual name of a mind
file category, to list and recite all the
different world
times so Henry would know exactly what time it was in
each and every country in the
world anytime he
would ask me - and all this time and place orientation
looped back into the It's a Small
World ride and the
Clock Tower programming.
Henry could
remember file names and numbers better than anyone could.
He always
remembered the
major ones all in his head. He had a small notebook
where he kept track of other mind
files; large lists
for intricate blueprints, classified documents, and
detailed listings under subheadings.
The system of files
he created was multi-leveled and multi-tiered, like
a wedding cake. Henry told my
respective
personalities how it looked overall and created a picture in
our head so we could see how it
worked from inside.
We also had an inside "teacher" that we could hear
inside the head to teach, remind,
command and
organize. This teacher was important and worked inside
subconsciously and separately
with Henry, until I
was thirty-six or so, when a chiropractor
inadvertently connected my conscious mind
up to my inner
teacher, who later ultimately helped lead me to freedom.
The result was that Henry's
inner teacher
program was made conscious and I was taught to my
conscious mind what was previously
subconscious, thus,
my conscious and subconscious minds were linked
together making the program
even stronger and
accessible to learning information from others. So, I
was then consciously able to
realize I was
assigned my "inner teacher" and "inner guides," who
really were just code names for
projects or areas I
was involved in. Then, I began to hear the codes
consciously and it was activating
subconscious
personalities or material in my mind files. But once again
I am getting ahead of myself.
Chess Anyone?
Henry played games
with me; chess, checkers, tic-tae-toe, and
concentration; all mind games "to
create other files
and nooks and crannies to store files," Henry said.
He set up a system with a chess
game that was
intended to house cryptic messages between Henry and
others. The Council contacted
Henry and built a
very strong relationship with him through lengthy
discussions and information they
sent to him through
messages encoded in my mind file system.
Over time, Henry
wooed them by creating very sophisticated (yet simple
for the intelligent) ways of
communicating
through the coded chess game where each piece had a very
specific meaning that he
taught me to
memorize in order to relay the code. Over time the secret
players knew what the moves
meant by heart.
They were time worn. "You see the chess board like a
clock and all the pieces are
recognized in a
clockwise motion," Henry instructed me under his
hypnotic command. When the chess
board was set up,
all Henry (or the Council) had to do was to make a
move on the chess board and I
would memorize and
carry the move, containing the cryptic message, back
and it would be understood
what was meant by
the communication. Unilateral wars were directed; the
players in the game of war
were clearly
demarcated. There were no mistakes because everything was
programmed and crosschecked
like a computer. My
mind was programmed and catalogued like a machine,
so there could be
only absolute
precision.
The chessboard was
a bridge to the "other world" where my controllers
all existed, "like when
Dorothy went to
Oz," I was told. Henry and Bob and Governor (later
President) Reagan and the others
were to be seen
like Dorothy's friends and family--they existed over
the rainbow while my mom and dad
and friends were
where Auntie Em lived, in the real world. "So just
like in the mirror, everything is just
the opposite of
what you see. Like Sleeping Beauty looking into a pool
of clear water and seeing her
beautiful
reflection, you will go over the rainbow, melt into it."
"Over the Rainbow" was always going
toward the world
that was like Oz, that pretend world of Henry Sims and
Bob. Everyone was on the other
side, all I had to
do was "walk through the liquid mirror to face the
other side and that will immediately
switch you and turn
you around to face a new situation, calm, refreshed
and invigorated. Every move,
smooth and
efficient," Henry instructed me.
70
The Older Look
Henry created many
personalities inside of me who were programmed to be
older and wiser than
my young years, for
his use with others. These personalities were
formed and created by watching
different selected
movies as a child, like My Fair Lady. This was
necessary, I overheard Henry tell others,
in order to use me
at 10 years old, passed off to others as a 16-18
year old. Since I was physically
developed by 10
years old, they could pull it off, especially by
creating very mature personalities to
handle some of
their very important clients. By that time I began
having my hair done professionally
once a week. My
hairstyle was short and "chic," was the word Henry
used. He needed to provide me with
an older look and,
in those days, everyone needed me to be older
looking, older acting, older everything.
My hair was
professionally styled every week, in order to more smoothly
portray the very mature,
polished
personalities that he and others helped create for their use.
One obstacle was during the time I
had my braces on.
At that time, there were occasions when I would be
taken to my orthodontist, James
Mulick, DDS., a
UCLA graduate, and late at night, he would remove my
front braces and then a day or
two later after my
use was over, he would replace them. Like everyone
else, he was probably also under
programming.
In those days,
Henry accessed information from my mind files with
needles that he stuck in
between my
knuckles, though never in public. When we were at a meeting
or in a public place he just
touched my hand to
put me into a mind file mode, then he would cue me
with key/code numbers to
access the specific
files he wanted. Later, he used a "time clock
theme" and fortunately for me he
abandoned the use
of needles.
Over time, many
personalities were specifically created and enhanced
for future use with targeted
people, such as
presidents, entertainers or foreign leaders. There were
"president mind files" that were
created strictly
for the President's use in whatever way they needed or
wanted. I was instructed to wear
pearls for times I
was to be used strictly as a mind file, and diamonds
when I was to be used primarily
sexually with
presidents, heads of state or world leaders.
I can still hear
Henry's voice giving me the commands, with his thick
heavy accent he said, "Your
eyes are getting so
sleepy a train wouldn't rattle you. Now when you
are deep asleep you will be able to
retain vast
reservoirs of information for safekeeping and retrieval by
me and only me. This information
is safe, very safe,
because it can only be accessed by me. Do you
understand? Nod if you understand." I
nodded my head.
"Good," he said, "now we can begin with the taping of
the message, 'Mr. President, I
was aghast at your
stance in Iran. Change directions and face east. The
success of this operation depends
on it.' "
Other memory
compartments he created for other usage were seen to me,
inside, as blocks of
memory banks that
housed information. They all had combination locks
that Henry knew the codes to.
Many had number and
letter codes like, "16R, 17L, and 12 up straight."
With the access code, the door to
the memory bank in
my head would swing open wide and I could go in and
read the information Henry
wanted. He told me
the file to go into and I'd read through the
alphabetical mind file system to get to the
subject he wanted.
Then, I read him the data or accessed messages
directed to him from others.
Later on when I was
older, I had numerical codes for laundering money
to and from places he told
me to go.
UCLA
Henry spent time at
UCLA Neuropsychiatric Institute in Westwood,
California, in the area where
they tested me and
worked on my brain with all of their high tech
equipment; bright lights, goggles,
drugs,
electroshock, cat scan tubes, etc. Henry walked with the big,
heavy Caucasian doctor dressed in a
white lab coat down
the halls and I walked behind them until we got to
the double swinging doors, and
71
then the doctor
held one door open for Henry and I to enter. We all
went inside and Henry told me to
hop up on the
table. The doctor examined my reflexes and looked into my
eyes with different lights and
gave me tastes and
smells and all sorts of things that they said would
powerfully effect my brain. Henry
told me the doctor
was my imaginary friend. He told me that was what I
was to think, anyway. In an
attempt to further
scramble my brain the big doctor crossed his arms
over his chest with his hands
pointing in
opposite directions and said, "Is it east or is it west? I
don't know, I just get confused."
NASA
Another time
doctors in white coats played perceptual mind games with
me at a NASA
installation. First
they took me "through the course," they called it,
and I was taken from chairs that
performed different
operations, like one that spun, then next to an
isolation chamber. They put huge eye
machines up to my
face and had me close one eye and then the other in
order to program each side of the
brain separately.
Some things were then reversed and programmed into
another area of my brain
through the
opposite eye. They called this "cross-programming." For
other functions, both sides of my
brain had to be
operating syncronistically. Information for mind file
use was stored only on one side of
my brain. Then,
they allowed me to rest a moment before they injected
me with some drug after which
they put me through
the course again (first by a woman, then by a man).
They led me from each piece of
equipment by the
hand because at this point I was a total zombie. When
I finished the third go-around of
the course of
equipment; they put me in a totally soundless isolation
chamber. I don't know how long I
was in isolation,
but doctors in white lab coats released me and asked
me questions. I was still spinning;
I felt like I
couldn't even prevent my head and eyes from continually
spinning as I attempted to answer
their questions.
Focusing my eyes was very difficult. I can still feel
and experience, to the point of
abreaction, how
awful and disorienting it felt. The doctors always
acted very superior, but even as a child
under mind control,
somehow I was able to wonder, "who couldn't win
with mind games, under these
circumstances." I
was only a child who had been put through torture and
drugged, and now they wanted
to ask me questions
as if they were somehow better than I was. After
one doctor finished questioning me,
he would leave and
another doctor would question and test me further.
At the time I was
unable to consciously fathom the fact that that there
was never any normal life
for me. Only
"acting" normal outwardly and for the public. Normal was
what most people deemed
acceptable behavior
and I was told to emulate the normal people. So I
copied behavior and was only
allowed to be
around certain people. All other relationships were not
allowed. Both my mother and
father watched me
"like a hawk;" they said I wasn't allowed to go to
social events that were not part of
my programmed
reality.
Henry Got Me into
the Pentagon Lots of Times
In order to ready
me for this assignment, Henry played "a bingo game"
with me inside my head
and directed me to
the files in the Pentagon by a map he also created
inside my head. In the Pentagon
file room a code
identified each filing cabinet in the room by giving
it a letter code for the row and a
number code for the
number of the cabinet, starting with # 1 at the
left. There were 12 rows of 12
cabinets in the
area. The floor beneath the cabinets was smooth
concrete or marble-like. The files inside
the cabinets were
labeled with letter and number codes. You had to look
up the document you wanted
from a listing, to
get to the code number in order to look it up in the
files. These were kept on the
opposite side of
the building for security purposes so a person would
have to break through two security
systems to get to
the document they wanted. None were just filed
alphabetically, but had a different
system altogether
for security. The building's windows had those small
wavy, wiry lines in them. But the
file room didn't
have any windows. There were different types of
security systems. Some systems set and
unlocked with
cards, others with keys, and still others were heat,
light, voice or pressure activated. In
some areas there
were red laser beams that shone through the area that
housed the filing cabinets.
72
There were many
times that he dressed me in different disguises;
dressed me as a man,
complete with beard
and mustache, or a woman with padding to make me
appear heavyset. These
disguises were also
successful in making me appear different ages. He
often had hats that completed my
disguise for a job.
Henry disguised me and took me in one night. He
only did the night entrance on one
occasion, when
there was an emergency that was worth the risk of
abandoning me inside with
instructions to
self-destruct if apprehended. Henry did something to
get an armed guard to agree to take
me through the
long, gray halls and lines of desks to the area where
they had rows of file cabinets full of
classified
documents. Henry needed some information on a document, so
he said something to the guard
and the guard took
me all through the building unlocking systems as we
went. He took me up to the file
room and just like
in the game Henry and I had played, I went straight
for the file cabinet, coded in the
row and number on
the map in my head. Like a rat in a maze, I knew my
way exactly to the desired
destination and I
used a small flashlight that Henry had given me for
this purpose. The file area had
cameras that filmed
the area, like in banks. Those had to somehow be
shut down. Henry told me to pull
the file,
photographically memorize its entire contents within a
prearranged mind file and minutes to
completely
"photograph" a multi-page document with my mind. There was
no, enough time to read it,
but I photographed
it quickly, and then I returned to the guard. I
think the agreement was that I could
only have 2 minutes
in an open drawer once I located the document I
think Henry challenged guys that
thought I couldn't
do such things that fast or other things than seemed
humanly impossible, so that he
could get me into
different highly secured buildings Henry also palmed
guards and at other times got
special clearances,
or would work a deal out with a guard or the
guard's boss. It was tricky because
guards had to log
their Henry would help provide them with an alibi for
the time they were helping him.
During regular
business hours, Henry would prostitute me to top Pentad,
guards, whoever he
needed to
manipulate or access in order to gain the information he
wanted There were certain Pentagon
officials who were
more cooperative than others. In later years he took
me to meetings with men at the
Pentagon in order
to "debrief' me in front of them.
At the Pentagon
there was also an audio-visual room, as they called it
back in the late 60's and
early 70's, where
persons with top clearances could go to see a movie
(later videos), of top secret projects
and other
classified information. Henry got me in to see lots of those
over the years. There used to be a
large movie screen,
but later a large monitor for video showings
Henry and The CIA
Henry sent man,: at
the airport in a limo. Once in the office, Henry
sat me in the large wooden
chair that turned,
r, order to give me the message while he spun me.
Later, I was driven with him while
he sorted through
my mind files, listened to messages from people, and
inputted information on new
projects until we
reached Washington, D.C. Then he sent me into
buildings and I gave the information to
whomever I was told
to and in whatever way Henry said. Most of the time
se, was just an avenue to
deliver messages or
maybe just used as a payoff to officials who were
willing to overlook their security
command in order to
allow me access to certain classifies areas. Henry
was well greased into the inner
network of the FBI
and CIA. He and his groin made sure they had control
over these agencies. The
director was always
"one of theirs," but Henry had a lot of important
information to give these agencies
in order for things
to groove, like well-oiled cogs.
They sent me to
"give a message to the man on the second floor in the
hall who has a rep
handkerchief in his
left pocket and bumps into your left shoulder and
leans over to say, 'Sorry little girl.'
Then you tell him
this message."
Henry had a lot of
business with the CIA and the FBI and it was all a
big secret. He sent m, in even
at eight and nine
years old to deliver some of his most sensitive
information to the most sensitive of
connections. It all
began with him spinning me in the wooden chair and
inputting the message. Then he
73
would have someone
deliver me to the destination where I passed off
information, often to older, very
dignified, wealthy
looking gentlemen. Sometimes I "ran into". cute
little old man with white hair who
bumped me on the
shoulder and dropped something on the floor like a
rose, handkerchief, or key ring
and as we both bent
to get it, I'd deliver information. Sometimes it
was a long string of numbers and
sometimes just a
word like "Ajax, or "coma," or "barley him "or "make
him into a ham on rye," or
"tonight, 3 a.m.
Federal Building job."
Chain Of Command
My chain of command
was Henry first and then Bob. Henry Kissinger
created Sue and Bob Hope
created Sharon, and
initially they were to only work with their
respective sides of my personality
structure. Messages
could be sent through the inner personality system.
Bob was never to access Sue and
Henry wasn't to
access Sharon, but Henry taught many personalities how
to send messages back and
forth through the
system in order to get information about Sharon
without accessing directly through
her and thereby
keeping it secret from Bob that he was breaking their
agreement. Henry created "inner
runners" that took
messages from Sue to Sharon and then replied back
without ever having to have
Sharon present. It
worked well, but Bob didn't access Sue. Since Bob
didn't create my personality
infrastructure, he
lacked the sophistication to know how to access
information without being caught and
he knew Kissinger
would find out because Henry programmed me to always
tell the truth. I couldn't do
otherwise and I
would tell on Bob because Henry told me, "You watch him
and tell me everything he
does."
After lots of
contact with Henry, he said, "Like in a good marriage,
after awhile there is
unconscious
communication going all the time." He meant that it was
like knowing each other so well
that you know each
other's thoughts, and that's how he trained me to be
attuned to him.
In the early years
lots of my instructions came by way of the
telephone. My controllers would call
out a specific
personality's name and I would switch to her, listen for
instructions and when they said,
"Bye Sue," I'd
switch back to my regular personality, with no conscious
awareness of the event.
Bob took me to more
places as a child to gain experience, but Henry
just sat me in the chair a lot
and read
instructions or stuck that big pin in my thigh or hand, and
gave me things to look at to "take a
picture with my
inner camera."
Who Would Suspect a
Kid?
Henry had his
driver take us to different parks in New York and they
would let me out. I was eight
or nine years old
one time when Henry told me to, "walk toward the man
in the blue suit," and when he
dropped his
handkerchief I was to give him a message. When I walked
back to the car, Henry said,
"You're some kind
of homing pigeon." He called me that often when I was
little and doing "errands" for
him. He wanted me
to have short hair so he could disguise me to look
like a boy or a girl, whatever the
job required. He
had me be everything including "invisible"--that is,
hidden inside of a box that was
transported into a
large warehouse. Of course I was instructed that
once inside, to wait two hours, get
out of the box and
come and unlock the warehouse, and if necessary I
was instructed in how to break the
security code to
get out. Like Henry said, "Who would suspect a kid?"
"Forgive us our
trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against
us..." --The Lord's Prayer
74
Brice Taylor -
Thanks for the Memories
Chapter Five:
Initiation into the Political Arena as a Sex Slave
My father sold me
as a prostitute to neighbors and business contacts.
He programmed me to ride
my bike to the gas
station at the corner of Ventura Boulevard and
Fallbrook Avenue in Woodland Hills.
Mr. Teesdale and
Mr. Roberts owned the station. Frank, the auto
mechanic and gas station attendant
who worked there,
traded my father free gas and auto servicing in
exchange for having sex with me in the
bathroom at the
station. That went on for several years. The gas
station has since been demolished and
in its place stands
a large office building, but the memories of what
happened to me remain. He also took
me to the next door
neighbor, Mr. Faciano, to perform sexual favors,
always in exchange for twenty
dollar bills. My
father also sold me for sex to groups of men who met
at the welding shop he owned.
These men took me
by the hand, behind Smitty's Wood Lot, and sexually
abused me (I performed oral
sex, or they would
rape or sodomize me) in exchange for cash paid to my
father. My father, and later my
brother Rick, who
through a series of events ended up owning the family
welding business, sold child
pornography out of
the shop. These pornographic materials were kept
behind a corrugated metal wall
and sold to
interested customers when they came in. (My brother may not
be consciously aware of his
criminal
activities.) Over the years, I was well trained, through
trauma and sexual abuse, in line with the
technology that was
shared with my father so he could condition me for
a higher level of future use.
One night at the
dinner table my father announced that the actor,
Robert Taylor, had been in to
visit him again. I
never knew why a famous actor like Robert Taylor
would want to visit my father at his
welding shop, but
even though I couldn't yet piece the separate parts
of my mind together enough to
understand, I was
impressed nevertheless. During this time when I was
around 8-10 years old, my father
told me that Robert
Taylor watched a ballet performance where I danced
the Swan Lake ballet on toe
shoes. I wore a
pink sequined leotard with pink sequined straps and the
outfit had pink feathers attached
to it. I had a
pink-feathered headband that made it look like I had
pink feathers all around my face, like a
swan. Later on I
found out that Robert Taylor liked child pornography;
my father sold it to him from his
welding shop, and
he also liked sex with 7-10 year old girls.
This was an
important time of deciding just how far I would "go." Dad
wanted me to go all the way
to the top. He said
he was so proud of me and together we'd make his
father Ivan, a proud grandfather.
My father had a
group of pedophile friends with daughters my age. They
traded us sexually and
each independently
participated in filming us pornographically,
sometimes including bestiality. I had
many personalities
who were trained both in porn and prostitution.
Corbin Bowl
At age seven, I was
further trained by older women prostitutes in a
back room at the Corbin Bowl,
located on Ventura
Boulevard in Tarzana, California. I was taught the
"tricks of the trade," most of which
I already knew from
years of sexual abuse. The prostitution and
pornography I was a part of was a highly
organized activity.
There were times a
personality within me was programmed and used to
entice and kidnap other
children off the
street and into a big black car. The kidnapped
children were initially kept in cages in
back rooms and then
used in pornography and usually killed, often in
snuff films. We were all shocked
with cattle prods
or other electrical devices for lots of different
offenses. Pornography was filmed at the
75
Corbin Bowl, with
other children, women, men, and animals. Perhaps this
is where many of the
missing children,
whose faces we see so often on postal cards or
billboards are disappearing to and why
they are never
found. At this young age, I was also locked in a small,
darkened room with a bed and sold
as a prostitute to
large numbers of men in a day. The people in charge
left ropes, whips, and sex toys for
use by the men who
paid for sex with me.
One of my father's
pedophile friends and partners in the child porn and
prostitution business was
Dean Hartshorn.
Although Dean was nearly 20 years younger than my
father, their shared sexual
perversions kept
them close friends. Dean and his family lived in the
Encino Hills area and he operated a
pesticide business.
Dean had a beautiful daughter, named Donna, who had
the blondest hair and bluest
eyes I'd ever seen.
She was traded to my father for sex and I was
traded to Dean and some of his friends
and relatives. The
Hartshorn family joined my family on vacation
several times a year and Donna and I
were filmed as we
performed sexual acts with numerous different people.
Other Locations
Over the years I
was taken to many different locations and filmed
and/or programmed. Some of
these were: Turlock
Lake, Mount Shasta, Clear Lake, Lake Arrowhead,
Bass Lake, Lake Cachuma, Lake
Isabella, Millerton
Lake, Pine Flats, Lake Elsinore, Big Bear Lake, La
Jolla, Mission Bay, Salton Sea,
Coronado, San Juan
Capistrano, the Colorado River, Lake Mead, Lake
Mohave, Lake Havasu, Death
Valley, Las Vegas,
and other places we went for so-called "waterskiing
vacations."
Cliff Spear was
also a pedophile friend of my fathers. His daughter
Debbie (also known as
DeeDee) was my age
and was in my brownie troop and class at school. I
was traded to Cliff by my father,
and was molested by
him every time I spent the night at Debbie's house.
In the middle of the night,
Debbie and I, and
sometimes her younger sister Jana, were awakened and
taken to Cliff's carpeting
business to be
filmed pornographically.
Guy Cooper was a
man who filmed me in porn at his home in Hidden Hills,
with his younger
daughter, Buffy. In
this porn I was also forced to have sex with
animals, some of them large farm
animals. You can
imagine how shameful and degrading these experiences
are to a child.
To my knowledge, my
father's affiliation was not limited to any single
group, nor did he subscribe
to membership in
any group for any length of time. Instead, his
membership was temporary, as he
moved from one
group to another, suiting my programmer's needs for the
time. The groups I am aware
of that he attended
for different periods of time were the Lions Club,
Ku Klux Klan, and Neo-Nazi
groups. Publicly
and consciously my father adamantly professed that he
was not prejudiced against any
race or religion
and taught me not to be racially prejudiced. In
private, secret gatherings with likeminded
men, he witnessed
and participated in ceremonies where they humiliated,
tortured,
dismembered and
killed Black people and Jewish people. I know, because
as a child I was present at
some of those
"meetings."
I was taken often
to rituals that were performed late at night. One
incident that stands out in my
mind was a night
near my 10th birthday when a group of men sacrificed a
Black man, saying it was done
in my "honor," to
give me power. As I watched in sheer panic,
devastation, and horror, they tortured and
then threw this man
alive into the bonfire. To withstand this extremely
traumatic event, I split off
another personality
to deal with it. On another occasion, as a Fourth
of July event, a small child was
delivered by a
black sedan to my father at the gully at the end of our
street. I watched in horror as my
father strapped a
homemade bomb he had made to this little boy's body
and told me he was so powerful
he could make the
child live or die. The next thing I knew the bomb
went off and the child was nowhere
to be found. The
tactics used to keep me dissociated and split were
endless.
The Shriners
76
I remembered my
father and our Shriner neighbor, Jack Rice, taking me
to a meeting where a
group of men, all
wearing red Shriner hats, sat at tables. My father
was given a Shriner hat and acted like
he felt
uncomfortable wearing it. I was patriotically wearing a navy
blue v-neck dress with a large white
sailor collar. Mr.
Rice sat on one side of me and my father on the
other. They ate dinner but I just sat at
my place in a daze
and didn't eat anything. One of the Shriner's stood
at his table and clinking his glass
to get everyone's
attention, he announced, "We have a little member
here tonight to entertain and delight
you. Please welcome
her with a round of applause."
I walked up onto
the stage and began dancing to The National Anthem.
"Oh say can you see, by
the dawn's early
light," the words played as I danced and slowly began
taking off first my dress, then my
shoes, pantaloons,
nylons, bra, and panties until I stood dressed only
in a tiny tasseled white satin gstring.
Why I didn't strip
all the way I don't know. All the men cheered and
after I was through Mr. Rice
stood at the bottom
of the stage stairs to take me backstage to dress.
He held out his arm and I took it. I
felt like I was
blind and couldn't see to find my way so he led me as
he recited the program he had
continually taught
me to memorize, "There was a man who had no eyes and
he went out to view the
skies, he saw a
tree with apples on it, he picked no apples off but
left no apples on it." It was a "blind"
program and I was
told I couldn't see while I was there. Mr. Rice led
me to a back room. It wasn't like a
dressing room, just
a side room. He gave me some kind of red robe to
wear, "They'll bring your clothes
on into us in
awhile, we'll just wait." Other nights at different
Shriner places, there were satanic rituals
where I was raped
on an altar in front of the group of robed men. There
were many other Shriner
meetings; lots of
them disguised "under the big top," at Shriner
circuses. Circuses were a place of trauma
over the years and
I usually ended up getting hurt.
My neighbor Peggy
and I performed Alice in Wonderland in what seemingly
appeared to be an
innocent backyard
neighborhood play for these elderly neighbors, Mr.
& Mrs. Rice. They sat on their
patio, having
cocktails like they always did at happy hour and watched
while we performed. In the
middle of the play,
Mr. Rice wiggled his finger and calling me over to
him, he said, "Come here, Susie, I
want to tell you a
secret." I stood by this elderly man's chair on the
patio and he motioned for me to bend
over so he could
whisper a secret to me. His pungent alcohol breath
permeated the air as he said, "I have
a little surprise
that will help you act out the play better," and he
put a small role of lifesavers into my
hand and told me,
"open your mouth for the next surprise." Naively and
with complete trust, I opened
my mouth as he
said, "Close your eyes for the hidden surprise, and
remember the real surprise is in your
hand." Then he
reminded me, "open your mouth for the hidden surprise."
In childlike
innocence, I kept my eyes closed, waiting in anticipation
for the surprise. Mr. Rice
placed something in
my mouth that was round as he said, "This is a
heavenly wafer, my dear, a hidden
heavenly wafer, in
which you will appear." I didn't know what he meant
but I began feeling very weak
and funny inside,
just like Alice in Wonderland did. Then he said, "Go
finish your play now and act your
part. Your part is
about to start, so don't be late for a very
important date or you will end up in trouble
over and over and
over again. Always obey the white rabbit, follow him
inside for he has the time of day
in which you will
play. So go now and play your play. Which is it,
play? The play or the play?"
In a confused
stupor, I walked back over to my friend Peggy and entered
the play again, saying my
part, which was,
"I'm late, I'm late for a very important date."
Mr. Rice was my
date at other evening affairs with the Shriners, some
where I was even the "altar
girl" but it wasn't
like a sacred ceremony at the Catholic Church,
instead, I was taken to satanic rituals.
They were really
bad rituals where I was raped on an altar in front of
lots of Shriners late at night, in dark
outside places and
they hurt and tortured me in the name of what they
called, "the holy one."
77
Peggy and I also
performed The Parent Trap for the Rice's. This was a
way of cementing and
concretizing the
Susan and Sharon twin sister programming. I played
Sharon in the backyard play and
Peggy played Susan.
We even cut my dress just like in the movie.
As I remembered
what had actually happened, in full detail, instead of
merely recalling the small
slice of conscious
reality of this past event, I could smell the Rice's
home, Mr. Rice's alcohol breath, and
his daughter
Joanie's perfume, which was strong and also had an alcohol
base to it. Hidden behind all
the fairy tales and
seemingly good things were painful memories of the
places I was taken to for
programming.
The Onset of Puberty
I began puberty
around this time and my father snuck into my room like
he always did at night.
He explained to me
while I was in a haze of sleep, that I was of the
superior race, that I was of Aryan
descent and that he
was proud of my blond hair, green eyes, and fair
skin. At the time, I had no idea what
he was talking
about and ignored it, pretending I didn't hear him.
I started
menstruating at ten. This heralded abuse in rituals which
involved being raped and
impregnated,
sometimes twice a year. When the fetuses were two to three
months old, they were aborted
at rituals and
ingested by members of the group in order to fulfill the
beliefs of the group; that it made
those participating
"more powerful." These were devastating, deeply
traumatizing, and soulfully painful
experiences, the
memory of which was repressed along with all the other
traumas. These traumatic
events served as
mind control reinforcement, to insure amnesia of my
use in pornography, prostitution,
and later projects
I was to serve in.
By the end of the
5" grade, when I was almost eleven, I had gone
through puberty, was fully
developed and had
already had my menstrual cycle for a year. Despite
the abuse, I was programmed to
be an average
student, with many "school" personalities who helped me
act like a "normal kid." Often I
displayed behavior
problems in school, as I acted out, due to what was
secretly going on at home and at
other dark, hidden
places. My teachers merely passed off my joking and
constant disruption as typical
mischievous
behavior and I won an award for class clown. I also had
personalities who were totally
amnesiac of any of
my abuse who were able to function normally at
school. As I entered junior high
school, I did the
things that normal kids do; I was a cheerleader,
performed in the chorus, sang solos at
school
performances, won awards for the most beautiful smile and for
being the class clown, and
obtained other
awards for service. And my mother had the cleanest house
in the neighborhood.
To all outward
appearances, all of these families I've mentioned,
seemed to be normal, upstanding
citizens of the
community. NO one would have ever suspected that, in
secret, all of this abuse was
occurring. The
mothers kept clean children and clean houses, smiled and
were polite and caring in
public, and the
fathers acted charming and were considered responsible
businessmen in the community.
What went on behind
closed doors--that no one wanted to believe or hear
about, not even my school
principal--was the
spiritual, physical, and emotional devastation of
many, many children.
In my desperation
to obtain help or understanding, I started very early
trying to figure out what
was wrong. I kept
bumping into mind control programming that re-routed
my thoughts, and exasperated
with my statements
and questions, my mother constantly "re-minded" me
from her own programming,
"You just think too
much!"
When I turned
eleven, my father announced he was flying me to his small
hometown of
Correctionville,
Iowa, to meet my grandparents. I was surprised by this
invitation, as family problems
78
had estranged my
father from his parents for years ...in fact, from
even before my birth. My father
never had anything
pleasant to say about his parents. But I was excited
to fly on an airplane (which I
mistakenly thought
was my first time) and curious about meeting my
grandparents for the first time. The
telltale fact that
my father hated them, and had stolen their car and
run away from home at fifteen never
entered my thought
processes. Nor was I able to wonder why my mother
and brothers were not invited
to go along.
Unfortunately, due to the mind control I was under, I did
not have the ability to question or
to wonder about
anything along certain lines. I merely went along with
what I was told to do.
I was impregnated
several months before we were to go to Iowa. My
mother took me shopping to
a clothes store
called Stardusters. It was like Hollywood there. The
saleslady picked out dresses and took
me into the
dressing room and, in spite of my embarrassment, dressed me
in outfits complete with
accessories. My
mother bought me several expensive outfits, complete
with hats, belts, purses and fancy,
frilly
undergarments, although she wore old, ragged clothes and at home
the word was that we were
broke.
On the way home
from our shopping spree, my mother took note of my
maternally pooching
tummy, and over the
next few months, yelled at me constantly saying,
"Hold in your stomach." Neither
of us consciously
knew that I was pregnant and I tried my best to hold
in my tummy. During my teen
years, I was
usually anorexic, very thin, and didn't eat much, so the
fact that I was pregnant for a month
or two was not easy
to detect, especially to those who wouldn't have
ever expected it.
My paternal
grandfather, Ivan Charles Eckhart, was a Jersey Ice Cream
manufacturer, a
multimillionaire
and mayor of the town of Correctionville, Iowa, where
he lived with my grandmother.
Later on he won a
landslide election to become the supervisor of the
Third District and for years was
involved in both
local and state politics.
My paternal
grandmother, Leah Eckhart, was a small but angry-tempered
woman. Now I
understand why.
Instead of sleeping upstairs in the plush bedroom with
my grandfather, she slept in the
bare cement floored
basement on a small cot. At the time I could not
question or wonder about that
either. My
grandparents are now both deceased, left with never having
the opportunity of understanding
or healing the
intergenerational abuse that created this problem to
begin with.
I had many
traumatic experiences on my visits to Iowa. I suppose, back
then, my father's return
visit to his
parents appeared just to be a family reunion, but nothing
could have been further from the
truth.
While in Iowa, I
had the first of several forced abortions, which was
performed in a torturous
fashion by a local
doctor. Although I was actually raped and made
pregnant at a ritual, I was humiliated
and shamed for
becoming pregnant. As in all trauma-based mind control,
everything was a double-bind.
I was blamed and
shamed for everything that happened, none of which I
ever had any control over. My
baby, which was not
yet old enough to be born alive, was nevertheless a
perfectly formed fetus. My
grandparents and my
father performed a ritual behind their house in
which they convinced me that I had
killed my own baby
(it was obviously born dead), and they ate it and
forced me to participate. Since I was
suffering from
Multiple Personality Disorder, this traumatic
experience, along with many others, was
stored neatly away
from my conscious mind, hidden in alternate
personalities, and sealed away from my
conscious awareness
by programming that covered and hid the truth of my
life.
One night after
returning to my grandfather's house, somehow the
experiences that terrified me
were not so neatly
hidden from my consciousness and in an act of panic
and desperation, I frantically
tried to phone my
mother to ask her to help me. Overhearing me, my
grandfather grabbed the phone out
of my hand and
proceeded to rip the phone out of the wall and in
retaliation, tied me to the post of his
iron bed frame for
two days, while they went out of town. My
grandfather was very brutal. But my father
79
was very proud of
the human technology I possessed. He was pleased to
be able to show his father all
of my "trained"
abilities.
During the
remainder of the time we were in Iowa, I was forced to
entertain my grandfather's
business and
political friends. I danced naked on the table at meetings
and performed sexual favors for
many of my
grandfather's associates. To demonstrate my abilities, my
father prompted the men to use
their cigars or
cigarettes to burn my vaginal area as I kneeled before
them. My father wanted to
demonstrate that I
would smile and show no signs of the pain due to
mind control. After these meetings,
I was connected to
a higher level of politicians.
From then on, when
my father took me on our yearly trips to Iowa, I was
slowly connected to
more and more
political figures. In the meantime, he used me wherever
he could to get cash, or more
often, courtesies
for favors. We started having enough money to go out
to dinner, which was a treat we
could not
previously afford. It's likely that some of the money came
from my father's payoffs from my use
in porn and
prostitution.
Training Farms
There were child
and adolescent training centers called "farms," that I
believe were located in
Montreal, a city in
the French Canadian Province of Quebec. I was taken
to one for "grace training," and
to step up the
etiquette and formal training I would need to be used a
notch higher. Other teenage girls
were also there in
training. It felt like a prison. I think I was there
for a week - it was difficult to
determine the
actual span of time. It had to be winter because it was
chilly and windy outside, and the
trees were barren
and there were leaves on the ground. This place was
located out in the countryside. It
wasn't on the way
to anything so if anyone came near they could easily
be identified as intruders. We
were seen to public
eyes as unwed mothers. We even had to stuff a
pillow in our pants and go into town
every once in
awhile. I slept with other girls in a white farm building
that had cement floors and cots
with mattresses
that lined the room. We all compliantly took the
medicine they gave us every morning.
The people that
worked at "the farm" changed daily, men and women both,
but never the same ones two
days in a row. We
ate dinner and we all got into bed, then someone told
us a story. They treated us like a
herd of cows and we
all totally obeyed instructions; there was no fuss
and no fight, just total obedience.
I was taught how to
walk elegantly with a book on my head and had to be
able to squat down without
dropping the book,
and then stand up again. I was assigned to work with
language input tapes in a small
sound room equipped
with headphones. I was given a mirror to look into
to practice making certain
sounds. All the
instructions were given to me auditorily, even down to,
"hold your mouth like you are
saying A or O," and
then I heard the sound I was to mimic. Once I
learned the physical impressions of
how to make the
sounds they could easily attach language skills. I
don't know how it all works, but later
they had me lay
down with headphones on while they played sounds so
fast that I couldn't hear the
words. Later they
said that it had "worked," and that I had received
French language enhancement. The
lady explained that
in most foreign countries it was proper to ask for
a translator, but it was to be
common background
for the upper class to at least speak fluent French
and Italian, and preferably
German and Russian
also. Since I was going to be used with foreign
people and in foreign countries, I
had to know their
languages and customs.
I was also shown
movies from a film projector onto a screen. I saw
films on different foreign
countries in order
to obtain the necessary culture. They instructed me,
"Put this in your China file," and
then I would watch
a movie intently recording all of it, the places,
the names, dates, historical facts,
everything. Then
later on when Henry and I arrived in these foreign
lands, I was familiar with their
cultural background
so I wouldn't make a faux pas.
80
All we did at the
training farm was eat lightly, sleep and learn; input
was ingested in large
quantities for
later use. Henry didn't visit me there. He said he might
stop in to check on me, but he
never did.
Beforehand, he tied my Wizard of Oz programming to this
event when he told me to believe, "I
left my bed in
Kansas, and went on the wings of a tornado to the farm."
When I came back "to Kansas" I
woke up in my own
bed in California and was very, very sick. My mom
took care of me and told me that I
had the flu. I had
a high fever and was a little delirious. I couldn't
even manage to keep my eyes focused.
I felt exhausted
and so sick that I couldn't sleep, so I lay in my bed
and prayed to die.
During summer
vacation one year, Mr. Rice, our Shriner neighbor,
re-introduced me to his
daughter, Joanie
Rice, who was visiting for the summer from her home in
White Plains, New York. She
was much older than
I and was very attractive. She wore lots of makeup
and jewelry, and wore a heavy
perfume called
Royal Secret. During that time, my maternal grandmother
who lived with us had to be
put in a rest home
and my mother visited her every day, so Joanie,
stayed to babysit me and played with
me by our pool in
my mother's absence. It all looked like a nice
arrangement from the outside, but her
presence was
planned to further my programming. She taught me to be
"dignified." I heard that word
over and over and
over. She taught me social etiquette--to act
polished, to have good manners, and she
was there to
voice-program me when the men came with the equipment. At
these times, she and a group
of men held me down
on the couch, drugged me, placed a band around my
head, which they retrieved
from a black
briefcase full of special equipment including bright
lights and machines which delivered
different sounds
and instructions. I was given names of politicians and
programmed with instructions
that, when I saw
them on TV or heard them on radio, I was to become
completely amnestic of who and
what I was involved
in. She also programmed me from lists of numbers
and codes. Other years, I was
flown to her
glamorous apartment in New York. She escorted me to
Washington, DC at first, so I
wouldn't feel
afraid or alone and could work at my maximum capacity. My
mother and I also began to
wear Royal Secret
perfume, like Joanie.
Twenty-nine Palms
My family bought
property in Twenty-nine Palms, California and built a
small cabin on the desert
land. One weekend
my father explained that my mom needed a little time
to herself since her mother
had just passed
away. I, too, was sad that my grandmother had died. My
controllers told me she went to
the streets of hell
as evidenced by the blood coming out of her face.
She died of high blood pressure,
which caused the
bleeding. But they said she went to hell and I hoped
she would come back alive so we
could re-route her.
But after awhile that didn't scare me because I
knew my "Gram" didn't go to hell.
Although in a
programmed state, my grandmother participated at times in
my abuse, I knew she was
really a nice
quiet, gentle woman, who like my mother, never would have
intentionally hurt anyone.
So, my father took
my brothers and I to our Twenty-nine Palms cabin and
one day they involved
me in a sex ritual.
They got me drunk, then stripped and tied me by my
wrists and ankles face up in the
sand in the intense
desert sun. They seemed so excited as they did this
to me. My father painted a satanic
pentagram and green
swastikas on my body. Later on, as it began to get
dark he poured gas in a wide
circle around me
and once it was really dark he lit a match which
started a fire burning all around me. I
thought they were
going to cook me. They put a half-dead, sandy, horned
toad in my mouth and told me
to hold it there.
My brother Rick was running all around in an excited
frenzy and my brother Jim was
there also. At this
ritual, in addition to traumatizing me, they were
being taught how to be in charge. I
was raped by all of
them and their friends.
My Future Marriage
Was Arranged In 7th Grade
During this time, I
attended Hale Junior High School, which was located
directly across the street
from our church,
the First Presbyterian Church of Woodland Hills. It
was at Hale, in the 7'" grade (we
were thirteen),
that I met Craig Ford (Robert Craig Ford). One
afternoon, my mother picked me up from
school and I
introduced Craig to her. After Craig left and I got into
the car, my mother announced, "That
81
is the boy you will
marry." I laughed and asked her how she knew. She
said she just knew. I never
questioned further.
Craig asked me to go steady soon afterward.
Over the next
several years, Craig and I were "bonded" to each other
through crossprogramming
and shared trauma
to insure that Craig was under sufficient mind
control to later serve as my "handler."
A ritual at the
First Presbyterian Church served to seal our bond, and
soon other more sophisticated
means of
programming were utilized.
White Programming
Vans
Large white vans
with men in suits in the back picked us up at
differing locations in Ventura and
Oxnard, California,
and directed us into the back of the van.
Specialized equipment in briefcases and
other larger
equipment in the van awaited us. They routinely beat Craig
in front of me to demonstrate
what a weakling he
really was and how powerful and in control of me
they were. They would slap me
around in front of
him, as well, to show him how powerless he was to
help me and how much in control
they were.
Electroshock was
used on both of us, first by inserting and activating
an electric prod in my vagina
and then delivering
the same to Craig on his penis. We were forced to
watch in a dissociative, trance state
as the other was
tortured and traumatized as they readied us for
programming.
The bond that was
formed by shared trauma was profound. It created
subconscious feelings of
being in this whole
mess together and enforced the feelings that we
would never be able to get out. After
they had
sufficiently worn us down, they strapped us into sophisticated
chairs and hooked us up to
electrodes. Tones
were combined with electroshock in order to create
access cues that gave them quick
and easy access to
us both later on. Hypnotic suggestions and love
songs were presented to us, in order
to facilitate our
"falling madly in love." In fact my controllers
created an entire system of songs intended
to invoke selected,
preordained feelings toward Craig and others. The
list of songs was added to and
cultivated over the
years depending on what attitudes and emotions they
wanted to create within me.
These songs were
some of the strongest measures of control and
literally created what I thought were my
own feelings about
Craig, but which really were contrived feelings
created to support the interests of my
controllers.
Combined with
scenarios such as this, my brothers and their
muscle-bound friends would
intercept us when
we were parked after a date to kiss. They pulled
Craig out of the car and beat him up as
they instructed him
not to touch me sexually. Then one of them would
rape me in front of him as they
restrained him
nearby, rendering him once again powerless to help.
All these
conditioning experiences served to "prepare" Craig to
robotically deliver and hand me
over to other men,
then step aside while I passed messages or serviced
them sexually. It was always his
job to make sure I
was delivered to the right place, at the right time,
to the right person, and for many
years, that is
exactly what he did.
I didn't have sex
with Bob Hope until later. Bob said the wait would do
him good, "give him
something to look
forward to," and then he would lean down and poke me
and do that ole' softshoe
dance. He did that
often. He said, "I like my fruit ripened, not
plucked before its time." At other times he
would say to his
friends when I was around, "See, I know how to pick my
fruit, huh?" Then he'd say, "Hey
kid, get me some
grapes," and I'd go get them and he would show off how
cute and efficient I was. He
was always showing
off my new acts. He would say, "Do your Coca Roca
dance." So I'd do a dance. Then
he would say, "No,
the other Coca Roca," and I'd take off my clothes
while dancing. Or he would have me
sing I Enjoy Being
A Girl, which was a song I sang for a junior high
school performance and later for him
and others.
82
The Theater in the
Round was built and opened in Woodland Hills and
drew large crowds to
watch the live
action plays that were performed in the round theater. I
attended the plays often and it
was there that I
was prostituted to Bob's friend, Sammy Davis, Jr. It
was a brutal event that I "forgot"
about as soon as he
was through with me.
"Love suffereth
long, and is kind..." -- 1 Corinthians 13:4
83
Brice Taylor -
Thanks for the Memories
Chapter Six: JFK
and the Sex Shuttle
During a
demonstration of the high level of technology available to
those willing to join the ranks,
Henry masterfully
delivered a slide presentation of the mind control
technology. I sat in the darkened
room in "park
mode," with my conscious mind seemingly blocked from the
information, yet carrying out
the command of my
master to perfectly record all that went on around
me. First Henry flashed a slide of
me in my normal
California life. He said, "Who in their right mind
would believe that this kid was having
sexual relations
with the President of the United States?" The men
agreed. Then he followed by a series
of slides of me
artfully made up, dressed formally and in different
disguises. The men were amazed at the
difference.
Many men were
brought into the cause simply because they wanted to own
a piece of the rock and
have their own
robots to do their work or create their pleasures: At
first they were given just bits of
information at a
time, to determine if they would be cooperative. Then
they were given a little more
information to test
the waters to see if they were ready for the final
blow. Usually dozens of meetings
occurred on
superficial levels before any real information was given
out and that was only released when
the men were
"deeply committed," which meant that they would be
compromising themselves or their
family if they
backed out at a certain point.
In the beginning
when Henry was cultivating my relationship with JFK
and insuring him of my
security
guarantees, Henry didn't fill me with much of an agenda except
to give JFK the "royal
treatment," which
meant the same as Bob's (Hope's) full smorgasbord of
sexual positions and favors.
Henry told me to
carefully note everything JFK said and did for
debriefing afterwards. Henry had a
challenge with JFK
because as he said, "he's so damn self-initiating,"
and so Henry couldn't have me take
the lead, thereby
slipping in comments intended for Henry's covert
purposes. So for awhile in the
beginning, he just
let me be with JFK so that he would get used to me,
and Henry said, "Then a plan will
inevitably open up."
Kissinger didn't
spend a lot of time with JFK. They spoke but it was
like they were "...polar
opposites and
constantly repelled each other," Henry said. But Henry,
and especially Bob as the front
man, got to JFK and
paved the way for his acceptance of me. Once we
were in, then Henry started
strategizing
heavily. That is what happened after I began having sex
with JFK. Henry said, "Mind files
were created to
delight the young president." As Kissinger counted on,
JFK was a romantic and seemed
to get caught up in
many of the messages I delivered to him. The
messages made him feel good and
Henry wanted him to
feel good and powerful with me. I was delivering
high level Council messages
created by Bob and
Henry, that Henry instilled in me to deliver to
"John-Feeee," that's what I called him.
They got a war
underway through JFK, a big war that was to influence
not only America but also the
international
climate.
It was as common
for foreign dignitaries, heads of state, senators,
congressmen, governors, and
other leaders, to
ride the Lincoln Memorial (Oral Sex) Tour, as it was
for them to get their shoes shined
in the local
hotels. In fact, that was one of the jokes I was
instructed to deliver to get a man loosened up. I
was programmed to
say, "Want your shoe shined?" Then I would unzip him
and begin. There were lots of
men who wanted
further servicing later on, but I was instructed to
refer them to my boss.
I serviced many men
on this so-called shuttle service over the years of
my life that should have
been filled with
junior high, high school and college extracurricular
activities of my own choosing. The
elitists I worked
for had an endless supply of slaves that kept the
tour shuttle running regularly. I wasn't
really giving
tours, just sex in the limo. The men felt safe and
protected from public exposure by their
placement in the
back of the limo because they couldn't be seen due to
the security windows. They had
84
privacy when they
exited the limo so they wouldn't be exposed. Security
employees would always await
the arrival of the
shuttle limo to open the door and coach them out
when the "coast was clear," then
transfer them
immediately into their own personal limo so no one would
ever detect.
There were times
when Henry would have a driver take us from DC to his
office in New York. He
would work with me
in the back seat after he told the driver, "I'll be
busy working and I don't want to be
interrupted." So
the driver shut the window between the seats and Henry
would debrief me and take
sketchy notes, draw
diagrams and plans while I was talking or he would
touch his finger to my forehead
and start uploading
me for future assignments. Much of our work took
place like this on drives between
places usually just
before or after I had been used at the White House
or other places. It was convenient,
as well as a
security measure, because he could account for his time
spent with me by saying, "I was en
route to NY or DC,"
or wherever he was going, and since I was on the
same time track as Henry it was all
very time
efficient, and concealed his activity and connection to me.
To Henry the efficient use of his
time was
everything. He told me, "When people can master their use of
time, they have the secret to
success." He often
talked on and on to me about his ideas, events and
people, using me as a sounding
board, completely
assured that I couldn't ever break the security
programming necessary to remember
his conversations.
Henry said I was
much more than his efficient secretary, I was a
"diplomat extraordinare." I wore
a brownish tan wool
suit, tailor-made by my mother, to my first meeting
in the Soviet Union. Henry
taught me then that
the Soviet Union, USSR and Russia basically all
meant the same thing. He also told
me that my mother
was always with me giving me strength and maturity,
and that I could feel connected
to her by wearing
the suit she made for me. I guess I was emotionally
needing to be older than 10, my
actual age at the
time. So he bolstered me maturationally by mentally
tying me to my mother. It was
funny because if I
wore wool pants or a wool jacket, I would scratch
myself and I couldn't stop it. And no
matter how many
times Henry gave me the hypnotic suggestion, "it's not
scratching you, the material is
soft and smooth on
your skin," it still itched. So my mom had to line
everything she made for me that
was wool.
JFK rode the L.M.
sex tour regularly and while I was down on my knees
he would pat me on the
back and say, "You
are really going to move up the ranks." Or, "You're
really going to amount to
something when you
grow up, kid." He loved lunch-time oral sex and the
secret service agents rode in
the front with the
limo driver and chewed him out royally for, as they
said, "...breaking stride that is
nullifying National
Security, Sir."
To calm the
disgruntled Secret Service agents, Jack would laughingly
explain, "Relax, I deserve a
relaxing lunch
break, that's all." I can still remember his accent so
clearly.
JFK was really
gutsy. He would even sneak me into the White House for
"nooners." Sometimes
there was another
sex slave with me and when we'd get up to the bedroom
he would say, "We're just
furthering your
training so you'll be top-notch when you grow up." He
taught me, "A man likes a woman
who's aggressive
sexually. My wife doesn't satisfy me. She just lays
back and waits. But a man likes a
woman who takes
charge." Then he would lay back and wait for the two of
us to stimulate him, at which
point he turned
into an animal. Jack said he was training me for the
future. I didn't know what that
meant. He said I
was serving my country by meeting the needs of their
leader. He said, "By easing my
stresses you help
me make better decisions." Touching the tip of my
nose he continued, "So young lady,
you are very
important to our nation." I was just out of braces.
JFK had a lean
muscular body and a hairy chest. He worked out on the
rowing machine. On one
occasion as we were
lying in bed together, he said to me, "You know, we
both have the same kind of
teeth." I reached
out and put my hand into his mouth to feel his teeth
and he was right, we both had big
teeth--only his
were more squared off.
85
JFK also liked anal
sex, like his brother Ted. After he found out I was
with Ted he asked me what
his brother was
really like. When I explained that he hurt me, he just
shook his head and said, "I never
could understand
what happened to my brother. We both had the same
parents, but we did go to
different boarding
schools and had different friends." He further
explained that they didn't see their
parents often and
that their family had so much money that they chose
the school that was the most
fitting for their
sons and sent them there. So as he explained, there
weren't many family interactions. He
said he felt lonely
a lot when he was growing up, that he was closer to
the maids and nannies than to his
parents. He said,
"The Kennedy Clan publicly appears to be a close knit
family, but I never saw my
parents except on
holidays when they would meet in Hyannisport and us
kids would be flown from our
respective schools
to meet them. It was more like getting reacquainted
with strangers than meeting my
family. Everyone
was awkward and we really had nothing to talk about. I
went out in a boat we had there
and spent hours
alone, playing all by myself. I was estranged from my
brothers also because none of us
lived together so
when we came together we didn't know each other.
Usually by the end of the holiday,
we were friends
again -- like real brothers -- but then it would be
time to go back to our respective
schools and it
would start all over." Then he added, "I don't know why
I'm telling you this, you're just a
kid yourself and
wouldn't really understand." He looked shy and
vulnerable as he said, "I'm sorry for
telling you all
this."
I smiled and said,
"It's okay." It seemed to be the fact that I
listened and couldn't think to talk,
that made these men
feel good. All they really wanted was someone to
really listen.
JFK never caused
physical injury to me. He wasn't violent, just
aggressive sexually but never
brutal like his
brother Ted. JFK liked all kinds of sex. He liked
things varied, nothing routine. He got
bored easily and
asked for new things all the time. We had sex in many
places. He got high on taking
risks ...the
riskier the better. We even had sex in a public bathroom
somewhere in DC. On those
occasions, the
Secret Service Agents were doubly mad at him. They would
totally freak out and say to
him, "We could
loose our jobs when you pull one of your little
disappearing stunts." And they would be
really upset,
sweating and nervous because as they explained, they'd
been running all over the city
looking for where
he had ducked them. Jack just told them to relax,
that he was fine and that they still
had their jobs.
I went on late
night walks with JFK in DC. Sometimes the cherry
blossoms would be in bloom and
it smelled so
sweet. The Secret Service agents followed close behind
us. They seemed irritated to be on
duty for JFK
because he was so uncooperative and unpredictable. We
walked by a river or waterway. He
really enjoyed
seeing it at night and said the exercise did him good.
The Secret Service agents
complained of being
tired and hated having to get up at 1:00 or 2:00
a.m. to go outside with him. But
when the President
left, they had to go with him. I don't know where
Jackie was, but she wasn't always at
the White House the
nights I was brought in. Jack would sneak me to his
room and supposedly no one
knew I was there.
Like I explained, he loved taking risks.
Sometimes I had
difficulty understanding exactly what Jack was saying
because of his accent and
at other times, I
wouldn't be able to hear for awhile from the noise of
the helicopter or plane I had been
flown in on. My
hearing would feel muffled, like I had earmuffs on.
I felt so much
older than my young years, but then I was totally
physically developed by the 5th
grade (ten years of
age). The personalities that were created to be
with JFK were created to be older and
more mature than my
actual years.
During my years at
Hale Jr. High School there were times Henry
Kissinger preprogrammed and
sent me in with a
message to deliver while I was prostituted to JFK. I
was a cheerleader and was
prostituted to the
boy's coach along the way. I had a group of girl
friends that were part of my Girl Scout
Troop and one of my
friends was named Beth. I wasn't ever allowed to go
to boy-girl parties, but I went
86
to a lot of
sleepovers. Many times I didn't end up staying overnight,
but was instead shuffled off for a
quick rendezvous to
the White House or to Massachusetts or wherever the
higher ups wanted me to go to
be with JFK.
I called him
"John-Feeee" (pronounced "John F.E."). Craig was
"president" of the Student Body
and it may have
been a cover for my White House presidential use.
Beth's mother was
an attractive petite blonde woman and she was hardly
ever home. I think
Beth's father was a
pilot and maybe her mom was a stewardess, but she
was gone most of the time. Beth
had older sisters
though and so they counted as adults in my protective
mother's eyes, so I was allowed
to spend the night
when Beth's mother was not at home. One day I walked
home from school with Beth,
as she lived very
close to Hale. We messed around and listened to
records, and then, suddenly, I became
upset and told her
I wanted to go home. She said her mom wasn't there
to drive me and she didn't want
me to go home, but
I called a number from her kitchen phone and a
yellow checkered taxi came to the
house and picked me
up. Beth followed me out the door crying and said,
"Do you want me to call your
mom?"
"No, I'll be home
in a minute anyway." I handed the driver a note I had
in my overnight bag and
he took it from
there. I was driven to LAX. The airport was much
smaller in those days, but still busy on
Friday's and
weekends with lots of traffic. The driver dropped me off
in front of TWA and asked if I
needed any help. I
said no, I was fine. I walked up to the desk and
told the woman my name, "Sharon
Weatherby," and she
had a ticket waiting for me. She asked if I knew
where to go and pointed me in the
direction of the
gate.
I usually flew TWA,
United, or Continental on national flights - not
international - and I even had
a little pin with
wings, that a pilot who knew me gave me because he
said I was an honorary stewardess.
He had sex with me
on the way back from assignments but no one had sex
with me before JFK. There
were usually pilots
on commercial airlines that were "regulars," which
meant they knew me and were
instructed to keep
me under their wing. Sometimes I helped the pilot on
flights, but usually I slept up in
first class. I
think one of these pilots could have even been my
friend's father, and he was told to keep an
eye on me. I
usually curled up in first class and slept for the long
flight. When I arrived at the airport in
DC, I was met by
different people. This time it was a blonde lady in a
uniform and she walked me out to a
waiting black limo
and opened the back door for me to get in. I did and
she put my bag in next to me.
This was before I
met Craig so I was eleven or twelve years old, going
on twenty-five.
I wasn't taken
directly to JFK but was taken to the area where they
operated the "Lincoln
Memorial Shuttle"
(oral sex ride). A limo pulled up and I was whisked
into the back of it. Once inside I
saw that "JohnFeee"
was there and he said hello and began tickling me.
He played with me and teased
me a lot. Then he
pulled me over close to him and said, "Now it's time
to be more serious." And he
started kissing me
and slipped his hand inside my shirt and felt my
breasts. Then he unfastened my bra
and pulled my shirt
up and began sucking on my nipples. He said that
really got him hard to see young,
firm breasts and he
circled my nipples with his fingers. I didn't like
it when I saw his wedding band on
his hand while he
was doing that to me because even under mind control,
I knew who his wife was.
Henry had told me
to emulate her and so I felt bad... like here was
this innocent, beautiful woman and I
was having sex with
her husband and there was a feeling of guilt--even
under mind control.
That day, JFK took
sexual initiative and liked being in charge. Before
he closed the window and
left us alone, the
driver had said to him, "Jack, don't you think we
should connect back up to your
security?" meaning
the Secret Service.
JFK said, "No. Hell
no. I deserve to have a life." And so we toured
around the city while "John-
Feee" got himself
warmed up--sucking and licking me all over and I gave
him a "preview" of the coming
event by way of
oral sex, backing off just before he orgasmed. He loved
to run his tongue over my belly
because he said, "I
love young, firm, tummies," and he loved mine
especially because he said it was so
tan. He said I had
a "golden tan."
87
After awhile, JFK
tapped on the inner window in the limo to get the
driver's attention and said,
"Stop here."
The driver said,
"Here, Sir?"
JFK commanded,
"Yes," and opened the door and grabbed my arm and took
me into this small
motel. He already
had the key to a room and went right to it and opened
the door. It wasn't a very nice
place but he said
we wouldn't be looked for there, that "certainly no
one would come looking for the
President in a
place like this," and then he laughed, lit up a
cigarette and sat down at the small table and
chairs. Taking a
puff off his cigarette he said he wanted to take a
break to "enjoy the view" and indicated
I was to take off
my clothes in front of him.
Slowly, I began
removing my blouse and then my skirt, bra and then my
nylons attached to my
lacy garter belt
and then my panties. I had on those plain white ones
and for some reason he liked them,
so Henry had me
wear them with him. Then I stuck my finger into my
vagina while I had one leg
propped up on the
bed and the other holding me up. Then I put my
fingers to my mouth and that's when
he jumped up and
came over to me and said, "You're a big tease."
I smiled
seductively and he put his arms around me and held me for a
long moment and then
when he moved back
I began unbuttoning his shirt. It was a bit stiff
like it was heavily starched and then
I rubbed his chest
and belly and talked to him about how his hairy
chest and hard belly turned me on. I
put my fingers in
my mouth again. He said, "I'd like to be where those
came from." I can remember his
accent so well. He
laid me back on the bed after he pulled the sheets
back and he began oral sex. I told
him how hot I was
for him and began wiggling and moving all over, while
I moaned. He said I was
making him dizzy
and he came up and began kissing me passionately,
hard, almost roughly. Then he
went inside me and
satisfied himself. After he came he pulled back and
said, "Sorry it couldn't have been
longer, but I've
got to get back." So he dressed and stepped outside
the door and whistled. The driver
came right up to
the door. He went out and opened the door for me, and
we got into the limo and left.
The driver dropped
him off at another limo to a bunch of Secret Service
agents all in a tizzy over where
he had gone. He
shut the door and walked into the center of them
without saying goodbye or
acknowledging me.
These agents were
really angry with him. I could see him using his
hands and speaking to calm
them down. JFK
escaped from his Secret Service agents often. I heard
one of them say one time, "I don't
know how he does
it, one slip and he's gone."
The driver put the
window back up and drove me directly to the airport.
I picked up my bag and
he let me out and
said, "Will you be needin' anything, ma'am?"
I smiled and said,
"No thanks, I have everything I'll need." And I went
to the ticket counter and
said, "You're
holding a ticket for me? Sharon Weatherby?"
Handing me my
ticket the man smiled and said, "Your gate's in that
direction."
Henry had me think
of the gate numbers as the numbers on billiard balls
and all I had to do was
follow the line of
numbers until I got to the one that matched my
ticket. Sometimes I got lost but
someone always
helped me, often saying, "Excuse me, miss, but are you
lost?"
I'd say, "I'm
looking for gate eight," and they would point me in that
direction. Once I got onto the
airplane it seemed
like there was always someone there to watch over me
and I would go back to sleep.
The return
synchronization between my mother and me had to be perfect
and this time I was driven back
to Beth's house to
wait by the curb for my mother.
The driver said,
"Just sit here and wait, your mother will be here any
minute." He pulled away
from the curb and
went and parked nearby. I saw him watch until my mom
picked me up. She, too,
always waited for
me to get picked up when she dropped me off at
places. Everyone always waited to
make sure the
exchange had taken place and I was in the correct hands.
88
JFK was my first
presidential assignment. After having sex with Bob
Hope in his 50's, a younger
President wasn't as
bad. Sharon was the personality programmed to be
with JFK and due to the reality
that was created
for her, she had a lot in common with him, like being
Catholic and from an elite family.
One time Bob
arranged for him to have some time out with me in Key
Biscayne. Bob flew me there to
take care of him,
keep him happy and entertained. The Secret Service
agents stood outside. JFK started
by shaving and I
sat on the counter and watched him. I giggled and
hugged him while he stood in front of
the mirror with a
small white towel around his waist. I licked the
shaving cream off his ear and then put
my fingers into the
remaining shave creme and licked it. Gently, he
took my hands away and laughed
softly as he
explained that you weren't supposed to eat shaving cream.
I thought it was whipped cream,
like I had tasted
in the pornography I was filmed in, and mistakenly
was triggered into reciting my
program, "Lick it
and suck it, 'til it's all gone, yum, yum don't miss
a drop, or you will stop; your heart
that is." This must
have been a program glitch because I wasn't suppose
to recite this program out loud;
it was supposed to
just drive me from inside. Maybe JFK knew how to
handle me nicely because of his
sister who seemed
like she was retarded. They didn't let her out much,
and later I was glad when they
didn't have her at
their reunions, because I didn't understand what was
wrong with her.
During this time, I
wasn't allowed to eat as much sugar as I had been
previously used to. I was
told to be repelled
by it and that, even as my hand reached for it, the
sugar would move away and I
couldn't ever get
it so I should quit trying. Before this programming I
was used to eating tons of sugar, so
it was a major
adjustment. Also, my mother used to get so angry with me
for not eating enough at
mealtimes, but I
couldn't, as my programming dictated. She said I
didn't eat enough to keep a bird alive.
But when I tried to
eat I usually felt sick.
Catholic girls had
to act proper and Jack never had any cause to be
embarrassed by my actions.
He was spunky and
aggressive and tickled me a lot, often until tears
were falling down my cheeks. Then
he would lay me on
the bed, kiss my tears away and start having sex
with me. He said he liked my short
hair - that it was
stylish - and he would play with my hair and mess it
up. I'd just get it done again; in
those days I didn't
even know how to do my own hair. I never had to, my
own personal hairdresser, a
family friend, came
to the house and washed it, cut it, curled and
styled it.
Afterwards, JFK and
I ran around naked, playing like school kids, and
when it got dark we walked
on the beach and
the Secret Service agents always walked close behind.
Boy did they get an eyeful. They
would wink at me
sometimes if I turned around to see if they were still
there, when I was getting ready to
make a move on
John-Feee.
One night, Henry
let me off at the White House to target JFK. I didn't
go up to his bedroom, we
had sex in a room
near the kitchen that had two beds in it. I had on a
short white crop top and low hip
hugger jeans. My
belly button showed and he said it turned him on. He
would stoop down and lick my
"bare spot," he
called it. His pronunciation sounded funny to the
personality dedicated to him because of
his accent. I was
tan and slim, and he said he liked that my tummy was
flat. He said he hadn't had such a
flat one in awhile
and it turned him on. After we had a quick sexual
encounter, I had to hurry to get my
clothes on and exit
real fast. He would open the door and look down the
hall to see if the coast was clear.
Then he would say,
"Okay, now." And, I would run down the hall, out the
door and down the steps to
Henry waiting for
me in the limo smoking his cigar. He would usually
say something derogatory about
JFK and tell me to
button my clothes correctly. My bell bottoms had
buttons on the front and if I was
rushed I had
trouble getting them buttoned right. I was always skipping
a button. Henry would look
down at my buttons
and tell me to straighten up. Then I would button
them correctly. I couldn't help
that JFK had rushed
me - I think he enjoyed that part as much as the
sex. He seemed to like the
adrenaline rush.
There was a very
close call on another night. Jackie was down the hall
calling out, "Jack, Jack,
Jack!" Looking
surprised, he grabbed me and put me in the closet, fixed
the bed and answered her
89
quickly before she
opened the door. You could hear the sound of her
shoes when she veered off the
hallway runner and
onto the wood floor. I was in the closet when she
came in the room and asked, "Jack,
what are you doing?'
I heard him laugh
and say he was looking for John-John's shoe. He said
one was missing. Jackie
asked him to come
upstairs and he told her he would just look for a
while longer and then he would be
up. This guy
actually let his wife out of the room, pulled me out of
the closet and started having sex with
me again, this time
with more passion than ever before. He seemed to
thrive on the risk factor. When I
left, the Secret
Service agents usually walked me from the White House
down the block to a waiting limo,
unless Henry was
waiting for me outside.
Henry was cultured.
There were little blue vases with flowers in the
back of his shiny black car.
They had a little
light next to them and you could see the flowers in
the dark. If after one of these
escapades I began
talking silly and sexual, Henry would give me the
sign to hush up by simply buttoning
or zipping his lips
and then I knew to be silent and obedient. I could
be turned off or on, volume up or
down. I ran very
mechanically like a Rolls Royce. Henry didn't like
noise or children so he created me to
be quiet and
dignified. As I grew older it wasn't as hard because I was
more fully trained and didn't get
my personality
switching messed up. I got used to being silent with
Henry. But it was a difficult
transition after I
was in the presence of JFK because he was wild and
noisy, and his playfulness put me
in the same frame
of mind, until Henry toned me down.
Why JFK and His
Brother Really Got Shot
JFK had ties to
Frank Sinatra and his group. I was shared around all
these type groups because of
Bob's and Henry's
influence. The Kennedy’s were highly mob
connected, especially Bobby, as surprising
as that might seem
for the family man image he projected. JFK took a
mob dispute with him clear to the
White House and
attempted to use his political power as President to
shut down his enemies. He
publicly appeared
to go after the Mob, but he was interested in
shutting down only one enemy faction.
But he had to
publicly say he was going after all underworld crime in
order to be able to legally do what
he tried to do:
dismantle the Mob that opposed the Kennedy family clan.
I overheard Joe Kennedy
yelling at JFK at a
family reunion when he was President. He told him
to stop messing with the Mob, to
leave it alone,
that he didn't know what he was doing. It was shortly
after that that Joe Kennedy had a
stroke or brain
seizure, and Rose blamed Jack for causing it.
Joe Kennedy was
very happy with the marriage of Jackie to Jack because
Jackie brought with her
a faction of mob
that would help build up Jack and the future Kennedy
dynasty. At least that's what I
heard him say. Joe
Kennedy was big on mob connections, like his friend
J.P. Morgan, who was an
important mob buddy
and supporter. They supported each other.
As Joe Kennedy got
weaker, the tight rein of coexistence he held with
the Mob began to loosen
and his sons became
sloppy and careless, and didn't take seriously the
rules of the Mob. Like Uncle
Frank (Sinatra)
said, "You don't ever try to go against the Mob or
you'll wind up in the morgue or worse
yet, sleeping with
the fishes." I was born into Uncle Charlie's mob
connection and he heavily influenced
my life because of
his arms, munitions and drug connections all over
the globe. These were some serious
connections that
made him sought after by members of the Council. In
those days, the Mob made the
money and powerful
connections. Different mobs supported each other
like allies from foreign countries
do. They were the
power behind the Council, initially - the connections
that allowed the Council to get
such a toehold, as
the mobs worked cliqueishly for or against one
another. The Mob provided important
funding in the
early years, but later the Council took away much of
their power over monopolies when
the Council
outstripped them of their power through intelligence and
outsmarting them with technology.
90
The Mob couldn't
begin to compete. In the beginning the Council knew
how to work the different
factions of the Mob
for the Council's benefit and gain. Once the
Council attained the strength they
needed to get over
the hump and into the big money, they outsmarted the
Mob with their mind control
technology and were
then able to control the Mob. It was a game of
intellect and the Council woncheckmate!
Joe Kennedy,
William Randolph Hearst, J.P. Morgan and others were part
of a powerful
underground group.
They created their own revenue and their own
justice, and they knew how to play by
the rules to stay
alive and in the game, but the rules suddenly changed
with the power created by the
Council as they
utilized the Mob's success and made it their own.
People like Jack (JFK) didn't play by
the new rules so
they got snuffed.
Often when I was
sent in to target JFK, I would be loaded with messages
from the different
mobsters like Uncle
Frank (Sinatra). I gave instructions for JFK to do
some favor for the Mob or else, he
was told, "the
small, sweet favors will dry up." JFK scared me because
he always laughed and acted like
he didn't take the
messages with the seriousness I believed they
carried. I had seen Uncle Frankie in
operation and he
had friends, lots of them, who killed people for
nothing much at all, and I was afraid
that if JFK didn't
listen and do as they said that they would kill him,
too. But he didn't seem the least bit
concerned about
them ...ever. I took them even more seriously after JFK
was killed. Then I knew they
weren't joking but
were very serious and meant what they said about
doing everything they said or be
killed.
I heard Uncle Frank
talk often about people's positions in the Mob. He
talked to lots of Mob
buddies in front of
me. I was used for dangerous connections and, as
far as Frank and Dean Martin were
concerned, I knew
far too much, so they wanted me to "sleep with the
fishes." But Henry wouldn't hear
of losing his
"personal computer" and threatened serious retaliation if
they harmed me. Henry had a new
kind of power that
the Mob didn't understand at first, until they got
burned a few times. Then they
understood. But
some serious action had to be taken to prove this
power, like, as I overheard, "the
assassination of a
President and his big mouth brother who just
wouldn't listen," in order for the Mob - a
strong political
faction of it - to see where the new power lie, so
they would know to back off. By then the
banks and
newspapers were taken over and reorganized by the Council and
their constituents, and HIGH
LEVEL TECHNOLOGY
took over - something the Mob knew nothing about. It
took the wind out of their
sails. This was
happening during the 60's and early 70's, when I was
only a teenager approaching early
adulthood, and
listening and recording everything I heard per
instructions from my boss, Henry
Kissinger.
One day in his
office, Henry said, "You won't be servicing him (JFK)
much longer. The higher ups
have some alternate
plans for him." At the time I felt he meant death.
Henry said, "This will lock you in
for life." Later,
they used JFK's death on me heavily.
When JFK was killed
I was in junior high school and my controllers told
me, "If we can take out
the President
without anyone knowing, who would miss the likes of you?"
They told me I was
dispensable, easily
replaceable, and that no one would ever miss me if
I were gone. To give me a clear
example the suited
man reminded me, "Does your mother even have a clue
where you are right now?
NO. So who would
miss you? Not even your own mother."
In order to insure
that I was under program and their total control
they continued the ritual
torture and trauma.
Then they tied the ritual trauma that occurred at
home or at the church across the
street from my
junior high school to songs or hypnotic commands, like
"If you try to begin to recall this
area of your mind,
you will immediately recall this horror scene,"
which they reminded me of in
complete detail, in
order to keep me terrified and programmed.
91
Most people are now
familiar with Marilyn Monroe's connection to the
Kennedy family and her
use with the
President. It has been said by insiders that Marilyn was
one of the first programmed
Presidential
models, created under mind control for sex with the
President and use in Hollywood
connections. While
I did not possess the physical beauty that Marilyn
Monroe did, I had the mind files
and all the right
connections to further my controller's interests.
For my assignments,
when I wasn't flown out of LAX, I left from Van
Nuys Airport, John Wayne
Airport, or local
helicopter pads that were atop buildings in Los
Angeles. My mother took me and picked
me up and nursed me
back to life if I was hurt or really messed up
mentally or psychologically. She
would try to make
me eat if I couldn't and she put me to bed. I was
usually so out of it from the food and
sleep deprivation
and electroshock done for "National Security
purposes" to keep memory of the events
safely away from my
conscious awareness, that I often couldn't think to
bathe, eat or get into bed to
sleep. My mom would
tell me what to do and the parts of me that
participated in these escapades always
felt so relieved to
be back in my clean bed at home. In my attempt to
create some semblance of safety
and security I
slept against the wall to remind myself I was in my own
bed and safe. That was, until my
father came into my
room at night-then the nightmare started all over
again. More than anything in the
world I wanted my
mother, or someone, to help me--to protect me--to
stop the nightmarish experiences.
But she never could.
I will do
everything in my power to stop these atrocities from
happening, so that my daughter, my
sons, and any
future children born into our family will not have to
suffer any longer. I am sure the Mob
with their huge
capacity for family love and loyalty will understand
and pardon this need I have. And to
Dr. Kissinger, Bob
Hope, UCLA, CIA, NASA, U.S. Department of Defense
and all those who participated
in my family's
high-tech programming, I ask that you honor this request
for my family's freedom and
safety. I will hold
you in prayer, asking God to show you the
ramifications of your actions.
"Be ye kind to one
another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even
as God for Christ's sake hath
forgiven you." --
Ephesians 4:3
92
Brice Taylor -
Thanks for the Memories
Chapter Seven: All
the way with LBJ
Lyndon Johnson was
a very tall and large man. He had a pocket watch on
a chain that he wore in
a high pocket in
his vest or coat, not in his pants. He wore glasses to
read. I remember him sitting at his
desk reading on
into the night. The rest of the room was dark except
for the light on the desk that he was
reading by. He
liked to wear his hat even when he was inside. He just
loved his hat. He told me his hat
was a Stetson and
that back where he came from it was the best... "Like
a Cadillac," he explained. His
clothes smelled of
cologne and his suits were often gray or brown and
he often wore boots. He wore big
white baggy boxer
shorts and they didn't ever look new, as one would
think a person in his position
would wear. He had
a bridge with a few false teeth on it, smoked a
cigar at times and other times he
puffed on a pipe.
On this occasion,
he kept me in the bed in the darkened hotel room
while he sat at the desk to
finish up reading
his papers. Then he turned off the light and came
over to the bed where I was tucked
in, wearing a
skimpy teddy. It was cold in the room. All Lyndon had on
was his boxers and brown socks.
He laid his clothes
by the table and chairs, and when he walked to the
bed he pulled his penis out of the
hole in his boxers
and pulled my head over to him. He commanded,
"Suck," while he pulled my hair to
bring me closer to
him. He stood, moaning with pleasure and then
complained that he was needing to
bend over too far
so I got up on my knees and finished. He gratified
himself in my mouth and liked to
watch me swallow.
Then LBJ climbed into bed and held me like I was a
teddy bear and asked me to rub
his back. One time
he had me get out of bed to get him a cigar. He
wanted me to light it but I wasn't very
good at it because
I was just a kid. I coughed a lot and nearly choked
to death, but I got it to him in bed
all lit. I handed
him the cigar and he said, "Thank you, little lady."
He usually called me that. He didn't
want to go to sleep
right away and had me turn the TV on for him. He
never took his socks off the whole
time.
One time when I was
with LBJ he asked me questions about school and
seemed to like to hear me
talk about it. He
also liked for me to wear my black and white saddle
shoes. I had very shiny patent
leather ones. This
was during the time I was still attending Hale
Junior High School. Lyndon liked that I
was very young. At
this time I was around 12 or 13 years old. I was
with him quite a few times.
Another time my
father took me to Texas on the flight back from Iowa.
That's when LBJ showed
me his Cadillac
convertible. He kept it parked in a separate garage
away from the ranch so it wouldn't get
so dirty. "Hell,
everything gets coated with dirt on the Ranch," he
said. He had on his dress-up cowboy
clothes and said
that "Lady B" was off at some china convention. He
drank beer in the car when we went
on a "joy ride," he
called it. I sat next to him and gave him a
"super-duper," which was complete oral sex
gratification. He
said, "Be careful, I don't want to get any on the
seat."
I laughed and
teasingly said to assure him, "I know. I'm an expert in
this area. Remember?"
"Well you sure do
have spunk, I'll say that for you," he replied. LBJ
smelled but not like body
odor; it was just a
strong male smell. He had his arm up over the back
of the seat and we only rode for as
long as it took to
satisfy his sexual urge. Then he took the car back
and had me keep my head down so no
one could see me. I
didn't go inside the ranch and when we got back he
said, "This is as far as you go,
little lady." I let
myself out of the car and slammed the door. "You
could have waited for my assistance,"
he said.
I laughed and said,
"I can do it myself." A suited man escorted me into
the back of a black sedan
that was waiting
under a tree at the front of the ranch and I was taken
away.
Another evening as
I waited for Lyndon, dressed scantily in a black
lacy bra, garter belt, black
nylons and red high
heels, he declared I was making smoke come out of
his ears and that, "it shore
93
wasn't from his
cigar." He wanted me to keep turning around and around
and around while he looked
at me. "My, my..."
he said, licking his lips and as he put his hand to
his mouth he continued, "My Lord,
what do we have
here?" The heavy stench of his cologne and
smokesaturated clothes followed him over
to me as he told me
to bend over the bed with just those garter belts
on and he stuck his penis in my
bottom and then
into my vagina but I had to give him oral sex in
between, "to clean it off," he explained.
It was disgusting
and vile, even under mind control. Then we had
intercourse and he liked it when I
made noises. He had
a cattle prod or some sort of electrical device
nearby but didn't use it much. When
he pushed the lever
it made a crackling sound and what emerged looked
like a jolt of yellow fiery-type
electricity. He
said he didn't have to use it with me much because I
was so good.
He asked me if I
liked what I did. I shrugged my shoulders and said,
"Yes," but due to the mind
control I was under
I was unable to really think about his question. He
told me he loved the young ones,
"...beautiful
little lady." He liked to kiss open mouth but he tasted
yucky like cigars. His private parts
smelled, too. But
then there was the cologne to cover up the smell. He
was pretty fat from my perception,
but big and tall.
Lyndon had a medium to small penis for his big body,
but he said he used it well. He
wasn't really hairy
and the hair on his head was thinning. He used
something like Vitalis on what was left
of his hair when he
combed it. I think maybe that is why he kept his
cowboy hat on all the time, even in
bed.
I usually slept all
night with him because he wanted me to. He slept
really close and held on to me.
I spent the night
and then in the morning I was taken home. When I was
in the 10'" grade, I spent the
night with him more
often - even sometimes on school nights. I didn't
go to school until 11:30 a.m.
anyway and no one
could ever seem to tell I had been gone. Sometimes I
missed a full day of school and
no one at Hale or
Taft High ever said anything to me. Another form of
trauma was added when one day
after school, I was
forced to watch as the men in suits roughed up my
junior high school principal.
I was taken to the
White House to be with Lyndon. One night he told me
all about this lady named
Agnes who he loved
before Lady B. That's what he called his wife, "Lady
B," instead of Lady Bird. He said
he never got over
Agnes, just couldn't forget her. He said Lady B fit
into his future plans and worked out
better but that he
just really loved Agnes. When he talked about Agnes
he had a goofy faraway look on
his face.
Lyndon told me his
wife had grown to act old early on in their marriage
when something of a
maternal nature
happened to upset her. He said from then on she wasn't
much for sex, so he took care of
his needs
elsewhere. He told me so much personal stuff that I think he
must have forgotten how young I
was. A lot of what
he told me I didn't really understand. But I
listened, apparently to his satisfaction,
because one day he
complimented me by saying, "You are a very good
listener, young lady."
Lyndon also liked
for me to cuddle on his lap while he fondled me in an
armchair as he watched
TV. He usually
covered me with a blanket. It made it more secretive and
he pretended people were
present in the room
with us watching but they didn't know what we were
doing. Then he would ask me if
I liked it.
I would smile and
was programmed to say, "of course," or, "do more,"
or, "you're so big." He loved
it all. I wore
Unforgettable perfume with him. It was pungent and
strong but he liked it. He especially
liked sex when I
was menstruating - he said it turned him on. He liked
to do all sorts of perverted things
to me during that
time, which I don't feel comfortable sharing here. He
also suggested that I do whatever
I usually did for
the cameras and take charge of our sexual activity.
"You're in charge of the whoring,
little lady," he
would say as he smiled and tipped his hat. That hat
was such an important thing to him.
He talked to me a
lot and told me all kinds of stories over the time he
was President. He liked for
me to call him
"Prez." He said when I called him Lyndon it made him
feel guilty about Lady B so he said
to call him Prez
and I did as he commanded.
94
Sometimes he wore
those dumb elastic things to hold his socks up like
Bob (Hope) did. He looked
so ridiculous
wearing those dumb socks, his boxers and his hat, while
he sat and smoked. He must not
have cared what he
looked like. The room was always kept pretty dark.
He said he was most comfortable
like that, but my
eyes would adjust to the dark and I could still see
how silly he looked. The teen
personality
programmed to be with him during those times was respectful
and performed as her
programming
dictated, but through her teenage eyes, felt he was just a
dork.
I did things that
made him laugh. They were really dumb things but he
seemed to like them. Like
once I pulled my
hair over and around and onto my upper lip and
scrunched my lip up, pinching the hair
under my nose to
make it look like a mustache. Silly things made him
laugh.
He tested my
programmed capabilities. He burned me with a cigar one
time, because he said he
was told to try it
to see what happened. He looked pretty amazed when I
took off my clothes, sat down,
got into position
and told him to go ahead and stick it in, that it
wouldn't burn me. So he pressed his
cigar to my vagina
and it didn't burn me. The pain didn't even register
- "it didn't even hurt," is what I
told him. That made
him turned on and he said, "Little lady, you give
me a big boner." He told me there
was an endless
stream of young ladies who liked his "big boner."
He liked the song
that goes, "I'm a long tall Texan, and wear a 10
gallon hat." He also liked Born
Free and Burt
Bacharach's Raindrops Keep Fallin' on My Head and Blue,
Blue, My World is Blue. He
also liked hot dogs
and hamburgers, but hot dogs best. And he told me
he liked dachshunds, those little
wiener dogs. I
often felt like a dog with him because he was always
patting my head. I joked with him
about it and
started barking when he patted me. I could really get
off-the-wall with him and he seemed to
love it. He laughed
and laughed like Nixon and Reagan did at the silly
things I was programmed to say
and do. I don't
know if he was aware that I had been programmed with
most of the jokes.
The men in suits
usually took me to him at a hotel. They put me in the
room to wait for him. I'd
say the suits were
the Mob, but Secret Service agents waited outside
the door once the Prez got there.
Once we were alone
I was programmed to say, "Hey Prez, got a big boner
for my little pussy
today?" He would
get all excited and start kissing and licking me.
Yuck, it was gross. But it was the
saddle shoes that
really got him every time. He liked me to wear my
school-type clothes and so I did. I
was helicoptered
from somewhere near Woodland Hills. Usually I was not
flown in on a big commercial
airline to see
Lyndon. I don't know why but it was usually private
planes. Then I would sleep with him all
night and be flown
back to California. There were times when, after I
was used, the men in suits would
let me out of the
car near school and I would have my school clothes on
from the day before, and I would
just walk to school
and go in like nothing had ever happened.
One time when I was
sent to Lyndon, somehow I ended up wearing the St.
Christopher metal that
my programmed
boyfriend Craig had given me for going steady. The men in
suits would have normally
taken away any
personal item of this nature, but for some reason they
missed my necklace this time.
Johnson examined it
and asked me what it was. Unable to think to lie, I
told him it was a necklace my
boyfriend gave me.
Immediately he looked depressed. So I climbed into
his lap and told him not to worry
that my boyfriend
couldn't hold a candle to him and that I was forced
to be with my boyfriend, but that I
choose to be with
him. He smiled, pulled his hat down over his face,
and leaned back in his chair
ordering, "a blow
job a-la-carte." So I performed as commanded. He said
most women didn't love it the
way I did.
Lyndon thought
Texans were the best and most powerful type of men. I
was taken to Texas to be
used sexually by
the Prez at a cabin or ranch out in the middle of
nowhere. It had fences and horses and
a woodcabin type
house, but there were hardly any trees or greenery,
like in California. The cabin was
95
wood inside and he
had a lamp that was made out of a bootleg. He loved
it and I teased him about it,
"Who's leg ya' got
there holding up that light?" On a table there was a
picture of Lady B that had been
taken at the Ranch.
We had sex there on occasion, because, as he
explained, it was a place he could go
and not be seen or
bothered by anyone. The Secret Service could guard
him well there since there was
nothing else around
and no one had any business going there unless they
knew LBJ and had been
invited. Despite
the security there, LBJ often wore a small gun
strapped to his leg by his boot. He said he
enjoyed carrying
it. He waltzed me back to his room, to the bed he
shared with his wife. He said, "By
sleeping here with
you, when I'm f- -king the little lady, you can bet
I'll be thinkin' of you."
There were white
limos with Johnson. He liked oral sex when we rode in
the back. He made the
Secret Service
agents ride up with the driver instead of in the back
with him and he would have them
close the tinted
window behind the driver. He told them he didn't want
to be disturbed because he and
the "pretty little
lady were going to have a nice quiet chat," which in
actuality was a sexual encounter.
Usually he was
being driven to some location and upon reaching his
final destination would debark the
limo, leaving me in
the back, or I would be kept waiting in the back
for more when he returned. He could
handle up to three
oral sex encounters a day without any problem. He
had his pocket watch on a chain in
his vest pocket and
would check the time to inform me if we were rushed
or not. Usually he would say we
were rushed which
meant I had to work quickly and get him aroused and
satisfied rapidly.
Later, he wanted me
to dance cowboy style with him and I tried but
wasn't very good. He said,
"Don't worry, you
know how to do the most important things - you've got
what counts." One day he gave
me an iris from an
arrangement on a hotel table. He bowed and did a
little dance as he held it out to me.
It was really out
of character for him.
At the end of "the
Prez's" administration, I was also filled with more
mind file information. I was
taken to different
offices in DC to be imprinted with more top secret,
classified data by a female
administrator.
LBJ also told me
that the White House was a very lonely place to live
and that he really wasn't
very happy there.
He said he was most at home in Texas at his ranch.
Occasionally he had meetings there
and other men were
present. I had to give oral sex to many of them. I
was usually there for one overnight
and then driven
back to town by limo, then flown home. Before I was put
on the plane to California, the
men in suits always
took me for a coke and french fries at McDonald's.
This was part of my programming
to believe I was at
McDonald's in California, so I wouldn't remember
where I really was. The fries and
coke were delicious
since my programming required that I was food
deprived before and during the time
of my use. Then the
men put me on the plane with the suggestion to
sleep and forget. Because of our
programming my mom
never noticed I was gone and neither did I ... not
until 1991 ... over twenty-five
years later.
"This, too, is
apart of "The Truth that will set you free. " -- John
8:32
Brice Taylor -
Thanks for the Memories, pp 61-63
96
Chapter Eight:
Brain Surgery at UCLA took away my Father’s
Free Will
Bethesda, Maryland
In my early teens,
one of the places I was taken to was a hospital in
Bethesda, Maryland. Two men
in suits met me at
the airport, drove me there and waited while a nurse
helped me out of the car and took
me into the
emergency room. I was doubled over in pain, having trouble
walking because the men in
suits had just
slugged me in the stomach. They told the old greyhaired
nurse in the pink uniform with the
little white apron,
that I had appendicitis and to take me immediately
into the emergency room. I don't
know why but the
men put a blond curly wig on me. I had on blue jeans,
tennis shoes and a T-shirt.
I was terrified and
couldn't help myself. The nurse took me in and
waved me through all the paper
work. Two doctors,
clad in full surgical garb met me at a door to
emergency surgery. They told the nurse
they'd take over
from there and laid me directly on an operating table
and put a mask over my face and a
needle in my arm. I
had needles put in my arms all the time so that
wasn't anything new, but it hurt.
They told me they
weren't who they appeared to be and then they put me
to sleep with some sort of
anesthetic, but
parts of me from inside watched and knew exactly what
was happening. There was great
fear that they
would really cut me open and take out my appendix when I
didn't need it taken out. But
instead, they put
electrodes on my forehead, temples and head, and
headphones on my ears that
delivered one sound
to one ear and another sound to the other. Then
they varied the sound volume,
quickly bringing
the volume up so loud that it was excruciatingly
painful. I felt like I would go crazy.
They kept
delivering electroshock to my head. Then they inserted
something into my vagina and shocked
me vaginally, then
shocked my head, and they kept that routine up for
what seemed like eternity. I could
smell the alcohol
and could feel when they put a cold scissors-like
thing up my nose. It tickled and
itched. Then a
doctor said, "It's in place."
Everything inside
of me felt psychedelic from the drugs they gave me.
There were lots of colors
and flashes of
light that caused a very unreal feeling. I don't know
how long I laid there. Eventually, they
called for a nurse
and told her to help me back out to the car. They
said that I checked out fine, that I
must have just
eaten something that made me sick. The nurse put my arm
around her neck and helped
me outside. I had
trouble walking but managed and she delivered me back
to the two men in suits.
They, in turn,
brought me to a darkened room all alone for awhile and
then hooked me up to some
of their own
equipment. I sat in a chair while they put a band around
my head and wrists, and shocked
me while I listened
to something they played through headphones on my
ears. I couldn't understand the
words I heard, as
they were all mixed up and it made me nuts to try to
understand. Then they unhooked
me and said it was
time to go home. I was put onto a military
helicopter with two rotors, one at the front
and one at the back
and transferred to another plane that didn't have
regular seats like a commercial
airplane. There
were just a few seats on either side and all sorts of
straps and equipment on the floor. I
laid on the floor
during the whole flight.
My mother picked me
up at the airport and I slept in the back seat of
our Cadillac all the way
home. She put me to
bed and I could hardly move. I was in lots of pain
and was nauseated, sick, and
exhausted for the
next two days. I couldn't eat or get out of bed. I
just slept it all off in a hazy, drugged
sleep. Mom just
thought I had the flu again.
There were lots of
times I was taken to places for programming. They
had all sorts of schemes to
get me to the
programming sites - even getting me to pull my car over
to the side of the road, after I
learned to drive. I
remember how one man told me to get out of the car,
while another man pulled my
hood up before
taking me away in an ambulance to Westlake Hospital.
Then they flew me from there to
wherever they
wanted me to go.
97
I remembered an
incident where I was on an operating table and I saw a
whole roomful of women
like me who were
also laying on gurneys with white sheets over them,
and we were all linked up together
through a single
wire. There were mirrors all around and while I was
deprogramming I realized that
these other women
were all parts of me; they all looked like me but had
different lives and different jobs.
That's what my
programmers told me in order to create and enforce my
multiple personalities.
Sometimes there
were groups of doctors or scientists watching from
chairs in a circular arena that
extended upward. In
this setting the doctors made presentations on
their findings in order to display the
research and show
their progress so they could get additional funding
or permission to do more mind
research into areas
they wanted to explore. The stage where I was being
tested and displayed to the
doctors in long
white lab coats was low and as I looked up there were
rows of ascending circular chairs in
the arena from
where they watched. Sometimes while I laid on the
gurney, they would shine lights into
my eyes and tape
them open so I couldn't avoid the lights. They blinded
me with one color for a long
time, like white,
and then added in another color like red or green. It
was painful, so I escaped like I had
been trained from
birth to do, into mental dissociation so I couldn't
feel the pain. Often they paired
electroshock with
the bright lights and music or word phrases. At
appropriate times, they displayed a
picture of Craig
onto a holder in front of me while I sat in a chair
that spun around and around. They
played love songs
while they spun me and when I came to a stop, I would
see the picture of Craig and feel
relieved. They told
me Craig was my lifeline and to sever a connection
with him was equal to death. Later
on in my life, they
did that sort of programming with my children's
pictures.
My Father Has Brain
Surgery
UCLA
Neuropsychiatric Institute 1967
The summer of my
16th year, our family physician, Dr. Stoddard referred
my father for brain
surgery to UCLA
Neuropsychiatric Institute. Dr. Robert Rand was the
Neurosurgeon who performed the
operation. My
father never had a chance. Suited men came to visit and
monitor us at crucial times. They
were always
watching and they gave him shots in his thighs and then
asked him questions over and over,
and told him what
to do with me. Very scary and frightening events
happened there to keep me further
under control. I
can only imagine what they did to my father's brain.
The day before his scheduled
surgery, a nurse
came into his room while the whole family was visiting
before surgery. He held out a box
and explained very
matter-of-factly that the hair in the box was my
father's, just shaved from his head,
and in the event
that he didn't make it through the surgery they were
keeping his hair to put back on his
head in his casket.
These insinuations, coupled with the ritual abuse I
had previously endured, were
enough to further
dissociate me. There were other horrifying events
performed to frighten me into
further
dissociation, creating even more control.
My mother and I
were told to wait in the hospital lobby until they came
to tell us the surgery was
over. They called a
code name for me over the loudspeaker and
responding to the call, I walked up to my
father's hospital
room. A doctor in a white coat met me in the room and
said he wanted me to enter the
surgery room and
watch. As I entered, I saw my father with his head cut
open, with tubes in him
everywhere; in his
head, in his nose, in his arm, and they told me that
my father would no longer hold
authority over me.
Now he was totally under their control and, now they
would be in total control of me.
Then they strapped
me into the bed next to him and gave me some sort of
gas through a mask they put
over my nose and
mouth. They told me to turn my head so I could watch
everything they did to him that
day - they took my
real father away from me and the doctor said that
they would be in charge of
everything that
happened to me and all my progeny from then on. I
didn't know what that meant, but I
knew it was bad.
They performed some sort of surgery on me, too. They
inserted something under my
nail bed and later
they told me they moved it somewhere else and I
would find places on my body with
skin flaps where I
figured they had put them in. They tested and
experimented with implant after
98
implant on me. With
some implants they were trying to see if they could
totally control me from a
distance.
Later when my
mother came to look for me, she found me sitting in my
father's room bent over
with my head down
to my knees, while a nurse standing by me explained,
"She fainted, that's all. She'll
be all right." My
father made it through surgery and was placed in
intensive care.
Soon after, my
controllers told me my father had died in the surgery,
that all I had to do was
remember how he
looked with his eyes closed to realize he was dead.
They told me that my 'real' family
would take over now
and that I needed to understand that it was really
best that way. And, although
everything
outwardly appeared to remain the same, nothing ever was
again. The life essence of my father
was totally gone;
he was not in control of himself any longer. My
brother Rick took over the family
business and I
began traveling more, internationally.
Months after my
father's release from the hospital, he came into my
room and sat down on the
floor next to my
bed while I was studying. Upset and very emotional,
which was very unusual for my
father, he said,
"Honey, big things are happening and I've lost control
of you." Tears were streaming
down my strong
father's face. I didn't know how to react. My macho
father never cried. I couldn't think
to question him or
to wonder just what it was he was trying to tell me.
So I let it go, along with hundreds
of other questions
and thoughts that any normal, unprogrammed daughter
would have thought to ask.
Institute Of Higher
Learning
Sometime later, I
was taken to a hospital in Montreal. My controllers
called it an "Institute of
Higher Learning,"
but instead of higher learning, I was put in a
hospital gown and kept drugged and in
restraints. A very
important French personality inside of me was
created and enhanced there. If I didn't
cooperate they put
me into a padded cubicle in the dark until I "came
to my senses" and began behaving
properly. I'd seen
over the years just what they had done to my father
and I couldn't take anymore. I had
nothing to lose by
not cooperating. From one of his personalities that
was 'in the know' and before brain
surgery took his
free will away, my father told me, "You don't have to
do anything they say honey, they
want to take your
mind." Years later as I retrieved pieces of my memory
that allowed me to see the bigger
picture, I
remembered numerous occasions when my father laid in
programs to help me exit my abuse.
He even gave me
suggestions to heal and bring my personalities
together. I've often wondered if this was
a more significant
contribution to my successful healing than I could
ever imagine.
"All that is now
hidden will someday come to light!" -- The Living
Bible.
99
Brice Taylor -
Thanks for the Memories
Chapter Nine: They
didn’t see me as Human
Sweet Sixteen
Bob Hope was one of
the first high-powered men Craig 'delivered' me to.
This, of course, was by
no means my first
meeting with Bob, but it was a test for Craig and the
first time my young 'handler'
would use the
programmed skills he learned to take me to my assignment.
For my 16t' birthday present
in 1967, Craig
surprised me with a trip, by train, to the San Diego Zoo
for the day. Consciously we were
programmed to be
committed to a non-sexual relationship, waiting for
our projected wedding date to
consummate our
marriage. At least that is why we thought we were only
spending the day, and not the
night in San Diego.
Due to our programming, neither of us had any
conscious awareness that anything
other than that was
occurring.
We boarded the
train, and after a while Craig delivered me to a private
car where Bob Hope,
Senator Alan
Cranston, and a couple of other men were waiting. Craig
left me with them and then
robotically left
the room. I had sex with each of them as the others
watched. They were all old men, even
in those days.
Later, Bob said he
had a little job for me to do and the next thing I
knew I was in a big office with
wooden floors and a
desk with an American flag beside it. When Bob
introduced me, I shook hands with
the man behind the
desk. He impressed me then as an important man, like
the President, but he wasn't.
Bob left me alone
with him. The man asked me all kinds of questions and
I told him that I had been
insurance company
bonded as a requirement of my Christmas employment in
a jewelry store. He seemed
to like that. He
also wanted to check out my body. Following his
instructions, I removed my clothes and
he 'checked' me all
over by feeling. He put his hand behind my neck and
pulled me over to him and
began kissing me.
This dark-haired
executive was much younger than Bob. He turned me
around facing away from
him and I could
hear the noise of the zipper as he unzipped his pants.
He pushed me over at the waist
and began having
sex with me from behind. He explained that he was
checking the fit. I didn't know
what that meant but
was very embarrassed, as evidenced by my red
cheeks. He commented on how he
liked it when I
blushed. He said it meant that I was naive and
innocent, and explained he liked them that
way. When he was
through 'questioning' me, he opened the door and went
and got Bob. He told Bob that
I'd be fine, that
he was very pleased, and went to his drawer, took out
a folder, and wrote out a check. He
carefully put the
folder away, handed Bob the check and said, "Here's a
check for the cause." I didn't
know what that
meant either but they shook hands and both seemed
pleased.
When we left in the
limo, I couldn't see where we were going, because
Bob pushed my head down
on a man's lap for
me to perform oral sex. The rest of the day was a
blur. I didn't know where my
boyfriend Craig
went or if I would ever see him again. I was exhausted
when we finally got 'home' and
that night I 'slept
away' all memories of this experience just like I
had been programmed to do.
During my teen
years, I remember Craig and I would lie around my
backyard pool for hours,
swimming, talking
and playing. At the time, that was all I consciously
remembered. But, when I woke up
to reality years
later and began recalling what fully happened, I
remembered Craig holding a small
brown bottle with a
dropper in it. He put some of the clear liquid from
the bottle onto a piece of celery
and peanut butter
and gave it to me to eat. After I did, everything
kept moving, like a movie, except each
frame was moving in
a fractured, uneven, hazed way. It was hard for me
to even walk to the pool. I bent
over, my stomach
cramping and everything was spinning. I wasn't suppose
to notice that he had given it
to me, but I did,
and later I remembered other tunes.
100
Happy Daze
By the time I
entered William Taft High School in Woodland Hills, my
life began to change even
more dramatically.
Due to the mind control I was under, I constantly
had a smile plastered on my face
whether I was happy
or not. The ritual abuse became minimal during this
time, done only on occasions
that were required
to maintain my mind control. Through a vast array of
the latest in human
programming
technologies, I was well on my way to becoming a total and
completely compliant, efficient
and multi-tasked
robot.
Looking back now,
high school felt like one big blur to me. I remember
having only one close
friend at a time,
and knowing that I was "popular" but never feeling
that way. Instead I felt ugly, stupid,
awkward, shy and
set apart from the other kids at school that were my
age. I was made part of the
Student Council so
that I would have a public school image. Often my
picture was posted on walls to
announce upcoming
events, or to announce contests I was entered into.
My presence leading and
organizing certain
school functions served to allow many of the
students to know who I was; yet very few
students really
knew me or were close to me. A whole strategy was
devised to keep me popular in the
eyes of my
schoolmates and most of the faculty by making me a continual
face or body by plastering
pictures of me all
over the school; yet, I was not in attendance on a
very regular basis. Henry said it was
for my protection,
so others would feel below me and many wouldn't even
approach me as if I was a
celebrity, and I
was instructed to "act" that way also. I was known in
school, without ever really
"knowing" anybody
because of the projected image that was publicly
created for me. I felt isolated and
alone, in a daze,
like I really didn't exist.
I was programmed to
act snooty and too good for people, to remain very
aloof. Yet I was deeply
locked into my own
inner world, constantly mentally working to keep all
data filed correctly in all the
areas Henry
created. I was so inwardly focused that I had a very hard
time in the physical world, hence
the reason my
mother did everything for me at home. Henry told me to
spend all my time tending to the
mental files. And
while my mother did all the domestic chores, I did as
Henry commanded, often floating
on a raft in our
backyard swimming pool, sorting mind files all the
while in a trance state. I had many
mental exercises
Henry assigned for me to perform at home. The system
he created and used during my
16th to 22nd years
was extensive and required mental work to keep
organized, cleaned and neat. Henry
said it took mental
muscle to keep the files in complete order.
I was elected Vice
President and then President of the Girl's League
Association at school, and was
part of the Student
Government. I was voted 'Princess' at the prom, was
paraded in a convertible at a
football game and
had my picture pasted all over the school for fashion
shows and contests I was in. But,
I never felt like I
belonged; I just felt like a robot, living in a
complete fog, and looking back that is
exactly what I was.
As Girl's League
President, I was in charge of a fashion show that was
called "Tivoli Gardens," a
foreign affair that
was so named in order to scramble a lot of the
international work I was doing with
Henry abroad. They
even used times I was supposedly buying flowers in
downtown Los Angeles at the
flower mart as a
scramble. My mother reluctantly accompanied me on the
stage at the fashion show to
introduce the
models. She was so shy and embarrassed but she did it for
me because I asked her to.
Henry had already
taught me to see the audience in totality as one
person I was comfortable speaking
with and to begin
my speech as if the two of us were alone. And I was
instructed to wear my speaking
dress to give me
confidence and poise. Armored with these inner
crutches, I could speak with no
hesitancy, no
shyness, and no apparent problem at all.
I also spoke
publicly for Henry at other occasions where he would load
me up and book me a time
slot on stage.
Sometimes it was a debate between fellow robots on
political issues but I wasn't trained
101
like they were - I
was trained only to deliver. Many others were adroit
at debating, but I wasn't. So I'd
go up on stage,
deliver my pre-programmed speech, everyone would clap
and later Henry would say I did
a great job. But I
had to have on my speaking dress, and no matter what
I was really wearing, it became
"my speaking
dress." If he was present, Henry commented before I went
on, "My, you look lovely in your
speaking dress,"
and then my speech would be internally engaged and I'd
be ready to deliver. I
performed in these
ways for many "show your latest technology in
robots" shows. After I passed those, I
got to move on to
more diplomatic matters.
Henry used me to
warm up groups that his constituency was going to
speak to and I often wore
several different
disguises and always looked different. Henry was the
puppeteer and I was his puppet
and at anytime he
wished, he could pull my strings and make me change
into a different puppet, with a
different face with
which to meet the public. And like Mr. Potatohead,
he could order what kind of face
he wanted me to put
on. "Squint your eyes a bit, curl up the ends of
your mouth, flair your nostrils, pull
your jaw
forward"...all sorts of different facial mannerisms and
contortions that I was programmed to
perform, combined
with wigs, glasses, body padding, hats, etc. It was
all quite effective as I played my
role creating
different faces to present to the public. Not many people
know about this technology yet
and Henry said we
had a definite edge on the others. He said that it
was always important for us to strive
to reach greater
and greater knowledge and awareness, to stay ahead of
the pack in being the first, the
best, and the
brightest in our latest endeavors. He was constantly
experimenting with me and adding
things like
archival information and classified documents, in order to
have the latest information to draw
from.
Henry said, "You're
the leader of the pack in this diplomatic endeavor
and as such we will
continue to update
your system in order to insure that you stay "the
leader of the pack." In a hypnotic
session, he said to
me, "Each and every time you hear the song, "Leader
of the Pack," on the radio, you
will think of the
motorcycle bikers only and will remain in the dark
otherwise." The word "dark" was
internally linked
in my system to all sorts of ritual horrors and
terrors, thereby plunging this information
that was
subliminally linked to it deeply into the recesses of my
subconscious mind. I could not
consciously
retrieve it; yet it ruled my actions. In this way the
ritual tortures that I had endured as a child
and as a young
adult at my church were linked to these other memories.
They tied the ritual trauma to
these memories by
saying, "If you begin to recall such and such, you
will immediately recall the ritual,
and they would go
into great detail to remind me of the tortures that
happened at those rituals. They
used the ritual
tortures on and off at strategic, necessary times to
either bring to the forefront an old
group of
personalities, or to create a new group. A traumatic ritual
could effectively create a whole new
group of alternate
personalities, since it was such an extensive
trauma. Henry often spoke to his
colleagues on this
subject, advising them when and where to use trauma.
Henry consulted with other
men who needed
guidance as to how to create and maintain a robot or
group of them, as in Bob Hope's
case.
Bob had a whole
group within me, eight personalities at one time, but
Henry advised him to cut it
down to four
because he said he couldn't effectively maintain that many
until the level of technology
rose, allowing for
more of the programming and maintenance to be
performed by machine rather than
by man. Henry said
my prototype was not new but was highly expanded and
more technical and he was
building on an
older model of a sex robot and mind computer prototype,
combining them within me in
hopes of expanding
technologies and coming up with a more versatile
workable model. He actually
viewed me as a
machine.
Dr. Olmstead, our
principal, gave me orders in his office. When he did
I would go into robotic
receiving mode and
record all the data he gave me. I transferred what
was appropriate to my blue inner
calendar and filed
the rest of the information into the suggested files
for use at the correct time. My
Student Government
(Student Council) teacher, Saul Rowen, would drive
me, to catch a plane or, more
often, to a
helicopter port where I was then transported to a
government approved shuttle plane to
102
Washington, DC or
New York. Usually I was taken to Nixon for sex and to
straighten out his often
dour attitude and
then to Henry and the research team for further
instruction.
Back home Dr.
Stoddard prescribed a continuous supply of the antibiotic
Tetracycline. He said I
had to take the
medication so I would not have pimples. I never was
able to question this at the time,
could not think to,
but realized later on, as I healed and integrated,
that I never suffered from any type of
acne and must have
been given this antibiotic to insure I did not
infect the government leaders with any
"social diseases."
He also prescribed mood elevators and mild
tranquilizers for me during times when I
was extremely
depressed as a teenager. These helped to keep me "happy."
During the times I was being
used by others,
they utilized personalities that were cheerful and
energetic, so my moods were never a
problem. Dr.
Stoddard also gave my father shots of testosterone to
boost his sexual desire.
Looking back, my
high school years had a very unreal feeling to them. I
didn't eat much in those
days, in obeisance
with programming, and was very thin like the popular
model of the time, Twiggy. I
had programs in
place that guaranteed that my physical body would
maintain a perfect size 6, or less,
and usually in
those days I wore a size 2 or 4. If I ate very much I
became nauseated and could eat no
more. When I went
for a few days without eating while I was on
assignment, my stomach shrank and so
it was difficult to
eat much, plus I would often be very sick and
shaking from the high voltage I was
subjected to. My
mother often got into my twin bed next to me and held
and rubbed me to get my body
to calm down. She
also kept saying, "You're home honey, you're home."
My body often convulsed and I
had dry heaves but
after I slept I was usually better.
Rocketdyne/Rockwell
International
Ken Golliher was a
nuclear physicist and a Mason who was respected as
'the brains' behind a lot of
scientific plans or
inventions while employed at Rocketdyne in the
Woodland Hills area. He worked with
Ellsworth Ford,
Craig's father, who was plant engineer, and Mary, the
women I've previously mentioned,
our neighbor who
for many years was my 'second mother.' Ken's daughter
Shelly was a member of the
young women's
Masonic organization, Job's Daughters, and attended the
same school as Craig. Through
their friendship I
came to know her.
But it wasn't until
some twenty-five years later that I began
remembering Ken Golliher, adorned
with a white lab
coat, white hard hat and goggles, waving me through
the security guard at the front
guard gate at
Rocketdyne. From his lab coat pocket hung a plastic badge
with his picture and other
information on it.
I don't know what he told them to gain entrance for
me, maybe that I was his daughter
or something.
Anyway, they let me through the security gate driving my
family's old '57 Chevy. I must
have been around
sixteen years old.
Once inside the
building, Ken showed me the monkeys in a cage and one
monkey was sitting in a
chair with its
little head screwed into a metal framework that wrapped
around his skull. Ken told me it
didn't hurt the
monkey at all. Before I knew it, I was strapped into a
chair, with electrodes positioned on
my head. They told
me that I was strapped in so I wouldn't move around.
Ken was an excellent
photographer and
before me was a slide screen. At first I was shown
slides of nature scenes like flowers
with bees on them
and then they began flashing technical slides with
pictures of moon landings,
instrumentation
information, satellite diagrams, craft designs,
mathematical equations and all sorts of
technical
information. There were slides of page after page of numbers,
formulas and diagrams of
assembly
information for certain projects. One picture was of a
mechanical chair that a robot--I mean
astronaut--could
maneuver around on the moon. It's possible that some
of the astronauts are human
robots, because I
saw the formulas for programming them so they could
be controlled from earth and
scientists would
never have to rely on the astronauts human emotions'
or human errors in thinking. I
saw a whole set of
plans for training and conditioning an astronaut.
103
The United States
actually sent many more people and animals onto the
moon and to other
planets than they
let be known to the American public. They were
experimenting with all types of life
forces on the moon
and didn't announce many of their experiments, or
findings. The ones that were
made public were
strictly to control the feelings and beliefs of the
American people. Unscrupulous
scientists sent
"indigents" as they called them, to the moon and other
planets, and they usually didn't
return ...or if
they did they tested them to see what killed them. So
great was the desire to explore other
planets to beat the
Russians, or to quench the curiosity of some
totally left brain scientists, that they
didn't care who
they killed or hurt to get the desired results.
They were doing
initial research and used mind-controlled slaves to
explore the possibility that
humans could live
in outer space - on space stations and other planets.
This was done in preparation for
the elite families
to have a place to go should the need arise.
Even back in the
late 60's they had tracking stations on the moon that
were highly sophisticated,
and used to measure
many things. Somehow they were even able to monitor
the 'feelings' of a
population. They
monitored the earth from the moon much more than they
monitored the other planets.
This monitoring
system was set in place to control a society--to
control their feelings and thought
patterns. They
rationalized these actions explaining that in this way
they would be able to create a society
free of crime and
violence, but that is because people won't be able to
think for themselves. Their plans
are for a society
of mind controlled robots. I saw them perform studies
on hamsters and rats where they
totally controlled
them by these means. Now they can do it with human
beings and create any situation
on the globe they
want to peace, chaos, violence, whatever they want
and then they can go in with their
invisible frequency
warfare and publicly visible police force and take
control. In this way people could
lose all the
freedom they once had. It is already happening. Without
knowing it, people are loosing
freedom over their
own thoughts and emotions and will become controlled
instead by technologies that
they could never
even have imagined, let alone thought possible. It is
a sick, twisted, and sinister scheme
of global mind
control. (See Nick Begich's book, Angels Don't Play This
HAARP.)
Back then,
Rocketdyne had a test site in the Santa Suzanna Mountains, a
missile range firing plant
where the
scientists had the privilege of quickly testing their
inventions on the spot without having to
wait for them to be
sent to other firing locations. The scientists
liked that instant
gratification. They
could see how their blueprints worked right away.
So they had a total loop from
blueprints, to
manufacturing and then to launch - and it was more than
mere missiles they were firing
off.
Ken got me into the
facility over and over in my teens, to hook me up
to equipment that bypassed
my conscious mind
to record in my "top secret mind files" information
about their ideas which needed to
be passed on to
alternate sites or the Department of Defense. They were
all secretly inter-connected with
a huge web of
criminals on the inside and at the top who operated
without the knowledge of the public.
Army Base
Programming
More programming
took place on an army base where I was escorted past
some men in army
uniform to an
underground facility that we arrived at by walking down a
steep flight of stairs to a large
cement and grey
metal-walled warehouse. I was taken past a room with
desks and computers to a room
behind where the
programming equipment was kept. They put me inside
large cylindrical machines
where I either laid
or sat while they did all sorts of things to me.
One time they put me in a
decompression
chamber where I felt like I was getting squeezed to death
and then they put in some gas
that made me laugh
and feel weightless. They hooked wires and
electrodes to my head and limbs and
104
they used loud
sounds intermittently with soft sounds, then blasted the
loud sounds again during
which time an army
officer in a brown uniform delivered word phrases to
me that were inaudible to my
conscious mind
because of the other loud sounds I was being subjected
to. They put me through a series
of machines ...ones
that spun me, rolling me tumbling head over heals,
for long periods of time. Then
they laid me on a
table and shined bright lights in my eyes and loud
sounds again in my ears. At the same
time, the officer
yelled at me. I was so confused and out of it that
another officer tried to calm me down
on the table so I
could dress and leave. I was escorted out into an
awaiting limo. I did notice that we were
in an area that
looked like the California desert.
I watched and
recorded in my mind files, much like a court reporter,
while the American doctors
in coats mapped my
forehead and face and hooked me up to electrodes.
There were other people in the
room sitting like
zombies all with their heads mapped out. We all have
numbers that follow us no matter
what research
projects we were assigned to. They were studying our
brains in a variety of different
contexts, in all
different environments, with different stimulation.
They were also studying genetic
effects, cultural
effects, nutritional effects, every effect of
environment and genes on a person's brain
function, their
life function, their longevity, their functionality and
productivity. They monitored (by the
electrodes) and
registered and mapped lots of data that was imputed on
brain function. This also
furthered their
understanding of how humans would do on other planets
and space stations. The movie
Coma (1978) was
later used as a screen memory (to scramble this abuse),
but the experiments were
reality. Some data
was taken much later on at Pepperdine University in
Malibu, where I attended as a
college student in
1985-87, and some at international locations; one, a
big huge room with dark marble
floors in England.
Back At Winnetka
Tech
Jokingly, people
referred to my high school as "Winnetka Tech," and in
essence that was an
amazingly
appropriate title for a high school that had an inner group
of teachers and faculty whose
agenda it was to
create "enhanced minds." The high school was a factory
of "young adults," as Henry
Kissinger called
us. In junior high Henry began creating my friend
Candy's mind files, but said she was
too robotic. Henry
said I was a natural and ran smoothly with no rough
edges. Then there was Helen, the
student who was
Girl's President before I was and there was also a male
student, whose name I can't
remember. Henry
worked on them all but I was chosen above all of them
because I appeared so natural
and All-American,
while the others he viewed as too ethnic or too
robotical. Henry said he could still use
them all at
different tasks, but I was the most versatile and would fit
into most situations. One of the
women astronauts
also graduated from Taft High School.
At other times in
high school I was driven on those small 'special' Los
Angeles School District
buses - the kind
they used for kids with special needs - to the Van
Nuys Airport, or to LAX, or to different
heliports on top of
buildings in Los Angeles. During the late 60's I
was taken out of school often and
bused to different
places for all sorts of different things; sexually
servicing important businessmen or
politicians, or
meeting Nixon at some place on the beach in California,
or meeting Reagan at the Motion
Picture Country
Hospital, or meeting Bob and his friends somewhere.
There were lots of important
businessmen in
Southern California, Northern California, Sacramento,
Santa Barbara, Ojai, San
Francisco, San Luis
Obispo, Santa Cruz, Carmel, etc., that I was
delivered to for sex and to deliver
Council messages.
Suits, suits, and more suits! I never knew where I
was going and the driver of the bus
was usually a
different person each time. One time the driver was a
lady who said she came all the way
from the inner city
to drive me. She said, "You don't look handicapped
to me." I didn't respond, couldn't
think to, instead I
just walked off the bus and into the courthouse
where I was to sexually service and
pass a message to
some circuit judge. Often I would get out of the
special bus and later another special
bus would pick me
up and I would be taken back to Taft High School. I
didn't spend a lot of time in class,
but my teachers
didn't say anything when I didn't turn in my homework.
I don't know why, but they
didn't.
105
There were times in
high school that I was dismissed from classes for
an entire week and spent
the time traveling
internationally with Nixon and Kissinger. While I
traveled at times with Nixon, I was
programmed to carry
Henry's strategic plan for Nixon to tap into,
whenever he needed to refresh himself
with Henry's plan.
I often stayed in hotel rooms, or waited in nearby
rooms or the lobby, appearing to be
a regular person.
Nixon would access me, before, during, or after a
meeting, always leaving the sex for
much later on. But
I was at Nixon's fingertips, armed and loaded with
all the possible input and data any
one man could ever
want. That's how Henry described this when I
accompanied Nixon to China, USSR,
the Far East,
Vietnam talks, etc., always disguised as someone else in
order to serve Henry's interests.
So, in addition to
my secret life during my so-called studies at Taft
High School, I was flown all
over the country
and internationally, serving those individuals
Kissinger set me up with. I was having
routine sex with
the health and government teacher, Mr. Saul Rowen, who
later became the owner of
Cali Camp, an
exclusive children's camp in Southern California. Some
days when I was at school, during
lunchtime, I was
filmed pornographically by my brother and others in
the photo lab at Taft. And I was
having sex, all the
while unknown to my conscious personality, with
members of the business
community, and
earned myself the D.A.R. award for service, from the
Woodland Hills Rotary Club, upon
graduation.
106
Rockefeller and
Kissinger Confer on My Future
Uncle Rocky was my
corporate sponsor and was in Henry's office one day
when Henry turned to
me and said, "My
dear, don't you have something to say to Mr.
Rockefeller, here?"
"Yes, Sir!" I
exclaimed all bubbly and excited. I took his hand and
said exactly as Henry had
preprogrammed me,
"Mr. Rockefeller, I would like to ask you if you
would sponsor my further
education?"
"Of course," he
said, "I would be most delighted to be a part of your
future growth and
contribution to
mankind." Standing, he went on, "For me to finance your
education means that you are
now part of my
family and any young lady as bright as you are should
call me Uncle Rocky," and he
shook my hand. Now
I knew that he was part of my real family that Uncle
Charlie (Charles Lilley Horn)
had spoken of.
My reliability had
been tested for several years and I seemed to
"graduate" to a higher level of use.
What could be
higher level than the President of the United States? In
my experience, the Council, and
certain
international individuals like the Rockefellers, was a higher
level, standing head and shoulders
above the
government and United States politicians.
With this 'honor'
bestowed upon me, it took just three days for this
highest level of programming
to be accomplished.
I'm not sure where I was taken but the walls in the
room I was taken into were white
like in a hospital.
There was a flat silver metal band that was fitted
to the top of my head with adjoining
circular outer bars
that haloed around it. They coupled that with
finger connectors joined to wires that
delivered
electroshock to my fingers and toes. They sent electroshock
first to both of my smallest
appendages; my
little fingers and toes. Then they simultaneously sent
electroshock to my next finger and
toe, and continued
in succession until all paired appendages had been
included. At the same time they
delivered the
electroshock, they shined different colors of the red
spectrum, which went through blue to
purple, while they
were flashing the light. Next they did the yellow
spectrum paired with a different set of
fingers and toes.
They completed the whole 'rainbow spectrum' using
each finger/toe paired in sequence.
I overheard them
mention something about creating a perfect
coordination between not only left and
right brain motor
symmetry but actual motor functioning, paired with
brain wave patterning so that,
"the android robot
appears perfectly normal and human." I had to sit in
this electric chair for what
seemed like hours
while they did all this to me.
It was also during
this time period that I was introduced to Ronald
Reagan.
"Faith comes from
hearing the message, and the message is heard through
the word of Christ." --
Romans 10: 17
107
Brice Taylor -
Thanks for the Memories
Chapter Ten:
Introduced to Governor Ronald Reagan
I was slowly
introduced to Ronald Reagan when I was a teenager. Private
meetings were set up by
Bob Hope, for me to
meet with Reagan at the small theater that is part
of the Motion Picture Country
Hospital (MPCH)
located in Calabasas, California, just 10 minutes from
my childhood home in
Woodland Hills. The
hospital is owned and operated by the Screen
Actor's Guild (SAG). After my father
suffered a heart
attack my mother took a job and worked there for 10
years, in the late 60's and early
70's, as
secretary/bookkeeper to the Assistant Executive Director.
I was programmed to
walk or ride my bike to the hospital to watch some
of the movies that played
in the small
theater on the hospital grounds. I was instructed to watch
many movies that were used for
'programming
purposes' to instill certain preferred attitudes or moods
within me. Among them: My Fair
Lady, Gone With the
Wind, The Unsinkable Molly Brown, Disney movies,
and the Wizard of Oz. Often
during the showing,
a man would come up behind me and zap me with an
electronic piece of equipment.
At other times,
seeing a movie was just a cover for privately meeting
with Ronald Reagan. I was also
instructed to read
the book, Flowers for Algernon, which was intended
to scramble, cloud and cover the
memory of
experiences that happened at the MPCH and elsewhere.
It was there, in
private, at the MPCH, that Ronald Reagan began to get
acquainted with me, and
with many of my
created personalities. I was instructed beforehand that
I would have "an important
guest" and that I
was to "make a good impression on him, to give him
the full treatment." The Council
had big plans for
Ronald Reagan and he fit the requirements for what
they were looking for - someone
who was pliable and
could be directed. He proved that by following
their directions from the beginning,
even before he was
elected Governor. He was a person who was patriotic,
personable and was seen as
wholesome, good and
genuine in the public eye. He was a "good actor"
and was willing to jump through
their hoops without
question. They always told him he was working for
the "good of his country" and he
never seemed to
question anything. But I am getting ahead of myself.
That first meeting,
Reagan and I were alone in the small theater. When
the lights were lowered in
the audience
section, that was my cue to begin my routine. The "full
treatment" consisted of singing and
dancing on the
small stage for him, ending with a striptease dance.
After my seductive act, I walked out
to where he was
sitting all alone and climbed, naked, into his lap to
recite my program. Following my
programmed
instructions, I told him that I could satisfy every desire
or whim he could imagine, that I
came complete with
instructions and top security, and was referred by
his friend Bob Hope.
He seemed
embarrassed, a reaction that would follow him over the years
in relation to me, and a
bit overwhelmed,
but his response was, "I'm sold ...tell Bob I'm sold!"
Having carefully
recorded his exact response within my photographic
memory as instructed, I
clambered out of
his lap, collected my clothes from the stage floor and
got dressed.
I had several
personalities that were specially created to please
Ronald Reagan sexually. One was
created for total
devotion to him over the years.
I was used
extensively on and around 1968, at age 17, by then Governor
Reagan and soon after
with United States
President Richard Nixon. These top politicians were
guaranteed that my training
insured the highest
level of security. The high level of mind control I
possessed guaranteed that I could
be used with these
leaders who were involved in some of the highest
levels of national security, without
my own awareness,
therefore creating the most sophisticated level of
security our nation had to offer.
The spy doesn't
even know she's spying!
Rendezvous with
Reagan occurred often at the MPCH but the way it was
set up was very secretive.
On Sunday
afternoons, or in the evenings, I accompanied my family to
the small movie theatre on the
108
grounds. While we
were waiting outside in line I was instructed to say
that I had to go to the
bathroom and
instead I would slip into the backside entrance to the
little theatre and wait for him to
show up. Often he
was waiting in the back of the theatre and I'd
quickly deliver the message and return
to my family. Other
times, I waited for him in the back of the darkened
theatre. He would arrive looking
secretive like he
was trying to travel "incognito." After we connected
I would get up and go to the front of
the theatre to join
my family and he would sit down in my vacated seat.
During the movie I would
announce to my
family that I was going to the restroom and I would slip
into the row of seats in front of
Reagan. As soon as
I was in position in front of him I rattled off a
bunch of information meant to guide
him. If he passed
these tests by doing what he was told, then he could
enter a higher level of the political
arena. He was
slowly informed that I was a robot who was merely
reporting to him from the higher ups.
In the beginning
they told him not to underestimate my abilities just
because I was young, that I had
years of powerful
training to make me the way I was and that he was to
utilize me to the fullest.
Once he was elected
Governor, they had me working between Nixon (as
President) and Reagan
(as Governor). They
worked them together and were able to effect
powerful change and legislation
between the two.
That was escalated when Reagan got into office as
President and later they utilized Pete
Wilson in the same
way. Lots of legislation was pushed through and by
the time Wilson hit the office of
Governor and Reagan
hit President, they had the channels cleared to get
through laws, bills and
whatever else the
Council needed for their own advancement.
There was an older
gray-haired, feeble looking man with a diamond pinky
ring to whom I
frequently reported
at the MPCH. He often brought my mom a paper to
sign. At times he coordinated
and delivered me to
different rooms or cottages to meet with different
people. He told me to go inside
and wait. Often
Reagan was the person I was to wait for. Other times he
would say, "Wait in here," and I
sat in a lobby or
room where a Secret Service agent came to deliver me
to then-Governor Reagan. They
took me often to a
little housekeeping cottage to have sex and deliver
messages to Reagan. Later the
older man with the
diamond pinky ring would come and take me back to my
mother's office. He didn't
even see who I was
delivered to meet. The Secret Service said they
liked it better that way because they
said it was "once
removed," so it wasn't as risky.
There were
instances where my mother would pull open a file drawer in
her office, remove a file
and lay it on her
desk for me to read and record. Displayed before me
were logs of upcoming dates and
times I was to meet
Reagan or others at the MPCH. At other times I
viewed papers full of instructions of
things to say,
including specific phrases, to certain people, or lists
of columns of four figure numbers that
I was instructed to
encode and decipher.
At some meetings
Reagan would practice a speech in front of me in the
theatre. I'd take it all back
to the Council and
they would correct a line or two, give the exact
wording to be used, and I'd deliver the
message to Reagan
again and he would modify his speech and deliver it
as they dictated.
Other times I was
instructed to ride my bike to the MPCH or I
accompanied my mom to work
when she had extra
work to do and I'd say I was going outside. She
never questioned me. After I started
driving at 16, I
was instructed to report to my mom's office and ask
for money or permission to do
something, be ore I
went to the theatre so she wouldn't suspect
anything if later someone told her they
saw me. The man in
the theatre who let me in during off-hours
'appeared' to be a janitor, but I guess he
was a part of it.
Sometimes a group of men at a round table met as I
sat off to the side in "park mode,"
while they
discussed what needed to be done with me next or they'd
argue about what I was being
'exposed' to. One
man ended the argument explaining, "that's what the
boss ordered." The boss was Bob
Hope. These men
seemed to know all about me. But Bob didn't like to
meet or have sex with me at the
MPCH because he
said, "Frankly, the people there are too old." It
seemed to depress him to think about
old age.
109
Million Dollar
Babies
I overheard
conversations where the President of the United States and
other top politicians were
offered the
services of "escorts,"--the CIA's latest human robot
technology--programmed sex and
espionage slaves.
They were encouraged to use these escorts to satisfy
their sexual and emotional needs,
instead of exposing
themselves to outside individuals, because these
escorts were guaranteed safe - had
passed many tests
to insure security, were able to provide guaranteed
secrecy and were safe from
venereal disease.
The presidents and
others were highly discouraged by the CIA from other
avenues of sexual
indiscretions for
fear of public exposure. This fear of the
consequences of seeking "outside" sexual
gratification, fear
of adverse publicity or disease, and other security
risks, created a heavy demand for
the use of this
latest human technology.
As I later learned,
Project Monarch beta trained sex slaves were called
"million dollar babies"
referring to the
large amount of money each slave would bring in from a
very early age. In the 60's the
use of a Project
Monarch presidential model sex slave cost around $1200
for an evening. Henry called
me his "million
dollar machine."
My father and his
controllers had done their homework, insuring I was
Multiple Personality
Disordered,
certifiably under total and complete mind control and ready
for use by certain individuals in
top political and
entertainment positions, by the time I was a preteen.
But what many of
the CIA officials may or may not have been aware of
was that a powerful group
of men, whom I
refer to as "The Council," secretly ran the government.
They were also able to access the
"mindcontrolled
escorts" and program them to subversively influence top
government officials in ways
that benefited the
Council. The CIA's latest human technology was now
being used against our own
government.
"Each of us will
one day be judged by our standard of life...
Not by our standard
of living; by our measure of giving...
Not by our measure
of wealth; by our simple goodness...
Not by our seeming
greatness. " -- William Arthur Ward
110
Brice Taylor -
Thanks for the Memories
Chapter Eleven:
Mind Control in the Prisons
Wearing white
sandles, a red shirt and skirt, I was flown by helicopter
up near Sacramento,
California to the
Vacaville Prison. It was another mind control
experiment only this time not on me.
Mind control
programs were tried out on the inmates - programs they
wanted to implement with
criminals,
soldiers, etc., if they worked. Governor Reagan, who was
busy touring the facility, wasn't
around when they
tortured and programmed the prisoners. He went off
with a prison official while I was
taken to deliver
the verbal portion of the program to the men.
On one side of the
walkway the inmates were left alone and on the other
side they were hooked up
to electrodes, with
a band around their head and wrists, and were
shocked. Then a guard took me to say
programming phrases
to them like, "I will not commit a crime. I will
behave in society like a good citizen.
I will no longer
offend. I will not rape. I will be calm. I will be
peaceful. I will not fight. I will not swear. I
will be an asset to
society. I will follow orders. I will obey
commands. I will serve my country to the best
of my ability."
They even hooked up their penises to electroshock as a
trauma-programming tactic. When
they were tortured,
the men broke out in a sweat and some even cried,
and after the trauma, they had me
deliver the program
phrases. Whenever I was alone with them, a renegade
personality within me that
could relate and
sympathize with their plight, slipped in the
suggestion, "I will fight for my own
freedom."
One man was sitting
holding his head in his hands and crying. His toe
was being shocked through
a cuff that went
around his toe. These men were writhing in pain and
were emotionally broken by the
time they brought
them to me to deliver the program suggestions. I was
told to deliver the messages
slowly, distinctly
and quietly so their subconscious mind would have to
reach for it. Their conscious
mind was way out of
the way by then. Some men urinated in their cots
while they were being
electroshocked.
Their bodies jerked, they sweated profusely and cried.
A man who could still talk
afterwards begged
me, "Why are they doing this to me? Help me. Please
help me get out of here." It was
awful.
They helicoptered
Reagan and I in and out. It was a top-secret project.
By the time they finished
with these poor
men, they didn't even need to lock the jail cells. They
looked and acted comatose.
At one time they
said it was cheaper to keep criminals in prison than
to sentence them to death.
That was probably
so they could further their experiments on the mind.
Ottawa Prison System
In the early 1970's
there was a penal colony in Ottawa, Canada that
Reagan corresponded and
collaborated with
to compare their rate of success with ours. I was
flown there with Reagan in order to
completely and
efficiently retain all the statistical data on their
inmate projects. In the early 70's the
inmates were
heavily targeted like the preschools were in the later
70's. Once we got to the prison
location, he had to
show a special clearance badge to the man at the
door. It was a door inside, not the
door anyone could
pass through upon arriving. The area we were escorted
to was maximum security,
which sounded like
it was labeled that because of dangerous felons, but
it actually held a top security
status due to the
sensitive nature of the experiments that were held
there. Reagan said to the guards
when we passed by,
"It's okay, she's with me." They usually just waved
me through on his word alone.
One time in one of
the prisons we were in, a black guard said, "What
the hell...?" when Reagan showed
his badge and then
tried to get me waved through.
It made Reagan so
mad that he looked at the guy and said, "Do you have
a clearance?"
The guy said, "No."
111
"Well that's why
you're behind that desk and I'm cleared to go
through." Reagan responded
angrily.
The black guard
just said, "Suit yourself, Sir." And, we passed by.
After that they got a phony
clearance for me so
there wouldn't be any more problems or questions
asked when we went through
together. My job
once we were in the secured area was to record with my
photographic memory all the
"stats" on the
projects. Later in New York, I filled Henry in on the
latest data. Henry took brief notes,
maybe to follow up
on certain statistical data, I don't know.
Reagan and I went
into secured NASA areas the same way. I was waved
through in order to
photographically
record the data into my mind files in those areas,
also.
Sometimes we wore
white hard hats and sometimes safety glasses or
goggles were required in
different areas. I
liked when I had to wear them because then I didn't
stand out so much. It was generally
not as acceptable
or understandable why I was there since I was a girl
(later a young woman) ...that's
why they created my
son Danny with the mind files. It was awkward to
have so many questions asked
where, if I'd been
a man, people would not have wondered so much.
The Canadian prison
officials were very cooperative in the effort to
share data on mind control of
criminals. They saw
mind control as a means of benevolent restraint of
a population that was destined to
fail. They saw the
experiments and research as helpful to these
criminals as it would eventually allow
them the means to
move more freely within society without endangering
that society. These statistics
laid the groundwork
for a much higher level of technology to
proliferate than had been previously
possible. They
began working on pre-school children who would have the
basic programming structure
set in so that in
later years they would have the foundation already in
place for future use, with a solid
structure upon
which anything could be built.
Kissinger was
totally in alliance with the pre-school targets because
he was sure that the system
was foolproof and
self-contained, whereby he constantly saw the prison
system as an area of
vulnerability since
the subjects were older and didn't have the basic
programs locked in and attached to
much of anything
except drug barriers and torture. Lots of these men
were put into padded solitary cells
and were drugged,
electroshocked, and experimented on. They
experimented on the effect of drugs,
music, implants,
and hypnotic suggestions in conjunction with these
other stimuli.
Many countries were
interested in the mind control technology. In some
places it was traded for
favors or different
deals made with a country, but we kept the leading
edge technology.
NASA
In later years,
Reagan brought some of the prisoners to a certain
location to demo them to the
officials at NASA.
He showed them the progress he was having
artificially "lobotomizing" these criminals
(who Reagan often
referred to as "indigents"). It wasn't actual
surgery, but instead, implants that were
somehow controlling
neuro-responses to the brain, making the prisoners
incapable of doing anything
they weren't told
to do. He demonstrated how when angered they wouldn't
respond violently. He even
had other people
throw things (like a bucket full of some liquid) at
them - something that would have
normally made
anyone angry. He described how he could justify laying
off some of the prison staff, thus
eliminating some of
the costly prison system overhead in order to
reduce the state budget. I carried the
state budget in my
mind files that were used extensively during the
time Reagan was Governor.
Mind Control
Demonstrations
During one
demonstration Reagan said, "Strip for the surprise effect,
drive those scientists wild
like you did me the
first time." They were demoing all the uses for
mind control application - like for
112
behavior (violence)
control, or for intelligence operatives like me, a
mind file or sex slave for the
government, so the
men in high offices could have their needs met
without security risk. These men felt
they were that
important. The elite, in fact.
Reagan said, "Our
jobs are so vital to meeting the needs of the
majority that having a little help
like this really
makes a difference in how we can perform in our chosen
field of employment. You will see
that this is the
technology of the future."
At another of these
demos, there was a military man in a green uniform
with a bunch of those
colored bars on his
pocket and an admiral in a white hat and uniform
adorned with all kinds of metals.
They were there for
the demonstration of mind control slaves and to see
what could be done to help them
get the most out of
their "boys." They carefully took notes while
Governor Reagan spoke and they
watched as he
demoed me.
When demonstrating
me after 1976, Reagan explained to the audience,
"Now this one has had a
child and you might
think that as a sex slave that puts her out of
commission. Not true. What occurs is
they become as
maternal towards helping the government grow as they do
helping their child grow and
as I am sure you
all well know, nothing gets up a mother's dander more
than having someone mess with
their young. And
that gentlemen is precisely what we do. To the extent
that this mother loves her child is
the extent to which
she will go to protect that child. All we have to
do is alter her perception a bit in order
to make her fear
injury will come to her young and you've just tapped
into the highest source of
dedication and
intense emotion that can be regulated to fit the
occasion."
He went on with the
following 'pep talk:' "Many of the top minds in our
nation are supporting this
endeavor, both
through scientific research all the way to financial
banking and these men are among
those who will
insure that we in this country are not overrun by
Communism. That will be our demise
should we fail to
continue this valuable research, for the Communists
are already in the lead in the area
of behavior
control. They've already sent a monkey to the moon and we
understand that they are making
major advances in
the field of the control over the minds of their
victims. So we should not fall prey to
their evil intent -
we strive to stay steps ahead of them. We owe it to
the people of our country to have the
best technology man
has to offer. We cannot wait. We must do it now in
order to preserve our freedom."
Somehow, Reagan
actually believed he was championing prisoners' rights
and furthering the
safety of the
public. He talked about finally putting to ease the
troubled minds that these criminals were
born with - by
altering their brain function. "Lobotomies without a
lobotomy," those who spoke of this
technology all said.
Kissinger thought
the prisoner stuff was "a waste of precious time when
more productive
technologies could
be applied to 'brighter subjects,' instead of
wasting the technology on the prison
population." Henry
said he thought Reagan was an absolute imbecile, who
didn't have license to operate.
I didn't know
exactly what he meant by that.
Reagan did horrific
things to demonstrate his progress with the prison
population, even to the
extent of sticking
one of the prisoners with a long needle to show he
couldn't any longer feel pain, inside
or out, and would
no longer be a problem to himself or to society.
Reagan talked about how they were
able to lay in a
new framework for life for these people. He was
talking about the mind control projects
done to "normalize"
prisoners that were to be put back on the streets.
That way they felt they would be
able to empty the
prisons and reduce a large percentage of the state
budget, and it would help with
federal funding as
well. His vision was that one day all criminals
could be "cured" in this way and go on
to live a life free
from crime within society, not locked behind bars.
113
There were actual
programs instilled into the minds of the prisoners
with the use of audio and
other equipment,
located in various areas around the country. Some of
it looked like electric chairs but
they were modified
to deliver regulated doses of electricity to simply
slow or alter the mind in certain
areas. He said
these men were simply "routinized," which meant they
awoke the same time each
morning, ate
breakfast, went to work, came home, watched television,
ate dinner, went to bed. Reagan
laughed when he
said, "We even go so far as to suggest they keep their
lawns and yards well manicured
in order to keep
the neighborhoods up." He said, "This spills over into
all areas of society. These people
will become
productive and the cost to all of us taxpayers will be
greatly reduced and, eventually, as we
become better at
this, we may not even have further need for our prison
system. We will have a crimefree
society--just
imagine that!!"
Henry cringed when
he heard Reagan's ideas and often berated him in
front of me for acting
irresponsibly by
putting out a product that was not time-tested. Henry
said an experiment on the public
(although criminal)
sector was risky, as there were no controls in
place to insure the person's memory
would remain locked
up. Nor, Henry reasoned, "do ve have the test of
time to know how the experiments
vork. You're
sending these people back into society vithout any
exterior controls and no means of
monitoring them. It
spells disaster, Ron." Of course I never mimicked
Henry's accent when delivering
messages, but this
is how I heard them.
But Reagan had the
power to do what he wanted and so he did, and Henry
just constantly shook
his head and said,
"It's people like him who will ruin this whole area
for the rest of us."
Henry worked behind
the scenes trying to align other powerful
California politicians, like Alan
Cranston, against
Reagan in areas that wouldn't be detected but would
be felt by Reagan. He wanted to
get him out of the
way before he, "ruined the prospects of the future."
Perhaps Ronald Reagan's recent
demise is more than
Alzheimer's disease.
Kissinger and
Reagan often had heated arguments where Henry gave him a
piece of his mind, but
Reagan just
rationalized it all away by saying Henry was "an unbalanced
egghead," or an "unbalanced
intellectual,"
depending on who he was talking to. But publicly he
acted like he got along well with
Kissinger. He never
did, although Henry prepared me for a lot of
seeming "favors" with Reagan, like
using special mind
files and sexual pleasures. He didn't let his
disdain for Reagan get in the way of using
him for his own
benefit. While Reagan was carrying on and on about his
great contribution to society,
Kissinger was
slipping in all sorts of information for me to drop on
Reagan. I was meant to get him to
change certain laws
or to veto certain bills or to get friendly with
some politician or foreign leader - the
list was endless
and Henry Kissinger "worked" Reagan for years. Since I
was so intimately linked with
Reagan over the
years, Henry "seized the golden opportunity" to
influence Reagan in the White House.
Henry felt it was
important to see beyond Reagan's apparent weakness
and capitalize on it for his own
benefit.
Henry Kissinger and
the New Age Craze
Henry Kissinger
also manipulated the New Age craze. Henry said people
who would believe that
guides and masters
were leading them should be guided by masters, and
he considered himself one.
Henry said I could
trust anyone who wore a crystal as part of my
'family of man'...that's what he called
our mind controlled
group because it was a family experiment in
dynamics, breeding, rearing, etc. These
experiments
encompassed how everything effected a person, and they felt
they might as well learn on the
slaves what would
be the best for their future progeny.
A whole business
was made of the New Age to the slave community. As
books and items were
created for those
searching for truth, the self-appointed 'enlightened
ones' who were 'in the know'
manipulated the
spiritual ideologies in order to hide many of their
mind control realities. What was
114
behind much of it
was really a group of men, controlling
mind-controlled robots and herding them in
the direction they
wanted them.
I was programmed to
deliver to a famous Los Angeles channeler, the
words to say just before a
Whole Life Expo
event where he channeled the message to a very large
group of people in an auditorium
who were in an
altered meditative state. Henry gave me the exact words
to say. They were targeting highlevel
slaves and it
encompassed those programmed with whales and dolphins,
angels, ascended masters,
eastern religions,
energy, quantum physics, UFO's, aliens, channeling,
and listening to your guides and
angels. They felt
if Los Angeles failed then the rest would because
most were patterned after Los Angeles.
I have met persons
suffering from Multiple Personality Disorder that
felt they were channeling
entities, when in
fact they were channeling parts of their own
personality structure. One day a woman
'channeler' named
Shirley graciously offered to channel privately for
me. Earlier, other people had paid
her $50 to channel
for them, but I was not among them. I told her I
would be glad to ask any questions
she had of herself
while she was in a channeling state of mind. She
agreed. The answer to the question
when posed about
"if Shirley had been involved in any of this ritual
abuse stuff," was, "Shirley is not
ready to face that
reality yet." Channeling can be a very clever way to
cover the reality of Multiple
Personality
Disorder and offers a way of covering up when personality
systems break into conscious
awareness,
explaining it away as 'an entity.'
When a slave is
told "it is destiny that your guides and masters
brought you here," or "feeling
drawn to a place"
or being told, "You know it's no accident that you
are here," it can really flip them out
because
unconsciously they know it's not an accident that they are
there, and they know they are not
supposed to tell
and so it does a double whammy on their
mind-controlled system.
When I arrived on
Kauai, people I had never met before warmly and
lovingly came up to me,
hugged me and
dropped the message, "Welcome Home." I was conscious and
recovered enough to know
that they were
unaware that they had just delivered a very powerful Oz
programming word phrase
intended to lock
down my programming, insuring I couldn't access the
deeper levels of my mind that
were being used for
"national security" and were not supposed to be my
own.
The New Age was
used to help usher in the New World Order. It was part
of a miniexperiment on
total and complete
mind control. Henry created lots of concepts to use.
It was implemented in Los
Angeles as the
pilot experiment using a new form of philosophy to
direct the people into mindlessness
until the higher
technologies could take over creating by the year 2000
'the perfect utopia.' The New Age
was the formula for
complete takeover - a way to lead many in the ways
they needed in order to be in
total control of
Los Angeles by the year 2000. While I still lived in
California, I was given instructions for
New Age things to
read, watch, and places to go, etc.
They were beginning
to get people to identify with 'globalism' as
associated with love, peace, and
good feelings. Many
songs also readied people for this one-world,
global reality with powerful love
harmonics. I, too,
believe that the earth and the people living on it
in harmony is a beautiful idea, but we
need to insure that
we don't loose the freedoms that we all hold so
near and dear to our hearts, especially
the freedom of our
own minds and to know where our thoughts come from.
Many slaves were
also being used in projects for remote viewing, one of
the CIA's secret
weaponry, and in
experiments in regard to parapsychology. Many of us
were taught to telepathically
communicate, as a
means of reading the enemies' minds. While the media
cast a negative image on
psychic ability,
our own government was dabbling heavily in it, using
mind control operatives to
participate in
their projects.
NASA Future
Technology as Seen from the Past
115
Lyle Curran, a NASA
employee and Craig's uncle, often tapped into my
NASA mind files when we
went to their home
in Los Alimitos or when we met up with them on our
numerous trips to Mexico,
mostly Mazatlan.
From the information Uncle Lyle accessed from my mind
files way back in the 60's,
70's, 80's, rockets
and missiles were a thing of the past, and directed
energy in the form of weaponry
systems was what
they were planning on using as the new weapons of the
future. No one can see it
coming, nor defend
against it. They could take out the lights in entire
cities and blame it on UFO's. The
Department of
Defense experimented for a long time, until they mastered
this technology. It puts
nuclear weapons
right out of business. I am not saying that I don't
believe extraterrestrials exist, because
I think that would
be extremely ignorant. All I am saying is that there
are real live human beings that
need to be taken
into account for the evil deeds that were done. They
can do surgery with energy, making
no incisions. They
can insure a body doesn't disease by monitoring the
electromagnetic field variations. I
witnessed awesome
medical feats, but even as they are funding these
projects, the public is still not
benefiting from the
use of this technology. This information is held in
top secret clearances.
"But I will restore
health to you and heal your wounds," declares the
Lord. -- Jer. 30:17
116
Brice Taylor -
Thanks for the Memories, pp 81-100
Chapter Twelve:
Nixon, Kissinger, and International Business
All roads lead to
Hope ...Bob Hope that is. President Richard Nixon was
connected to Bob Hope
also - it seemed
like everyone was. President Nixon used me sexually
from approximately 1969 until he
resigned in 1974. I
was with him in many different places and sometimes
Henry Kissinger was with us
also.
Henry Kissinger
never used me for sex; it was always strictly mind file
use. At times, Nixon
participated with
Henry in utilizing and accessing my computerized
"government mind files," but both
functions (sex and
mind files) could not be used at the exact same
time, there had to be time in between
uses.
The Council
The Council
accessed me many times without the knowledge of the
politicians who were enjoying
my services. In
this way, the Council was having direct access to
information channels with and about
influential people,
like presidents, governors, senators, foreign
leaders, and celebrities.
Looking back, I was
likened to a satellite orbiting around the globe,
used by then Governor
Reagan (for sex and
messages), President Nixon (for sex and messages)
and Henry Kissinger (for mind
files). Later, the
Council would access me and send me back to the
politicians with different messages
and motives than
the ones originally intended by the Government.
The Council had me
delivering messages between President Nixon and
Governor Reagan. The
Council worked them
together and was able to effect powerful change and
legislation to suit their own
needs, by
manipulating the two of them.
Sometimes there was
a problem if I was programmed by two different
factions for the same event
and was instructed
to target two different people--or worse yet, the
same person. In this situation, I
would carry
programmed messages from two different groups, with one
group's message contradicting
the other group's
message. This type of situation created terror and
confusion in my inner system of
personalities, and
I was usually punished by one or the other faction
for not delivering the information
correctly.
This happened at a
Gubernatorial Ball during this same time frame. The
Mob/CIA had one set of
instructions I was
to deliver to President Nixon, and the Council had a
whole different set of messages
for Nixon. The
Council programmed me way in advance for this
Gubernatorial Ball, but the Mob's/CIA's
programmed
instructions came to me last and closest to the event.
Like a jammed
computer, I sat in a chair in the corner, afraid to move,
until a Secret Service agent
came over and hand
signaled me as he rubbed his finger under his nose a
few times, cleared his throat
and said, "Are you
lost, little lady?"
The Secret Service
agent's prompting got me "back on track" and I was
triggered into action. I
delivered the
message from the Mob/CIA instead of the Council's message.
This particular
occasion was around a time when the Mob/CIA wanted to
control a drug line going
through Nicaragua
and Paraguay to the United States (Chicago). They
were trying to ignite terror in that
area, via civil
unrest, in order to create a situation where the United
States would be persuaded to go into
the foreign country
to supposedly "protect them." What would really be
happening is they would just be
117
opening up a
"legal" but hidden drug pathway into the country so they
could have free access to their
drug sources.
In light of this
set of covert 'goals,' the Mob/CIA programmed me to
approach President Nixon
after this gala
event and after sex, report how admirable I would find
him and our government if he
would authorize our
troops to go in and help the Nicaraguans--to give
them the aid that they so
desperately needed.
Per program, I relayed innocently and sincerely
that I felt it was our duty as a free
nation, concerned
with maintaining freedom for all people, to aid those
less fortunate, since we held so
much power. I
continued persuading Nixon that all Americans would be
proud to have a president who
was so
conscientious, reminding him that other presidents before him
had gone down in history as
heroic defenders of
democracy and freedom.
It was a very
"patriotic speech," a slick story, intended to appeal to
his well-known sentiments. He
seemed to fall for
it; at least he seemed inflated and inspired by it.
Although I did not
have the ability to comprehend or make decisions on
my own behalf due to the
mind control I was
under, the delivery of the Mob/CIA message was a
fortunate choice for my personal
safety. The Council
was more forgiving but to get caught not delivering
a message from the Mob/CIA was
like stealing the
drugs or money at a drug deal. There were severe
consequences, and often I was
violently punished.
When they debriefed me in order to get the
information about what I had or had not
delivered, and what
the reaction was of the person receiving the
message, I operated like a machine, with
no defenses of
self-preservation and no ability to lie. So I reported
exactly what happened and ended up
getting beaten up
or tortured in some way if I made a mistake. They
were very brutal.
I was in yearly
attendance at the Celebration or Birthday Party of the
Elephant, the Republican
Party - the GOP.
The large room was decorated with red, white, and blue
banners; the decorated tables
set for dinner and
celebration. There was also a large stage, decorated
for the political speakers. It was
crowded, noisy, and
people were taking pictures with camera flashes
going off all over the place. I was
sent in to be a
sex/espionage agent.
It was strange to
see people there I knew like Governor, and then
later, President Ronald Reagan
or Senator Pete
Wilson, only I was programmed to not consciously
recognize them. In fact, I was
programmed not to
be able to even see them at all. "Just ignore them,"
were the rules ...unless they
approached me.
Although I obeyed my orders at the time, the fact that I
was Multiple Personality
Disordered allowed
other parts of me to not only "see" them but
register these occasions into
photographic memory
as I had been trained.
Sometimes at these
conventions, I never made it out of the back of a
limousine or was restricted to
a separate room
away from everyone. Men, usually politicians, were
brought to me for quick sex. They
called this
activity by names that are not appropriate to print here.
This particular
evening, I was programmed to target President Nixon. I
wore a blue, off-theshoulder
dress with a
diamond necklace. I probably looked like just some other
young girl, partying at
the convention.
There were other slaves there also, to perform quick
sex for other politicians. I don't
know if the Council
was also accessing them.
Pat Nixon
accompanied President Nixon, so he had to break away from her
to have a "quickie"
with me in a back
room. Nixon did things like that before he got
depressed with the Watergate scandal.
After that he
started acting old and beaten down. It was like the life
just went out of him.
118
President Nixon
accepted me with smiles because he was grateful for the
times I had been able
to help him quickly
recover from depression or negative emotional
states. I could perk him up so he felt
better and could
more efficiently function in his important job. At
least that is what they always told me.
The Council made
sure I had the road paved to President Nixon, free and
clear, and over time he
listened to me
despite the fact that I was only 18, 19, 20, 21, or 22
years old. I helped him with what they
called "his
difficult times," until the end when he had to resign the
Presidency.
Henry Kissinger
Took Up Residence in My Brain ...and Never Paid Rent
In the late 60's
and early 70's the mind control programming technology
was advanced, but
certainly not as
advanced as it was in later years. Instead of being
hooked up electronically to a machine
that could
automatically program information into my mind files, like
is available today, my
programmers used
the less efficient, but only tried and true method
available at the time. They used my
programmed ability
to have personalities who were equipped with
photographic memory, read or scan
documents to
memorize them. To accomplish this a personality was put
into a receptive mode and told
to look at a
document as a whole, like I was taking a picture of it in
its entirety. That way, later on, I could
look inside my mind
files, see in my mind's eye the picture of the
document and read it to Henry or
report whatever
information he requested. For Henry, it was like having
his own invisible laptop
computer (within my
mind files) available whenever he needed
information.
In the beginning
when I was first being programmed with mind files,
Henry took me to different
places with filing
cabinets, and instructed me to go through certain
file drawers to digest information. He
put me in the mode
to store data in coded mind files and then left me
to absorb information.
The "government
mind files" that I possessed were created from being
put into rooms in
Washington, DC at
the National Archives, Pentagon, State Department,
the Federal Reserve building,
Rocketdyne/Rockwell
in California and other places. I was also
instilled with information at military
bases around the
United States regarding top secret project's. So, I
had the latest information regarding
top secret
experiments and defense and space information if Henry
needed it for reporting to others at
meetings. Kissinger
arranged a special clearance to get me into these
top security places. He also took me
into some private
offices at night in the dark. We had to be very quiet
while I digested huge amounts of
private party
information.
Some of the files I
have been able to identify are information
regarding: history; foreign countries;
travel information;
federal and state documents; visual orientations to
certain locations; maps of foreign
countries,
including information on climate, terrain, ocean access,
mountain access, etc.; individual
person's profiles
listing preferences, perversions, place of residence,
friends and connections; a postal
file where those
involved all over the globe could log on to send or
receive messages from each other;
peace talks files;
foreign leader files; research findings and
experimentation files; strategic logistics files;
banking systems
files; etc. It was a wide and vast assortment of
information to be accessed easily by
Henry. There were
hundreds of files and many new files were added over
the years from different
agendas between the
Council and Henry.
Kissinger was more
familiar with how to access the information than
anyone else because he
created my internal
system. He knew how to access me for different
functions, in addition to keeping the
plan of the global
elitists organized. This form of communication
allowed them to secretly communicate
around the globe at
times when they didn't want anyone to be able to
publicly associate their
connections. I not
only kept rooms full of information, neatly tucked
away in my brain for easy access,
but it gave
Kissinger and others an advantage as it appeared they were
less prepared and had less data at
their fingertips
than they actually did. No need to carry armfuls of
books and brochures. He just brought
me along and
utilized me when it was time to recite information he
wanted on any subject he had
119
programmed into me.
Plus, he and others who knew my programming could
instill and retrieve
arcane 'e-mail
messages' from around the globe, often with the latest
top secret knowledge gleaned from
classified
experiments and projects or messages in regard to the New
World Order agenda. I was a REAL
robot.
At one time, Henry
had a dark wooden desk with a glass piece covering
the top of it and his big
chair squeaked when
he sat down. There were lots of wooden floors where
Henry took me initially - "old
culture" places.
Nothing was ever really new looking in those days but
that changed over the years.
Henry brought me
into his office, sat me down at a chair across from
his desk while he pulled file
after file out of
his filing cabinets, and laid them open on the desk
in front of me. Then he said, "Quickly
memorize this data,
we're going to a meeting." He would also categorize
the data by saying, "File this
under A-3," or
whatever name or code number he labeled it. He
meticulously named each file and when
he would loan me
out to people he would tell them the file identifier
so they could access the information
they needed. He
usually would leave me alone with the files to
memorize. When he returned, we went to
the meeting.. Henry
rationalized this, saying this way he didn't have
to hold trivial details in his mind but
could save it for
more important matters, such as strategizing. That's
how I heard him explain it to others
who knew about the
mind control technology.
At times he would
hand me top-secret documents and say, "Record
document #1-12," and then he
would leave me
alone to photograph them in my memory. Later when he
needed specific wording from
one of them he
would call me over and, if he wasn't talking to someone
or in the middle of something, he
would have me read
the information from my mind aloud to him. If he was
in a meeting or was busy he
instructed me to
write the information on a note pad and then later
when he needed it he would pick up
the pad and read
the information from it or refer to it and people
present would just think I was his
secretary or aide.
This happened for years.
At night, Henry
snuck me into lots of top secret places where documents
were stored and gave me
a flashlight and
instructions to go through and memorize documents. He
let me into these places and
then would leave me
alone, recording documents into mind files, often
for hours at a time. Later he came
back to get me.
There were times he was sweating when he returned and
was in a real hurry to leave,
even if I was right
in the middle of a document. Then, when we got into
the car he would sigh like he was
relieved. He would
become very nervous, though.
Henry always
readied me for the Rockefeller Christmas parties, but so
would a group of other men
who were sometimes
with him and knew how I worked. It depended on who
was to attend the party.
When they obtained
that information, they went about strategizing and
deciding what I should say to
whom. The
Rockefellers have been in a position of power for a long
time. Kissinger seemed to work
hand-in-hand with
them often, in order to "satisfy their goals in the
most efficient manner."
There were times
Henry loaded me up with information specifically for
someone and then I would
be the secret
liaison between the two. This occurred between Henry and
Pete Wilson. Pete was often
Henry's California
arm. This way Pete could carry out his wishes
without it being known where the
instructions were
coming from.
The White House
When important
meetings were held at the White House, sometimes Henry
took me along if he
felt there might be
information that was "crucial" to have at the
"ripe" time. He told people I was in
training or some
other excuse. One time he even had me write
information on a napkin under the table
so as not to be
noticed. This specific napkin event occurred around
1971, because I remember that I had
my hair done up
with a hairpiece full of curls on top. I was 20. Henry
had my clothes ready for me;
120
usually very
tailored, conservative, dark clothes, most often a navy
blue jacket, skirt and low navy
heels, or a
disguise. He laid my clothes on the bed in a room with two
twin beds with white bedspreads -
the bumpy kind. He
told me to get dressed and left the room, closing
the door behind him. Later he
returned to get me.
At other White
House dinners, I wasn't present at the table with the
other guests, but Henry was.
When I didn't fit
into the plan of the evening in order to sit at the
table, Henry still "prepped" me and
kept me in the
kitchen or another room in the White House, close to the
dining room so he could come
and access me if
necessary, without anyone knowing. So I sat there in
'park mode' and watched the
White House kitchen
staff cook and serve. At those times I was dressed
like a kitchen staff member with
a black skirt and
white blouse, so I didn't look out of place. Henry
explained that if I didn't stand out no
one would notice or
pay attention. My "attire," as he called it, was
never meant to call attention to my
presence but
instead was to make me fit in and look like I belonged.
Over the years Henry parked me in
some pretty strange
places. When he would arrive to access information,
I would scribble it on a piece of
paper he would take
with him, or if it was brief he would access me
verbally and would simply remember
what information he
extracted. Henry often said, I was his "left
brain," so he could use his mind for more
important matters.
At times while I
was sitting with he and others in the dining room,
Henry would often leave the
table to go make
important phone calls. He would either leave me at the
table to smile and be pleasant,
but instructed me
to avoid conversation, or he would take me with him
to obtain further input via the
telephone.
Sometimes he would carry his linen napkin from the dining
table and looked pretty dumb but
no one seemed to
notice.
The White House was
a place I was taken to in order to "do a job" on
certain leaders - some
foreign, some
domestic. I was given very clear suggestions and
instructions on who to target and how to
go about it. I was
briefed on their likes, dislikes and preferences and
was told certain phrases or key
words to use
throughout the conversations I was programmed to have with
them.
Henry was often
invited to the White House when the President was
entertaining foreign guests,
even after Nixon
wasn't President any longer. They felt, and rightly
so, that Kissinger was well versed
and knew many of
the cultural customs of foreign dignitaries so the
risk of making a faux pas could be
avoided. Henry was
confident and seemed to know everything about
foreign policy. When he was invited
to a dinner with a
foreign dignitary that the Council wanted to have me
privately entertain later on in the
evening, he
wouldn't use my mind files at the end of the evening so I
could be used for sex.
Henry secretly knew
that messages conveyed to targeted individuals
during the 'behind-thescenes'
sex stuff meant
more to people because then they psychologically
interpreted and categorized
personal
experiences such as sex in with their memories of personal or
family experiences. Thus the
message became
stored as more valuable since it wasn't strictly
business. Henry said combining his
messages with sex
would store it in a different part of the brain, with
the personal experiences being filed
with more
importance emotionally and so it would carry more weight or
influence.
Usually
arrangements for a sexual encounter with me were made secretly
between Henry and the
foreign guest. Then
the guest and I would be limoed away somewhere to a
hotel or taken to another
place. But most of
the people at the White House gathering were unaware
this took place as we would all
leave separately,
and rendezvous at another location later on. Or,
Henry would have a limo waiting and I
would enter and
wait. Usually I was put in the limo first and waited
for the dignitary. Then we would
spend a few hours
or the whole night together, while I dropped a
preprogrammed message at the perfect
time to the leader.
Then I was flown home.
121
One day I was in
the White House delivering a message to Nixon from
Kissinger. Nixon and I
were standing in a
large room where there were some tables lining the
walls and couches and large rugs
covered the wooden
floor. Old pictures dotted the walls, fresh flowers
were in beautiful vases and heavy
drapes covered the
windows. I guess Nixon thought we were alone as we
stood facing an oil painting on
the wall by a long
table. Dick had his arm around me as he was
inputting a reply back to Henry through
me. A hand on my
right shoulder was standard procedure to encode
incoming messages and Nixon was
doing it all
properly, however, halfway though the message, his
daughter Trisha came into the room.
She looked very
pretty in her nice dress, but she didn't know I was
there and when she called out,
"Dad," it startled
her father and I, and, in turn, she was surprised
and shocked. It was one of those very
awkward situations
where it appeared she instantly summed up the whole
situation and thought her
father was being
romantic with me. Nixon acted extremely guilty and
stammered uncomfortably until he
finally introduced
me as someone from the State Department. She didn't
seem to buy his explanation
and left the room
annoyed and upset.
Nixon said to me,
"Don't worry about her, I'll take care of this." But
he said it with his hand still on
my right shoulder,
so instead of it just being a casual statement meant
for me, it actually became part of
the his message to
Henry. After that Henry began to devise a way for
messages to be encoded without
having to touch my
shoulder in order to avoid these types of situations.
International
Assignments
There were times I
was flown to foreign countries so Henry Kissinger or
President Nixon could
utilize my
computerized "mind files" at meetings they were attending
publicly or later privately. On the
flight to these
countries, it was my job to make the President
comfortable. I took off his shoes, rubbed his
feet, pampered him
and brought him anything he wanted. Secret Service
agents surrounded him.
When I flew with
Kissinger and Nixon was not there, I was told to sit
or sleep quietly next to him.
Henry often slept
on the airplane. Nixon did not.
I believe that the
Secret Service agents at times knew what I was
really doing sexually with Nixon
because
occasionally they witnessed when I came on to him. Like one
time when I leaned over and put
my head on his
shoulder and reached down to unzip his pants, a Secret
Service agent who was just
walking up from
behind, laughed and said, "Excuse me, Sir." At this
point Nixon took my hand away and
quietly said to me,
"Later, dear."
Beijing China
There were dirty
waterways in some parts of China and the streets in
some areas where I was
taken were dirty.
One square was full of flags in the courtyard. I was
there on foreign assignment with
Henry Kissinger. I
flew independently and was taken to a hotel by a
Secret Service agent. The Secret
Service registered
me in the hotel under a phony name with a phony
passport. Henry met me there.
Usually I flew
privately on a chartered jet with Henry, but this time
it was last minute notice so we flew
commercially but
separately.
We were there to
swing a deal with the leader of China. Henry told them
I was a foreign
correspondent and
we sat at a long table with lots of Chinese men and I
sat next to Henry. I always sat to
Henry's left for
his convenience in tapping me with this left hand
leaving his right hand free to write or
smoke his cigar. He
told me to smile, look pretty and "take it all in,"
which meant record data into my
mind files. He
notified me who to zero in on and "listen intently" to.
He also used access codes to refer to
my mind files. No
one knew that I was a high tech programmed computer
that was carefully and
precisely recording
details and spewing information when my mind files
were accessed and called upon.
122
President Nixon's
Loyal Friend Bebe Rebozo
BeBe Rebozo was
President Nixon's good friend. He was present on many
occasions when Nixon
used me for sex.
One such time was in Miami, Florida. I was flown into
Miami and taken by limo to the
beach where I was
to meet Nixon.
As usual, I was put
into isolation before my use with VIP's and this
time was no different. BeBe
Rebozo and his men
took an active role in my "preparation" for Nixon.
Rebozo was violent
and cruel to me, slapping and hurting me. He took me
to a totally dark,
windowless, cement
room and left me there, naked and alone in the dark.
Before he left, men injected
drugs into my lower
arm and left me for hours without food, water, or
clothes. This was before I had
children, so they
could not yet use that powerful maternal bond to keep
these programmed secret events
amnesiac, like they
did later on. Because of this, the physical torture
to me during this time was
accelerated, but
was never as painful as the things they later did to
my children in order to "keep me in
line."
Rebozo dressed in
fancy expensive suits and wore gold jewelry.
Subconsciously I hated him.
On this occasion,
Rebozo came and released me from isolation and took
me to a restroom to clean
up. I showered and
put on the bikini they left for me and soon was
readied for action with Nixon.
I don't know
exactly where we were because I was programmed never to
look or notice our
location, but I was
taken to President Nixon at a private beach house.
My instructions were to "tease
him, please him,
ease him and help him relax in the sun." It was on
this private beach, watched from
every angle by the
Secret Service, that I seduced Nixon. I was laughing
and joking with him as I
undressed him from
his suit, tie, and dress shoes. Then we slipped into
the water while I further seduced
him. After he was
satisfied, I was removed and taken somewhere to get
"prepared" for an evening event
with the President.
Nixon had dinner in
his room and I accompanied him while he ate, then
satisfied him sexually
and was taken away.
Nixon was not as passive sexually as Reagan was. He
made an effort and took
initiative. He
preferred the missionary position. I suggested we keep
the light on, but he always wanted
to turn the lights
out, so he did. I never slept in the bed with Nixon
after sex - it was his rule. I never did
spend the whole
night with him, like I did with some of the others. I
was instructed to wait until he was
asleep and then to
very quietly notify the Secret Service agent at the
door to the suite. The agent took me
out of the room and
I was flown directly back to California with all
details of the event carefully tucked
and hidden away
within the personalities programmed for Nixon. Per
program, I slept the whole flight
home.
In the beginning
years with Nixon, I was programmed to make him happy
and to satisfy him in the ways
I had been trained
and programmed to. Just as the Council anticipated,
over time, Nixon's trust built in
relation to me,
paving a way for me to be used in ever more influential
circumstances with him.
There were times I
was taken to Key Biscayne, Florida, to service
Nixon. He was with BeBe
Rebozo there and it
seemed that BeBe was in charge of the events that
occurred while we were on his
turf.
Each time, Rebozo
put me into isolation in a small cement room and
slapped me around before he
left me alone in
the room naked, cold, and hungry, in his words, "to
get ready for 'the boss,"' as he called
Nixon. Rebozo would
tell me how "the boss" deserved respect and
whatever it took to make him
comfortable. He
spoke in broken Mob language. He acted like a really
tough guy and was very loyal to his
friend Nixon.
When he came to
release me from isolation, BeBe instructed me, "make
yourself presentable," and
I was cleaned up
and dressed. Then, I was taken by limo to a beach that
had palm trees on it. We arrived
at sunset. Since I
was programmed not to notice where I was
geographically, I had no way of knowing
123
where I was, but at
times I overheard others speak of our location and
that information was stored
along with memory
of the event. We pulled up to a very secluded house
where there weren't a lot of other
people around. The
house was on the beach and a lawn surrounded by a
short fence led out to the ocean.
Miami meant more
serious business, but Key Biscayne laced pleasure with
business. Deals
between the Mob,
Council, Rebozo and government officials or other
interconnected mob factions took
place in Miami or
Key Biscayne.
At times, the "big
guys," very important or influential people, would
join in the business and
pleasure at Key
Biscayne. Connections were big business with the Mob. I
was instructed to sit with the
guys and make them
happy by giving them whatever they wanted.
Men with guns stood
in windows in the back of the house to guard Nixon.
The Secret Service let
the Mob protect
Nixon up close and they kept guard further away. I
think Rebozo arranged this
protective
situation but I do not know why it was set up like that.
Rebozo was very protective of Nixon;
he even rode in the
back of the limo with Nixon while I was with him.
BeBe was only nice to me when
Nixon was around
and he made it very clear that he didn't trust "dames"
and that I was only there
because Nixon
wanted me to be. BeBe watched protectively when Dick and
I went for a swim together.
Rebozo did not go
in the water. I guess he didn't want to get his guns
wet! He never was without them.
During these times,
I was instructed to come on to Nixon, and
thoroughly and enthusiastically
excite him. He
liked it and said I was "good for him," and that I
helped him a lot when he was upset.
Nixon said I could
pick him up when he was down and refresh him. I was
programmed to be funny and
silly, without a
care in the world. Nixon said I made him laugh.
Rebozo was most
often present when I downloaded Council messages to
Nixon. BeBe seemed to
understand "the
language" and so Nixon wanted him to be present when I
relayed memos because he
always had to make
the decision and give me an answer before I could go
back. That was the rule. I gave
the message to Dick
and BeBe; then the three of us stayed together
until they were able to come to an
agreement. Usually
it was a yes or no question. But no one could leave
until I was uploaded with the
return message.
When it was time
for me to leave Key Biscayne, an agent whose job it
was to prepare me to go
home, took me out
for a walk on the beach. He bent down and holding up
a shell he picked up in the
sand, 're-minded'
me that all events that happened there were now out
of my head and forever locked in
the shell. To
finalize this compartmentalization of my experience, he
threw the shell out into the surf, in
an effort to keep
the memories hidden from my conscious mind. From
there, I was helicoptered to an
airport and flown
home. This all happened before I was married at age
20.
Watergate Created a
Depressed President
During Watergate,
Nixon had a very hard time. He looked gray and
dismal, and it was very
difficult to cheer
him up. But after a drink I could lighten him up a
little. I teased President Nixon in his
down months,
telling him how cute I thought he was when I saw him on
television, even when he was in
deep trouble and
was being publicly challenged over the scandal. Due to
my programming, I was not
really able to ever
"see" him when I watched television, but was
programmed to say that. The things I
would say to him
were so opposite the truth that, as he said, he found
my statements "refreshing and
funny." These
statements seemed to be just an added bit of
entertainment to cheer up old Tricky Dick. In
those days, it
wasn't much else with Nixon; just delivering sex and
messages.
BeBe Rebozo loved
Nixon dearly. He was very protective of him and had
tender, emotional
moments with Nixon
that I was present to witness. BeBe cried when Nixon
told him he had to step down
from the
Presidency. I can still hear BeBe now as he said, "Oh no,
Boss, not after everything you've
worked so hard
for." He touched Nixon on the shoulder and was genuinely
concerned as if it was
124
happening to him.
That always confused me about Mafia guys - they would
torture or kill someone
one moment and then
turn around and show deep, caring concern for one
of their own the next. To them
loyalty was
everything.
Henry Kissinger was
not involved with BeBe Rebozo. Henry was "too
intellectual" for BeBe.
Kissinger said he
did not like to mingle with the Mob. When Kissinger
was present it was strictly
business,
concentration, work and strategizing. Pat Nixon was never
around at these times either.
Richard Nixon was
manipulated by the Mob and by the Council. He was
part of their intricate
network and when
Watergate came down, he was the most dispensable. They
viewed Kissinger as more
important, someone
they vitally needed to protect and so their strategy
dictated that Nixon would take
the public fall.
I was not sent to
sexually service Nixon after he resigned the
Presidency.
International Mind
File Postal System
Henry created a
mental postal exchange system inside my head. He
created it first visually by
telling me that
there was a large box in my head with separate boxes
inside of it and they each had a
different key. He
explained that there were rows of numbered boxes
positioned layer upon layer.
Programs were
attached to numbers or people, places, or documents,
etc., which were attached to
numbered boxes.
George Bush wanted always to be #1 in everything so
Henry had to change someone
else's number to
give George the #1 box. This system worked like a post
office so that people had a box
and they could
receive or send information at their box. This system
was the way the higher ups kept
their communication
clear and anonymous when access was necessary. It
kept the Council's messages
clear for me to
deliver accurately or to receive a message to take back
to them. It kept messages clear and
straight to be
delivered between people who were involved and who
didn't want to be identified as
knowing, or
communicating with, each other. I met with and delivered
messages to the Council, at times,
on huge ships out
in the middle of the ocean.
I was most often
helicoptered to ships, hotels, islands, or wherever I
was to deliver this
anonymous
information. Once the information had been exchanged, I was
helicoptered back. Henry
created the
programmed system for these communications. He was the
mastermind of lots of their plan,
and used me to
further it. Kissinger, Bush, Reagan, Carter, Thatcher,
Mitterrand, Trudeau, Gorbachev,
Salinger, Ford,
Nixon, etc. all participated.
Sex Paves the Way
for Diplomatic Relations
I was briefed, in
advance, about the customs of the countries we
visited, in an effort to further
diplomatic
relations. At many foreign meetings I was told, "be
invisible, and smile when smiled at." I was
also instructed to
hang back, be quiet and just listen, unless I was
cued to report information. I was
further briefed in
detail if I was to be sent in on a foreign leader or
diplomat. In addition to all the sex
training I had
acquired over the years, Henry added his 'two cents.' He
said in many foreign countries
lovemaking is an
art form. Henry expounded, "To the degree you can
match that slow deliberateness, is
the degree that you
can sexually gratify your partner." Henry spoke of
sex like the art of eating. He didn't
show any emotion,
or embarrassment; it was something he instructed me
about very openly and plainly.
He explained that
the slower and more deliberately a person performed
sex, demonstrated their level of
self-esteem,
selfassuredness and that, as a woman, I had to balance
that with a fair amount of shyness, in
order not to appear
bold. Shyness was what Henry said would soften what
otherwise would appear as
being too forward.
With one leader (a
king) I was sent to, Henry had me say, "May I have
the honor, Your Highness,
of pleasuring you
in the American way? We have many means of pleasure."
Henry said this was to deeply
125
seal an attitude
that America equaled pleasure, so diplomatic relations
would go smoother. He often
called it, "paving
the way to diplomatic relations," and he used sex as
a means to accomplish that. The
statement quoted
above also allowed me to ask for permission, so as not
to break cultural rules without
having set up a
framework for taking the King into a different
experience. I was told to strictly avoid oral
sex until close to
the end and then feel out if it was appropriate or
would be accepted.
Henry said, "I wish
I could give you precise instructions, but the
research team is only able to get
certain data. Some
is not available so I will have to trust your
judgement along the way in some of these
areas." And oral
sex was one of those areas. In front of me, Henry
explained to his research team that to
get in close enough
to someone who would have knowledge of that level
of intimate detail about a target
would be a risk he
would not want to take. I overheard him say, "She
will have to be briefed on the
cultural mores and
then her own expert skill and timing will have to
take over in limited areas such as, if
or not to offer
oral gratification." The research team was present
often when I was prepared or briefed
for an assignment
because each would often have their area of expertise
to instill into me, especially in
the area of foreign
relations and cultural differences. The research
team even had foreign members who
Henry heavily
relied upon for certain "key" countries he was targeting.
These men often had been born in
the foreign country
and so could easily and accurately relay all
customs. Henry explained, "Every country
of the world has
different customs and our job is to ensure that you
are fully aware of those customs
before you are sent
in." The members of the team changed at times as we
moved on to different
countries.
Henry had many
ethnic traits, yet was polished to an almost
non-cultural bias on the surface, so
as not to be
encumbered by his ethnicity. He treated each person as a
challenge to face and beat, even if
they were from a
culture he couldn't understand until he studied it.
The more exotic and different the
culture, the
better. Then, he would go to extremes to study it, in
order to emerge the victor because he
would understand
them totally, often understanding them more than they
did themselves. Henry usually
won, and most
people, totally unaware that there was a game of wits
going on, would have sex with me
for the night and
not even know to take the message bait when I threw
the line out. They were what
Henry called
"simpletons." And he said he despaired of them. At other
times he was grateful for
"simpletons" if
they were in strategic positions and he could use them
in the power and control game.
Then he did what he
knew best researching until he devised the ideal
strategy, and finding the best
person to pull it
off. When he knew, he put the strategy through
whomever would deliver it with the most
favorable outcome.
Within me he had two distinctly different agents -
one being Susan, the serious,
conscientious,
motherly, intellectual, organized, loving and
understanding type, and, Sharon, the clever
and often humorous
and entertaining sex slave and friend of the elite.
The World Health
Organization
The World Health
Organization (WHO) was a cover for bringing together
an inside group of
people whose
purpose and intent was much different than what was
generally thought and publicly
portrayed. Lots of
illegal activity went on without detection and
across borders internationally as this
inside group hid
its covert operations under masked projects,
purportedly for world advancement.
Among other things,
it was also a cover for drug deals, child
prostitution, heinous experiments on human
beings, illegal
sales of babies, etc. Some of the players I saw
participating were a select group of
politicians,
celebrities and leaders worldwide.
I sat in on many
meetings. I heard Ted Kennedy speak, as well as Henry
Kissinger, and there was
a group of women
who worked for the WHO that did not seem to have a
clue about what was actually
going on behind the
scenes. Many were naive, honest, pliable people and
actually played into the hands
of the corrupt
inner group without being aware that they were being
used.
126
Masked behind the
publicized "do good" activities were illegal ventures
intended to fund this
corrupt group, with
their secret, hidden motives and agendas. So while
the United States appeared to be
having benevolent
beliefs and actions, these activities were put into
motion. They sent a group to "aid"
children in foreign
countries, but behind the scenes what was actually
taking place was a masked drug
connection or some
other illegal enterprise that brought top dollar to
this group of self-selected men who
seek to eventually
control the world.
Some meetings of
the WHO were televised, but the agenda the public saw
and heard was not the
complete agenda
that was secretly carried out.
I heard and
recorded into my mind files, the words that a man spoke. He
was standing at a
microphone in a
large room filled with row upon row of stationary, red
upholstered wooden chairs,
arranged in a
semi-circular shape. I was there for Henry's usage of
stored data in my "government mind
file system." I
suppose an individual at these meetings who was not
aware of this type of technology;
using human beings
for storing and hiding information known only to the
National Security Agency and
others, would have
just assumed I was an aid or secretary to the UN, or
an assistant to Kissinger.
One day I heard a
man state, "Mr. Speaker, I would like to speak to the
issue of free trade,
internationally,
between countries." Most of the free trade these men
were REALLY alluding to was in
illegal drugs
(cocaine, heroine), pornography, prostitution, and
weaponry. They used anything that
would cull large
sums of money to fund their causes and their desires
with no thought of the human or
financial cost to
others - like the violation of basic human rights -
and had no regard to others' pain and
suffering. These
men had no scruples, no compassion or ability to
empathize with the feelings of others;
instead they were
self-seeking and ruthless - without conscience.
The following is an
example of the kinds of flashes and memory
retrieval that continued to flood
into my mind. One
day, Bobby Baker, House Appropriations Committee was
at a meeting. He was
wearing a light
tannish-brown suit and he argued with everyone about
everything, and Henry felt he
disrupted their
meetings so that nothing ever got accomplished. Henry
didn't like him at all.
At another meeting,
I heard, "Mr. Speaker, I would like to address the
subject of the arms control
race," Baker said.
Then he spoke of his concerns about Russia
escalating the arms race, that they were
gaining speed and
technology at such a pace that we the United States
would be in serious jeopardy and
at a disadvantage
if we didn't set up immediate appropriations for arms
research and arms production.
Baker appealed to
the United States' fear of being "taken over," in
order to get money appropriated for
arms; when in fact,
much of the funding was not used for what it was
designated for, but instead was
used in hidden,
covert activities for the benefit of the Council and
those politicians that were supported
by the Council.
At the time, the
World Health Organization was often an excuse to bring
together people from all
over the world.
This created an opportunity for the "inside group" to
secretly meet and intertwine their
agenda with the
public agenda of the WHO. Those in attendance who were
unaware of the New World
Order agenda, were
also unaware that there was a small cadre of people
dominating the group and
making sure they
had enough key players on the panel or board so they
could win when votes were cast
or decisions made.
In those years, I
was not able to understand these people or political
issues in the general historic
way that the public
remembers or understands. My perspective was solely
from my personal experiences.
I was generally
programmed to not listen to political information I
heard or saw. Consciously, as my
programming
dictated, I was not interested or involved in politics or
public news in any way. So this
information comes
to you, the reader, from my personal experience at
these or other meetings. After I
downloaded this
data from my mind, I actually had to ask others, or
research to find out what the
common public
historical belief was, as portrayed by the news media
back in those years.
127
I believe most
California Governors that I worked with were a part of
the WHO and other such
groups. It seems to
me that these men and their functionaries, who seek
control, hook into every
individual and key
organization that they can use in order to maintain
control of their interests. They
were strategically
placed, often under the direction of Henry Kissinger
and others, in order to insure they
got what they
wanted, when they wanted it. It was like a game to them,
and they were all on the same
team, in the same
way a crime syndicate operates.
Nuclear testing
sites, Energy Commission, NATO, Council on Foreign
Relations, House
Appropriations
Committee on Foreign Trade, and the Trilateral
Commission, were just some of the
organizations whose
meetings Kissinger took me to, both in the U.S. and
abroad.
Henry used my mind
files at meetings of the Trilateral Commission. We
sat at a table with a group
of men. There were
microphones sitting on the table. What went on
behind the scenes at these meetings
often had nothing
to do with what was outwardly portrayed. There were
meetings within meetings and
secret meetings
were held behind the scenes of other credible public
meetings. Often, the Council (not to
be confused with
the CFR) was involved in directing the way things went
although no one knew they had
any part in the
outcome.
They all spoke
their lies publicly, often directed by Kissinger the
strategist, Hope the entertainer,
and the Council
from behind the scenes.
Kissinger as Global
Mastermind
I was in Henry's
office often in my final years of High School, while
he worked heavily with Nixon
on foreign
relations. I would meet him in New York or in Washington,
DC. Sometimes the team would
brief me a month in
advance for different assignments, but Henry always
said, "It works best and is most
ideal when she is
prepared directly before the assignment and then goes
from here." There was very little
I knew to do on my
own because the team had usually filled the agenda
in order for me to deliver
culturally specific
or personally specific words and physical acts to
entice the target. The team heavily
researched every
detail and it sounded, from their conversations, like
they used separate espionage
agents to collect
some data they didn't want to ever be connected to or
associated with, as it would have
completely blown
their cover. Henry used every means available, even
down to manipulating a person
through his or her
own religious beliefs.
Henry's strength
was that he was able to remain detached and able to
pull from a wide variety of
cultural
differences in order to create the end product. Whereas, he
explained, most Americans just went
in to grab for the
product and failed, due to their lack of cultural
understanding. Henry said to me, "The
closer you can
align yourself with the subject in every way, the more
successful you will be. Therefore you
have to know him or
her as well as possible before you are sent in and
that is our job. You will only need
to be the actress,
the point person carrying out our plan. You will
think only in this area we are working
in. All else will
fall away as you are focused only on this one
particular area. You are beautiful, young,
and have expanded
sexual capabilities and we will supply the rest. All
you have to do is receive the
instructions."
Henry Kissinger groomed me to be culturally adept with
each foreign dignitary he sent me
in to be with. He
said, "This is where the success rate lies - firmly
in cultural understanding first, then
complying with
their culture's mores second, and third, is equally your
physical attractiveness and your
sexual expertise."
Henry told Nixon in my presence that this was the
reason for my success and he told
Nixon that
sometimes it took him hours to have his researchers gather
the data necessary on a foreign
target in order to
begin to prepare me for the assignment.
At one particular
meeting, we sat at a large table with a group of men
and I was seated next to
Henry. President
Nixon sat on the other side of Henry. Henry did not
smoke his cigar at this meeting.
128
Nixon told him it
was much too sensitive a meeting and for some reason
Henry complied and didn't
smoke. He usually
smoked regardless of who objected.
At key junctures in
the meetings, Henry would reach over and push his
finger into the top of my
hand. In response,
I began reciting my programmed information or
message. The message I delivered at
this particular
meeting was in Chinese or Japanese and, since I did not
consciously speak these
languages, I had no
way of knowing what the content of the message I
was delivering was. At this specific
meeting, the
foreign leaders listened to my message, and spoke back
directly to me. Although I did not
understand, I
smiled and looked at them as if I was very interested,
like I had been instructed to do. An
interpreter would
then translate the foreign leaders' response and then
Nixon or Kissinger would speak.
At other meetings,
sometimes the interpreters were women but mostly in
that country they were men.
Whatever messages I
delivered seemed to be a softening agent in the
talks because the foreign
leaders always
smiled or laughed. Sometimes, they were touched so
deeply by whatever it was I was preprogrammed
to say that they
took my hand with tears in their eyes. Due to my lack
of conscious
knowledge of the
different foreign languages, I do not know what it all
meant.
If anyone ever
questioned where Henry got me and how I was so advanced
for my young age,
Henry told them I
was a child prodigy and that I had completed my
university training abroad at a very
early age and was
good at my job, but socially shy. That explanation
served to keep them from asking me
questions later
that I could not answer. Henry usually took me out of
the meetings when they were over,
in order to avoid
situations where I would appear ignorant, should
anyone ask me questions with any
substance to them.
For the truth was that I attended public high school
and later junior college and was
of average
intelligence. I just had the advantage of programmed
capabilities that served the interests of
my controllers.
After we broke for
lunch, Henry took me to a pay phone and dialed a
number, and the person at
that location began
giving me additional data in the foreign language.
I was instructed to remember what
was said, verbatim.
Each subject was given a marker number for
identification. Henry took the phone,
talked a bit, and
jotted notes in a small black book, before he hung up.
These foreign talks
really challenged Henry Kissinger and the Council,
but they had done their
homework. Kissinger
did the same sort of diplomatic work with Reagan
when he became President.
At many of these
talks those representing our country said we were
creating peace, but what they
were really doing
was opening up trade with these foreign countries
because we needed resources they
had. Our leaders
turned it around to make it sound like the United
States was doing them a big favor and
we were being
gracious to them. Expensive gifts were often sent ahead
to foreign leaders, to arrive just
before the
President did, but I think that is as far as the real favors
went.
There were times at
night in foreign countries, when I was programmed
to have sex with Nixon.
Then I was returned
to sleep in Kissinger's room. Even though I was
being used like a machine, I still had
very sensitive
olfactory senses and Henry Kissinger was at times nearly
intolerable to share a room with
because he smelled
so bad from cigar smoke or gaseous explosions that
erupted from his body.
I was taken in and
out of Russia during the Nixon years with Kissinger
to attend NATO meetings,
SALT talks, peace
talks, and the secret hidden meetings of the Council.
Henry brought me to the
meetings to recite
any pertinent information I had stored in my "mind
files."
It was easier to
justify my presence to people like Nixon's wife after
I started working with Henry.
They would explain
I was at a meeting because of my work with Henry or
in preparation for an
international trip.
It worked the same way with Reagan, justifying my
presence for business reasons, but
I was mostly there
to pass messages or keep the President happy
...whatever it took.
129
There were times
when I was limoed to the airport and when Nixon
stepped off the plane after a
foreign trip I
would be in the back of the limo waiting for him. I was
told to crouch down so there
wouldn't be any way
of spotting me and then Nixon would get in and give
me a message for Henry or I'd
give him a message
and often we would have sex later. He would go to
the White House and shower and
freshen up and I'd
be held in a "state of suspended animation" unless
there was another job for me to do.
I'd sit blankly for
hours in the same place until I was directed that
it was, "time to move into action."
Henry Plays Chess
with Real People
During those years
my work with Henry Kissinger and others continued,
although Henry had to
begin taking more
of a back seat position in the public eye for awhile
after the Watergate scandal. His
position within the
outskirts of the Council did not change. He was an
important man for them and they
utilized him
because he was an expert strategist. I do not know exactly
what that meant but I heard many
men say that about
him over the years. I guess it means Henry knows how
to get people to move around
and do things he
says without them ever knowing they are being
manipulated or controlled ...like a
puppet master or
chess master.
Henry knew how to
think ahead in regard to key moves with key players.
I watched him. It was
akin to watching
him play chess with real people. He knew how to get
the desired outcome by motivating
certain key
players. He used researched information gathered on
targeted individuals to manipulate
them however he
wanted, through their own weaknesses, addictions and/or
obsessions. Targeted people
did not even know
that they were being influenced because he sent in
people like me who looked naive
and innocent, like
they were just being kind or nice or sexy and cute
or whatever was called for, but it
was not really what
was happening because there was always an ulterior
motive beneath the seduction
act or plan. Henry
and the men in suits always sent in the perfect
match. They hired whatever kind of girl
or woman would turn
their target on. Obviously, I was not "hired" or
paid, I was just slave labor. I saw
lists of
"programmed slaves," with numbers by their physical
descriptions, programmed expertise and
usage capabilities,
so they could be matched perfectly for certain
situations. Unfortunately, their
identities were in
code.
Henry said if you
really wanted someone to believe you about something
that was not true, you
convey it the first
time as a Freudian slip. Then you attempt to
conceal the fact you made the slip, but
you make another
Freudian slip. Then you try to say what it was you
were originally going to say and
they believe the
first statement regardless of your attempt to simply
state the truth. Then Henry said the
last line saves
your neck legally.
One day, I sat next
to Henry Kissinger as we were seated before
President Ford. Henry always said
that he had to work
harder than with any previous president to "guide"
Ford where they wanted him to
go. He said Ford
kept going off in his own direction. Henry said he was
glad Ford was not in office long.
He said Nixon was
easier for him to work with and guide.
Henry thought
Reagan was a "bimbo" and "stupid ignoramus." Those were
the words I overheard
him use to describe
Ronald Reagan to a group of men. But, when we met
with the Presidents he never let
on his true
feelings. Instead, he always "acted" the role of diplomat
all the way around so that the plans
of the Council
could be carried through as easily as possible.
Henry Kissinger was
known for looking at documents with a "magnifying
glass." He was able to
find loopholes and
incorrect wordings that would not be to their
advantage in agreements, treaties, etc.,
before the United
States signed. He was very thorough. Often, I sat by
him the whole time he was
reviewing a
document so he could reach over and tap me to gain access
to some needed information
stored in my mind
files.
130
Henry was very
slow, deliberate and methodical. He thought that way,
talked that way and
moved that way. He
ate European-style with his fork upside down, like I
was taught was bad manners.
And, he was
obsessed with business. He was usually very serious; I do
not believe I ever truly saw him
have any fun. He
avoided social occasions whenever possible, attending
when necessary to further
political agendas
or the cause of the New World Order.
In the beginning
Henry had to install huge amounts of data into me, but
as time went on he didn't
have to place in as
much because the database was already in place. I
heard him explain this to people
who were "in the
know." I also overheard him say that a man might have
served the purpose better
because there were
certain times he said my presence as a woman was
questioned when the subjects
were sensitive. I
am sure they remedied this situation by programming
more males for the job. Henry
was less interested
in how I looked and more interested in how I
worked. For mind file use he
programmed me to
dress very tailored and conservative. They dressed me
in attire to fit specific
assignments.
There must have
been other girls and women being used for the same
thing, in the same ways,
because I heard
Henry compare me, saying I was more reliable than the
others--more able to capture the
details and never
make mistakes. He used to say he was saving me for
the important assignments
because of my
reliability. I now believe the fact that I was
poly-fragmented contributed to my success. I
could only be used
on a limited basis because he was afraid there might
be questions asked. To others, I
just looked like I
was smart. They did not know I wasn't operating in a
conscious state, but instead had
been programmed,
drugged, and electroshocked to maintain THETA
brainwave patterns used to retain
the vast amounts of
data and keep it hidden from my conscious mind.
He was proud of
himself for the way he had loaded me up with data and
could access my mind
files in public
without others knowing what he was doing. He used
different techniques over the years
but one he was most
proud of was what he called "time programs."
Some mind files
were organized by a numerical system and Henry could
access them by calling
out a certain
number. He combined this concept with the time of day in
order to remain less
conspicuous. He
would point to his watch and say, "It's 1:30," and that
would correspond to file number
130 in my system of
mind files and gave him automatic access to that
particular file. Henry thought the
time reference to
accessing my files was brilliant. Using this method,
no one could tell that he was doing
anything other than
simply stating the time of day for that particular
day or some other hypothetically
scheduled date.
This way his uninformed peers would not be able to find
out what he was doing and what
type of secret
technology he possessed.
Henry had to be
very cautious with whom he shared information about me.
Most people did not
carry the clearance
to be allowed to know about the top secret
government projects that created such
technology as
programmed, robotical slaves. People saw me working with
him at meetings and other
places, but very
few knew how I worked or that I was a government
programmed robot. The only ones
who I knew were
aware of this technology were certain top politicians,
Bob Hope, some of his 'cronies,'
and the Council.
Henry kept the technology very, very secret and if
there were any problems with me
while we were in
public, he would escort me out of the room and go
about resorting and/or refiling my
mind files to get
them straightened out.
Henry gave me
instructions at times from a closed circuit television
before I was flown to DC, and
at other times he
waited and instructed me while I sat next to him at a
round table with other men
present. These four
or five other men in suits knew exactly what was
going on and why I was being
briefed. At times,
each of them would have different input to instill
into my head. After each had put in
their information,
I was told, "And when the time is right, it will all
come out just like clockwork." These
were the words they
used to program the correct delivery of the
material they had just instilled. They
said I was doing a
good job in getting information from people as well
as delivering information.
131
There were times
when I was let out of the limo and escorted into the
White House by a Secret
Service agent. This
agent knew he was just "acting" as my escort for
the evening, and would conveniently
disappear when I
was targeting some man (or woman) I was told to give a
message to, and then the agent
would reappear to
take me home after I was finished. I was often
dressed in very sexy evening gowns,
gloves, and high
heels. Sometimes the dresses were totally backless and
I would be dressed in sexy
nylons,
undergarments, just in case my assignment required later
evening sexual attention. I was taken
to a beauty salon
and had my hair, nails and make up done before being
dressed. Sometimes the Secret
Service agents took
me to get ready.
There were times
Henry gave me little pills and instructed me to slip
them into my glove to use if
the person I was
targeting was not cooperating in giving up
information. I rarely found the pills
necessary. After
sex the men seemed to listen intently to the words I
was saying to them and would open
up and give me the
information I was instructed to get. Henry explained
to the men in suits that I could
say things after
sex that "influenced the men deeply."
It was at the White
House that I did my best work and met the people
whom I was to influence or
as they called
it..."seed." Over time I learned that seeding meant to
drop an idea that would start an
individual thinking
in a certain direction that would support my
controller's position. For example,
information that
would influence a person's thinking about upcoming
legislation, or information (false
or true) in regard
to key individuals (politicians, leaders, wives,
husbands, etc.).
The White House was
an easy place to work because there were so many
side rooms we could
secretly slip into.
Sometimes I would get some "target" into a room,
like an office and lock the door
behind us and
seduce him right there. The men usually got very excited,
especially if it was their first
escapade. I would
assure them that this little secret was safe with me
because Senator so and so (my
escort) wouldn't
like it if I was fooling around either. This assured
them that 1, too, had a good reason to
keep the secret to
protect myself, which usually made them feel more
willing to take the risk. Sometimes
I had to take the
targeted person outside the building to another
location and have sex with them. That
was a little
trickier, but I could do it.
As far as I know,
the "targets" never did know that in having sex with
me, they were really being
taken advantage of,
or politically raped and coerced by the Council
itself-five men in suits who cleverly
installed their own
agenda. In this way, the Council controlled money
and/or coerced many people in key
places, often
without the person ever being aware of it.
Henry usually
seemed very proud of me after I delivered messages or
extracted information
successfully from
people. He acted like a greedy old man when he
debriefed me. Often, he insisted on
debriefing me
himself because he said the words that came out of me
were "fresh" in the first debriefing
and were key to
issues at hand. The debriefings could take up to an
hour for just one evening spent with
a targeted
individual.
Henry said I helped
him do his best work.
Accompanying Henry
to Foreign Countries
Sometimes when
Henry and I traveled internationally the time difference
worked in his favor. For
instance, we could
leave after I got out of school on Friday, reach our
foreign destination the next
morning and it
would still be Friday when we arrived. Henry worked it
so I wouldn't miss more school
than necessary, and
he made sure I slept on the 8-12 hour flight. We
always flew first class when we flew
as private
citizens. At other times we flew on military or government
aircraft during times he was in
public office.
There were occasions when I would leave school and fly
with Henry, or my mom would put
me on a plane and I
would meet Henry somewhere like New York and then
we would fly the rest of the
132
way together. Once
seated on the flight, he would press the top of my
hand and I would go to sleep as
commanded. When he
pressed my hand in surroundings where I had been
commanded many times for
the same thing, he
didn't have to give commands - like sleep. I
automatically knew, so over time, things
became pretty
routine. I didn't eat while we were out of the States,
when we only went for one meeting
and were gone 24-48
hours. He would simply tell the stewardess I was
sleeping and my sleep was more
important than
food. So she would bring him food and I would sleep. And
although I was asleep, I was
aware of what
happened around me; I was recording, as commanded.
There were
occasions that we didn't fly back in time for me to go home
and I was taken by limo
directly to Taft
High and dropped off a block away from the school to
walk the rest of the way, just before
school began on
Monday morning.
Henry took me to
France, at times to Marseilles in the South of France,
to meetings of the elite.
We often met with
bankers, as well as other leaders and key
businessmen. They met at round tables and
each pulled papers
from their briefcases to share. Henry sat his
briefcase by his side on the floor because
he had me and had
little need for papers unless they were presented
merely for the effect that it would
have to help
influence someone. If papers were needed, he always had
the best, the neatest, cleanest,
most professional
paperwork money could buy. Everything was planned for
effect. He gave varying
reasons for my
presence, explaining when asked who the young lady was,
that I was his personal
secretary and that
I was advanced far beyond my years and was quite a
help to him. When he began the
meeting, if none of
the men objected to my presence; as instructed, I
sat next to Henry and took notes.
While I appeared to
simply be taking sketchy notes in shorthand at the
meeting, when he debriefed me
later on, he had me
recite, verbatim, what each and every man said at
the meeting. Henry liked for me to
be present at
meetings when he felt that sort of information could
later be important for his use. Henry
loved to come out
of meetings and go immediately back to his room to
debrief me. He would sit at a table
writing diagrams as
I recited what I had heard. Then he would have more
data to use to strategize with.
If there was to be
a second follow-up meeting, he would be on top,
ready to drop his carefully planned
ideas and solutions
into the meetings with foreign leaders or
businessmen. Henry called this
"International
Business."
At times when I was
sent alone, he said the information he got was
better than if he had gone
himself, "because
it is distilled," he explained. So he sent me to many
locations as a "presidential model"
to Presidents, and
to many leaders at parties at the Rockefeller's and
Bob's, and also sent me abroad. I
knew whom I was to
target, because Henry had shown me a picture before.
I was sent to foreign
embassies to
entertain foreign ambassadors that were working for Henry.
Often they worked for the
United Nations in
order to have some peace-loving humanitarian effort
that justified the U.S. presence in
a foreign country,
and then Henry and the others would go about doing
their real business.
There were other
times we traveled by trains in different countries
like Russia and Henry would
debrief me in his
private compartment. We slept on the train and
traveled to meetings during the
daytime. Henry said
the food was bad, so he would often bring some of
his own food in a brown paper
bag that he kept in
his briefcase. At the meetings he didn't need
papers because I was with him. People
thought he was
really smart and had an excellent memory because of
that. It got to the point where I
could literally
"read his mind," as he termed it, and give him a simple
answer on paper that others
wouldn't see and
then he would take off on the data or idea.
We also traveled to
China (both sides), Japan, England, France, Italy,
Israel, Germany, and wherever
else he needed to
go to do his "International Business." Often when
Henry was extended an invitation to
attend a social
event in a foreign country, he declined saying he was
tired and suggested they take me
instead. Then he
got what he really wanted anyway - the information
from them without having to
expend social
energy to get it. Then, before I went he loaded me up
with questions to ask the leader and
instructions about
the stance I was to take sexually with him or her.
Dressed in appropriate clothing, I
133
was off. There were
bullfights with leaders in Spain, polo games to
watch Prince Charles, and golf
with others. The
events I attended were indigenous to the individuals
and their countries.
At the end of trips
abroad, if there wasn't a McDonald's to help me
remember that I was really in
California (wink),
then there had to be some type of trauma to seal the
experience off from my conscious
awareness. Henry
had others perform the trauma; he wouldn't do it. He
said it was out of his league. So
the men that
accompanied him "took care of me" when the need arose.
When we finally arrived at
McDonald's, I was
usually starving. There, I was told I was in Woodland
Hills in order to “re-mind” me
to forget.
McDonald's spelled safety and the end of my assignment.
Because I was a
robot, and so, "security proven," I was allowed to
function as the go between for
Henry and the
Council. They even gave me things to bring back to Henry
that couldn't be safely delivered
any other way. I
was flown to remote places to meet with them and then
flown back for debriefing by
Henry. He always
seemed so pleased with the information, like he was
getting just what he wanted. The
Council often sent
messages to people directly, bypassing Kissinger.
When I would deliver the message I
would tell them it
was from "the group." That was how the Council often
identified themselves to
insiders who knew
how the group functioned, but didn't know their
actual identities. Over the years they
changed their
'nickname' so as not to be conspicuous.
From my
perspective, no one in government office knew as much about
mind control as Henry
Kissinger. They
might have been told "the basics" but it didn't seem
like most of them were aware of the
extent to which a
person could be enhanced with programming and used
especially that an individual
could possess the
capability of organizing and recording the
conversations of a whole group of people at
a meeting.
Kissinger: The
Council's Top Dog
One time at a
Gubernatorial Ball, Henry got very mad at Ted Kennedy
because Ted tried to take
me off to another
room to have sex with him. Henry got very angry with
Ted who was a Senator at that
time and threatened
him with exposure if he did not back off. As a
result, Kennedy left me alone, at least
for that evening.
At other times Ted Kennedy forced me into very
violent and sadistically torturous sex. It
was often scary for
me when Henry wasn't around to make sure certain
people didn't rough me up.
Bob Hope didn't
seem to care or at least he didn't watch me as closely
as Henry did when I was
with him, but Henry
did not seem to know this. Bob lied to him
sometimes about who I was seeing, and
sometimes Bob used
me with people Henry wasn't supposed to know about.
Bob had his own separate
interests in using
me with people who would benefit him but Henry told
Bob what to do as far as
government issues
went. Bob was just a useful servant who had a lot to
offer ...connections, money,
fame, and slaves.
Bob suited Henry's needs to a tee, handling the
social scene and celebrities. Bob's social
elite contacts
greatly added fuel to Kissinger's long range plans as he
found places to use different people
of influence in
strategic positions. He just waited for the right
opportunity to arise.
Henry didn't view
the President as anyone necessarily having any power.
He knew how they were
manipulated and he
liked to be the one who was pulling the strings. He
told me once that ambassadors
to foreign
countries have more power and control than the President of
the United States. I didn't
understand then
what he was talking about, but just listened and nodded.
Henry was the top
dog as far as the Council was concerned. He had the
mind they needed that
could so carefully
strategize plans far in advance and so he usually
got the desired results. In the
Council's eyes,
Rockefeller was more dispensable because he had money
and power but didn't have the
mastermind that
they saw in Henry. So Henry was given everything he
needed in order to fulfill their
plan. If he wasn't
in office it didn't much matter - he always had
access to the person sitting at the reigns
134
of political power.
Behind the scenes, Henry controlled decisions and
actions taken by the State
Department in
matters of foreign relations, always attempting to bring
about a situation where the
Council was in
total control globally. They saw it as a game, a
lifelong plan, with the outcome hopefully
being that,
finally, this generation of the global elite would succeed
in the game that their forefathers had
not been able to
pull off. It created ambition and drive among them.
All I saw these men
do was manipulate and control people by covert
means. It seemed that most
people they
targeted had no idea they were even being manipulated or
set up. When a country needed
some shoring up,
messages, or coercion to further the implementation of
their plan, then they would
send Henry or me or
both of us, depending on the importance of the
situation. I was merely an extension
of Henry,
delivering "strategic influence" in ways he said he never
could. He felt that he would have more
influence with many
of the men he wanted to coerce or manipulate to see
or do things his way by sending
in a soft, cuddly,
human sexual toy. He often joked with insiders that
his sphere of influence was limited
but he could use me
to get in those "hard to get places." Henry said I
could make those men twist into a
pretzel and so he
used me in many foreign countries to tap into vast
resources, the human resources he
needed to puppet.
He felt that those human resources would lead to
natural resources and that's where
the money would be.
Henry was often referred to among the insiders as a
"genius of his time." So the
presidents came and
went but Henry was there behind the scenes molding
me, with Bob's help, for the
Council benefit.
Mind control was the secret weapon that Henry
perfected over the years.
Usually the
individual would be so busy focused on what was planned
that he would miss the
hidden agenda that
was taking place. Henry loved this tactic. Sometimes
these guys would be taken into
Henry's confidence
(the oldest trick in the world to get people to be
on your side, and feel important so
they will
cooperate) and told I was an espionage operative, but he
didn't tell them my capabilities so they
wouldn't be able to
imagine what I was really doing or what I was
capable of.
Henry and Bob often
did deals together, sometimes involving
"influencing" our troops overseas,
or influencing a
Senator, Governor, celebrity, a President, or a world
leader. Sometimes Henry Kissinger
told Bob Hope to
make certain connections for me in regard to people I
was to be placed with in and out
of California.
"I am the light of
the world. He that follows Me shall not walk in
darkness, but shall have the light of
life." -- John 8:12
135
Brice Taylor -
Thanks for the Memories
Chapter Thirteen:
Bob Hope “Let me entertain you.”
Bob Hope involved
me with many celebrities. His parties were
star-studded, filled with the
glamorous, the
famous, the rich. If people did not have a title or
talent they could buy themselves into his
circle of
"exclusive people."
ZaZa Gabor was
often in attendance. Lucille Ball was his friend also.
She was often drunk. Also
present were Peter
Finch, Alan Arkin, Dezi Arnez, Bernadette Peters,
Suzanne Sommers-to name a few.
Bob rarely drank at
his own parties. Perhaps he wanted to stay in
control.
One night at a
party, the trees outside began moving from a helicopter
downdraft. Lights from the
ground illuminated
the helicopter and the extravaganza that followed.
It was an extraordinary show.
Guests were
gasping, "Oooh, ahhh," as they watched beautiful women
dropped by tether down into the
party, wearing very
skimpy, elaborate, glittery costumes that were set
aglow by the lights.
Bob liked fanfare.
Some of the women wore only body glitter in scant
places. The "elite," as they
were often called,
were encouraged to choose a girl, any girl they
wished for their 'personal party favor'
and enjoy her as
they wished. Girls in skimpy aprons, but otherwise
naked, served champagne and
chocolates on
silver platters. If a man wanted her in addition to the
candy or drink, she complied. Every
desire, every whim
was satisfied. These girls were totally compliant.
At times, children
were there. After I had children, sometimes even my
daughter Kelly was there
to be used. The
children were held in reserve in a back room for men
with 'alternate' sexual preferences.
From a very early
age my daughter was well-trained sexually, just like
the other children. It was all very
bad, but Bob's
contacts were paid--in favors or connections. Bob didn't
need money, but connections
always came in
handy.
At many of Bob's
parties there were no rules, no restrictions, no
boundaries. Sex was allowed
anywhere and
everywhere. To partake only required an oath of secrecy.
And many partook.
Bob was in charge
of me at these times, but I also had an alternate
agenda as dictated by the
Council. I was
often preprogrammed to target certain key individuals at
these parties that they wanted to
influence. Some
people spent the night at Bob's house if they were too
tired to go home.
U.S. Senators like
Alan Cranston, governors, congressmen, celebrities,
even foreign ambassadors
and dignitaries,
were in attendance at different times. Military
people, also. People were invited if they
had something to
offer to Bob or "the cause"...the New World Order.
Reagan attended
Hope's parties at times. So did Nancy.
When the parties
were over, Bob liked for me to sit on his lap and feed
him his favorite piece of
See's candy,
followed by what he called, "his favorite piece of ass."
He always laughed when he said, "You
feed me and I'll
feed you." But I never got to eat the candy, only him.
Bob liked for me to
take off his watch (per program) while I was
sitting on his lap and carefully
put it on the table
by the chair. He loved it when I was silly and
giggly and teased him, but he did not like
me to carry that
attitude to bed. Bob always asked me to do things
nicely the first time. He said, "There
won't be a second
time ...that you'll remember," and he held up the
zapper (stun gun). Some nights he
teased me and said
it was really just a bug zapper, but then it would
bite me, and it hurt.
136
In bed I was
supposed to be serious and passionate, not silly. He would
say, "Show me your
tail feathers," and
I would take off my panties and turn around. Then
he would hold me on either side of
my hips to "examine
the merchandise," and give it a "stamp of
approval," which was a spankie. Bob loved
to give me
spankings, not real hard ones, just enough to activate my
sex program.
Bob liked for me to
put on the pretty lacy nighties or teddies he left
out for me. So I did. He had a
butler who would
bring him drinks or whatever he wanted before bed - he
often liked a "hot toddy." If he
wanted a regular
drink, he would have me pour it for him from crystal
decanters that he had in his room.
Bob snored at times
while he slept. I was usually taken away early the
next morning, sometimes
even before Bob
woke up. The butler or some other man in a suit would
come to get me and deliver me to
the waiting limo.
Sometimes I would fly home by plane, but was often
helicoptered. Endless songs that
commanded my mind
played inside my head at appropriate times to
're-mind' me. When I was taken to
the Palm Springs
area the song lyrics, "In the desert you can't
remember your name... " helped me forget
- until I
remembered.
Pornography,
Hollywood Style
Late at night, I
was programmed to walk out of our Woodland Hills home
and down a block or so
to Royar Street
where a black sedan picked me up and whisked me to
Universal Studios or other
locations, to work
for Bob filming porn. The sedan took me through a
chain link fence and past a security
booth where the
driver had to stop and check in with the guard to gain
clearance to the lot. Then he
dropped me off in
front of a very plain-looking building, with just a
door to it. There were wooden step
platforms up to the
door.
Bob often watched
while pornography was filmed. They usually filmed at
night so they would
have, "more
freedom," as Bob would say. Men at the studios, wearing
t-shirts and jeans, dressed me in
all kinds of sexy
garments and made my body up with all kinds of
make-up. One night a man handed me
a beautiful, thick
wooden and gold hanger from which hung a small teddy
made of nothing but a series of
vertical strips of
ribbon that created a see-through effect. Bob
followed me into the dressing room while I
slipped on black
stockings, garter belt, heels and then the teddy. The
black-ribboned teddy was belted at
the waist but I was
naked underneath and you could see through and
between all the ribbons. I was
instructed to lay
out and get a suntan before filming, and I wasn't
allowed to have tan lines on my back or
shoulders. They put
makeup on my breasts so I would appear tan all
over. The make up they put on my
body was really put
on heavy and was very itchy and uncomfortable. The
oily kind was less itchy but
didn't stay on as
well as the drier type. There was another man who did
my hair, often in curls or in a
side ponytail. They
used curling irons and designed all sorts of hair
creations. I just sat there while they
chose how I would
appear; my hair, nails, toenails, make-up, and
costumes. And then, I did whatever
they told me to do.
Finally, they draped me with whatever jewelry they
decided on. At times body jewels
were glued onto my
body. Once they glued little sparkly rhinestones all
over my skin and filmed me in a
skimpy white
bikini-type outfit. The costumes were always different,
unique and original. Bob wanted
me to be like
Dorothy Lamour, but I didn't know who she was. He talked
about lots of old actresses that
I'd never heard of.
There were lights and cameras all over the place in
the halls, and backstage was full of
all sorts of
costumes on racks. Bob liked pornography with feathers so
he had a man work with me on the
act, including
songs and dances. Bob said it was, "porn for the
sophisticates, not just for low-lifers." Bob
saw pornography as
an art form and went into a very deeply loving,
emotional mode while it was filmed.
When they finished
filming that's when he wanted me the most.
Another man was
assigned to "work me up," training me for the act. This
porn was filmed
Hollywood-style all
the way, with glitter, diamonds, flair, special
props and stage lighting. I usually sang
beforehand and Bob
made sure that I had a pre-recorded voice tape so I
could sing but not have to be
concerned with
putting power behind my voice while I was doing the
sexual acts. The whole show was
directed by another
man who told the male porn actor and I what to do.
The prop man listened to the
director and moved
props all around, while the camera and lights men
fell in line. There were many
137
different themes
and many nights when pornography was filmed. One night
Bob showed Hugh
Hefner some of his
porn in the back room at one of Bob's parties. I was
in the room, but Bob acted like I
wasn't real or
really there. I was.
USO Tours
In my late teens
and early 20's I was taken aboard U.S. Navy aircraft
carriers when Bob was doing
a show on his USO
tours, to "entertain the troops." I had several
personalities who were specially trained
to sing and dance,
and many personalities who were expertly trained to
dance and strip. Usually Bob and
I were flown into a
base and then helicoptered the rest of the way to
the ship.
On tour with Bob
there were large bands, with lots of music and lights.
Red, white, and blue
banners decorated
the stage where we performed. Sailors stood packed
together to watch the show.
If the media was
there Bob totally controlled what they captured on
camera, what segments could
be filmed, and when
they had to leave. One time when I came out on
stage, they began shooting my part,
and after the show
Bob had a huge fit (he could be very temperamental)
and threatened to break their
equipment on the
spot if they didn't give him the film. They gave him
the film. This way Bob controlled
what was shown to
the general public.
The shows usually
took place on the outside decks. Professional make-up
artists made up my
whole body. For one
show, I was dressed in a white 'navy' dress, only
it wasn't like the regular standard
uniforms the women
in the navy wore. It was a specially sewn costume,
short and extra feminine with
lace top and scoop
neckline. I had special white lace panties with
little anchors on them. For one show I
sang Anchors Away
after which Bob would "joke them!"
What the "boys"
didn't know was that Bob knew how to control their
emotions with certain
specific words and
phrases and songs. He knew how to "lighten them up,"
get them really "emotional"
and worked up, and
then he would slip in suggestions, keyed to
programs, that "helped them with certain
unwanted
attitudes." I overheard the Council making jokes about the
"herds" (the troops) and how
stupid and easily
led they were.
At the shows where
I was present, singing usually came first, then
Bob's jokes, and then another
song and dance.
Once I did a semi-strip dance, never "took it all off"
for "the boys." In order to project a
semblance of
'wholesomeness,' I just stripped down to skimpy bras and
panties, and also took off my
heels, dress,
nylons and garter belt. I was instructed to wear those
for "the effect" of taking them all off.
After shows,
sometimes I was taken to the Admiral's and/or Captain's
quarters to further
"entertain" him in
the privacy of his room. These officers displayed
attitudes created by years and years
of being honored
with medals and ribbons for "service to the country."
The Council often slipped
messages to Naval
officers, through me, possibly without the officers'
knowledge.
I never knew my
exact location; I was not allowed to know. We
entertained the Air Force and
Army, also, but I
was used more often with the Navy.
Bob took me to a
specific recording studio in Southern California to
pre-record the songs I was to
sing before doing a
show for "the troops." In the recording studio, I
wore headphones that played back
into my ears the
music I was singing so that I could stay in tune. I
enjoyed singing and the studios could
make anyone's voice
sound good, but Bob liked me to sing soft, breathy,
high and sexy. Sometimes, in
the beginning, he
would sit just outside the recording room where he
could hear the music and would
cue me so we could
get it just right.
138
Once I was
programmed to sing The Star Spangled Banner, in a really
sexy manner for the
troops. When it was
time to sing it live, they played the tape and I
sang along, because it was hard to sing
and dance at the
same time and maintain good voice quality. In this
way, I could put my all into dancing,
splits and all,
without being concerned with the song. (You can imagine
my amazement when I began
healing and
integrating personalities and discovered I could do the
splits! I never consciously knew that I
could do that.)
I found the lights
that shone on us while performing to be blinding.
Bob taught me to not look into
them but to look
past them so they would not bother me so much.
Another time when I
went with Bob to entertain the troops, they wrapped
me in an American flag.
I had on a tiny
sparkling, red, white, and blue lacey bikini and
sparkling red high heels. Two soldiers, in
green army uniforms
and boots held me up, one holding onto my feet and
the other holding me up
around my
shoulders. As they turned me, the flag unfolded off of me and
slowly I was unfurled to bright
lights and lots of
soldiers yelling, whistling and cheering. In
addition to the entertainment, this was part
of my 'spin
programming.' Bob had the microphone and had been telling
jokes, but stopped as they
unrolled me. He
pointed to me while the drums rolled. When I was
unfurled, they played The Stripper
and I danced around
while all of the guys cheered.
For other shows, I
had a feather plume on my bottom that went up my
back. The costumes were
always different. I
rolled around on the floor, did the splits and
"spread 'em," as instructed, for the boys.
Sometimes I sang,
sometimes I just danced, and sometimes for smaller
private audiences, I stripped all
the way. And there
were times I was just there to dance seductively for
Bob's personal and private
pleasure later on
in the evening.
After the show,
some man would put a prod or stun gun to my forehead. I
totally collapsed into
his arms and he
carried me over and laid me down until it was time to
leave. The physical sensation I
experienced was a
jolt of white-hot electricity, and then I felt very,
very cold. This was the reaction to the
electroshock. The
man delivering the electricity also delivered
programming to me. Before and after he
zapped me, he said,
"You are fat and ugly and no man could ever be
attracted to you." As commanded, I
carried the belief
that I was fat and ugly and I never would have
believed I was attractive enough to
perform on stage,
had I begun to remember. They would zap me with
electroshock either on the
forehead, the base
of my skull, or on my back or thighs. For some
reason on this occasion, Bob laughed
just before they
zapped me. He had some goon do it - he rarely did.
I was often in very
poor condition when we were helicoptered away and
Bob laughed and made
excuses for my
listlessness, saying things like, "Ah, don't worry about
her, the kid's just had too much to
drink." Truth was I
wasn't even allowed to drink, not even water. My
physical reactions were all from the
aftereffects of the
electroshock intended to erase my memory.
Another show I was
taken to was for the boys in the Army. Bob wore an
Army uniform, just like
the soldiers, and
made jokes about being just like "one of the fellas"
in his uniform. They loved it and
cheered. Bob could
get away with saying just about anything to them and
they would laugh. When he
introduced me, he
said, "Watch this little one shake her tail feather!"
I came out with a glittery bra and a
g-string with tail
feathers attached to the back. I danced carrying
matching purple feathers in my hands
and placed them
over my breasts and then turned around and held them
over my bottom.
When I was winding
down my act, I was instructed to distribute all but
the last of the feathers to
soldiers in the
audience and then turn my back to them, spread my legs
far apart, turn my head and say,
"Sorry boys, I need
to leave something to keep me warm!"
I felt like I was
on lots of naval bases in the United States at some
time or another. Sometimes for
entertaining "the
boys" with Bob, but more often for programming. The
programming at these bases was
139
torturous. I was
hung upside down in tanks filled with water or gases.
There also were chairs with
straight backs and
arm rests, with bands that fit tightly around my
forehead, wrists and ankles. They also
used electroshock
and light and sound equipment, combined with food and
sleep deprivation. I was
subjected to lots
of high tech equipment and machines. I didn't have a
clue what these machines actually
did or why my
controllers were torturing me with them.
Bonded To Bob
Bob took me with
him to lots of places when I was 16 to 21 (1967-1972).
Wherever we were, or
whomever I was to
be with, I usually came with the silver limo. I would
be held in the back and no one
from the outside
could tell I was there. I was accustomed to performing
oral sex to whomever I was
instructed, and in
limos and public places it meant swallowing. As a
result I would become sick some
days when there
were a lot of men "to do."
Sometimes the limo
would be full of Bob's friends and I would be told
to wait in the back after a
premier, gala or
show openings, etc. Bob would bring his friends "along
for the ride" and they got to
"sample his
goodies" is what he would say to his friends. One evening
at a Hollywood event that took
place in front of
Gromin's Chinese Theatre, Elizabeth Taylor looked
curiously past Bob as he stood in
front of the
entrance to the limo I was "parked" in. She asked him who
I was. Then she made fun of him,
saying, "Couldn't
you at least get one that doesn't look like a child?
She doesn't even have any breasts!"
They didn't seem to
get along too well.
My programming made
me feel bonded to Bob Hope. Almost like being
married or comfortable
being with him,
like it was second nature to be with him. I was
programmed to know what he liked so I
could easily please
him. He liked to find me in his bathtub, full of
bubbles, giggling and happy and ready
for him. He liked
for me to take off his shoes, rub his (smelly) feet,
inch up his legs, unzip his pants, and
perform oral sex,
but stop just before he orgasmed and wait a while
before continuing. Following
program command, I
sat on his lap, kissed him, and told him how
handsome he was, as he sat in his
favorite winged
back chair in his room. He had a footstool that I sat
on to rub his feet.
Bob did not always
want sex actually, but always liked to be reminded
of it by talking about sexual
things or how young
I was. He loved young women and I was just that,
and always was young to him
because he was
older than the hills! He was older than my father. He
could have been my grandfather,
with nearly a 50
year age difference between us. I had been trained all
my life to please older men. I
knew just how to
treat them, flatter them, and make them feel good,
psychologically and, of course,
physically. Bob
sexually desired me from ages 16-20 or so, after that
he just had sex with me, almost as a
convenience to him.
When I married, his sexual desire seemed to change.
During my teen years he'd take
me around to
friends, parties, clubs, and he bragged to whomever he was
with, that he still got the 'young
stuff.'
I do not remember
ever being involved in satanic trauma with Bob. But
he must have known and
liked what it
created from my childhood years. He was above the
trappings of satanism, like most of the
higher ups. They
looked at people who practiced satanism as low level,
but the job had to be done
(trauma base for
mind control) and they rationalized it by saying,
"look how beautifully she turned out."
Bob's Parties
I had lots of party
girl personalities programmed for Bob. Bob spent a
greater amount of time with
me when I was a
teenager, until I was married. The personalities
dedicated and devoted to Bob were
clever and
programmed with silly jokes for Bob's company. Bob liked me
to start the parties out right, so
guests were served
mixed drinks, champagne, hors d'oeuvres, etc. Then
Bob had me entertain in skimpy
little outfits he
provided, such as a red leotard, with netting around
my wrist, red fishnet stockings and
140
red sparkly high
heels. I'd sing and dance and would strip if it was an
appropriate time. One of the
first times Bob had
me start the party, he said, "You took control of
the room!" He seemed surprised.
When I stripped in
front of couples, I did a lot of the same 'couple
bonding' techniques that I did
with couples in the
intimacy of their own bedrooms. I was programmed to
say something about the
husband to the wife
like, "God you have good taste in men! I wish I
could find one like this." And while I
said it, I would
lasso him with a silk scarf or feathers and pull him
close, usually to my bare navel or
chest. Or I'd say
to the husband, "You have won the charms of one of
the most beautiful women in the
world! You must be
quite a man." And I would go on and on whispering,
as if just to them, yet still
having everyone in
the room watch. Usually, unless Bob said it wasn't
appropriate, I'd eventually strip
and it seemed to
loosen everyone up and very often I invited them if
they cared to, to join me. It was
usually like
watching a group of little kids doing something naughty.
Everyone would stand up and start
getting naked,
pulling off their clothes and throwing them all over the
floor. Then they would go skinnydipping
or off to a side
room for sex. People later told Bob the experience
really stimulated their sexuality
and they had not
had such great sex in 20 years of marriage.
Different nights
brought different types of people together, usually
carefully matched and preselected
so they would
congeal. Most of the couples were usually older and the
men were businessmen,
politicians,
bankers, stock brokers, movie and music artists, and other
people that were important to
Bob's interests.
The parties' guest lists were planned and coordinated
to match up and network people
who they needed to
get together, or groups with similar sexual
preferences like gays, lesbians,
heterosexuals, or
pedophiles, so they could feel free to let their hair
down. Unfortunately, after it
happened Bob owned
them.
Often, people did
drugs at Bob's if they wanted to. At some parties,
drugs and alcohol were in
large supply,
usually in labeled dishes or on little platters.
Everything had little ribbon identifier tags or
small signs, "so
people knew what they were getting into," Bob would
say.
For some private
parties, Bob had me act like I was his dummy and he
would load me up with
most of the lines
so he wouldn't have to think so much or memorize the
jokes. He often had me say the
key lines so he
could easily bounce off of them and deliver a one
liner. He dressed me in skimpy clothes
and he put his hand
up my back like he was making me move like a dummy.
He did that dummy gig
often or had me
mime with him or mime alone. When people got high they
really liked the mime act,
especially if there
were strobe lights flashing on and off.
Bob usually had
some real maids who were older and who really cleaned
and served. I only had to
do that if it was
the way they (Henry, Bob, and the Council) had
planned for me to go in on a target. For
example, I would
serve the target champagne with two strawberries in
it, and then I'd say to him, "Could
I eat your
...(pause)....uh...strawberry?" I'd wiggle all over and
smile or giggle. Sometimes the men would
blush, but usually
they would smile and say, "Why yes!"
As programmed, I
would take the man's drink and take him by the hand to
a side bedroom and
say, "Can I suck
your '----' now?" Then I'd perform as programmed. To
cover himself, Bob had me say,
"Please don't tell
Mr. Hope about this." But other times Bob told me to
say, "Bob wanted to share with
you the pleasure he
gets on a regular basis." It all depended on the
angle they were using according to the
information that
had been gathered on the man prior to the evening.
Before I left the room I was
instructed to show
the man to the adjoining bathroom and shower, and
offer him towels, combs,
deodorant, dryers,
etc., anything he might need to freshen up, and I'd
explain he was free to rest, sleep or
shower. If it was a
serious target for the Council, I would stay with
the man longer, sometimes all night
and at times I was
instructed to take him away from the party,
somewhere quiet, where it was just the
two of us. I would
take him wherever I was instructed - to a hotel,
park, beach, restaurant, disco, etc. If it
141
was a serious
target they got the red carpet treatment, if not they
still got sex. Prince Charles was the
red carpet sort,
where minor politicians or businessmen were less
catered to.
At other parties I
carried a silver tray with a glass of champagne on
it and I'd have a cherry stem
with a cherry
dangling out of my mouth. Seductively I would say, "Would
you like a cherry, sir?" and
then I'd take him
to another room for sex. Or I'd put a very expensive
gourmet chocolate truffle in my
mouth and say to a
target, "Would you like one of these?" as I slowly
and sensually took it in and out of
my mouth, sucking
and licking it, and if he said yes, I would put it on
the edge of my lips and say, "Oops,
this is the last
one, do you share?" If he indicted he did, I would
lean over and share it with him. Then I'd
ask him if he
wanted seconds and if he said yes, I would take him off
for sex. Other occasions, with a slice
of peach in my
mouth, I was programmed to ask, "Would you like a
California peach?" and then I'd give
it to him, in the
bedroom.
Henry told Bob the
strategies and they often worked together to create
a script for me to deliver,
especially if jokes
were needed. If it was intricate or complicated,
then Henry did the uploading.
Sometimes though,
for Bob's parties, Bob would load me up with
statements for different people before
the party began. He
had a list of party guests and he often had his
writers come up with something clever
and funny along the
subject lines Bob chose. I remember hearing him
call different writers to chew them
out if they were
late delivering the scripts or if he was unhappy with
the material they came up with.
The Council used
Bob and Henry together and was able to achieve
enormous strides because
people oftentimes
didn't realize they were connected, or that Bob and
Henry were strategizing or
manipulating them,
let alone that they were connected to the Council.
Bob's Political
Connections
Bob was involved in
local, state, national and international politics
and had a network of "cronies"
all around the
world. He would 'scratch their backs' for the same in
return. Since he wielded so much
political power,
because of his wealth and connections, people listened
to him and often did what he
asked. Most people
were bought. He had a network of people
(politicians, judges, police, etc.) in his back
pocket and in this
way he remained protected and often operated above
the law. He seemed to know
everyone everywhere
we went and people seemed anxious to get near him.
He had the money to buy
anything he liked,
including programmed sex slaves. Once he told me,
"everyone has his or her price,"
and he usually
found it. It was not always money that people were
after; sometimes it was connections,
fame or sex.
By the time I was
18, I was in operation heavily with Bob Hope,
California Governor Ronald
Reagan, President
Richard Nixon, and Henry Kissinger. They all knew I
had what they called "expanded
faculties." I was
often used as an intermediary between Sacramento and
the White House - keeping
information flowing
per instruction from the Council. They were the top
controllers. So, for example,
during the time
Reagan was Governor of California, I was flown to
Reagan's ranch to have sex with him
and deliver him
messages. Then I was flown to the White House to have
sex with Nixon and deliver
messages from the
Council. The Council was overseeing all this. They
debriefed me after each
assignment and
reprogrammed me in light of the information I reported.
I don't know if Reagan or
Nixon really ever
knew to whom I was really reporting ...whose
interests I was really addressing. The
Council always made
it look like I was attending to Reagan or Nixon's
sexual interests and then subtly
slipped in messages
or suggestions from the Council. My programming
're-minded' me, "Mine is not to
question why, mine
is but to do or die".
I was only 18, 19,
20, 21, 22 years old when I was performing many of
these earlier sex/espionage
missions. It was
the perfect cover. Who would have suspected me, a very
average, innocent looking, silly,
young blonde to
have been involved in U.S. Government and Shadow
Government activities?
142
Ronald Reagan and
Bob Hope were connected through the entertainment
field and were doubly
connected through
their political and military friends when Reagan was
Governor of California and later
on when he became
President of the United States. Bob was also friends
with high-powered men like
Walter Annenberg,
who had a sweeping estate in Palm Springs, or more
specifically Rancho Mirage.
When Bob took me
there for meetings or parties I was told, "This is a
mirage, this just a mirage." Walter
Annenberg was at
one time an Ambassador to Britain and was also
connected to the Reagan's and the
British Royal
Family.
Bob was politically
connected and knew how to lure people in and insure
they would work for
him. He invited
them to his parties and dangled various kinds of
illegal or immoral perversions in their
faces. Once their
perversions were uncovered, he could blackmail or
control them. That is how Bob
worked. Bob was
very good at this. I watched him do it to people over
and over. He lured them in,
detected their
weaknesses, then used that knowledge in his favor, for
his connections, and ultimately for
his personal gain.
He was like a black
widow spider, luring people into his web and then
moving in for the kill.
Except instead of
killing his prey he simply put them to good use in
his life. He used them "in the scheme
of things," he
would say, "to make life a little easier." Once lured
into Bob's snare, there was no getting
out without dire
consequence.
Bob especially
liked to do this to politicians because as he would
explain to me after a party, he
liked "to have a
few key politicians in his back pocket." Bob
demonstrated my "abilities" to people he
wanted to gift me
to. He gave me as a sexual gift to a lot of people he
wanted to "have in his back pocket."
Later, he talked
about how incredibly stupid these people were, to take
the drugs or alcohol and then
make a public
spectacle of themselves.
J. Edgar Hoover
J. Edgar Hoover was
at Bob's parties. One night he ended up dressed in
a blue sequined dress.
Henry and Bob had
put together a list of other politicians who were
like J. Edgar so they would feel
comfortable
together. J. Edgar Hoover, "Jerry" to his friends, must
have thought Bob was safe and that
he was out of his
political arena so he could "let his hair down." But
it was really a clever set up between
Bob and Henry, as
they set a trap for Hoover. At the party onset, I was
brought in to dance naked and get
them going. They
all dressed up in "costumes" left out for their "party
enjoyment." I presented it that
way so they
wouldn't feel uncomfortable or inhibited. Then they were
given booze, cocaine, anything
they wanted. There
were party poppers and dishes full of different
recreational drugs with little tags
attached explaining
the type of ride they would go on if they took a
certain pill or powder - everything
short of
injectables was offered. This group of men got really high and
silly and changed into the
costumes. Once they
were high, I worked them for information as
pre-directed by Henry Kissinger. J.
Edgar must not have
known that Bob Hope was connected to Kissinger. So,
the information gathered
that evening - not
only Hoover and his friends' direct answers to
questions, but their attitudes, and
sexual preferences,
etc. - were all recorded directly into my mind
files.
From then on the
Council had "Hoover by the balls or was it the pussy?"
my controllers joked.
From then on the
FBI was under Council control and they even got Hoover
to put blocks and different
rules, regulations,
and codes directly into the FBI operations. That
began to set up a controlling
mechanism for the
future so that when the next FBI director took
office, things inside the Bureau would
be in place so the
Council could continue to manipulate them toward
their Ultimate year 2000 goal.
Alan Cranston
143
Senator Alan
Cranston was Bob's right-hand political man in California.
He also attended
Bob's parties. Alan
carried out things Bob wanted done in the
government sector. Bob's business
dealings ran deep
into world governments. He used government agencies
as a tool for his benefit and he
"bought" people
already working in the government so that he could
control them and "get things in
order," he would
say. Which meant bend or change laws to his benefit.
Cranston was the center of the
political wheel,
the inside corrupt wheel, in California. If anyone
wanted anything done, all they had to
do was contact Bob
and he would go through his political cronies to get
it done-no matter what it was.
Senator Cranston
was tied into Bob Hope and from what I saw, Bob was
tied to the outskirts of
the Council, but
Cranston was not. Politicians were never allowed to be
that close or to be directly
affiliated with the
Council, but were given information, as they needed
it from unidentified sources. That
is what I was, an
unidentified source.
Cranston was one of
Bob's favorite connections. Cranston liked
"spankies" over his lap. He would
make me lie over
his lap and he would spank me, "to turn me on," he
would say. The more turned on he
got the more brutal
he became. He was into beatings, sometimes with a
belt, and tying me down. He was
very aggressive,
very scary and unpredictable. Alan Cranston was a bony
old, evil man.
Cranston was not
allowed to leave marks on me. Henry Kissinger saw to
that. Henry kept tabs on
me during the Nixon
and Reagan administrations because he had his
interest in using the information
that he had
carefully instilled in my mind files and did not want me
damaged.
Cranston and Bob
seemed to be close friends. Bob and others ran a lot
of California politics from
Palm Springs and
made sure they had the people they needed in their
"back pockets" in order to "enact
change," which
meant bending things for their own financial gain. It
usually always boiled down to
money, but
occasionally Bob did things out of vindication for certain
people. He always made people
"sorry" if they
were not nice to him. He usually got his way ...his
power went high.
One night on the
Queen Mary, in the mid-1970's Cranston tied me tightly
to a headboard and then
got so drunk or
drugged up that he could not untie me. So he had sex
with me standing up, with me still
tied and then he
passed out on the bed. I had to stay tied up like that
until the wee hours of the morning
when Bob came and
found me. My hands and feet were purple/blue from the
lack of circulation and I
was exhausted but
quickly "snapped out of it," when Bob told me to. I
switched to being happy, refreshed
and bubbly, while
Bob attempted to get Cranston sobered up.
Sometimes at
parties, Cranston stayed the next day to pull himself
together around Bob's pool. If
Dolores was there,
Bob would tell her I was hired as the maid for the
day, but when I would sit on his lap,
Dolores would just
roll her eyes and walk away disgusted. Theirs was
not a marriage made in heaven.
The Chief of Police
is Compromised
There was a small
Italian restaurant located on Laurel Canyon Boulevard
in Los Angeles, called
Cafe Galleria. My
brother Rick introduced Craig and I to the unique
little restaurant in the early 70's. I
remember one
evening, as we pulled away from the restaurant after we'd
had dinner, Craig looked back
in a quiet,
dissociated manner and said, "Bad things happen in the back
room there." When I questioned
him further, he
didn't answer, so I immediately tucked it away in the
back of my mind and went on to
another subject.
But he was absolutely right and years later I had the
memory which pieced together the
answers to the
questions I would have liked to have asked him back
then. With the detailed flashback of
the event, I had a
fuller picture of what really took place that night.
I don't know who
specifically was behind the blackmailed event, but I
remembered being taken
into the back area
of the restaurant into a smoke-filled room full of
men. I was told to strip and dance,
144
and ended up
sitting on Police Chief Darryl Gate's lap in the nude.
Cameras flashed pictures of me on
his lap after which
I was ushered out with my clothes to meet my
husband. With only fragments of this
memory, I am left
with an incomplete picture of what my controllers'
actual agenda was. You can come
to your own
conclusions.
Pete Wilson
California Senator,
and then Governor, Pete Wilson was also tied to Bob
Hope. Bob manipulated
Pete through Pete's
desire for fame and recognition and through his
desire for political gain and for sex.
Bob originally
invited Pete Wilson to his parties and used me to lure
him into his web so he could gain
further control
over politics in California, or at least protect some
of his interests. As Pete discovered,
Bob was a direct
link to insuring success politically because he had
connections to so many people and
was connected with
the Council and the U.S. Defense Department.
In the beginning I
was used with then-California Senator Pete Wilson on
Catalina Island. Pete
Wilson was in line
to be used by the Council in a big way. Back then
they felt he was one of the most
promising
candidates they had for the U.S. Presidency. The last
information I had overheard in
conversation
concerning this was that they were not sure he would be
ready by the election in 1996, but
they had him in a
holding pattern for later use when the time was
right. As Pete went along with what the
Council wanted,
doors were to immediately open for him.
I was programmed to
deliver "news" to Pete from the "higher ups," the
Council. Over time, he
became conditioned
to associating me with. news about his future
success. But, who from the outside
would have ever
suspected that 1, initially a young woman and later, a
seemingly ordinary housewife and
mother, would be
carrying secret information to him from this very
elite group that secretly rules the
world from the
shadows? At that time, the Council sent a message to
Pete through me, asking him if he
"wanted to step
upstairs?"
Pete's answer was,
"Yes!" Lots of the information between Pete and the
Council was filtered
through me. That
way, no one knew of his connection, just like they
didn't know of Nixon's or Reagan's
direction by the
Council.
I delivered
messages to Pete from the Council on many occasions. He
seemed fully conscious of
their connection to
him and their support of him, although I don't know
if he was aware of their actual
identities. At that
time my instructions from the Council were given to
me by phone or over closed circuit
television, where
their voices and bodies were scrambled. No one was
allowed to know who they were.
Pete either didn't
know or didn't care how they were able to accomplish
what they did in regard to world
affairs. Or, maybe
he also was programmed and operated with me from a
programmed alter state.
One night, while
'vacationing' with my family on Catalina Island, men
in suits came and took me
from them in order
to ready me for use with Wilson. It was the same
routine as usual trauma, isolation,
food and sleep
deprivation that occurred before I was used to insure I
would later be amnesiac of the
entire event.
After the traumatic
preparation took place, I was escorted by men in
suits past the yachtsmen's
club out to a
dinghy and was taken to Pete on a plush yacht moored in
the Avalon Harbor. My controllers
dressed me for the
occasion in all white - white blouse, slacks, gold
belt and shoes. It was late at night
when I was placed
on board with Pete. After we were left alone, he
wanted to slip over the side of the
boat naked and swim
in the dark with me. I obeyed.
Pete was in good
shape physically and had a little more than average
share of penile endowment.
After our swim, we
got into bed and had sex. He pinched my buttocks and
told me what a "great one" I
had. Sometimes he
got very aggressive and it traumatized me. On this
occasion he nibbled me all over
145
my body, from head
to toe-we were both laughing hysterically, I because
I was programmed to be
"congenial." He
liked to have sex in many different positions and was
an active participant, unlike
Ronald Reagan. He
seemed to enjoy showing me how physically strong he
was. When I first met him, he
would have two of
us (two women) at the same time, but later on just
me, as he said I responded better
to him just "one on
one." He had massage oils that we used sometimes
during sex also. He loved oral sex
and liked for me to
bring him just to the edge of orgasm and then back
off so he could last longer. I was
programmed to have
a lot of "passion" with Pete Wilson.
It was normal after
sex for us to talk. Usually this was when I
delivered the messages I was
carrying to him
from the Council. We talked a lot in bed as I delivered
information to help him climb the
political ladder.
This particular evening on the yacht, I stayed the
night on board with him. He often had
very bad breath
upon awakening.
The next morning, I
was taken off the yacht and reunited with my family
at our spot on the beach,
programmed to think
I had never been gone, never missed any time with
them. As usual, they didn't
notice my absence
or my return.
Pete Wilson knew
how to utilize me in the same ways Henry Kissinger did
by accessing my mind
files. I was used
in Sacramento, the State Capital, with him in this
way, even before he was Governor of
California. But
Pete often had trouble remembering the mind file names
and would say, "Now what was
that file name
again?" He'd snap his fingers and go to his desk to get
the listing of files located in the
"Peter Wilson
Library." When this personalized filing system was gifted
to him through me, Henry said
to tell him, "Pete,
you had a whole library donated and built just for
you." It was complete with every
volume, every book
housed just precisely where he could gain access to
it inside my mind files, all by a
simple command.
For Pete I was a
total sexual robot as well as a computer robot. But I
was never set up to serve
both functions at
the same time. I was flown to meet him in different
locations, as far back as the early
1980's and met him
in Sacramento when he was there on business. Pete
had trouble getting my mind
files open to
access information because he couldn't wait two hours in
between for sex! I overheard
Henry ask him,
"Well, did you wait the two hours in between usages?"
But Pete lied and
Henry knew he lied when later he accessed me and
asked, "What time did Peter
enter the Wilson
Library?" And I would tell him the exact time and he
would catch Pete in a lie every
time. Pete didn't
seem to know or understand the level of
sophistication that allowed me to report exactly
when Pete initiated
sex or mind file use.
The Council
operated in these very cunning and manipulative ways with
Pete Wilson and others.
Slowly they
introduced people, knowing that over time, trust built and
later when an important event or
issue needed to be
dealt with, the connections had been made, a bond
was formed and it was easy for
them to use people.
They had plans for
Wilson to be Governor of California long before he
was elected--so far ahead,
in fact, that they
started putting me with him for the Council to begin
"grooming" him for the job of
Governor.
Since I had also
been used with other California Governors, my
programmed years of experience
in regard to the
ways the Council worked with politicians was helpful
to Pete in his early days. The
programmed
information I carried included familiarity with people and
agencies, and could help him get
acquainted and
adjusted.
I was programmed to
work with Pete Wilson in regard to the new
educational plan for children,
that was first
implemented in California. That is a whole separate, but
very important subject, which I
146
will address in a
later chapter. I don't know if Pete was aware of
where my information was coming
from but he seemed
to enjoy large amounts of sex with me in between
"business engagements." Pete
Wilson also had sex
with my daughter at one of Bob's parties when she
was older.
Obviously, my
personal experience with Bob Hope is contrary to the
"All-American good citizen"
image that he and
the media have managed to fool the majority of the
American people with all these
years. In truth and
sorrow, all I have left to say to him is, "Bob,
thanks for the memories." For now
armed with the
truth of what has happened, I can begin to work to stop
this once secret, human atrocity
called 'mind
control.'
"They struck me,"
you will say, "but I was not hurt; they beat me, but
I did not feel it. When shall I
awake?" Be not
envious of evil men, nor desire to be with them; for
their minds devise violence, and their
lips talk of
mischief.
“By wisdom a house
is built, and by understanding it is
established; by knowledge the rooms are filled up
with all precious
and pleasant riches. A wise man is mightier than a
strong man, and a man of knowledge
than he who has
strength. He who plans to do evil will be called a
mischief-maker. The devising of folly is
sin, and the
scoffer is an abomination to men." -- Proverbs 23-24
147
Brice Taylor -
Thanks for the Memories
Chapter Fourteen:
Parties at the Rockefellers
...Or, what do the
Rockefellers, Kissinger, Alan Greenspan and the
Federal Reserve
all have in common?
...Me as a mind file to organize their plan.
Parties were given
in New York at the Rockefeller mansion around
Christmas time each year. I
was flown to New
York by commercial airline and was met at the airport
and limoed to their home. I was
taken by a woman to
get my hair and nails done, then brought back and
dressed to be used to entertain
top people from all
over the world, usually ending in a sexual
encounter with individuals they were
targeting. At the
parties, I was dressed formally in expensive evening
gowns and was often provided a
diamond broach or
huge diamond necklace to wear for the evening.
There was a whole
room, a vault, that had a bank of thin but wide
drawers that housed necklaces,
broaches, tiaras,
all mounted on special stands shaped to fit them.
There were tiered drawers for
bracelets, diamond
watches and rings. I was taken into the vault at
times in order for someone to select
jewelry that was
appropriate for my outfit. Usually it was a blonde,
blue-eyed, soft-spoken woman who
wore her hair up.
She was pretty and knew just how to dress me. If I
was to target an important official,
foreign leader, or
king, they put an especially alluring piece on me.
Then she'd escort me out of the
vaulted room down a
hall and into the house. It was like a secret
hallway that led to "the collection."
One evening she
dressed me in a long red strapless formal. It was
form-fitting and the bodice was
low cut. I had to
wear a push up bra to look bustier but she said she
loved my small waist. She fastened a
diamond necklace
around my neck and said she liked how it dipped down
to accent the bodice of my
dress. My hair had
been done up and she had me wear large diamond drop
earrings displaying lots of
diamonds that
dangled together.
After I was
finished being dressed with accessories, the lady took me
out into one of the main
rooms - this one
was forest green and Prince Philip was there. She
reminded me beforehand to curtsy
and bow deeply to
him and to stay down and bow my head for awhile -
which I did, before this man
dressed in a black
tux, complete with cummerbund and shiny black shoes.
Rocky came into the room
and put his cigar
down in an ashtray, bowed to Philip and said, "I
wanted you two to have some time to
get acquainted
before the other guests arrived." Then he went on to
explain to Prince Philip, "She has
been dedicated
solely to you for the evening. Your wants are her
desires."
Philip smiled.
Rocky shook
Philip's hand with both hands and explained, "It's an honor
to have you here this
evening and to
express our sincerity, this young lady has been
dedicated to you for your Highnesses
pleasure for the
night."
"Thank you," Philip
replied. "You're most kind."
They continued
speaking in formalities. That's how everyone spoke
around Philip. Rocky handed
him a drink that
the butler/bartender had made and excusing himself,
said, "I'll leave you two alone for
awhile and I'll be
back to check on you to see if there's anything you
want or need." As he walked out of
the room, the
butler who was on his heels closed the doors. I was just
a teenager, but my inner twin
sister, Sharon, was
the personality that was groomed for these
assignments with the elite.
Philip and I sat on
the couch and I smiled at him and was shy, as
programmed. He reached out
and took my hand
and sipped his drink. He was nervous like he wasn't
sure how to act or just what to say
to me. But he
began, "You're very young and very beautiful."
"Thank you, your
Highness," I replied shyly.
Prince Philip
reached out and put his arm around me and I leaned up and
kissed him. He was
younger and more
squarely handsome in a homely kind of way than the old
men I was used to. "This is
148
just the beginning
of a very wonderful evening," I said as I kissed him
on the cheek. I knelt down in
front of him,
placing my carefully manicured hands on his knees and
looked into his eyes as I started
inching my hands
near his crotch.
Quickly he said,
"I'd like to enjoy looking at you this evening at the
party, knowing you will be my
dessert." I smiled
up at him and nodded yes, then got up and sat back
down by his side.
He stood and
ushered me out to the other room without waiting for Rocky
to come back to get us.
I thought, "He
didn't follow the rules," but it didn't seem to matter.
The beautifully
dressed people at the party bowed to him all night,
even the men. I sat off on a
couch in a corner
alone for some time and he just kept looking over at
me and smiling. Since I was under
mind control I
couldn't think to accurately identify the Royal family
structure and mistakenly thought to
myself, "I wonder
where the princess is, or if there is one?" In
addition, I couldn't think to question or to
know what I was
actually involved in. This wasn't a large party and I
didn't know or recognize the others.
Philip spoke very
formally but didn't act how I thought a prince or a
king was supposed to act. I
had no way of
understanding his position in the Royal family, but
assumed that since everyone was
bowing to him, he
must be a king. He just kept looking at me like he
was reminding himself of what was
to come. Later,
people began to leave, and they all took forever saying
goodbye. Then some men in suits
took us by limo to
a hotel there in New York - a penthouse suite - and
escorted us up to the room. I didn't
know who the men
were, if they were guards or his own security, but
they acted like the Secret Service
agents did. I had
been given a white, full-length coat to wear. I felt
like 'a princess' since I usually wasn't
dressed quite that
formally.
Once inside the
room, he started to undress out of his formal clothes.
"Please your Highness," I
offered, "allow
me." He sat on the bed while I took off my coat and
kneeled down to take off his shoes,
socks (with the
elastic straps), and then I undid his cummerbund and
unbuttoned his shirt very slowly
and seductively
while I kissed him gently all over his face. I rubbed
his neck and shoulders for awhile and
then took off his
pants. He wore boxer shorts, the baggy kind.
Once he was
undressed, he slowly took off my clothes, and then pulled
back the sheets and laid
me in the bed and
began kissing me. He was passionate and didn't hurt
me. I was sent to sexually service
him at other times.
As usual, I was
always kept in extreme isolation before and after I was
taken to these parties and
was deprived of
food and water most of the time until I was delivered
back to the airplane. I was told
things to say to
key people during the parties and continued delivering
their important messages after
the party, when I
had sex with an individual they had pre-designated.
When my job was finished, I was
debriefed and put
into isolation again before being flown back to my
home in California.
Nelson Rockefeller
continually accessed me by closed circuit television
in California, especially
before an upcoming
event. I was programmed to drive to a local Holiday
Inn, go to the front desk for a
key, and then
directly to room 222. It was there by closed circuit
television that I was instructed what to
do and what to say
to certain individuals that I was soon to be
connected to in Los Angeles, such as
Barbra Streisand
and other celebrities or individuals I would be seeing
later at his parties.
One year Gerald and
Betty Ford were there and another year Ronald and
Nancy Reagan. There
were always lots of
celebrities, royalty from England, and leaders from
countries all over the world.
Henry Kissinger
took me to a Rockefeller party one year and kept coming
back to me during the
evening with
instructions about whom to approach and what to say to
them. He instructed me to
approach Jackie
Kennedy Onassis. He told me to tell her how much I
respected her and the late
president, and how
I admired the way she picked up and went on after
his assassination. Jackie smiled
and displayed shy
mannerisms when I first approached her. She said she
was very happily remarried and
149
her life was
running as smoothly as could be expected. Later she told
me she wished she could spend
more time with Ari
but that she understood he had lots of business
dealings all over the world and was a
busy man. Aristotle
Onassis was not among the guests at the party.
Another man escorted Jackie. He was
very tall, dark and
handsome. Noticing I was talking with her, this man
returned by her side and
escorted her to
another room. He seemed to be very protective of her.
Henry told me things to tell lots of
people so I would
be familiar to them and more trusted if they ever
needed to send me in on them at a
later date.
One of the rooms in
the Rockefeller house was decorated in deep forest
green with a rich green
plaid that went
half way up the wall. It was a beautiful house, full of
beautiful wood and glass. It was
decorated, of
course, to the hilt. The front doors were massive wood
and glass, and the entire estate was
monitored by remote
access televisions so someone inside the house
could always see what was going on
inside and outside
on the grounds.
Happy Rockefeller
wasn't called Happy for nothing. She drank a lot at
their parties and later at the
end of the evening
they usually had to take her away because she was
sloppy drunk. Henry got mad at
Nelson about it but
Nelson stuck up for her. Henry told Rocky that it
looked very unprofessional and
undignified, and
that she should be kept away from the public eye, but
Rocky wanted her there anyway.
Famous people who
attended the Rockefeller parties had their identities
protected. They arrived
in limousines with
tinted windows and in this way were protected from
public exposure. The highly
sophisticated alarm
and monitoring systems that constantly scanned the
grounds provided the security
necessary for the
VIP's who visited. No one was ever to disclose who
attended the parties. On the surface
the parties looked
like mere social gatherings of friends, but they
were much more, as secret and
sensitive
information was passed around a select group.
A small group of
men always met in a back room after the party to
discuss world strategies and
business. It was
not unusual for guests to spend the night, but only a
select few were invited to the
meeting.
At these private
meetings, I watched the men who literally ran the
world. Men who decided when
it was profitable
and/or strategically important and timely to start a
war. They even had it planned who
would begin the
fighting and where. It always added up to big money,
power, and control. At times, I was
allowed into the
room because they were aware that I was under mind
control and my services were
utilized in
whatever way they needed to use me.
People in America
think they elect their Presidents, but from what I
witnessed, they do not as the
process of putting
them into office is a highly controlled and corrupt
one. The media is so controlled that
the American people
never get the full and accurate story. The
Presidents are selected long before they
are 'voted' into
office. It is no accident that Ronald Reagan and Pete
Wilson won the governorship of
California. It was
rigged through financial, business, and political
connections from this controlling
group, headed by
the Council, right down into various business and
political factions, and then on down
into the public
arena.
They own the press.
They own key television stations and famous
anchormen. They have key
people who own the
newspaper companies. They buy magazine companies and
own many large
corporations that
allow them to have leading edge media exposure, thus
allowing them to control the
information people
see on the television news, read in newspapers and
magazines, or hear on the radio.
They are funded by
the richest men and corporations in the world who
get what they want, when they
want it, by
whatever means it takes to do so. They operate above the
law, above the federal government.
I witnessed and
recorded in my photographic memory many of these
encounters as I was bounced
around the globe in
the company of varied and influential "people in
the know."
150
Rockefeller
Connections
Nelson Rockefeller
was connected to Bob Hope and many people in
positions of power Nixon,
Ford, Reagan, and
Bush - even before these men were Presidents.
At the Rockefeller
mansion, there was a direct phone line to the White
House that no one was
supposed to know
about. It was kept in a side closet behind a mirrored
liquor cabinet. Nelson didn't even
have to dial; he
just picked it up and began talking. I couldn't
understand what he was saying, but he
often spoke about
the Chase Manhattan Bank. There was a clear plastic
box on the mouthpiece of this
phone. I don't know
the purpose for this device.
When I was at the
mansion, Nelson called Reagan at times. He never told
Reagan I was there. My
instructions were
to keep quiet.
John D. Rockefeller
operated independently from the rest of the
Rockefellers. There was
animosity between
John D. and the rest. They didn't like or trust him,
so they kept secret their
operations from
him. They also didn't trust his political connections.
There was a very
ornate, very 'old wealth' hotel in New York where I
was set up to meet different
people. This time
they sent me in to "visit" John D. Rockefeller. The
Council wanted to see if they could
"win him over," so
they could use him. I was preprogrammed in room 222
at the Holiday Inn in
California and then
sent to target him at that New York hotel. They
dressed me in a small short black
dress with black
nylons, black heels and I carried a small black purse.
I knocked at his door and he
answered. He was
about 5' 11" and on the stocky side with greying hair,
nice face and skin. He had on a
grey suit and white
shirt and his tie was undone. He looked like he had
been resting.
He asked me why I
was there, and in a very upset voice, I screamed,
"Someone's been shot!"
He said, "What!?" I
told him again. Then he pulled me into the room and
questioned me more. I
said everything
just like I was programmed to, but he didn't fall for
any of it. He said, "I don't know who
sent you but I'm
not interested," and he showed me the door.
When I arrived back
downstairs my contact said, "You're back so soon?"
We left quickly through
the large brass
revolving door out into the cold, to an awaiting
limousine.
Supreme Court
Justices
Nelson Rockefeller
was also the connection to some Supreme Court
Justices who were old friends
of his. They called
him, "Old Rocky." I was sent in on different
Supreme Court Justices and I was
instructed to make
sure neither judge talked about or knew that I was
being intimate with the other. The
Council knew just
the perfect phrases to have me deliver in these
situations that would shut the door to
these judges ever
mentioning our private, intimate experience to
anyone, especially their colleagues. All
these judges knew
each other well. It was like an inside men's club and
so the Council would tell me
something no one
would have known about judge so-and-so, and I would
tell the judge I was with about
it and that his
colleague, judge so-and-so, was extremely sensitive
about this subject. This would cause
him to not want to
have anything to do with the other judge and so it
would be in that judge's favor to not
ever mention our
little affair. For example, they had me say, "I
overheard judge so-and-so talking at a
party and he was
saying how distasteful he found it when men his age
were dabbling with younger
women. So to
protect your relationship with him, it would probably be
better for you if you never
mentioned this
evening with us together. Now I can understand perfectly
well, how a man like yourself
would desire and
benefit from an evening with a young woman like
myself. To be perfectly frank, it's very
normal and healthy,
but certain other old 'stick in the mud' judges
just don't see things the same way. I'm
sure you
understand." And if the judge was convinced, then I had him
locked into the secret and if not I
151
would report back
and my controllers would give me another tactic to
slip in later, after this one had
passed. I was
trained to read their body and facial language early on.
I was taught not to trust their words
as much as their
body language.
There were two very
old Superior Court judges who I was sent in to
seduce and probe for
information. These
very old men actually believed all the lines I told
them about how attractive I found
older men, how wise
I knew they were and how I really appreciated
maturity and experience over the
younger men of the
day. And I got them tipsy and then asked them
questions very innocently, like I was
just curious about
a certain subject. They usually answered me in
strictest confidences to help me
understand how
things worked. Sometimes their egos would get so
inflated from all the flattering I
delivered, that
they would be flustered and say more than they probably
normally should or would have.
Even under mind
control, it really made me lose my respect for old men
- especially Supreme Court
Justices, because
they had no morals and totally believed and ate up
all the lies. The Council sent me into
many different
areas within the government to "feel things out." I knew
that meant to have sex and ask
the questions I was
directed to ask. They didn't say, "feel things
out," if I was only to ask questions or
give information.
Alan Greenspan and
The Federal Reserve
I was assigned to
be with Alan Greenspan. He is currently Chairman of
the Federal Reserve Board
and controls the
nation's economy by intentionally manipulating the
Federal Reserve Banks and the
Stock Exchange.
Through this manipulation Alan is able to skim off
monies for use within the shadow
government. It is
similar to money laundering only this is done at the
highest levels, channeling huge
amounts of monies
into, among other things, classified, hidden
government projects.
This agenda is tied
into Henry Kissinger and Bob Hope. And is largely
directed by the
Rockefellers. David
in particular was connected to the banking system
and financial aspects of the New
World Order. George
Bush was also connected up very high in this plan.
The Stock Exchange
was often nothing but a charade, publicly displaying
one facade while
privately carrying
on a very separate, private agenda. This agenda is
aimed at funding many branches of
what is to be the
new inner structure and workings of the New World
Order--the One World
Government. The
financial infrastructure was put in place and further
honed beginning in the 60's and
by now it is
well-greased and operating at full capacity with the
target takeover by the year 2000. By the
year 2000 all
parties are to be in place, all subsidiaries are to be up
and running optimally with direct
funding coming from
the large New World Order funded and controlled
corporations of which there are
many and which are
multi-layered. There is a whole network of men who
manipulate a lot of
international
business around the world, including the World Banking
System. Chase Manhattan Bank
was just the tip of
a whole network of banks all over the world that
were set with a framework to control
the world economy
and hide illegal funds. These illegal funds are never
detected if they are distributed
into the internal
workings of this banking system. In the early years,
I was programmed to make large
deposits into banks
all over the world. Many mind-controlled slaves
were doing that work.
There are
programmed people involved in global implementation all the
way to the top in order to
insure that by this
time, through this generation, their plan will not
fail. Mind control was and still is
their failsafe
mechanism intended to alleviate any human weakness or
human interference. If the world's
computer systems
were to shut down, their systems, carefully created
within the mind file systems of
mind control
victims, would continue to operate. Cryptic information
passes to people in the know with
the "eyes to see
and the ears to hear," as I overheard them during
Stock Exchange dealings cryptically
refer to those
involved with New World Order agenda. Those programmed
are able to glean plans and
agendas as well as
command instruction while watching the stock trades
on television or by their actual
physical presence
while there.
152
When I was sixteen,
my future mother-in-law, Sara Ford, got me a job at
a stock brokerage firm in
Pasadena, called
Independent Securities. Most people my age wouldn't
have even been hired but I was
"lucky" and unlike
other new employees, didn't have to start in the
mailroom. Instead I started work in
the securities
exchange room. There were cocktail parties attended by
men and women in expensive
clothes. There were
more men than women and there were times when Mr.
Hecht, Sara's boss and
president of the
company, briefed me on a certain "fellow" who I was to
be especially nice to and was to
"cater to," in an
attempt to sway him to do business with Independent
Securities. I was told to act naive,
innocent and sweet
because some of the "older gentlemen" preferred it
that way. So that's what I did. I
served drinks at
the parties in order to have a substantial reason to
interact with these wealthy
gentlemen
(potential investors).
Parts of me were
filled with lots of information on stocks, bonds,
annuities, the Federal Reserve
and these parts
knew exactly how the Federal Reserve manipulated
business, corporations, and large
investments for
their own gain. Funds were amassed through the Federal
Reserve for use in anything but
what the funds were
publicly portrayed as being used in. By the way,
nobody audits the Fed, not even the
IRS.
I was heavily used
for both mind files and sex, but my mind file use
during my teens and on into
adulthood, always
took priority as the Council, Henry, and others sent
messages and information back
and forth to each
other without the risk of being publicly linked. For
example, Henry would say when an
international
crisis would/could be created and what countries were to
be involved. Then those players
involved would get
their monies or exchanges, step up to be in the
right position to gain monetarily and
then step out.
There were lots of corporate men who backed these
endeavors with money from their
corporations. They
fronted the money in exchange for favors from the
Federal Reserve or politicians.
Their needs were
always researched by the Council to determine (before
they went to the negotiating
table) what would
entice them most. The corporate owners were often
targeted from many different
positions like
sending in other successful players who had profited
considerably in the past, in order to
further influence
them to participate. Often at the final time I was
sent in (if the corporate head was open
to sex with a young
woman), I was preprogrammed with line after line
that was designed to hit them
deep to get them to
"our side" or to cooperate with the business
venture.
Henry and Alan
Greenspan worked hand-in-hand sending endless messages
through me to
coordinate many of
these so-called "business ventures." They uploaded
me with information in New
York when I was
there, usually for other Kissinger or Rockefeller
business, or I was instructed via closed
circuit television
from California. I believe this was around 1967-68.
1 wheeled patients and old people to
a closed circuit
viewing of a church service on Sundays, at the
Hollywood Presbyterian Hospital, where I
went with my Sunday
school teen class - the same church where there
were rituals occasionally. Anyway,
my class wheeled
people from their rooms to watch a church service, via
closed circuit television in the
hospital. When the
service was over, my friends went to take these
patients for a snack and back to their
rooms. I sat alone,
my attention glued to the front of the close
circuit television that sat on top of a metal
stand on wheels. I
knew from instructions to flip through the channels
to 22, then pulled up the antenna
and watched and
listened carefully to instructions given. There were
times when the man on the screen
talked while he
pointed with a pointer to figures on a chalkboard that
I was to retain. Percentages,
actuaries and
places to go, people to meet, and things to say. I
photographed with my mind the names,
figures, etc., and
listened carefully for dialogue I was to repeat to
certain individuals like Reagan or
Hope, and later
Nixon or corporate heads. When it was over, it just cut
off and the television went all
fuzzy again but I
was always instructed to change it back to a normal
numbered station - preferably the
one that had been
on, so no one would detect. Church activities were
used often as a front to get me to
places where I was
supposed to acquire further information for upcoming
events. Then the occasional
rituals or traumas
at church were performed to keep all this
information hidden. Reagan was governor
153
during this time
and I was given information over the closed circuit
television to deliver to him. Later
on, I delivered the
information to him at places like the Motion
Picture Hospital, where my mom
worked.
The Rockefellers,
especially Rocky, used me often during this time, but
not without going to
Henry first. Henry
was still always in charge of me, but let
Rockefeller use me to further his own
interests. Henry
would ask for "updates" on all of these other people's
uses of me so he knew what was
going on in lots of
different circles at once. And, he would use any
confidential information he found to
further his own
interests in business or government dealings. He found
out the 'dirt' on others by
debriefing me from
my use with the Rockefellers or different corporate
heads, then he or Bob would take
advantage of the
information to further their interests. He already had
free access to the Federal Reserve
information through
Alan Greenspan and others, but he could tap into
mind file data anytime he wanted
or needed. After
high school I took bookkeeping classes at the local
junior college, alongside my
psychology major.
At the base of some
of my banking mind files was my bookkeeping
coursework at Pierce College to
which Henry then
attached a framework for his use adding lots of data
from classified documents,
videos, etc. It was
a very sophisticated system that worked on the
inside of my mind while I was doing
another job and
then the completed reports were ready when Henry needed
them. Henry sometimes
gave those internal
systems a day or week to come up with the final
data. He often said this was the
"brain of the
future," making the need for computers obsolete. Henry
said that, in the future, man would
explore "inner
space."
The Council was the
glue that held the major corporations together at
the very top, the large
international
corporations. The Council was above Henry Kissinger,
their international political
mastermind and Alan
Greenspan who used the Fed to gain the money to
fund and further their plan - to
cement and make
uniform the world economy for more efficient
organization and ease of controlling.
Alan Greenspan had
a lot of big business backing, thus furthering their
banking deals. They
laundered huge sums
of money through subsidiary treasury banks so the
action would be taking place off
to the side in
unnamed, unmonitored banks. That way the main Federal
Reserve Banks, were kept freer
to operate without
detection. The plan covered the overall banking
system so nothing could be traced. So
if there were large
sums of money that needed to be washed, they were
put through the smaller,
subsidiary banks
that weren't being monitored, so no one would know.
Sometimes these subsidiary
banks ended up
actually handling much larger sums of money and
transactions than the larger Federal
Reserve Bank in the
same geographic area in order to hide the money
laundering schemes. The way the
system is set up,
all monies from an area are supposed to funnel
through the Federal Reserve Bank in
that area in order
to monitor many different things, so they can keep
control of the money in specific
geographic areas.
With the large, washed funds filtering through the
subsidiary banks, the laundering
system did well and
was never detected through the main Fed, which is
highly monitored by Congress.
Otherwise the
Reserve would come up out of balance every step of the
way, since so much money was
laundered in
certain areas and there was no way to begin to explain the
large percentage of imbalance
there would have
been between even neighboring cities' or state's
holdings.
The Federal Reserve
had areas like political districts. In some areas,
it was essential to have the
subsidiary banks
'in place' in order to funnel the funds from covert
operations. San Diego was one. Los
Angeles was another
and Hollywood was also. Wherever clusters of worker
bees (mind control
operatives) were
located, money went into a subsidiary bank of the
Federal Reserve to keep the funds
continually
channeling back to them. This was true in areas of immense
illegal profit, like in Vegas,
where the whole
town was built on graft and everyone inside knew who
got paid first so no one got hurt
or stepped on.
154
I was constantly
traveling to meet with members who were tied into the
subsidiary Federal
Reserve Banks. Pete
Wilson, who at that time was a San Diego based
Senator from California, was one.
These individuals
tapped into my mind files for the Federal Reserve
information and input
banking information
- everything from profit/loss standpoints to new
account numbers in subsidiary
banks that worker
bees could be given to use to launder covert monies.
Then, I reported it all back to
Henry and I even
had internal computer analyzers, bookkeepers, data
compilers, statisticians, etc., that
Henry created
inside my mind file system so all the data/input that was
delivered to me could be
instantly filed,
computed and readied for delivery to Henry. I also had
a system to maintain the original
information from
individuals, so Henry could double-check my figures.
He ran cross-checks, periodically
setting me down and
accessing information while he ran tabs on his
calculator. This wasn't his job, it was
Greenspan's, but
Henry always double-checked and cross-checked
everything to keep everyone honest
and to make sure my
systems were properly gathering and compiling, then
computing, the information.
It was as if I had
a whole set of financial workers inside my head that
were specially trained to handle all
of this, like a
computer program. I believe lots of the corporate heads
that reported their earnings to me
were not aware I
was a robot. I even had to write down numbers for some
of them, just for show, when
they got overly
concerned that I wouldn't be able to remember all they
had reported to me. So, that
observation leads
me to believe that they weren't all aware of the mind
control enhancements I had in
place, guaranteeing
I would perform to perfection.
Kissinger and
Nelson Rockefeller's Plan
One day, Nelson
Rockefeller was leaning over me in the back of the limo
talking to Henry as if I
didn't exist. They
were talking about the advanced research projects on
brain studies and they spoke as if
they were the only
intellectual elite capable of understanding the
advanced technology, as compared to
the "peons" as they
called the uninitiated. They spoke of their elite
dream of ridding the world of the
non-thinking, the
genetically inferior, the deficient people of the
world, so they could have sole heir and
control over the
earth for advanced purposes. They spoke over me,
leaning on me and using me as a table
or having me hold
their drinks, or Henry's cigar, while they conversed
about erudite and diverse
scientific topics.
There were times
when Henry and Rocky planned lots of strategies
between the ride in the car
from New York to
Washington, DC. Henry had a different type of smell -
a European aroma and his suits
always smelled of
him and his cigars. He smoked cigars the whole entire
way, at times they were Cuban.
Often he blew the
smoke right in my face and it was hard to breathe.
Sometimes I couldn't tell what
world I was in, the
real world or the one "over the rainbow." It got
extremely confusing at times but
Henry told me to
rely on those around me to help me know where I was. I
was told, "like a pretty
ballerina led
through the dance steps by the perfect lead man, your
partner is always a reliable mirror for
you to see yourself
in." New York and Washington, DC were my home away
from home, but Henry made
me keep my eyes
closed often while we were in transit and frequently
asked me, "Vhere do you think you
are?"
I would try to
answer, guessing our location and he would intentionally
attempt to scramble my
reality by telling
me, "No, you're now in San Francisco," or some other
place we weren't really. In front of
me, Henry would
tell Rockefeller that we were in Pennsylvania, when we
were actually on Pennsylvania
Avenue at the White
House.
Henry and Rocky
often placed me between them in the back seat. The
glass partition was closed,
shutting out the
driver, creating the privacy they needed for their
strategic planning. There was a
television and a
bar inside but they didn't drink alcohol, as they were
very intent on what they were
planning. Rocky
often got all excited in regard to an agenda and he
would tell Henry, "Put this message
in for her to
deliver to Nixon," or whomever the plan was for.
155
Henry placed the
needle in between my knuckles and if I bled, he pulled
out one of his fancy
handkerchiefs to
wipe it off. One time he joked to Rocky, "My vife
vonders vhere all the kerchiefs she
buys me are." He
laughed and said he had to throw a lot of them away
because he couldn't explain the
blood spots. It was
better for both of us when he was able to replace
the needle with touch programs.
Rocky always agreed
with Henry but Henry didn't always agree with
Rocky. So in his coarse,
froggy voice Rocky
would say, "Okay, advise me." Then Henry would tell
him how to correct the plan.
Henry was always
right with the people he was with. One day they talked
about Happy, and Rocky said
he was worried
about her drinking. He told Henry he didn't know what to
do.
Henry said, "You
need to get her into a program."
Henry's Love for
His Friend Rocky
Henry and Rocky got
along extremely well. Henry genuinely laughed when
he was with
Rockefeller. He
seemed to love to be with him. Henry really wanted him
to be president and said that
then they could
have really been a team. Henry said it was fruitless,
that Rockefeller would only lose
anyway and it
wasn't worth risking the whole party's success by running
someone who couldn't win.
Henry said
Rockefeller didn't have enough popular following, despite
his name, and that people would
hold his wealth
against him, since he was already publicly known to be
rich. Henry thought it was really
smart of Bob to
cloak his wealth for as long as he was able to. He
explained that most people didn't like
their leaders to be
rich, he said, "well off would pass, but not rich."
Henry's first
thought usually was "How will the masses react to this?"
What will their attitudes
and impressions
be?" He decided what they needed to think and then he
went about structuring his
eventual desired
outcome. "May take awhile, but we've got time. We'll
just work on them until we get
them the way that
we want them. Then they will be happy and we will be
happy because we made them
that way."
San Francisco
I was only a
teenager, and was in San Francisco with my mom and dad and
Craig. I was taken
from my family and
men in suits escorted me through metal gates, almost
like a prison, into a big
building with
cement floors. They took me into a noisy room where a
machine was printing sheets of
money. There was
lots of money! A man who worked there said, "The boss
says to inflate it. There's a
munitions deal
comin' down and we don't want the Fed (reserve) to show
a surplus in this area."
One of the men
holding my arm said, "Okay," and stepped aside.
I delivered the
message, "The dock at 5," and was immediately escorted
back out. They took me
down a hall and out
past a turnstile into a black sedan and put me in
the back seat, pushed my head
down and we drove
away.
There were lots of
arms and drug shipments in San Francisco and they
raised and lowered the
amount of money in
the Federal Reserve to hide the activity in the
area. They had to inflate it when there
was no drug or
munitions activity, so when there was, it would be even
and steady and won't show the
influx of the money
into the area. I was taken to many large buildings,
with high fences and guards.
On another one of
our so-called trips to Frisco, I was taken from the
St. Francis Hotel where I was
sitting in the
restaurant with my parents and Craig. When the men in
suits arrived to get me, I had on a
yellow dress and
went into the bathroom and removed from my large
leather purse, a carefully folded,
white form-fitting
sleeveless shift that my mom had made for me. I had
never worn it before. After I
changed and put on
a small white-veiled pill box hat and fixed my hair,
which had been professionally
teased and ratted
into a flip, I went out from the bathroom where a
suited man took my arm and led me
156
out a back entrance
of the hotel. It was cold and foggy, and I had
short sleeves and no jacket. I didn't
know where Craig or
my parents had gone. The man in the suit took me
out to a black car and put me
inside and told the
driver, "Deliver the young lady downtown, like we
discussed." I just sat in the back
seat and the driver
rolled up the window between the seats. Another man
stopped the car on the docks
and came around,
got me out, and replaced my little white hat with a
wide brimmed one and told me to
go down to a ship,
and pointed his finger in its direction. I walked
down there and it was still very cold. I
stood by a big ship
until a man brought me aboard. Then I waited in a
room, in "park mode" until a man
came up to me and
said, "I'm Fred."
I replied, "Pier
69," and he pushed me away. I walked back to the dock
where the driver was
waiting and he
waved me back into the car and took me back to the
hotel. I changed back into my yellow
dress and went back
to meet my mom and dad and Craig in the restaurant.
I never got to eat what I
ordered.
I returned to San
Francisco many times over the years, for different
assignments, some including
the United States
Mint. Henry said there were some jobs that just had
to be taken care of from the inside,
so he sent me
there, often in conjunction with an agenda from Alan
Greenspan. One time, I was heavily
disguised as a male
and armed with false security badges.
At other times,
another slave accompanied me and we were both disguised
as males.
In the early years
of the late 60's before Craig and I were married and
then in the early 70's after
we were married, we
often drove up the California coast to Lake
Naciamento with friends or family to
waterski during the
summer. Craig and I often took side trips where he
would take me to San Francisco
for the day or to
other places in the California Redwoods, where there
would be private meetings held
and Henry needed me
there for mind file usage.
Lee Iacocca
I delivered many
names of banks and available subsidiary bank account
numbers to many
corporate owners,
including Lee Iacocca. They continually changed the
accounts so they couldn't be
traced and sent me
all over to sleep with and/or deliver account
numbers to corporate heads all over the
nation. I was even
flown from place to place on corporate Lear jets in
order to deliver account numbers
comfortably and in
an entertaining manner, with security features
included, to corporate heads.
Lee had monopolies
with other big corporations, international ones, and
he also owned parts of
major utility
companies. I heard him talk on his personal phone often.
It was a big deal back in those
days for a man to
have a portable phone, and he had one he wore under
his jacket. I traveled the skies
with Lee Iacocca,
doing whatever he needed in his private jet. There
was lots of room inside, but it wasn't
a fancy one at
first. I polished his shoes, gave him oral sex, whatever
he wanted.
I performed oral
sex on Lee Iacocca on his Learjet before giving him
the number for the new
accounts he needed
to use, plus some other information from Henry. I
was instructed to offer, "Can I
take your glasses,
Mr. Iacocca?" And after he was satisfied, I was to
smile and say, "I hope you were
pleased."
Lee insisted on
these information transfers happening in the private
confines of his jet for security
and I had to wear
disguises to board and deboard the jet. I just looked
like a maid or at other times a
secretary. Never
the same disguises, and for Mr. Iacocca I had to even
wear some of the tooth disguises
while getting on
and off the plane. He always had me remove them once
we were airborne and then I
removed my clothing
disguises in exchange for something more
comfortable and appropriate for
traveling.
157
Lee Iacocca wore a
tie block with a gold chain on it. I sat next to
him, put my head on his
shoulder and played
with his chain before I unzipped his pants and
performed oral sex. He was kind
enough to hand me a
handkerchief to wipe my face afterwards and then he
took a quick nap. He said it
always cleared his
mind to take a quick nap but not a long one because
that type made him feel thickheaded.
I usually
accompanied him on a business trip he already had planned.
There were other stops
after him and I
seldom flew back with him, but instead connected with
another flight or different people
that Henry wanted
me to see.
If I began to
remember the Lee Iacocca information, I was programmed to
jump off tall buildings.
"You will have the
compulsion to jump," they said to me at UCLA, after
I'd been drugged and was lying
on an exam table
listening to my instructions via earphones.
Drug Operations
New York City was a
major area of operation and I was taken there often
to make drug
connections for
Nelson Rockefeller and the CIA. I think Rockefeller was
manipulated by the CIA. I think
they may have
blackmailed him for things that they knew about him. I
don't know for sure.
In New York, the
Times Square Clock Tower was the site of many drug
deals with Rockefeller and
the CIA working
together. On one deal my programming and information
was as follows: "Meet me in
Times Square. You
will be known by your fruits. Go to the fruit stand
and buy (always different
combinations of
fruit) an apple, two pears, a banana and two oranges,
then walk over and sit on the
bench and set your
fruit out next to you on the bench so it can be
seen. Give the man who sits down and
eats the apple the
message. Only give the message if he eats the apple.
Give no one else the message."
Once the man
arrived and ate the apple, the message was to tell the man
where to pick up the drugs.
It was dangerous
business and they stationed three men on rooftops who
were armed with highpowered
rifles to protect
and watch over the drug deal. They said that I was
too important an asset to risk
losing. Years
before, I had been programmed to say to anyone who
attempted to access me without
permission, "Hi,
stupid. Men who don't value their life mess with me
when my owner is not around. But
it's the last time
they ever do."
Opium, heroin, and
cocaine sales went down. All I had to do was to tell
them where it was located.
There were also
drug deals locally in California. These took place over
the years at Disneyland,
Busch Gardens,
Knott's Berry Farm, World Fairs and other public places.
These transactions occurred
when I was with
other people, like my family or friends, who took me to
the location under the guise of 'a
day of
entertainment.' I was instructed to deliver information to a man
who made himself known to me.
My controllers told
me what type of clothing the man would be wearing
and what color hat. When I saw
the target that
matched the physical description that I was
preprogrammed to look for, I excused myself
from my friends and
family, telling them I had to go to the bathroom.
When the target made contact with
me, I would ask him
a question, like, if he wanted a 'Twinkie.' If he
said yes, then I'd deliver the message
to him. There was
always a precise word combination he would have to
say back to me in response to my
question. Then and
only then would or could I robotically deliver the
message.
There were numerous
drug and/or munitions transactions that I was used
to facilitate that took
place all over the
world in conjunction with other outings I was taken
on.
Reagan was in New
York often. It was called a "Double Whammy" when I
would sleep with and
deliver a message
to Reagan, and then deliver the message back to the
Council. I usually had sex with
158
Reagan after the
drug deals. I don't think he knew about them. It was a
separate deal. But, they
combined the two
jobs for me into one time frame, for efficiency.
Mondavi Winery
Robert Mondavi had
a Lear jet. Craig took me to the Mondavi Cellers in
Napa Valley, California in
the wine country.
There was a man to whom I was programmed to give
numbers of accounts that Alan
Greenspan had set
up for him to launder certain monies through. I never
spent the night with Craig
during that trip
through the wine country, though it was supposed to be
our time away together, for just
the two of us. All
I consciously remembered until later was stopping at
winery after winery, yet I usually
didn't taste the
wine. I slept with Mr. Mondavi; he always wore a suit
or very nice casual clothes. He was
"dapper," as Bob
would say.
Big Sur, California
When Craig and I
went to Big Sur for weekends away, we often went to a
beautiful restaurant
called Napenthe. It
was located on a crag overlooking the ocean and at
night it took on a magical glow,
cast by the many
tiny candles lit all over the restaurant. Craig got us
a nice table and we sat down and
then a switch would
occur. When he got up to go to the bathroom,
another man came and sat down next
to me in Craig's
place. I ended up having sex and delivering a message
to this man. There were many
such occasions
where Craig "moved over" and changed places with
governors, or presidents, or
entertainers -
whomever my controllers needed me to be with.
"For there is
nothing covered up, that will not be revealed; or hidden
that shall not be known.
Therefore
whatsoever ye have spoken in darkness shall be heard in the
light; and that which ye have
whispered in
private rooms shall be proclaimed upon the housetops."
-- Luke 12: 2-3
159
Brice Taylor -
Thanks for the Memories
Chapter Fifteen:
Hope and Kissinger Utilize the Kennedy Family
I remember being
taken to a place where a huge green lawn defined by a
white fence traveled as
far as the eye
could see. From what I understood, this was the home of
the Kennedy family for
generations. Joseph
and Rose, the older Kennedys lived there. There was
a big two-story white house
that had a porch on
the outside and a big circular driveway in front.
This is where the Kennedy family
met for family
gatherings and annual reunions. Joe and Rose invited the
entire family. I was there,
dressed as a maid
for the day, in a black dress and little white apron.
It was my job to deliver the
"goodies" on a
silver platter. But there were lots of maids on hand for
these types of occasions so when I
slipped off with
one of the Kennedy men, I wasn't missed. I usually
started off serving hors d'oeuvres, but
when a Kennedy man
approached me and gave me the eye, I was instructed
to continue holding my tray,
so it still looked
like I was working as we walked into the house. Then
we would go to a back bathroom or
bedroom for sex.
Later, I would reappear, carrying my tray of food.
Then I would mingle and usually
would be approached
again, so the whole routine started all over again
and I would sexually service
another of the
Kennedy men.
I got started
"maidtressing," as Bob jokingly called it, at their
parties when I was a young preteen,
"going on
twenty-five," when I went there the first time. The younger
men in the family selected me but
it didn't take long
for the word to get around and the older men wanted
a try. I looked older than twelve.
The programmed
personality for these parties felt that JFK taught me a
lot. He played with me in
a teasing,
fun-loving way, so different than Ted who was so violent.
After dinner JFK often went into the
family television
room. He sat on the couch, put his feet up on the
coffee table and leaned back to watch
television. He
liked to have a short afterdinner drink. He didn't care
if he was watching alone, he laughed
and laughed at the
shows he watched. He was an unusually cheerful man
most of the time.
When JFK was
assassinated, they told me before they did it, and after
they had killed him they
said to me, "He is
the President and we can make him live or make him
die and no one would ever miss
you should you step
out of line. Then we would have to take care of
you, like your little boyfriend JFK."
It was sad the year
JFK died. Everyone wore black and Rose, sitting in
her wheelchair, kept
crying. It was a
very sad affair. I think the sex was down that year
because evidently some of the men
were genuinely
grieving. Jackie cried a lot at family parties after he
died. She had a hard time adjusting
at first but the
Kennedy family stood by her and helped her. She sat
with the ladies and cried, and they
listened and
supported her.
Ted Kennedy was
brutal. He was one of the most violent and meanest men
I was with. He liked to
have sex with me
anywhere and everywhere he could, but he especially
liked to have sex in cold climates
in rooms with a
fireplace. One place had a big rock fireplace and he
made a big fire and then wanted to
have sex all night.
When he neared orgasm he would slap and beat me. He
hit me so hard it felt like my
head would explode.
Then in his proper Kennedy accent, he would call me
a "c--t." He liked to tie my
arms over my head
to the headboard or if there wasn't anything to
attach my hands and wrists to, he
would tie them
tightly together. Lots of times he made me stay tied up
for a long time. He liked to hand
cuff me also. He
was really into bondage and if I ever neared any
sexual pleasure he would start hitting
and slapping me,
and once that began it was like he couldn't stop
himself and quickly escalated into
extreme violence.
He seemed to require that in order to orgasm.
I was flown to him
in the New England States. At dusk, we walked
outside together in a forest.
There was a real
chill in the air. He told me to strip and I was forced
to take my clothes off outside in the
cold. He ordered me
to dance around the forest like I was a fairy. Then
he laughed like he was drunk or
160
out of his mind. He
had a rifle with him and he shot it into the air
and it really scared me. He said he
shot the gun just
so my nipples would stand up.
There were other
times after he finished violently satisfying himself
with me that he would break
down and cry. He
was very disturbed. But the hurting he delivered never
stopped. He used me often until
I was just over
twenty-five.
Bob offered my
services to the Kennedys any time they wished. He said
they could count on my
yearly service at
their family get-togethers. Bob told them, "It's so
nice to get good help and it's so
wonderful when they
are versatile!" Then he laughed and pointed to me.
So I was sent in year after year.
Over time, I had to
have sex with all of the Kennedy men, including
little John. He wasn't very old
when they first
brought him to me. Probably about twelve. They believe
in training their males at an
early age by expert
women so that they will continue the Kennedy power
that they felt was derived from
sex. In their eyes
to have sex was to be powerful.
Rose seemed to be a
matriarch. From what I saw, she ran the family. She
seemed to influence
Joseph's decisions
in business and would make it known when the family
sat down to eat, usually at very
long tables. She
gave an update on their lives and then went on to give
information on family business
investments, trade,
etc. Some relatives took notes and must have gone
right home and followed through
on Rose's
suggestions. After she finished she would smile and look
around at her family with such love.
Then she sat down.
Rose had a very commanding presence about her. She
had more dignity than I
witnessed in the
Royal family in England. She just demanded respect and
she got it. They seemed to treat
her very carefully,
not ever wanting to offend her. They had very
formal, picture perfect dining tables and
dinners, complete
with a huge staff of waiters and waitresses. I hardly
ever had to work as a waitress
because usually one
of the men would get a 'headache' or have to 'go to
the bathroom' before, during, or
after dinner.
Instead, I was more often in a side bedroom wearing a
skimpy french maid's uniform and
sexually satisfying
one the of the Kennedy men. I was never instructed
to do two at once, though - they
politely took
turns. As far as I know, Rose never discovered their
secret game.
Bob continually
offered the Kennedy family clan my services, for free,
and kept sending me there.
So the Kennedys and
Bob always had a good thing going, always
scratching each other's back. Bob played
golf with one or
more of them and took me along to caddy, when they
visited him in the Springs. There
were times when
three other sex slaves and I would have sex with one of
them. The Kennedy men can't
have too many
women. I don't think all of the Kennedys golfed. Ted came
along even if he didn't golf. He
would get a room on
the golf course and perform violent sex on me.
Afterwards he would drag me back
to Bob, who would
be in the middle of his game and Bob would
absentmindedly tell him to leave me with
him. Bob was so
focused on his game he didn't notice if I had blood on
my face or body, or if I was a
wreck, and I would
have to follow Bob on the green and do whatever he
asked until we left the golf
course. Then he
would want me to get down on my knees and give him oral
sex in the back of the limo.
The Kennedys
usually had their own means of transportation and drove
separately. It seemed like
it must have been
in the family will that they had to drive in their
own limos, with their own drivers. But
Bob took advantage
of us being alone in his limo; he never missed the
chance for sex.
My daughter Kelly
was prostituted to the younger Kennedy men. They had
a lot of boys. The
Kennedy boys were
taught early how to 'handle' their women. And I was
there to teach them about sex
and they were
learning how to handle a slave. They knew they could have
anything they wished from me,
and that I was
totally subservient. They weren't old enough to be
trusted with the full mind-control
information. They
had to be initiated first into the family secrets.
161
Kelly and I
sometimes worked together at the Kennedy's. Sometimes Ted
liked to have the
"motherdaughter sex
team" that our controllers programmed us to be. Ted
always violently hurt us both.
He had a son, who
liked to pick Kelly for sex. He took her off by the
hand when she was still a little girl,
and he was much
older.
All the Kennedy
brothers - JFK, Ted, and Robert - had sons, and there
were a lot of other elite
families who
carried the same sexual beliefs in regard to their men.
And Bob gave me to lots of them, as
he arranged for
them to have me inconspicuously at their parties as a
"maidtress."
I overheard Rose
talk about the fact that some of the Kennedy money was
tied directly into NASA
"subprojects" they
funded and somehow there was a huge profit from it.
That's why there's the Kennedy
Space Center. NASA
is much more than it seems. Research has included
"inner space stations," which
was the term I
heard used at times in relation to the mind. The
Kennedys always wanted to be on the
leading edge of
technology. "First is best," they said. Rose was a
shrewd businesswoman. She delivered
the facts while Joe
sat beside her. It definitely looked like she wore
the pants in the family.
I never did have
sex with Joe. He was elderly and mostly sat around and
talked. I think he knew
about me, though. I
could tell by the look in his eyes that he somehow
understood, but I believe that his
sons kept the truth
from him about my being under total mind control. I
overheard Ted say to one of his
brothers that, "he
wouldn't be able to understand the technology." This
leads me to believe that Joe was
unaware of the mind
control technology.
The wives and women
in the Kennedy clan seemed oblivious of what was
going on. Once they got
together and began
talking they didn't seem to notice where their
husbands, sons, boyfriends, etc. were.
The men sent me in
to serve them tea when they were all together so the
women would see me being
busy. But I usually
had sex with many of their husbands, sometimes more
than once, before the party
was over. I served
the women tea an inordinate amount of times so they
wouldn't suspect that I was
doing anything else.
They even brought
in other people's sons who were not relatives, but
they were somehow
connected to the
family - maybe through distant marriage or something.
They switched me, gave me
instructions and
then gave me their son. They wanted all these young
men to carry on in the Kennedy
tradition. If they
were not actually close family relatives they would
say they wanted them to lend their
support always to
the Kennedy family. It seemed like a one for all and
all for one type situation.
Rose approved of
Jackie. She thought Jackie was the greatest and spoke
to her often at family
gatherings. Joan
Kennedy was always jealous of everyone, especially her
sisters-in-law. She often drank
until she got drunk
and obnoxious. "An embarrassment to the family," is
what they always said. And Ted
treated her awfully.
As Joe got older,
he was confined to a wheel chair. The last time I saw
him he was tied into his
wheelchair and had
some sort of IV or oxygen unit with him. Then he
died and wasn't there the next time
I went. I knew
because I was updated, by closed circuit television
(room 222), what the family news was
so I could have
appropriate conversations with the Kennedys. They are
connected to the Council and
represent them
heavily. Joseph Kennedy was big in business and had
holdings that were well connected.
What I overheard
was that when their money was connected, it was
protected and thereby guaranteed a
place in the power
structure. But the money, the big money, had to come
before a person was accepted.
The theory was that
if a person could amass money then it proved they
were smart enough, and if they
knew how to get it
'connected' then they were pliable enough, and if
they followed through on what was
asked of them they
could become RICH and FAMOUS. Then all that was left
to do was to create a media
public identity to
portray whatever image they wanted projected by the
media industries they funded. It
was all a big cycle
where one fed into another and they all ended up on
top.
162
Bob knew the
protocol with the Kennedy family. He was always kind and
gracious and giving, and
his nasty jokes
about the elite were watered down whenever it came to
any of the Kennedys because he
didn't ever want to
be in disfavor with them.
Bob also sent me to
different vacation spots around the world, to
entertain certain members of the
Kennedy family. He
never minded paying what he called, "Big bucks," to
fly me to someone who could
make a difference.
Then he would say, "Ah, yes!" and get that little
sly smile on his face. He knew that the
connections into
powerful leaders and influential people would pay off
very handsomely. So he didn't
mind paying to fly
me, and later, me and "my little filly," as he
called Kelly, all over the world, sometimes
on the Concorde.
"So I declare to
you, brothers, that flesh and blood cannot inherit the
kingdom of God, nor does
their perishable
inherit the imperishable. Listen, I tell you a
mystery: We will not all sleep, but we will all
be changed - in a
flash, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last
trumpet."
-- 1 Corinthians 16
163
Brice Taylor -
Thanks for the Memories
Chapter Sixteen:
Viva Las Vegas
The Council
targeted and used areas like Las Vegas and Tahoe that drew
large crowds. They also
were aware that
when people were drinking alcohol and watching a show,
their subconscious minds were
even more open to
taking in deeply what they were viewing. They knew
all about harmonics and they
used people who
were big stars to deliver their messages. There were
times when they didn't have their
programmed
entertainers in place at shows, so they didn't have an
inside connection to the show talent
in order to direct
them to deliver their messages to the crowd. If this
occurred they would send someone
to attend the show.
Preferably before the show or at intermission, this
person would request of the
master of
ceremonies to ask this entertainer to say some specific words
in a certain order, explaining that
it would mean so
much to a certain special person in the audience, and
then they would slip the M.C. a
large sum of money.
Later on, the celebrity performing the show would
deliver the preplanned words
that were meant to
have an "intended programmed effect" on certain
programmed mind-controlled
slaves in the
audience. If the performer was under mind control he or
she would have been
preprogrammed to
deliver the activating messages during the performance.
Metro Goldwyn Meyer
(MGM) Grand was synonymous with the Mob and the
Hollywood celebrity
connection in
Vegas. The hotels were small complex microcosms of an
otherwise corrupt group of
mobsters owning
their share of 'the strip.' The hotels were a way of
sorting their interests.
Bob Hope had ties
to the MGM Grand and directly to the Mob that owned
and ran it. I was used
there with many
mobsters; wealthy men who were sometimes ruthless but
many times seemed to have
large emotions and
loyalties to certain causes.
Vegas held a lot of
memories for me in the late 60's and early 70's,
during the peak of my use with
Hope, Nixon,
Reagan, Kissinger and others. To insure their secrecy, I
was taken to Vegas for
"reconditioning"
every so often. These times included trauma to keep
the experiences sequestered from
my conscious mind.
After my children were born, they tied the memory of
the trauma to threats used to
remind me of the
safety or lack of it for my children in order to keep
their secrets really safe. These mob
guys (Sicilian
mostly) had lots of money and power in their own
respective territory. That was as far as
their power went,
so they created a network amongst each other to
insure their power in many places.
They formed links
to government 'political' figures in an effort to
insure that they didn't lose their
precious 'holdings'
in areas that counted. Drugs, porn, baby sales,
prostitution--they made their money
wherever they could
in order to keep their holdings.
After I sexually
serviced Bob Hope in Vegas, I would often be visited
by one of his mob buddies
who would "give me
the treatment." That meant drug me, isolate me, and
rape me whatever trauma it
took to keep my
programming intact for use with Bob, the "Prez" and
others. They were brutal, and knew
just how to
terrorize me but not physically damage me too much just
inflict a lot of pain. The Mob was
very connected to
Bob and various government operations, and had their
own pecking order that needed
to be followed to
insure that a person stayed alive. The Council was
above the Mob, above the
government, and
literally coordinated how things went down with the
Mob; and ultimately was
instrumental in
taking away much of their power and then redistributing
it as needed.
During the trauma
the mobsters sometimes called me "deafling," and told
me the walls in Vegas
had eyes and ears
and could watch and hear me at all times, and that
there were powerful men there who
could see me all
the time.
Frank Sinatra
164
Bob gave me to
"Uncle Frankie" one night after Frank Sinatra did a show
in Vegas. Frank liked
to use whips and
chains and those very scary leather straps with me. He
liked to orgasm while I was lying
there on my back
with him on top, while he continually tightened the
leather strap around my neck until
I was nearly dead -
at that point he could orgasm. I had sex with him
often and did the things he told me
to do. One time he
told me to go over to the man wearing the diamond
stickpin and give him a message,
"I love you..." I
wasn't able to retrieve all of this memory because it
turned into carousel rides, whirling,
spinning, like a
top, so I couldn't think to remember. This programming
is called spin programming and
is intended to
disorient and confuse. The whirling feeling I felt in my
brain was often combined with
hearing a popular
song playing in my head, as the lyrics reminded me,
"I'm so dizzy my head is
spinning."
The whole Las Vegas
scene was always an extremely painful nightmare for
me. I was subjected to
lots of violence
there from Frank Sinatra, "to keep all the little
secrets quiet," he said. He was brutal to
me. He tied me up,
down, tied my wrists together, slapped me over and
over, used bright lights, raped
me and strapped me
with a leather belt. Vegas was never fun. Porn was
also filmed there and I was
prostituted to high
government officials and friends of Bob. Uncle
Frank took care of the "security" so I
didn't ever step
out of line. The consequences were disastrous every
time I stepped out of line. There was
a number system
that measured things I did wrong - if I disobeyed in
any way, I was marked down a
certain number of
points. Only I didn't ever know what the number
system was or how it worked. So I
never knew if I'd
reached the point where I had to be "taken care of."
It was very scary and I was always
confused and
couldn't think because I didn't know, couldn't remember,
what it was that was bad to do.
So I was afraid
everything I was doing could cause some point to be
added or taken away. They kept
score for years and
the stakes went up after I had the kids. Then they
threatened to hurt them or when
the kids were older
they put me in front of all three of my children,
and got very close to killing me, in
order to traumatize
all of us, so we wouldn't remember. In later years
my little daughter, Kelly was often
prostituted to many
famous and sexually perverted men, including
pedophiles like George Bush, Mickey
Rooney and others.
Uncle Frank was
younger than Bob, and Bob said Frank could run faster
to catch me if the need
ever arose. Uncle
Frank was the single worst heavy with me - except for
Ted Kennedy, Francois
Mitterand, and my
own father. Frank was very scary and I reported to
him directly in Vegas. I met with
him upstairs and
listened and followed his every direction. I went into
a hypnotic trance and listened
carefully, and then
he would snap his fingers to switch me into another
personality, and later on I would
do everything as he
commanded.
"Uncle Frank" told
me who to sit by at the baccarat, black jack or crap
tables. He told me what to
say to certain men,
where and how to have sex with them and gave me a
key to the rooms to take them
to. These men had
two hours of sheer luxury and sex, and sometimes it
ended with me soaping them
down and redressing
them. Sex, whipped cream, chocolate sauce, whatever
they wanted for added
pleasure. Whips and
chains and leather straps, that Uncle Frank often
used to nearly strangle me, were
provided to these
men.
Frank was very
private about his private life - to the point of
violence if anyone ever asked him
anything. Bob had
to remind Frank that I was of small stature and told
him he didn't want him to "break
anything" on me.
Frank could get very carried away. Once, he grabbed my
hair and kept pushing my
head into a full
tub of water until I couldn't breathe and was gagging,
choking and grasping for air. Uncle
Frank was the one
who made me really sick in Vegas. He nearly killed me
and knew all kinds of ways to
torture a person. I
saw him break a guy's arm on the corner of a desk,
very easily, like it was a pretzel.
The guy fainted. He
loved to do stuff like that to people. But I did
the men Uncle Frank told me to, and
did the best job I
possibly could, or there would be retaliation. If I
didn't perform to their standards I got
hurt very badly.
Uncle Frank would throw me up against walls and when
my body hit, I felt like I was
broken. "Body
slams," he called them, and I got a lot of those. He
nearly killed me after I was with some
165
darkskinned,
foreign leader dressed in a white robe with a white turban
on. This man was brutal also.
Frank shaved my
pubic hair for this man. That was also scary. Frank
told Bob he wanted to do it himself,
so he took me into
the bathroom in the hotel and took one of those big
electric shavers and made me lie
down on the floor
and spread my legs so he could shave me. He pinched
and nicked me with that razor,
and just laughed
when I jumped from the pain. Tears were running
uncontrollably down my face, I
wasn't allowed to
cry but somehow, sometimes I just couldn't help it.
One of the personalities that dealt
with Uncle Frank
was tied directly into a system of reporting
personalities, led by 'Sandy,' my main
reporting
personality. These personalities reported everything that
happened, out of traumaconditioning,
training and
terror, with no ability to lie or protect themselves.
Often I was given
instruction by a group of men in a darkened,
smoke-filled room in Vegas. The
man in charge of
the security area I entered, knew me, and always waved
me through. These men
seemed to operate
above the law, above the rules, and had connections
inside lots of casinos. The
messages I
delivered were gambling tips, information about drug and
guns deals, and other illegal and
hidden agendas.
"Number 9 on the line," was a code I was given and was
sent in on many different men
with a
pre-programmed agenda. I was told a man's physical description
and where he would be at a
precise time. I met
him and delivered the messages I was told to relay.
If the man wanted more, I was
instructed to
"follow through," if they wanted sex. At times, though, I
was told to "give them the slip," if
my controllers
didn't want me to have sex with them.
These top men all
knew to watch out for me and someone was always
"keeping an eye" on what I
was doing. My
father or mother just disappeared, as usual; I don't know
where they went or what they
were doing while I
was working for my controllers in Vegas. My father
had connections to these men, but
they tried not to
be seen together. They exhibited secret hand signals
to each other from a distance. I
watched as my
father performed these signals, and in Vegas he always
wore his diamond pinky ring. He
raised his hands,
crossed his arms and displayed his first two fingers.
Then he shook his arms down
once. A man
watching him mirrored the same motion back to him then
scratched his nose, after which
they immediately
turned away from each other. My father took me up to
our hotel room where he
escorted me around
the room and "cued" me to certain things in the
room. I was given suggestions that
whenever I touched
the gold fixtures in the bathroom I would forever
forget what I'd been involved in.
While holding my
right shoulder with his hand, my father gave me the
suggestion, "you will open the
door, normally, and
naturally, wide awake and ready for work, whenever
I knock twice." He knocked
twice on the door
to demonstrate. He cued me to the telephone, either
instructing me to answer it or
later on when I was
married to let Craig answer. At times my father
would bring clothing, jewelry, or
props for
assignments. In a total trance state, I listened intently
while he filled my head with instructions
- times to report
to different room numbers, who to look for and the
message to deliver. My father would
"snap me out of
it," by snapping his fingers. There were times he
slapped me to access different
personalities.
Sometimes they had
me so booked with men for sex that they had to
program me to go to the
bathroom in between
men; I was so robotical I wouldn't remember to go
to the bathroom or even be able
to feel that I had
to. I was just one big act, as I went from room to
room with sometimes as many as four
men a night. Each
man had to have at least two hours. Bob said that was
minimum time to have to wind
up and then have to
wind down (he pretended he was screwing something
tightly and then he changed
directions and
started humping). I looped all around the hotels, from
room to room, having sex with
men. I was
instructed to start at 8 p.m. and then did another man at
10, and one at 12, and the last at 2.
At 4 a.m. I was
finished. It was a nightmarish swirl of endless men. I
performed the sex acts, was
electroshocked in
between and then switched personalities and went on.
They were Bob's friends, Uncle
Frank's friends,
mob connections, entertainers and politicians. They
had lots of friends between the two
of them. They
nearly owned Congress.
166
Uncle Frank
reminded me I'd be meeting St. Peter if I didn't cooperate
and toe the line. He
told me about St.
Peter at the Pearly Gates and explained why I would
be there - which was because he
needed to kill me
because I stepped out of line. This was in the late
60's and early 70's, before my kids
were born. Once
they were born these men used threats related to my
kids to terrorize me. Bob would
throw his arm
around Uncle Frank's neck, wink at him and say, "Take
care of her Frank." That's when I
knew I had gotten
out of line again and was terrified, waiting in
anxious anticipation for my punishment.
Frank slapped me
over and over, sometimes until my cheeks were stinging
and burning like they were on
fire. Then he would
throw his head back and laugh. He was obviously
very sadistic.
Sometimes Bob would
fly in just to have a quick meeting with Frank.
Sometimes I flew with him
for a quickie.
Brutal pornography
was filmed at the Landmark Hotel in Vegas during my
late teens and early
20's (196874). They
used costumes and sex toys, and had themes for the
porn that was often violent. At
times people were
killed in the porn. They didn't kill me because I was
a programmed asset and they had
far-reaching plans
for me.
Uncle Frank could
have had me killed if he wanted to. He had friends
who killed people quickly
and neatly. He
showed me what his friends could do and I was forced to
watch as they tortured and killed
people. Then I knew
I could be snuffed at any moment and that everyone,
including Bob, knew what I
was doing. I
couldn't comprehend that there wasn't any mysterious,
miraculous reason why they knew
exactly where I
was; in essence, they knew because they had sent me
there! In my programmed reality I
believed that my
controllers magically knew everything I did.
Uncle Frank played
the following song for me to listen to, the words of
which I will write as well as
my memory serves me:
"Anybody here seen
my ole' friend John? Can you tell me where he's gone?
You meet a lot of
people but it seems the good they die young,
you just look
around and they're gone.
Anybody here seen
my ole' friend Martin? Can you tell me where he's
gone?
You meet a lot of
people but it seems the good they die young,
you just look
around and they're gone.
Anybody here seen
my ole 'friend Bobby? Can you tell me where he's gone?
You meet a lot of
people but it seems the good they die young,
you just look
around and they're gone."
While I listened,
strapped to a chair, Uncle Frank sat and tapped his
foot and when the song was
finished he asked
me, "You got that?" Then he slapped me over and over.
He said the Kennedy brothers
got what they
deserved for being stupid and stepping out of line. He
said, "At anytime you could be next
if you get stupid
on me." I still feel like crying when I hear that
song.
Tahoe was connected
to the Mob also and many entertainers performing in
Vegas and
Tahoe/Reno were
used by the Mob. I believe Helen Reddy and Karen
Carpenter may have been
manipulated also. I
was programmed to some of Karen Carpenter's songs
and felt very sad when she
died, like I knew
her. I believe she was also under mind control. Bob
supplied the Mob with illegal
business and access
to his political connections, and they supplied him
with protection and connections
all over the world.
They were networked up, and inter-linked all over
the place. There were certain
favorites in Vegas
that Bob shared me with.
167
Jimmy the Greek was
a very scary mobster to me. He would threaten to
kill me if I even looked
the wrong way. He
constantly changed his mind about what he wanted and
it was hard to please him or
to get what he
instructed right. He would tell me to do something and
then he would change his mind,
but forget to tell
me. He slapped me to the ground for not doing what I
was told. He set up connections
in Las Vegas and
was in charge of sending me out to targeted
individuals, but he always "wanted a little,"
before he sent me
to have sex with someone else. I remember his visual
image in my mind as a darkcomplexioned
mobster, and he
spoke in that 'kind of mob accent' - broken and
slangish English. He
spoke in different
sing-songy "lines" and I didn't always know what
they meant. He gave me a message
for Bob and
included some phrase about a "donkey's tail" or "elephant's
ears" and, at that time, I didn't
know what the
message meant. Now that I am free of mind control, of
course I can tell what the nature of
the messages were
that were being sent through me, and this one
obviously was referring to the political
parties. He wore a
diamond pinky ring on his left hand. I think wearing
diamond pinky rings on their left
had meant
something, because my father also wore his diamond pinky ring
whenever he took me to
Vegas.
Jimmy the Greek
directed me often in Vegas and set me up with people I
was to be prostituted to.
Of course, the
Council had previously pre-programmed me for use with
the people Jimmy the Greek put
me with. I don't
know how they all knew whom I was going to be with,
but Bob Hope, Henry Kissinger
and the Council
always decided ahead of time. Maybe Jimmy was working
for them in Vegas.
During the late
60's and 70's, lots of big names were in Vegas and I
was prostituted to them at
night. Elvis, Sammy
Davis, Jr., Ed McMahon, Johnny Carson, Jimmy Dean,
and others. My father took
me to Vegas until I
was over twenty-one years old, after that, my
husband and I went without my
parents. Craig
would take me up to the room after a dinner show and
tell me he would be back later, that
he was going down
to gamble. I often begged my husband not to leave me,
but he acted like I was
overreacting and
would leave me anyway. Soon after he left, the men in
suits would come and get me,
and I would be
taken to perform for our controllers.
More About Elvis
...He Was Also A Robot
The Mob and others
had hold of Elvis Presley. Uncle Frank sent me in on
Elvis to perform
"favors." I was
instructed to have sex with him and tell him things
that they wanted him to know or say
in a show or a
song, or to do. If he didn't do as they said, they
threatened or tortured him or "his ole
lady," as he called
her. I didn't know who she was, couldn't think to.
They ruled Elvis and sent me in
before his shows to
instruct him what to say or do during his next
performance. He was usually so out of
it on drugs that he
couldn't "do the sex thing," he'd say, so I would
tell him what to say or whatever the
message was to
deliver to the audience. After that, Elvis would pass
out on the bed, perspiring. He was
handsome, even when
he was like that, until he started gaining all the
weight. Then he looked very
pathetic.
I was used with
Elvis until he died. The last time they sent me in to
be with him he was nearly
unconscious. I
don't know what they did to him but they used him up and
then felt afraid he would
"crack" and spill
what he knew so they kept him drugged until they
couldn't safely use him anymore and
then he "died." Of
course it wasn't an accident or a natural death, he
had a lot of help from his
controllers.
Elvis was targeted
heavily by these men. When I was given messages to
deliver to Elvis or others,
they would inject
my arm with some drug and then unless I had been
pre-programmed, they quickly
whispered the
message into my mind files and sent me off to deliver
them to Elvis. Then Elvis would use
the phrases he was
told as he introduced his songs or in the early days
they might have become a part of
new song lyrics.
Just a single key phrase was enough to keep the
programmed individuals, who later
heard the
introduction or song, under control. Then, many slaves were
"drawn to him," or they did
things as a result
of the effects of the harmonics in his voice, in his
music, and in the orchestration. But
168
at concerts the
messages were often delivered directly through words he
would use to introduce his
songs. He was no
different than Michael Jackson, who replaced him in
many ways. In my opinion, both
were controlled.
My controllers
often gave me the key to his suite and sent me there
late at night with a message to
deliver after sex
with 'The King.' In the beginning, when I was 18, 19,
and 20, he was more receptive and
we had sex, usually
with me on top most of the time and then I would
whisper the message in his ear.
Sometimes the
messages to him were in the form of words from his own
songs, but all the words weren't
there and it would
take on a different meaning. Like, "Wise men say,
only fools rush in," and then there
would be words,
numbers, or codes that I delivered that I didn't even
understand. He was told certain
'lines' to say in
between certain songs and I feel he may have been
keeping many women 'in line' and
programmed by these
phrases. When he slipped the messages in between
songs, as pre-instructed, the
messages went
deeply into the subconscious minds of the audience,
especially to those individuals who
were programmed to
react to universal words that are common to
virtually all high-level, programmed
individuals. They
are simple words that when put into a certain
sequence have a great impact on people
who have been
pre-conditioned with programming.
In his later years,
when I was in my early twenties, Elvis became more
and more 'out of it' when I
went into his
suite. He was always alone when I got there, which
surprised me. He was usually already in
bed asleep and I'd
be given the key to go in and he wouldn't even sit
up or act surprised that I was there.
He was totally out
of it from his addictions to drugs and alcohol.
Elvis had tons of pill bottles on the
nightstand, and
groggily said he needed them all. Sometimes he was even
listless and couldn't have an
erection; any
attempt at sex was futile. So I couldn't always do my job
as instructed, but would give him
the verbal messages
and then slipped out, always "leaving the key
behind with the memories," as my
programming
dictated.
From my experience
I believe Elvis was a puppet, a pawn, and in the
end, totally directed and,
finally, used up by
these men in control of him.
It was my
experience that the images he portrayed on stage were nothing
like how he was in
private. To
demonstrate this, I'll share what I remembered; but, before
I do, I will tell you that retrieving
these memories was
very sensorially uncomfortable, due to the
completeness of the olfactory portion of
the memory. You'll
understand as you read further.
It was late at
night when I entered Elvis's room. He was lying in bed,
still adorned with the gold
jewelry and white
suit he wore in concert. I watched as he finished his
room service dinner and then I
waited while he
threw up in the bathroom. He was very mad at himself
because he was so fat and he said
he had to lose
weight for the shows. I guess he made himself throw up.
All I really know is that I
overheard him
throwing up in the bathroom and when he came back to the
bed, he smelled like vomit. It
wasn't long before
he jumped up again and I followed him as he went
back into the bathroom. He cried
as he stood in
front of the mirror, and hitting the counter with both
hands he screamed, "I hate my life!
Everything's out of
control and now you want me to f--k you and I
can't! I'm ruined! I'm a failure!"
I put my hand on
his back in support and then on the back of his neck.
As he felt my touch, his
head hung down even
further over the sink and he cried, "God, I'm a
mess. I don't know what happened,
just all of a
sudden, I'm destroyed." Then he screamed, "What is wrong?
What is wrong with me!" and he
started pulling his
hair. I pulled him up. When he turned around I
hugged him and he just kept crying
and crying and
almost collapsed in my arms. I guided him back to bed
and helped him lay down. He was
sideways on the bed
but I couldn't get him straightened out so as
programmed, I lay next to him and
rubbed his chest.
His shirt was opened and his very hairy chest turned
me on, but he was passed out. His
mouth was open and
he was breathing but he was totally out of it. I
covered him with the bedspread and
tiptoed out of the
room.
169
My father was
standing outside, just down the hallway. He was wearing a
beige suit and when he
snapped his
fingers, with the hand wearing the diamond pinky ring, I
listened intently to all the
directions he
commanded and he told me to follow him. He guided me
downstairs to my room with
Craig, unlocked and
opened the door and waited for me to get inside
before he hit me high in my back
with a stun gun. I
collapsed to the floor and he pulled the door shut.
He almost slammed me in the door.
I just lay there
awhile and then when, "I came around" (that's what
they called it), I crawled to the
bathroom and
managed to get into the bathtub. The soothing water
revived me but I felt very sick,
drugged and out of
it. I had trouble keeping my eyes open but managed
to get out of the tub, dry and put
on a white nightie
to wear to bed. Slowly and wobbly, I shakily made my
way to the bed and got in next to
Craig. I felt very
sick for the next two days and had trouble eating. I
felt exhausted and very nauseated,
but had no way to
access my own brain in order to know why.
After awhile Elvis
couldn't function any longer. Henry and his buddies
laughed and said that Elvis
was like the tin
man, all rusted up and ready for the junkyard. They
waited for him to become seriously
dysfunctional from
the increasing amount of drugs prescribed by his
doctors. Then they "stopped his
ticker for him so
he didn't have to suffer no more." I think Frank and
his friends were in on the "do in."
Playing Goldilocks
and The Three Bears
Bob called it
"Playing Goldilocks and the Three Bears." And he had me
play that game with him
and his friends in
Vegas and other places. Some nights in Vegas, I'd
play Goldilocks looking for a good
bed with Dean
Martin, Gene Kelly, Mickey Rooney (until Kelly was born).
Mickey Rooney is, among
other things, a
pedophile and was afraid of publicly being caught with
a child but he felt safe having a
slave child. He
thought he wouldn't be caught.
Gene Kelly liked to
do the ole' soft-shoe for me. He always smelled of
a different sort of weird
cologne like Au de
Bamboo. It was spicy and he'd wear a silk robe and
dance around like he was in some
musical play,
before he sat down on the edge of the bed for me to
attend to him. I took off his robe,
kneeled down and
gave him oral sex while he was sitting up. Half way
through I gently pushed him back
on the bed with the
instructions to, "lay back so you can totally relax
and enjoy. That's what my
command is for
you." And as he came in my mouth, I ate it like it was
frosting, as my programming
dictated, "good to
the last drop," and finally I looked deeply in his
eyes and said, "You were delicious."
Nearly asleep he
said, "Thank you, please let yourself out." So I did.
But I didn't know where to go
so I just sat down
on the top of the large staircase leading downstairs.
My mom came to get
me. She walked up the stairs dressed in a light
brown fur jacket and a beige
brown knit dress
with sandled high heels and took me by the hand and
led me downstairs. When I was
really out of it
she led me almost like I was blind. I can remember
hearing her charm bracelet jingling.
She often put my
left arm under hers and "walked me places." One night
Frank Sinatra intercepted her in
an elevator while
she was walking me back to the room, and roughed her
up in front of me, to show us
both who was in
charge. Due to mind control, my mother still doesn't
remember this or any other of the
traumatic
experiences that were done to her in order to keep us all
under control.
More About the Mob
Some of the same
factions of the Mob that were connected to the
Kennedy’s were also connected
to President Nixon,
Reagan and other presidents. Obviously this faction
had become connected to
national politics
long before I came onto the scene and was already in
tight, running a lot of business
through the
government and taking full advantage of political
knowledge, insight, and position. I know
because I ran
messages from the Mob to U. S. presidents and back again
for years.
170
Key Biscayne was
another location where I was connected to the Mob and
was told that there
was no getting out
- or so they said. There was some guy they called
"Freddie" and other mobsters who
were politically
connected. BeBe Rebozo was connected to the Mob and to
Nixon and he was public but
not as
mob-connected as the inner Mob. It was almost like BeBe was an
ambassador to the Mob.
The mob guys scared
me because for the most part they got what they
wanted, any way they
wanted and, often,
that meant hurting me for information. One time they
pinched my fingers to the point
of almost smashing
them. I didn't nor couldn't respond and so they kept
increasing the torture. There
were times when
they nearly killed me trying to gain information I
carried. Usually they lacked the
technical knowledge
of my codes, keys and triggers and didn't possess
the technological sophistication to
understand my
programming. So, they couldn't get as much out of me as
others who knew that I was a
robot and could
access me in that way.
One time when the
Mob was interrogating me they tied me to a chair and
one guy slapped me
while another guy
in a leather jacket asked me questions. I overheard
him say, "These bastards are
selling their own
women. How low can you stoop?" It was incidents like
these which told me that at least
someone, even if it
was the Mob, had some sort of humanity left within
its membership.
One time, mob guys
put a needle into my eye to try to get me to talk,
but it didn't help. The needle
must have hit a
nerve and my whole body jolted back. They couldn't
understand how a woman could
endure so much
torture and they began to 'respect' me. They just didn't
understand that I wasn't really
brave, I just
couldn't respond due to years of conditioning and
sophisticated programming that rendered
me completely
dissociative and not in control of myself. By the time
they figured this out they had
already tortured me
half to death. I was a total robot, programmed not
to respond to pain or torture, and
there were many
mob-connected meetings in which I was involved in
Vegas, Tahoe, Reno, Key Biscayne
and other places.
By the time they understood more about how to get
information from me, my access
routes or codes
ended up getting passed around. My husband just stepped
aside and let them have me,
as he was
programmed to do. There was never anyone to protect me. The
Mob involvement began in my
early teens and
continued for years.
Sometimes when they
would get me into a room in Vegas they would accuse
me of "carrying a
wire" but I wasn't.
They would strip me to check and some goon would
end up raping me. They didn't
understand yet the
level of sophisticated programming that allowed me
to record everything I was
hearing, via mind
files and photographic memory. Later, my programmers
would instill messages that
were to "kick in"
when I was accessed by the Mob. Then, upon my return,
I was activated to deliver a
message to them and
they acted shocked when I would deliver the
message. The Mob often thought I was
trying to get to
some of the rich tycoons that sat at the Baccarat
tables. I was usually sent to target
someone there but
they didn't know who or why. They never seemed to
know that I wasn't ever operating
from my own agenda.
What they had to offer the group I was working for
was minimal. The Council was
going for higher
stakes and most of the time, they saw these mobsters
as worker-bees. But they all had
their places in the
pecking order. Over the years I was known in Vegas
by the Mob there. Some mobsters
were connected to
Bob Hope in Palm Springs and others to Dean Martin
and Frank Sinatra.
I used to be afraid
that they would kill my children or me, but it will
never stop me from doing
what I know is
right, now that I'm no longer under mind control.
Somehow or other they knew
everybody and
controlled factions of business, politics, and people.
Mickey Levinson, said I was "family"
now, after my
brother Rick and his first wife Leslie (Mickey's niece)
were married.
"To be afraid is to
have more faith in evil than in God." -- Emmet Fox
171
Brice Taylor -
Thanks for the Memories
Chapter Seventeen:
The Rat Pack
"Birds of a
feather, flock together..."
I was programmed to
stay thin, tan, and silly, and to act like a
stereotypical dumb blonde. One
warm and beautiful
Southern California summer day, I brushed the Malibu
Beach sand from my bikini
and feet, and
jumped into my car to head down Pacific Coast Highway to
my next assignment. Clad only
in my bikini, a
short white lace cover-up and sandals, I headed into
the Malibu Courthouse. The woman
at the desk waved
me through to the judge's private quarters.
Without hesitation,
I entered the judge's office and climbed into Judge
Merrick's lap - sand,
suntan lotion, and
all. He laughed, sat back, and enjoyed the attention
as I precociously performed my
sexual acts on him.
I satisfied him sexually and left as quickly as I
had arrived. Bob had a joke for me to
say to judges as a
means for variety of orgasmic experiences. When a
judge was orgasming he preprogrammed
me to say, "Here
come the judge, here come the judge," like they said
on Laugh-In, the
popular television
show of the time.
Bob also had me
instilled with top tunes, like a jukebox. I had a
personality system that delivered
impromptu verses
from songs at the perfect time so that they would
cleverly fit into a social situation. I
had personalities
that could sing the songs very closely to the way the
original artists sang them. I knew
the words perfectly
and sang with similar inflections and tones as the
singers. Lots of people thought I
was very adroit
when I cleverly popped a song into a conversation, but
I was really programmed to do
that.
Bob sent me to have
sex with Casey Kasem, the KRLA Disc Jockey. Then
the next day, I had to
listen to his
station all day long because he gave histories and
stories about the singers of the current
popular songs just
before he played their records. Bob said I had to
listen the whole day because it was
important to "keep
my lid on tight." Bob told me to think of myself as
a trash can and that no matter
what, he would
always be there to hold the lid on. He used this trash
can memory-stuffer and scrambler
idea on me for a
long time. My oldest brother, Jim, undoubtedly under
his own programming, was used
to help keep me in
line by having me watch Sesame Street. I was told to
sit down in front of the television
and watch with his
children and if my eyes moved away from the screen
my brother would rap my
knuckles. Watching
the Cookie Monster trash can character in the show
're-minded' me to 'keep the lid
on.'
During this time in
my life, I was finishing up high school, and
although my parents and school
counselors reminded
me that I wasn't college material, I was looking
forward to attending junior college
at Pierce College
in Woodland Hills. Craig and I had been going steady
since we were thirteen years old
and except for a
brief break-up in high school, I did not date any
other boys. Craig prepared to go to the
University of
Colorado. I was completely unaware that secretly laced
into my life was a whole array of
discreetly hidden
sexual rendezvous with men in powerful, yet
diversified, positions.
I was filmed
pornographically in many locations, including Woodland
Hills, Hollywood, Malibu,
Bel Aire, Studio
City, other areas in the San Fernando Valley, and
varied locations all over California. I
also worked for a
short time for Harold Anderson Construction Company
in Bel Aire, but don't
remember exactly
what I did to work for him. I do remember lots of
pornography being filmed at this
stage of my life
and the level of pornographic filming was more
professional. There were themes,
costumes, music,
professional make-up, special props and lighting.
Personalities inside of me were
taught how to work
with the lighting to catch the best poses, and to
move my body so the filming crew
could get the best
shots. Upon completion of the filming, I went home
to my mother and father in
172
Woodland Hills and
later might even go on a date with Craig, fully
believing that I was an innocent,
loyal and loving
girlfriend. Due to the mind control I was under, I had
no way of knowing that I was
leading anything
other than a normal life, as a normal teenager, in a
normal family, in Woodland Hills.
The extensive
contact I had with Bob Hope as a teenager and during my
early 20's showed me that
Bob was much more
than an entertainer. Entertainment was actually just
a clever hobby of his. I
witnessed his
participation as a strategically placed, influential, and
integral part of an underworld group
that secretly
sought to control the world. He had direct ties to the
White House, but not direct phone
lines like Nelson
Rockefeller had. Through my affiliation with Bob
Hope, I was to meet and interact with
many powerful
businessmen, politicians, and celebrities.
I was flown into a
small airport in Palm Springs to be with Bob and his
cronies. I was picked up by
a silver limo and
taken to his house. The men in suits met me and took
me to Bob, wherever he was - at
home, on the golf
course, or in town. Before I was delivered to Bob,
they gave me clothes, shoes, and
jewelry to adorn
myself.
If Bob was in a
meeting or at the club with 'the guys,' he would motion
me over towards him and
say, "Let me have a
look at you honey." He often raised his eyebrows as
if to say I met with his approval
and/or was sexy
enough for him, and then he would pull me to him and
sit me on his lap. He wanted to
show his buddies
that he had what he called "a sweet young thing."
Depending on which crowd we were
with, he would
introduce me as his niece, his budding starlet prodigy,
or his "sweet young thing." Bob
very often
introduced me as his "favorite niece, Sharon Weatherby." I
guess he left people to their own
conclusions. But he
never did refer to me by my own name - NEVER!
I often accompanied
Bob to the golf course in Palm Springs. One day he
was dressed casually, in
light blue slacks,
pastel yellow shirt, white belt and white golf
shoes. There were several other men
golfing with him. I
was there just to serve Bob. I was seventeen or
eighteen, thin, tan, blonde and dressed
in a tiny white
dress with spaghetti straps. I wore white sandals that
came up from my toe and met at a
strap around my
ankle, with a gold heart anklet on my left ankle. Bob
or the men in suits always gave me
everything to wear.
I was not invited to play the golf game, but was
instructed to watch and SMILE! This
particular day Bob
sang to me, as he did at other times when he was
feeling jovial in spirit, "Button up
your overcoat, take
good care of yourself you belong to me." He sang
and joked with me often like I was
able to really
react and respond to him. As a programmed slave, I was
merely compliant and smiled all
the time.
After the golf
game, we all went to the clubhouse and had dinner. A
lady approached with a
camera, attempting
to photograph Bob. The men in suits denied her
access. People often tried to take
pictures but he
directed someone to get the camera and remove the film.
He commented on how rude
people were to
interrupt or to invade his privacy like that. There
usually were not many (if any) people in
places we
frequented, unless it was for a show and then he had
bodyguards to protect him.
At this dinner,
when his male group hit upon a "sensitive" subject, Bob
asked me to go powder my
nose for awhile and
handed me some money. I knew that meant to be gone
for a long while. After what
seemed like "a long
while" had passed, I kept checking back to see if
it was time for him to motion me
back, as was his
custom. Finally, he waved me over to join them and
pulled me onto his lap.
Sometimes Bob met
with men I recognized as Secret Service agents from
seeing them previously
with Richard Nixon
or Ronald Reagan. After these "meetings" we would
often go by limo to a hotel or to
his home when no
one was there. Most of the time his wife, Dolores, was
not at home.
Bob and Dolores
173
On other occasions
when we were with people and he wanted me to leave,
Bob would pat my
bottom and say
good-bye with a smile. Then the men in suits would step
in and get me. Usually I was
taken back to his
house to get ready for an evening event. Bob enjoyed
having people around. He had
parties attended by
lots of famous people. Sometimes I was given as a
gift to one or more of his friends
for the night, but
was programmed to return to his room to sleep.
Unless Dolores was home. Dolores was
not there often,
but when she was, I was usually flown home early.
It was strange the
few times I did see Dolores at a party, knowing that
I was having sex with Bob
and had accompanied
him to different places with his friends and
business associates. I couldn't think to
question what
Dolores thought her husband did!
Bob introduced me
to many of his "famous" friends. At gatherings, with
one arm around me he
would elbow the
guys and say, "Why would I want to be with an ole' bag
like Dolores, when I can have
this?" And his
friends would laugh and nod in agreement.
Although my
programming kept these activities hidden from my conscious
mind, later I would
wake up late in the
mornings in my own bed in Woodland Hills, with
burning, red eyes, feeling totally
exhausted, after
what I thought was a full night's sleep. I was not
able to understand that the exhaustion
was actually caused
by food, water, and sleep deprivation, coupled with
drugs and electroshock for
programming
purposes.
Bob had lots of
security at his home in Palm Springs. The lights on the
outside of his house came
on at night
automatically when a car approached. He also had numerous
security alarms and systems in
the house even a
television monitor like Reagan had at his ranch. When
I arrived, he would sit me on the
bed and he would
sit in the chair and say, "Okay, let me hear it." And
I'd rattle off what Henry Kissinger
told me to tell him.
Bob didn't have all
the sophisticated numerical codes to my mind files
that Henry did. Henry
wanted it that way.
I overheard Henry speak out loud to himself in
front of me, saying, "I want you to be
security safe."
Henry put into my system of reporting personalities
instructions to tell him if Bob tried
anything out of
line. I was instructed to report to Henry if Bob tried
to access information he wasn't
involved in and
wasn't suppose to be privy to. Henry said, "It's none
of his business."
Dolores Hope was
elderly when Bob was fooling around with me; so was
he, since he was nearly
fifty years my
senior. She did not like it when I was around and,
unfortunately, Bob didn't have much of
an excuse for my
presence, unlike Reagan. Reagan could say I was his
secretary or aide, but Bob told his
wife he was
spending lots of time with me to "groom me" for the shows
for the boys.
I can remember
hearing Dolores nagging at him while I was still there
one morning after a party
in Palm Springs. He
lied and told her I was there with some other man
at the party. Not that I did not
have sex frequently
with many of his friends and business associates,
but this time I had not. When
Dolores confronted
him on these issues, Bob would stand behind her, and
like a child, made faces
insinuating she was
going on and on and on and he was bored to tears.
He heard her out, mimicking her
behind her back,
and then we would leave for the golf course together.
But, to her face, he always played
it cool, acted
lovey, and sent her off shopping or vacationing. Bob
called Dolores "dear" a lot. He would
tell her he had to
introduce me to some of his business associates so I
would get to know the ropes. It was
all a front, just a
cover to use me for sex. Although I did meet a lot
of businessmen and friends of Bob's
and I did go with
him, at times, to rehearse for the shows and do the
voice-over tapes for some of the
tours, most of it
was for his sexual pleasure and to show his old
friends that he could still get "the young
stuff."
I certainly was
never there by choice. I was a complete slave, under
total mind control, with no
ability to choose
consciously for myself what or where I wanted to be,
or even to know who I really was! I
174
did not consciously
know that I was being used in these ways. I simply
thought that I was a normal
student and I
continued to carry the belief to my marriage bed that I
was a virgin.
At times, the
entertainer, Phyllis Diller, was at Bob's parties. She
was really loud. She did not
particularly care
for me and just brushed me aside. She was always
joking. Phyllis and Bob came up with
one joke after
another. Once when I was smiling adoringly at Bob, she
yelled at me, "Wipe that smile off
your face." Then
she laughed that real loud laugh, and it frightened
me. Bob told me not to pay attention
to "that ole' bag,"
so I tried not to, but she was so loud it was hard
to ignore her. I tried to avoid Phyllis
Diller's
disapproval at all costs.
At one time, Bob's
bedroom was decorated in a large floral print with
creme-colored background.
He had a wooden bed
frame and nightstands and a large closet. Sometimes
there were fresh flowers
placed in the room
or one on the pillow. Bob usually had a new nightie
waiting on the bed for me to wear
and sometimes there
were satin sheets on the bed. A drawer in his room
was filled with all sorts of sexy
panties, bras,
nighties, and so on, and he said they were there just
for me. He always went to the drawer
and selected what I
was to wear. He also had clothes in the back of his
closet that were just my size. I
don't know who
bought them, but they always fit me. I was usually
programmed to maintain a "perfect
size six," although
there were times I fell below that and wore a size
two or four. My weight was within
99-102 Ibs. in
those days and I was 5' 5" tall. "Young and lovely," he
would say.
Since deprogramming
and speaking out publicly, I've met other
programmed sex slaves who were
also with Bob. Most
likely we were all programmed to be the same size,
and Bob just said the clothes
were for me, but
they were available for a number of his girls. Bob
preferred 18-20 year olds.
Bob had an average
size penis. Sometimes Bob frightened me during sex,
when he got aggressive,
but he never
physically hurt me. He "let" me do everything sexually I
was trained and programmed to do,
but he liked to
orgasm in his own way. Then he would go to sleep. As he
got older, he got meaner and
stranger and
subconsciously I hated him. There was a small metal high
voltage cattle prod that Bob
would insert in my
vagina at times. He used that on me after sex late
at night when we were in bed. After
that it was "lights
out" and I didn't remember anything else.
Bob slapped me at
times, if I got out of line, which was also part of a
program to stay in line. When
I got slapped, I
would switch into a different personality and then I
would be happier, more "congenial"
he would say, and
he would lift my chin and kiss me. Once when he was
mad at me for some infraction of
the rules, Bob
yelled, "You're just a wind up doll - a toy for my
pleasure, and don't forget it!"
Hugh Hefner's
Bob referred to me
in my earlier teenage years as his "little bunny."
He was friends with Hugh
Hefner and Hugh
came to Bob's parties sometimes. He always brought at
least two women with him,
usually blondes.
Starlite was my
personality that Bob named to become his "starlet." He
told Starlite, and other
people when I was
on his "arm," that he was giving me a "leg up" into
the industry. My instructions were
that Starlite was
to wear her hair parted on the side with it combed
down over one eye for a sexy look.
She was to act very
sexy. When Bob took me to parties he would tell
everyone he was showing me the
ropes, that I had
endless talent and potential in the industry.
Bob took me to
several of Hugh Hefner's penthouse parties in Los
Angeles. On one of these
occasions, Bob went
all out on his outfit. He wore a grey suit and
ascot with a white tux shirt and a grey
top hat and white
gloves. He looked 'dapper' but old to me, though his
clothes were perfect - not one
wrinkle. There was
a door panel, with small silver buttons on it that
you had to push in a certain
175
sequence to gain
access to Hefner's penthouse. Bob knew the numerical
code. I watched the perfectly
manicured hand that
stretched out of his clean, neat, white starched
shirt sleeve go out from his black
jacket as he
punched in the sequence.
The elevator up to
Hefner's had mirrors and Bob said, "You look nice
tonight, honey."
"Thanks, Bob." I
replied as he took my elbow from behind and said as he
turned me around,
"Look into the
mirror. You can see yourself over and over and over
again without end. Like a file, we will
slip one out of a
slot or like in the jukebox when one record is
selected. This evening I want to select a
sexy prom girl who
is beautiful, intelligent, and submissive. Sexy is
always the most important quality.
Do you understand?"
After I slowly nodded my head yes, he continued,
"You are to stay close by my side
this evening. There
will be no intermissions so don't ask for any. You
will simply stay close to my side. Is
everything
understood?"
I smiled and said
yes. Next he turned me away from the 'infinity
mirror' used for 'reminding' me
in order to select
from one of my many personalities, and we went
through the elevator door as it opened
moments later.
My dress made
crackling noises as I walked and I had a matching black
cape. When we arrived I
handed my wrap to
the doorman, a tall handsome man in a tux. And he, in
turn, handed it to another
man and replied,
"This is for the lady with Bob."
Holding my cape,
the older doorman looked me in the eye, and bowing his
head said, "Ma'am,"
before leaving with
my cape and Bob's show cane.
Bob took my arm and
guided me over to the fireplace where a zebra
painted girl walked through
the fire without
being burned. Her naked voluptuous body was painted
all over with thick black and
white paint
stripes. The paint gave an appearance of dress but you
could clearly see that she was naked.
She smiled at Bob
and continued dancing in very seductive poses within
a very small area. She had a very
haunting faraway
look in her eyes.
There were windows
all around and at night you could see a breathtaking
panoramic view of all
the pretty
twinkling lights of the city below. They looked like jewels
on a black velvet background. Bob
told me that when I
was "on his arm" for the evening that he was mine,
but at other times he was
someone else's.
The stars liked
their parties because no one gawked at them like fans
did in public places.
Everyone was more
equal and they could enjoy being normal like other
people when they were at ease
with peers.
Hefner's parties were a place where many stars gathered and
shared, a playground for the
stars and their
playmates. It seemed people floated in and out of
Hefner's parties and there were times
when there were not
very many people. From what I saw people didn't
necessarily come there to group
together for the
party. It was more like a place people got stimulated,
wowed, and entertained in order to
have their own
private experiences and fun. Hefner's place was very
modern, full of sharp lines and
angles with lots of
glass, and was some kind of meeting place for the
stars and the wealthy upper class.
Bob got ideas from
Hefner's parties that he used at his own parties in
"the Springs." Bob's parties were
pure class, in the
most exquisite Hollywood style. He had wild parties
and some night's there were
orgies.
Noticing Bob had
arrived, Hugh Hefner came over and shook Bob's hand.
Bob said, "Hal, this is
my main tease ...I
mean main squeeze." They both laughed and Bob leaned
over and whispered
something I
couldn't hear to Hefner. Hefner never stayed around long to
talk with Bob at the parties.
"Bob, it's good to
see you." They shook hands again and Hefner placed
his other hand on Bob's
elbow and said,
"I'll be back, don't go away, I just have to catch her
before she gets away." He seemed to
acknowledge his
guests and then quickly excused himself. In a moment he
returned and said, "Step into
my kitchen."
Bob sneered and
said to him, "I'll follow you anywhere the girls are!"
So we followed Hefner into
the kitchen where
lots of playboy bunnies dressed in traditional black
bunny outfits with black and white
bow ties, fish net
stockings, and black high heels were busy preparing
food trays. Bob's eyebrows raised
and with obvious
sexual emphasis, he called out, "WHAT'S TO EAT!"
176
All the girls
turned around and laughed and looking seductively at him
sang out, almost in
unison, "Hi, Mr.
Hope!" One bunny said, "I'm available!" and she
laughed as she arranged the butter
squares that were
stamped with the playboy insignia.
Bob said, "Well,
maybe you can be course number five, honey. How's
about you and I meeting at
that course."
"Yes," she teased.
Bob looked around
the room, "Any other's?" No one took him up on it but
they smiled cordially.
Bob ushered me back
out to the room where the zebra girl was still
dancing. "She's still at it," he
announced and I
smiled up adoringly at him, just like I was programmed
to do.
Bob took a drink
off a tray that a bunny offered him and when she
offered me a choice of the
different drinks,
per program, I smiled and recited, "No thank you,
I've had my quota for the evening."
Although I'd really
not eaten or drank anything for hours. Bob was good
at taking a drink and then
setting it down
somewhere out of the way like he didn't want anyone to
know he wasn't really drinking.
Later on he'd take
another drink or two, but I rarely saw him drink
much of it before he set it down,
abandoned it and
moved on.
Hugh Hefner had
bizarre, exotic entertainment at his parties ...naked
women painted like animals
...or tamed wild
animals, like lions that were 'whipped into shape' by
a playboy bunny. One time he even
had a man dressed
like Tarzan whipping a playgirl dressed like Jane.
They said the girl was not really
being hurt, that it
was just an illusion. I don't know if that was
true. There were often scenes like that -
magic sex shows.
Bob instructed me
to pay attention, to watch the playboy bunnies so I
could acquire 'bunny skills'
and know some of
the moves for our shows with the troops or get my
edges polished so I'd be poised and
ready for the
Rockefellers. Bob was very impressed with the
Rockefellers. He took me to Hefner's
because he wanted
me to be "bunny trained." Bob placed playboy collars
on me and at other times put a
diamond necklace
round my neck for certain Hope occasions. It was a
single row of diamonds that fit
tightly around my
neck. Bob liked me to wear them in private. He said I
was "in training" and that these
were "training
diamonds." He said that I had better get used to wearing
diamonds because I would be
treated right my
whole life, and sometimes he called me his princess.
Food, drink,
whatever anyone, except me, wanted, was always available
at Hefner's parties.
Champagne fountains
were popular in those days. If someone delivered a
drink - champagne,
wine, etc., to me,
sometimes Bob would let me take it and then he would
quickly whisk it away. Bob told
me to hold my
champagne glass and look pretty and smile but not to sip
it, "Not one little sip," he said.
So I didn't. He
told me, "One itty bitty little sip is all it would
take for your coach to turn into a pumpkin
and your beautiful
dress into rags. We don't want that now do we?" This
reference made to the Disney
classic, tied my
subconscious mind back into the Cinderella programming
that was installed within me
for the purpose of
his and others control.
I smiled sweetly
and said, "No, Bob." I was not allowed to eat or
drink. Bob told me to say that I
had just eaten and
was not hungry.
Hefner was pretty
unavailable at his own parties. I never knew why. One
night, he had the current
centerfold do a
little show for a small group of guests. She had on a
red sequined body suit, red heels and
a feather in her
hair. She danced around and stripped for the guests.
The men loved it and clapped and
said, "encore,
encore..." but she left and didn't return.
There were rooms
people could go into to have sex if they wanted. One
bedroom had a huge four
poster bed with
black satin sheets and comforter. Bob parked me in the
corner of the room while he had
sex with the
playboy bunny he'd propositioned earlier. He did those
kinds of things often. Having sex
with an available
girl at a party and then sex with me later or I'd
just give him oral sex, was not
177
uncommon, depending
on his whim for the evening. Bob got this girl into
bed and kissed and mauled
her and then got on
top and finished her. They seemed to forget that I
was in the room. She had real big
firm breasts, and
Bob always really liked those who were as he called
it, "fully endowed." After they
finished they got
out of bed and Bob kissed her hand and she got
dressed and left, closing the big wooden
double doors behind
her. Bob motioned for me to come over to him and I
picked his clothes up off the
floor and began
redressing him. He always loved that game. I held his
boxers as he put first one leg in
and then the other.
While I helped him he said, "I don't know what I'd
do without ya kid." I smiled
lovingly as
programmed and retrieved his shirt and helped him on with
it. The buttons were difficult and
he said, "Whew, it
took a lot less to 'get it on' than it seemed to
getting it off!" And then he'd laugh at his
own sexual joke.
Bob said, "Sex is a
state of mind. A state of mine I'd like to live
in!" I knelt down and put his socks
and shoes back on,
combed his hair and we reemerged together and joined
the party. I didn't know most
of the people.
Bob said to a
heavyset man in a tux who I also didn't recognize, "This
one's mine."
"It's a pleasure to
meet you, sir." I said smiling.
Quickly, Bob
quipped, "She was trained at the Gloria Swanson School of
Manners." And everyone
around including
the man laughed. The man took my hand politely but he
was also laughing. I always
thought people were
laughing at me because I was stupid, I wasn't able
to be aware that they were
laughing at Bob's
jokes. I never could "get" the jokes, because I was
programmed not to be able to think
about them.
If nothing was
available to him sexually Bob would take me to a hotel
or we went home and had
sex. He always
scored, either way.
At another Hefner
party, when we arrived, Bob said to Hefner, "Look who
followed me home."
Hefner said, "Not
bad Bob, not bad. Hey, tell me, where were you
walking? Are there any more
like her?"
Bob said, "No they
broke the mold after they made this one."
Hefner laughed and
they shook hands again. He used both of his hands in
his handshake with
Bob. He reached out
in a regular handshake and then put his other hand
on top. In keeping with his
usual routine, Hugh
Hefner said, "Excuse me Bob, I have some important
matters to attend to. You and
your lady enjoy.
That's what it's all about here." And he winked and
walked away.
Tarzan and Jane and
a lion were at this party. The Tarzan guy had heavy
make-up that made him
look tan and he had
blonde hair and a beautiful body. So did Jane. The
lion was very small. I was allowed
to touch him and
the tan fur on its back was so neat it looked like it
had been evenly shaved. Suddenly,
the lion turned
around and opened his mouth and it really scared me! He
had big teeth. Bob laughed at
my reaction and
said, "Honey, maybe you'd like to have one of these at
home. Lions and tigers and bears,
oh my!" And as he
cleverly weaved in a line to 'remind' me of my Wizard
of Oz programming, he laughed
again and so did
the people who were standing around. Little did they
know that Bob Hope had just
masterfully
delivered one of the program phrases intended to keep me
from remembering the life I was
living, serving him
as a total mind-controlled sex slave.
Later at the party
there was a huge square-tiled shower with clear
glass sides and several nozzles.
Lots of men and
women all got in it at the same time and rubbed soap
all over themselves and then
rubbed up against
each other and it ended in a huge orgy. Personally,
Bob liked more of the one-on-one
stuff, but liked to
watch me be involved with groups, or to watch
individual couples have sex.
Sometimes someone
from the Council pre-programmed me to deliver a
message to some
entertainer or
celebrity at a party they knew I was going to attend. I
don't think Bob even knew some of
the messages I was
delivering. I was instructed to hold the message
until I had gotten "in" on the
targeted person and
then after I had made eye contact and had their
full attention, I was to carefully
"drop the message"
always maintaining eye contact.
178
I was usually very
quiet, and when I would deliver these Council
messages, Bob was not always
aware I was going
to speak. He was often caught off guard and would
joke about loving to be with me
because he never
knew what would come out of my mouth from one minute
to the next. He told people
that I had natural
wit, but I was really programmed by others to
deliver clever messages, tailor-made for
certain select
individuals.
At one of Hefner's
parties, Bob had me wear a black, form-fitting, long
slinky, strapless and lowcut
evening gown. A
white flower was pinned over my left breast. I carried
a black clutch and wore black
high heels. We
arrived at the party in one of Bob's limos. The limo
drivers always waited for us in case
Bob wanted to leave
at any time. Sometimes Bob would take me to the car
for sex during the party or for
a "little talk"
about my behavior or about what to watch for or
remember. He liked to do spankings when
I was naughty and
he would make me pull up my dress and lay naked over
his lap to be spanked. I was
trained for that to
be a "turn on" and when this happened, he got real
turned on and the sex was better
for him.
At the parties we
attended at Hefner's, the men did not usually show up
with their wives. The
nights I was there,
it seemed like there was an unspoken rule that
wives were not allowed, as if it was
their exclusive
'men's club' where repeat women were occasional, but no
wives allowed. The rooms were
often smoky and
loud and the people, especially the women, were so made
up they looked plastic.
At one party, Bob
took me into a back bedroom where a playboy bunny was
supposed to "teach
me some things."
She lay naked on a white fur rug and touched herself
all over in front of Bob and me.
Bob stooped down
and told me to quietly and gently step into her world.
The two of us were touching
each other while
Bob said, "What a thing of beauty you both are, like a
piece of beautiful artwork."
The playboy bunny
took off my dress and began performing oral sex on me
while Bob watched. I
am not sure exactly
what I "learned," but from then on, I had lots of
playboy bunny costumes - bunny
collars, feathers
to wear on my bottom, and high heel shoes to match. I
ended up "treating" many men at
Bob's parties to
things I had "learned."
Sometimes I danced,
too. I think lots of things may have been filmed
without my knowledge. They
used dancing often
in pornography. Bob would snap his finger when it
was all over and I was to "snap
out of it," get up
and go home with him or do something else. Some
parts of me wanted my mom to help
me, or get me out
of there, but she never could.
Bob would put a
playboy collar around my neck and say, "Is this your
necklace or your collar?" I
was programmed to
respond to wearing those collars. When the bunny
collar was on, out came Starlite
the sexy show girl
personality. Sometimes Bob would put the collar on
me at his home, "just for the fun
of it," he would
say. The diamond collars or necklaces were reserved
for use with the Presidents and
other higher-ups.
When it was time to
leave, Bob got our coats from the butler and we
left. Two younger handsome
men, in suits, who
were buff and looked sort of like Secret Service
agents, followed directly behind us
and stayed with us
until we entered the black limo that picked us up
out front. It seemed like they were
guarding Bob until
we got to the safety of the limo. Somehow the limo
drivers were always there or close
by and immediately
brought the car around when Bob appeared. Once in
the limo Bob would ask me for
a foot or neck rub
or oral sex and, as programmed, I complied. This
night he asked for a foot massage.
"Golden foot
award," Bob said. "Maybe I could manage to win the golden
foot award since I can't ever
seem to manage a
whole Oscar," he said, laughing at his own joke.
Dean Martin
179
I was usually one
of the youngest girls at the parties and most of the
men were pretty old. Dean
Martin was at a
party one night and he was drunk. He wanted me to sit
on his lap. Looking over at Bob
slyly, Dean said,
"Come on Bob, share some of your pretty young stuff."
I looked to Bob for
direction and he answered, "Okay," smiling broadly
at his friend. Shyly, I went
over and sat on
Dean Martin's lap. All eyes in the room were now on
Dean. He took one of the straps
from my dress down
as everyone cheered him on. I looked over at Bob,
feeling shy and scared but
smiling, as my
programming dictated.
Then Dean took the
other strap down, pulled my dress down, and grabbed
my breast. With each
move he made he
slowly turned to Bob, asking for permission, "Bob, can
I take her bra off?"
"Yes," Bob said
with a sly smile on his face as everyone continued to
cheer.
"Bob, can I put one
of her breasts in my mouth?" And as Bob gave his
permission, Dean put his
drink and cigarette
down and leaned over to suck on my breast. He stunk
like hard liquor. His eyes were
all bloodshot and
he spoke slowly and slurred. He scared me because I
didn't know if he would hurt me.
Then he asked Bob
if he could remove my dress to which Bob replied,
"Yes," while the group hailed him
again.
After removing my
dress, Dean asked, "Bob, can I remove her panties?"
Bob said it was all
right with him and so Dean took off my panties and
laid me over a table and
began sticking his
finger in me. I was moving all around and making
sexual noises, like I had been
trained to do. All
the people watching were getting turned on and it
started group sex.
When Dean was
finished, Bob came over to "rescue me," took me to the
bathroom, slipped me
into the shower and
told me to get dressed, that we were going home to
our own private party, now that
Dean had warmed me
up.
Later that evening
a man I didn't know approached us and said, "Bob,
you must tell me your
secret. You must
have something you're not telling about if you can
attract the attentions of a pretty
young girl like
this. So tell me... what's your secret?"
Bob looked snidely
at him and said, "Geritol." And then he laughed and
said, "You don't think I'd
tell you my secret
do you? Then it wouldn't be a secret any longer and
you'd be getting the pretty young
stuff instead of
me." And then they both laughed but the man still
seemed very curious, like he wondered
how Bob did it.
"Is he paying you
large sums of money?" the man asked me.
"No, sir, it's a
pleasure just to be with Bob," I smiled, looking
adoringly up to Bob like I was
programmed to do.
The man shook his
head and said, "Well it's been a pleasure to see you
again Bob and to meet you
Miss ...what did
you say her name was?"
"Weatherby . . .
Sharon Weatherby."
And the man smiled
and said, "A pleasure," and walked away. The more
that I attracted the
attention of other
men, the more Bob wanted me sexually that night.
Frank Sinatra
Bob Hope and Frank
Sinatra played golf together. When I was with them
on the course, Bob told
me to call Frank
Sinatra, "Uncle Frank" or "Uncle Frankie." Over the
years, "Uncle Frankie," would show
up as Bob's
representative, 'the heavy,' to get me 'back in line.' He
seemed to just appear at a place I was
taken to and would
let me see him and then quickly leave. Just the
sight of him was terrifying because of
the violent
experiences I had with him from the time I was a teenager
on. Frank Sinatra was connected
high up in the Mob
- very high up.
Uncle Frankie
displayed some Catholic behaviors and used Catholic
jargon and seemed sincere as
when he talked
about his love for his family and country, but his
actions were never supportive of what
he espoused to
believe. He arranged, easily and with no remorse, many
peoples' deaths, sometimes
explaining to the
hit men exactly how he wanted it done-at times while
he was having sex with me. He
once told this guy
to dismember this man and throw his arm to the
sharks. "Let the man stay alive to
180
watch the shark eat
his arm and then do likewise with his leg, but make
sure he is still alive and
watching so you
guys will have to do it quickly. Use a chain saw for
all I care and tell the bastard his
whole body will be
next and that his arm and leg were just appetizers
for the sharks." I was horrified but
knew better than to
even acknowledge I heard anything, so I smiled and
acted like I wasn't even listening
and went to
sexually satisfy him to insure my safety. Frank said, "Wait
a minute doll, I have to attend to
business first." So
I lay there and waited, running my hands in short
little nervous motions all over his
chest.
After the hit man
left, Frank started biting me all over and acted like
he was in a good mood and
was playing with
me. But I will tell you he thought nothing of having
someone killed and there were
times I overheard
him ask for a personal item of the persons returned
to him for assurance that the job
had been done. One
time he threw a ring from a man he'd had killed into
a waterway. The water was
flowing fast and he
told me the ring would be swept far away from where
he had originally dumped it. I
just smiled and
took his hand. I was always trying to please him in
order to stay alive.
Bing Crosby
One Christmas, Bob
gave me as a surprise sexual present to his good
friend and peer, Bing Crosby.
Bing had just
finished the taping of his Christmas show. Bob had me
installed and waiting in a closet in
Bing's dressing
room and I was instructed to, "Stand there like a
mannequin, without moving until Bing
opens the door."
Bob put me into a 'stay stiff like a mannequin'
instruction mode and wrapped me with a
huge red ribbon and
bow. Otherwise I was totally naked. A card was
attached to the ribbon. Bob
instructed me to
"stay put," until Bing opened the closet.
As he closed the
closet door on me, Bob said, "You'll be okay."
When Bing opened
the closet to get a change of clothes, there I was,
totally naked, clad in a red
ribbon and holding
a greeting card. Bing started laughing and read a
portion of the card out loud, "a f--k
me doll??!" And he
laughed and laughed. He laughed so hard he bent over
and held his stomach.
Bing took off his
tux and put his jacket over the back of the chair,
laid the rest of his clothes on the
seat and stood
there wearing only his black top hat, shoes and socks.
He had on the kind of socks that
had black elastic
holding them up. He kept watching me, never taking
his eyes off me while he was
changing his
clothes. He seemed excited about this gift, but he also
seemed apprehensive.
There were
instructions on the card; I know, because he laid it down
and I read and retained it in
my photographic
memory. It said, "This lovely young lady is yours for
the evening. You can't wear her
down. She will
please you in every way imaginable. You have only to
reach out, take her left hand,
squeeze it and say,
'Come on honey, we're going home.' Oh, by the way,
put a raincoat on her while
you're in
transport, she didn't come with clothes."
So Bing took my
hand and led me out of the closet. He acted like I
would break or wake up or
something. He
treated me like I wasn't real. He was very cautious at
first.
Bing and I got into
a waiting limo and went to a penthouse apartment,
"to unwind," Bing said. It
was his home away
from home, a safe place, he said, like in the song
"up on the roof." He sang and
danced a little and
I sat on the bed and watched him. He sang some old
song that I had never heard of
and he looked
ancient but always had a smile on his face. It seemed
like he danced out of nervousness, of
not knowing quite
what to do.
He never looked
away from me for a minute. Then he came over, undid the
tie on my raincoat and
slowly undid the
buttons. I was barefoot and my feet were purple and
cold. He pulled down the bed
covers and I
climbed in, and he began touching me, still with his own
clothes on, when the phone rang.
He put the receiver
aside while the person was talking on the other
end. He laughed kind of awkwardly
and whispered to
me, "Just last minute instructions from Bob!"
Bing hung up and
said, as if I could not hear or comprehend, "Bob said
to rub here in circular
motions to turn you
on to HOT!" He began rubbing circular motions
around my belly button, activating
my sexual passion
touch programs, and I began to do the programmed
"ohhhhhh" moans and he got an
181
erection after
hearing that and pulled off his pants while he was still
rubbing. It was as if he perceived
me as a robot and
was afraid of not knowing how to work me ...afraid
something might go wrong.
I went into my
dancing mode on the bed and took off the rest of his
clothes. I did like Bob had
instructed me,
"Tell him you're dreaming of a White Christmas and then
wink." Once I had delivered
that, I performed
oral sex and rubbed him all over. Then I climbed on
top of him and satisfied him
sexually. He'd had
a drink in the limo that mixed with his cologne, and
he smelled like alcohol. After we
were through, he
went right to sleep. I curled up beside him and fell
asleep, too. Maybe all this was to
make sure he had
that White Christmas he was dreaming of.
Sometime later, the
phone rang and woke us up. He got dressed, put me
back into the raincoat
and escorted me
down the elevator to a waiting limo. He stayed and I
left in the limo and was not taken
back to Bob's but
instead was taken to the airport and flown home. The
limo driver gave me clothes to
put on, and when I
got on the airplane I slept the whole flight home,
like I was always programmed to do.
You Can Sleep All
the Way Home
My programmed
mother picked me up at LAX Airport and handed me a brown
paper bag with my
own clothes in it.
I robotically went into the airport bathroom,
changed into my own clothes, and went
out to my mother,
who simply said, "We're going home, honey. You can
sleep all the way home."
I slept all the way
home in the car. When we arrived at the house, I
crawled into my own bed and
buried all memory
of this occasion, like all others before it, deep
into my subconscious mind, as my
programming
commanded.
If it was nighttime
when I returned, I was instructed to wash away all
remembrances of the
evening with a
nighttime bath. The hypnotic command embedded in my
programmed mind was, "All
that happened will
go down the drain with the water and will be
forgotten and gone forever." Then, I
could go to sleep.
If for some reason I didn't have time for a bath
before I left Bob's to return to
Woodland Hills, I
was instructed to take one at home before I went to
bed and it had the same amnesiac
effect.
In those days, I
felt very tired most of the time. Some days I had to
go to high school the next day
or, later on, to
college, and woke up with my eyes burning and my
make-up still on from the night before.
My mother always
had trouble waking me in the mornings. There were
times she or my father would
pour water over my
head in an attempt to wake me. On weekends, I was
allowed to sleep until 11 or 12
o'clock if I
wanted. I could never figure out why I was always so
exhausted. Now I know why.
During my high
school years, Bob said he was training me to be a
starlet, but he was really
training me to
privately entertain his rich political and celebrity
friends, or the troops.
It was during these
early years that I began being heavily accessed and
programmed by the
Council, for use
with many influential men and women in positions of
power. My use within government
circles was
guaranteed to be security proof due to the mind control I
was under. They felt my
programming kept
the information I carried from my own awareness and
from access by others who did
not know the keys
and codes to my system. But what those in government
did not seem to know was that
the Council also
had the ability to access me. They were secretly
slipping in their own psychologically
tested and
carefully researched messages for me to deliver to
presidents, governors, senators, foreign
leaders,
entertainers, and many other people who were in positions of
power or public influence.
The Council studied
people's profiles and knew exactly what their likes
and dislikes were, their
sexual preferences,
and any other information that could be used to
influence people in ways the person
was never even
aware of. The Council pre-programmed me with
instructions, all based on careful prior
research of the
targeted person... what to wear, how to act, what type
of sexual stance to take, specific
182
words or phrases to
say, and the best time to deliver them. The Council
always worked up a complete
strategy and never
sent me to a targeted person unprepared.
In these ways, they
influenced government leaders to act in their own
favor, to pass or veto laws
or bills that
benefited their corporate holdings, to bring into office
those people who could be used as
pawns, to influence
judges and government agencies, to enlist large
sums of monies, and to control
people in all walks
of life.
My experience was
that the Council was publicly nameless and unknown,
and this anonymity is
what made it
possible for them to wield power over the masses. From my
perspective, these individuals
acting in the
shadows actually dictated in a subversive and
inconspicuous manner the direction our
government took at
the time. They were connected to powerful people
like Bob Hope, through me as
their secret
liaison, though I was programmed not to be aware of it.
They felt they had their identities
and security locked
up tight.
"Command those who
are rich in this present world not to be arrogant
nor to put their hope in
wealth, which is so
uncertain, but to put their hope in God, who richly
provides us with everything for
our enjoyment." --
I Timothy 6:17
183
Brice Taylor -
Thanks for the Memories
Chapter Eighteen:
Gerald Ford
I called Ford,
"Henry," trying to joke with him so he wouldn't be so
brutal but he usually was
anyway, despite my
attempts at humor. Ford began with me early, as he
liked young girls. He was into
fantasies and often
liked for me to wear an eye mask. We had sex often,
especially during the time
Reagan was Governor
of California. He liked violent sex-tying me up,
handcuffs, spankings, slapping,
and all that kind
of S&M stuff. He enjoyed the whips and chains
routine, and liked to tie me up with thick
black leather
straps. He slapped me frequently. Often after he
satisfied himself sexually with me, blood
would drip down my
legs. It was so painful that I felt like I was not
only splitting in my rectum or vagina,
but the
excruciating pain exploded up into my head and out my arms and
fingertips. Gerald Ford
required violent
sex in order to orgasm. He joked about needing, "the
chain gig in order to get off." His
jokes were very
crude. He was in politics a long time and often
traveled in political circles. He was "one
of the good old
boys" and had major Mob connections. He wore his own
gun in a shoulder holster and
was afraid for me
to remove it. "I don't trust you with the gun," he
said and he laughed. He was a short
President and
pretty hairy. While he was violent sexually he still was
not as brutal as Ted Kennedy.
Ford wore nice
clothes, silk shorts and good quality suits, and he was
very proud of them. For
some reason, these
mob guys were into expensive, quality clothes. I
don't know why that was, but image
was very important
to them. There was lots of mob involvement when
Nixon was President and Ford was
Vice President, and
it didn't stop when Nixon stepped down. Same mob
involvement, just a few different
players who were
close friends of Jerry. Ford had more mob
organizations behind him than Nixon did,
so he had lots of
people to give favors to when he was in the White
House. He was very corrupt. He had
to be in a
wheelchair briefly for something. I don't know what happened
but they managed to keep it
hushed up. He had a
bandage like he'd been shot or wounded or operated
on. I don't know exactly what
happened, but I
felt a little safer when he was in the wheelchair.
Unfortunately, he wasn't in it long
enough to suit my
needs.
Ford didn't treat
me like I was real. He often hurt me and was
convinced that I was just a machine
built for his
pleasure. It was true that I was a non-thinking slave
that obeyed every command, but it did
register within me
when I was abused and treated cruelly.
During the time he
was Vice President, I remember him attending a
ribbon-cutting ceremony.
There was a
beautiful white gazebo on a large lawn and he was there to
cut the yellow ribbon. Gerald
Ford participated
in many of these grand openings. He was booked into
these types of public
appearances in
order to enhance his image as a 'good citizen.' But, in
my opinion, he was not. Anyway, he
cut the ribbon with
a large pair of scissors and then the crowd clapped
and cheered and reporters took
his picture. Soon
he got into a black limo, where I was waiting in the
back, and was driven away. I was
placed there to
deliver a message to him from the Council. Then, I had
to get down on my knees in the
back of the limo,
unzip his pants and give him oral sex. He held onto a
stun gun in his left hand the
whole time. Just
before he orgasmed I climbed on top of him and moved
around until he came, after
which he activated
the stun gun near my tailbone.
He made a bunch of
jokes about my name being the same as his
daughter's. Like, "You're not
supposed to f--k
kin," or "That was great Susan Ford." Correcting him,
a Secret Service agent said,
"You're not suppose
to ever use her name, Sir."
Ford smiled
maliciously and said, "It's my name, too, and I'll use it
whenever I please." He never
liked to be
corrected or told what to do. Henry Kissinger got angry
with him about that, also.
Bob Hope played
golf all over the world with his friend, "Jerry Ford."
That's what Bob called him.
Ford was a much
better golfer than Bob, but Bob always shrugged it off
and said, "I just had a bad day
184
today." He said
that often. The Secret Service stayed close, but let
them have their space and they
usually played when
there weren't other people on the course. When Ford
was Vice President and Bob
would talk about
Nixon or other political agendas, when the talk got
heavy Bob would look over to me,
point to the cart,
and say, "Hey honey, take five," and I'd wait to be
called back. Bob said they got very
important work done
on the course, sometimes more so than what went on
during regular work routines.
One time, "Jerry,"
as Bob always called him, had on a Nixon watch. The
round watch had a red,
white, and blue
band and a picture of Nixon in the middle. It was a
caricature; not his real picture and
Ford said he looked
"kinda stupid." Calling Bob over, Jerry lifted his
sleeve to show him the watch and I
overheard him say,
"This asshole doesn't know the time of day," and he
took the watch off, threw in on
the green and
stomped it with his foot.
With a subtle
nervous sort of laugh, Bob said, "You're very serious
about this I can see." Bob liked
to play it cool
with all the politicians, especially presidents. He had
a rule about not making negative
comments to one
politician putting down another. He said, "It is only
diplomacy, which is essential in
this business."
I was required to
have sex with Ford as Nixon's Vice President and as
President, but not ever as
much as I did with
Nixon or Reagan. I had sex with Ford as VP when he
and Nixon were in different
locations. Bush and
Reagan appeared at places together occasionally,
but Nixon and Ford never did that
I was aware of.
Henry Kissinger stayed connected to Ford, but at more
of a distance after Nixon stepped
down. Ford had
connections all over the place. When Nixon stepped down
Ford was right there--
grinning like a
shark waiting for the spoils--he and his mob buddies
loved the opportunity to run the
country from their
perspective. I heard one of them say that at a
private meeting. I was present at that
meeting with
directions to have sex with Ford and give him a Council
message after sex.
I went along with
Bob on golfing trips to caddy for him at times when
he golfed with different
presidents. He
jokingly called me, "Katie the Caddy." Bob used me as a
caddy so that no one could hear
the sensitive
nature of the conversations he had with prominent people.
He often assured his guest at the
club that I was
unable to think, that I was retarded and that most
anything. could be said in front of me
and I wouldn't
understand. He played me for a retarded person, at
times, but other people knew I was
really just a
robot. Anyway, I had to hand Bob the correct golf club
and I was instructed to anticipate his
every need. I knew
which club he preferred at each hole. I never was
allowed to make a mistake and he
would always wink
at me just before he would swing. He whispered in my
ear that it was just for luck. He
said I was his good
luck charm. He said that often to me in Vegas, too.
In Las Vegas he would want me to
hold onto his arm
while he shot the dice or played Baccarat. Bob's
attitude was much different after the
game, if he lost.
When he won he was in a great mood and would be happy
and acted like he was real hot.
I handed Jerry's
clubs to him also, but when I did, I'd smile and say,
"Mr. President, Sir, how
about this one?" He
occasionally smoked a small white tipped cigar on
the green and had me hold it for
him while he swung.
Once while I was
holding Jerry's cigar, Bob said to me, "Hey be careful
with those magic hands of
yours." Sex was
always on his mind.
When I handed the
club to Bob he would say, "I like that choice honey,
let's give her a try." And if
he'd miss a shot or
screw up he'd blame it on a bad choice of the club
or iron I selected. To cover himself,
he'd say, "Let's
use a seven iron on that next shot, I think it'll be a
better choice for the condition of this
green." I also got
down, put the tees in the ground and set the ball up
for Bob and his friends if they
wanted or needed
it, unless they had their own caddy. The golf course
in Palm Springs had a lot of sand
on the course.
Bob provided a
visor for me to wear on the green and often slapped my
bottom and said things
like, "I just like
to remind myself what's up for later." Other times
he'd have me dressed in those little
185
pleated short
skirts with the little panties attached. During the
course of the afternoon when Bob
would stick his
head under my skirt, I'd just smile brainlessly and do
a 'Tommy Smothers act' and
everyone would
always laugh. Or, he'd pull my skirt up and mess around
with it, showing everyone what
he was finding,
like the fact that the panties were sewn to the skirt
and everyone thought it was so funny.
He used me like a
sideshow act and told people, "she's the butt of my
jokes!"
Often after they
finished the course, I had to give Ford oral sex or
he'd have sex with me usually
standing up
backwards. This was extremely painful because of the
thickness of his erection, and I could
hardly walk later
and I often bled afterwards; but he liked best to sit
down and receive oral sex. It was
always quite a
mouthful with him and he'd ram it down my throat by
pushing my head down real hard
on him. Ford once
said, "This is the best part of the game." When he
was finished with me my mouth
often cracked and
bled. Sometimes I did it in the back of a limo or in
a side room at the golf course.
Other times Bob
would take Ford back to his house and tell him, "Enjoy
her." And, he'd leave me
alone by the pool
with Ford or in a bedroom. When Ford was finished,
he'd just leave me abruptly. Then
I'd just sit and
stare straight ahead waiting for Bob to tell me what
to do next.
After I had
children, Ford teased me that he may have been the father
of my child and he would
ask me, "How's
junior?" He was responsible for a lot of the mob
violence that happened to me during the
mid to late 70's.
He always wanted to insure that I was 'contained,' so
he even had his mob buddies come
to my home to rough
up my children and me.
I was required to
have sex with Gerald Ford on Thanksgiving Holidays at
Big Bear and Big Sur.
One holiday he
jokingly said to Bob, "This is one of the things I am
most thankful for," and they both
laughed. Most of
what I "thought" were our family vacations were
actually times I spent servicing men
from all over.
"When you did it to
the least of my brethren, you did it to me." --
Matt. 25:40
186
Brice Taylor -
Thanks for the Memories, pp 155-157
Chapter Nineteen:
My Programmed Marriage – We’ve
Only Just Begun
In my "conscious
and public life" I entered junior college at Pierce
College in Woodland Hills, just
after my High
School graduation in February of 1969. 1 worked toward a
degree in psychology. Craig's
family felt it
would be good for him to go away for college so he left
for the University of Colorado at
Boulder and lasted
there for a year. His grades were poor and we ended
up spending all of our money on
postage and plane
fares to visit each other.
After Craig's
return to California, he began attending Valley State
College, which is now California
State University at
Northridge, with his eye on an eventual degree in
dentistry. I worked a four-day week
as a dental
assistant for a Woodland Hills orthodontist named Michel N.
Jacoby, D.D.S.
Craig proposed
marriage in August of 1970, offering me a ring he worked
a couple of years to pay
for. Our plans were
to be married one year later on August 21, 1971.
Due to the mind control and crossprogramming
we were both under,
we had no way of knowing that our marriage plans
were not really
our own. Following
the secret plan, my father offered two options.
Option one was to have a big wedding.
Option two was to
forgo the large wedding and, instead, take the money
and use it on a lavish
honeymoon in Hawaii.
Being a romantic
and somewhat traditional with my Christian upbringing,
I chose the large
church wedding and
reception. Craig and I were both surprised when my
father informed us that he
decided to give us
the Hawaiian honeymoon, as well. He arranged an
appointment for us to meet with
his travel agent
and the agent booked us a special package deal that
would take us to several of the
Hawaiian Islands.
On August 21, 1971,
Reverend McKelvey, who at that time had quit being
a minister and was
selling real
estate, married us at the First Presbyterian Church of
Encino. Two hundred and fifty people
were in attendance.
After I walked up the isle on my father's arm, the
organist played the song, You'll
Never Walk Alone,
which was a subconscious message to me that I would
always be controlled. I cried
during the entire
ceremony but when asked, could offer little
explanation as to why. My parents went all
out on a sit down
dinner reception that was held poolside in our newly
re-landscaped backyard in
Woodland Hills.
In order to keep
our secret life concealed, Craig and I were also
forced to participate in a separate
'black wedding'
that took place before our white wedding. I had to wear
a long black dress and a black
veil and Craig wore
all black including a black shirt with his black
suit. It took place outdoors in a park
late at night.
Reverend McKelvey wore a black robe and married us in
this ceremony, also.
But my secret
hidden life would not and did not go away. In fact, it
continued to exist even on our
honeymoon. Of
course, the reality of these secret events was kept
carefully away from my husband's and
my conscious
awareness by very powerful programming.
One of the first
nights we were in Hawaii, my newlywed husband took me
to see Don Ho. Craig
and I dressed for
the evening and arrived in time for the dinner show.
Don Ho appeared on stage, took
the microphone in
hand, and in his smooth modulated voice, sang Tiny
Bubbles. When he was through
he asked if there
were any newlyweds in the audience. My handsome new
husband proudly waved his
hand in the air as
he put his other arm around me and gave me a big
hug. Don Ho congratulated us and
requested the
waiter bring a special bottle of champagne to our table.
The bottle of champagne was a
trigger for me to
switch into another personality and Craig touched his
watch as if adjusting it and that
was to trigger and
cue me. From then on, I acted from a totally
unconscious programmed state. The next
187
thing I knew Craig
took me backstage to Don Ho's dressing room where,
initially, there was some
kind of drug
transaction.
Next Don Ho took my
hand and said to Craig, "Don't run away so fast.
You don't think I am going
to let a pretty
California thing like this slip through my fingers." He
looked directly at Craig. Craig
stepped back and
Don Ho took me by the hand to another room. Craig
followed us. Don Ho ushered me
inside, stuck his
head back out the door and said to my husband, "You
don't mind sharing your beautiful
young bride with me
do you?"
My bridegroom
looked to the ground and said, "No, Sir." Craig looked
nervous and agitated, but
smiled.
"That's the way I
like it - real easy." Don Ho said as he shut the door
behind us.
He told me he
wanted me to struggle, so it would be like a rape. "You
would really like me to rape
you though wouldn't
you. You really enjoy being f----d. Or are you a
virgin ...come for me to initiate?" As
directed, I ran
around the room, escaping his advances until he grabbed
me and unzipped the back of my
dress. He slipped
it off, took off my sandals and said he would go real
slowly taking off the rest and that
he had a particular
liking for pretty bras and panties.
Don Ho laid me on a
large couch and began kissing me and then he
slapped me and kissed me
again. He was
really strange. First he was gentle and then the next
minute violent. He had been drinking
and after he took
my bra and panties off he said he needed to "powder
his face," and he snorted a line of
cocaine. He came
over and kneeled on one knee and started having sex
with me. He said he loved tight
women and he
satisfied himself with me fairly quickly but never did
take off his pants, just his shirt.
When he was
finished with me, I went back out to Craig and Do Ho stayed
in the room. Craig took
me back to our
hotel room.
The rest of our
honeymoon we went to several other Hawaiian Islands
including Maui. I was used
sexually by other
political people on other islands.
When we returned
from our "honeymoon" we moved into an apartment on
Parthenia Avenue in
Canoga Park,
California. I continued working four days a week for Dr.
Jacoby and Craig continued his
studies as a
pre-med major to become a dentist. Sliced into my
'expanded' duties as dental assistant,
were 'special
assignments' that began when a suited man, posing as a
drug company salesman, delivered
tiny implants that
I was programmed to cement into the braces of
certain 'select' young patients. Most
often, they were
beautiful young girls. One day, as another dental
assistant and I were busily cementing a
band on a
particularly beautiful 10 year old girl, whose father was an
affluent, prominent USC dental
professional in the
community, I was repulsed when I ran my dental
instrument around her tooth and
came up with a
pubic hair. My assistant and I looked at each other in
horror and, although I was under
mind control, the
obvious connections were made.
In 1973, Craig and
I moved to Agoura Hills and my parents gave us a
down payment to buy a
condominium on
Oakpath Drive. It wasn't long until my parents sold
their home in Woodland Hills and
moved down the
street from us. They were always close by.
I was still
accessed and used with Nixon, Reagan, Kissinger, Bob Hope
and others, as well as in
various
experimental projects (including dental implant
experimentation) and filmed in porn in many
locations in
California, especially Studio City and Bel Aire.
During his junior
year at Cal State Northridge, Craig applied to 20
dental schools around the
nation and was
rejected at every one of them because his grades weren't
high enough to qualify him for
entrance. But my
father saved the day by calling his rich Uncle
Charlie, whom he supposedly hadn't seen
or spoken to in
over 25 years, to ask him humbly for the favor of
helping his son-in-law into USC Dental
School. Soon after,
my father's "Uncle" arranged for Craig's acceptance
to USC Dental School. Charles
Lilley Horn, wasn't
really my father's uncle but instead a cousin. He
was owner of Federal Cartridge
Corporation
(munitions manufacturer), which later became a major
subsidiary of the Olin Foundation,
188
Inc. During the
1960's, as President of the Olin Foundation (a
charitable trust established by F. W.
Olin, founder of
the Olin Corporation), Uncle Charlie contributed
sizeable donations to USC and had
connections to the
school. More on all of this in a later chapter. Upon
acceptance to dental school, Craig
quit Cal State
Northridge, before obtaining his BS degree, and worked
full time until he entered USC
School of Dentistry.
"But everything
exposed by the light becomes visible, for it is light
that makes everything visible."
-- Ephesians 5:13-14
"Get rid of all
bitterness, rage and anger ...be kind and compassionate
to one another, forgiving
each other, just as
in Christ God forgave you."-- Ephesians 4:31-32
189
Brice Taylor -
Thanks for the Memories
Chapter Twenty:
Jimmy Carter
Evidently Jimmy
Carter was too directed by his Christian belief system
and too connected to his
wife to ever stray.
It was my experience that if he was guilty of any
sexual indiscretions, he did only lust
in his heart. I
never had sex with Jimmy Carter.
He did, however,
listen and respond to messages delivered through me
from the Council. He had
a very hungry ear
and listened carefully and responded helpfully to all
but a few requests from them. He
even bit on a bunch
of Henry's messages, delivered through me. By then
Carter thought I was only
Council, he didn't
know I was connected to Henry Kissinger and Henry
loved that he was "puppeting a
democrat" and "one
that didn't believe in adultery but would take top
secret information from a whore
and run the country
from it." Henry thought it was the best laugh ever.
But he always ran parallel and
complementary with
the Council. They were his boss and he took many
orders from them politically, but
he could also place
in his own input.
"But now the Lord
who created you ...says: Don't be afraid, for I have
ransomed you; I have called
you by name; you
are mine. When you go through deep waters and great
trouble, I will be with you.
When you go through
rivers of difficulty, you will not drown! When you
walk though the fire of
oppression, you
will not be burned up - the flames will not consume
you. For I am the Lord your God,
your Savior..." --
Isaiah 43:1-3
190
Brice Taylor -
Thanks for the Memories
Chapter Twenty-one:
The Hollywood Connection
Michael Jackson
Michael Jackson was
just a little boy of four or five when I
accompanied Bob Hope to a place
where they were
filming up-and-coming talent for television. Bob told
me he supported and sponsored
the Jacksons,
getting them a professional foot in the door. Their
father brought the boys in and I
remembered seeing
them taken into a side room where bright lights were
on. They all had to drop their
pants and before
their performance a big man raped each one of them in
a lineup. Then they were taken
to a different room
and dressed in little suits and sent onto the stage
to perform. Due to the mind control
I was under, I'm
not sure exactly where we were, but feel that it was
the early days of the Ed Sullivan
Show. I watched as
Bob, dressed in a grey pinstripe suit and bow tie,
with white shoes, shook hands with
Ed; and then the
Jackson boys went on. They were made into a sensation
and famous, on purpose, so
that they could be
used in the future to influence large audiences. Bob
and his connections knew that all
they needed was
some talent, make-up, costumes, lights, glitter and
lots of publicity. He said publicity
was the most
important ingredient.
I was just a
teenager and Bob said that he wanted me to be present so I
could learn the ropes to
being a "starlet."
He wanted me to see how it was done and feel
comfortable around the stage. I think he
just said that as a
cover to other people to hide the real reason I was
with him - for his and others sexual
pleasure.
Bob explained to me
how important clothes are to one with a public
image to uphold. I had on a
short, small,
tight-fitting, low-cut, yellow, sheath dress. I did as I
was told and wore it along with the gold
high heels I was
provided.
Bob was often the
connection for new entertainment. The Council used
his connections for their
own interest and
got 'key' entertainers in place for future use. Many
were robots like me. I saw many of
them get hurt. I
never saw Bob get hurt though. The Jacksons were hurt;
I was witness to their abuse.
That first time
when they performed, Bob got them onto the show and
then we left in the limo and
watched from the
television inside. He told the driver to drive around
until the show was over. Then Bob
told me, "See how
easy it is to be a star?" And he laughed and pushed
my head into his lap for oral sex.
I think most would
agree that the inherent love that is part of Michael
Jackson's soul essence
shines through for
the world to see. In spite of the programming themes
in some of the songs he sings, as
I was recovering I
often held onto the words he sang, the lyrics
reminding me, "You are not alone," when
I felt so very
alone. To Michael, I extend a hand and say you also are
not alone. Now there is a way out of
this insanity.
Neil Diamond and
Others
Publicly, Neil
Diamond and Bob golfed together in the Springs. That's
how I got connected to him.
As a teenager, I
was programmed to serve Neil Diamond in different
capacities for many years. He
was not violent
like some of the others, but he didn't have any morals.
One day when I was
a young teenager, Neil walked though the breezeway
into our backyard to the
pool where I was
tanning in my bikini. My father got very angry and
told him, "Get the hell out of here!"
Neil replied, "Take
it easy, Pops. No one knows I'm here. Just Relax."
But he did leave after he
kissed me on the
cheek and ran his hands though my hair. He said he
just needed to see me for
191
"inspiration" and
then he left. Neil always said I was his inspiration
and after we'd have sex I'd
whisper programmed
phrases in his ear to incorporate into his songs or
phrases for program lock-in or,
as our controllers
said, "to move the targeted generation up another
notch."
When I was with
Neil I felt merged with him. I didn't know who I was,
where I ended and he
began. I was
programmed to magnify his essence so he could feel and see
more of who he was. I was used
often to contain
Neil, to bring him back to himself and bring his
"self" back to him when he felt he gave it
all away to crowds
and audiences. Over time I witnessed this being a
problem for a lot of programmed
stars. I was sent
to do this service for other celeb's, both male and
female, who needed to bounce off
another person in
order to maintain their programmed "selves." They got
lost at times and I was
programmed to help
them.
I suntanned with
him in the nude and like a protective Jewish mother,
he always made sure I had
lots of suntan
lotion on, especially in crucial spots so I wouldn't
burn. He didn't have neighbors and his
home was located up
on a hill in Malibu or the Santa Monica Mountains,
so it was very secluded. They
could have tricked
me in regard to the location of his house, but I
know I had to drive through the
canyon to get
there. He was building a new home and when the deck was
stable enough to hold us we
had sex outside. As
we looked upward toward the night sky, he named all
the stars on my list "to do." The
list was lettered
not numbered, such as, "(A) Barbra: Tuesday and
Thursday 3:30 p.m. (B) Carlo
Sangucci: 7:00
p.m...." and he continued inputting my schedule for the
week. He gave me instructions to
keep my schedule
organized. If he ever missed me for the week, I
couldn't function because I hadn't
received my local
assignments. For this reason, Neil and I were very
regular with each other. In my late
teens, I visited
with him nearly every week. And, when I was with him I
delivered lyrical words or
phrases for songs
to him after sex. When we were in our programmed
"cozy" state, he'd say, "give me
sugar," and I'd
unload all I had been given into him and later it would
show up over and over in his
songs. Privately,
he would attribute it only to my being his undying
inspiration. I was used with Neil like
I was with Elvis,
which leads me to believe that Neil is also
programmed.
Neil played the
piano and sang to practice while wearing sweatpants and
no shirt. He also had a
room where the
whole entire wall was mirrored. He stood and looked into
the mirror and sang to himself
to rehearse. In
some ways he reminded me of Elvis.
I was never allowed
to interrupt while he was playing. But when he was
through, he had me do
everything for him,
including a massage or sex, manicure and pedicure -
even if he'd just had one
somewhere else. He
could never get enough touching and attention. I had
a whole grouping of
personalities
located beneath 'tiger sex programming,' seven in all,
devoted to him and he would say, "I
have seven so I can
get to heaven and you darlin' take me to heaven."
Neil programmed in, "Wine will
take you to the
place of love." He had a room with fountains, Buddhas,
and ferns where he meditated.
His place of
"perfect peace," he called it. He created devotion in the
personalities within me by
programming into me
the love and goodness of Jesus, His pure love, all
into my heart chakra so that the
feelings of
devotion would be directed toward him.
Pornography was
often filmed at his estate. Bob sent people from his
parties that were sexually
wild to Neil's for
filming in pornography. It didn't matter if they
were only children. Neil's porn business
was so large that
it kept a large number of Malibu, Pacific Palisades,
Ventura, Calabasas, and Agoura
Hills slaves very
busy. Whole programmed families were used. 'Sex with
families' videos were popular in
the 80's among a
certain group and Neil seemed totally fascinated,
watching families together. He loved
bodies. He said he
was a connoisseur of the human body as an art form.
That's why he said he liked to
film the most
beautiful act on earth, the love act, when people were as
intimate as they could get. He said
that children
should be allowed to openly enjoy the pleasures of sex.
He asked, "Why should they have to
wait to enjoy these
natural pleasures?" I couldn't think to answer. He
liked to see their physical
characteristics and
he liked to watch them, as he called it, "make
love, family-style." Other times when he
was in a different
sort of mood, he would refer to the pornography as,
"getting it on, family-style."
192
Unfortunately and
sorrowfully, I remembered being programmed to drive
children to Neil's. Once
we arrived I walked
into the house like I owned it. I knew where the
hidden key was and ushered
everyone in and got
them settled. The rule at Neil's house in the hills
was that you had to check your
clothes and shoes
at the door. None were allowed, or else you couldn't
enter, "the Sanctuary," as he
called it. Neil
often came out in his black silk robe and black
slippers to meet his, "guests," he called
them. He looked
them over and if they were particularly appealing to
him, he would want to have sex
with one or more
after the filming. Neil was what Henry Kissinger
called "versatile," which meant he
liked sex with
everything. I will spare you the details but he relieved
himself sexually, often, as he felt it
made him powerful
and continually virile. That was very important to
him. Neil said he loved the beauty
and amount of
innocence that was present when a group of blonde
neighborhood children were together.
They were filmed
often. Neil also filmed bestiality porn. He gave the
kids cocaine and filmed it in the
house or somewhere
on the grounds. Sometimes the 4-H kids brought their
animals, and they filmed the
kids having sex
with each other and the animals. We were all just
viewed as worker bees and mindlessly
did whatever we
were told.
When we left to go
home, I once again entered a programmed mind state,
by traveling "The
Highway to Heaven,"
which I was told was Kanan Road. I was given the
hypnotic command to
"remember to
forget," whenever I saw many signs and signals along the
canyon roads, in their attempt to
keep memory of
these events hidden from my conscious mind.
At other times, if
I arrived before Neil, I was told to wait and so I
sat down on his white sofa.
Obediently, I
waited, looking straight ahead or out the window to the
distant view. Then I heard the
chopper and on one
occasion he came walking into the house wearing a
tan suit and sunglasses. One
time he even wore
those guru sandals with his suit. Then I helped him
relax and he would say
programmed phrases
to me like, "Honey, you're ageless, timeless, and
all mine baby, all mine. You are
my pot of gold at
the end of the rainbow. All mine, devoted only to
me." I got him anything he wanted or
needed no matter
what it was, and I was programmed to love doing it.
Some nights I was
assigned to go to parties with him where we'd, "hob
knob with the rich and
famous," he'd say,
as he held out his arm for me to hold onto. We
didn't stay too long at parties because
he would want to
have a private party for two at home. Some evenings we
were helicoptered to his home
in the hills. He
wanted and demanded my full attention. He never wanted
to enter the reality that I had
my own boyfriend or
husband. He wanted me to think of him as my man, my
only man. But, he had sex
with lots of people
in front of me. He always wanted me to stay right
in the room during the filming of
porn as well as
later when he had sex with whoever was filmed. He would
flip out and act like an
emotionally
temperamental boy at times. Regardless of his actions, I
was programmed to be totally
devoted and I
catered to his demands exclusively.
Neil Diamond was a
Council "treasure" and they kept him well taken care
of. I attended concerts
of his to shore him
up when he said he wanted and needed me to be
there. I got up from my ticketed seat
next to my young
husband and told him I was going to the restroom
during the intermission. Instead I
slid backstage with
Neil, who was all sweaty, shaking and needing to
share the powerful high he was on.
He said that all
the energy people focused onto him was totally
overwhelming him and he said he needed
me to ground him
out so he could go back on stage. That meant sex and
then, as programmed, I told him
I loved him and
that he was the very best and to go out and give them
all that he had. I told him if he
gave all of himself
to the audience who loved him, that they would
shower it all back to him. He was
always afraid that
when he gave so much at performances that he would
become depleted but I helped
him reframe that
belief, so he went back out empowered, not consumed.
Then he would snort a couple of
lines of cocaine
and go back out to the screaming fans, and I returned
to my seat next to Craig.
Craig and I
attended another of his concerts at the Universal
Amphitheater. Neil told me to drink
a champagne
cocktail, which at times was against the rules, but for the
night he was my master. He said
193
he wanted me to
catch up to him (he was on a drug high), but even after
I'd had a drink I always came
into focus for Neil
and was instructed to mirror back to him what my
controllers wanted him to be, do,
say and feel. Lots
of the words to his songs were program lock-ins for
me ...like Starlight, Starflight, and
Turn on Your
Heartlight (ET). I was programmed to listen to his music
to keep my programming and
memories locked
away from my conscious mind.
Neil used to say he
was singing to me while he was on stage. That was
pretty powerful for me to
contain, while I
sat next to my husband during the concert. In my
conscious awareness I had no idea I
was doing anything
other than attending Neil's concert; but even as I
sat in a conscious state of
unawareness, the
underlying feelings were powerful as I held my
connection to Neil. We had an
agreement that he
would sing it all to me, send everything he had to
me, and I would say, "And I will be
here collecting all
of you and I will bring it back to you filled with
more love and more caring than you
could ever
imagine!" That made him smile. Then at intermission or after
the concert, I'd go and give it all
back to him to fill
him back up. He pretended like he was taking it and
then he dressed and went out with
other people. Neil
was hustled into a limo and was gone, and so were
those parts of me that were
programmed to go to
sleep inside of me until they saw Neil again. Then
Craig would come and take me
home.
I also attended his
Hot August Nights concert at the Greek Theatre in
1972.
Neil said he liked
to be showered with love, and in response I was
always soft and nurturing and
loving with him. I
catered to him exclusively while I was with him. He
loved to trace his finger around my
belly button to
bring out "Jeanie."
I was still having
sex and caring for Neil, even while I was in therapy
in 1988. I went to therapy in
Westwood and then
swung home, down Pacific Coast Highway to meet Neil
somewhere or at his home,
have sex, and then
I'd drive back to Agoura to my home, with "fresh
fish" I bought for my family at the
Malibu Fish Store.
Bob laughed when he said it would be a good cover.
Bob saw the world through a
completely sexual
orientation.
Stars had trouble
getting "secured" sex with people. They couldn't
trust that people weren't
coming on to them
to manipulate or hurt them, and since they were
famous they couldn't risk losing
their public
reputation. So, slaves were provided to them. And Bob
provided me to everyone he could,
knowing the value
of connections to powerful people. He laughed and
said, "It's all right, she's
broadening herself."
Word seemed to
spread like wildfire to stars about the sex slave
service. They loved it just like the
politicians did,
since they thought they could let their hair down and
not have to worry because many
were told I was a
robot that couldn't ever divulge their secrets. With
individuals not privy to the topsecret
mind control
information, Bob explained, "She's beautiful and highly
sexual, but she's mentally
slow and can't
think. She doesn't have the ability to remember. She's
been like this since birth, but...,"
Bob elucidated,
"...what she lacks upstairs she greatly makes up for
downstairs," and he'd smile slyly, "if
you know what I
mean."
Many people never
knew that I was a robot, under total mind control.
They just thought I was
slow or deaf and
dumb. That was another tactic Bob used. He had
different explanations for different
people, but for
Neil Diamond, personalities were created within me who
talked, listened, loved and cared
for Neil.
Bob often called
other men, "Son." I overheard him say, "Listen son,
she'll please you and ease you
and not spill the
beans. She can't think to! But that won't hurt, it
will only enhance your pleasure. Try it
and see. I think
you'll like it!" Bob maximized my usage by sending me
to many, many stars and
politicians over
the years. He sent me to Quincy Jones, Burt Reynolds,
Eddie Murphy, and others. Many
of them didn't want
to risk too much exposure with strangers for
various and sundry reasons; they didn't
194
want to become too
attached emotionally, didn't want to risk the
security of knowing someone too
long where a person
could find out too much and hurt them in different
ways, or there were other
reasons unique to
individual celebrities.
Mickey Rooney
In yesteryears, I
was taken to show openings or galas in Hollywood,
because Mickey would want
me to be there,
usually disguised. Later on after I had children, my
daughter Kelly would be waiting
inside the limo to
give him oral sex. Mickey wanted me there to watch.
Mickey always liked to have tons
of women, as many
as he could amass, flanked by his side. I overheard
him say to Bob that it was good
for his image. Bob
replied, "Anytime it can be arranged for you to use
any of my girls, I'd be delighted."
And that was
arranged, over and over again. Bob made sure Kelly was
trained in many of the same
ways he trained me.
We went to the Playboy Club for Kelly to have bunny
lessons. I was dressed in a long
black velvet gown
with diamonds and Kelly had on a long red velvet gown
with her hair done up and
make-up. She was
around 10 years old. All this to insure Bob's 'little
filly' was prepared for use with
whomever he decided
to share her with. There were times Mickey Rooney
would rendezvous with my
family at a small
exclusive restaurant in Agoura Hills. When the cues
were given, Kelly would get up to
go to the restroom
and Mickey Rooney took over, later sexually
pleasuring himself with our beautiful
little daughter. He
had a house near the area. I am not sure where
exactly, but his house had a solarium
with an indoor pool
and he liked to have a lot of naked women around
the pool. He was absolutely
disgusting, but he
really liked Kelly a lot.
Jane Fonda
I believe Jane
Fonda was under programming, also. She was part of the
experiment on how to
achieve "eternal
youth," while participating to further the cause in
behind-the-scenes political arenas. I
occasionally passed
Council messages to her at her Beverly Hills
Fitness Center. They had a control
group within the
project to see if women would stay youthful and cease
to age with just mind
programming, or if
exercise needed to be combined with the programming.
They had a control group
participating like
Jane with the same eternal youth program, yet not
exercising extensively to see which
method prolonged
longevity. In case you are interested, they found
exercise to be a necessary component
for successful
anti-aging.
James Taylor
My husband took me
to James' concerts; we went often when he was in
town. During one concert
I had two glasses
of wine. My instructions were that after I drank them
I was to go to the restroom and
then go to the
backstage door, and knock two times. When the door
opened, I said, "Bob Hope sent me.
Anybody interested?
Anybody want any body?"
"Hell yes!" a man
in a casual shirt said, pulling me in the door.
"James will need a little at the
break. A little
pick-me-upper for his pecker. You just sit down here
little lady and get yourself HOT. No,"
he laughed, "cool
your wheels or is that heels? Just relax your c--t
until it's time for the hunt. James is
almost finished
with the set." He pretended he was yelling to James in
a high voice, "James, she's here,
the one you hold
near and dear, the c--t from Bob the Boss man." Then
he looked over to me and said,
"Just a few moments
and you'll be on the Highway to Heaven with James
...little Jimmy."
James stumbled off
stage all sweaty and took my hand. I was feeling shy
and he said, "Follow me
on the Highway to
Heaven. You are in for the ride of the night, as you
ride my jewel to heaven. It will be
out of this world,
otherworldly, outta' sight!" He took me into a room
and laid me on a couch chair and
said, "Look into
the air, don't beware, your chicken is cookin,' you're
good lookin,' but aren't aware." He
pushed my head over
to the side real hard and continued, "Show me your
wares." So I took off my
195
clothes and dropped
them to the floor. He told me to sit and spread 'em
so I did and he dropped his
loose fitting off
white cotton trousers on the floor. While he held
tightly to the back of my head, he
relieved himself in
my mouth. "Oh, oh," he screamed, "that was
gooooood. Swallow that please and then
you can be
excused." He swished on by, kind of dancy like and said,
"That oughtta' propel me into the
second half with
gusto!"
He walked out,
closed the door and I sat there like a robot until
another guy came in and raped me
on the couch. He
said, "James saved your c--t for me this time." He
stood over me and when he
orgasmed he
screamed, "I feel like a cock-a-doodle-do!" he said crowing
like a rooster. When he was
through with me he
said, "Okay, its clothes time!" then he delivered a
hypnotic hand command. I got up
and pulled my
clothes on and he led me out to the side door where Craig
was standing at the door
waiting for me.
Craig took me by the hand, and I felt like a little
girl going back to my seat where I sat
robotically until
the concert was finished.
Over the years I
was programmed to listen repeatedly to James Taylor's
songs while some of the
word phrases
"re-minded" me to, "...leave your mind behind, Mexico..."
and "...you can run but you
cannot hide, this
is widely known ...."
Barbra Streisand
Barbra Streisand
was used in the same way as other Hollywood
celebrities before and after her.
Through my personal
experience with Barbra Streisand, I believe she is
under the control of many of the
same persons I was.
She was pre-programmed to deliver messages she
couldn't even have known she
was passing on to
millions of people. She sang her songs and was given
carefully selected, pre-chosen
words that would
serve to lock in or open up certain programming in
other mind control victims.
My own programming
was laced with many of her songs. Victims of mind
control hear the lyrics
of a song and take
the phrases that match their programming literally.
The words they hear tie into
subconscious memory
of past traumatic experiences intended to keep them
helplessly and hopelessly
under mind control.
Barbra sang a song entitled My Pa which I was told
represented my feelings toward
my father and the
words were powerfully connected to my emotional
state, creating a feeling of love and
safety with my
father, when in fact he was torturing me endlessly,
nearly every day. The lyrics stated,
"My pa can light my
room at night with just his being there, and make a
fearful dream all right by
grinning ear to
ear..." etc.
Her song, "I'm in a
New York State of mind, " was tied to programming
to orient me to events and
people I was used
with in New York in order to keep that reality
separate from my conscious mind. Many
of the lyrics from
her song Memories, served as a hypnotic command to
my subconscious mind, in order
to 're-mind' me
that, "Memories may be beautiful and yet what's too
painful to remember, we simply
choose to forget."
Another of her songs, Send in the Clowns, reminded
me and can remind other
survivors of the
abuse they endured as children in circus or amusement
park settings where clowns were
used as
perpetrators. And, then there's her rendition of Over the
Rainbow, which taps into Wizard of Oz
programming themes.
As a teenager my
cassette tapes and, as I grew older, my CD's of
Barbra's songs, were well worn
from endless
listening, as the lyrics to her songs, coupled with my
already intact program commands,
continued to create
my reality, whatever my controllers wanted it to
be. Up until recently, my mother
repeatedly listened
to Barbra Steisand's songs. As a child I often had
trouble getting my mother's
attention because
when she listened to the songs she became so fixated
on the music that she was very
far off somewhere
in a programmed reality created by our controllers.
She seemed very happy, almost
euphoric. I've
witnessed other survivors cling desperately to their
Walkman delivering their programmed
commands, while I'm
trying to talk with them, due to their attempt to,
as they've experienced, keep
themselves "safe"
by reinforcing their program "to forget."
196
When Barbra
performed, which was rare, she was delivering a perfectly
planned and orchestrated
set of cryptic
instructions to many of the people in attendance. She
reached a wider audience, as mindcontrolled
victims bought the
cassette tape or video of the performance and
listened to it over and over
and over again.
Certain groups of mind-controlled people, like my
mother and myself, were targeted for
listening to her.
Per program, we listened to her songs addictively and
compulsively while following the
command to
reprogram ourselves by locking down the security of our own
programming. Of course,
Barbra herself is a
victim and, from my observation, I am sure has no
awareness that she is doing
anything other than
performing.
Barbra Streisand
has extremely large breasts for her small body size.
I've seen her naked at Bob
Hope's parties and
at other places. I was even involved in group sexual
orgies where she was
participating. And
at other times, I was targeted to have sex with her
one-on-one in order to deliver
messages to her to
keep her programming going or to instruct her on
what to say at certain times. She is
a mind-controlled
robot. She did lots of cocaine at parties. She liked
sex with women, and usually
requested it. I was
sent to her often.
My husband
frequently took me out for dinner in Malibu when there was
an alternate agenda to
be accomplished.
One night after such a dinner he drove me up a canyon
road in his Datsun 280Z. He
stopped along the
road and we sat in the dark without saying anything
until a black sedan pulled up next
to the car. I got
out and climbed into the back seat of the sedan. Two
men in the front seat were dressed
in dark expensive
suits and the man in the passenger side had a gold
pinky ring. They continued up a
winding road to a
house in the canyon and when we arrived they opened
the door of the house with a key
and went in. Barbra
Streisand was robotically sitting on the couch and
I was told to sit down next to her
and link up by
holding her hands. So I took her hands and then the man
said, "Deliver the words." So I
did. After I
delivered the message, they used the stun gun on us both.
Barbra laid face down on the
couch, really out
of it, with her hand hanging down over the side. Her
face was very pale and she looked
asleep. The man
took me by the arm and pushed me toward the door and we
left. Craig, still waiting in
the Z, flashed his
headlights and they stopped the sedan, transferred
me back to my husband and we
went home.
In September of
1986, Barbra sent out invitations to a special
fundraising concert to be given at
her home 'under the
stars,' in Malibu. My husband received our
invitation at his dental office and said we
should go, but I
remember saying to him, "It's $5,000 a ticket, what
are you thinking of?" I was in school
as well as therapy
by this time, and spending $10,000 was a huge chunk
out of the resources that I
needed to spend on
my healing and education. I was more interested in
my recovery than one night of
Barbra Streisand in
concert.
My husband replied,
"Well, it would be a great memory." Prior to this
episode, Craig had never
displayed any
special attraction to Barbra Streisand or her music.
Later when she and
I were both switched into a "programmed state of
mind," she told me she was
upset that I didn't
buy a ticket to come to see her in concert at her
home. Ironically, I ended up being at
her concert in
Malibu anyway to have sex with and target some military
guy with a bunch of stars on his
uniform and later
after the concert, Barbra. I was incognito and wore
my lace off-the-shoulder dress that
I had previously
worn for our family portraits. It was a $400 dress my
husband bought me. I had to be at
different places
afterwards to help her relax and unwind, which usually
ended up in sex. I had been
instructed to say
specific words to relax her. A therapist was there at
other times to help.
When they could
sell a certain number of very expensive tickets to her
concert in the area of her
home, they proved
the results of a mind control project experiment to
see if that targeted area was
sufficiently under
mind control. Checkmate! When it sold out they felt
they had won because they sent
the invitations to
people that would be the hardest to control (the
most challenging) and when it sold out
they knew they had
"cracked the code." Their victory was only
temporary. As I now know, they were
197
mistaken, for, I
believe The City of Angels (Los Angeles) is
spiritually destined to wake up to claim its
name to fame!
No one could tell
there had even been a mind control experiment that
concluded with Barbara's
Malibu performance.
This was one way the controllers made large sums of
money, all carefully concealed
in such "charity
fundraisers," which were then meticulously funneled
into covert accounts. And, they
further locked
victims in, not only with the concert but with the video
that was made of the concert.
During her Malibu,
One Voice performance, Barbra delivered one
program-laced song lyric after
another. First she
sang “Send In the Clowns.” Then
she announced that in her research she came across
one of the finest
songs ever written, and the lyrics felt so relevant
she decided to sing it and dedicated it
to the woman who
first sang it. That song was Over the Rainbow, and
encompasses these lyrics:
"When all the world
is a hopeless jumble and the raindrops tumble all
around,
heaven opens a
magic lane. When all the clouds darken up the skyway,
there's a
rainbow highway to
be found, leading from your windowpane to a place
behind
the sun, just a
step beyond the rain. Somewhere over the rainbow, way
up high,
there's a land that
I've heard of once in a lullaby. Somewhere over the
rainbow,
skies are blue. And
the dreams that you dare to dream really do come
true.
Someday I'll wish
upon a star and wake up where the clouds are far
behind me.
Where troubles melt
like lemon drops way above the chimney-tops, that's
where
you'll find me.
Somewhere over the rainbow, bluebirds fly. Birds fly
over the
rainbow, why then,
oh, why can't I. If all those little bluebirds fly
beyond the
rainbow, why oh
why, can't I?"
To further explain
the significance of these word phrases for mind
control victims:
"...heaven opens a
magic lane," was for me a hypnotic induction for
mind control.
"...there's a
rainbow highway to be found, leading from your windowpane
to a place behind the
sun, just a step
beyond..." for me was a program command to switch to
the Highway to Heaven, which
was a dissociative
state in which I went over the rainbow to a
subconscious place in my mind where I was
commanded not to
associate what happened there with my everyday,
conscious reality.
In Barbra's duet
with Andy Gibb, they sang the song Guilty and the
words that powerfully affected
me and could effect
other ritual abuse/mind control survivors are:
Gibb quickly enters
the stage from behind singing, "there's danger in
the dark," which for me was
a subconscious
reminder of trauma that occurs in the dark. Over the
years, the word 'dark' was linked in
my subconscious
mind to ritual terrors and horrors, a reminder that
commanded me to remember to
forget, or else.
Further lyrics were:
"...Shadows fallin'
baby, we stand alone..." - victims are often told
they will be left to stand all
alone, that no one
outside 'the network' will believe or help them, or
even want to be around them.
"...Nothing to be
guilty for..." - a release for the endless ways many
are forced to participate in the
evil deeds,
puppeted and dictated by our controllers.
"...Eyes can see,
that we got a highway to the sky..." - victims are
told they are always watched, by
the 'eye in the
sky' and in other ways by their controllers. Eyes are
often a common theme in the
art/journal work of
victims in recovery. These three small words, "eyes
can see..." have powerful
meaning, sneaking
through a subconscious doorway into the mind of a
victim of mind control in order to
remind them to
watch carefully that they stay in line.
"...that we got a
highway to the sky..." - can be a hypnotic induction
to dissociate in order to
receive program.
"...how can I win?
Where will The tomorrow?" -words of despair, defeat.
198
The powerful ending
to the duet is: "and we got nothing ...and we got
nothing, and we got
nothing..." Let me
tell you Barry and Barbra, and all of the other
beautiful people locked under the
bondage of mind
control: that is a lie, a lie our controllers told all
of us. The truth is that we have
everything. We are
rich, starting with our spiritual heritage. The One
that created us is powerfully
working within to
set you free from those who for years have benefited,
by allowing you to soar, sharing
your talents with
others as they controlled and manipulated you for
their own benefit, through mind
control - through
the control of your mind and mine. I wasn't famous,
so when I broke free I wasn't as
large a threat as
you are and will be. I was small potatoes to my
controllers. But to God I was important,
as all His children
are, and He has commissioned me to dedicate my life
to seeing to it that you, some of
the most talented
human beings on this planet, are freed. This is His
wish because He has assured me
that you have at
the center of your being, love, and that when you can
know the magnitude of issues we
face at this time,
that you will stand and reach your hand down to your
fellow brothers and sisters, to
help them. At this
time I am lending my hand, via Him, to you in hopes
that some of you may be freed in
order to reach your
hands out to the masses. It is our last hope and we
are running out of time. God has
placed a great
magnitude of love in my heart for you and my children,
and I love all of you more than life
itself, because
indeed in sharing this information it would seem that I
am putting my life at risk. But the
Master Himself has
assured me safe passage, as I go for help for all of
you. And this manuscript is my
attempt to "go for
help," for you. I also am aware that those of you
who are programmed will not be able,
like oil reacting
to water, to read or comprehend what I have written.
But I hope others will intercede for
you in order that
you can be delivered from the bondage you have been
held captive by. I love you, as
individuals and for
the beautiful heavenly creative talents you
possess, but not as immensely as God
does. He wants your
freedom, He wants your release and He won't rest
until you are all free of this evil
force, one that at
this time you are unable to be aware of.
As the concert
proceeded, Barbra said, "I am going to light this candle
in memory of all those wise
and good men whose
lives were senselessly and violently snuffed out
before their time: Lincoln, Ghandi,
Martin Luther King,
John Kennedy, Anwar Sadat, Olaf Palmer, men of
peace and vision, voices the world
so desperately
needs now - father figures. I think we've all lost
someone whose guidance and wisdom we
miss in times of
fear and confusion, and this is for them." After which
she sang: "May the light of this
flickering candle,
illuminate the night the way your spirit illuminates
my soul." Sounds to me like bits
and pieces of
reminders of people I watched killed over the years.
Next in her
backyard concert, Barbra sang Pa Pa, where the lyrics say,
"Pa Pa can you hear me?
...Looking at the
skies I seem to see a million eyes which ones are
yours?" Again, there is the "eyes
watching you" theme.
Next was, of
course, Memories, with the lyrics reminding our
subconscious minds: "Memories like
the corners of my
mind, misty water-colored memories like the way we
were. Scattered pictures of the
smiles we left
behind, smiles we gave to one another for the way we
were. Can it be that it was all so
simple then or has
time rewritten every line, if we had the chance to
do it all again, tell me would we,
could we? Memories
may be beautiful and yet, what's too painful to
remember we simply choose to
forget. For it's
the laughter we remember, whenever we remember the way
we were."
At the end of her
concert, in a patriotic quest, Barbra sang America
the Beautiful and invited the
audience to join
with her in song.
During those years,
(although at the time I was consciously unaware of
my involvement) her
therapist and I
were often in charge of keeping Barbra stable and
balanced. The therapist worked with
her psychological
state and I worked on her body, doing massage
therapy, accupressure, polarity
therapy, etc. All
this was done to keep Barbra in shape and in line.
She was fragile and needed a lot to
keep her going.
I was called in
often to shore Barbra up, especially in between times
when she was out of
relationship or
having problems with her male friends. Later in her
career, she had trouble even having
sex with men. When
she was alone, she would get scared at night and
need someone. As programmed,
199
I'd go over after
my children were taken care of or when our maid was
there, at which time I was free
to go at anytime. I
held Barbra and did whatever she seemed to need to
get her stabilized.
We walked on the
beach a lot, especially after she bought the home away
from the Colony nest
(the grouping of
homes she owned) and people that knew her. She bought
a place just a few blocks down
the street. It was
very clever because if people thought they saw her
on the beach, they could assume she
was at home, but
then she'd disappear into the anonymous home that was
purchased in another name to
give her the
privacy she needed. Then her therapist and I could go to
her there unnoticed. She wanted
privacy even from
her maids, and would arrange for her therapist and I
to be with her. If she didn't call
on the car phone
and tell me, she would walk to the new house and call
me from her bedroom. I was
instructed to go to
the front gate and from a call box tell the maid a
coded message to give to her. Barbra
usually gave the
maid the rest of the day off, explaining she was going
to be with friends. Then after the
therapist and
myself arrived, we would take her to "the house-house,"
as she called it. One night we were
called out for a
'Barbra emergency' and when her therapist and I
arrived we found Barbra in the closet
upstairs at the
'house-house,' even before it was carpeted. She
couldn't wait. She was all huddled into a
little ball and
crying with her hair all stringy and hanging in her
face. She looked like a little frightened
child. She was
breaking down often and her controllers couldn't afford
for her to break up yet. She was a
real mess. She just
survived to do what they needed her to do. She sat
in my lap and I nurtured her and
she showed me her
dolls and things. I massaged her and did reflexology,
accupressure, polarity,
whatever I could do
to help her. I did body treatments on her often,
usually more than once a week - up
to five times a
week - and it usually ended up in sex as she initiated
it.
Barbra had to be
kept together because she had been used to make the
connections to some very
important people,
and especially to the masses. Because she had been so
heavily invested in, as a mind
control asset, they
now had to keep her "maintained" 24 hours a day at
times and had to use other slaves
to shore her up.
Unlike a "normal" person, she could never talk about
what she saw and remembered in
private (during
sleep or upon awakening) without being monitored.
Whatever it took or cost was worth it
to her controllers
because they built her up to a certain targeted
audience so completely that her
controllers paid
exorbitant amounts of money to keep her together, and
her fans would pay any amount
to see her. Many
may themselves be under mind control.
They carefully
prepared Barbra to harmonically control crowds. She did,
not only with the natural
talent she has and
the trained harmonics in her voice, but also with
the hand signals and word
combinations she
sang. She is a total robot and is breaking down, but
they will spend a fortune to keep
her together (like
poor Elvis) until she just can't function anymore.
So no expense was
spared for her. We organized little tea parties for
Barbra based on different
themes given to us
by my professor in the Master's program. We'd buy
items that were just made for
Barbra. I would
stop at Michael's Party Shop and give them the list of
items and the sales people would
gather it all up
for me. Then I'd go to Barbra, switched to the
personality inside of me who was created to
be older than me
and older than Barbra, the one who was designed to
care for the "Big B," the "Queen B,"
when she needed it.
She was our friend. We hated to see her crumble.
Sometimes the
Council gave me different drugs for Barbra. She always
got to choose one, but I
think they all must
have done the same thing, just packaged in
different wrappers or capsules. As soon as
she would pass out,
and that is what she always did, a group of men
would come into the house with
equipment to work
on her. Sometimes it looked like her body came off
the couch from the electroshock.
It was awful to
watch. Then when they took the equipment off of her
body, it would be cold and clammy,
yet she would have
a band of sweat on her face. It was my job, or her
therapist's, to get her back on her
feet again.
Sometimes she would sleep for days afterward. Then I heard
them say they had to adjust her,
that is, give her
more "sessions." When she came around we would be
soft and kind and gentle to her and
200
eventually she
would come out of it. A friend of her therapist helped
Barbra, too, on nights she
couldn't. It became
increasingly difficult to manage getting her put
back together. It was a team effort.
I gave her
injections, also. I was taught to pinch the skin on the top
fatty portion of her arm, then
stick the needle in
it so I couldn't hurt anything. I was given a
syringe to deliver drugs to arms or thighs
when and if the
need arose, which later became quite often. I had to
give Barbra the injections whenever
they told me to;
otherwise they would have killed us both. I'd seen
them do it to others.
Barbra liked for me
to sing with her and harmonize. She said it made
her feel happy like the good
ole' days when she
was young. She had on pink bell bottoms and a white
tank top. She was really out
there, stoned,
drunk, or drugged out of her mind.
The massage idea
helped keep a slave enslaved and contained because the
accupressure points
often matched up
correctly with programmed touch spots. It worked well.
Bodywork eased the stress of
the body while
locking the mind in program - a great leisurely and
heavenly containment idea to further
imprison mind
control slaves. With rich and famous slaves they said it
was easy because they could send
them off on endless
journeys, trips, workshops, special spas, expos,
etc., because these slaves had the
money to pursue
different avenues that often led them directly back
into containment. The Colony is not
far from Point Mugu
Naval Base (a mind control programming center) and
seems to have been in
conveniently close
proximity for reconditioning purposes. More on Point
Mugu later.
They also
programmed us to "psychically" deliver messages or directions
for slaves to follow, since
we all had the
belief in psychic gifts, etc. and were so suggestible.
To some celebrities (most of them
women), while
giving them a massage, I would touch certain 'points' on
their body while dropping a
psychic prediction
and they would think I was really gifted when in a
few days, my prediction would
come true. The
higher the level of the slave, the more the controllers
were willing to invest financially to
make the predicted
experience "come to pass." Someone of Streisand's
stature and programmed
investment was
worth a "prediction come true episode" that had class
and dignity. This is not to say that
I don't believe in
psychic reality, because I do, but these psychic
realities were created and controlled, by
those who sought to
create circumstances that were making them lots of
money.
I was used with
Streisand most often in 1985-1987, during the time I
attended Pepperdine
University in
Malibu. Before 1985, I was sent to her when she needed me
in the evenings in Malibu.
Craig often drove
me out to dinner to accomplish these rendezvous, but
after I started at Pepperdine, I
would tell him that
I had to go back to the campus to study. I often
parked in the Pepperdine Library
parking lot where I
was picked up by the men in suits and dropped off
at Barbra's house. This way they
had different cars
going in and out. Lots of times I was told to go to
her during daytime hours. I had a
high level of fear
that was present with me most all the time, only I
was so scared and programmed that I
was unable to think
about it with my mind. But my pain-filled, often
weary and exhausted body told the
truth of my
experiences.
Barbra switched
personalities a lot. I think that might be why she was
afraid to perform on stage.
Those with 'the
eyes to see and the ears to hear' might have greater
insight in regard to an article written
about her in the
July 1994 issue of Ladies Home Journal. In it, when
asked about her string of unhappy
relationships and
her inability to have long-lasting relationships, in
her own words Barbra states, "I live
with a lot of
angst," and "I'm a mass of contradictions. I change and I
grow. I change my mind all the
time. So tell
(whatever) man I'm looking for that if he likes to have
affairs with lots of women, then I'm
perfect for him!"
Could she be referring to first-hand experience with
Multiple Personality Disorder?
When she did
perform, such as the concert she gave at her home in
Malibu, she had to have
someone like me to
focus on internally, someone who was part of her
programmed reality so she could
feel stronger. To
accomplish this she was programmed to pretend that
myself or someone else was
201
standing next to
her on stage so it would shore her up to do the
performance. Then she performed,
just like she was
programmed to do, delivering her controller's
strategy to the unsuspecting and perhaps
partially
programmed crowd.
I once overheard
Henry say that he would give the public what they
wanted and demanded
celebrities and
fanfare - since that was all they were capable of
understanding anyway. He said most of
the private sector
were totally ignorant of governmental matters and
that, since they didn't avail
themselves to
knowledge of the way their country was run, it was
evident that they really wanted and
needed for "those
in the know" to take charge and run things. He said
that since he and other leaders
were interested and
capable, they would do the job, making the
decisions and seeing to it that things ran
smoothly.
Hollywood
celebrities are constantly tied back into the White House to
add flair and drama, and
to bring in covert
funds, but most importantly to add diversion to keep
the American public focused in
whatever direction
the controllers want, instead of having the public
focused on what is really going on
behind the scenes.
One time when I was
shoring up Barbra at her home, I found her huddled
down, crouching,
wringing her hands,
terrified. She looked up at me in a childlike
manner and said, "I don't have to sing
tonight, do I?"
I said, "No, honey,
not tonight."
She replied in a
childlike voice, "Phew..."
I felt frightened
to see her acting like a child when she switched to
very young parts of herself, and
didn't know what to
expect when she said, "Let's play with the clay
again." She had a table where we sat
to play with clay.
It looked like a child's table for adult size
people. She switched personalities often then,
so we would have
tea parties and play games to entertain her child
personalities.
Her son also played
different games with her. One time she dressed like
a clown and was acting
and kicking like
doing karate and she yelled out, "Hey Jason!" and he
came running and jumped into bed
with her and
started cuddling. Then they both went to sleep and, as
instructed, I could then leave.
Sometimes she
wanted her therapist to join them and would say, "Come
and see how fun Jas is." And,
one of us would. We
were all unable, incapable, and not of our own mind
to choose anything else.
Usually we cleaned
up the mess she had made playing and then
afterwards, would cover her up, tiptoe
out of her room and
leave.
I flew from Kauai,
after I had these memories about Barbra, in order to
meet with one of my
therapists. She met
me at a restaurant in Los Angeles and as I told her
about the memories I had about
Barbra Streisand
the color drained from her face. Later, I understood
her intense reaction, as I became
aware that Barbra
was her client. That day we both sat in shock and
silence. I knew then that, although
my therapist and I
did not understand what everything meant, the love
that we both believed in and the
Holy Spirit that
led us was ever-present. And not knowing what else to
do, all I know is that the love and
compassion I have
for Barbra Streisand and all victims of mind control
demands that I now share this
information. I told
Barbra's therapist everything I knew at that time,
so she could attempt to help
Barbra. Since I was
no longer in California and easily accessible, I
stopped being the one used to keep
Barbra Streisand
under program. I am glad for that.
Elton John
Elton John's,
"Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, " with its obvious potential
to trigger those with Oz
programming, called
my attention. Elton wrote Candle in the Wind, in
regard to Marilyn Monroe, and he
later produced a
version in honor of Princess Di. He sings, "...you
crawled out of the woodwork and they
whispered into your
brain, they set you on the treadmill and they made
you change your name." He
continues,
"...Hollywood created a superstar and pain was the price you
paid. Even when you died, oh
the press still
hounded you, all the papers had to say was Marilyn was
found in the nude..." and, "...the
202
candle burned out
long before your legend ever did." In Someone Saved
My Life Tonight Elton sings
"...sitting like a
princess perched in her electric chair." "...You
nearly had me roped and tied, alter-bound,
hypnotized, Sweet
Freedom whispered in my ear, "You're a butterfly, and
butterflies are free to fly, fly
away, high away,
bye, bye." Perhaps Elton knows personally about these
Project Monarch, mind control
issues and in his
own way, through his songs, has attempted to help
others to freedom. I know that his
songs personally
affected me deeply and I felt that he might have
'understood.' So much so, that I
attended one of his
1996 concerts at the St. Louis Riverport
Amphitheatre and sent one of my books,
STARSHINE: One
Woman's Valiant Escape From Mind Control, backstage to
him. However, I suspect
that the stagehand
that took the sparkling package from me never
delivered it to Elton, since I never
received his
response.
We Are the World
Writing this
chapter also brings to mind the video done in the 80's by
a group of famous actors,
actresses, and
singers, who met in Hollywood with the special purpose
of recording WE ARE THE
WORLD. An urgent
common concern brought these entertainers, normally
competitive with one other,
together and they
set aside their differences to serve a higher
purpose; bringing in funds for starving
children in Africa.
The line they sang, "We're saving our own lives,"
may be truer for some of these
individuals than
they can 'think' about due to the mind control some of
them may be under.
This information I
have provided to you may change the way you look at
many of Hollywood's
finest celebrities,
many of whom myself and others have witnessed being
victimized at the hands of the
ruthless people who
control others for reasons of power, money and
domination, with the end result
serving their
agenda - the New World Order. I beg for you to question
and look into these issues I bring
before you, because
the lives of many that are as yet in bondage rely
on it.
If we truly serve
others as we have been spiritually called to do, and
understand that what we do
for others we do
for ourselves and ultimately for God, then we must
join together to stop this control of
the minds of some
of our most talented and creative people. Together,
we can help create a world that is
safe and free,
where creative and talented children are safe to grow up
without the fear of being owned or
manipulated by the
hidden group of individuals who now are in power on
our planet - a group who does
not believe in
freedom, but instead is invested in totalitarianism,
torture, mind control and human
slavery. Please
help me expose and stop this insane form of abuse and
hidden slavery and set the
captives free!
"The Spirit of the
Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed
me to bring good tidings to
the afflicted; he
has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim
liberty to the captives, and the
opening of the
prison to those who are bound." -- Isaiah 61:1
203
Brice Taylor -
Thanks for the Memories
Chapter Twenty-two:
Prince Phillip, Prince Charles, and Princess Di
"I Know You, l
Walked With You Once Upon A Dream"
For mind control
purposes, a song from Disney's Sleeping Beauty was
instilled into my
programming to keep
all memory of hidden events separate from my
conscious mind. The lyrics as I
remembered them
reminded me, "I know you, I walked with you once upon a
dream. I know you, with
you in my arms
you're so familiar again... " I was programmed to feel
familiar with kings, princes, and
presidents and this
song served to reorient me into my dream reality,
the one that existed Over the
Rainbow.
I was prostituted
to Prince Phillip and also Prince Charles. On one
occasion, Prince Charles
explained to me
that royalty are given the right and reserve to have
affairs outside of the royal family. He
said it was in the
interest of their country for the royals to remain
balanced and happy, and that was
done by whatever
means needed in order to accomplish that. The
requirement was that they were
discreet and didn't
get caught.
I was prostituted
to both Phillip and Charles in Los Angeles on
different occasions and was set up
with them at other
times in Washington, DC, London, and New York.
Prince Phillip thought he was
God's gift to the
world, and was arrogant and egotistical. Charles was
much different. He was quieter,
more somber, and
more controlled. The Council told me it was important
for me to form a sexual bond
with him.
Charles liked to
talk a lot in bed. He would lay on his side with his
head cradled in his hand and
talk and talk to
me. He said that he was very lonely, that Di never
talked to him about anything of
substance and that
they just didn't seem to be matched that way. He
told me that they had good sex but
that was it, and
that he had trouble getting her to act like a member
of the royal family was suppose to
act so they could
lead their country in the way it needed to be run. He
said that she didn't have much
depth and was more
interested in how she looked than anything else and
he said, "Frankly, that bores
me."
While I listened to
him, his sharp nose, dark hair on his chest and the
little crop of dark hair right
at the small of his
back grooved indelible memory in my mind files.
After the first time we were together,
he liked to be on
top when we had sex. I don't think he knew I was a
programmed slave. He just treated
me like a trusted
confidant, a friend, a lover, but sex was never
paramount to him.
Charles explained
to me that it was important for the royal family to
have a good public image in
order to wield the
power they have, to lead the masses. He said that if
the royal family was seen as weak
and unstable, it
could lead to a level of chaos within the English
society. He said if a royal family could
maintain stability,
through whatever means necessary, then it was for
the good of the whole country. So
said Charles.
The Rockefeller
family set me up with Charles and I was instructed to
just be a good listener with
him and to report
back to them what he said. They wanted to know what
his dreams, desires, likes and
dislikes were so
that they could use that information in the future to
control him, and ultimately, his
country. They
wanted to know his "Achilles heel" so that they could use
his weakness to their advantage
in regard to
political and business dealings between our countries.
They arranged a
trip for the royal couple to come to the United States
and they took great care to
set everything up
just right for their enjoyment. I was used as a
guide, a person they could turn to for
anything they
needed or wanted. I was directed to anticipate whatever
needs they might have and fulfill
204
them. I was
assigned to purchase Disney toys for the boys that were
left in their room upon arrival.
Food, clothes,
rest, massages, shopping, entertainment, anything they
wanted, I arranged it for them.
They paid for Diana
to get the full treatment at a beauty salon during
the time set up for me to target
Charles.
They put me with
Charles while the rest of the royal family was being
entertained and I was told to
tend to him. As
always, they told me that he was shy and, because of
his position, could not ever make a
sexual advance to a
public individual. So, they explained to him that I
was a trusted and safe person, and
in turn instructed
me that all I had to do was to come on to him; he
knew the door was open and safe, all
I had to do was
lead the way.
While Di was off
getting coiffeured and someone tended the children, I
was told to lunch with
Charles in the room
and then to come on to him. When it was time, I
reached out and touched the white
dress shirt that
covered his chest and when I saw that this created a
favorable reaction, I reached out and
took hold of his
hand. I was trained that a man must feel sure that you
care about him and will not
humiliate or make
fun of him in any way. He was to feel 100% safe with
me. So during lunch, I listened
very carefully to
everything he said and kept building him up,
complimenting him and showing him that
I really understood
what he was telling me completely. He seemed to
need and like that a lot. Towards
the end of lunch,
he picked up my hand and kissed the inside of my palm
and told me how wonderful it
was to have someone
he could talk to, someone who really understood. He
explained that there were not
many people he
could talk to like this in his country, because it could
leak to other people and then it
could cause him and
his country many problems. Prince Charles said that
it had been explained how
trusted I had been
to the Rockefellers over the years and how he could
also trust me, that I would keep
private "our
meeting," he called it. He was very sincere and acted like
he meant every word he said.
Evidently, Charles
really trusted the Rockefellers. I don't know why.
After he kissed my hand, I reached
over and put my
hand on his face and reiterated that he was safe with
me and that I was thoroughly
briefed on what his
needs would be while he was visiting, and that he
could totally relax knowing that
anything that was
said or done would remain private and protected. With
sincere gratitude he said, "That
means the world to
me. It is not often that I am allowed this
privilege."
The royal family
was on a schedule and I only had a couple of hours to
do the job I was assigned to
do on Charles.
After listening and a sexual rendezvous, I took him into
the shower and soaped him down
and rinsed him off,
then helped him out, dried him off, and brought him
some clothes. He seemed
comfortable with
all of the attention and I acted like I loved nothing
more than doing everything for him.
While he combed his
hair he explained to me while he was looking into
the mirror, that he was not used
to the luxury of
being alone in this way, that at home he always had
servants attending to him and so he
really liked the
time we had together. Taking his hand, I delivered the
message that I was preprogrammed
to deliver, laying
the groundwork my controllers dictated for future
encounters. I
explaining that I
deeply enjoyed the time we had spent together and
looked forward to many other such
joyous occasions!
He smiled and said yes, and I let myself out of the
room. There were security men in
the hallway by
their suite and I smiled at them, neatly redressed now
in my navy suit and heels, as I
walked to the
elevator.
My instructions
after I left Charles were to go to a room down on
another floor and let myself in
with a key I would
find in my pocket. Once in the room, I picked up the
phone and dialed a number and
began telling all
the details of our conversation and time together.
For all I know, I may have been
talking to a tape
recorder on the other end. Without making any other
conversation, I finished my
debrief and hung
up. Then I went down to the lobby. The hotel was very
elegant, with waterfalls, wood,
glass, and brass
decorating the lobby. I do not know the name or where
I actually was.
Charles' repeated
disclosure of the vital importance of his
relationship with Di remaining stable
for the good of his
country was the information Kissinger and the
Rockefellers needed to form their
205
strategy. I believe
that now armed with this information, they had the
perfect way to destabilize
England, through
destabilizing the royal couple's relationship. So they
did just that and began devising a
plan to destroy Di
and Charles' relationship from the inside out. Over
time, little seeds of doubt were
planted,
originating from Kissinger's and the Rockefeller's strategic
plan, at times delivered through me,
about the royal
couple's relationship and about Di to Charles and about
Charles to Di, and they may have
worked them both
from other angles. I know that they had me give
certain messages that were meant to
be a wedge between
the two. They were always subtle, never aimed
directly at them, but the inferences
were there.
For example, I was
sent in to talk to Di. They had me befriend her by
giving me information about
her that I could
'drop' at a time when we were alone. I did and she
opened up and began crying, which is
just exactly what
they wanted her to do. Then I talked to her and
helped her feel better. They wanted a
bond to be set in
place for later use so they could get inside
information about England. Even more they
wanted to know how
they could "get to Charles" in order to influence
him without him knowing. I was
with them several
times and each time spent time alone with Di talking
about her difficulties. She
seemed starved to
talk to someone who understood and I had been armed
with enough information to be
that understanding
person. Our controllers wanted the familiarity to
'breed' in each succeeding visit so
they could have
more and more of a doorway in to influence the royals.
I overheard our controllers
arguing about using
me with her again. They said, "We can't risk having
her become a familiar face." To
which another man
reported, "She's a long way from home and so is Di
and they will never meet again by
accident in a
million years. You worry too much. These things always
have a way of working themselves
out."
So, the other man
said, "Okay, okay, we'll use her, but just one more
time."
I could relate to
Di. We were both married, had children and shared
some common ground,
including having
husbands that were not sexually passionate and seemed
disinterested in that way. They
were hoping to be
able to keep Di involved because she was so easy to
access - as they termed it, "looselipped."
But that isn't how
it worked out. After Di was comfortable with me, I
was programmed to
disclose that I
wished I had a husband who liked to be very sexual with
me. All the while my
programmers knew
from my report of Charles' sexual encounter that he
was not a sexually motivated
man. Then they
could go about directing their media arms to capture and
detail any problems that came
between the royal
couple, even at times creating problems that were not
there in the first place - creating
suspicions on both
sides. It was an ugly strategy, but looking back, it
worked. The monarchy was
destabilized by
this plan.
"We cannot live
only for ourselves. A thousand fibers connect us with
our fellow men; and along
these fibers, as
sympathetic threads, our actions run as causes, and
they come back to us as effects. " --
Herman Melville
206
Brice Taylor -
Thanks for the Memories
Chapter
Twenty-three: They Stole My Baby
London, England was
cold in the winters and was very cold and dreary.
Many of the buildings I
was taken into were
made out of grey stone, and everything took on a
greyish cast. Maybe that was due to
the ominous
experiences I had while in England. There were a lot of
ornate black wrought iron fences
around estates;
even the parkways and parks often had fences
surrounding them. I accompanied Reagan
to London many
times. I overheard that these were important assignments
in facilitating diplomatic
relations.
This time Ronald
Reagan had on a black overcoat and we were walking
across the street to visit an
older lady with
dark grey hair. She wore a hat and very sturdy shoes
and a suit. I think she was the Queen
of England, or at
least someone of importance. It was not Margaret
Thatcher, though. She explained that
she could walk
around in her country without Secret Service agents but
chose wisely the time she went
on "outings," she
called them. She had a medium size dog that she took
when she went on walks. She was
very opinionated
and very dominating. For some personal reason she
didn't like Nancy at all and said
that Ron and I made
such a handsome twosome that it was a shame that
Ron and I weren't a couple. She
told him that Nancy
made him look older than his years, and that a baby
born of Reagan and I would
make her happy. She
said she felt there was some special chemistry and
she wanted it badly. She was
convinced that I
was Sharon Weatherby and that I had excellent lineage.
All this bloodline stuff really
meant a lot to her
and for whatever reason, I was the target. Maybe the
Council influenced her and told
her I was someone I
wasn't. I don't know.
We gathered to talk
in a sitting room with all white wicker furniture.
There was a bird in a large
ornate metal cage
and there were lots of beautiful plants around. I
remember how she and everyone
around her spoke in
English accents. They talked about the PLO and
other news of the day, but I couldn't
retrieve all the
words in order to more completely remember their
conversations. She had seen my
capabilities; the
mind files, the profound statements delivered in
public (pre-programmed though they
were by the
Council), the wit (pre-programmed by the Council) and she
felt I had some extraordinary
genetic structure
and she wanted some of it. She viewed this breeding
thing like people think about horse
and dog breeding.
She was really into it and she had her mind set on
having an offspring of mine coupled
with Reagan, whom
she thought was the perfect father.
There were many
meetings where this subject was discussed and
eventually she got her wish. The
child I bore for
her was the result of many meetings of negotiations
over the years. The talks started out
slowly as she and
Reagan took small safe steps toward defining their
otherwise preposterous scheme.
The child that was
born for the Queen was to be brought up in a strict
environment and groomed
for later marriage
into the royal family. It was a baby that was
delivered into the arms of some of her
people.
They said this baby
was a gift of diplomacy between our countries.
Reagan called the baby a peace
offering to show
the United Kingdom our willingness to extend a hand
toward future relations with their
country.
When the doctors
were ready to deliver my not yet full-term baby, I was
taken aboard an airplane.
They laid me on a
cot-like gurney made of white canvas on a metal
frame. There was an IV bottle
hanging over my
head and I was afraid it was going to swing off its
stand as the plane was entering
turbulent weather.
I couldn't say anything, because I had a mask over
my face.
207
My baby was born in
the air, delivered by doctors dressed in surgical
gowns and masks. They
had utensils and
long-shaped stainless steel bowls with alcohol or some
type of sterile solution for their
utensils. There
were no nurses. Just two doctors. The baby was also to
be part of some experiment. As I
flashbacked,
abreacted, and retrieved this memory I felt the uterine
contractions and pain, my tailbone
hurt and stung
because they gave me a spinal injection. I didn't have
the baby naturally; I heard the
doctors say the
word "epidural," but at the time didn't know what that
word meant.
After the baby was
born and the plane landed, one doctor wrapped him
all up in a thin white
blanket and soon
headed out the door of the plane with him. I screamed
with everything I was: "NO! NO!
NO!" But I don't
know if I was able to scream the words out loud or if
I was just screaming inside. Tears
were streaming from
my face. I looked out the airplane window and saw a
dark-haired man and a
woman with
medium-length blonde hair standing together on the tarmac.
The doctor who took my tiny
newborn son from me
handed him first to the dark-haired man who, in
turn, handed him into the arms
of the woman. The
doctor then pointed for them to go on and I thought I
would die when this couple
took my baby and
walked away.
When the doctor
reboarded the airplane he and the other man said I made
a wise choice and
made a great
contribution to society. I didn't know what they meant. I
hadn't made any choice. As they
spoke of matters of
national security, I was becoming increasingly more
hysterical. The doctor injected a
drug into the IV
bottle that instantly put me asleep. The next thing I
knew I was dressed in a grey sweat
suit and groggily
walked out of the airplane to my mom who was dressed
in a red sweat shirt, white
blouse and red
pants. She took my face in her hands and said, "How's my
sweetie?" and she helped me to
the car.
I overheard the
doctor say the baby was of good size despite the fact
that he had been taken so
early. All I could
see was the top of his beautiful little head because
he was wrapped so tightly in the
blanket, but my
love for him was and still is intense and powerful. He
was part of me, but they took him
away. I never saw
my baby again. I was grateful when they drugged me
out of my misery because the
feelings and
experience were overwhelming and I couldn't take anymore.
My body started shaking
uncontrollably and
I was freezing but they said it was okay - normal in
fact. It sure didn't feel normal. I
was in a daze for a
few days, quiet, withdrawn and very, very
depressed. My soul ached. It still does
today.
The grief is
totally encompassing. When I think of him I still cry
uncontrollably. How could they
steal my baby? How
could they?
"Jesus wept." --
John 11:35
"Thus says the
Lord: Refrain your voice from weeping, and your eyes
from tears; for your work
shall be rewarded,
says the Lord and (your children) shall return from
the enemy's land. And there is
hope in your
future, says the Lord; your children shall come again to
their own country." -- Jeremiah
31:1617
208
Brice Taylor -
Thanks for the Memories
Chapter
Twenty-four: USC: Higher Education or Mind Control
Uncle Charlie
Donates $4.7 Million to USC
In 1973, as Uncle
Charlie greased the way, Craig entered University of
Southern California (USC)
Dental School and
commuted everyday from our home in Agoura to downtown
Los Angeles. As I was to
later find out,
Charles Lilley Horn had quite a name at USC, as well as
in San Francisco at the United
States Mint. He
personally knew members of the Federal Reserve Board.
As I discovered, he was
connected to
Federal Reserve Bankers; old money, and Hearst newspaper
type of old money friends.
Uncle Charlie was a
direct link with the Council through the money he
was able to generate. He was
revered by those
who knew him as a trusted businessman, a family man
who was adept in politics and
investments. I
believe Charles Horn was the single most important
family link to my control by the
global elitists.
The reality of what I was involved in was carefully
concealed every Christmas when I
dutifully sent a
box of See's Candy to him and his wife at their winter
home in Scottsdale, Arizona. I was
drugged and
programmed that this act of gift-giving reminded me to
forget, which it did for many years.
And, I was
programmed to watch the popular television series, Charlie's
Angels, in my controllers'
attempt to cover
and scramble my memory.
Charles Lilley
Horn, as Chairman of the Board, retained control of
Federal Cartridge Corporation
for many years
until relinquishing control around 1970 to his progeny,
Charles B. Horn and William B.
Horn, presumably
his sons. Federal Cartridge Corporation is a munitions
manufacturer, based in
Minneapolis,
Minnesota (address: 2700 Foshay Tower, Minneapolis, MN).
Dun & Bradstreet Million
Dollar Directory
indicates that Federal Cartridge Corporation was a
long-time subsidiary of the Olin
Foundation, Inc.
headquartered in New York City. The Foundation
Directory shows that Charles Lilley
Horn also was
President of the Olin Foundation, Inc. throughout the
1960's and 1970's.
The Olin
Foundation, Inc. (currently F.W. Olin Foundation, Inc.) was
established as a charitable
trust in 1938 for
Franklin W. Olin, founder of Olin Industries, which
later merged with the Mathieson
Chemical Company,
eventually becoming the Olin Corporation of today.
During the 1970's, the Olin
Corporation was
interlocked with the Chase Manhattan Corporation, whose
Chairman was David
Rockefeller (see
diagram). The Rockefellers, of course, have long had
controlling interest in the United
States Federal
Reserve, which as many people know is actually a private
corporation, with shareholders.
According to The
Foundation Directory (1995), the F.W. Olin Foundation,
Inc. (with William B.
Horn, Vice
President) listed its assets at $317 million (as of 1993).
The Directory describes the
Foundation's
purpose and activities as "primarily for constructing and
equipping new academic
buildings and
libraries at private four-year, accredited
degree-granting colleges and universities..." In the
book, Understanding
Foundations (1967), the Olin Foundation, Inc. is
similarly described; it states,
"Many grants in
education are made, especially for construction. Grants
show a preference for the field
of engineering...
Recent recipients have been the University of
Southern California..." (among others).
This information
was confirmed by the USC Office of University
Advancement, indicating two grants
given to USC in the
1960's by the Olin Foundation: (1) In 1964, $2.4
million to fund the Olin Hall of
Engineering and (2)
in 1965, $2.5 million to fund the Vivian Hall of
Engineering. With these donations,
it is no wonder
that Uncle Charlie (Charles Lilley Horn), who was
President of the Olin Foundation at the
time, was popular
at USC, particularly with the Engineering School
which is currently located in Olin
Hall.
Interestingly,
during the 1960's the USC School of Engineering was
transformed into a major
research facility
and expanded into several new areas, including
biomedical engineering. Today the
Engineering School
boasts several academic departments and research
centers. One such research
facility is the
Center For Neural Engineering, which lists among its
research activities: (1) Hardware
209
Models of
HippocampusToward Brain Implants as Neural Protheses for
Memory Loss; (2) USC Brain
Project; and (3)
USC DARPA (Defense Advance Research Project Agency)
UltraScale Computing Projectto
name a few.
Apparently, the USC Brain Project is sponsored by the
National Institute of Mental
Health (NIMH) and
the National Aeronautical and Space Administration
(NASA). It is also worth
mentioning that the
DARPA project involves "Hybrid Neuron-Silicon
Computational Systems For
Pattern
Recognition" which includes the interface of electrode arrays
with hippocampal tissue slices and
neuron cultures, as
well as growth techniques for cortical neurons on
silicon substrates, and even
technologies to
interface silicon-based computer systems and
neurobiological systems. In 1998, the USC
Alfred E. Mann
Institute for Biomedical Engineering received a donation
of $100 million from
biomedical
entrepreneur Alfred E. Mann, for whom the Institute is
named. The donation was said to be
one of the largest
in the history of higher education, and is second
largest ever to USC, behind $120
million donated by
Walter H. Annenberg to the School of Communication.
Standing back and
looking at this patchwork picture painted above,
highlighted by advanced
research projects
in biomedical engineering and incredible amounts of
funding, one cannot help but be
struck by the
obvious potential at the USC School of Engineering for
major advancements in the
technology and
application of MIND CONTROL!
HELLOOOOOO!
Now, ask yourself,
why is DARPA (American Defense) operating in a
university setting? What are
they actually
researching? What do you think is really going on?
One can see that
foundations don't always make donations to university
academic departments
that one might
expect, based on the donors' apparent line of business.
Another example is the H. Leslie
Hoffman and Elaine
S. Hoffman Foundation, with assets approaching $20
million. H.L. Hoffman was
the CEO of the
Hoffman Electronics Corporation, a long-time Los
Angeles-based company since 1932, in
the business of
manufacturing various electronic devices, generally
entertainment related (including
special ones for
government agencies). The USC Hoffman Medical Research
building is named after its
donor Elaine S.
Hoffman.
The Hoffman
Engineering Company, located in Minnesota, is listed as a
division of Uncle
Charlie's Federal
Cartridge Corporation. Hoffman Engineering makes
metal and composite enclosures
for electrical and
electronic controls, instruments and components. I
wonder if they made covers that
house those nasty
ECT devices I was regularly zapped with? To date, I
haven't yet determined a linkage
between Hoffman
Electronics and Hoffman Engineering, but that Hoffman
Medical Research connection
sounds promising.
Apparently later on, Federal Cartridge and Hoffman
Engineering merged to become
Federal Hoffman
Corporation (FC Holdings, Inc.). In 1988, the company
was purchased by the
Minnesota-based
Pentair Corporation, increasing Pentair's total sales
by nearly 40%, and is currently
listed as a
subsidiary of Pentair in the Directory of Corporate
Affiliations. After that transaction, Uncle
Charlie's relations
no longer appear among Federal Cartridge
Corporation's corporate officers, but
instead have been
listed among the officers of the Olin Foundation,
according to the Foundation
Directory.
Uncle Charlie
continued to be an invisible influence in my life. But
even though I was unaware of
this, in my public
and conscious reality I was still working as a
dental assistant, though unknowingly
placing dental
implants (some type of miniature electronic
transmitters) into the teeth of unsuspecting
patients, without
my own conscious knowledge and awareness. My four day
work week for Dr. Jacoby, a
USC dental school
graduate, was extremely productive, for him. While I
did all the hands-on dental work
with his patients,
including fitting and cementing bands, making
archwires and headgears, removing
braces, making
retainers, and performing general check-ups, Dr. Jacoby
sat in his private office and
either read
magazines or worked on his computer. At 22 years old, Craig
and I had no idea that our lives
210
were totally
controlled and not our own; nor could we have known that
we were living our lives under
total and complete
mind control.
Who Are the
Annenbergs?
Moses Annenberg
made his fortune during the Prohibition days by
creating an information
monopoly on which
bookies and gambling mobsters depended. His cartel
controlled a nationwide
racetrack news wire
service, The Trans-National, headquartered in
Chicago. The street savvy he gained
first as a newsboy,
then later as a high executive within the William
Randolph Hearst media empire, gave
Annenberg the
wherewithal to pull off his racing news coup, and made
him one of America's wealthiest
men. However, in
1939, Annenberg was convicted of tax fraud and was
forced to give up the wire service
aspect of his
business. This brought about a battle to take over
control, which resulted in several
sensational
murders, including that of Bugsy Seigel, who, as Al
Capone's west-coast agent of Trans-
American, managed
to wrest control over Trans-National through the
strong arm tactics of his 'enforcer,'
Mickey Cohen.
Annenberg's media empire then continued on as Triangle
Publications and included the
Daily Racing Form.
By 1946, the dust
cleared, but all the turbulence soon brought about a
Congressional investigation
into organized
crime in America, headed by Senator Estes Kefauver's
Committee. Following its hearings,
the Committee
concluded that mob-control of the racing news wire
service was undermining America
and represented the
heart of mob operations. During 1950 and 1951 the
Kefauver Committee heard from
600 witnesses,
"...including most of the powerful gangsters of the day.
It was an astonishing spectacle.
Never before did so
many criminals pass in review before the general
public; never before were so many
put on display
singly or in tandem as members of a single community of
outlaws." (Albert Fried, 1993)
During this time,
Walter H. Annenberg had dropped out of the Wharton
School of Business at the
University of
Pennsylvania in about 1930 to join his father's company,
as a bookkeeper. In 1942, he
became the
company's president. As head of Triangle Publications,
Walter Annenberg started two new
hugely successful
publications, TV Guide, America's best selling weekly
magazine, and Seventeen
magazine, and
continued in his father's path as a media mogul. In 1988,
Rupert Murdoch, a leader in the
media industry,
purchased TV Guide, Seventeen, and Daily Racing Form
from Annenberg's company for
$3 billion. The
following year, Annenberg established the charitable
trust known as The Annenberg
Foundation. Its
current assets are listed as $2.6 billion.
According to the
Foundation Directory, the Foundation's current primary
purpose is to support
"early childhood
and K-12 education (including public school
restructuring and reform)." In 1993,
Annenberg announced
a $550 million gift, the largest private donation
ever to benefit education,
providing a series
of grants for school reform projects geared toward
improving elementary and
secondary
education. Regarding this donation, the Los Angeles Times
(Dec. 17, 1993) reported:
"Although White
House officials refused to give details of the awards,
three groups are expected to get a
major share of the
money: the New American Schools Development Corp. in
Alexandria, VA [which is
not far from the
CIA's Langley headquarters]; the Coalition of
Essential Schools at Brown University in
Providence, R.I.;
and the Education Commission of the States in Denver
[boy, that area has been in the
news recently,
first, the JonBenet Ramsey murder mystery and now the
Littleton school massacre]. The
New American
Schools Development Corp. was begun in 1991
[coincidentally, just before the 1992
election year] by
business leaders and George Bush Administration
officials who believed that they could
develop more
effective and creative learning programs outside the
traditional public school system [I
guess George's
presidential lap would qualify in that case]. This
colossal donation came on the heels of
one just months
prior, a gift of $365 million to four colleges,
including the record $120 million donation
to the University
of Southern California, as mentioned earlier, another
$120 million to Annenberg's alma
mater, the
University of Pennsylvania, $100 million to Peddie School,
Annenberg's preparatory school in
New Jersey, and $25
million to Harvard University [Henry's old stomping
ground]. After creating the
211
Annenberg Institute
for School Reform, the Santa Monica - Malibu
Unified School District received a
$500,000 grant from
the Los Angeles Annenberg Metropolitan Project.
Prior to that, according to the
L.A. Times (Jan 24,
1996), Annenberg had given $53 million to fund a
fiveyear school reform project in
Los Angeles County,
purportedly "to begin work in elementary schools to
wipe out [cultural] differences
between the two
groups [i.e. Santa Monica and Malibu kids]." The School
District, after receiving a $5
million share of
project funds, reached an agreement with Rand Corp., a
Santa Monicabased 'think tank,'
to evaluate the
projects impact on the District's 10,500 students. Rand
Corp. has long been known for its
technoinformation-oriented
projects, and is reputed to have
participated in 'MKULTRA-like' projects
during the 60's.
Note two of its studies: P-2575 "Long-lasting Effects
of LSD on Certain Attitudes in
Normals: An
Experimental Proposal" (1962) and P-2676 "Experimental
Designs for Investigating
Conditioning"
(1966). In its Index to Selected Publications of The Rand
Corporation, it lists among its
areas of research
investigation in the field of psychology, the
following: "Automata," "Laboratory Man-
Machine Studies,"
and "Sleep Learning" - many projects under these
headings appear to have mind
control
applications.
The Annenberg
Estate is a sprawling 300-acre tract, located near the
intersection of Frank Sinatra
Boulevard and Bob
Hope Drive, in Rancho Mirage, California (near Palm
Springs) and features a private
golf course,
swimming pool, and several lakes and ponds. Nicknamed
"Sunnylands," it has been the
magical destination
of the British Royalty, as well as the simply rich
and famous, and is considered a
second "Camp David"
by U.S. Presidents. Walter Annenberg established
his friendship with the British
Royals back during
the Nixon Administration, when he had accepted the
post as U.S. Ambassador to the
Court of St. James,
Great Britain. Later, during the Reagan
Administration, his wife, Mme. Ambassador
Leonore Annenberg,
functioned as chief of Protocol to the White House.
Their tie to Prince Charles was
solidified during
his visit to Sunnylands in 1974, when he reputedly
attempted to play the private golf
course polo-style
from his golf cart. Bob Hope, whose home is in Palm
Springs, was a regular guest at the
Annenberg Estate.
He was valued for his many contacts and his
contribution to the Annenberg's social
register, which at
times included Henry Kissinger. Incidentally, Bob
was knighted by Queen Elizabeth
several years ago,
as was "Sir George Bush."
Given my personal,
though mind-controlled, involvement with Pete Wilson
and others, in altering
the California
school system curriculum to include mind control (which
I will discuss further in a later
chapter), I believe
my experiences reveal a mass plan for the
'enhancement' of many children in ways
that do not respect
their freedoms. I invite the public to help me
bring together the pieces of this puzzle,
in a way that will
protect future generations.
USC Dental School
1973 -1977
A big part of what
I thought was our entertainment during my husband's
dental school years was
frequenting USC
football games. When we attended the games, I was told
to dress immaculately, and be
ready with
carefully groomed hair, make-up, and polished fingers and
toenails for the team. During the
game I was
programmed to stand up from my seat in the stadium and walk
out through the tunnel to my
left. My husband,
now a USC Dental School student, stayed in his seat
just like he did when we went to
Dodger games. I
walked to the locker room where the team went during
half time. Lots of times I didn't
even see whom I was
servicing. I just felt like a sucking machine. On
one such occasion the coach dressed
me in a little
cheerleading skirt and had sex with me in front of the
mind-controlled football robots that
needed extra
incentive to work harder, or as the coach said to them,
"Step right up and enjoy the pussy.
Get it while it's
hot," he'd say, like he was a street vendor and I was
a piece of meat. Then he would
caution the
players, "But only if you perform today." If the players
did well, performed to the coach's
standards on the
field, they got to have sex with a slave. If they did
really well, they got to have one of us
for the evening. I
never stayed all night but entertained for the
evening. I don't know where my husband
went but he was
waiting, later that night in the dark, for me in his
Datsun 280 Z. There were also USC
basketball
mind-controlled robots. I had to have sex with one of them
in the locker room after a game we
212
went to one
evening. It was just a quickie since they didn't view the
basketball team as important as
the football team.
O.J. Simpson was
their star quarterback, their prize athlete, a real
machine. He played at most of
the USC football
games that we attended. I remember hearing everyone
talk about how the coach bought
him an expensive
new car. One time Henry gave some advice to the coach
on programming that he
appreciated.
One night at an
alumni meeting, the coach spoke to a group of older
alumni men around a table.
They were all
smoking and drinking at this so-called meeting. The coach
said, "This young lady has a
very wealthy uncle
and she's a Trojan all the way." Then another man
stepped forward and helped me
onto the table as
they started playing the song "the stripper" and I
took my street clothes off and danced
in front of these
drunken men. I was around 22. The men in charge
seemed to all know who I was and
where I came from.
They seemed to regard me more as my Uncle Charlie's
than as my husband's.
After I stripped, a
man helped me off the table and one drunken USC
alumni yelled, "Put her back
up on the table and
let's see her put her clothes back on. If she's
gotta' put them back on, let's watch." So
I climbed back onto
the table and a man kindly put a chair up there for
me to sit on because I had nylons
to put back on and
it would have been hard to do standing up. They were
screaming and hollering which
clothes to leave
until last so I did as they said. On the way out I
kissed the coach on the cheek and smiled
and waved to all
the men as they whistled and cheered. They were
drunker than skunks. I was trained to
always kiss the man
I was bolstering on the cheek and be affectionate
with him in front of the other men.
But if the wives
were there I was to remain discreet. There were
different rules for different situations.
After that, I was
passed all over USC, not as much among the
mind-controlled robot students as the dirty
old' alumni men. I
don't think the men knew I was under mind control,
but I believe USC Coach Reddin
did.
I was prostituted
to the Dean of the Dental School after Craig got
accepted. Dean Walker and
Dean Crawford also
seemed to be 'friends' of Charles Horn. I was
prostituted to Coach Reddin, also, at
times, like I cited
above, in front of the football team for incentive.
And there were a lot of other
important persons
at USC in the main university, aside from the dental
school, whom I was directed to
"cater to." Some of
these men seemed to know all about my Uncle
Charlie's family. I felt strange because,
depending on which
personality I was keyed into, I didn't think of him
as my family and didn't ever see
him consciously,
yet all these men referred to me as Mr. Horn's niece,
Susan. I 'serviced' administrators
at the main college
and heads of different departments. Usually, I was
briefly introduced to them in their
offices and then
after a football game or on an evening when I thought
Craig and I were getting together
with some of his
classmates, I'd be taken to a hotel room to entertain
one or more of them. From what I
overheard and
understood, Uncle Charlie had a big role in providing
funding for the "furthering of
education at USC."
I believe a lot of his money went to further
research or mind control 'projects,' such
as different
members of the football team. USC had to be full of mind
control robots because USC was
granted huge sums
of money if they participated in the mind control
project. So, they participated in the
academic and sports
end of it in order to qualify for the grants. Plus,
of course, there were persons in
positions of
leadership at USC who were part of the 'elite' group.
Mind Control
Demonstrations
I was
"demonstrated" often at USC in front of doctors, scientists or
other professionals who were
'selected' to be a
part of the project. The moderator, who was a big,
tall, salt and pepper gray-haired man
introduced me as
Charles Horn's niece, the founder of the project.
Perhaps Uncle Charlie's money went
to start the
project at USC in the early 60's. Be that as it may, the
moderator showed his audience how I
worked by calling
out simple commands. Initially they weren't shown
much, because what the moderator
was attempting to
do was enlist the aid and future work of some of
these scientists and doctors. Half the
213
men present already
knew all about the project and were there secretly
posing as people who were
unaware. In
actuality they were planted to influence the moral
attitudes of the other individuals; they
would agree easily
in hopes that others would also agree, comply and
join their research program. It
usually worked as
they said, "To get them past any hang-ups they might
have in regard to the fact that
we're working with
humans instead of animals." Then they proceeded to
explain that the subjects were
originally
defective in some way or they would say, "all the results
are actually doing is enhancing the
person's abilities,
not hindering them in any way." They went to great
lengths to condition some of these
men slowly over the
first few meetings.
They demonstrated
my typing capabilites, "speed and accuracy," the
moderator said as he took
the paper from my
typewriter and showed it around the room. Then at
later meetings they would
demonstrate the
photographic memory enhancement or some other
'enhancement' this project had
provided me.
Initially, some of the men were not so much in favor of it
or were hesitant, so they were not
invited back to
subsequent meetings. In this way, the project's secrecy
was protected and not further
exposed to those
who wouldn't support it.
Uncle Charlie
seemed to have done his part by keeping the money coming
to them. The goal of the
group at USC was to
turn out thousands of "enhanced citizens" who would
do their work and function on
behalf of the
cause. Because Charlie was popular there, so was 1, and
they had plans to create some fine
physicians,
lawyers, dentists, oral surgeons, etc., who lived in or
around Los Angeles, so the likelihood of
them remaining in
the area was larger than the out-of-state people.
They planned to make good use of
them in the future
after they were secured in their professions. They
laughed as they said, "Hell, they'll
owe it to us for
making them some of the best professionals in their
fields, so they won't mind donating
some of their time
back to their old alma mater!" They needed a cluster
of professionals in and around
the Los Angeles
area to funnel illegal money through their business' at
a high level, but many didn't even
know their names
were attached to separate monies filtered in at
selected banks who were positioned for
just this purpose.
There was a whole financial framework set up to
support the project in the future, with
every year,
yielding more and more financial backing as the children
were born and used to create more
and more funding,
and then their children eventually would attend USC
or another affiliate school to
crank out more
"cooperative" professional graduates. I overheard a lot
while I was waiting at a meeting
to service some man
afterwards. But as instructed, I was recording into
a mind file, what was said at the
meeting in order to
report back to Henry.
Henry programmed
into my mind a map of the campus at USC because it was
such a large
campus. And when I
would have to go somewhere to service some man, he
would tell me to go to D-3, for
example, on the
campus map inside my head and I'd know where to go.
There was also a coding system
to keep track of
where I was to be at a certain time at a future date.
I went to many different buildings on
the USC campus for
various reasons; sex and to pass messages to
different scientists, professors or
doctors.
There were times I
was taken to a USC football game the whole entire
game, just for one man's
sexual pleasure.
Craig was so focused on the game that he never seemed
to notice I was all messed up or
that the perfect
make-up that I had arrived in was smudged or that my
hair was messed up. Some of the
men I serviced had
big motorhomes that they parked right outside the
stadium or on the grounds of the
Coliseum near USC
where they would picnic and party with their friends
before the game.
USC was a pilot
project in Los Angeles, one designed to harness and
utilize some of the finest
minds in the
country. These were the cream of the crop, some of the top
achievers from all over the
nation and they
wanted to utilize them. They felt that mind-controlled
doctors, especially surgeons, were
100% more accurate
than non-enhanced doctors and surgeons. They were
experimenting to see if by
showing young
interns how to do surgery visually, they could retain the
procedures. There was an inner
group of selected
students who were chosen based on their childhood
histories to be a part of the pilot
214
project. They felt
they were creating super humans and used them to do
their work. They used the
technology on my
husband and some of his lab partners. I know because I
heard Henry talk to Reagan
and other
"insiders" about this. He also made appointments for me to
get 'treatments' there. Some rooms
at USC marked
"authorized personnel only," at first seemed like dark
rooms for processing photos but
they weren't.
Instead they had chairs similar to dental chairs with
goggles for virtual reality. The chairs
vibrated, turned,
and became hot or cold and made it feel like the
scene I was seeing came alive. It
sounded like, and
the goggles made me feel that I was spinning in
space, swirling and spinning, and I got
very, very dizzy.
They exposed me to a lot of weird scary things. They
also played very loud, irritating
noises, like high
shrill screeches and 'nails on a chalkboard.' It was
often excruciating but my hands were
immobilized on the
chair arms so I couldn't reach up and pull the
headphones or goggles off; I
dissociated in
order to withstand it. These experiences happened to me
on days when I went to the
dental school in
order to have Craig work on my teeth. After the dental
work was completed, then I had
this other torture.
This was during the time Nixon was President, then
Ford. Reagan was Governor and
Kissinger was still
in office.
The Council heavily
used USC, and many 'enhanced individuals' were
turned out to work for 'the
cause' and
proliferate, creating more new little Trojans. Those working
for the New World Order saw
"the takeover"
wrapped up since the numbers would snowball each 20 to
25 years. My children would be
destined to
continue at a college or university that could 'further
their enhancement.' The Council also
knew how easily
they could shape the minds of the students at the
university, since their minds were as
yet uncluttered and
they could teach them.
These people were
heavily into breeding and genetic bloodlines. They
said things like, "Hell,
people pay more
attention to breeding their horses and dogs than they
do planning for their future
progeny," and that,
"People in the project, however, have been
fortunate enough to have that research
and selective
breeding done for them, so their offspring will be of the
highest quality. It's time we quit
wasting precious
space on this planet supporting inferior human life.
It's time for a quality race to people
this planet."
This was the
evolutionary step they saw. And they felt that, "since the
common man can't think to
bring about these
changes on his own, we who are capable are left with
the responsibility. Someone has
got to do it, or we
will be annihilated."
"Let us then
approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we
may receive mercy and find
grace to help us in
our time of need." -- Hebrews 4:16
215
Brice Taylor -
Thanks for the Memories, pp 186-211
Chapter
Twenty-five: Baby Monarchs are Born
Craig and I
decided, at least I thought we decided, that it was
important for me to take additional
means of birth
control to insure that we did not conceive a child while
I was working to put Craig
through dental
school. Dr. Stoddard referred me to Dr. Harold Lusk, a
Hollywood OB/GYN who, on my
first visit,
examined me and told me not to worry, that my female
reproductive organs were in such bad
condition that I
could never have children. I was so devastated that I
couldn't talk, much less question
the doctor. I drove
home numbed by the news. Later that afternoon,
sobbing through my words, I told
my husband that I
would never be able to have children.
Craig called Dr.
Lusk immediately and was told that I had a disease
called endometriosis, plus
fibriod tumors and
cysts, that the doctor explained were common in
upper and middle class women
when they put off
having children until later in life. I was only 22
years old! He told Craig that if he
performed surgery
on me it might be possible for me to get pregnant,
but that we would have to start the
process of trying
to have a child, immediately. Over the next year, I
had two major surgeries for what I
was told was to
correct the damage, and began the medical process of
dealing with what I was told was
infertility. When,
after the two so-called surgeries, I didn't get
pregnant, as a last resort, Dr. Lusk gave
me a fertility drug
called "clomid," and soon after, I became pregnant.
I continued working as a dental
assistant until I
went into labor and gave birth to our first child,
Kevin Craig Ford, on October 19, 1975.
The Birth of Kevin
Craig Ford
Late at night, as
my labor progressed, we were met at the hospital by a
group of anxious hospital
staff. Craig phoned
ahead alerting them that Susan Ford was on her way
to the hospital. They thought I
was Susan Ford, the
President's daughter. I guess this was
understandable due to the fact that Nixon had
stepped down and
Gerald Ford was now President. They thought I might
have twins, since I was so huge,
but after an
intense natural childbirth, Kevin was born and was
immediately taken away from me for
what seemed like a
very long time. They told me it was standard
procedure despite the fact that there
were no
complications. But later, suited men came into my hospital
room. One man took a syringe and
some type of drug
out of his briefcase and, while he was readying the
injection for me, I began
screaming, "Where's
my baby? Where's my husband? What did you do with
my baby?"
As he injected a
drug into my arm, he said in a calm, emotionless
voice, "You see me but you don't
see me. You can't
see. You can't see me." Waiting a moment for the drug
to take effect, he said, "You need
to calm down. .
.just calm down. . . down. . . down. . . down. . .
down... one ...two...three...going down
...deeper now
...going down. You're in the well, next to hell, and
everything that happens there, oh well,
or is it oh hell?
You're there."
Taking my pulse, he
continued, "This is our baby. Don't ever forget, it
belongs to us. You will hand
him over when cued.
You will not react. You will simply hand him over,
like he is a sack of groceries. Do
you understand? Nod
your head if you understand."
I nodded.
"Good, very good.
This way no one will have to get hurt, we don't want
that do we?"
I shook my head no.
I felt very drugged.
"Good," the man
said hypnotically. "Bad things happen if you don't
obey. Very bad things."
I felt very sick,
very tired, and very terrified. I couldn't breathe, I
was too scared. "They'll take my
baby," I thought,
terrified beyond words. Frantically I worried, "Who
will watch my baby, what are they
doing to him? Help,
I can't get help. No one can hear. I can't talk, I
can't tell. THIS IS hell!" Afterwards,
of course, I
couldn't recall or think about any of this traumatic event.
After a brief
hospital stay, Craig and I brought Kevin home and began
trying to parent this baby
who would not
suckle at my breast and cried non-stop.
216
I was programmed
not to lock the doors to our home in Agoura and often
men in suits let
themselves into our
house. They always had guns and sometimes a knife.
These men usually came in
threes - one to
handle and torture my baby, one to torture me, and one
to guard the door. The men said
they had a "little
treat for the baby." They went to Kevin's room and
took him out of his crib, where he
was sleeping. They
held Kevin in front of me and threatened me, with a
gun pointed to my temple. They
said that if I
didn't cooperate they would cut his penis off, or slit
his throat. At times they would cut him
and make him bleed.
Watching helplessly, as they hurt my baby, was the
single worst nightmarish feeling
and experience. I
wanted my husband to help me. I wanted him to protect
us, but he never did. Now, I
understand that he
never could.
The men did
different things each time they came to harass us. At times
they took Kevin into
another room and
while they had him, another man restrained me. I stood
silently and helplessly while I
tried to listen to
what was happening to my baby. The agonizing silence
was intensely painful and was
always followed,
after what seemed like forever, with the screams of a
crying baby in excruciating pain.
God, the screams
and the torturous crying were nearly unbearable to
listen to. I was so helpless. I could
not help myself,
nor could I help my son. Another time they asked me if
I wanted to see a "blue baby"
and then one of
them proceeded to stick his thumb down my baby's throat
until he turned blue. The lead
man always said
that if I cooperated and did a better job, they would
not have to subject my son to this.
But they tortured
us no matter how well I did my job.
And, it is said
that America is the land of the free and home of the
brave. Where oh where have we
strayed, so far
from the ideals set forth for this country?
One day my infant
son was swinging, peacefully sound asleep in his
wind-up swing, when they
came. They threw a
glass of water into Kevin's face to wake him up. He
cried and the suited man picked
him up and carried
him around the side of the garage out of my sight.
Dying inside, I waited anxiously,
hoping they
wouldn't hurt him again. After the silence came the
horrifying crying and screams. The
suited man carried
him back, his baby bootie was off and blood was
dripping all over. Holding a razor
blade up to me, he
said, "Solve this problem my little cutie." He
handed me my screaming son, who was
dripping with
blood. When they left, I took Kevin into the house and
sat with him on the couch, sobbing,
rocking him, and
trying to stop the bleeding with a towel I wrapped
around his little foot. He cried so
hard that he was
sweating and sniffling, gasping for air and sobbed
himself to sleep.
Our neighbor, Ron
Peters, was one of Governor Ronald Reagan's
bodyguards. He was usually
around when I was
used with Reagan in California, but didn't appear to
be the lead man. I never knew
when these men
would barge into my home. Sometimes they even arrived in
the middle of the night.
When this occurred,
I was programmed to walk to the front door and open
it, and the men in suits would
push their way in.
They often pushed me into Kevin's room and closed
the door. Craig always slept and
never woke up to
protect us. It was always the same torture, horror and
threats to both my baby and me,
and when they were
finished they would leave. These hellacious
experiences happened over and over and
over again. At
times, in those early years, there were instructions
given over the phone in the middle of
the night, but
later on there was programming done that paired tones on
the phone with different
instructions. I
responded robotically to the different tones I heard on
the phone. A programmed part of
me knew the
instructions that matched the tones and knew just what they
meant and how to respond.
As my programming
dictated, I robotically delivered my baby to my
father's welding shop where I
handed him over,
probably for further trauma programming, and left.
This kind of
trauma, tied to my maternal instinct, was enough to keep
all the programming intact.
It kept hidden the
awareness of my use in high security work for the
government and other secret
criminal activities
I was involved in without my knowledge, consent, or
awareness. In my conscious
217
waking state as
well as my sleeping hours, I was unable to think about
what was happening to me and
my family, but
after Kevin was born I began to have excruciating
migraine headaches. I also had
stomachaches,
colitis and constant pain in my female organs. My body
was expressing what I could not.
My husband
graduated from dental school and immediately set up a dental
practice on Topanga
Canyon Boulevard in
Woodland Hills. I continued to work out of our
house, doing dental lab work, so I
could stay at home
with our baby. I also began working part-time at
Craig's office. During the hours I
worked away from
home, Kevin was left at a babysitter's house in the
old neighborhood where I grew up
in Woodland Hills.
When he was out of diapers he filled a long-awaited
slot at Little Oaks Preschool, in
Thousand Oaks,
California, where he, and later, the rest of my children
were further ritually abused. The
fact that I had put
my baby on a preschool waiting list just weeks
after he was born was not a detail I
could reflect on.
Nor, did the fact that I left him at the home of this
babysitter who gave me a very dark,
gnawing eerie
feeling that wouldn't go away, ever hit me mentally. I
could not, due to the mind control I
was under,
consciously think about any of this.
Each year my
husband and I would attend the American Dental
Association's annual convention,
which was often
held in Anaheim, California. In addition to the regular
dental convention agenda, I was
programmed to
switch and then slip off to side rooms where I presented
the latest in mind control
technology for the
dentists who wanted to own the best assistants money
could buy, complete with all
the latest
enhancements available. Then at night we went to Disneyland.
On several of these nights the
park was closed to
the public at large, in order to entertain the
dentists and their families. Our
controllers never
missed an opportunity to combine functions so that
they could accomplish two or more
things at once. Of
course, at Disneyland my family and I were
reprogrammed and reconditioned in order
to preserve our
high level programming. Nothing was ever what it seemed
and often there was an
alternate agenda, a
parallel reality going on at the same time as a
publicly acceptable event.
Back in Agoura,
there were nights I was triggered to walk out of our
home on Valley Heights Drive
to the waiting car
of Secret Service agents or other men in suits in
order to be flown to many different
destinations.
Clothes were always provided and were kept separate from
those I wore at home, lest I gain
access to my memory
by the sight of clothing I had worn on a
"government mission."
Drugged
My husband's dental
training came in handy, as he was adept at
injecting my arm with drugs that
our controllers
wanted me to have. There also were flat, round, chalky
tasting tablets, the size of Rolaids,
that he gave me at
times before I was taken away by the Secret Service
agents. There were lots of drugs
given to me orally
and intravenously over the years and I never knew
what they were, I simply
dissociated and
complied when they were administered.
Around this time,
my husband announced that he had located a beautiful
piece of property in an
exclusive area of
Agoura, called "Old Agoura." Wanting to share his
find with me he drove me down a
little one-lane
country road that led to a secluded dirt road. We
entered a beautiful rural area, dotted
with huge oak trees
everywhere and there was a beautiful stream that
went through the land. Craig
introduced me to
Aaron Funk who was the owner of one whole side of the
street. This stranger
announced that he
was hand-selecting his neighbors for this exclusive
area, and we were to be among
them. This property
was located less than a block from the entrance of
Bob Hope's 2,324-acre Jordan
Ranch. Within days,
an agreement was struck, and although my husband
was fresh out of dental school,
and our funds were
extremely limited, he made a financial deal with Mr.
Funk to purchase the acre of
land for $78,000.
This close proximity to Bob Hope's property factored
into my family's abuse, heavily.
(See appendix for
map.)
218
When I was to be
used at parties - like at the Queen Mary the night of
a supposed dental party
we attended where I
was later taken away to service Bob Hope and Alan
Cranston - first Craig put some
liquid drug into my
drink and I drank it as instructed, "Drink it like
a shooter, one gulp and it's down."
Then Craig gave me
some drug from a plastic bag that he pulled out of
his suit pocket. He took the white
powdery substance
and wet it on a mirror, put the liquid into a syringe
and injected it into my arm. At
different times, he
gave me shots in a variety of places - my arms,
thighs, hip and buttocks. Sometimes he
tied a rubber
tourniquet very tightly around my arm before he gave me
the injection. These injections
hurt sometimes,
especially the ones in my lower arms near my wrist.
Sometimes he would try to use
veins there and the
shots really stung. My husband was an expert in
laying out this drug paraphernalia in
preparation for
readying me for an event. He knew my arm like a road
map and where to hit the good
veins.
A man in a suit
frequently delivered a supply of the drugs to our
house, intended for me. He left it
high in the top
corner of the garage, taped to the wall. I saw Craig
retrieve it from that location on a
number of occasions.
My husband also
injected me before porn was filmed. They were still
using me in porn in my 30's.
Craig injected me,
just before my use, oftentimes when I was in someone
else's car ready to be taken to
my assignment. If
one of the kids came up at that time, he would yell
at them to get back in the house.
Sometimes there was
a certain smell to certain drugs, almost like
sulfur. When porn was filmed in the
dental office, "Dr.
Ford" injected me or gave me some tablet or wafer
to eat, beforehand. I don't know
what the deciding
factor was as to whether the drug was given
interveniously or orally, but I sat in the
dental chair and
watched as my husband mixed up the powder on the
dental tray, liquidized it, placed
the liquid into a
syringe and then shot it into my arm. Only then could
they start the porn. I was always
drugged before
filming pornography.
As our children
grew older, they also were drugged before they were
used.
While retrieving
some of these drugged memories, I didn't feel any
emotions. It was as if I was
just a "doll" and
not real. Rag doll is a very common program theme
among female slaves. Bob used to
refer to me as his
doll.
It took two years
after retrieving these drug memories before I could
actually begin to feel the pain
and betrayal of
this act performed, unconsciously, but still, by my own
husband. And, until I had a
sufficient amount
of memories of our early cross-programming, I could
only see my husband as a
perpetrator, and
not as the victim of the same evil system that he
truly was.
The Birth of Our
Second Mind Controlled Child
Bob Hope's "Little
Filly" and George Bush's "Bush Baby"
In 1977 we decided,
or it was decided for us, that it was time to have
a second child. I kept saying I
wanted to go to
Maui to conceive this second child after dental school.
Actually, our controllers had
planned it all.
Craig and I arrived on Maui and he told me to dress for
dinner. Being in the mood to
celebrate, Craig
made us a Hawaiian cocktail in our hotel suite. It
tasted like a combination of a Mai Tai
and a Pina Colada,
and it must have been drugged. I drank the drink as
we watched the beautiful Maui
sunset from our
balcony. Then I went into our bedroom and dressed in a
beautiful clingy, long purple
dress and we went
out as my husband had told me I thought to dinner.
Instead of what I thought was
going to be a
lobster dinner, I ended up staying in a hospital for a
few days. In fact, I was flown from the
island in a
helicopter, with a facemask on through which I was
breathing some kind of drug, to a hospital
where they did
something to me (I believe Kelly was genetically
engineered) and I was in this hospital for
awhile. The doctors
wore green surgical scrubs and did something to me
vaginally. I don't know exactly
what. They had test
tubes, the glass kind that were very long and
slender, and they looked at each other
219
over their green
facemasks. They didn't speak out loud but their eyes
looked very serious. I had an IV
in my left arm that
was tied to a board with cotton and gauze around
it. After that night I became deathly
ill, severely
nauseated, and I don't really remember much else that
happened on that trip.
When Craig finally
picked me up after they finished with me, they had
me dress once again in my
purple dress, and
then Craig took me to the awaited lobster dinner. At
that time there was a switch in my
personality system
and I didn't (couldn't) consciously know what had
transpired. But that is how I really
got pregnant with
Kelly. Craig and I weren't allowed to have sex for
awhile, but were allowed to as they
said, "enjoy it in
your mind." Kelly was the classic blonde, blue-eyed
prototype, with large cheekbone
structure, and all
the right things they wanted for her to be sexual.
Years later, Sylvester Stallone would
comment that Kelly
looked to him like a little 'Bo Derek.' The UCLA
doctors were in correspondence with
other doctors on
Maui. When I got pregnant with Kelly on Maui in June
of 1977, they monitored this
conception heavily.
When we returned to the mainland, I found out I was
actually pregnant. I began
spotting and my
doctor recommended I go to bed, which I did for a few
days until the spotting ceased.
Kelly has a
personality named Papaya, in honor of, and use for,
Hawaiian experiences. As I remembered
this experience, in
obedience with my programming, my heart started
racing and I felt like I was having a
heart attack.
Our daughter, Kelly
Suzanne Ford was born on February 23, 1978, and
from then on Kevin wasn't
always the main
focus of the torturous trauma - Kelly was.
The torture and
trauma began right after her birth. While we were still
in Valley Presbyterian
Hospital in Van
Nuys, California, three men in suits came into the
hospital room and closed the door.
They took my new
baby girl out of her bassinet, held her up and put a
pistol to her head. Another man
put a gun to my
head and the third man stood guard at the hospital room
door. The man holding the gun
to my head said,
"If you fail to follow our instructions, just one
time..." he clicked the gun, but nothing
happened, "we will
just have to kill this precious little one." Then
the man holding Kelly took a wad of
Kleenex off my
hospital tray, wadded it up and put it into the glass of
water on my tray in order to wet it.
He held my precious
baby girl faced downward and forced the wad of wet
Kleenex into her mouth,
interfering with
her ability to breathe.
With a gun to my
head, I watched in absolute horror and terror, as my
baby girl choked and
gagged and then
went limp in the man's arms. I thought she was dead.
Then he said, "That's all it takes.
It's as simple and
easy as that." He took Kelly into the bathroom and
did something to revive her because
she was breathing
again, and began crying loudly. The man literally
threw her into my arms and said,
"Mama, your baby is
crying, maybe she's hungry." Then, they forced me
to breastfeed her in front of
them while they
watched and then they left. The hospital nurse never
knew they were there and since I
was programmed, I
was unable to think or remember it had happened so
that I could get help. That was
one of Kelly's
first life experiences - one of her first birth traumas.
As an aside, I will
share with you the reader, that as I sought
recovery and understanding of what
was wrong with me,
I attended groups for people suffering with Multiple
Personality Disorder. It was an
enlightening time
of new understanding as I met and shared with other
Multiples, some who were RN's,
intensive care
nurses and therapists also attempting to heal. It leads
me to wonder if some of the nurses
and doctors in the
hospital who attended the birth of my children were
themselves programmed and
controlled? In one
particular Christian group I attended for Multiples
who had been ritually abused, in
the opening prayer,
an MPD'd, ritually abused nurse prayed for the Lord
to heal one of us so we could
expose this
atrocity and get help for the others. As she made her
request, I knew it would be me that
would heal and go
for help. I healed as fast as I could, but help
didn't come as quickly as I would have
liked.
When Kelly turned
three months old, our family moved into a large
doublewide portable home on
the recently
purchased Chesebro Road property in Old Agoura, where we
began life as "chosen"
220
neighbors. Soon we
had an architect draw up plans to build a large
two-story home. The open,
undeveloped area
provided access to our family in many ways. Aaron Funk
moved away and we were left
on the street with
only one neighbor. Helicopters could land in the
adjacent area, and Bob Hope's Jordan
Ranch would later
be used for countless encounters; none of them were
pleasant.
Our lives went on
and, as programmed, I dutifully delivered my little
daughter to Point Mugu
Naval Weapons Base
in California where military men took her from my
arms wrapped in a beautiful
pink blanket my
mother knit for her. They kept her for a long while and
then brought her back out to me.
Sometimes when they
needed to have one of my children for programming I
was instructed to park my
car on Las Virgenes
Road, just past Agoura Road, and the men in suits
picked us up and drove us the rest
of the way to Point
Mugu.
As Kelly grew a
little older, at around age two our programmers laid
her by my side on a gurney
where we were both
hooked up to sensors all over our bodies - head,
chest, and pulse points (wrist and
neck artery), in
order to monitor something. What exactly, I don't
know. The men working on us wore
surgical greens so
I assumed they were doctors. Kelly and I were
drugged and totally out of it. I watched
as my little baby
daughter's eyes rolled up in her head like she was
convulsing. Sometimes they put a
mask over our faces
to further drug us or injected drugs into our
forearms and sometimes there was even
an IV bottle left
to drip for us both. There was one IV bottle, with
the tubing split into two, one for me
and one for Kelly.
They also hooked us up to sounds delivered through
earphones and often added bright
lights. It felt
like they programmed Kelly and I through sound and
light by hooking us both up to wires.
It seemed like we
were getting a blood transfusion, but we were
connected to wires instead of tubes and
there was no blood.
There were also
water experiments. They put me into a metal ball with a
door and plunged me
into the water,
spun it and immersed it deeply. It was hard to tell
what was going on from my position
inside. It was very
dark and very confining. I just pretended I was
somewhere on the beach until it was
over. If I had to
guess, I would say they were doing experiments and
research on the mind and the brain.
Sometimes we were
encapsulated and were weightless. There were all
different sorts of chairs; some
were for
electroshock. One had a headrest with a band on it and straps
for our wrists and straps for our
ankles. They would
zap me, and Kelly would be in the same kind of chair
facing me and then they would
zap her. It was
horrific to watch her being tortured. They would have
to almost carry her off when it was
through because she
was so out of it. The electoshock was usually the
last thing they did. But before the
electroshock,
sometimes we were subjected to virtual reality machines,
like moving rides we entered with
a video screen
showing pictures with lights and sound. After we were in
it for awhile, they took us out
and tested us with
EEG and EKG equipment and asked us to fill out
questionnaires, or they would ask us
to write down the
answers to questions they casually wrote down. The
questions were related to what we
had just seen, how
we experienced it, and how we felt or there were
questions about different
personalities
within us; maybe they were checking our programming or
our inner systems.
There were other
machines we entered where the floor tilted while our
feet were tied down and
we'd lean over, and
sometimes there were mirrors where we looked
distorted. There was lots of virtual
reality equipment.
One apparatus was a helmet with front eyeglasses
attached with wires all over. They
placed it on me and
I saw a visual of lightening striking the top of my
head while I was feeling
electroshock to the
top of my head. Then I heard the words, "You feel
no pain. Hit by a bolt of lightning
yet you feel no
pain." After all this they tested me neurologically to
see if I could walk, touch my nose, etc.
Once I was tied
inside a big roller and, with hands and feet tied
spread eagle, they spun it real fast and
then took me out.
Kelly wasn't always there, but she was present more
often than I care to remember. I
remember the two of
us laying next to each other on the gurney with
towels over our bodies, IV's in our
arms, with glasses
and goggles on and we were totally drugged. There
was a dolphin tank at Point Mugu,
with an underwater
window where they could watch as we swam with the
dolphins. Swimming with the
dolphins usually
signaled the end of it. After that, we were returned
to our car that was parked
somewhere in Agoura
or in the canyon.
221
I thought United
States military officials were supposed to be in
service to protect and defend
their country and
its citizens. Where are the high ranking men of honor
that protect and defend the
women and children
in this country? What has gone wrong?
Genetic Engineering
Soon after I had
finished breastfeeding Kelly in 1979, I continued to
have severe pain in my female
reproductive organs
that no one seemed to be able to help me with or
understand the origin of. Dr.
Galloway, the
doctor that delivered Kelly, admitted me to Valley
Presbyterian Hospital in Van Nuys,
California. Late in
the day I was assigned a hospital bed and
understood that my doctor had ordered a D
& C for me. He
explained that this was standard operating
procedure.
Later on, I was
taken into surgery, a mask was put over my face, and I
was anesthetized with some
sort of gas. It was
nighttime when they performed this procedure on me
that wasn't a real D & C; they
really took my ovum
for in vitro fertilization with other genetic
strains. "Ideal genes, from healthy stock,"
they said. I cannot
identify the doctors who were doing this to me.
Before I became
pregnant with Kevin, they had taken other ovum during
times when I was
previously
hospitalized for so-called "surgery." They thought I
couldn't hear, but I could hear and see
what they were
doing. I was out-of-body and could hear and see
everything they did. Their perception of
reality seemed to
be limited to the physical world. They didn't yet
understand that a person could be outof-
body, that it is
possible to take your consciousness out of your body
to see and experience events in
other locations.
While my body was lying on the operating table under
anesthesia, from my out-of-body
position overhead,
I could see their side of the table with equipment
they used to take my ovum and a
special dish with a
special solution that they used to put the ovum in.
Immediately upon placement of the
ovum into the dish,
a nurse came in and quickly took it away somewhere.
This is genetic
engineering. These people do this a lot - they steal
women's ovum to experiment
on. They take good
genetic stock. This is why, later on, I wanted a
hysterectomy; subconsciously, I
wanted to stop what
they were doing.
I recorded in my
memory files what I overheard the doctors say that
night in the operating room:
"Her children by
her husband are inferior to those created here. We can
team this ovum up with superior
sperm to create a
superior genus. These children will one day rule the
world and we will be able to weed
out the weaker
genetic strains. Room must be made for this advanced
race. The plan has been carefully
orchestrated. It
will come about with "our strains" in leadership. We
have chosen the genetic strains of
leaders, those
whose drive is to lead, and to that end we have
"strained in" health, intellect, and
leadership
qualities. These children will be raised in isolation, like
the leaders in the shadows and will be
taught advanced
skills from birth meditation, diet, emotion modulation,
and will be fed a strict diet of
higher knowledge.
The rulers of the future will be elite in every way,
shape and form. We have spliced her
genetic health and
intellect strains with those perfect physical forms
of the intellect donor to create the
perfect species -
both male and female. These strains will rise to the
top. The forms will be so advanced
that the normal
human species will not be able to compete, and so ours
will be the elite - the ruling class
- and the lower
forms will be the so-called worker-bees. There is no
way the normal man can compete.
Ours is the elite.
We will soon have enough of our people grown and
implanted with our direction and
our wisdom, and now
that we know how to program their minds from birth,
we will have total and
complete control.
They will be ours - a race - a genus we can be proud
of, created from the best genetic
structure on earth."
They said, "The
future on earth belongs to the scientists. It is time
we weed out the inferior races."
Under the direction
of my doctors, I mindlessly and compulsively
charted a graph of my
temperature to know
when I was ovulating. Now I understand why that was
so important. They even did
222
an experiment of
combining my genes with those of my husband's best
friend and colleague. On one
occasion, while he
was performing so-called "oral surgery," while I was
under anesthetic, they had him
mount me to
impregnate me. Then, I was instructed to report to UCLA
where they took the spermfertilized
egg from my uterus.
They compared which genetic structure was superior
- between those
created in vitro
and those created by a natural union and then taken
from the body to mature.
This determination
to create a 'superior race' is, as you may remember,
the same drive that fueled
Hitler's regime in
Germany. One needs only to read Linda Hunt's book,
Secret Agenda: The United
States Government,
Nazi Scientists, and Project Paperclip, and then
visit the Holocaust Museum in
Washington, DC, in
order to put two and two together. If you observe
some of the pictures of innocent
people in the
concentration camps as they are being used for brain and
behavior experimentation, it's
easy to ascertain
that more was occurring than just the torture of
innocent Jewish people for religious or
racial purposes.
This experimentation was also done intentionally in
order to further the understanding
of the mind and
body, and how people could be controlled.
We as a people have
not fully embraced the reality of the horrors in
Germany that were
perpetrated on
victims there, and to that end we allow it to continue
to the present, as those who should
have been
prosecuted for their war crimes often went free. As a matter
of fact, through Project Paperclip,
many were brought
to our country by the Office of Strategic Services
(OSS), which was our own
intelligence
apparatus at the time. They were placed in our major
universities and hospitals to continue
their
unconscionable scientific research. It was through the invaluable
wizardry of one of these Project
Paperclip Nazis,
General Reinhard Gehlen (German Intelligence
Specialist), that our fledgling CIA came
into being just
after World War Il, and the "Cold War" was born.
Len Horowitz, in
his book Emerging Viruses: Aids and Ebola - Nature,
Accident or Intentional?
points to a linkage
between Henry Kissinger and General Alexander
Bolling. He mentions that Gen.
Bolling played a
major role in Project Paperclip as well as the Joint
Intelligence Committee, a newly
formed
administrative unit that recruited former Nazi scientists expert
in mind control. Their combined
research activity
soon led to classified projects that paved the way
for the CIA's Project MKULTRA.
Horowitz also links
Kissinger to oversight of project MKNAOMI, a
military program to develop biological
weapons having
genocidal application. The Rockefellers, who spearheaded
a national eugenics
movement, supported
research activities of similar nature to Project
MKULTRA and MKNAOMI through
their preWW II
funding of the Kaiser Wilhelm Institute whose director
was, at one time, Joseph
Mengele's superior.
As you may remember, Mengele conducted horrific
medical experiments at
Auschwitz, many
that were related to mind control. All of these facts
are discussed in Horowitz's
meticulously
documented work.
From reading I did
after I reintegrated and deprogrammed, I began to
understand that the newly
created CIA and the
Rockefellers with all of their money and
foundations, carefully researched and hired
top former Nazi
scientists to carry on their personal belief in
creating a "master (Aryan) race." They are
doing so through
mind control experimentation and genetics research in
systems within the confines of
carefully
white-washed hospital or university research facilities, not
to mention military bases.
The Holocaust has
not ended, it has just gone underground, and the
victims are silent due to the
mind control they
have been put under.
I believe these
scientists have fallen short in their understanding
that, while the physical, genetic
structure a baby is
born with is very important, God in His perfection
has patterned a life for this child.
When this is
altered by human intervention, it no longer can serve the
highest purpose for the child's
lifetime. It is not
just the physical structure that rules a life of a
child. A 'soul' is born into the body, and if
left to the natural
order of God in His infinite wisdom, there is a
higher agenda and purpose to be
accomplished. How
can man in his finite wisdom begin to believe that he
can out-create the Creator? I
223
don't believe that
physical perfection is the main goal here.
Scientists will forever be lost in their own
egos until they
realize the absolute divine and perfective nature of
God.
Dental Office Money
Laundering Schemes
Arnold Stengle was
our first accountant, but was replaced by Bruce
Frank who was an accountant
from Soquel,
California. He directed me how to handle the dental office
books from his Northern
California office,
and visited our office every now and then in order
to further direct me. To give me
instructions, he
would sit across from me at my little office in the
back. I would put my hands up to my
head, my elbows to
my knees and in "ready and alert" program stance, I
would listen as programmed to
"every word
spoken." And he always had lists upon lists of 4digit
number series. I don't know what they
meant, but I would
rattle them off later to different people,
especially Reagan.
I also was
programmed to report to different banks in the area. One was
Safra Bank in Woodland
Hills. On a typical
day I went to the Safra Bank underground parking
and when I entered the parking lot
I was programmed to
switch to Sharon. Then I went into the bank. When I
entered the bank a man in a
suit was waiting
and gestured for me to go to a woman teller. I did as
instructed and handed her the
envelopes that two
men had just given me in the underground parking
lot. I never knew exactly what was
in the envelopes,
but when the teller opened them there were usually
checks and cash. When the
transaction was
completed, I drove back to the office, switched now to
Susan, and not having a clue that I
had just been used
to perform an illegal banking transaction for my
controllers. Years later when I filed
for divorce, my
California attorney, Doug Wolfe, told me to go sign
papers at Safra Bank before the
divorce could go
through. I remembered feeling really scared, but I
went to the bank like I was told and
signed a paper a
man put out on his desk for me to sign. When I was
through at the bank a man later
used a stun gun on
my back near my waist as he said, "You're a real
waste, do as you're told to do and
nothing more,
nothing less, or you will be a mess."
Reagan Is President
and Our Vice President is a Pedophile
Over the years,
Kelly was closely tied into the trauma I received.
Repeatedly she was tortured and
traumatized in
front of me in an effort to keep me in line. Her torture
fragmented her psyche in order to
create multiple
personalities within her, so she could follow in my
footsteps for later use as a
"presidential
model." Unfortunately, she didn't have to wait very long
for that so-called "privilege" as our
newly elected Vice
President at the time, George Bush, was/is a
pedophile and Kelly was created to be, as
I later found out
from a renegade CIA operative, what was called a
"Bush Baby."
Barbara Bush
brought snacks in on a tray to the delight of the children
clustered around her
husband. The kids
munched on animal cookies with sprinkles on top as
they listened to the Vice
President read them
stories. The reality created and the accompanying
program he delivered was, "You
are what you read."
This was during the time they lived in the house
with the flat rock fireplace. The
fireplace had a
stone bench that you could sit on in front of the
fireplace and George had his easy chair
near it. There was
a brown coffee table and a couch, and hunting
pictures of Springer Spaniels holding
birds in their
mouths and pointing, graced the walls. George was into
that sort of stuff.
Barbara thought I
was there as a representative of the new educational
system being implemented
in California,
which was true, although I wasn't consciously aware of
it, and she was told that the
children were there
to demonstrate to the Vice President just how well
the new system was working. But
later, when the
demonstration was over, Bush would take Kelly or
another small child to the bathroom or
to "show them
something special."
During the time the
Vice President disappeared with my daughter,
Barbara often made lots of
small talk, always
smiling, cheery and pleasant, speaking nothing of
importance. She talked a lot,
224
especially when her
husband was out of the room. I was on edge, even
under mind control, as parts of
me sensed that my
little girl was being hurt. The connection between
mother and child often makes
physical presence
unnecessary to know the status of one's child, and it
was difficult to carry on small talk
with Mrs. Bush
while my child was being raped. The Vice President
brought Kelly back when he was
finished. She
looked dazed and out of it.
Bob Hope arranged
many other times for George to be with Kelly in
different and more private
settings. There was
a weekend retreat home the Bush's went to in the
mountains, so they could relax, and
George would take
their dog out hunting wild fowl. Barbara stayed
inside and baked and did
needlepoint, like a
typical housewife. I believe that she was unaware
that her husband was molesting
droves of little
girls. George always said he had a special place in
his heart for little girls.
Bob Hope Utilizes
His Little Filly Asset
When Kelly was
brought to Bob's parties, he gave her as a gift to known
pedophiles that liked little
girls. Then, he
really owned these men. He would act like he really
thought it was okay to have sex with a
child, to men he
knew were pedophiles. Without actually saying it in
words, he portrayed that attitude
and then after the
person had raped the child he would say something
like, "Do you know what news like
this could do to
your career?...to your family?" At the parties, these
children were kept in a back room.
On nights I was
programmed to act as 'the hostess,' I was instructed to
escort men back to the room
where the children
waited for this expressed purpose. I was even
programmed to facilitate their choice in
which child they
wanted for the evening. Sometimes, acting from
program, I even offered my own
daughter to these
men.
Kelly was brought
to Bob's on nights when men who had "younger
preference" were in
attendance. Bob
used that term with people like George Bush. When Kelly
was nearly three years old she
was provided to
George Bush to satisfy his pedophile desires. Bob
invited a group of men with "younger
preferences," and
later provided them with a group of children, both
male and female, for their pleasure.
With people he
really wanted to own or use he would take pictures of
the molestation with hidden
cameras. He knew
just how to get to these people. Then afterwards he
would show them a picture of the
rape of the child
and say, "We sure don't want these pictures, or any
others like these to get into the
wrong hands and
ruin your entire career, do we?" Then he would simply
tell the man what he wanted, in
exchange for
impunity. It usually had to do with getting another
"friend" of his into a "key" position in
the government,
looking the other way when a case came down, or getting
a bill passed or vetoed. He
knew just how to
control these men and they usually complied.
In 1993 as I was
attempting to get free and get my first book
published, due to the fact that I was
not cooperating and
"staying in line," I was raped and then forced,
under mind control, to pose for
pictures that if
shown to others would have totally discredited me,
making me look like a perpetrator. In
this type of
scenario, the media is called in and a person is publicly
discredited--end of threat! Back in
the 60's and 70's I
watched as people in positions of authority were
set up and compromised in the same
manner in order
that they could be used. And in the 90's I watched with
horror, as many of the dedicated
individuals who
were attempting to end this abuse and help the victims,
were publicly discredited, often
via mainstream
media channels.
Hunted by Bush on
Hope's Jordan Ranch
George Bush was one
of the men in safari uniform on Bob Hope's property
who hunted me when
Kelly was little.
Bob was laughing when he laid down the rules. "There
will be no running, or hiding, you
will simply stroll
along the path, skipping, if you like, dancing if
you wish, but NO running, until you are
TRAPPED. It's
inevitable, there is no escaping it, especially with an
expert hunter like George." Looking
me in the eye, Bob
said, "Are there any questions?"
225
I shook my head no.
"Good, then
remember, every step you take may be your last." As a
helicopter touched down off in
the distance in
this rural Jordan Ranch area, Bob said, "Bush will be
coming from a different angle."
I walked down the
road, which with every step I took, became more and
more like The Yellow
Brick Road that I
had been programmed since childhood to follow. I was
absolutely terrified, waiting to
be attacked,
killed. . . whatever; I didn't know what they had in store
for me this day. I walked for a long
time and it felt
like I was hallucinating along the way. In my mind,
playing over and over like a horror
movie were Bob's
words, "Every step you take may be your last."
In my blue jeans
and red checkered shirt, I kept walking. I was still
walking when it got dark and I
was really scared
then because I was so far away from where I had
begun. My arm ached from the
injection they had
given me in the bend of my arm and I rubbed it
wishing I wasn't so alone in the world.
I was getting
frantic, totally panicked by now and I just kept walking.
Nothing seemed real anymore. I
felt like a caged
animal and I couldn't remember the rules any longer.
I was trying so hard to remember
exactly what Bob
had said, thinking if I just did it right that I
wouldn't get hurt and my children would be
safe. But my
drugged terror was escalating, and I couldn't think
anymore, I felt like I was losing control.
After what seemed
like a very long time, George Bush stepped out from
an old outhouse-type
structure that was
on Bob's ranch and calmly walked over to me, "Betcha
didn't think I'd ever be hiding
in there, did ya?"
and he laughed. "Well, I like to play hide and seek
a lot but there's only two of us here
so let's play
another game that only requires two, the two of us."
I nodded, frozen in
terror.
"I just happen to
have an apple. A beautiful red apple here in my
pocket." He pulled the apple out
and said, "I know
the game is supposed to be played with a bow and
arrow (I'd been accidentally shot
with an arrow in
the jaw when I was five) but I forgot mine. I did
remember however to bring my
revolver." And he
pulled a gun out of his other pocket. "Now, this game
is called William Tell, and you
get to play
William. Here, you stand over here, so if I miss, the
bullet will go into the tree instead of
traveling wildly
out of control."
He placed me in
front of an oak tree and put the apple on top of my
head. By now I was crying. I
couldn't help it, I
just couldn't control it. "Please don't hurt my
kids anymore," I begged.
Bush said, "Shhh,
don't interrupt. We're playing a game now. Now just
stand real still and
remember your name
is William Tell, and this is what happens if you
don't." Slowly, he cocked the gun
and took aim at the
apple on my head or me, I couldn't tell which.
Then, taking his time he said very
slowly as he took
aim, "Ok are you ready for the games to begin? Will
you tell?"
I squeezed my eyes
shut and he lowered the gun as he sighed real
disgustedly, "No, no, you can't
close your eyes,
you have to see this coming, otherwise it won't be any
fun at all."
So, I opened my
eyes and George took aim again and said, "Remember this
is what happens if you
don't TELL." He
kept aiming and re-aiming trying to get it just right
and then he asked me again if I was
ready.
"Yes, Sir," I
answered.
He put the gun down
to listen to me, then took aim again, "Now what's
the magic message?"
"Don't tell," I
answered. Immediately, he fired and shot the apple off
my head. It blasted a hole in
the middle of it
and blew out a huge chunk and he walked over, picked
it up off the ground and said,
"Looks like we both
won this time. You wait for your ride, I'll take
mine another way," and he
disappeared.
I tried to see
where he went in the dark but I couldn't locate him.
Shortly after, a couple of
cowboys that tended
the cattle on Bob's ranch came driving by in their
old pick up truck and angrily said,
"Get in, we'll give
you a ride back to the end of the road. You're
trespassing lady." So I climbed into the
back of their pick
up truck, not even on the seat in the cab and
bounced all the way back to the end of the
road. Then, I
walked the short distance home.
When I walked in
the house, Craig said, "Where have you been? I got
dinner started and was
getting worried."
226
"Oh, I was over at
the neighbor's," I answered, falling into line
helping with the kids and the
dinner. During
dinner, I just wanted to hold Kelly, who was two years
old, and kept feeling so glad she
was safe, at least
for now.
I kept rocking her
at the dinner table and it was a good thing my
daughter was in my lap or I
probably would have
appeared as I really was, "psychotically
experiencing an episode." That's what they
told me the doctors
would say if I went to them for help. "They'll say
you're psychotic," Bob said, "and it
won't take them
long to figure it out. It will be obvious."
George Bush lorded
and ruled over me for years once I had children.
There were lots of scary
program tactics
they installed to insure the safety of his use of Kelly
and me.
Mission Assignment
on Maui
An early experience
of cross-programming with Kelly took place in order
for me to be used with
newly elected
President Ronald Reagan and Kelly with Vice President
George Bush, on Maui.
My pedophile
father, Calvin Eckhart, paid for my husband, young
children, and I to vacation with
him and my mother
to Hawaii. This was a trip to the island of Maui in
1981 where I was taken from my
family to be of
service to my country, to serve President Reagan and
others. Before the trip Bob Hope
checked Kelly out
at a distance. My father took us to a public park in
Reseda, California and, although at
the time he was
very physically debilitated, he gave Bob a hand signal
as we passed by. Bob looked at
Kelly and gave my
father a wink and a thumbs-up sign and we left.
Like all these
"missions" before, I was totally amnesiac of this
occurrence and could not remember
much of what
happened at all during the vacation. At the time, I did
not realize I couldn't remember
what happened on
the vacation. It was only years afterwards that
awareness was available to me. Then,
the only thing I
could recall about this trip was having dinner at the
Charthouse on Front Street, in
Lahaina with my
parents, husband and children. I remembered that my
five-year-old son Kevin ordered
lobster, and that
was all I could remember about that trip until years
later when I returned to Maui
without my family
in 1991. Then the memories of that earlier trip began
flooding back as I sat under the
large mango tree
located in front of the same place I had been taken to
be with Reagan - the Puamana.
It all began like
it had every other time before. Three men in suits
barged into our hotel room
where my family was
sleeping and took Kelly and I out of the room. She
was 2'/2 years old. Then they
took us to another
room and tortured us both in front of one another,
programmed in some instructions
for me, and then
they took me away. At that time I didn't know where
they took Kelly. The personalities
inside of me that
were programmed for use with Reagan and others on
this trip never knew what
happened to my
children during that time. The personalities I had that
performed everyday, mundane,
routine jobs, were
amnesiac to the whole experience-they never knew it
happened. Such is the reality of
Multiple
Personality Disorder and mind control through trauma-based
programming.
I overheard my
controllers speak amongst themselves explaining that the
Puamana was specially
selected for
security purposes and had the advantage that it could be
accessed by both land and sea.
Seaplanes could
secretly fly in foreign dignitaries at night. It was a
gate-guarded complex that was easily
protected by the
Secret Service, insuring secrecy and privacy.
I was on Maui for a
ten-day stay, supposedly to vacation with my
family, and was used part of the
time as a
go-between with Reagan and many other politicians and foreign
dignitaries. During the time at
the Puamana, my job
was to help make Ron and Nancy more comfortable. I
researched restaurants and
places to order
food and did everything I was told to do to help them,
in addition to being the "secretary"
for mind files use
at their meetings and later having sex with Reagan.
I took shorthand, but more
importantly could
secretly "record" everything I heard and saw for
later debriefing by Kissinger or the
Council.
227
Nancy could see
that I had a credible job, but when she would say
anything accusatorily about
me, Reagan would
deny it and tell her she was just over-reacting and he
would kiss her very lovingly on
the cheek. All in
all, she was not pleased that I was there. She was
angry and unpleasant to me. She hated
it when I was
around. I hated it when she was around too; everyone was
on guard because of her
attitudes. Reagan
occasionally spoke to me about her as if she was
unreasonable, but mostly he would
defend her, saying
she was probably just a little tired or cranky.
I liked it when
Ronnie (that's what he told me to call him when we were
alone) and I walked on
the beach in the
dark together, as there was no one to interrupt us.
Nancy never knew where we "really"
were because Ronnie
would tell the Secret Service agents to tell her
that he was going to be in a meeting.
They were
instructed to keep an eye on her and make sure she stayed
inside the room for safety, since it
was dark outside.
Reagan told them he would need me to be at the
meeting, as I was functioning as his
secretary at
certain times and he would need my help. Then we would go
off together to "do business."
Sometimes we did do
business, but more often we would go off alone
together and I would give
him my "undivided
sexual attention." I also gave him any information I
was instructed and
preprogrammed to
give to him from the Council and others. Once elected,
Ronnie said to me, "Can you
believe I'm
President now? Does it feel any different to you to be here
with me?" He often complained
about his job and
how hard it was. That seemed to be where I translated
his words to mean, "Please baby
me, pamper me, take
care of me, coddle me," and I did just that.
Whatever he wanted or needed, I was
programmed to
perform for him.
I was assigned a
room on the beachfront at Puamana. The room was
actually just another one of
his rooms a place
where they took me to be alone with him. The Secret
Service agents acted like they did
not see or were not
watching, but sometimes I would notice them
snickering or smiling at things I did
with Reagan.
The Council told me
what to do, when to do it, what words to use and
what to say later on in the
evening to have the
greatest impact on Reagan. I don't think he ever
knew I was being "an actress" -
doling out the
lines I had been programmed to deliver - but he loved
it! So did Tricky Dick (Nixon).
These tactics
worked especially well on old men, and that is exactly
what these men were.
This late night
rendezvous at the Puamana, in the little pool
overlooking the ocean, I bounded out
of the pool and
began unfastening my bikini top. I took it off and
began dancing, slinging it around like I
had been trained to
do, as I sang, "Let me entertain you," like I had
done for Bob Hope. Reagan was
laughing and a bit
embarrassed, I guess because of the Secret Service's
presence, but he didn't stop me. I
slowly pulled off
my bikini bottom, danced around more and then slipped
back into the pool next to him,
naked. This
personality, specially created and devoted to Reagan, was
very comfortable being naked. I
never even
considered picking up my bikini afterwards. As I climbed out
of the pool, Reagan put a large
beach towel around
me and the Secret Service agents picked up my wet
bikini and brought it inside.
The Secret Service
agents were usually younger than the Presidents and
I could see in their faces
that I had their
respect and admiration, but was confused as to why.
Sometimes after these antics, they
would have a little
grin on their faces.
The words that went
with these little acts were not political, but were
used by the Council to
entertain and bring
Reagan closer to me, to make him want me. They
figured if he wanted to be with me,
they could use me
to slip important messages to him later on after sex,
upon awakening or in the evening
when he was just
dozing off to sleep. The Council knew that, if they
could keep him interested and
pampered over the
years, they could maintain control over him.
228
I was programmed to
make him feel good. I did everything he wanted and
helped soothe him
when he was
troubled or distressed, and I even had some opinions that
he was surprised I was "old
enough" to have.
President Reagan said I was, "wise beyond my years,"
but he never did know that I
wasn't really--I
just had the Council pre-empting me. I would say that
I was so interested in his success
and the success of
our nation that I read up on things in the newspaper
and got a new "idea" or
perspective after
my research. Or, I would say that an idea just came
to me. I don't believe he knew just
exactly to what
extent I was being set up for him. The Council knew
just what would make a man happy,
and more
importantly they studied exactly what each man specifically
liked or disliked.
Newly elected Vice
President George Bush was at the Puamana for this
trip, also. He and Reagan
were having all
sorts of leaders secretly flown in by seaplane to the
back of the complex in the middle of
the night. My job
was to go and greet many of them as they arrived and
help them to their rooms in the
dark. Some were
foreign ambassadors. They had meetings with these men
and had a formal gathering
one evening in the
large banquet room that was used for parties. It was
decorated in red, white, and blue,
as it was soon
after Reagan and Bush had been elected and many of the
foreign dignitaries were
congratulating them.
I overheard Reagan
and Bush talking before the party and Bush told
Reagan that this was an
important night to
lay the groundwork for future negotiations with
certain foreign countries. These
leaders were flown
in, spent a couple of days and were flown back out.
The men from Saudi
Arabia had to be flown in on separate days because I
overheard them saying
that they would not
"mix" with the other guests. No one spoke of them
afterwards to any of the other
guests. They wore
their white robes or native dress and were mostly
dark-skinned.
George Bush seemed
like the leader as far as these negotiations went
and I noticed that Reagan
"leaned on him"
heavily for guidance and instruction. Bush had done his
homework and studied the
situations and
Reagan took his expert advice. Although I don't remember
Kissinger being present for this
meeting, at other
times, Reagan also took advice from Kissinger.
George Bush pounced
on me when I least expected it, often delivering a
devastatingly terrifying
cryptic message
while I was speaking to some foreign ambassador or
politician at a White House
function, gala,
ground breaking, or golf with Hope. But this time we
were on Maui at the newly-elected
President's dinner.
He waited until no one was around and then said, "I
don't know what the President
sees in you. He
must have on some of those strange Elton John glasses,
that make you look otherworldly
like a little green
Martian."
Later at night, I
was told to stand out at the beach and wait until I
was signaled with a flashing
light and then I
was instructed to swim out through the surf to the
sailing vessel. A man aboard the big
white sailing
vessel took me aboard and into a darkened room below
where a man sitting in the dark
delivered a message
to me, "You are to tell Reagan it's a green light.
It's a go. And tell Bush to keep his
dirty mitts off
this one." Then he laughed and said, "No instead say,
'George, the men on high say that
they have got this
one covered. Anything you do would only interfere in
the master plan."' Then he said,
"You may go now.
Take flight and deliver your messages on cue."
I walked
robotically out of the room and over to the area on the boat
where there wasn't a railing,
dove off and swam
back to the beach. The Council maintained vigilant
contact with Reagan especially
during this trip.
Reagan was aware that I swam to get information
because he commented that it turned
him on when I swam
to my assignment.
I swam often and
had programming that allowed me to swim long distances
without tiring. This
swim program was
often tied to 'dolphin themes' in my conscious mind
so, in case I began to remember,
229
my thoughts were
automatically directed to thinking about how much I
loved dolphins. These are the
words that directed
my swim programming: "Your body is warm as you
glide through the water,
swimming easily,
effortlessly, endlessly through the ocean, like a
dolphin. Dolphins deliver messages,
and so will you."
Other times I swam out from the beach and waited to
hear the sound of a helicopter,
and like the
dolphin waiting below the spaceship in the movie Cocoon, I
waited to be "beamed up." My
programming
dictated my reality. I thought that I was living this
intentional movie-scrambled reality
while the actual
event was hidden beneath the surface of this
programming. As I experienced the
flashback of the
actual occurrence, I could feel the cold water on my
body, taste the salt water and hear
the helicopter.
They dangled a rope ladder down and my instructions
were to "climb the stairway to
heaven." As I did,
I entered the movie reality my programming
commanded, and felt like I was on an
angelic/dolphin
mission. The rope ladder stung the bottom of my feet.
When I made it to the top, a man
grabbed my arm and
pulled me in, sat me down, put headphones on my ears
and said, "Listen and
learn," as I
retained the message to deliver to the leaders.
One night, the
Reagans and a foreign guest went to dinner late in the
evening. I was taken along
as this man's
escort. (I am sorry that at this time I am not able yet
to remember his name.) We went by
limo to a
restaurant in a large shopping area that had storefronts like
boutiques or the French Quarter,
with brick walkways
leading to the back and flowers alongside. We ate
outside at a patio table
surrounded by
bushes and flowers; it was very private. The Secret
Service were with us but kept a low
profile, so as not
to attract anyone's attention.
Something happened
at the restaurant when Nancy and I went to the
restroom. She said
something to me
about indecently coming on to her husband and then she
slapped me. It really messed
me up, as slapping
was also part of a program to switch me into
different personalities. A Secret Service
agent quickly took
me aside. I had switched into a child personality
and was crying, and he could not let
me go back to the
table like that. He straightened me up, smoothed out
the rough emotional edges, and
took me back to the
table where everyone was finishing up.
Despite this
incident, we had a successful late night dinner with this
man and went back to the
Puamana without
being detected. It was the only time I knew of that
Reagan went into public during the
entire trip. I
think this guest had expressed a desire to see the small
town of Lahaina. He did not seem
too concerned about
the security risks and Bush encouraged Reagan to go
and entertain him. Reagan
and Bush usually
went into public places separately for security
reasons.
After my use with
Reagan at the Puamana was over, I was taken back to
my family. I do not know
what happened to
them in my absence, but just like each occasion
before, none of us experienced a break
in time, and no one
knew that I was gone or that I had "just" returned.
When we returned to
California, no one in my family thought of this
hidden experience again, as it was
buried deeply under
programming.
Reagan's Ranch
I was also taken to
the Ranch to visit President Reagan, as I had at
times in the past when he was
Governor. I was
picked up in front of my home in Agoura by a man in a
suit and was flown to the Ranch
located near Santa
Barbara, California. Ronnie insisted saddling up the
horses himself when we went
riding, even after
he became President. He did not want anyone
(including Secret Service agents) to do it
and so he did it
himself! I rode the brown horse.
President Reagan
"acted" very romantically while we rode, just like we
were in some old movie! It
seemed he lived in
a type of "movieland" mentality a lot of the time.
We rode all over the ranch, down
near the Oak grove
on the far side. It was beautiful in the springtime,
with green grass and wild flowers
as far as one could
see. We got off our horses and he put his arm
around my waist and pulled me to him
230
for a kiss. He
explained, "A man needs a young woman in his life to
make him feel younger." I just
smiled. I did a lot
of that, didn't use many words, just smiled, and
was pleasing, helpful and compliant.
That is how I was
created to be.
Then Reagan sang,
"Younger than springtime." He took his hat off and
put it over his heart while
he was singing,
just like he was in some musical. He could be very
corny.
Later he explained
he had barbed wire put in between the wood fencing
on the Ranch to keep
people out. He said
he didn't like to have to do that, but the Secret
Service suggested he go along with it
for security
reasons. He explained that he did not like to always have
people watching him, but that it
went with the job
now-it was different than when he was Governor, but,
he explained that nothing could
change our
relationship, we would just have to be more careful.
Nancy Reagan was
very mean to me, much meaner than Barbara Bush ever
was. Barbara Bush
just sort of
ignored me altogether, whereas Nancy was very angry and
controlling. I liked it best when
Nancy was not
around. When Henry Kissinger or George Bush met with
Reagan at the ranch, Nancy
served them snacks.
I was never allowed to eat, but just sat quietly
wherever I was "parked" and recorded
information into my
mind files whenever I was directed to. Henry knew
just how to file it inside of me,
all in the correct
storage areas for easy retrieval later on. They met
at the ranch quite often.
Sometimes we flew
to meet big leaders in their own country, if they
were at all concerned about
the security at the
ranch. But most people felt pretty safe there with
all of the security systems and the
Secret Service
agents.
I observed a lot of
Secret Service security techniques because at times
Henry left me with them
when I was not
being used. Henry sat me next to the agent at the
security monitor and told him to keep
an eye on me, but
to not feed or talk to me. So, I was able to watch
the monitor and listen to the agents.
They even had
agents placed at the far corners of the ranch all night
long for security. Each agent carried
a walkie-talkie to
keep in touch with each other and the agents in the
house. A Secret Service agent was
stationed inside
the house with television monitors and other equipment
to help supervise the agents
outside and was
always listening to the men in the field with the
walkie-talkies. The agents took shifts so
that there was
always someone fresh and alert manning all the "posts"
24 hours a day and night.
Reagan laughed a
lot when he was Governor and in the beginning days of
his Presidency, but he
acted very
differently after he was shot. Kind of like how different
Nixon became after the Watergate
scandal broke. Like
the life went out of him.
Reagan gave me a
bracelet on one occasion when we were at the ranch.
But I had to turn it over to
the men who flew me
by helicopter back home to Agoura. Nancy had been
gone that weekend. She
usually was when
Reagan and I were together sexually. But, she saw me
when Kissinger and Reagan or
Bush used me at the
ranch for mind file use. It seemed like she hated
it when she noticed her husband
perk up when I was
around, so she was mean to me. Actually, even under
mind control the parts of me
that were dedicated
to Reagan felt sorry for her, having to be married
to him, if he had sex with her in the
same passive manner
he did with me.
The Conception of
Our Third Child Under Mind Control
In 1980, I felt a
deep desire for a third child, though I am not sure
if I ever really was solely
responsible for
having decided such things on my own, or if it was up
to the Council, Bob, Henry, etc. My
husband fought me
for months on end, with the logical reasoning that we
had the perfect family - a little
boy and girl, and
for him they were enough. But for me, it wasn't. I
was experiencing excruciating female
reproductive pains
and had been for a long time, and my pain seemed to
increase as time went on. When
I sought medical
help, Dr. Feldman, my OB/GYN doctor, examined me and
said, "You have a large
fibroid tumor
growing in your uterus," and his avenue of resolve for my
worsening condition was a
231
hysterectomy.
Looking back on this situation from where I am now in my
more healed
understanding, I
realize it was indeed this man's attempt to help me
remove my "hysteria."
Unfortunately, I
was unable to understand that this hysteria that
manifested physically in my innermost
female private
part, was the cellularly stored terror and devastation
of my children and me. I was unable
to think on my own,
but I could understand what I felt. And, what I
felt in my heart was that I wanted a
third child and I
wanted him desperately. I don't know if I was
programmed to know, but I knew then
that this child was
to be a boy.
From his
authoritative position between my legs, as he examined me, my
doctor's orders were
that I could have
30 days to try to conceive a child and after that
time I was to return for the
hysterectomy.
Craig and I used
the "scientific method," the same method we used in
the past to insure that the
sex of our third
child was a boy. And he was. Daniel Robert Ford was
born on March 15, 1982 at Los
Robles Hospital in
Thousand Oaks, California. I was 31 years old. I
have little conscious memory of
Danny as a baby.
When he was visiting me in the summer of 1996, he
looked at me emotionlessly and
said, "Mom, I don't
remember anything about my childhood." He just
stated the fact. What was very
apparent to me was
that my teenage son had no emotion attached to this
statement or even any means to
think this thought
through to understand what it all might mean. It
seemed like he was merely reporting
it to me and,
having done enough of my own healing to realize what this
all meant, I was devastated.
Understanding now
that my children will not be served by remembering
anything about their past until
they are in a safe,
supportive environment to do that, I simply
acknowledged his reality and recommitted
to doing whatever I
could to bring about his freedom.
War Games at Jordan
Ranch to Terrorize Kelly and Me
When Kelly was
around three years old, we were told to walk down to the
"end of the road," which
I knew to be Bob
Hope's Jordan Ranch. Once inside the fence we were
injected with drugs in the back of
a limo and were
told to start walking out onto the ranch. Somehow, all
of a sudden, my little daughter
was gone. There was
a whole group of men in army fatigues who I later
found out were playing war
games. But in the
drugged state of mind they put me in, I had no way to
know this was just a game. Bob
had a walkie-talkie
that he used to radio instructions to the men in
army fatigues. He told them what to
do and say to us. I
know because the guys would listen to their
walkie-talkies while I heard Bob say
directions like,
"Ok, rape her now."
These guys were
shooting their weapons and throwing hand grenades. As I
revivified the memory
I was able to
realize that the hand grenades and gunfire were all fake,
but the drugs I was subjected to
made everything
feel very real and very terrifying. While these men
were shooting at me, I was running
for my life,
ducking under bushes trying to stay alive so I could find
my little girl, and the drugs made it
impossible to think
clearly. They told me Kelly's life depended on me
finding her quickly. A helicopter
flying overhead
landed nearby and I finally found Kelly, naked and
huddling near a small scrub bush.
She was very dirty
and had cried so much that her little eyes were
swollen nearly shut and her face was
covered with dirt
and tears all mixed together. She was crying so hard
that she was shaking and had
begun the
involuntarily sniffling and jerking that infants do when they
have cried for a very long time. I
picked her up and
took her, as directed, over to the helicopter. Due to
the severe trauma, I was unable to
retrieve the rest
of this devastating experience. This is the type of
activity these men needed to use in
order to guarantee
that, under national security, a mother and her baby
daughter would never remember
the perverted
experiences for which they were being used by Henry
Kissinger, Bob Hope and the agenda
of our other
high-level controllers. When I was deprogramming and
really getting beneath my instilled
trauma-based
programs in order to retrieve my experiences, my
programmed mother sent me a picture
of Kelly that she
had taken. In it, Kelly was crouched down, hiding
beneath a bush. Most likely our
232
controllers had my
mother send that picture in an attempt to tap into
this traumatic memory in order
to remind me what
my odds were, in order to keep me under control.
Trauma Before Use
After I had my
children, they always inflicted trauma on me and one or
more of my kids (always
with my daughter
Kelly) before an assigned rendezvous took place. Those
experiences were terrifying
and horrific enough
so, that my controllers felt very certain I would
never gain access to memory of the
experiences the
trauma was meant to cover. The trauma they inflicted on
me and then on my children in
front of me, began
when they were born.
The following is a
vivid example of the kind of programming and torture
my family and I had to
endure before I was
used with a President, Governor, Senator,
entertainer, or whoever else they decided
they wanted to send
me in on. I have no way of knowing what the rest of
my family might have been
assigned to, in my
absence.
This time, we were
in Catalina and my husband told the kids that we
were going to look at a new
hotel complex on
the island. When we arrived, three men in suits told
us to go into a room where there
was a single row of
chairs lined up against the wall. We were told to
sit down in the straight back chairs.
Passively and
robotically, we helplessly complied. Kevin our oldest
son., who then was nine, was the first
in the lineup; then
Craig, me, and Kelly, who was seven, and last, at
the far end, our youngest son Danny,
who was three. One
of the suited men took a razor blade or something
similar and started with Kevin and
slowly and
deliberately ran it over the top of his legs, then onto
Craig's, then mine, Kelly's and little
Danny's. All of us
were bleeding and traumatized, in a daze, physically
frozen, staring straight ahead. I
was terrified and
panicked, but sat there, helpless to do anything to
protect my children, as a result of
years of abuse and
mind control programming.
Craig could do
nothing to defend the children or me. He couldn't even
defend himself. All of us
just sat there like
zombies with blood trickling off our burning legs.
One suited man informed us, "This is
just the
beginning," and they took Danny and threw him up against the
wall. With the air knocked out of
him and in obvious
pain, he crumpled over and crouched up into a small
ball, already, at three years old,
knowing better than
to cry out or make a sound. They always did
something horrific and if the kids or I
cried out or showed
any reaction or retaliation, they would hurt
another one of the kids or me even more.
Craig simply took
his seat and never moved until he was told to. He was
totally and completely
immobilized.
Watching my
children get hurt was always the worst; nothing they ever
did to me was ever as bad.
Then one of the men
took a cotton ball doused with alcohol and dabbed
the blood off our legs. It stung
badly.
Then the men in
suits took me away, and told my family, "run along and
play at the beach. Your
mother will be
along in awhile. You will never even miss her, never
even be aware she is gone." Without
reaction, Craig
stood up and robotically walked out the door with the
kids following in like manner.
After my family was
gone, they took me to an empty room, ordered me to
strip naked and they
began slapping me
around until I sank into a shivering, naked ball in
the corner of the room. The rest of
the day, all night,
and part of the next day, I was left in isolation.
Food and water were deliberately
withheld until I
was reunited with my family, which could be up to
three days. A man in a suit would
come to get me out
of isolation and take me to get ready for Reagan or
Nixon, or Pete Wilson or
whomever. I was
instructed to shower and dress in the clothes they
provided. Outfits, complete with
accessories just my
size, were left for me.
233
After the sexual
encounter was completed, I was taken back to the room
and ordered to put on
my own clothes.
Hypnotic commands were given to, "simply walk out and
sit down with your family on
the beach. You will
not notice any lapse of time, but will resume
interacting with your family normally
and naturally." On
this occasion, I was told to sit down next to Craig
on my beach chair and it was as if I
had never been
gone! No one mentioned another word about it. The
experiences were supposedly wiped
away from all of
our minds as if nothing out of the ordinary had
happened.
Each time I was
taken, there was similar trauma before they could
"safely" use me and be able to
insure that my
programming and amnesia would remain locked up tightly.
All of this for a Governor's or
President's sexual
perversions, or for the fulfillment of the New World
Order agenda.
Bob Hope's Escapades
We owned a large
family camper that was fully self-contained and we
kept it stocked and packed,
completely ready at
anytime should we decide that we wanted to get away
for a long weekend or week
vacation. We
traveled regularly on Thanksgiving holidays and during
summers, often driving up
Highway 1, winding
up the scenic and beautiful California coastline. We
went to Ojai Valley, Big Sur,
Carmel, Monterey,
San Francisco, Oxnard, Paso Robles, Santa Barbara,
Leo Carrillo State Beach, Emma
Woods State Beach,
Pismo Beach, San Luis Obispo, and Napa Valley. At
other times we went up into the
High Sierras, to
visit Mammoth, Sequoia, Tahoe, Reno, Yosemite National
Park, Big Bear, and Crestline.
We also took the
children to Six Flags Magic Mountain and, of course,
Disneyland.
Bob Hope showed up
in many of these locations. It seemed like he was
everywhere. I had a
number I called to
let him know my vacation plans or he would make the
suggestion of where to go.
When we arrived at
our destination, I wouldn't consciously know to
expect to see him but the part of me
that was programmed
and readied for the rendezvous was instructed to
walk towards him when he
appeared. Sometimes
he would snap his fingers in front of my face or
jingle his keys in front of my eyes
to get me to
respond. He often liked to meet for sex or information
exchange in mountain cabins. He
would say he needed
some time away from the hustle and bustle of city
life and I was his plaything. He
said I was better
than "Jeanie" (the genie) because all she did was
come out of a bottle. He said with me
he could rub my
magic spot and it was magic-he'd come! He usually spoke
in clever little lines and
phrases. I met him
aboard yachts, also, even when I thought Craig and I
were simply going sailing with
friends. What
actually occurred often was a rendezvous with Bob or some
leader they needed to get
information to.
Sometimes Reagan was brought out on a little ocean
excursion and ended up navigating
right to us. I was
then transported aboard with him for sex and
messages. Sometimes I stayed all night
with him on his
transport and then was put back on the sailboat I came
on the next day.
Reagan in Mazatlan
I was with
President Reagan in Mazatlan, Mexico. In fact, my husband
and I acquired a
timeshare, the
"Presidential Suite," at the El Cid Hotel, in Mazatlan,
where we went in later years.
One evening in the
early 80's, while we were 'vacationing' in Mazatlan,
Craig and I dressed to go
out and I became
panicked because I put my contact lens on inside out
and couldn't get it back out. From
my attempts my eye
was becoming red and ugly. Craig's father was with
us at the time and the two of
them thought I was
acting very strangely to be so upset about such a
little thing. But, my inner system of
personalities knew
that this would not do when I was nearing an
assignment with the President.
The next thing I
remembered, I was escorted by the Secret Service to
the back door of a dark
Mexican Restaurant.
I joined Reagan in a booth in the back of the
restaurant and waited for him to finish
eating. It wasn't
long until we walked out on the beach. We walked hand
in hand along the beach with
the Secret Service
agents following a short distance behind us. As we
were walking on the beach that
234
night, Reagan
seemed upset and anxious, very nervous. He said he was
concerned about the 'state of
affairs.' With my
pre-programmed sexual orientation, my mind
immediately went to the thought of
sexual affairs, but
as he continued speaking I realized he was speaking
of the affairs of the nation. He
went on to explain
that being President was difficult, that there was a
lot more to it than I could imagine.
He said he was
concerned about the way things were going and was upset
with Kissinger about some
things he had
handled. He said he was very upset with Henry for taking
so many matters into his own
hands. He said he
knew a few hours with me would help him snap out of
the mood he was in.
I had been given a
few key words by the Council to help Reagan "snap
out of it" when he got into
one of his slumps.
They were very simple phrases like, "everything will
be okay," said while I was rubbing
or caressing his
forehead over and over. He seemed to respond to that
like a kitten going into a purr. I
would generally rub
him all over, front and back, before climbing on
top of him to satisfy him sexually.
We went into a
little cabin-type motel on the beach. It was just the
two us with Secret Service
agents all around
outside. The little room was done in Mexican design;
a red bedspread in Mexican
colors, yellows and
blues, and a little pair of maracas sat on a wooden
dresser. I had sex with him and
then we left; he
did not go to sleep as usual. He hugged me briefly
outside the motel and kissed me on
the cheek before he
left with the Secret Service agents.
A Secret Service
agent took me back to where I was staying with my
husband. It was a very quick
encounter; rushed,
like Reagan had somewhere else to go.
Craig and I
returned to our home in California without conscious
knowledge of my "missing time"
or of what he did
during my absence.
NASA
When Danny was an
infant we went for programming together. He was a
year old when his
innerspace mind
files were created in order for him to have a wide
range of access points, without the
necessity of as
much trauma as was necessary back in the days when mine
were created. Time had shown
our controllers
that trauma itself was one cause for the breakdown in
slaves. So Danny was exposed to
their newer
technology, from birth, and Danny and I were both heavily
programmed and crossprogrammed
together.
I was there with
Danny when he was 3 or 4 years old. It seemed like a
school field trip, but the
series of events
that unfolded were much different. Danny had on long
baggy blue print shorts and a light
blue T-shirt. We
were sitting with other mothers and children, in the
front row of a circular auditorium.
Men in NASA suits,
who were dressed like astronauts were all around and
one of them came over, lifted
Danny up and put
him into a chair. "Like the real astronauts sit in!"
the man explained. This chair had
equipment all
around it.
Danny smiled so
sweetly across the auditorium at me like he was so
proud and so happy to be
chosen to sit in
the big astronaut chair. There was such anticipated
excitement and innocence in his
joyful smile. Soon
the man instructed him to lean back so his head was
properly aligned to fit into a
silver band and
when Danny was in the proper alignment, I watched the
NASA official clamp the back of
the silver band to
fit snugly around his little forehead. Danny looked
up at the NASA official, eyes wide
with innocence and
youthful exuberance, and smiled as the man said to
Danny, "Hold on for the ride of
your life!"
Another man brought
in some sort of visual/optical glasses (virtual
reality?) to rest in front of
Danny's eyes and
told him to look into the viewer. Then to my horror,
the man standing next to Danny
gave a cue to
another man and I watched in agony as Danny's little body
jolted. They must have been
giving him
electroshock and God knows what else. After a time, his
little body went limp and he was
unconscious.
235
I was dying inside,
but knew from many past experiences with his older
brother and sister that if I
made any attempt to
interfere things would only get worse for all of
us, especially Danny, so against all
maternal protective
instinct, I maintained my composure.
Pretty soon the
NASA official waved a smelling salt or something in a
cotton ball bound with
gauze, in front of
Danny's face. He came to abruptly and they released
him from the equipment and then
from the chair. He
was sweating profusely around his forehead and under
his nose. As the man helped
him out of the
chair, Danny looked over at me and several facial
expressions quickly washed over him. At
first he looked
utterly humiliated and embarrassed, which was soon
replaced with a look of utter shame
that spread over
his entire face and down his little body.
He could barely
walk over to me and when I stood to help him, the NASA
man said, "He's a big
boy, he can do this
on his own."
"Mommy, I feel
sick," my little son said as he hobbled over to me and
put his head in my lap. The
men did the same
thing to several other children, including another
little girl from Danny's preschool,
Born Learners. Soon
we were escorted out, put on a shuttle back to the
airport and were flown home.
None of this
experience was available to my conscious mind until years
later when I began the grueling
process of
deprogramming. And, to this day, Danny has no memory of this
event available to his
conscious mind.
Different parts of
me took care of Danny and our controllers assigned
other parts to take him to
places for
conditioning.
The Highway to
Heaven billboard that we had to pass along Kanan Road on
the way to Zuma
Beach or Point Mugu
dissociated me. Instead of the actual sign, I would
experience an internal
experience of, "You
are going to another plane of reality, one that
only exists in your imagination and
this Highway is
your start off point in going there," and, I would go
into a programmed mode that my
controllers called
the Highway to Heaven zone. There were landmarks
(landmines) all over California
that they used in
order to keep me in line, "in the right state of
mind."
Danny's mind files
were filled with data early on and expanded after he
was three years old. I
drove him to Point
Mugu or we were intercepted at the intersection of
Kanan and Agoura Road, and go
in the car with
these men. They usually drove a dark colored sedan with
tinted windows. Whether I drove
or not, these men
took my son from me in the car at Point Mugu in the
morning, and returned him back
to me at the car by
late afternoon. He would just limply lie on my lap
all the way home, and then I put
him to bed in his
crib where he slept until the next morning without
waking.
Whenever he and I
would go to the beach to fly a kite or play in the
sand, they always took him
away from me and
brought him back later. Once some men on a Coast Guard
boat took him from me at
Zuma Beach when he
and I were playing. He was around five. They came up
close to shore, yet remained
just beyond the
crest of the waves. A lifeguard type guy in a red
swimsuit that was about 25 years old
took Danny by the
hand from the beach and swam out to the boat with
him. Then they took off with my
son, while I stayed
on the beach waiting, just sitting all alone,
zombie-like until they returned my son. I
helped Danny walk
back to our brown station wagon and we went home.
Henry Kissinger
filled Danny with high-level information, intended to
span many years and to be
delivered whenever
necessary at specific future dates to large crowds
of people. Danny had historical
files put in, as
did I.
At Born Learners
Preschool at three to four years of age, Danny started
special computer classes
that kept him at
school long hours, sometimes into the evening. When I
asked him if he wanted to stop
he always said he
loved it, as did his best friend Justin. I believe
programmers do more of the training via
computer screen
now, often using virtual reality. After computer class,
I took the two of them to
Monarch's
Gymnastics, the same gymnastics school his older brother and
sister went to for lessons. I
236
usually waited in
the car or ran errands while they were there and I
was always so exhausted I could
hardly stay awake.
I had usually been to therapy abreacting the horrors
of my own childhood and hurried
home from Westwood
to pick up Danny and Justin from preschool, and
later on Danny from
Kindergarten. I
didn't like Mike, the man who ran the gymnastics
center. He had a very bad temper and
was often
emotionally out of control. Kevin, Kelly and Danny all went
to Monarch's Gymnastics in
conjunction with
the Montessori preschools.
I thought I would
not be able to bear the pain and grief when I began
remembering scenarios of
the ways in which I
had been programmed to be a part of my children's
preschool mind control
experiences. This
is information I would prefer to withhold because it
goes against everything I believe
in, but in order
for people to understand how this system works, it is
necessary for me to share the
following. Keep in
mind that this scenario could have happened to any
three of my children and indeed it
did. But once
again, I will use an experience I remembered about Danny
because, for whatever reason, I
have more memory
retrieved about him.
This event occurred
in Danny's preschool. On occasion, I helped out in
the class. I remembered
standing with
Danny's preschool teachers who were instructing the
children in a game where they all had
to take their
clothes off, step onto a colored circle and then take
turns doing sexual acts to the child next
to them. The
teachers were laughing and clapping and everything seemed
surreal, just like it always did
when programmed
events of horror occurred. As the game progressed, with
music playing in the
background, the
children looked progressively more stunned. They were
told to walk in a circle and stop
on a color. If they
didn't do what they were told, the teacher yanked
them out of the circle by the arm and
yelled at them. I
couldn't tell what she said but it scared the child
into compliance. The games always
took place at the
same time in the mornings and were centered around
colors, music, body movement
and hand signals.
Hand signals were taught to the children this way and
put to music for reinforcement.
There was a VCR off
to the side of the classroom where an individual
child was placed to watch a
special
pre-selected tape. The child was taken out of the circle, sat
in front of the VCR and told to focus
on the movie. This
way each child got the individual training they were
supposed to have according to
what their
curriculum planners felt were their strengths and career
aptitudes. All of the special private
preschools my
children went to took this approach. And, ritual trauma
and sexual perversion was often
the way we were
programmed to begin with the children.
Danny completed
computer classes in preschool before he was four years
old. During my
deprogramming
process, I was horrified when I remembered that I
continually read him the story of
Danny and the
Dinosaur. As I re-read the story years later, I found a
phrase in the book, which states,
"there's no place
to run, no place to hide. " And here again was
another example of how 1, as his
programmed parent,
was used to keep my own son's programming locked
tightly in place, reinforcing
the programs that
were used to keep the parts of his mind that were
compartmentalized for our
controller's use,
separate from his conscious everyday awareness. And
consciously, neither of us had any
idea that any of
this was occurring.
Henry Kissinger has
been Danny's main man. He was the one calling the
shots and organized the
creation of Danny's
mind files for NASA/military use. Danny was, and
may still be, scheduled for a major
position within
NASA one day, following in the footsteps of his
grandfather Ford and Uncle Lyle Curran.
They have him
scheduled to become a scientist or something of that
nature. I overheard Henry talking to
someone about it.
Danny has very
specific programming themes that center around all the
planets - Jupiter, Mars,
Venus, Pluto,
Saturn, etc., and I was programmed to tell him often
before he went to sleep, "I love you to
the moon and much,
much, much, much, more than that. A thousand times
more than that. A trillion
times more than
that," and on and on until we got to the highest number
beyond infinity, and Danny
knew that number.
For some reason I can't remember it. I never could.
Then, he would go to sleep.
237
Danny and Kelly
both had those neon, glow-in-the-dark stars and planets
on their ceilings and so
did 1. Danny has
tons of high tech information in his brain. I saw him
demonstrated at Point Mugu when
they put him in
front of a group to demonstrate his capabilities. Henry
took Danny to different locations
to 'display the
technology,' showing that a five year old could appear
to be genius level, "a computer
whiz." He had mega
memory, displaying the intelligence level of what
they termed a "Junior College
Student." Danny was
seen as having the intelligence of the future and
they said he would blossom in high
school, whatever
that meant. They said that, by then, Danny would be
fully functional and used by them
extensively in
international work. Henry talked a lot about Danny and I
remember Danny holding onto
Henry's leg one
time when he was demonstrating Danny in front of a
whole group of people. Despite the
programming, Danny
remained very shy until he was 5 years old.
Danny was also
traumatized at Disneyland year after year. The
Matterhorn ride was one they used
before they took
him away from me at Disneyland for other programming.
There was further
programming done at Edwards Air Force Base. Craig
took us all there as a
family in our
camper and we stayed overnight and were programmed the
next morning. Two men in
white uniforms came
to get Danny and me from the camper and compliantly
and mindlessly we went
with them. Kelly,
in her little strawberry blouse, was crying that she
didn't want Danny to go and Craig
held her and
spanked her leg to stop her crying. The men took us
through glass doors and we were
escorted once again
to the big chair, where the nightmare started all
over. We sat side by side in the big
heavy, metal chair
while we looked into the large goggles that were
placed in front of our faces. Before
they began, we were
injected with a drug. Earphones played music at
times, but mostly sound effects,
while they told us
we were 'one' and the solar system that we saw
through our eyes would now exist in
the innermost
regions of our mind. There was a beautiful visual of the
stars and planets and the whole
universe. They told
us that we each had a system, but that we also had
the other half of the other person's
system much like
those friendship bracelets that are separated and when
they come together they are
whole. Afterwards,
Danny's eyes seemed to be moving all over the place
at once and not together. Even
in my drugged state
I was terrified for my child. Looking at what his
eyes were doing was scary.
Afterwards, they
escorted us out and I helped my little boy into the
camper and laid him up on the top
bed so he could
sleep. He lay backwards on the bed and didn't move,
totally out of it for the rest of the
day. I walked
around outside in this big white gravel parking lot with
the other kids in a total zombie-like
state. I felt
totally drugged out of my mind and I fell asleep sitting
up outside. When I woke up, I ran
frantically into
the camper to check on Danny. I held him and loved
him. He looked to me like he was
going to die. I
said, "I love you Danny, is there anything I can do for
you?" He was sucking his thumb by
then and without
any words, shook his head no. So I just held him.
Kelly was taken to
military bases in Ventura, Oxnard, Point Mugu, and
Edwards Air Force Base,
but Danny went
mostly to Point Mugu. The whole family went to Edwards
Air Force Base. Sometimes
from Point Mugu,
they would helicopter Danny away and I never knew
where they took him. Parts of
Danny were
programmed very early on to play the perfect game of chess,
in order to take up where I left
off in deciphering
and delivering cryptic messages.
Catalina Island
Excursions
One or two weeks a
year were set aside for a planned vacation. Extended
weekend excursions were
commonplace, often
planned at the last minute. But, our August week on
Catalina Island, 26 miles off
the California
coast, was a standing vacation for years. Craig and I
went there almost every year from
1971 until I left
California in 1991; nearly 20 years. My children
still go there with their father and, now
that they are
older, they have gone independently.
210
238
I was used on
Catalina Island, for sexual rendezvous with Reagan and/or
sometimes other public
officials or
entertainers. I was programmed to have sex with Reagan at
the Wrigley Mansion, the Zane
Grey and other
hotels on the island. It seems Reagan was usually on the
island anonymously; for security
purposes, no one
was to know he was there.
While I was busy
carrying out my duties, I had no idea what my children
and husband were up to.
It seems likely
that there was some reason they had us all there
together.
We're Paying Taxes
For What?!
And, I am sure that
you the reader were unaware that your hard earned
tax dollars were being
spent on security,
airflight, and high tech programming in order that
Presidents and leaders could be
extramaritally
satisfied sexually, and that messages fueling the
success and implementation of the New
World Order could
be sent and returned via a national security
mind-controlled asset. Not to mention
the salary of
politicians and NSA people like Henry Kissinger who spent
countless hours strategizing
agendas to carry
out their personal plans. I can only imagine the cost
to privately helicopter, task a team
of Secret Service
agents, coiffure, and ready a mindcontrolled
operative and then pay a limo to deliver
her to her
assignment. A few years ago my daughter was transported via
ambulance after one of her
many suicide
attempts, as she carried out her program command to kill
herself if she began to
remember. That bill
alone was unfathomable.
"...but you shall
cry out for pain of heart, and shall wail for anguish
of spirit." -- Isaiah 65:14
239
Brice Taylor -
Thanks for the Memories
Chapter Twenty-six:
Dodger Diamonds
The following
information documents some, but by no means all, of the
experiences I recovered in
relation to my use
with Tommy Lasorda and the Los Angeles Dodgers. I
have randomly selected specific
events I believe
will aid you the reader in understanding just how far
mind control, gone unchecked, has
proliferated.
Tommy Lasorda gave
a new meaning to the Dodger lineup. Instead of the
Dodgers lining up, it
was women and
children lining up for the baseball team to choose from,
for sex. A Dodger incentive to
do better - to win
more! If they won, they got to choose - if they
lost, no women.
"Dodger diamonds"
had a double meaning. In addition to the baseball
diamond as on a baseball
field, in my
experience, it also referred to the "Dodger Diamonds," the
mind-controlled women the
Dodgers could
select from for sex. Lasorda often spoke in cryptic
language, intended to manipulate and
inspire the
Dodgers. Here's an example. One evening as he spoke to the
team, he said, "If you play good
on the Dodger
diamond (the playing field), you will get in return a
'Dodger Diamond"' (a sex slave).
Presidential model
sex slaves often wore diamonds as program
identifiers. My daughter and I wore
diamonds, as well.
Back in the men's
locker room when the women and children in the
"Dodger lineup" were in their
places, Lasorda
would point to a woman or child who had been 'chosen'
by a player and say, "he'll take
that one." He never
referred to anyone by name - always just pointed
and said, "that one." It was part of
the "game" they
played after a win. The Dodgers weren't allowed to just
go up and pick one of us. They
had to tell Lasorda
who they wanted and then he would make the
announcement. We then stepped
forward to the
player we were chosen by and went with him to another
room, corner or wherever he
pleased. Sometimes
the locker room was filled with Dodgers having sex
with women and children at the
7th inning stretch,
to "inspire and invigorate the team," as Lasorda
would say. But most of the time it
was done after a
winning game.
Sometimes I got
stuck with that little short guy - the one that walked
like a duck to first base. His
name was Ron Cey.
He would often pick me from the lineup. After I was
chosen, he would lean against
the wall with one
arm and talk casually to me for a minute before he
had sex with me. He was impressed
with how well I
could have sex standing up against the wall. He also
liked my hair and the whole idea
that I was married.
He seemed to know all about me, while I knew
nothing about him, except that he
smelled like sweat
and was really gross to the personality inside me
who was created especially for this
Dodger purpose.
Cyndy Garvey (Steve
Garvey's now ex-wife) was often part of the "Dodger
lineup" of women and
children to be
chosen by the Dodgers for sex after a winning game. My
daughter Kelly was also
occasionally used.
They usually put Krisha and Whitney (the Garvey's
young daughters) into the lineup.
The players who
performed the best during the game got to choose first.
One night when they
put Krisha and Whitney in the lineup, it was
Whitney's first night. She was
now "old enough" to
participate, in spite of the fact that she was only
four or five years old. Cyndy started
screaming, "No, not
Whitty!" (That was the nickname she called
Whitney.) Two men stepped forward
and grabbed Cyndy
by the arms and whisked her away. They took her into
the next room and we could
all hear her
screaming. It was awful.
"If you step out of
line, you always pay the price, maybe with your
life." Lasorda said. Then they
took Whitney out of
the line and into a side room, and we could all
hear her screaming and crying.
240
Lasorda said to
those of us remaining, "We won't have that problem
anymore, will we." He was very
brutal.
When they brought
Cyndy back into the room, Lasorda said Cyndy's
behavior had caused Whitney
to get hurt. He
said, "If the mother had acted respectably, there
wouldn't have been a problem."
When they brought
Whitney back out, she could barely walk. She didn't
make it into the lineup
that night; she was
too injured.
I experienced and
witnessed these types of horrors that kept me from
ever interfering with what
they were doing to
my children, especially Kelly. I knew from
experience that they would hurt her worse
if I ever tried to
protect her.
On nights the
Dodgers lost, there was no Dodger lineup game and we
would all go home, but not
before the Dodgers
saw us lined up and then leaving. Tommy said he
wanted the boys to learn from their
mistakes and to
have incentive to win big. "Big wins equals big bucks,"
Lasorda said.
Tommy Lasorda and
others humiliated Cyndy. They brought me into the
locker room and put me
up against the
shower wall. They put Cyndy across the room but close
by, and they brought Steve in. He
had sex with me
standing up against the wall. Cyndy was forced to watch
and then someone, usually
Lasorda, would tell
her she wasn't good enough or enough of a woman for
Steve. They told her she was
stupid and
backward. Then Lasorda slapped her across the face really
hard. I don't know why they did
that, but they did
it to me also and I watched other women get slapped
often. While this was going on,
Steve was laughing
sadistically. Cyndy looked like she wasn't really
"there." Soon after, Tommy Lasorda
took her out and
sat her behind the dug out where she usually sat
during the games - being the dutiful
and supportive
Dodger wife.
On nights like
these, Tommy gave the press orders not to talk to or
interview Cyndy. He told them
if they did he
would have them thrown out of the ballpark and he would
have their job. If they asked why,
he would say,
"She's not quite herself tonight."
In line with the
information about Project Monarch, some rich people
actually own certain
Dodger players and
their children. Often it's cryptically called
"sponsoring," but it's really ownership
(much like owning a
racehorse) because the owner makes all the
decisions about the players life without
the knowledge or
consent of the player. When the player does well, the
owner collects large sums of
money from behind
the scenes.
Steve Garvey, his
(now ex) wife Cyndy, and their two children were
"sponsored" (owned) by some
wealthy person and
from what I saw, the family was manipulated much the
same way mine was, through
mind control, for
the financial benefit of others.
One night I
watched, as I waited for the "lineup," while Lasorda was
coaching the team. He
chalked a diagram
of the field onto a large chalkboard. The Dodgers
were all sitting on a bench in front of
him. Lasorda spoke
in funny rhymes to some of the players, rhymes that
didn't make much sense to me.
It seemed that the
players were like robots that were robotically
manipulated by the words Lasorda
spoke to them. I
overheard him say, "Steve (Garvey), you will hit a
home run. Ron (Cey), you will bunt
since you're a
runt. Only runts bunt." And he went on and on like that,
seeming to program the plays into
the players.
I never did end up
watching much of the ballgames. If I tried I
couldn't concentrate to watch
because I was
programmed to not see the players or to recognize them if
I should see them. I was preprogrammed
to not look at the
Dodgers with the phrase, "there will be blood
everywhere, if you continue
to stare," or "you
won't recognize them anywhere, you won't even know
they are there." People who
didn't know how I
was programmed often teased me about my inability to
follow or understand baseball
games. One time,
after attending games for a long time, I asked my
husband and the couple that was
with us, "Who are
those men down there in suits?"
They looked at me
like I was retarded and laughed in embarrassment for
my question, and then
explained, "Those
are the umpires." I didn't know. I was just obeying
program.
Craig took me to
the Dodger games, but I never wanted to go. I hated to
go, but had no reason I
could "think" of
for not liking or attending the games. Sometimes our
small children would go with us,
241
and then they would
show up in the "Dodger lineup" to be used by the
Dodgers for sex. I felt very out
of control, despite
the mind control I was under. Personalities inside
of me didn't know how my children
got there or how
they would get home or if they would be safe or
killed. Craig stood and watched like a
zombie and often
had this strange, nervous laugh that happened when he
was anxiously trying to be a
part of things. We
were both totally helpless to think or act in order
to protect our children or ourselves.
Tommy Lasorda was
connected to a lot of mob-type men. They were always
around Dodger
Stadium in their
suits with concealed weapons.
At times there were
secret, private meetings at Dodger Stadium during
the games. Sometimes the
meetings were
between politicians and at other times there were
meetings where drug deals took place,
or meetings between
mob members and other top leaders in politics
and/or the entertainment field.
These meetings
often took place during the time the games were being
played. In the early years, money
was transferred for
drugs, illegal stocks, bonds, or other investments.
Money in briefcases was
exchanged for
something in another briefcase. In my experience, this
could have been anytime from 1976
on. Bob Hope was
limoed in just for a brief exchange and then left
quickly. He had a thing for Cyndy,
always kissing her
and touching her breasts while she just stood
robotically.
Whoever owned the
Dodgers at one time used to come into the big fancy
restaurant there at
Dodger Stadium or
into the locker room. Many times Bob Hope would limo
me in and give me specific
instructions on how
to seduce this man and ask him key questions or
deliver messages. One owner had
dark skin, dark
hair, was average build, and always wore a suit and
dark glasses. He liked it when I took
his glasses off his
face, laid them down and started kissing him. He
wore strong cologne and black
underwear, and had
a holder for a gun he carried on his ankle. I was
used to "disarming" men by
"carefully"
removing their weapons while I was seducing and disrobing
them. I was instructed to do that
sometimes for
people who wanted others eliminated. They sent me in to
seduce and disarm the person
and then they would
send in a hit man. I wasn't functional for days
after one of these events so they quit
using me for that
type of assignment.
This particular
Dodger owner didn't like to be seen in public. He
didn't operate alone and had a
company of mob-type
men who worked for him. One day Bob Hope sent me in
to "console" him. He was
sitting alone on a
locker room bench. I walked up to him and put my
hand on his back so as not to startle
him. He knew me and
thought I worked for Lasorda. So, he let me go
through my routine as I kissed him,
rubbed his neck,
and got him calm and relaxed. Then he said, "Let's get
out of here." And he took me to a
room at the stadium
that is plush with a big bed in it. He ordered a
bottle of champagne and caviar from
the restaurant and
we got it quickly. I used the little white pills I
was instructed to place in drinks to get
the most
cooperation when I was sent in to gather information. He had
sex with me and afterwards I
asked him questions
about a Colombian drug connection. I asked him
where the transactions were
taking place and he
said, "Jamaica." Then I asked him when they were
taking place and he
answered, "in the
spring when the apple blossoms are on the trees." And
I asked him "who" and he told
me, "Tommy's group
and the Feds." It seemed like everyone always knew
everyone else.
Reagan came to the
Stadium on occasion. He often met with Hope. They
met in the restaurant
there when the
restaurant was closed to the general public and made
plans. I know because I was witness
to their
conversations as I sat with them. Sometimes my job was to
listen and correct them if anything
they said went
against something in my data/mind files. These deals
were connected up to whoever was
in the White House
at the time. Reagan, Ford, and Bush were all there
at different times. With the
Presidents, it
seemed that there was already built into this corrupt
drug/porn network a place or slot for
the highest levels
of government - the President - because the people
who were Presidents came and
went, but the job
they did was always the same. It seemed like the
stadium was a place where they could
meet undetected or
something.
242
On occasion I was
flown away in a helicopter with Secret Service agents
and taken to DC and
debriefed or given
new information to deliver somewhere else around the
country. Then I was flown
home.
Leaders from all
over met at the Dodger Stadium. It was where the U.S.
Government, White
House level and
state level, met with the Mob drug connections and made
"deals." These deals were
made with people
and leaders from all over the world. No one ever knew
they were there as they were
limoed or
helicoptered in and out at precise times--carefully
coordinated and timed by the Secret
Service.
During the time
Steve Garvey was playing for the Dodgers he had an
office in Calabasas that was
used by him and the
group that controlled him for illegal activities
and pornography-adult and kiddy
porn. I was filmed
pornographically in Steve's so-called office with a
variety of people, including himself,
his wife, and his
children. Even my own children were pornographically
filmed there at different times.
Sometimes they
filmed my daughter Kelly with Whitney and Krisha in
kiddie porn. Lots of other
children were
filmed pornographically including our oldest son Kevin.
But these weren't filmed at
Dodger Stadium;
instead they were filmed in private offices or homes.
Cyndy and I were
filmed together in porn, at Steve's office. We both
had little skimpy French maid
aprons on and
nothing else. Cyndy wore something like a black eye mask,
maybe in their effort to
disguise her. She
had a bowl of whipped cream that she held and smeared
all over her body and I was
forced to lick it
off of her while they filmed. I was told beforehand
what to do and say. They took close up
shots when I was
commanded to perform oral sex on her.
There was other
pornography shot during this time, beginning in the
1980's. When my daughter
Kelly was old
enough (3 and up) they began filming Cyndy, our
daughters, and myself. A title to one of
these films was
Mommy and Me.
Porn of Cyndy and I
was filmed on a private beach in Malibu. I was
picked up in a white van and
at other times was
picked up by a limo. Cyndy, some dogs, and I were
running naked on the beach while
they filmed us.
Some of this was filmed in the "Colony" in front of one
of Barbra Streisand's homes.
Barbra wasn't home
when they took us to do the porn.
"Our love must not
be a thing of words and fine talk. It must be a
thing of action and sincerity." --
I John 3:18
243
Brice Taylor -
Thanks for the Memories
Chapter
Twenty-seven: Education 2000
Las Virgenes School
District
Henry once said,
"There is nothing more convincing than to have a
pregnant woman speaking out
for educational
issues." He had me speaking to groups that were
involved in various aspects of education
from the top
officials and big wigs down to California State
legislators. He said I was fighting to increase
the level of
education for my future progeny; starting now, so by the
time they were in school I could rest
assured that they
would get the finest education possible.
I began this in
1978 when I was very pregnant with Kelly. He used me in
Sacramento to "further
legislation for our
children's education." And I went to Washington,
DC, when it became necessary to
take what had been
won in California in the way of educational
advancement and present it to influential
people in DC who
could make a difference in furthering this goal.
California was the model and once the
framework was set
they wanted the new educational system to be used
nationwide, but that took
planning and
fortitude. Years of preparation went into this to insure
that the nation's children would be
ready for the year
2000, when their transformation of the masses would
be complete. "...And peace will
guide the planet
and love will rule the stars ...the dawning of the Age
of Aquarius." Through
programming, this
song was instilled within my mind to anchor a lot of
this educational activity and to
also bring me under
a greater influence of my true birth sign,
Aquarius. The plan was for my
humanitarian
interests to be of such a magnitude that I would become
internationally known as a leader
in ending child
ritual abuse. This focus would have served to keep
those who found out about this abuse
"busy" and
distracted with "satanic behavior," and still not aware of
mind control, until they could
gradually implement
the transformation to get people more completely
under control. They referred to
the time frame
after the year 2000 takeover, as "The Great
Transformation."
Don Zimring, the
Superintendent of Schools for the Las Virgenes School
District (LVSD) was
heavily involved in
deciding which children got special instruction.
Each 'special' child in the school had
their own program
design and was individually monitored so they would
get the early training and
conditioning they
would need to fulfill their destined position within
the hidden inner circle framework.
I was programmed to
report to the LVSD office to see Don Zimring in
order to be "instructed" in regard
to the "special"
children who were in need of individual attention and
individual programs. I sat before
him in a robotic
"sponge" state, while he rattled off profiles of
children and special videos or instruction
booklets they were
to be subjected to. By the time the children hit
elementary school they were
conditioned
sufficiently so that their "programs" could be absorbed
readily and easily through just saying
a word that opened
their access way to special abilities, like
photographic memory or rapid learning
states. Many women,
purposefully placed in teacher and principal
positions, were either programmed
themselves or just
didn't pay attention when a child was removed from
class for "special instruction."
Children were
targeted for their natural talents and abilities. For
example, in families who were
athletically
inclined, or where one or both parents excelled in sports,
they put in access codes for "super
athletes" and then
someone from higher up had the option of stepping in
and 'sponsoring' a child with a
promising future.
Which meant that this "higher up" funded socalled
'special education' for this child,
often without the
parent's conscious involvement or consent, and from
then on had a special interest in
how things were
taught to the child. Kelly was monitored closely,
always having a special tutor to "shore
her up." Our
controllers viewed her as a young beauty and noted her
extremely positive social skills and
built upon those.
There was an "inner group" of school officials,
parents and teachers who were involved
in seeing to it
that the preconditioned children were groomed in the
ways necessary for them to step into
future
pre-designated positions.
244
The people behind
this scheme have done endless research on the brain
in response to
everything,
including spinning rides at amusement parks, and know just
what level of stimulation is
needed to make
programming most effective. Over the years the research
has been tried and tested
through the
experimentation on children who were targeted before birth.
The genetic engineering aspect
is highly used and
they take into consideration the inherent genetic
talents and abilities coupled with just
the right training
at the right age to produce a "highly advanced
child." But, in essence, what they truly
have created is a
highly advanced robot that has been dehumanized to
the point of not being able to
think or choose for
themselves. They have been robbed of their free
will or any real choice in their lives.
The California
Capital 'Sexcramento' and Senator Pete Wilson
The organization
and framework is large. There were many people
involved and the technology
over the years has
risen to the level where children in the preschools
require less trauma and torture in
the beginning
stages to set in the "cues and programs" that will be
built upon in later years. Pete Wilson
was very involved
with all of this and was set into position in the
1980's. I was sent to Sacramento with
Ann Eklund, the
principal of Sumac Elementary School, in the early
1980's, to set up these programs
through the school
districts. Although at the time I didn't know I was
participating in this, years later,
during a flashback,
I remembered boarding a plane with her, getting off
with her and being met by a taxi
that drove us to
offices of the California State Department of
Education. It seems that the instructions to
implement these
"special programs" filtered down from "the top." The
higher ups see it as
technologically
advancing the children, creating "mega minds of the
future" for later use within their
own system. The
children are force fed information into previously set
up inner systems of mind files and
are trained to be
able to accept vast amounts of highly technological
information beginning at age three.
They are not taught
to think, but only to be used and accessed like a
computer.
Ann Eklund was
highly involved in the project and had been since its
inception. The framework
was set into great
motion in Sacramento in the early 80's between Ann,
Don Zimring, Pete Wilson and
several officials
from Washington, DC. I was flown to DC to speak
before a committee meeting to
describe how the
program was progressing. Sometimes a child would be
"demonstrated" to the
committee to show
the advanced mind technology that was possible.
Disbelieving Senators and
Congressmen 'in the
know,' needed to see to believe. The child could be
made to perform on cue and
recite mega amounts
of highly complex technological information. They
saw these children as being
prototypal
descendents of mine. These particular politicians knew how I
was used with Henry Kissinger
and were "amazed"
to know that any similarly conditioned child could
possess the same qualities of
mind ability.
Reagan was also involved and so was Bush. Our
instructions for individual children's
programming often
came from the White House level as many of these
wealthy people "adopted" and
"supported"
children "with promise." These elite overseers viewed the
'special' children as the minds of
the future, the
future world leaders, preprogrammed with their own
wisdom and desires for how they
feel the world
should be run, based on their own values. GOD HELP US!
LVSD was the No. l
pilot program and many funds were approved to be
used within the school
district, but were
actually skimmed off the top to finance a lot of
"special programs," really aimed at the
children who had
been targeted. Children who were targeted were
dismissed from class, taken to a room
for special
attention and were hooked up to special audio tapes, linked
with accompanying picture books,
in the beginning
years, and then later on to computers and sound. Large
reels of film were used
occasionally when
not available on video and it was timely for the
information to be "visually cued" into a
child's brain. But
usually it was done by video or computer. It created
complex brain function and set up
controls within the
child that these people manipulated. They have
performed experiment after
experiment over the
years to develop the most effective equipment to
use on children. Much of the
funding earmarked
for use within the school district was siphoned off
to be used for research and to pay
technicians to
develop and test the equipment, computer programs, etc.
During that time, many of the
state school funds
were misappropriated and used for things other than
what they were approved for.
245
I am pretty sure
now that the memories I had of accompanying Reagan to
Point Mugu and other
places for
speeches, was when I was being "demonstrated" to others and
was cued to speak about the
same technology
that was being used with children three, four, and five
years old. Reagan used me often
for demonstration
because he said I stood the test of time, which meant
that I had been in operation for
over 30 years
without a leak, or without a problem. I heard him explain
to people that I was so "real" that
he sometimes forgot
I was a programmed robot. He said he liked that
because, "you get all the benefits of
a robot with human
softness added." He was very proud of the technology
and spoke freely about it
within a trusted
group. I was presented to the military, to
politicians, etc., for them to see and witness
the technology, and
then I presented my pre-programmed information.
Many requested private
demonstrations of
my sexual capabilities in order to become believers.
Whenever there were men at the
presentations, and
usually they were men, there were private one-on-one
sexual demonstrations
afterwards.
In my head, when I
was retrieving these memories, I kept hearing the
phrase, "Senate
subcommittee
meetings on advancing education in America." I remember
Pete Wilson speaking and
there was a
demonstration done on the educational system that had
nothing to do with what was actually
going on behind the
scenes, but they had to justify the large amounts
of money that they were trying to
appropriate for
their secret system. It was all a sham - they knew they
would get the money, they knew
where it was coming
from and how they could get it. It was just a
matter of making the steps and actions
look like it was
all above-board, while behind the scenes they planned
the new technology in education,
privately. Their
attitudes were that other people in the private sector
wouldn't be able to grasp what they
were doing because
they didn't have the required intellect. So, they
justified its secrecy this way, feeling
this new system was
the advancement of society and until people could
really see the results in action
and how effective
these methods of education would be in the
advancement of society, they needed to
keep the
methodology quiet. They used big words to intimidate those
people they wanted to leave them
alone and they were
quite successful at accomplishing that. People who
couldn't understand what they
were saying would
back down and walk away. They used me for this
project beginning in the early 80's
and didn't care
whether I was pregnant or just out of the hospital or
what. They just overrode what my
personal situation
was by using my multiplicity.
Pete Wilson was
probably elected governor so that they could pull this
whole thing off without any
problem. Ann Eklund
introduced me to him in the very early 80's and the
sexual connection was made,
then I was fed
information by the Council (from the hotel room in the
Holiday Inn or the Marriott) to
"deliver" to Pete
even in the early years. He jumped though all the
hoops they presented to him with no
problem and so they
kept promoting him just like they did Reagan. Only
difference was, Reagan seemed
ignorant compared
to Pete and I guess that meant that Pete was more
knowledgeable and better
informed about
certain situations, beyond acting in accordance with
what the Council wanted. Reagan
just acted in
accordance, like a puppet with no understanding of what
he was doing in so many
situations, always
worried about the state of affairs of the Nation,
but easily calmed and his attention
diverted to another
subject.
The school district
plans were directly tied into the preschool abuse.
They made sure they had
"qualified"
preschools set up in areas near the elementary and
secondary education schools so the
children would be
"prepared" before entering kindergarten. Then the
public school system had in place
the network of
people to carry out the children's "further education."
The controllers have people placed
in positions, high
up, in widely varying areas to fund their plan and
to fill the positions required in order
to make it
successful. They had programmed people in place from the
janitor all the way up to the school
district
supervisors and on into the state and federal government. All
key positions were filled to make
sure their plan is
implemented and failsafe. They moved key people
around as needed.
246
In 1985, not long
after my April 12th auto accident, I continued on as
coordinator of the
carnival at Sumac
Elementary. I had been working on it for months. But
I was in so much pain that I had
to do it with a
neck brace and the aid of Percodan. My mother and
father even attended, with my father
in a wheel
chair-all this took place before I remembered any of my
past. The funds that came from that
little Saturday
event were significant enough, with thousands of
dollars raised, that the head of the Park
and Recreation
Department for Agoura invited me to be the fundraiser
for the local parks department.
Between the money
earned by this carnival and the large sums earned by
the Agoura Great Race,
organized by a
friend of mine, the school was able to buy computers,
turning a whole section of a stage
area into row after
row of computers. It was a few years later that I
began remembering a little boy
sitting at one of
those computers working away, 'lost in time.' I
walked behind him and, as programmed,
I intentionally
lost my balance and drove my knee into his back in
order to further 'dissociate' him, and
then I tapped him
on his left shoulder twice. There was usually a word
command coupled with these
actions, something
that would cue the child back into a specific mind
state or program at a later date. I
also remember going
up to one of Danny's teachers and saying something
like, "Are you going to teach
the child about
Napoleon?" Napoleon was the key word. I don't know what
it did or was suppose to do to
the teacher, but it
also was coupled with a tap on the left shoulder.
Of course, while I know that I didn't
consciously plan
why I said that, I also wonder who coordinated all of
this, cueing me to cue her and
some of the
students.
This new computer
area installed at Sumac Elementary got the 'special'
children out of class and
gave anyone who
wanted to approach them, access to them. They got a
permission slip from their
teacher and went by
themselves to the computer area. Later, in therapy,
I remembered pulling a
videotape from my
purse and coming up behind a child and changing what
he was watching on a VCR.
Later, they had
computer disks that were similarly brought in. These
children had been targeted since
they were very
small. Many children at the school did not receive this
"special attention" - only those who
were to become
leaders in the future and those who were sponsored.
Of course, in the
intentionally created reality driven by the mind
control I was under, I simply
believed that I was
a good wife and dutiful mother. I had no way of
knowing I was being used in this way.
"If I can stop one
heart from breaking, I shall not live in vain.
If I can ease one
life the aching, or cool one pain,
Or help one
fainting robin into his nest again, I shall not live in
vain. "
-- Emily Dickinson
247
Brice Taylor -
Thanks for the Memories
Chapter
Twenty-eight: Reagan, Kissinger, Bush and More Horrors
One day, on
assignment, I was standing at the top of a very tall set of
four or five tiers of marble
stairs. President
Reagan walked out of a room below and paused a moment
before he looked up and saw
me. Quickly he put
his finger to his lips and I knew that meant to keep
quiet. He motioned for me to
come downstairs and
meet him outside. I promptly looked away from him
so I wouldn't be publicly
noticed or
connected with him, and started walking. Once outside, a
Secret Service agent directed me
toward a limo and
as I got close he took hold of my head and pushed me
inside. I was waiting when
Reagan arrived. He
stepped in backwards so no one from the outside
would be able to see me. After the
door was shut, he
smiled and kissed me and said that he had missed me.
He said he needed me to go
with him to the
Pentagon to introduce me to some friends of his.
There I was exposed
to file after file of small typed information and
was introduced to an officer
who had on a dark
blue uniform with gold trim that looked like a Navy
uniform. Reagan instructed this
man to show me
information that was top-secret. This was information I
needed to have in my mind files
for some upcoming
meeting. Then Reagan left. I followed this man to his
office and watched while he
opened his file
drawer, took out some files and laid them open on his
desk. He left me with them and
went out of the
room, locking the door behind him, locking me inside. I
was in his office for quite some
time and went over
four files in detail. I couldn't remember the
details when I was deprogramming the
documents to read
them to you now. The officer kept checking on me and
when I was through he
escorted me to a
waiting limo. Reagan wasn't there.
White House Humor
"Once in the White
House always in the White House, I know my own way
upstairs!" Bob
programmed me to
say to Presidents.
When I said that to
Reagan he said he didn't find that amusing. I told
him, "Well Bob said for me
to say that."
Reagan immediately
softened up, laughed and said, "You tell that ole'
buzzard I said hello."
Once you are on the
list "to do the White House" they keep using you
over and over if your Boss
man agrees.
Cozumel
During September of
1984 or 1986, Craig and I went to Cozumel on a
scuba diving vacation with a
group of dental
friends. A day and a half of the trip was reserved for
Reagan. The men in suits came for
me in the middle of
the night. It often happened that way, where they
just appeared in the room and took
me away. They said
they had come to "prepare me," which I knew meant
torture and isolation, to be
readied for my time
with Reagan. I was put into a cement utility room.
It was dark except for the pilot
light from a hot
water heater located in the corner. That was the only
light until daylight. I was stripped
naked and left in
the cold cement room all night alone. The men opened
the door every so often and used
electro-shock on
me, by putting a prod on my hips. My body contorted
and convulsed, and my hands
involuntarily rose
uncontrollably into the air. Then, I collapsed into
a heap on the floor and they told me
to keep standing,
not to sit down or go to sleep. They checked in on me
every so often, to see if I sat down
or had fallen
asleep, and if I had, they zapped me again with high
voltage, and even if I hadn't they would
zap me. Either way,
I got it.
If I had to go to
the bathroom, I went in a corner and then they would
slap me for that. The men
in suits were
brutal. Slapping me, shinning bright lights in my eyes,
shocking my body. . . it was sheer
torture. They
injected my arm with some drug and I slumped over. One of
them covered me up with a
248
sheet and carried
me to a black car, and the next thing I knew I woke
up in a hotel room where I was
told to shower,
wash my hair and dress in the clothes they left for me.
When I finished
dressing, they took me to a dimly lit restaurant where
Reagan was sitting in a
candlelit booth,
already eating. It was late and there weren't any
other people in the restaurant. Reagan
smiled and took my
left hand activating my touch program as he squeezed
it. He winked at me as he
continued eating. I
just sat with him, with the Secret Service waiting
behind him, while he ate. I was very
out of it, and was
having trouble focusing to keep myself together. My
inner system of personalities was
programmed to never
make a mistake in regard to which personality was
"presenting." I was forewarned
by my controllers
that if this ever happened it would be a fatal
mistake and I was programmed to keep
my inner
personality system in check by an internal oversight committee
that decided who was to be out
in a split second
snap of the fingers. It wasn't that I was switched to
the wrong personality for this event;
I think, at that
moment, I was just physically incapable of performing.
Reagan said, "You
look beautiful as always." I smiled shyly and he
lifted his hand up, brushed my
hair off my
shoulder and pushed on the side of my neck. I felt like my
eyes rolled out of my head. He
looked to the
Secret Service agents and said that he didn't think I was
"quite ready. "
The Secret Service
agents took me outside into the ocean air and walked
me around a bit and then
took me back to
him. They said, "Perform!" and I sat down, this time
more alert, bubbly and talkative!
Finished eating by
now, Reagan took my hand again and said, "Let's get
out of here." We walked
through the kitchen
and out the back door, with Secret Service agents
before and after us, into a waiting
limo. I asked him
where Nancy was and he said, "She's home where she
belongs!" He pulled my legs up
over his lap as we
drove away and said, "You're in for a real treat
tonight."
It was late at
night when we pulled up in front of a big white hotel.
We went in quickly, after a
Secret Service
agent checked to make sure the lobby was clear. Reagan
and I went hand-in-hand to the
elevator up to the
second floor. We followed the agent down the hall
and waited as he stopped in front of
a room, while two
other agents guarded Reagan outside. There was a
balcony off the room, and we could
hear the surf. It
wasn't the plushest of rooms, but it was nice.
Reagan took off the
white summer coat I'd been given to wear and sat
next to me on the bed. He
started talking to
me as he undid the back of my dress. He undressed me
this time, revealing the sheer
white lacy bra,
panties and white nylons I had been given to wear.
Reagan was
aggressive this night. This was not typical behavior for
him, as he was usually so
passive. He pushed
me back onto the bed and kissed me eagerly while I
began undressing him, one
button at a time.
He was in a hurry and very passionate. I was
surprised at how different he was. He
nibbled my ear,
rubbed my navel to access touch programming, and I
performed oral sex. While he lay
on his back, I
climbed on top of him to bring him to orgasm. Soon I lay
down next to him, and we dozed
off to sleep.
A few hours later,
a Secret Service agent woke me up and put his finger
to his lips to keep me quiet
so I wouldn't wake
up the President. The agent grabbed my clothes and
shoes and took me to another
room to dress. They
put me into a dark sedan and took me back to my
hotel, the El Presidente.
The next morning I
woke up next to my husband in our hotel room, as if
from a nap, feeling really
strange, very
tired, and out of it, but with no trace of memory of my
time with Reagan. That evening my
husband and I went
to dinner with our friends and I was unable to think
or do much more than eat my
dinner and smile
occasionally at someone as they spoke at the table. I
did manage to stay awake through
dinner but couldn't
wait to go to sleep. The next morning I woke
exhausted and feeling ill, but didn't
know why. Waking
weary and worn out was such a common occurrence for me
and I had no way of
knowing why I was
really tired. I just figured that being tired, dazed,
and feeling ungrounded was the
249
way I was born. I
never was able to think past that thought in order to
penetrate the amnestic barrier,
until much later.
Catalina Island
I was used on
Catalina Island, for sexual rendezvous with Reagan and
sometimes other public
officials or
entertainers. If Nancy didn't accompany Reagan to
Catalina, it usually meant my use with
him was for sex.
She accompanied him at times when business affairs
were at hand and other people
were present for
meetings. If Ronnie would touch me on the hand or look
at me, she would get upset.
Quietly and off to
the side, he would tell me not to worry my pretty
little head about her. I was
programmed to have
sex with Reagan at the Wrigley Mansion, the Zane
Grey and other hotels on the
island. It seems
Reagan was usually on the island anonymously; for
security purposes, no one was to
know he was there.
There were usually
two Secret Service agents who escorted me to my
assignment. We often walked
to our destination
on the island when it was only a short distance.
They directed me where to go and
stayed behind me so
that it would not appear that they were with me. An
agent delivered me to the hotel
room to wait for
Reagan. Reagan preferred for me to wait for him naked,
but he told me each time how
he wanted me to be
the next time and I did as instructed.
The agents who
delivered me were always waiting right outside with the
other agents when it was
time to go. Then,
they delivered me back to my hotel room.
When I looked at
Reagan's body when he was naked he had a white flabby
stomach and buttocks,
not fat, just
flabby and old looking. When I was scheduled to be with
him, I was preinstructed to put on
five strategically
located sprays of Oscar de la Renta perfume - one
spray on each side of my neck, one on
each wrist and one
in between my legs. He was very sensory oriented and
my body had to be super clean.
He often told me he
liked how I smelled.
Reagan literally
lay on his back the whole time we were having sex and
had me do him. It was
always one-on-one
with him, usually quiet and sedate. No violence, no
intensity. He liked for me to rub
his back and then
help him on with his pajamas. At this point in the
evening, I often felt like I was
pampering and
putting a child to bed, despite the fact that he was 40
years older than I was! He made
sure everything was
comfy and in place. It was fairly routine, never
much variation.
One night at the
Wrigley Mansion, Reagan wanted me to pretend like I
was forcing him to have
sex with me. After
the game, he put the stun gun to the small of my
back. I never knew when it was
coming with him
because he would smile and all of a sudden I'd get
zapped. Then I passed out, just sort
of fainted over on
him and he would catch me and direct my body over
next to him, and then he would
turn away and go to
sleep, but his body was still touching me.
Sometimes the stun
gun was placed at the base of my skull. Different
places for different reasons. In the
forehead it was
meant to erase the mind file just used.
Chronic Pain
Over the years, I
suffered from chronic pelvic pain and sharp stabbing
pains that shot up through
my vagina and
rectum. I went to the doctor in an attempt to alleviate
the cause, but by 1984 it was
decided that a
total hysterectomy was the only cure for my pain. I was
33 years old. After the surgery, the
pain did lessen,
but wasn't completely gone. At that time I was still
unaware that I had been abused but
when I began to
have flashbacks and memories of the extreme sexual
abuse that I had endured my whole
250
life, the pain
lessened. Once my hidden past was brought to conscious
awareness, I healed and the
pain went away for
good.
Secretive Meetings
with the Owl
I had to maneuver
through lots of fairy tale programming like the
following in order to gain access
into memory of
experiences when I was used as a mind file for Henry
Kissinger at secret meetings. There
was a fairy tale
about a beautiful redwood forest, but it wasn't real,
it was only fantasy. It had beautiful
giant trees with
red bark and it was in the mountains. There was a
beautiful fairy princess who visited
there and she was
allowed to because she had special connections to the
forest animals. She made
friends with the
great owl who watched over her and kept her safe. He
alerted her if there were any
problems because he
was so big and so wise. He looked big to her
because she had taken the magic
mushrooms just like
Alice in the Looking Glass and she couldn't tell if
he was really big or she was just
very tiny, but he
could watch out for her.
This fairy tale was
intended to cover and scramble the real memory of a
men's camp of sorts in the
California
redwoods. There was a wooden box mounted on a tree with a
special phone inside that the
group of men who
met there could call from. Henry needed me there to
assist him with data. After the
meetings during the
day he would layer in the fairy tales at night in
an attempt to scramble my memory.
Kissinger also met
with George Bush at a place outdoors in the
mountains that was like a men's
camp. There was a
large wooden building that they used for meetings.
They slept in smaller sleeping
cabins. I slept in
a separate screened-in cabin and Henry put me into a
mode to stay there and not leave
until he came to
get me. Henry met with George Bush when he was Vice
President, more than he did
with Reagan, who
was President. This was because Henry and George had
more in common on this
particular endeavor
and worked hand-in-hand on the project.
Then Vice-President
Bush, Kissinger, and a White House correspondent
met to decide what the
White House
Correspondent was going to put out through the media to the
public to insure success of
their plans. Henry
always had his strategies and accomplished a lot
behind the scenes by working
through and
directing other politicians or people connected to the
White House.
At another meeting,
Henry and George accessed my geographic locations
file and gained access to
information about
certain foreign countries. They would pick perfect
strategic locations to start wars
and/or disputes
they wanted in order to distract the American people
and others about what they were
really doing in an
area. I would rattle off information about an area,
describing it's climate, terrain, ocean
access, mountain
access, etc., and I would keep going on with
information until they heard a location
that would work for
their plans. Then they would say STOP and I would
stop. Meetings took place there
often.
Kissinger Mind File
Use During Bush's Vice Presidency and Presidency
During Reagan's
administration, Henry Kissinger and George Bush used me
often in a mind file
capacity. When Bush
became President, my job didn't change - only the
person holding the office of
President did. One
day Henry and I were at the White House and he shook
hands with Vice-President
George Bush. I was
there for mind file use. They were talking about the
IranContra situation and Henry
was telling George
what to say publicly to cover their tracks. He had a
lengthy conversation with Bush,
telling him "key
phrases" to say when asked certain questions so they
could keep their stories straight.
George didn't like
Henry smoking his cigar inside, but Henry smoked
anyway. I guess Bush
needed Henry's help
so bad that he didn't press the cigar issue any
further. Henry filled my mind files
with information to
bring back to the Governor of California, who I
believe at the time was Governor
251
Deukmajian. We sat
in wooden chairs with leather seats in front of
Bush's desk. The floor in the room
was wooden, with a
large throw rug over it. There was an American flag
to our left - to Bush's right. Bush
took his glasses on
and off when he got upset or nervous.
Dinners held to
entertain important foreign leaders or politicians from
our own country often
involved Henry
Kissinger. He was not one to be social, but attended
these dinners out of duty. If I was to
target an
individual in attendance, I often went with Henry. I was
"strategically" seated next to him as
well as the person
they were trying to monitor or influence. Henry
always briefed me beforehand in
regard to things
that were important to a foreign leader or a certain
Senator or Congressmen. I would say
sentences that had
been implanted in my head to draw them out and get
them talking. Sometimes I was
given little white
pills to drop in their wineglasses to "help them
loosen up a little," is what Henry would
say.
At these dinners,
the President would clink his glass with a fork or
spoon and propose a toast to
the honored guest.
All the presidents did it. Tapping of the wineglass
was a means to call me to attention;
most often it was a
time when a very specific code was introduced to
set me up for what I was to do the
rest of the
evening. After they clinked the glass, I subconsciously
received the directions carefully
embedded in the
toast. Although Henry was the mastermind and loaded me
up with information for
targeted people for
the evening, the Presidents were always told that I
was at their service for the evening
when I was included
at a dining arrangement. Henry really had his own
agenda that I fulfilled within the
evening, mingling
with those persons he predirected me to. But he took
the courtesy of letting the
Presidents feel
they were in charge of me, so my instructions were to
listen with an ear to hear the coded
instructions and
file them in with the instructions Henry had given me
for the evening. Although I didn't
understand
consciously what to do, the coded parts inside of me knew
exactly what to do and what area
within the
personality structure would carry out the duty. The
Presidents I worked with knew exactly
who I was, and knew
that as a robot, I needed direction while I was
sitting at the dining table with the
guests. They gave
me direction in relation to foreign leaders and which
to target and what information to
go after. If there
were two foreign dignitaries then I would be told
what to do with each of them. Bush
utilized me often
like this to hunt out information or find where
loyalties lay.
Some of the guests
at different times were royalty from England,
foreign ambassadors, and other
leaders from around
the world. They often had interpreters with them at
dinner so they could
communicate. Henry
put key phrases in my mind files, created especially
for them because my
knowledge of
foreign languages was limited, but later, sex usually
bridged the language barrier.
I was told what to
say when questioned. Sometimes I said I was working
for the State Department.
Some of the men
must have been given prior permission to have me
sexually because they would touch
my leg under the
table or slip their hand up my dress. These men
thought they were being given a gift,
but they were
really being interrogated or seeded by a programmed
operative who had been well trained
to do just that
sort of job interwoven with sex. Sometimes it was just
quick sex in a back office and then
they would go home
with their wife, or sometimes me. When I was to
spend the night with a guest, we
were often limoed
to a nearby hotel for the evening. This happened when
the men in control wanted
some serious
information. At other times, my instructions were merely
to sit next to a targeted guest,
deliver
preprogrammed messages and record in my mind files their
responses, reactions, etc.
Once a Machine,
Always a Machine!
At times, Bob met
and played golf with George Bush. "Once a machine
always a machine," Bob
said about me to
Bush on the golf course in Palm Springs. Bush told Bob
he acted like an old married
couple with me. Bob
laughed and said, "There's nothing old about her!"
Bush didn't think it was so funny
and just went on to
the next hole in silence, followed by Secret
Service agents.
252
George Bush knew
all about my use as a human computer. He treated me
very unkindly, like I
wasn't human. One
day, Henry and George got into a fierce argument over
how George treated me.
Henry said, "Would
you go over to an expensive computer and kick it if
it malfunctioned?" This was
during Bush's
Vice-Presidency when George accessed my files often and
participated back and forth with
Greenspan and
Kissinger during that time. Henry said, "George if you're
going to use the equipment
you're going to
have to learn to use it properly."
George said to
Henry, "Hank, this young woman is nothing but a piece of
equipment and if she
continues to
malfunction on me, I'll have to put a stop to her use." I
sat blankly while they continued
their argument.
The Game of Life or
is it Slow Death?
George Bush was
always mean, gruff and degrading. Overtime, he
continually gave me brutal
'attitude
adjustments.' He knew just how to twist the knife
psychologically and could get me 'back in line'
quicker than anyone
else, due to the fact that he had abused my
daughter and could devastate me by
reminding me of the
brutal things he did to her. Or he would say, "I
can read you like a book and don't
ever forget it. If
you ever get a notion in your head like this again
your daughter will be motherless. Don't
cross me again." He
was always yelling at me. He also started this
program about 'life.' I had eaten LIFE
cereal my whole
life as part of a program, and he said to eat it and
remember while I was eating it that,
"only by going
along with the program will you stay alive and continue
your duties to your family and
country." In
programmed response, I ate LIFE cereal all the time, even
carrying little snack bags of it
around with me if I
felt scared or threatened. Bush also had my
children play the game of LIFE with me
and reminded us,
"Spin the dial and see what life has to offer." George
would remind us to remember
whenever we played,
"if you get off track, you will loose not only your
own life, but the precious lives of
those traveling
with you, your children." (Or, in my children's case,
"your mother or father.")
Henry was so busy
perfecting and guarding his technology within me
that, at the time, I
experienced him as
protecting me, since he personally wasn't violent
with me. But I know now that he
was very much a
part of the group of people that hurt me and, in fact,
had to have orchestrated a lot of
my high-level
abuse. At times Henry acted like a mad scientist, so
pleased with his creation, yet lost to
humanity.
Mexico
Lots of drug
transactions took place in the middle of crowds, such as
in parades. I was involved in
a big one in
Mazatlan on Cinco de Mayo. We had just eaten dinner with
Craig's family, aunt, uncle and
cousin at the
Shrimp Bucket restaurant. They had a lot of alcohol to
drink and Craig's aunt took me into
the restroom and
passed some drugs off to me and told me to put the bag
inside my dress. I was wearing
a peach colored
cotton sundress and I did what she said but didn't like
to put the package in my panties
like she told me to
because it made me look pregnant or fat. Soon, we
all left the restaurant and stepped
out into the street
where a festive Cinco de Mayo parade was in full
swing. As we entered the huge crowd
of people dancing
and marching in the street, we moved along helplessly
sandwiched in between the
crowd. Craig kept
laughing hysterically and smashed confetti eggs in my
hair. I was terrified because
nothing felt real,
and the loud noises and all the people jammed close
together frightened me. A man
with dark skin,
wearing white cotton pants, shirt and straw hat grabbed
my arm and pulled me away
from the crowd,
down a dark side street. He pulled me through what at
first looked like a doorway into
an old abandoned
building but as we made our way to the back, I was
escorted into a room that was
restored and
decorated. A group of men were sitting around a table with
a low hanging lamp, smoking
and playing cards.
"Here she is," my guide announced.
253
Another
dark-skinned man came over to me. I think they called him
Johnny T. He patted my
stomach and said,
"What do we have here? A gold mine?" He pulled up my
dress and removed the
package. In front
of all the other men, he set his cigar down, pulled
off his belt, unzipped his pants, let
them fall to the
floor, stepped out of them and said to his comrades,
"This is what I've waited all night
for." And he pulled
me to the ground and raped me in front of the
group. When he was through with me
he opened the
package I had delivered and said, "Tell the United States
government, we thank them for
their gifts, for
their generosity, and tell them we like the way they
do business," everyone laughed as he
continued, "and
that we will continue to hold up our end of the
bargain." Another man took me out to a
waiting car and I
was delivered back to Craig's uncle.
George Bush was
often a part of the illegal drug activity in Mexico. It
felt as if he followed me and
my family around on
our vacations; no matter where we went, he and "the
boys," showed up. I realize
now our vacation
spots really revolved around our controller's agenda
but in those days I had no way of
knowing that. It
seemed like Reagan was just a puppet and Bush made all
the arrangements, did the
thinking, planning
and carrying out of the deals. At meetings and
social gatherings, Bush made the
connections and cut
the deal while Reagan just acted oblivious - which
is not to say he didn't know or
wasn't aware, he
just wasn't ever the mastermind. Bush was ruthless and
brutal; the end justified the
means. He even had
a red handkerchief he kept in his pocket for wiping
blood off of Kelly or me. He had
high expectations
and often expected us to do things that he had
inadvertently forgotten to tell us, at
which point Kelly
or I got slapped, beaten, or dealt with in other
torturous ways. There was a time on
Maui when a Secret
Service agent came to my aid saying to Bush, "Sir, I
don't think you told her that."
That was the end of
his job; Bush fired him on the spot. One day Bush
took a pocketknife out of his pants
pocket and I was
terrified that he would use it on me, but instead he
used it to cut the skin off a green
apple. He told me
I'd be next to have my skin cut off in the same slow,
torturous manner if I didn't
cooperate.
I saw the Mexican
leaders more frequently at the White House than in
Mexico; they were usually brutal
and violent.
Craig's Uncle Lyle
Curran, who worked for NASA, specially arranged for
us to purchase a
timeshare; the
Presidential Suite, at the El Cid Hotel, in Mazatlan. My
husband purchased the use of this
suite, for the same
week in April, every year for the next 25 years. My
family and I always thought we
were going there
for a vacation. But that was never what occurred. On
one such vacation, a man in a suit
met Kelly and I
just after we had bought our 'strawberry banana
smoothies' at the hotel shake stand.
Later I discovered
that these drinks, although very healthy, were
programming cues that were installed
at an earlier time
when we were taken to the Santa Monica Pier and put
on the Carousel Ride. A man put
both of us on the
horses and told us, "tied together, you are one."
There was other mirror programming
and suggestions
that created confusion over where I started or ended
physically, and Kelly began or
ended. There were
to be no separate identities.
Anyway, we had on
our bikinis and this suited man followed us over the
bridged overpass that led
to the Presidential
Suite. As we went into the room he slipped in
behind us. He told us to sit down on the
bed. He put
earphones on both of us, and injected our forearms. Kelly
sat with one leg folded under her,
in half Indian
style position. We were body programmed and different
body positions meant different
things. George Bush
arrived, dressed in a tan suit, and Kelly was
"prepared" for him. Bush, a couple of
Mexican leaders,
and one other man had a meeting in our suite. I sat
next to Bush at the meeting while
he accessed my mind
files. When the meeting was over George waited
until everyone left the room,
shook their hands
politely at the door and when they were gone he went
into the bedroom where Kelly
was waiting. I sat
robotically at the table.
254
Awhile later, when
Kelly came out of the room, she had a smile on her
face. Per programmed
conditioning, she
always wore a smile but she didn't look good to me.
Bush left with two Secret Service
agents that were
parked outside the door to the suite. One of them
called him, "Geo."
Another time Henry
Kissinger was sitting with George Bush at a meeting
that took place at the
large dining table
in our Presidential Suite at El Cid with two Mexican
men. I was there to be used in
mind file capacity.
There were other such meetings that took place at
our family timeshare, at El Cid, in
the "Presidential
Suite."
"Honesty is the
first chapter of the book of wisdom." -- Thomas
Jefferson
255
Brice Taylor -
Thanks for the Memories
Chapter
Twenty-nine: Back to the Future
More High Tech
Classified Projects
In 1985, after a
head-on collision and the ensuing healing process
necessitated by the auto
accident, my
direction and course were irrevocably altered. I left my
position in my husband's dental
practice, returned
to college and attended Pepperdine University in
Malibu to begin classes to fulfill the
requirements for a
degree in Psychology. But as always, in addition to
the coursework leading to my
degree was an
alternate, hidden agenda, planned and orchestrated by my
controllers. Along with
attending classes
at Pepperdine, I was used in the Malibu area for
experiments that furthered
parapsychology
research, as well.
At Pepperdine there
were experiments and research on the nature of
higher consciousness, how
the brain
intercepts thought, why some brains process higher thought
and others don't, how pure diet
and water effects
the brain, the effects of meditation on the brain,
remote viewing and out-of-body
experiments. I was
programmed to meet with a group in a small room at
the University where we
watched movies. My
attendance was carefully tied to my use in the
projects and with Ronald Reagan.
There were others
in the room robotically watching the movies. They
treated us like monkeys.
Telepathic
Experiments
Among other things
at Pepperdine, tests were done on studying and
learning in altered states of
consciousness. I
began reading endless books on psychic phenomena and
began being psychically
trained and further
experimented on. Each day at lunch I reported to
the large cross that graces the
hillside at the
University, in order to sit in the small area inside
and go into a meditative state. I did this
each and every day
and felt as if I was communicating with the whales
and dolphins in the vast ocean
that spanned the
panoramic view from that location.
Part of the
experiments focused on telepathic communication and my
controllers were sending
messages to me via
satellite systems to see if I could pick them up.
They tasked me with these
assignments that
had to be performed in the ocean or near the ocean so
it would be easier to pick up the
telepathic messages
sent over the airwaves that they were broadcasting
to me. There were times I
consciously thought
I was just going to go for a drive, to have the day
to myself, when in reality I was
instructed and
directed to different locations. One day I drove into a
remote canyon high in the hills
above Malibu. I
positioned myself on top of a mountain in my beach
chair and sat all by myself and read
a book on Edgar
Cayce. When I looked to the sprawling mountaintops, my
eyes focused on all sorts of
satellite dishes
and instrumentation on the hill in front of me. After
spending a few hours there I
returned to my home
in Agoura Hills. Later that day, the phone rang. I
picked it up and a man asked me
questions before
saying, "We see you picked up the message about where
to go today and followed our
instructions
impeccably. Good work and be waiting for the next set of
instructions." Click, he hung up.
Robotically I hung
up the phone and went on like nothing had happened.
Immediately this slice of reality
submerged itself
deep within the programmed recesses of my mind, and
was kept there until a later time
when I was
reaccessed.
There were many
places I was telepathically directed to in response to
messages sent to me by my
controllers. Often
I was led to believe that incarnate guides and
masters were leading me when I was
really being led by
the men who were instilling these thoughts in order
to direct me to various places
where they wanted
me.
Further Adventures
Along the California Coast
256
The American
government seemed to be willing to sell anything,
including children, to foreign
countries in order
to gain monies to fund the mind control and other
research projects. Reagan
presented it saying
that it was the only way we would survive - that we
would all be killed by nuclear
destruction at the
hands of these "foreign morons" unless we were able
to have more control, and the
mind control
projects insured American safety. He made it sound like
something the United States had
to have to stay a
safe and free nation. But the Council knows the
bigger picture lies beyond what Reagan
thought was
"national security." It was really an international
takeover by a group of megalomaniacs
who have decided to
insure the future for their own genetically
advanced progeny. From my perspective,
it had nothing to
do with American freedom or safety. But Reagan was a
pawn and didn't have all the
information or know
about the Council's higher agenda. If he had, he
would have known the United
States was being
duped.
Reagan sent for me
and I was picked up, once again at noontime, while I
was 'meditating' under
the cross at
Pepperdine, in order to be taken for demonstration to men
from all over. They were usually
small groups
because Henry or the Council was working that angle, too,
putting together different
foreign scientists
or foreign leaders who would naturally be
competitive so they could get the most out of
them. Often Reagan,
or a military officer, would explain the project to
them as a group and they would
toy with their
national pride and play off their natural
competitiveness and ego. Then after the meeting,
one of our people
would take them aside, into a separate room and tell
them we were interested but that
such and such a
country (Saudi Arabia for example) had more to offer.
They worked them like that to get
more cooperation in
hopes that maybe the leader or scientist would
offer more favors, resources,
connections, etc.,
so we would get even more out of the deal. Henry
really knew how to work people, and
he knew how to be
very convincing. He told Reagan and others that it
was all for national security,
American safety,
and these men all believed it, they all thought Henry
was so smart and so pro-
American, but he
never really was. He just talked that way to get
people to do what he and the Council
wanted. "Reagan
isn't a robot, but he might as well be," Kissinger
said. I'm not so sure.
During the 80's I
was keyed to a computer in my bedroom, where I began
to get instructions at
home from the
Council. I didn't think I was very good at computers
since I'd taken a computer class and
felt I really
couldn't learn the technology. But while the "I," the
conscious part of my personality, was
unaware of my
computer proficiency, other parts were completely in
tune! Upon awakening, before I
brushed my teeth, I
was instructed to report to my computer. It
displayed a symbol if I had instructions
and was to continue
for further instructions. They made it simple for
me to access. There were codes for
'regulars,' people
I met with weekly, like some of the movie stars in
Malibu and Beverly Hills. I was given
schedules and lists
of people to meet, or to be expecting to meet, and
dates to be at certain places at
certain times, so I
would know to have my hair done, nails polished,
what time, location, etc. I didn't any
longer have to
report to the room at the Holiday Inn; I could get my
instructions from home. After the
mid 80's, my
controllers began accessing me more directly without Craig
being so much in charge. They
took more direct
control.
Often my
instructions were to wait in meditation beneath the cross at
the University. I was used
heavily during this
time, and spent less and less time with my family.
Men in suits or men that looked
and dressed like
they were gardeners at Pepperdine would come up to me
and give me messages while I
was in a meditative
state. Later, men in suits would pick me up,
tapping me in code on my shoulder two
or three times,
after which I would get up and go with them. This
particular time, the men drove me to
weapons warehouses
where I delivered detailed messages to arms dealers
and recorded their responses
to take back. Lots
of foreign countries' arms 'deals' took place in
warehouses, at least the original
dealings. After
that I would take the message back and deliver it that
night wherever I was directed. Then
I would return home
in the evening to my family, having thought I had
'studied' in the university library
the whole day. Fat
chance!
257
Mind Control
Adventures
An Iran-Contra arms
trade took place in a warehouse in Santa Monica.
Nothing was ever to have
been traced back to
Reagan because it was to have been a covert
operation to raise funds for other
projects, "research
projects." They felt justified in selling arms to
anyone, including our enemies, because
they felt that the
days of armed conflict were over. Instead we could
now win wars using our high tech
psychological,
chemical and electronic warfare, if we ever needed to,
and be able to use mind control
technologies to
insure the enemy laid down their weapons. But in the
meantime, we could sell them
comparatively
obsolete weapons and make money for furthering the
research in mind control.
Lots of drug and
arms deals took place in warehouses in California,
especially in and near Santa
Monica and Malibu.
A lot of foreign connections were made in order to
increase the funds for the
continuation of the
research projects. And they used the
mind-controlled robots they had created to earn
money for them.
Many, many people are under mind control and have been
working for them for years -
men and women who
are dentists, attorneys, stockbrokers, doctors,
psychiatrists, psychologists,
politicians,
bankers, corporate heads, engineers, newspaper editors or
owners, nurses, teachers,
principals, etc.
etc. etc. And all these programmed people are used to
further "the cause," each placed in
strategic positions
for use by the Council.
The technology
available is so advanced that most people couldn't even
dream of it. It far
surpasses anything
yet seen on sci-fi movies or read about in books --
total automation, even of people.
They put mind
control operatives into jobs that included travel and
then used them
internationally to
further their cause. They felt there was no way that
they couldn't succeed since so
many are now under
their complete control and are able to be controlled
by universal signals, enabling
them to put certain
words, phrases, or symbols into the current media
(movies, television, newpapers,
music, etc.) and
the mind-controlled robots are programmed to step up
their pace. Certain words have
been paired through
programming to different tasks these robots are
assigned to do. So all they have to
do is to hear the
word combinations, tones, frequency, etc., and they
can all be commanded within a very
short time to carry
out their programmed instructions.
Fun in the Sun?
At other times I
would report to Zuma Beach and think I spent the day
relaxing in the sun by
myself. In
actuality I climbed out of my beach chair and walked out
into the surf, swam into the waves,
sometimes for long
distances, easily and effortlessly, as my
programming commanded, to meet a boat
just outside the
wave break. A man in the boat who helped me on board,
dripping wet, handed me a
towel and once
said, "My, but you must be an important person." I
couldn't comprehend or respond
because I was in
total program and this event 'wasn't really happening.'
He drove me to
Point Mugu and apologized when due to large surf
conditions he couldn't get in closer
when we neared the
rear entrance. I told him not to worry that I was
used to swimming long distances
and was adept at
swimming waves. I told him I'd just use the waves to
get me in easily. I had a program
that rendered my
body incapable of feeling the temperature of the
water, so I could enter very cold water
and not get cold.
So I dove off the boat in my bikini and swam to
shore. There were some pens and an
underwater screen
that I knew to swim around to get to the shore. I
walked onto the beach area, to the
cement and the
chain link fence, then waited until a man in a white
naval uniform let me in and escorted
me to an outside
shower they used when they swam. He took me inside to
a bathroom, where I found a
naval uniform,
white blouse with navy blue and gold trim, and a white
skirt and navy blue heels neatly
piled up for me to
wear. My hair was trimmed every 4 weeks so that I
could just run my fingers through
it and it would
look okay, since it was naturally curly. The same
officer took me through an area where
they used a metal
scanner on me for security purposes and I had to pass
through a light monitor and did
258
so with flying
colors. Then I was escorted in to see whomever I was to
report to - an officer,
Commander, Reagan
or sometimes Bush. But this time I was there to meet
Reagan and to be
demonstrated to a
group of foreign scientists they wanted to recruit
for research.
I was put into a
clear cylindrical capsule, maybe for show, and then
Reagan showed these men
how I reacted upon
command. He demonstrated the use of my mind files by
quickly asking me for
detailed
information and descriptions of schematics. I performed up to
speed, dictating to them the
elaborate 3-D
holographic craft images that I was viewing in my head.
All the men clapped. In the
beginning they had
to condition me to the clapping because it flipped
me out and switched me, and then
I would be
surprised to find myself where I was. Usually after the
demonstrations were finished, Reagan
would limo me out
with him and we went for a quick sexual encounter
somewhere, locally. Later, they
put me into another
car and dropped me back at the beach, where I
changed once again into my bikini.
Lying on my beach
chair, enjoying the California sun, I obeyed my
program that commanded, "Slowly
come out of the
meditative state."
Later when I
returned home I would stand in front of my computer and
hit the buttons I was
programmed to
select in order to type in a message or answer from
Reagan or whomever I had been
with, so Henry
would get the message. I don't know how it worked but
there would often be an instant
reply typed back on
the screen, coupled with a command to "erase the
day, that it was a relaxing day in
the sun and surf."
Working Girl
There were times I
was taken by the life guard boat to Point Mugu and
escorted to a Captain's
quarters to be
used. They gave me other clothes to wear and then
helicoptered me to Reagan's Ranch,
usually for
meetings with foreign leaders. And when Henry wasn't there
(he often wasn't), I was there
standing in for
him, but the attendees thought I was a secretary to
Reagan. Reagan relied on information
I had in my mind
files, put there for his access by Kissinger.
Kissinger ran large portions of the foreign
diplomacy of the
United States Government by sending me to these
meetings.
Over the years when
people like Rebozo, Sinatra and Bush wanted to take
me out (kill me), Henry
would stop it
because he and the Council had worked years, even
decades, to set up the connections I had
with people. Henry
had key robots in key situations so that everyone
was working in perfect three-part
harmony. I had been
put close to U.S. government leaders, British
royalty, Margaret Thatcher, and
leaders of other
countries, and these relationships were "seasoned with
time," Henry would say, and so
he wanted to keep
me in as long as possible. Henry said these
relationships were priceless because these
contacts knew and
trusted me over time, with no ill effects, so in the
future they would share information
with me about more
important things without worry.
Henry had me tested
often, especially after the accident and when I
began psychotherapy full
time. I was
breaking down but they were building me back up in other
directions without my missing a
beat in my
assignments. My personalities who were close to foreign
leaders had not had the accident and
were cut off from
that experience. Instead they enjoyed total health
and well being in order to continue
their work.
Different personalities had been created for different
leaders so Henry could easily instill new
information or
messages, yet retain the personality as it had been
created especially for the individual
leaders.
I was flown by
helicopters that took off from naval ships out at sea,
into foreign countries to be the
connection maker
for munitions or drug transactions with various
countries - Columbia, Bolivia, Mexico,
Jamaica - I can't
remember them all. But I was dressed in a military
uniform and flown in helicopters
down into these
places to deliver messages, usually to a man in uniform
who was heavily guarded. But
here again, they
didn't have a clue that our country possessed weaponry
that looked like anything but
259
weapons - that
couldn't even be seen: invisible weapons that could drop
people to their knees and
render them
incapable of functioning. No need to kill them, just send
targeted energy and control their
brain wave activity.
I remembered a time
when the pilot called to a foreign bank to see if
the money was in the account
before he would
release the sale of weapons. Money was made not only on
the sale of the weapons, but
even more on the
financial arrangements made that created huge revenues
from the interest on the loans
to desperate
countries, willing to pay whatever it took to save the
lives of their people. So they paid top
dollar for the
weapons and paid interest on the loans in addition. All
this was planned, down to the
instigation of wars
that would create an international weapons market.
It also kept nations busy buying
obsolete weapons
America said were the best. We kept them looking the
other way as we were secretly
using the copious
profits from the sales to fund more mind control
research, so the plan for the world
takeover could be
implemented. All this was done by very smart and
manipulative people who used very
strategic planning.
Saudi Arabia and other foreign countries
inadvertently funded a lot of NASA research
and, when there
were arms embargoes or other embargoes, all it meant
was the price was forced up and
the United States
made even more money.
Point Mugu
Demonstrations
After
demonstrations at the circular arena in Point Mugu, Reagan left
in a limo with Secret
Service agents
flanking him heavily because of the assassination
attempt. I was escorted out and after the
agents put Reagan
into the back of the limo, one of the agents took the
passenger spot in the front seat
opposite the driver
and gave him instructions on where to go. Then,
after some of the agents left to
report to their
next duty, a remaining agent opened the back door and
put me in next to Reagan and we
were off. The glass
was put up between the front and back seats before
I got in.
Reagan became very
good at saying things to me in order that I might
feel like he was being polite,
when he was really
getting around the fact that I wasn't allowed to
eat. One day we were taken to a fish
restaurant in
Malibu on a Monday, when the restaurant was normally
closed, but they opened it for the
opportunity of
serving the President. Reagan went in first with a
phalanx of Secret Service agents
flanking him on all
sides. You couldn't even see him in the group and
after he was seated in a secluded
booth in the back I
was brought in and they told the waiter I was his
visiting niece. With a towel on his
arm, the waiter
asked Reagan, "And what will the young lady be eating
this afternoon?"
Reagan looked at me
and I said, "Thanks, but I've already eaten."
Then he made some
joke about it as he began eating his fish, carrots,
rice and salad. I sat and
smiled at him while
he ate, and listened intently. When he was
finished, the Secret Service took care of
the bill and he was
escorted back out to the limo in the same way he
went into the restaurant - then they
put me back beside
him. Our next destination was a grouping of small
rustic cottages along Pacific Coast
Highway. The driver
drove around back and the Secret Service agents
went to the room first, opened it,
checked it out, and
then came back to the car. opened my door, escorted
me in, shut the door and I
waited, parked in
robotic mode, while they Reagan in.
After the agents
left the room, Reagan commented that he liked the
place, that it reminded him of
the Ranch. He took
my right hand and asked, "Should we do our dance?"
"You bet," I
answered. So he twirled me around several times, for
programming purposes and
then laid me on the
bed. I was wearing a white pantsuit with fancy
tassels on the front and short white
boots. He had given
me a Reagan watch to wear for the day, but later
the agents took it away. Reagan
loved the watch. He
unbuttoned my shirt as he lay on the bed next to me
and went directly for my belly
button and began
tracing his fingers around my navel. Waiting for my
programming to kick in, he laid on
his back for me to
satisfy him. Afterwards, he took a short nap and
then sent me out to notify the agent
260
who was waiting in
the limo. The agent snapped to attention and
directed the driver to get into
position, and they
escorted Reagan back to the limo.
We took off down
Pacific Coast Highway again and they stopped to drop
me off at a gas station in
Malibu, where I met
a man in an unmarked car who drove me back to the
cross at Pepperdine. When he
let me out he said,
"Weren't you meditating?" In response, I
robotically walked under the cross and sat
there again. He
yelled, "Not too long!" and drove off. I stood up,
totally unaware I had been with anyone,
thinking I had only
been in deep meditation for a long time. I found my
car and drove through the
canyon home where,
with the help of our maid, I prepared dinner. I was
pretty out of it.
I was used with
Reagan hundreds of times if not more, ever since I was
a teenager. He knew that I
had to have time in
between when he used my mind files for
demonstration or information and sex. So
having a leisurely
lunch provided the time necessary. A cue or signal
had to be given to shut down the
mind files and
then, from that time on, a certain amount of time had to
elapse before sex. Once he was
President, the
Pepperdine cross served as a pick-up point where I was
taken to cabins, cottages, or out of
the way homes to be
with him sexually after the Council had input me
with information for him via my
home computer. Many
messages were phoned to me by Bob, or more often
Henry, when they were of a
political nature,
because political details were more complicated and
took more time than the simple
well-grooved
routines of sexually satisfying stars or political friends
of Bob's.
In the early 80's I
also rendezvoused with Reagan for sex on nights I
drove off by myself in the
car, telling my
husband I needed to learn to become more independent. I
got in my car and played the
'metaphysical game'
I learned from books I was suggested to read. For
example, I just drove
spontaneously and
magically stopped when it 'felt right.' One evening,
it just 'tell right' to stop at a very
expensive hotel in
Santa Barbara and I checked into a room and waited
for Ronnie. Naturally, before he
got there two men
in suits, carrying briefcases full of programming
equipment, let themselves into my
hotel room and
tortured me in preparation for the President.
Another time it
just 'felt right' to stop at a large hotel near the
pier in Santa Monica, where again, I met
with Reagan.
Point Mugu Naval
Weapons Station and Dolphins
I remembered being
on a gurney at Point Mugu, with a white sheet over
my body, a white
electrode cap over
my head and an IV in my arm. I was hooked up to
electrodes all over my scalp and on
my wrists and they
were having me listen to whale and dolphin sounds
via headsets. Huge banks of
audio equipment and
big tapes on recorders were all running. They often
played music or sounds in one
ear and tones or
word instructions in the other. Sometimes the sound
was excruciatingly loud in one ear
and nearly
inaudible in the other. The words were barely audible but I
often tried really hard to listen to
what was being
played in my ear, though it was impossible to hear. The
loudness hurt my ear and the two
extremes coupled
together nearly drove me crazy.
There were dolphins
in tanks at Point Mugu that were also used in
research. At times, they also
had electrodes on
their heads. I think they were attempting to measure
thoughts and telepathic
communication. At
one point they directed me to send a message to the
dolphin with my mind, and then
listen and decode
the language of the dolphin's reply. They tried it
with whale language also. The swim
programs that
allowed me to swim long distances without tiring, were
also coupled with the hypnotic
suggestion that I
was like a dolphin and could swim forever like one.
I think the dolphin
research was a secondary project, and among other
things was a project to
further U.S.
Intelligence technology in telepathy. The dolphin research
continued because we could
261
communicate long
distance with the dolphins, sending messages, and when
I received them, I was
given a number to
call immediately to report what I heard. They paired
this need to report with having to
go to the bathroom
and once in the bathroom I would dissociate, switch
personalities and phone in to
report, sort of
like "ET phone home."
Just a week before
my husband and I were getting ready to go on a
sailing trip to the Channel
Islands, I
remembered performing a visualization I was taught, where in
my mind, I pictured myself in
the middle of a
group of dolphin. I performed this whole process in an
attempt to actually link up with
the dolphin on our
trip. Before we left, I told Craig I was going to
have a dolphin experience! Low and
behold, way out in
the middle of the Pacific Ocean, a whole pod of
dolphin swarmed our boat. When I
saw them coming I
got so excited that I slipped on my diving mask, and
jumped off the boat into the
middle of them. No
one on board could believe my impulsive actions! It
seemed that time stood still and
I felt like I was
held in a state of suspended animation as one large
dolphin seemed to energetically link
up with me. Time
seemed to stand still and it was an amazing
experience! After that I began to "see light
in everything." I
still don't have an understanding for exactly what
happened, but I began having
incredibly
prophetic dreams and more psychic experiences. I believe
this also was part of an experiment.
There was extensive
"dolphin programming" done on me. Movies, stills
and motion pictures with
beautiful music
were shown, administered together with drugs they
injected into my arm in order to put
me in a state of
utter euphoria while I was viewing the dolphin
pictures. These movies and other positive
stimuli reinforced
good feelings that emerged in order to deter me from
the Star Wars information.
Dolphin programming
covered the Star Wars Project. Whales covered a
NASA project. This all-powerful
programming was
meant to keep me from accessing the information stored
neatly in my brain away
from my conscious
awareness.
There were movies I
felt drawn to all of a sudden leave my family at
night to attend. I went to
different new age
bookstores or other places where I was told to go to
see dolphin movies, some very
sophisticatedly
created with music. A couple who created and traveled
to share their dolphin movie, told
the small audience
to go into a meditative state and watch the film in
order to gain expanded
consciousness. The
movie contained different geometric shapes shown
along with the dolphins in
underground cities.
The dolphin theme was continued when I was living
on the island of Kauai.
President Reagan's
project, STAR WARS, was located in my mind files
under Dolphin
programming. I
accompanied Reagan lots of times to Point Mugu and other
military bases, but Point
Mugu was the
original site where I would download top secret
information from the mind files, first.
Then I was taken to
different bases all over, usually without Reagan,
to deliver the same information,
over and over and
over again; all over the world to the major players.
The Around the World In 80 Days
movie and song was
used to cover this activity. So I'd think of that
movie and believe I was remembering
that instead of my
actual assignment. Other movies were used in an
attempt to cover and intentionally
scramble my
experiences. As I retrieved memory of ways I was used, I
sorted through the 'movie
realities' to
discover what actually happened.
Star Wars was a
global network working together for global control.
This network continued as I
was transferred to
the island of Kauai where I reported often to
Barking Sands Missile Base.
Dolphin Programming
and Pornography
Another auxiliary
project, one that brought in proceeds, was dolphin
pornography. Dolphin porn
was filmed in
Malibu and in the dolphin tanks at Point Mugu. It was
convenient because they had cages
already built and
so the dolphins could be housed there for use almost
anytime. Reagan really loved the
dolphin stuff. He
watched a porn video of Kelly and I with a couple of
dolphins. During the viewing he
smiled, patted my
leg and said, "I'll be with you later." He wasn't
into sex with children and didn't have
262
sex with my
daughter. When the film was over he said, "Watching you do
underwater ballet is
beautiful, but
seeing you with the dolphin is out of this world!" He
laughed and looked up, like he was
seeing a missile or
shuttle launch. Lots of dolphin porn was filmed. I
believe Bob gave copies of it to
Prince Charles,
Prince Phillip and Margaret Thatcher, who is a lesbian.
Over the years my
daughter Kelly was often programmed next to me. We
would be instructed to
both touch our
noses at the same time and then a shock would be
delivered though the electrodes stuck
all over our
bodies. We both had IV's in our arms and despite the
trauma, we were giggling like we were
both drunk. She was
very young and they continued this over the years.
In addition to all the regular
programming, they
also programmed us to be a mother-daughter sex team.
There was lots of
programming laid in
that made us believe that we were twin souls, "two
peas in a pod." I was
programmed to
believe that half of me was in her and half of her was in
me. There was lots of identity
confusion. They
programmed us to be totally synchronous, so we could
flow together and work
harmoniously while
sexually servicing whomever they sent us to.
Our controllers'
used the movie ET as a "screen memory" to cover memory
of these actual
experiences by
telling Kelly and I that we were like ET and Elliot, and
if one of us got free the other
would die. The
message given was, "If you get deprogrammed or a
hospital frees you, you will get
separated from each
other for the rest of your lives. ET almost died
and had to go to another planet away
from Elliott. A
wilted Chrysanthemum flower plant will remind you, it
will wither and die if it's off the
vine, away from its
source."
At three months old
Kelly was able to float on her back with no
assistance, and further swimming
lessons early on
enabled her to be an excellent swimmer, natural in the
water. She also had
programming that
enhanced her natural swimming capabilities, enabling
her to swim long distances.
Kelly was good with
the dolphins. She was specially trained this way
from the time she was very small.
Years later, in
1993, as I became aware that my children and I had been
taken to Point Mugu for
programming, I
returned, trying to get a closer look in an attempt to
understand what these people were
doing. But it was
heavily guarded; now I know why. Interestingly
enough, last year on a plane flight, I
had the opportunity
to sit next to a man from California. I was
spiritually guided to share with him my
experience of
programming at Point Mugu Naval Base. When I got to the
part about the dolphin tanks
and banks of
recording equipment, his eyes widened and he said, "You
must have been there; no one
knows about those
unless they have been there; it's a classified area."
After our conversation he just kept
shaking his head.
My family and I
bounced from Point Mugu to UCLA for programming often,
and when necessary
were taken to
Edwards Air Force Base for further programming.
The Star-Spangled
Banner
Oh, say can you see
by the dawn's early light
What so proudly we
hailed at the twilight's last gleaming.
Whose broad stripes
and bright stars through the perilous fight,
O'er the ramparts
we watched were so gallantly streaming.
And the rockets red
glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof through
the night that our flag was still there.
Oh, say does that
star-spangled banner yet wave
O'er the land of
the free and the home of the brave.
Yeah, it still
waves, but not over the land of the free and the home of
the brave.
263
"Fear them not
therefore: For there is nothing covered that shall not
be revealed;
nothing hid, that
shall not be known. " -- Matthew 10:26
264
Brice Taylor -
Thanks for the Memories, pp 237-240
Chapter Thirty:
UCLA Neuropsychiatric Institute
Is It East or West?
I experienced many,
many episodes of brainwashing, mind control,
electroshock and tortures of
the mind at the
University of California at Los Angeles,
Neuropsychiatric Institute in Westwood. Their
involvement was the
government's insurance that I would remain
functional and amnestic of my use. Dr.
Louis Jolyon 'Joly'
West's horrific expertise was involved so that I
could be used at the highest levels over
the years without
risk of my breaking down and remembering. Henry sent
me with messages to give Dr.
West, with
instruction in regard to things within me that he wanted
checked out. Bob Hope didn't have
that connection,
only Henry had access to West. I reported there for
years but began going regularly after
Craig got into
University of Southern California Dental School in 1973
and we made the connection in
Westwood with Dr.
Milo Brooks, my original childhood pediatrician.
Nurses there
checked me and wrote notes in regard to my pulse, eye
movement, foot responses,
etc. In an attempt
to scramble and confuse my conscious mind as to who
Dr. West actually was, he would
cross his arms and
point in both directions saying, "Is it east or is
it west." And even now when someone
asks me for
directions and mentions east or west I become momentarily
confused and can't give them
the directions. Dr.
West also programmed me to the red and green
freeway on and off ramp signals, by
hypnotically
suggesting that when I saw the sign upon entering Westwood
it would make me switch to
the personality who
had the information and knew where to go to report
into the hospital. After my visit,
when I saw the
signal on my way home, the sign was to remind me to
forget what happened.
I was never allowed
to walk near or ever act like I knew Dr. West when
I saw him walking in the
corridor of the
Neuropsychiatric Institute. I was instructed to walk by
him with no recognition
whatsoever. He was
a very large, heavy man, the "big wig" around there,
and seemed to be in charge of
everything and
everybody. I was programmed to report there to see his
doctors for many years. There
was a younger
doctor who put me in an examination room and did lots of
neurological testing on me and
checked my
responses to make sure I was still reacting within the
normal range. He also directed me to
walk into the hall
and go into a bathroom and wait for him. When he
arrived he had sex with me and
afterwards gave me
the suggestion that I wouldn't remember.
There was a room
with a two-way window/mirror. After awhile I knew
there were others watching
from the other side
of the two-way mirror, since the doctor testing and
asking me questions would
occasionally glance
up at the window/mirror as if to communicate to
those watching - "see, I told you,"
or "pay attention."
They asked me lots of questions and at times I was
displayed so other doctors could
see how I worked. I
was seen as a high-level success since I was so
split that I could be used in many
different modes
without conscious awareness. I had actually been
directed to enroll in the study of
psychology at
Pepperdine University in Malibu. They were concerned
that, if what I'd been privy to
hearing there at
the NPI leaked into my conscious mind, they could have
problems. So they had me get
my degree in
psychology and study enough to make sense should my vast
reservoir of psychiatric
knowledge and
jargon leak into conscious awareness.
They had to check
me more often after my accidents in 1985 and 1987.
During the time I was a
student at
Pepperdine University, I was more accessible to the Malibu
and Point Mugu areas, and so,
available to Reagan
at a moment's notice in the Malibu area when he was
in California. Occasionally Dr.
West would slip
into an examining room when the younger doctor was
examining me. He explained that
there were some
things he wanted to see for himself. He was arrogant
with the young doctors and very
authoritarian. I
heard him make condescending remarks about
psychiatrists and clinical psychologists as
being beneath his
level of expertise, since he was an MD
neuropsychiatrist. He thought my therapist in
265
Westwood, Stuart
Perlman, Ph.D. was uninformed and easily controlled in
my therapy in 1988-91,
since Stuart didn't
consider the biochemical aspects of my case. I
reported to NPI on an irregular basis
when I was told to
report and I took Kelly there when instructed. As my
functioning level decreased
when my early
childhood memories began leaking back into my conscious
mind, I was instructed to
report more often
to UCLA-NPI. They knew the chemical combinations to
shut me down at night so that
I couldn't access
certain portions of my brain and memory during dream
state, which I had begun to do.
That was why they
had me take halcyon with a glass of wine every night
during my term of therapy with
Stuart. Whatever
this chemical combination was, the nurse told me to,
"take 1/2 or 1/4 of a halcyon
tablet followed
immediately with a glass of wine, preferably white, and
you'll notice immediate
sleepiness and will
fall into a very deep, peaceful sleep."
Then a doctor came
back into the room after the nurse left, and said,
"Repeat the directions to
me." So I did and
he said, "Exactly right. You're to follow these
directions every day in every way in order
to feel better. You
will not, I repeat, you will not jump off of any
building. You will not harm yourself in
any way. Do you
understand my directions?"
Eyes closed and
listening intently to his instructions from a deep
trance state, I nodded yes.
He said, "Fine, you
may go home now."
And I got up,
walked out of the hospital and all the way through the
campus to my car that I
parked near the
library. When I drove past the stop sign on the freeway
on-ramp it reminded me to "tuck
this experience
into the deepest recesses of your mind," and I returned
home.
When the memory of
events I was programmed to forget began flooding
into my conscious
awareness, I began
responding by wanting to cut, burn myself or jump
from the top of a high-rise
building in Los
Angeles. I just thought I must be really
psychologically disturbed to want to do
something like
that. I simply could not fathom what was wrong with me
and why these selfinjurious
commands
continually caused me to feel like compulsively hurting or
killing myself. And I had no way of
knowing that my
controllers were not actually ready for me to do myself
in, at least not until my
assignments with
them were completed.
Mind Control
Tune-ups
There was a surgeon
at UCLA who instructed me to drive to the hospital
to have sex with him. He
had dark hair,
lightly dark skin, brown eyes and hairy arms. He was 6'
tall, of good build and on the
young side. I was
instructed to meet him at the doctors' cafeteria.
Usually he had on his surgery greens or
blues and we would
have lunch together. He was a vegetarian, and I
watched him eat and later he had
sex with me in a
small bathroom in the Neuropsychiatric Institute. The
bathrooms in the NPI were
unisex and he would
open the door, wave his hand for me to pass inside,
and then he would quickly slip
in behind me and
whisper, "shhh," so I wouldn't say anything. He
switched the light off and began
feeling me all over
and he usually preferred entering me from behind.
As programmed, I smiled and
laughed and acted
pleased no matter what. He liked for me to give him
oral sex in his red sports car, but
not when the top
was down. For programming purposes, he jingled keys in
front of my face and then
he'd take me out
and sometimes we walked in Westwood or went to lunch
in a back booth at The
Bratskeller
restaurant. He had a good laugh when I told him about my
therapy with Stuart. He said,
"Dressed in little
shorts like that and looking innocent like you do,
how do you think he can keep his
mind on business?"
I laughed and told him Stuart didn't understand.
Truth was, Stuart wasn't sexually
addicted.
This UCLA doctor
took me to different rooms in the NPI for
reconditioning and "tune-ups," he
called them. One
day he lifted me up on the examining table and I was
giggling. He said they were taking
real good care of
me, keeping all my parts oiled and lubricated to keep
me in good working condition.
There were large
tube-like machines that they put me into. When they
closed the door, shutting me
inside, it made a
vacuumlike sound as it closed tightly and it kind of
echoed inside. I lay on my back and
there was a small
square mirror, mounted over my face. I think it was
suppose to make normal, regular
266
customers feel safe
or less claustrophobic. Although this doctor stayed
with me during the horrible
tests, he was kind
to me most of the time. I didn't like the tests, but
he told me what the doctors would do
and when. One time
two doctors used a scalpel and cut a small incision
behind my right ear for
something. I didn't
know exactly what they were doing to me. They were
always testing, probing and xraying
me. They must have
a stack of records on me a mile high.
They put me into a
machine that was like a cylinder that spun me. I saw
lights, and color; blues,
pinks, yellow,
white, coupled with sound and electroshock. I watched
and recorded in my photographic
memory as the
doctors in white coats mapped my forehead and face and
attached wires to me. At this
event there was a
whole room of people sitting still like zombies, all
with our heads totally mapped out.
Each
mind-controlled individual has code numbers that follow them no
matter what research projects
we were assigned
to. They were studying our brains in all different
contexts, in all different
environments, with
different stimulation. They were also studying the
genetic effects. They studied a
wide and varied
range of the effect of environment and genes on a
persons brain function, their life
function, their
longevity, and their productivity. They monitored brain
function by reading EEG
printouts taken
from electrodes placed on my head, and registered and
mapped lots of data that was
inputted.
Mind Control
Technology of the Future
There were lots of
times they laid me on a gurney and injected me with
drugs, and then the
doctors talked to
me while I was under the influence. There were many
doctors at UCLA who knew all
about mind control
and were well-trained for the technology of the
future. They were told they were
specially selected
because of their intellectual abilities "to
participate in an effort at world peace in the
only method known
to man." They were trained in the latest methods in
how to program and operate
under mind control.
There were lots of doctors involved, different ones
at different times in different
places. I was
"demonstrated and modeled" often over years for their
learning, understanding, and
financial benefit.
There were demonstrations for doctors, scientists,
prison officials, and other
professionals who
were selected to receive this top-secret mind control
information.
Reagan was involved
in this endeavor for years, ever since he was
Governor and because he was
cooperative and
"went along with the program." Then in later years, as
President, the amount of people
who witnessed the
demonstrations grew as the plan for the New World
Order grew closer to
implementation.
Those who were brought in to see the mind control
technology could never go back to
not knowing. They
needed an army of professionals to carry out the plan
and the numbers of people
involved increased
dramatically in the 80's after Reagan and Bush got
into office and cooperated to the
fullest.
During Reagan's
administrations the doctors at UCLA did tests and
demonstrations in front of other doctors explaining how I worked, but
they called this "studies"
of the mind or brain. They didn't refer to any of it as mind control,
but instead gave it the catchy name
"behavior modification." They had a circular arena where they conducted
the demonstrations while I laid
on a table or sat in a chair naked, responding like a puppet to their
cues. The demonstrations involved
simple mind control techniques as well as telekinesis. Once the doctor
directed me to bend a spoon across
the room with the power of my mind. They told me to see the spoon bend
in my mind and to focus solely
on this thought to see it, and hear the words that played in my mind;
then the spoon would bend and
sometimes it would even move and fall off a table from across the room.
Once I was programmed to
hold out my hand with a key in it and with my mind I bent the key. I
curled it all up while I held my
palm and fingers still, my mind totally focused on the key. Most people
have no idea the power a focused mind
has. The doctors watching would gasp. They also programmed me to start
a fire from across the room with
my mind. Large grants were given to doctors who wanted to do further
research
into the power of the mind or the mind/body connection, or studies of
the brain. During one
such demonstration, a group of doctors witnessed the presenting doctor
give me the hypnotic suggestion
that I would not be burned. He held a lighted match to my arm, and just
as he said, I didn't get
burned. One particular doctor filed by at
the end of the
demonstration to get a closer look at my arm to see if,
indeed, I was not burned. After viewing my unburned arm, tears welled
in his eyes, and in Catholic
fashion he performed the sign of the cross on himself and said,
"Forgive us," and walked away. Over the years, most scientists and
doctors didn't respond as this
sympathetic, compassionate, scientific human being did. I believe that
many were uninformed as to
the level of the mind control
experiments and
usages, and did not know exactly how the mind control
was accomplished. But my controllers were well aware of these
technologies and used them to have
me appear as "supernatural" to people they wanted to influence. They
could pre-program in these
manifestations and have them occur seemingly spontaneously without
outside interference. This was how they
rigged so-called miracles for the Pope and other Catholic leaders at
the Vatican. They programmed in
'miracles' like making my hands bleed at the palms like Christ did or
making me speak in high Latin
tongue to the Pope or Bishops, delivering messages that dropped them to
their knees, kissing their
rosaries or necklaces or my feet. I didn't know what they were saying
to me because I didn't really know
Latin. They, like many others, were open to these miracles delivered to
them on what they thought were the
'wings of angels' (me) to
influence them.
They thought I was some oracle delivering God's
messages or angelic messages. I even delivered messages to Reagan with
a religious theme, but it only worked
on those who were religious.
I went between UCLA
and Point Mugu Naval Base often for this
technology. Point Mugu had large banks of audio equipment, dolphin
tanks, and a
pool, and UCLA had
brain-testing equipment, MRI, and virtual reality gear.
"For wide is the
gate and broad is the way that leads to destruction,
and many there are who enter that
way." -- Matthew 7:1
268
Brice Taylor -
Thanks for the Memories
Chapter Thirty-one:
Weaponry Technology of the Future
Kissinger and Nixon
Visit the Reagan White House
Nixon and Reagan
talked a lot together. I know because I was there a
number of times when that
happened. They even
talked at the White House after Reagan became
President. One time, Reagan was
sitting at his desk
in the oval office when Kissinger escorted Nixon
in. Kissinger greeted Reagan by
saying, "Mr.
President, Dick is here to talk with you. He has some very
useful information on foreign
policy that will
help us." Then he added quietly, "Now I know as you do
that no one is to know where this
information came
from, but I thought you should be informed."
"Sure, have a seat
Dick." Reagan said. Nixon smiled awkwardly as he
held out his hand to Reagan.
Initially, Reagan
didn't seem too happy, as if he had some reservation,
but appeared to quickly
work through his
feelings, and gathering more acceptance, reached out
and shook Nixon's hand.
Nixon said, "I have
information on some key foreign policy that needs
to be implemented before
the year's end to
insure smooth diplomatic relations with Russia and
Saudi Arabia and a few other minor
European
Countries." Standing there in his light brown suit, Nixon
looked pretty nervous.
Kissinger said,
"This information may be key to unlocking broader and
deeper foreign relations,
especially with the
Soviets."
Reagan leaned back
in his chair and clasped his hands behind his head.
Then, he closed his eyes. I
could see what he
did because Henry had placed me off to the side by
the wall on a wooden bench, in my
"parked" mode,
waiting for further direction.
"Russia will be an
ally if we can provide the following." Kissinger
said.
"Guns (munitions),
corn and," Nixon added, following his comment with a
laugh like this was
absurd or
something, "they would like free surplus wheat and grain -
whatever we have in the stockades.
We wouldn't have to
go to any expense. These surpluses have already
been subsidized by our
government, so
there will be no further cost to us. It's all just a
layout on paper with no money exchange,
just surpluses in
exchange for information."
"What sort of
information?" Reagan asked.
"The sort of
information that is held in top secret abeyance. It will
have to be approved by the
higher-ups." Nixon
said, continuing, "If we don't agree, there could be
dire consequences for our
country. The
higher-ups said we have no idea the havoc that will be
created if we don't comply with their
requests. There's
little to lose - just some excess surpluses."
"So you're saying I
need to authorize the transfer of these surpluses?"
"Yes, Sir,"
Kissinger said, "the others will take care of this
information on their end. You need not
be worried with the
details, they will be taken care of and if there
are any loose ends, I will personally see
to it that they are
wrapped up." He handed Reagan a piece of paper to
sign. "We need your authorization
for the shipments."
Reagan put on his
glasses, picked up a pen and signed the paper
Kissinger set before him. "Dick, I
appreciate your
help in this matter. Foreign policy always came so
naturally for you and I appreciate
your continued
interest." He leaned back in his chair again.
"Anything I can
ever do to help." Nixon said, standing and offering his
hand to Reagan again.
Then he turned to
Kissinger, shook his hand and left saying he would
see himself out the side door.
Henry sat down
across from the President, leaned forward and with great
seriousness, looked
down at his folded
hands, "I don't have to tell you how damaging this
would be to the American public if
it got out that
Nixon was advising us on foreign policy."
"No, no of course
not Henry. Look, I have a meeting at 10 with the
White House Staff. I appreciate
your help with this
foreign policy. We all have our strengths and
weaknesses." He smiled apologetically
to Kissinger and
reached out to shake his hand good-bye.
Henry stood up,
shook Reagan's hand, completing the handshake by
putting his other hand over
the top of their
handshake. I don't know what that meant, if anything.
Then Kissinger nodded to me and
269
we walked out to a
waiting black limo. Lots of times in DC I waited in
the limo for Henry while he
went in and out of
places. We were all over the place. Henry had keys
to lots of offices. I don't know why,
but he did.
Lots of times I sat
in on the meetings Kissinger had with Reagan and
others, so I could report
back to the Council
(in a debriefing) accurately, exactly what was said
and done at different meetings.
Arms Distribution -
Guns for Drugs
Some countries
wouldn't take anything except guns in exchange for their
drugs. Reagan knew all
about it--Costa
Rica, El Salvador, Jamaica, and other countries. Reagan
cooperated with the Council
fully, doing
everything they asked. He okayed American ships to meet
with Soviet tankers to exchange
guns. Sometimes
drugs were laundered through several foreign embassies
so they couldn't be traced to
their original
source and then the American guns would be transferred
to Russia, China, Japan, etc.
The Council members
were kingpins of drug coordination and money
laundering down through
specific American
corporations in order to get political favors and
laws enacted in their favor to keep
their top
companies. AT&T was one of them. The Council insured
the financial success of these
companies so they
could continue using them as fronts for their
operations. The Council is at the top of
the powerbrokers.
Each President went along with them or they are
killed like JFK was.
My mind files were
filled with information on guns, armories, and
statistics on where the guns
were located and
the inventory. Involved foreign dignitaries or leaders
could access this information in
my mind files so
they could know what was available to trade, then they
would send me back with a
message regarding
how much the gun supply could wield or buy in
exchange for drugs. Then I would be
debriefed by the
Council and prepared with a return message for the
foreign leaders. From what I
witnessed, illicit
drugs and gun running backed much of the American
economy.
Reagan was not in
any way unaware of the arms deals we made with
foreign countries as he
publicly portrayed.
I know because the Council sent many arms trade
messages through me to him and
then he would give
me the message and the Council would retrieve it
through debriefing me. This was a
message I gave him
from the Council: "Mr. President, the Council sends
their amicable message to you.
Arms will go to
Iraq in exchange for hostages." Sometimes after I
delivered the recited message, Reagan
got really nervous
and paced back and forth. But finally he would give
his answer for me to take back to
the Council.
Usually it was just a "yes." Lots of times Reagan made the
decision without Bush's
knowledge. For some
reason I felt like Bush really knew what was going
on. Reagan always seemed so
uninformed, he
never seemed to know what was happening and he made many
decisions blindly without
knowing the details.
More on Guns and
Drugs
There were wooden
boxes of munitions on a dock that were to be loaded
onto a large ship. I was
there to make sure
the load of "sugar" got on safely and that payment
was made. The men accepting the
shipment waited
until the men in black police uniforms walked away and
then they opened one of the
boxes and lifted
guns, rifles, and hand grenades out of the packing.
Packed on top were bags of sugar to
make it look like
the whole shipment was sugar, but it was only a cover
for what was really underneath.
This was a
government operation - a highly camouflaged, covered up
government operation. A group of
American officials
were selling munitions to a nation we were at war
with. It made the United States
government lots of
money. They didn't even care that the guns were
being used to kill our own soldiers.
Noriega was
involved. It was a dangerous operation. The orders were
that if there was any chance of
being caught, the
shipment was to be thrown overboard. It was too risky
to get caught.
There was also a
naval officer that was involved. He was shaking hands
with a man that I came
with and they were
talking privately out of my earshot so I couldn't
hear. The officer gave commands to
270
one of the members
of the crew to unload the shipment onto the docks
and then they rolled the cargo
down the docks and
stacked it on large carts. I climbed aboard the ship
and we left immediately. There
was a window of
time that was opened to get in and out to complete the
deal. It began at 0800. So we left
port immediately
and were quickly underway. There were some kind of
devices on board that rendered
our ship
untrackable at sea, so that they could not be detected. This
way no one would even know that
the United States
ship had been to the port. Sometimes the big naval or
other kinds of ships would
unload their
cargoes onto smaller ships that would then go into the
port to deliver the goods. Our
government had very
dirty operations. I was sent to deliver messages,
many of them in foreign languages
to whomever the
delivery was going to.
Another time I was
used in a drug operation, I was delivered aboard a
large Navy ship to an
Admiral who was
standing behind his desk giving directions to a
lieutenant. The blue eyed, heavyset
admiral was dressed
in a white uniform and hat with navy blue and gold
trim. He had on black patent
leather shoes and
was very brutal. I think his name was Brimhall or
something like that. I was ordered to
give him oral sex
and some of his ejaculate fell onto his shoe. For
that he slapped me with the back of his
hand so hard that I
fell backwards.
We were going out
to sea and when we neared Mexico we went into port
for "supplies," which
meant a drug
transaction. There were transactions in the Caribbean,
also usually aboard Navy ships. I
was on board to
service the Admiral and then complete a drug
transaction. The Navy ships went the
route and to
destinations of a major drug cartel. What looked like the
defense of our nation or training of
our troops was
really drug transportation that made lots of money for
the U.S. The Presidents were
usually well aware
of this business. The revenue was justified as
funding large projects deemed necessary
for American
defense. It was all a vicious cycle of lies and
manipulations.
I was sent ashore
to meet "the man with the parrot" and was usually
dressed appropriately for
him to recognize
me. They dressed me with a parrot shirt to match the
parrot man I was meeting. The
messages were
always different; sometimes I told the man to meet us
with the stuff at 0800 at a certain
latitude and
longitude out at sea off this or that coast. Lots of the
deals and the boarding of goods (drugs)
took place out at
sea. This way no one could detect illegal drug
trafficking, as there was no one to
monitor the
transactions late at night, out in the middle of the ocean.
Everyone in the
government that held any position of power was well
aware of these drug
transactions and
their importance to our country's economy. In part,
this is what keeps America head
and shoulders above
the world economically. These ships went all over
the world Mexico, Caribbean,
Costa Rica, Haiti,
Cancun, Cozumel, Cabo San Lucas, Panama, Brazil,
even Germany and USSR.
For years, I was
used off and on to carry messages. They used lots of
different slaves for these
activities because,
otherwise, someone could get familiar and be
detected. I know because I overheard
them talking about
that type of security and how important it was for
the Lieutenant Colonel to widely
vary the "pigeons,"
used for messages. I was taken from my home late at
night and boarded onto a ship,
did my assignment,
and was returned back home late at night. I was just
phased back into bed with my
husband, as if I'd
never left. I was kept at Point Mugu or other bases
in isolation, and then debriefed
before I was driven
home in a sedan to Agoura Hills. Sometimes I was
helicoptered to Point Mugu, but
always transported
late at night. During the drug transports I was
always assigned to top men on the
ships with orders
to please them in any way they desired. Then I was
usually taken into the Admiral's or
Captain's private
quarters. These rooms were nice, but small, and I was
told to wait for further
instructions or to
have sex with him. There were portholes in the room
and it was simple but very
expensively done,
as far as the materials: nice wood, brass and usually
decorated in red, white and blue.
Sometimes after sex
I would sleep in his bed with him until it was time
for the transaction. Then he
would wake me up
and instruct me in what to do, what to wear, what to
say. Sometimes there were palm
trees on the
beaches where we dropped off a load of 'goods,' on a
remote beach. It was always at a
271
different time,
different location; so no one could detect or monitor
what was occurring. Sometimes
the coast guard in
certain locations was involved but not on a regular
basis. They must have been
individually
involved.
On many of these
excursions, other factions would interrogate me in an
attempt to find out
information. They
would use bright lights, exhaust me, yell questions,
withhold food and pull my hair or
take hold of my
hair and smash my face into a desk in an attempt to
gain information about my job, why
I wouldn't talk,
who I was working for, endless questions. But nothing
would come of it, because they
didn't know the
keys and codes to access my mind file information, nor
did I consciously know.
Some of the big
deals I witnessed, involving more international
figures, took place in the
Hawaiian Islands,
like on Maui. And the deals involving Mexico took
place in Mexico, often in Mazatlan.
While vacationing
one year on Maui with my husband, I was taken away
from him by men in suits, put
on a commercial
airline by two Secret Service agents and flown to a
location like Jamaica or Costa Rica
to deliver a
message. I was given a clever disguise, dressed in a
tourist costume - a fruit patterned skirt
and blouse, with a
big straw hat with fruit on top of it, and made to
look like an overweight old lady. The
place I was taken
to was about an hour's drive from the airport by
limo, and I was delivered through a
dirty and
poverty-stricken town full of dark-skinned people, to a
harbor seaport, then taken down to the
docks to make the
deal. This way the person I was meeting on the ship
could simply cut the deal and
leave by ocean
without ever needing to be on land. There were palm
trees by the ocean and the coastline
area was pretty
much uninhabited toward the port. It was a rocky
seacoast in many areas with few sandy
beaches. I was
instructed to deliver the message only to the man in the
white uniform who took a hold of
my left hand and
elbow and asked me if I was lost. A man in a white
Naval uniform and hat brought me
on board the large
ship, momentarily, to receive the message I
delivered, "Sir, the bird is flying north."
Then he quickly
shuffled me off the boat and the Secret Service agents
took me away by limo and I was
flown back to Maui.
I was kept in isolation, without food or water for
a day, before I was returned by my
husband's side at
the pool where we were vacationing at the Hyatt
Regency in Maui.
Weaponry Technology
of the Future
While money was
made during those days from the sale of weapons, the
Council said guns and
munitions would be
obsolete by the year 2000. The frequency warfare
technology they possess will make
guns and munitions
powerless because those wielding guns will have
their brainwave frequencies altered
by the new weaponry
to such a degree that they won't be able to think
to commit a violent act. Society is
being kept unaware
of this until these self-appointed overseers of our
world have completely stepped up
the mind control
within the populace. Then the people won't care about
having obsolete weapons
because they will
be under the total lull and control of specific,
targeted electromagnetic frequencies.
Individuals won't
be able to commit crimes against the populace. My
controllers spoke about this as,
"creating peace on
earth, contemporary style." (For more information on
this still classified technology
read: Angels Don't
Play This HAARP, Nick Begich Ph.D.)
Kissinger Displays
His Robot Technology
Over the years,
Henry had me programmed to deliver information
regarding the mind control
robot technology to
different groups of men. These meetings took place
my whole life. He or a
spokesman
introduced me and explained to the audience, which were
usually small, pre-tested groups,
that I would
deliver a very powerful message.
But, the most
important message they were eventually to take away with
them was that I was a
human robot
delivering highly technical information and that this was
to be the technology of the future.
272
While I was being
introduced, I sat at the front table looking straight
ahead, waiting in "park
mode." Then I went
to the front and initially explained, "Due to the
inherent leap in technology, what
you are about to
see and witness is very real. Along those lines it
would be most appreciated if you would
hold all of your
questions until the end and our moderator will be more
than happy at that time to field
any questions you
might have. Thank you and now we'll begin."
Certainly, I was delivering this message
verbatim, as
preprogrammed and couldn't have thought on my own to
answer any questions.
And so I began,
"The history of controlling man is old. Could we have
the screen turned on
please?" I asked
the man at the projector.
"As you can see,
man was attempting to control his fellow man even in
the cave man days.
Actually this
attempt for control goes back even further." Meanwhile
the moderator flipped to a slide
showing androgynous
man pulling a woman by the hair where he wanted her
to go. "So," I continued,
"man's control of
man is ancient. What is on the cutting edge of
technology today is what we choose to
call, 'harnessing
the mind.' Who among us wouldn't like to be able to
have instant recall? Or to be able to
read and retain
information or documents." At this point they flashed
slides pertaining to whatever
career paths these
men were involved in and I had documents pertaining
to each field, e.g., legal
documents for
attorneys, medical reports for doctors, case histories
for psychologists, account ledgers for
bankers.
"Who wouldn't like
to have at your fingertips all the millions of
minute details we find we need
everyday to
function efficiently in our places of employment?
Gentlemen, you are not alone in your
needs and desires.
Since I have not seen a single hand in the room
raised, I take this to mean that you,
too, could highly
benefit from this new state-of-the-art technology in
the future of mankind's ability to
think clearly,
efficiently, and above all, with complete accuracy."
"Sound too good to
be true? You will be pleasantly surprised to find
that this technology is not
only true, but you
also could benefit from its use. Other corporations,
(or if it was a professional group,
I'd mention
doctors, dentists, lawyers, etc.) around the country are at
this time utilizing many facets of
this
state-of-theart technology. The computer will one day soon be
hardware of the past and the
companies that have
this new technology will be among those on the
leading edge. It will be impossible
to compete with
individuals or corporations who are currently adapting
to our new modes of
technology."
"Now, I'm sure you
didn't get to your current level of success by using
outdated modes of
operation. Why no,
I'm sure each of you was among the first to own the
latest in computer technology.
That is what sets
you apart from business people (doctors, lawyers,
CEO's, etc.) who did not have the
foresight that you
had to opt for the latest technology has to offer."
After listening to
this whole spiel, they were taken to their first
demo, and afterwards they were
asked to fill out a
brief questionnaire. They were asked to fill it out
in order to insure the perfection of
future
presentations. The questions were slanted toward gathering data
-)n each participant's attitude,
openness, etc. They
were also told they had the right to remain
anonymous; however, they were told
there was no risk
due to the fact that no one else would have access to
these questionnaires.
As a final note, I
said, "And to thank you, we will be sending every
person who takes the time to
fill out this
questionnaire a very special booklet we've been privy to
call, "How To Insure Success in
Business: Without
Burnout." So gentlemen, please loosen your ties, sit
back, relax and enjoy the final
portion of today's
presentation.
At which time, they
were shown some more slides and given a little more
information.
After 12 such
sessions, if their returned questionnaires kept
indicating they were "remaining on
track," they were
introduced to the higher level of being let in on the
secret. Then they were told that I
273
was "a robot" and
they too could own one, at very little cost to them.
At that point they were asked to,
"just sign here for
more information and one of our representatives
will be glad to further assist you."
These
demonstrations took place all over the world, for all different
professions, including the
scientific research
and medical communities. Even as a child of eight,
Henry said I demoed so well and
had such an
enormous impact on audiences that they would have their
mouths gaping open, and Henry
was so proud of
himself. By the time I was eighteen, I had spoken to
groups all over the world.
Over time I went to
"mini-conventions" for people who owned slaves,
where slave tips, slave toys,
slave trades, etc.
were exchanged amongst this certain group of men.
"Men in the know" is how they
referred to
themselves, who met to share their latest information.
I was there to hand
out brochures before I was demonstrated. People
loved the continual line of
programmed jokes
that I spewed out and thought it was hilarious that I
was handing out my own
brochure, miming
like 'a perfect robot.' At times both men and women
were in attendance. There was
some other business
I was promoting, initially - not mind-controlled
slaves - but that was what really
was being promoted
under cover at these meetings. Certain pre-selected
men were given large wooden,
golden keys, each
displaying a phrase or word to unlock me. These
individuals were allowed to unlock
and use me for the
evening at pre-specified times. It was explained to
these so-called gentlemen that
these "keys" only
worked for this one night. It was further explained
that due to the kaleidoscopic
programming effect,
that the keys would revolve a band on the outside
of my skull and would stop in just
the right place so
the eyes of the personality specifically keyed would
lock in each and every time. I think
those men who were
given keys were the only ones allowed to know the
true nature of my mind control
programming. They
must have been interested in purchasing "their own."
But publicly acceptable
business also took
place at these events parallel to this subterranean
line of business, so that money was
made from all
angles.
In later years,
Kissinger used the movie Working Girl as a scramble in
an attempt to keep these
memories from being
clear to me. It was not only used for me but for
lots of other corporate robots like
me. Henry said it
should sufficiently remedy any problems or
questions... should any of us robots begin
to remember.
"The kingdom of
heaven has suffered violence, and men of violence take
it by force. "
-- Matthew 11:12
"Blessed are those
servants whom the master finds awake when he comes."
-- Luke 12:37
274
Brice Taylor -
Thanks for the Memories
Chapter Thirty-two:
Robot Breakdown
The Second Accident
on April 12 was No Accident
On April 12, 1987,
at 9:15 a.m. I had another accident. I couldn't
fathom how or why I could have
another accident at
the same precise date and time, two years later.
But, after smashing my head into a
tree and breaking
my back in a horseback accident I began flooding with
more memories of the past and
began having even
more trouble functioning in my day to day world of
responsibilities. I was forced to
take more time out
to rest and heal in my conscious life. I sought more
chiropractic care and began deep
healing with
prayer, herbs, and increased body therapies. During this
time of physical healing I also grew
spiritually closer
to God and gained the strength of perspective I
would need to face further reality.
A Visit to the
Mental Hospital
It took a couple of
years but as my programmed systems began breaking
down, causing memories
of my past to begin
flooding uncontrollably into my present awareness,
I became increasingly more
dysfunctional. I
had trouble performing my daily duties as my past came
crashing into my awareness,
often with many
memories flooding in at the same time. I had trouble
dealing with my outer physical
reality, because
there was so much going on inside my head to distract
me. Paying attention
simultaneously to
both inner and outer realities was a challenge,
especially with my programming
throwing up
hypnotic commands to become confused, have a migraine, burn
or kill myself, or redirect
my thoughts in
another direction my controllers dictated. After
numerous memories of abuse by my
father, mother,
brothers and others, including ways in which I myself
was used within the system to
abuse others, I
asked my therapist, Stuart Perlman, to call Department
of Human Services (DHS) with
me and report all
of us. He did as I asked and I gave lengthy
interviews to authorities, hoping someone
would help me stop
this abuse and insure that my children and the other
children in the family would be
safe.
As I became
increasingly more dysfunctional, I was admitted to a mental
hospital in Westwood
for ten days and
got another dose of reality. While in the mental
hospital, a suited man entered my room
at night while I
was in my bed sleeping. He opened the door, came in,
sat down on my bed, hypnotically
commanded me,
looked around to insure we were alone, then quickly put a
tourniquet on my arm and
injected me. Very
quietly he said, "You are safe, you are very, very,
safe. Nothing you are remembering is
real; it's all just
a bad nightmare. Close down section 34 and remember
you are safe, very calm and very
safe. You don't
need to worry about anything anymore, everything's been
handled." Adding another vial
of the drug to the
syringe, he injected it into my arm and began round
two, "Stuart Perlman is your
friend. He is your
trusted friend helping you through these difficult
times. He and he alone can help you,
no one else can
quite fill his shoes and every time you look at his
shoes when he is sitting in front of you,
you will remember
this. Now you will sleep very deeply and when you
wake you will not remember any of
this or the sound
of my voice, but now you will sleep very, very
deeply. Your children are safe, you are
safe and you will
rest and sleep very deeply. Remember, you are very
safe." When he was through, he
took the needle out
of my arm, put all of his paraphernalia into a
black doctor's bag, and quietly slipped
out of the darkened
room. As usual, I viewed all of this from other
personalities within, ones that were
not asleep.
What these
programmers need to know is that when a person has multiple
personalities,
especially
personalities that have been programmed to have superb
memory capabilities, those
personalities can
and do take note of everything that is occurring. If
the presenting personality is
drugged, there are
still other personalities left inside, untouched by
the drugs who 'take note' of what is
happening. Due to
this, myself and others have recovered volumes of
experiences, as we healed and
275
reintegrated, in
order to be able to put together this larger picture
to present to you. Their misuse of
the technology
failed. Sorry Henry, back to the drawing board. I guess
you need a further distilled
diagram, because,
Henry, your security system was not locked up as
tightly as you might have thought.
During my hospital
stay, I brought up the issue of my children's abuse.
To my utter
disappointment, DHS
failed to take seriously the allegations of abuse
to the young members of our
families. Further,
as I was released from the hospital I leaned over
the desk to see my medical chart,
which read,
"Delusional." No one took me seriously then. I hope you the
reader will now.
Further Monitoring
at UCLA
My visits to UCLA
Neuropsychiatric Institute (NPI) occurred more often
after my 1985 and 1987
accidents, and the
ensuing head and back injuries. I waited in a room
lined with chairs and, when called,
I robotically
walked where they told me to and did everything just like
they requested. If they said, "take
off your blouse," I
did. Anything they asked of me, I did. They put me
into an examining room, and
tested me
neurologically, saying things like, "touch your nose, move
your eyes up to the left," that sort of
thing. Then they
tested me walking, bending over, etc. I saw the white
uniformed doctor refer to a list in
a little notebook.
He asked me questions to which I replied
robotically. He asked me, "What is your
name? Where do you
live? Who is your husband?" All these were standard
neurological examination
procedures.
Then an older
doctor came in and told me to follow him into a different
room. Things got more
technical then.
There was a room full of large recorders, the
reel-to-reel type with a chair positioned next
to them. He sat me
down next to the equipment and gave me long round
bars of metal to hold in my
hands. They were
always testing different things. I didn't know what,
but tried my best to do them
"right." If I did
it wrong they got angry and then I got hurt. The
doctor hooked me up to headphones and
told me to hold the
metal bars real tightly, and I was instructed to go
into a very deep trance state.
After certain word
phrases, I was electroshocked. I never knew when it
was coming and was told
not to let go of
the metal bars. When the phrases didn't apply to me,
like for instance, "I'm an Eskimo"
there were no
shocks. But after a true statement that was applicable to
me, I was shocked. Some things
felt very personal
and could have only been applied to me. Like, "I
love my husband Craig." Or, "I am a
good mother," or,
"I am happy in my life; therapy is making me a better
person." All kinds of statements
like that were
played through the headphones. Sometimes they shocked my
feet instead of my hands or
my head. Things
varied often and so did the people administering the
'tests.'
At other times a
white van picked me up from the streets of Westwood,
after a therapy session,
and took me to
UCLA. Sometimes they did stuff to me right inside the
van. They had equipment inside
and they said
things to me and delivered electroshock. It happened
often when I was in therapy with
Stuart, in
Westwood. The van would pull up to the curb and when the
driver leaned toward the passenger
window with his arm
across the seatback and looked at me, I was
programmed to come toward the van
and step inside.
The driver's uniforms varied, like a mail delivery or
some bogus repair service, and the
man accompanying
him would do the work on me. Sometimes they would
initially slap me around. I
never knew what
they were going to do, it was always different and I
was caught off guard and couldn't
protect myself. I
couldn't ever think to protect myself, even if I knew
it was coming. They caused all sorts
of violence in
order to keep me under control; they tied me up in a
chair and put a gun to my head, or
raped or tortured
me in some other way. They put knives to my throat -
anything they thought would
scare me. At times
there was a large mirror in the back of the van and
they would stand me in front of it,
tell me I was so
and so, and give instructions to that part of me to do
jobs or report things. There was a
wide variety of
electronic equipment in the back of the van. They
injected my arm with some drug and
then showed me
clips from a video. One time they showed me a clip of a
person unscrewing a big round
cap that let water
into the room that they told me I was in. I was told
it was real and that I would be safe
276
if I didn't
remember the past. In this virtual reality session they
told me that the water would come
over my head and I
would drown if I continued to remember. All this was
done in the name of "national
security." There
was great personal confusion over being in charge of
my body or its safety, as a result of
all these tests. It
was like my mind was removed from my body and acted
separately, and it was very
scary because I
wasn't able to be there to protect or help my own body,
or my children's.
When the men in the
van were finished with me, they pulled. up next to
my car, which was parked
in Westwood. When I
saw my car I was programmed to switch to Sue and
not remember anything that
had just happened,
but the other personalities were given the hypnotic
suggestion to remember to keep
their instructions
hidden and separate from Sue. The men told me to get
inside of my car, sit there for
awhile and drive
home when I was ready. If I was running late they told
me an excuse to deliver to my
family when I got
home. This happened more often and the trauma got
more intense while I was in daily
therapy with Stuart
and Margie.
Another time at
UCLA-NPI, I was sitting on a stainless steel table
where they had been
photographing my
brain from a x-ray machine that stopped and shot
pictures in four separate places as
it scanned my head.
The doctor said my brain was in a perfect state for
some sort of link up. Next they
laid me on a
stretcher and tied my ankles and wrists to the bars on the
side then they slid me naked into
a long silver metal
tube. They placed a small black mask over my eyes
just before they shut the door. I
thought maybe they
were going to kill me but they said only parts of me
died for others to be reborn. A
continuous cycle of
life and death for personalities kept things in
order, preventing chaos from an
overcrowded
internal system. This was how my personality system was
kept neat and clean, maintained
for their use.
The scientists and
doctors turned everything into a study. They merely
turned a mind control
slave system
breakdown or "containment problem" into another project to
further their research.
"You have heard
that it was said, 'an eye for an eye and a tooth for a
tooth.' But I say to you, do not
resist one who is
evil. But if any one strikes you on the right cheek,
turn to him the other also; and if any
one would sue you
and take your coat, let him have your cloak as well;
and if any one forces you to go one
mile, go with him
two miles. Give to him who begs from you, and do not
refuse him who would borrow
from you.
"You have heard
that it was said, 'You shall love your neighbor and
hate your enemy.' But I say to
you, Love your
enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that
you may be sons of your Father
who is in heaven;
for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the
good, and sends rain on the just and on
the unjust. For if
you love those who love you, what reward have you?"
-- Matthew 5:38
277
Brice Taylor -
Thanks for the Memories
Chapter
Thirty-three: Bill Clinton and Hillary
Over the years Bill
Clinton surfaced in higher level political circles.
At one of Bob's parties Bill was
all made up in a
Statue of Liberty costume, decorated in red, white and
blue, complete with blinking
lights. He was
holding a torch and he acted feminine. I had to have sex
with him later on and it felt
confusing to me
because it was like having sex with a girl in a man's
body. That was strange to me even
under mind control,
even compared with all the other strange and
perverted experiences to which my
controllers
subjected me.
In 1992, before he
was inaugurated, Kelly and I were prostituted to
Bill Clinton in Klamath Falls,
Oregon. On the ride
to meet him, we were told, "Remember Chappaquiddick
- that same type of accident
could befall you."
When we met
Clinton, he said, "Did you know that I am now your boss,
and you will do exactly as
I say. You are
under my command." With a robotical tone of voice he
told me to give him oral sex and to
get down on the
floor where I belonged. Then Kelly robotically sexually
serviced him after which I gave
him a message
before we were let out of his room.
Later on, I
delivered messages to Clinton from the Council, from Kauai,
before he was President. I
was delivered
aboard a very large ship, put into a stateroom and told
to stay on the bed and wait for him.
I did. He slipped
into the room without knocking and locked the door
behind him. He said, smiling
coyly, "I believe
you have something for me?" He had sex with me, with
my dress and his pants still on. It
was a quickie and
then I gave him the message. It required a simple
answer that I was to deliver back to
the Council. His
answer was agreeable.
Bill liked to be
sung to and have his forehead rubbed. He liked to play
mommy and baby baby Bill.
He was often very
strange.
When it came to
Bill Clinton, Henry would stoop low. He even sent up
bags of cocaine with me to
use when I was with
Bill or Hillary in order to get them off guard.
Bill and Hillary both did the cocaine. I
placed it on a
small mirror for them and they had glass nose straws
they snorted it through. Bill could do
the whole little
white pile with one snort. Hillary took two or three
sniffs to get all of hers. Then we
usually had sex.
When I said certain
things, they thought I was a gift from Bob Hope,
the entertainer. Bob and
Henry's real
relationship was kept quiet. The Clintons didn't seem to
know that Henry and Bob were
working so closely
together, one getting me into the White House while
the "Expert" Henry Kissinger
delivered the goods
in order to find ways to hang the Clintons. Henry
said, "I want them so badly."
After I was
through, two men in black uniforms with yellow-braided
stripes on their shoulders
came to get me and
one stood on each side as they escorted me back to
the helicopter that was on one
end of the ship. It
was a white helicopter. They put me in with the
pilot and I was flown back to the small
airport on Maui,
near the Coconut Inn, where I was staying, as I worked
on the writing of my first book,
Starshine.
Before he was
President, there was an occasion in a large hotel in Los
Angeles. The Clintons were
already heavily
guarded with a whole group of Secret Service agents.
For my use as a
sexual slave, I was trained to make love to married
couples by always bringing the
focus back to them.
"Isn't your wife beautiful! Isn't your husband
strong," or, whatever statements would
278
strengthen their
bond and love for each other, if they were to be kept
together. When I got through
with couples they
were totally enamoured with each other and hardly
noticed when I dressed and left the
room. I was used in
this way with the Clintons. There was usually
cocaine, often a gift from someone they
knew, routed
through me.
After the Clintons
went to sleep I left. A man stepped toward me as I
exited the room and escorted
me down a red
carpeted hall, to the elevator, and down to the lobby, as
he held my elbow and lower
forearm. At this
point, another man took over, making a very smooth
transition. I was pushed down into
a waiting limo (I
think it was a black Mercedes), as the man hurried
and slammed the door. I was taken
to the airport and
the driver radioed ahead, and a man met us at the
curb and hurried me onto my plane.
Now Clinton is
President
Kelly had a school
function or a friend's party at the Beverly Hilton.
I hadn't seen her in awhile as
she was living in
California and I was living on Kauai, but I was
brought in to help her with "The Prez,"
who was then
newly-elected Bill Clinton. He had a group of girls and
women there and that night he
wanted only oral
sex, along with chocolate and fruit slices.
Afterwards, it was my job to redirect the girls
back into their
social function so there would be no mix-ups.
Sex slaves were
used to sexually service both male and female members
of the White House when
our controllers
called for it, and I was not to be exempt. Once when I
was flown to the White House from
Hawaii, Hillary
played what she called "the tease game." She tied me up
so she could be safe, she said.
When she was
through with me she looked at her gold watch, said she had
to go, put on her dress and
left. I put on my
clothes and headed out to the waiting limo to Henry.
Henry always wanted
to know exactly what Hillary's verbal responses
were to things I said to her
and he listened
very carefully for speech patterning. They were trying
to create a phrase of words that
would stop her dead
in her tracks when she went to court for the
Whitewater incident. They had been
planning this one
even before Clinton took office. Henry knew and so
did his people. They were trying to
destabilize the
government by ousting the President. Their plan was
that "A cornerstone will fall, and
further destabilize
the American people. First Nixon, now Clinton, thus
the people will lose faith in their
leaders and the
democratic way of life. So they will want to change it
and will lean toward World Order."
I knew in 1993,
long before the Monica Lewinsky affair, that if Clinton
was ousted, they had succeeded
again in their plan
and movement toward the New World Order.
The programs I had
for the White House were pretty well-worn and
grooved. Henry often rode
with me in the limo
to the White House if he hadn't had time to load me
up beforehand. Sometimes, he
wanted to sharpen
me up or check my systems. He often went to have a
cup of coffee or a cigar while I
was doing the job.
When I came out of the White House, flanked by
Secret Service agents, I'd get into the
limo and he would
ask me to repeat verbatim what was said. I'd tell him
exactly what they said and how
they enunciated it.
I could record not only what they said, but I could
repeat it back just like they said it -
tone, inflection,
and all. And from that, Henry and his boys could run
a voice print; then, using it, they
developed a way to
control people through their own language patterns.
Henry put his cigar to his mouth
before saying, "If
you can get their patterns, you can control their
minds." They put me close to the
Clintons so they
could obtain speech patterns, information about
weaknesses they had and ammunition
to get Clinton
thrown out of office. They would stop at nothing in
their effort to chip away at the
Constitution and
democracy.
Henry Kissinger
hated Bill Clinton, but he especially hated Hillary. He
wanted to publicly
humiliate and
disgrace her by showing that she had illegal investments
and that she lied. Henry said,
"People (the
public) will be manageable after this is exposed."
279
Al Gore was easy
for the Council because I believe he is a robot like
me. Al Gore had me
perform oral sex on
him. He didn't do cocaine, though. He adamantly
refused. Henry said, "He's a robot
of choice."
I also had memories
of experiences where I was at the White House with
Hillary, Chelsea and a
famous female
vocalist, involved in a sex ritual.
My personal belief,
based on my experiences, is that over the years,
more leaders were under
mind control. I
believe it to be vitally important to dismantle the
system that has created this, as well as
gain aid for the
victims, but not to further punish or humiliate the
victims who are in need of
professional help
to heal. I know there has been corruption at the
highest levels in the White House, and
whether compromised
through blackmail, lack of spiritual integrity, or
mind control, I believe the
Clintons are caught
in a "Catch-22."
In a society where
mind control is insidious, the whole of society is
responsible in some way,
whether through
ignorance, denial, spiritual disintegration or greed.
To the extent that some of us are
not free, none of
us are free. I believe it is God's perfect plan for
those able persons to come to the aid of
those who are in
need.
In the center of
the flame there is a hollow place
and nothing can
burn in this sheltered space.
For the fire builds
a wall, scientific fact claims,
and insures a safe
area in the midst of the flames.
And in the
hurricane's fury there's a center of peace
where the winds of
destruction suddenly cease.
And this same truth
prevails in life's tribulations;
there's an island
of calm in the soul's meditations.
A place that is
quiet where we're shielded from harms
secure in the haven
of a kind Father's arms,
where the hot
flames of anger have no power to sear
and the high winds
of hatred and violence and fear
lose all the wrath
and their savage course
is softly subdued
as faith weakens force.
So when the fires
of life burn deep in your heart
and the winds of
destruction seem to tear you apart
remember God loves
you and wants to protect you.
So seek that small
haven and be guided by prayer
to that place of
protection within God's loving Care.
-- Helen Steiner
Rice
"Every word of God
proves true; he is a shield to tthose who take
refuge in him."
-- Proverbs 30:5
280
Brice Taylor -
Thanks for the Memories
Chapter
Thirty-four: Excuse Me, I Would Like My Life Back
As parts of my
personality tried to break free, there were many, many
attempts to bring me back
into the fold; all
of which included torture and trauma. In an attempt
to understand what was wrong
with me, I began
reading every technical book I could get my hands
regarding Multiple Personality
Disorder. In the
80's, there wasn't much written. As I read I
recognized symptom similarities but didn't
seem to fit the
mold of the 'garden variety' version of MPD, caused by
abuse without programming. My
search for the
truth was unceasing.
Desert Hot Springs
Between 1985 and
1990 my husband and I often went to Two Bunch Palms, a
spa resort in Desert
Hot Springs, which
is a neighboring desert city bordering Palm Springs.
Craig and I would go for a few
days to rest in the
mineral pools and utilize the luxurious massage
therapy and green clay facemasks that
were a part of the
resort's celebrity reputation. Once before I went, I
watched a King Arthur video and
when a shaft of
white light shown down on the oracle as he kneeled to
deliver a message from God to the
king, I began
crying and knew at once I needed to go to Two Bunch,
alone. Witnessing this, my husband
said, "Fine, it's
okay. Just go. Do what you need to, honey." I left
immediately. Arriving at Two Bunch in
the dark around 10
o'clock at night, I was terribly afraid, but didn't
know why.
"Two Bunch" as we
referred to it, was a 'double edge sword' where I was
accessed by Bob Hope
and a group of men,
including the Council. At the same time I was
receiving intense bodywork from
professional
practitioners, which helped shake loose memories at a
cellular level, other dedicated parts
of my personality
structure who were skilled to withstand torture and
humiliation continued to do so on
an increased level
so that I could continue therapy and healing. I
prayed daily for the Holy Spirit to bring
to mind those
things that needed healing in the perfect time frame, and
that is just what occurred. These
personalities
cooperated over the years of my battle for freedom by
absorbing the threats and abuse and,
in addition, kept
it separate from my conscious mind so I could
continue my quest for freedom,
unencumbered by
fear or resistance. After an intense session with a
gentle little old man who was an
expert in Trager
bodywork, my memories began to increase. During the
same visit, I was instructed to
attend secret
meetings at Two Bunch where I stood back while a group of
men talked. My husband was
seldom there. I
believe one meeting was "The Palm Springs Civic
Committee." Bob golfed with them and
they had business
dealings together.
There were times I
was picked up in the parking lot by a silver limo
and taken to Bob. Sometimes I
wouldn't even get
out of the limo; I'd wait for Bob and he would enter
to direct me. Other times I would
spend the day with
him. One night I was directed to a bunch of palm
trees late at night to look for the
White Owl. Bob Hope
ended up being the White Owl I was looking for. At
the time, I was unaware that
this was a program.
I walked outside into the late night breezes to
report to the Palm Trees and to Bob,
the White Owl.
Late on another
night at Two Bunch, in a nightmarish reminiscence of
the movie, Stepford Wives,
that I had been
required to watch years before, I robotically responded
to programming as I trekked out
to the parking lot
in the white robe provided by the spa. A limo pulled
up and mindlessly I climbed inside
where a man
immediately injected me with a drug. When we arrived at a
big warehouse-type building in
the desert that was
like a robot reconditioning facility, the man had
to help me out of the limo because I
was so drugged.
Once inside, doctors in surgical greens placed me on a
gurney and started an IV. It may
have been filled
with a truth serum drug, because that is the type of
questions they fielded me. They were
trying to identify
what I was doing in therapy, what I was remembering.
Repositioning me to a chair,
they slapped me
over and over and I wasn't allowed to go to sleep. If I
began to fall asleep, they slapped
281
me again. They were
very upset about the therapy and told me lots of
lies while they made me look
into bright white
lights. If I didn't keep my eyes open long enough,
they would hold my eyes open and
face me directly
into the bright lights. They kept injecting my arm, as
they yelled at me.
A man,
approximately 35 years old, dark-skinned with brown hair,
wearing a green tie, tan tweed
jacket, white shirt
and tan pants, entered the room. He directed the
doctors what to do and told them
what he wanted to
find out, then they supplied the drugs, electroshock
and lights. Returned to a metal
gurney, he asked me
questions over and over that didn't make sense to
me, while I sat on the edge of the
gurney with my head
hanging down, totally out of it. He showed me
pictures of people, men usually, and
asked me questions
about them and kept slapping me. Parts of my
personality system would not comply
and talk to him and
it was making him very angry. In response, he took
something sharp to the bottom of
my feet. Then he
called in the bright lights, and when my eyes could no
longer stay open as he
commanded, he had
another man hold my head up, prop my eyes open and
direct the lights in my eyes.
They kept this up
for what felt like forever. Then he laid me down and
put a long rod up my vagina to
shock me as he
said, "She'll talk, just give her time - we have all the
time in the world."
But I was
dissociated deep within myself and really didn't care if they
killed me or not. I had been
conditioned from
birth to take what they dished out and if I died, I
just wouldn't have to endure any
more. No more
suffering, it would be over. His frustration level
saturated, this man instructed his
assistants to lay
me down and they took an electric sheer, the type you
use to clip a dog, or prep a person
for surgery and ran
it up my pubic hair, up my stomach, all the way up
to my chin. He said it was
something to
remember him by, "To keep remembering what happens if you
don't comply."
After I'd given up
and was "gone" they pulled a plastic cap dotted with
little metal electrodes over
my head. They told
me over and over that they would make it much easier
on me if I would just
cooperate and quit
therapy. But I didn't stop. They had to carry me out
to the limo and when we arrived
back at Two Bunch,
the man accompanying me snapped his fingers in my
ear and commanded, "Snap
out of it!" and
followed up with the suggestion that I was very, very
tired and wanted a nap. Slowly, I
trudged back to the
room and went to sleep. I don't know where Craig
was.
Desert Hot Springs
was a place of horror for me as I attempted to get
well by working hard in
therapy with Stuart
and Margie. I remember Stuart saying to me after I
continued to show up day after
day with more
pieces of my painful past to process in therapy, "I have
never seen anyone who is more
motivated than you;
it's like you're running a marathon."
I responded, "I
don't feel like I'm doing this fast enough." No wonder
- neither he nor I
consciously knew
that I was still being tortured and reprogrammed;
reporting to the Federal Building, to
UCLA, to my
political abusers and to Bob Hope when assigned.
Consciously, I thought Two Bunch Palms
was a place where I
went to get rejuvenated to do more abreactive work
in order to recover. But even in
the midst of the
chaos there was a divine plan and timing to my life; I
just had to be extremely patient.
As my healing
defiance continued, I was returned to Two Bunch. One
night I got dressed to go eat
in the restaurant.
There was a very large clock that hung over the
entrance of the restaurant and my
instructions were
to, "walk to the clock at 6 o'clock." But instead of
going inside, I was instructed to turn
and walk to the
parking lot where a man in a white suit drove me by
limo late at night to a club. He took
me inside and
seated me in a maroon colored booth tucked away in the
darkened club. Sonny Bono came
out and told me to
enter the cleared area. He was twirling a whip like
he was going to lasso something.
Then he cracked the
whip. He did it over and over and it terrified me,
because I felt he was going to hit
me with it. Sonny
said there was nobody there to hear my screams.
"Scream all you like," he said
laughing. Jokingly
he added, "I kinda like it." He went on to explain
that he was "giving me what I
deserved for trying
to break the mold."
282
I was helped up off
the floor where I was huddled and delivered to a
group of men in suits.
They said I was the
guest of honor, but it wasn't fun. They said I was
stirring up a bit of trouble back
there in Southern
California and they just wanted to make sure that
nothing bad happened to me. They
took a long time to
tell me all this, slowly, calmly and smoothly,
before another man took me to a
dressing room type
of partition in a back room and, holding me up by
one arm, threw me up against the
wall and beat the
living breath out of me. I ended up in a heap on the
floor with my mouth bleeding.
Giving me one final
kick with his pointed boot, he said, "There, that
ought to do ya."
Another suited man
came in and began "taking care of me," he said,
while he took pictures of me
all beat up to send
to my family and friends, and he told me over and
over, things that didn't make sense
to me like, "You
are a queen. You will always be a queen; you have no
successor so you must always
remain the queen.
It's a matter of privilege; you must remain the
queen." His last instruction was, "Lay
by the pool and get
a tan," that I was going to be visited by "the
man." I knew the man he spoke of was
Bob Hope.
After I was
returned and spent the next day recuperating and tanning by
the pool, I was picked up
again. On the way
to see Bob they said my clothes weren't suitable to
see him so they stopped at a dress
shop in the Springs
and one of the suits went in with me and picked out
white slacks, a yellow shirt, a
gold belt and
sandals. Throwing my clothes in the trash he said, "these
are more befitting."
We met Bob in a
public place. I was taken to him and he broke free for
a moment and came over
to me, "Tsk, tsk,
is this anyway for a woman to be showing a good
example to her offspring?" He was
referring to my
attempts at freedom.
To further frighten
and intimidate me, he pulled a picture out of his
coat pocket of Kelly and I
naked together and
said, "The time will come my fairy princess to speak
of better things," and he
continued, finally
commenting that he needed to, "teach me
appreciation." Roughly, he took hold and
squeezed my collar
then abruptly let it go and walked away, like he was
through with me. Unfortunately,
he wasn't. I was
taken back to Two Bunch where I left the new clothes
in a massage room and returned to
my room with
another white robe on.
Another occasion
Craig was with me at Two Bunch, when late at night a
limo picked us up in the
parking lot. We
were taken some place and reprimanded for the therapy I
was doing and were
threatened with the
"loss of many things," if I didn't stop and if my
husband didn't make me stop. A man
in the limo took
hold of Craig by the shirt and warned, "Bob doesn't
want to have anything happen to his
important asset. Do
you understand?"
"Yes, sir," my
husband replied. He was very scared and for some reason
I started laughing.
Within seconds the
man delivered a blow to my face. I felt the stinging
of my cheek as his
attention turned to
me, "Do you find something funny, young lady?" I
became very serious and stopped
laughing.
I didn't have any
way to know then the uphill battle I faced, the
magnitude of the system I was
attempting to break
out of, or the many obstacles, heartaches and
abuses I would have to withstand over
time in my battle
for freedom. Despite the threats, my husband
continued to pay $3,000-$5,000 a
month for
psychotherapy and bodywork, for four more years of my
recovery. My controllers found the
fact that I was in
therapy amusing, totally assured that I was
processing from anywhere but the National
Security
guaranteed, mind-controlled area of my brain. Since they saw
me as a robot, they didn't worry
about being
discovered. Plus, they felt their secrets were protected by
their sheer incredulity.
I was programmed to
report to the Federal Building, which was in very
close proximity to Stuart's
office and to UCLA.
I went upstairs to the 7th floor, exited the
elevator and went down two doors on my
left. I was told,
"You will find a room with a view," which cryptically
meant there was a closed circuit
television for
instructions. Further I was told, "Sit down, soak up the
view, then go back downstairs and
283
try to read the
newspaper in the stand and report back if you can." Due
to programming against it, I
couldn't read it
but always followed orders and tried. I was at the
Federal Building often. It was a place of
"orders
headquarters" from Henry. He gave me instructions over closed
circuit television when he
couldn't gain
access or time with me anywhere else.
I had a lot of
disguises to wear into the Federal Building. Hats, dark
glasses, old baggy dresses, or
skirts I'd throw on
over my short shorts. I received closed circuit
instructions at other locations also, like
in rooms in hotels
or at corporate offices, office buildings in Los
Angeles, Santa Monica, or in the San
Fernando Valley.
But, at times, Henry had something urgent and needed
access to me immediately, so he
sent me to the
Federal Building. I also delivered my own medical
reports from UCLA to the Federal
Building to send
back to Henry. I guess it was like a mind control
report card. My continual breakdown
created more need
for "check-ups."
Hope Tries to Bring
Me Back Into the Fold
During this time as
my memory began bleeding through, per program, I
suffered with severe
migraine headaches
and other programmed responses to this security
breech. In another of a series of
containment
efforts, Bob directed me to hike up to China Flats, a small
waterhole area located on the
Jordan Ranch, down
the street from my home. He told me to meet him
there at 4 p.m. Bob was flown in
on a two-seater
helicopter. This meeting was intended to bring me back
in line and was not much
different from the
little chats he and others had been giving me. Like
always he started out very calmly
and before he was
through ended up shouting at me as he paced all over.
He always said a lot of, "When
are you ever going
to learn?" in between the programs he triggered me
with and he called me, "my child."
What he and others
didn't understand was that I was not any more
capable of really controlling of myself
and my actions than
I had ever been. The actual problem was that now I
had parts of me who were
becoming conscious,
which was triggering the acting out of their
program commands and this was
disrupting my usage
and threatened to destroy their plan for my life.
In my soul I wanted to be free, but
it would take time
to accomplish that.
Robot Breakdown
Strategies
One day, Henry and
George Bush were having a "meeting of the minds," as
they called it, to decide
what to do with me
since the efforts to keep me 'in line' and 'on line'
were continually failing. As I sat in
'park mode,'
overhearing their conversation, George Bush said, "We're
going to have to waste her Hank."
Henry replied,
"George, we have to be rational and calmly think ahead
to the future. Just look at
the situation we
are faced with. This isn't one isolated case. Sure,
she has been my closest watched, but if
she's breaking down
after all we've done, then the others can do the
same thing. We could have a world
of trouble on our
hands and I don't mean that lightly. We have got to
restore her and send her back out
there. We'll need a
hundred of them like her to help keep the others
marching in line. We'll just create a
new scenario. It's
our game, we can create it anyway we choose, like we
always have. I just need some
time to figure out
a plan. Take her out now and we actually will lose
control. We can use her to learn
from our mistakes
to correct them next time. I'm sure I can devise a
plan that will capitalize on this. I
just need time to
go back to the think tank."
As I continued to
break down even further, I overheard Henry Kissinger
say to a man I didn't
know, "We may as
well monitor her closely and watch how she breaks
down. We've got a lot of others
like her out there
that are going to need tending to. So we'll learn
from her how to best take care of the
others." Through my
therapy with Stuart, Henry was hoping to seal up
the holes in my consciousness
that were leaking
memory of my past, especially the over the rainbow
parts of my life experience that I
was programmed not
to remember. They were attempting to do a repair in
my mind from my childhood
so it would shore
me up for further use. They also wanted to set me up
to keep others locked into
284
programming, while
they listened to me lecture on how I got out, which
I wouldn't really have
accomplished. After
the culmination of their plan, they felt they would
have the masses' minds under
control and would
no longer need to continue the charade since no one
would be able to think to
question anything
that was occurring. They felt this would greatly
simplify the human condition so that
those self-chosen
elite who were qualified could exist in peace and
have superb quality of life. Henry said
he had been
witnessing too many robots cracking up and he needed me to
be restored so I could
complete the
business that was planned for me with the contacts that,
over the years, had grown to know
and love me. He
said I had put in the time and had gained an intimate
trust with many important key
players and I had
to finish out my time by continuing to be of service
to the people that had grown
accustomed to me.
So they shored me up with therapy, submerged me in
the new age healing program
lock-ins and began
getting me conditioned to not be with my husband so
much. Craig and I had been
inseparable for
many, many years, so this was a slow but steady change.
Henry had me peruse
the leading bookstores, buy a variety of new age
books from different
categories, read
them and report back a synopsis. This gave him plenty
of current 'rages,' he called them
and data that he
could tap into to devise a strategic plan for the
future.
And Henry's plan
soon emerged. One day after my therapy session, men in
suits accessed me in
Westwood as I went
down the stairs that faced the back parking lot and
confiscated my whole journal.
Skimming through
it, one said, "She's written out a whole agenda." They
told me I didn't need to worry
about this anymore,
that they would be glad to handle it for me. And
they walked away with my journal.
Then I had to
report for more reconditioning in their attempt to shut
down the leaks. This was in the late
80's. Henry felt it
was crucial to monitor me heavily until I'd made
the transition fully into the new
'persona' they were
creating me to be: increasingly a more independent
woman, very together, good
speaker, writer,
etc., for the future. In this way I could serve as an
attraction and ultimately a
containment person,
with an agenda of speaking out about satanic ritual
abuse. Then others would miss
the real story
about the mind control while their own programming would
be sealed even tighter by
words they would
program me to deliver. "Like one of those Chinese
finger puzzles," Henry said referring
to the containment
web. This was all done so when they transferred me
to Hawaii, the transition would
go smoothly.
Was it Escape or
Relocation and Redirection?
After I fled
California to Kauai, what I was still not yet aware of was
that as parts of me celebrated
their freedom,
other programmed parts were still intact, fully
programmed and still serving "the cause"
my controllers
dictated. Actually my "flight to freedom" was not yet
fully realized; instead it turned out to
be a clever plan my
controllers devised in order to use me to the
fullest during the stepped up
culmination years
of their plan. They went about destroying my marriage
and having me watch movies
that superimposed
the reality they wanted me to believe. I was directed
to watch the movie Shirley
Valentine and when
I went to the Whole Life Expo, a psychic that I
walked by reached out to me and told
me that I would be
making a trip across the oceans to a new life. My
life was still out of my own control
and unbeknownst to
me I continued to serve their plan, only now from
the tiny island of Kauai.
A Heavenly Message
Feeling lost,
disoriented, and missing my family I left behind, I
sought out places of solace on the
island. One day I
had an incredible experience. The white sand beach on
Kauai felt warm beneath my
skin as I allowed
my body to melt into the relaxation of the soft sand,
basking in the warm gentle rays of
the Hawaiian sun as
the wind gently caressed my aching body and spirit.
The sweet smell of the pungent
plumeria flowers
that I laid near my head continued to waft a heavenly
aroma. My body felt exhilarated
from the swim in
the beautiful blue Hawaiian sea water. The uplifting
Christian praise music that played
through my Walkman
lifted me ever higher, soothing and easing the
tension in my wounded, terrified,
285
disoriented mind
and body. As I rested, I once again heard, very
clearly, the words of the Holy Spirit,
"Doesn't one so
wounded, deserve to heal in the most beautiful place in
the world?" Tears of
acknowledgement
streamed down my cheeks and dropped onto my large
magenta beach towel.
Silently I cried
out in desperation and despair, "God, I miss my kids
and my husband. I'm so
confused, I feel
lost and weak, what should I do? Help me Father,
please help me." Soon I felt comfort as
the Holy Spirit
wrapped His huge loving, soothing arms around what I
was to later discover was this
most wounded of
souls. I fell into a deep, peaceful slumber,
momentarily letting go of all of my cares and
burdens and was
entered into that peace that passes all understanding.
And I began to realize the
meaning of those
words learned so long ago in Sunday school. This
peace, enveloping me in the midst of
the chaos and
confusion of my life, gave the promise of hope. And this
time it wasn't Bob.
When I awoke from
this peaceful slumber, I was guided by the Holy
Spirit to take a walk. Silently,
I was led in the
direction of an old sign that read, "This is the site
of an ancient Hawaiian refuge, a
sanctuary for
natives escaping unjust accusations and retaliation by
their accusers where those seeking
protection can find
refuge." Tears came to my eyes as I realized 1,
too, was being allowed to take refuge
there. And for the
moment I felt safe. The Holy Spirit gently nudged
me, like a loving father caring for his
young, in the
direction of the crescent shaped rock wall bordering and
enclosing into safety, the small
swimming beach
called Lydegate. I stopped to take in the incredible
view, the turquoise blue waters,
sending wave upon
wave crashing into the large rock fortress that
protected the beach. I marveled at the
glorious sense I
felt that the Almighty Creator of the heavens and the
earth was gently rocking the world,
thus creating the
beautifully graceful, never ending wave formations.
Breaking my thought
the Holy Spirit spoke again, calling me by the
nickname He has used over
the years,
"Starshine, look to the right of the large rock beside your
foot. There you will find a gift."
Hardly believing my
ears, I questioned, "A gift for me from my Heavenly
Father? Was I hearing
correctly?"
Curious now and
with the anticipation of a small child awaiting the
opening of the first gift on
Christmas, I bent
to discover what sort of gift from God was there for
me to receive. Reaching out, my
hand found it
before my eyes, and I pulled the small object from it's
home on the sand and held it before
me, carefully
examining each and every detail. It was so tiny, so
intricately detailed and so, so fragile.
The paper thin
shell remains of the mini sea urchin was so extremely
fragile that I was afraid I would
crush it and break
it simply by holding it.
As I continued
gazing on this miniature gift from God, I listened with
quiet intent as my Heavenly
Father spoke to me
once again, "My child, you are so precious to me. I
will hold you in the palm of My
hand, just like you
are holding this small gift from me. You need to
know that as this shell is extremely
fragile, so are you
at this time, in ways you have yet to understand.
Do not fear, be patient with yourself
and know that I am
guiding you step by step. Most of all remember, you
are never alone."
Deeply touched by
this message, yet completely without understanding of
the ways in which I
might be as fragile
as the tiny, delicate shell that I held in my hand,
I cautiously wrapped my fingers
around it and went
back over to my place on the beach. Lying down, with
the gift still carefully held in
my hand, I
contemplated, "How could I be that fragile?" As I thought,
the only explanation I could come
up with was how at
times, due to the many still unintegrated multiple
personality states I often found
myself in, I was
often unable to perform even the simplest of tasks.
For instance one afternoon, alone at
Kay's, so far away
from my home in California, I found myself hungry
yet unable to even think to
remember how to go
about making my lunch. Feeling two years old and
indeed locked, for the moment,
into a very
childlike personality, I could not even begin to think how
to make myself a sandwich. The
perfected gears in
my mind were not turning on their own, as the
sophisticated machinery created by
Henry Kissinger,
Bob Hope and others, broke down and came to a
screeching halt. And where it stopped,
286
left me often
locked into the mindset of a two-year-old. I just
couldn't function. And so I thought,
perhaps this was
the type of situation that my Heavenly Father was
aware of and was reassuring me that
He was there for
me, all I had to do was trust. Broken and unable to do
anything on my own, yet with the
trust of a child, I
allowed myself to relax into His promise.
Later that night as
I got ready for bed, I placed the tiny, fragile
shell on my windowsill, to remind
me of the promise.
And so it was that God led me to healing and
complete recovery, in His time, and in
His way, so that I
could be with you to share His message today. For
God wants all of the wounded,
mind-controlled
slaves to be freed and he has tasked me with the
assignment of being the fiduciary, His
trusted servant,
willing to facilitate the release and healing of those
wounded souls locked into the
bondage of mind
control. And so if you find yourself not free, God will
make your way to freedom, and
will lead you every
step of the way, just like He did for me. He has
promised to make your way. Jesus
said, "Ask and it
will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock
and the door will be opened to you.
For everyone who
asks receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who
knocks, the door will be opened."
All you have to do
is ask.
Interwoven into the
many experiences I had where the Holy Spirit came
to guide me, were also
other experiences
where the parts of me that were still programmed
realized that I was still not free.
Soon after I moved
to Kauai, without my conscious awareness, I was
delivered to
Barking Sands
Missile Weapon Site, located on the south shore of the
island, and at other times serviced
people like Ronald
Reagan, Bob Hope and his friends on the golf course
in Princeville. George Bush met
me at the tiny
Princeville Airport in order to direct me into further
assignments and threatened me in his
attempt to keep my
renegade freedom fighter personalities under wraps.
In spite of my
controllers' attempts to shut down conscious access of
how I had been used, I
continued to have
flashbacks of many of my political experiences and I
began to more fully understand
the way my
programming worked. These memories, that often included my
family, gave me a fuller
picture of reality
and helped me understand why I couldn't yet safely
return to California. As I grieved
the loss of my
husband and children I had left behind in California, I
was spiritually guided to thank God
no matter how bad
things looked. I found myself sobbing through my
tears as I cried out, "Thank you,
God, I love it!"
even as they eventually took custody of my children
away. The Holy Spirit continually
showed me that no
matter how it looked, I was still in the right place.
And while it appeared that I served
two masters, all
along God knew that I was still in service to a
greater plan that I would need to
experience and be a
part of in order to chronicle it and share it with
you now.
Kauai Containment
Center
The friendly
recovery network I was connected to while on the island of
Kauai was still carefully
held within a
network of programmed people so I would be surrounded by
the programming themes
intended to keep me
in bondage. It is a very clever plan. I was
welcomed with loving arms by Kay Snow
Davis and Charles
Davis. But mixed in with incredible love, healing,
and Holy Spirit insight, was also a
secret agenda, one
that to this day I believe they also were
unconscious of. Charles drove me around the
island to welcome
me and orient me to my new surroundings. While we
drove, he set in barrier blocks
within my mind that
would later block memory of my use at different
areas including large hotels, like
the Westin, Hyatt,
Princeville, CoCo Palms Resort, and Garden Isle Inn.
The Westin Hotel on
Kauai was full of big white statues, huge indoor
pools, waterfalls, and large
cultural art
pieces. Kay took Kelly and I there one evening, when Kelly
was visiting, and as we walked
around the hotel,
she hypnotically laid in number systems from one to
eight, designating different areas.
Later when I
received the little post cards in the mail, alerting me to
my assignments, I could decipher
the simple codes.
All they needed to say was W- l and I knew that would
mean the Westin, a room on the
287
first floor. An
eight would mean the far restaurant and so on. Each
hotel had a letter assigned to it
and numbers
identifying areas where I was to go.
Not yet in touch
with the many reporting personalities I had that were
still intact, I thought I was
safe. Actually, I
was contained by many things in my environment. First
I was contained by the network
of programmed
individuals I was living amongst as their programmed
statements and hand signals
continually
reinforced my 'remember to forget' programs. My memory was
also blocked by the endless
visual images that
were linked in my subconscious mind with hypnotic
program commands to forget.
Many of these
images in my daily environment were things like the large
building-size murals of whales,
dolphins and
rainbows that I drove by every day. I was also still
reporting back to California to old
friends and other
people who I didn't know were programmed. Then, I was
reporting to the 800
numbers I was
instructed to. The containment plan was and is large, and
will continue to work very
effectively - until
enough people are able to see what is actually
happening.
Still a Working Girl
I was actually kept
very busy on assignments, yet consciously thought
that I went to the beach
every day. There
were blocks of assignments but I never was to enter a
hotel from the same direction
twice so I wouldn't
be detected or become a familiar face to the wrong
people. Some places Kay cued me
to and other places
Charles did. But I was cued to large hotels all
over Kauai and some of the neighboring
islands.
I was programmed to
stand on the corner of the highway and was picked
up by a military jeep and
taken to Barking
Sands Missile Range. There were underground facilities
and if the base was threatened,
even for the
security of classified, top secret information, then they
had missiles and bombs set to go off
which later would
be explained as an enemy attack. I don't believe the
military guards knew exactly what
they were
protecting. When I'd round the corner with a senior
officer-in-charge, they'd look surprised at
first, but I was
waved through before being taken to a high-tech
operations room. Once inside they sat
me in a large thick
metal chair that spun and did all sorts of
torturous things, but they told me my mind
was numbed so I
couldn't feel the pain. They numbed my mind with
hypnotic suggestion while my body
spun. Then I was
instructed to lean into position to look into the big
goggles. The pictures I saw began
with a bee and
other nature scenes and then it all went so fast I
couldn't see the individual pictures. That
way the information
went directly into the subconscious mind without
any conscious intrusion or filters
to connect the two.
As long as the programmed information bypassed the
conscious mind they felt I
couldn't remember
because I wouldn't be able to connect the information.
When I was to meet
Reagan on the island, I received a post card in the
mail and it had the date,
time and place on
it to meet Reagan. When he came alone I met him at
the Princeville Airport. He
arrived anonymously
by helicopter with Secret Service agents. A limo
was waiting inside the fence to the
airport and the
helicopter would land right by it and Reagan would be
rushed off the helicopter, and
hurried into the
limo and we'd be taken to the Princeville Hotel.
Another time I was
programmed to meet Reagan at the Princeville Hotel
on the north shore of the
island. He entered
through the large sliding glass doorway and I was
sitting in a chair in the lobby,
instructed to watch
for him. This was in 1991 and Reagan had come to
the island for a visit. When he saw
me he quickly
pointed toward the left side of the hotel indicating that
I was to walk that way.
Immediately I
walked in the direction he pointed. As I got out of sight
of people and into a back hallway
he quickly walked
over to me, said hello and told me that he missed me,
then he spun me around for
programming
purposes and escorted me to the elevator. Men in suits
followed close behind and he
explained that he
still had agents guarding him that we would have to
contend with.
288
We entered into a
large peach colored room that overlooked the bay.
Reagan said Nancy was
flying in to meet
him later and said he just wanted a reminder of me.
He went on to explain that he really
missed me and he
really missed being President. He said he was really
surprised just how much he
missed it. We had
sex in the usual stance, with him passively beneath
me. Afterwards he smiled and said,
"You've still got
it kid." He patted me and I lay next to him until he
fell asleep and then I let myself out of
the room. I passed
the agents in the hallway having a cigarette by the
elevator and waited mindlessly for
the valet to bring
my rental car around. When I returned home, I was in
a stupor and went straight to
bed, all traces of
the memory neatly locked beneath the programming
that protected it.
The Last Time I Saw
Bob Hope Goodbye Cruel World
Another day when I
drove my Lexus to Princeville, I accompanied Reagan
and Bob on the golf
course. I rode in
the golf cart and was pretty out of it while we were
on the green. All I could do was clap
and smile when they
did well and I kept score manually for them. While
Reagan was taking his turn, Bob
said to me, "So you
think you got away, huh?" Shaking his head he
continued, "There are bigger fish in
the sea that got
away, but you my dear are not one of them."
I smiled and
curtsied to Bob, like I had done for years.
Bob softened and
said, "Feels like old times out on the course, doesn't
it?"
"Yes it does, Bob."
I answered just before he began to relive and
rehash the past, constantly
referring to old
times, old movies he'd starred in, old performances,
USO tours, old people - THE PAST!
He said he loved
the Princeville course, loved the view and said that
the ocean air was good for him. He
had some sinus
problems and said they cleared right up when he was out
in the ocean air. He never once
mentioned sex,
maybe he'd become to old.
They didn't bother
playing the whole green. Bob wasn't real strong and
one time he fell into the
golf cart and took
a hold of it like he was having trouble seeing and
walking. Reagan asked him if he was
okay and Bob
replied, "Hell yes, let's go on, I'll be fine." I didn't
know then that this was to be the very
last time I would
see my owner in person.
Prince Charles
Visits the Island
Prince Charles came
to the island when he and Di were having marital
problems. He came just to
relax and get some
perspective. The Council instilled a whole agenda
into me for the week I entertained,
toured, listened,
and had sex with Prince Charles. Retrieving this
memory made me really nauseated.
My Children are
Reprogrammed
In an attempt to
rescue my children and provide them with a safe home
and believing I was
actually safe and
free, I brought them to the island. I had no idea
that I was still being accessed, and that
they were also.
Consciously I thought we just went to the beach
everyday, while the kids played with
friends and surfed.
But later I remembered that when they arrived they
also were taken to Barking Sands
Missile Base. Their
programs were stepped up to match my new level
after which Danny was very sick
and laid on his
futon and cried for two days.
While on Kauai,
when Kelly was with me for the summer we were
programmed to perform as a
mother-daughter sex
team. We were also filmed in underwater ballet and
sex with dolphins and other
sea creatures in
pornography. Sometimes we swam with underwater sea
turtles, they were such docile
creatures and they
weren't interested in sex. I could relate to them
because all they tried to do was get to
safety so they
could relax and finally be at peace. There was lots of
porn filmed on the island. They felt
the natural
splendor would only enhance the productions and they filmed
lots of slaves with dolphins.
They filmed us in
shimmery suits, or braid wraps, all sorts of fancy
hair and body jewels and ornaments
or jeweled waist
belts while otherwise naked. There was quite a
following of dolphin porn lovers. When a
male dolphin got
excited, his penis stuck up and looked like a Bird of
Paradise flower. We all learned that
289
if you weren't
scared and approached him lovingly the sexual encounter
wouldn't be as painful. There
was a rich local
attorney named Ken whose job was to sufficiently
launder the proceeds. I delivered
money to him from
Sylvester Stallone and from other less prominent men
on the island.
Sylvester Stallone
Stallone liked to
have group sex with lots of women and he liked Kelly
and I together. He had us
the first time when
we were staying in a cottage in Anahola. As
programmed, during the middle of the
night I went to my
daughter and said, "Kelly, Kelly, wake up, we have
work to do.
"No Mom," Kelly
said, "I'm tired."
"Wake up now!" I
commanded, snapping my fingers drawing my 13-year-old
daughter into a
wideawake state. I
held her hand all the way to the rental car we drove
when I first arrived onto the
island. We drove to
Stallone's house in Anini Beach and parked in the
drive. He said that since it was a
rental car it would
be fine. Kelly and I went into the house and out to
a oval room where there were other
girls waiting. One
was Japanese and another brunette. At first we all
just sat and looked at each other,
smiling in awkward
embarrassment. Sly walked in with a white towel
around his otherwise naked body
and held his hands
out to us. He told us we were waiting for the 5th
wheel but she never arrived. He
laughed and
directed us into the bedroom. He pointed to Kelly and said,
"I want her first." He told her
she had the Bo
Derek look and he kissed her before she began her
trained, skillful sexual repertoire.
Stallone was
snorting cocaine and during the group sex it was my job to
remember to offer him more. He
had a small spoon
that he stuck up his nose to snort the white powder.
Kissing Kelly he said, "Bob has
good taste."
Pulling her hair back and kissing her more deeply he
added, "and it's getting better all the
time." When he was
finished sexually satisfying himself with her he
rolled her over and said, "rest little
baby," as he went
to the other girls in turn. We never spent the night,
stayed just a few hours and after
Stallone went to
sleep I kissed his cheek, took Kelly's hand and we
tip-toed out.
Stallone once said,
"There's nothing quite like a slave. I love getting
them from the underground.
You're all so
cooperative, don't give me no shit. This is the life I
tell ya'. No bitchy, demanding women,
not when I can have
beautiful, sweet, white women who set me free. It's
all about freedom," he rambled,
while laying on his
back in a seemingly drugged stupor, about "America
the Beautiful and the home of
the brave." He was
high on cocaine. The higher he got the better the
animal lover he was to become. That
was his code name,
"Animal." And when they told me, "the Animal" wanted
Kelly and 1, then I knew it
was Stallone. I
also gave him massages, often in open air areas.
Sly thought the
dolphin porn was the greatest new combo and he directed
a lot of the porn videos.
It was filmed at
areas at the North Shore, Poipu or, he had us
helicoptered into remote areas for filming.
Large cameras were
taken out to these remote island areas. I delivered
some money from Stallone and
from other less
prominent men on the island to Ken, the wealthy
attorney who had a big beautiful house
in Kilauea. I
believe it was his job to see that the money was
sufficiently laundered.
Sly wore a wet suit
but we were always naked in the water. There were
trained dolphins that we
did water ballet
and swam with. When we swam gracefully the male
dolphin got excited and started
nudging us. We
grabbed onto them and went for the ride; if we didn't,
they told us, "one wrong move and
you could get
ripped to shreds." The dolphin actually remembered us
over time and the same male would
consistently choose
the same girl, even when the group size changed
from small to large. They got to
know us and didn't
forget in between. When my sons were on the island
they were filmed also. One day
after the filming,
Sly said to Kelly, "You come back soon, ya here?"
During other
visits, where I was supposedly allowed to see my children,
Kelly and I were
prostituted to
Charlton Heston, and I was to Kareem Abdul Jabaar. Taj
Mahal, the jazz musician, was on
the island to keep
other slaves in line through satanic rituals. One
time I was programmed to drive to
290
Secret Beach at
night to attend a 'gathering' where, unbeknownst to my
conscious personality, I was
raped in a ritual.
Consciously I
thought, as my programmed reality dictated, that I had
escaped from my controllers
in California and I
was now safe. I believed I had rescued my children,
and as the summer came to an
end, I began the
process of enrolling them in island schools. I moved
from house to house, attempting to
keep our
whereabouts anonymous, only to have my stillprogrammed
children call back to their father in
California and
report our current location and phone number. It was
terrifying. And I thought I would
die of grief and
terror when Craig told the kids and I that if I didn't
return them to California he would be
sending in a police
escort to bring them home. Devastated and panicked
but not knowing what else to do,
I returned my
children to their father in California. Shortly
afterwards, my attorney notified me that if I
wanted to ever see
my children again I needed to attend a court hearing
in California. Frightened of the
danger of being
accessed, I called Ted Gunderson (retired FBI official)
who helped me hire a bodyguard.
I flew to
California, where behind the judge's closed doors, I lost
custody of my children. My attorney,
Doug Wolfe, let me
in on the news when he informed me in the Courthouse
hallway, "You're lucky to be
alive, just get
back to the island and get a job."
My children's
programmed father and our controllers were now in even
more total control of their
lives.
The Wind Beneath My
Wings
Extremely sad and
depressed, I returned to the island. The job I took
when I returned was to
begin to more fully
document many of my memories and I began writing my
first book STARSHINE. It
wasn't an easy task
because first I had to undo the endless programs
that kept me from being able to use
the word processor
without a programmed part of me destroying the
information I had just typed. But I
was determined to
do whatever it took to get eventual help for my
children. Memories of a political and
international
nature often flooded my awareness and I documented them
each time something new
came to mind. Due
to the vivid nature of flashbacks I experienced, I
spent nearly two years stuck in the
body memory part of
my Kissinger experiences and had to live with the
smell of this cigar smoke and
listening within to
the sound of his accented voice. Similarly, I
flooded with sexual memories about Pete
Wilson and Ted
Kennedy. Talk about intrusion!
Since I had no
money, I hired the 'ocean' to be my therapist and with
God's guiding, I actually did
some of my best
memory recovery work alone on the beach, with the ocean
holding the space of peace,
love and strength
for me so I could delve to the depths of my own mind.
With the solid foundation built
from years of
memory recovery done while I was still in California, and
after a year on the island
retrieving still
deeper layers of memories, and programming, I had a
pretty clear picture that something
was up - exactly
what I wasn't sure. I couldn't imagine why I would be
with Henry Kissinger, Nixon or
Reagan, or what was
so important about me that people were following me
and overly interested in what
I was doing. But
all my memories, held together by the pages in my
journals, began to neatly fill in the
picture. In 1992, 1
purchased a light and sound machine of my own, and
after mastering the fear
associated with
using some of the same technology my controllers had
used on me, I began to more
easily recover even
deeper layers of memory. Soon I realized the
programs that controlled me were
broken and
nullified as I became consciously aware of them.
Bush Flies Into
Princeville
But my other secret
jobs didn't stop and with my family out of their
way, I was now freer and
more unencumbered
than ever to work for my controllers. George Bush met
me at Princeville Airport, a
very small airport
on the north shore of the small island. Then we
would both be helicoptered to Barking
Sands Missile
Range. When we arrived he and a military officer saluted
each other and then he was
escorted to an
outside structure that had glass doors.
291
At another time,
George Bush met me at Barking Sands Missile Range, for
a talk about "getting
back in line." I
was parked in my Lexus waiting near the entrance when
Bush drove up in a military jeep.
A military officer
was driving him. Bush told me to start my engine and
follow him. I followed through
the gates that were
opened for him into the missile site. He motioned
me out of my car and stomped over
to me. He stood and
yelled in my face about being irresponsible. I had
a hard time hearing or
understanding him
because it was extremely windy. I also think
personalities inside of me were
attempting to
shield me from his barrage of programmed verbiage. He
waved his glasses around while he
yelled at me. In
his cryptic mind control lingo Bush said, "Get into
line or Kelly will be on a #9." He was
referring to the
well known freedom train mind control theme, of being
thrown off the train, which
cryptically meant
her death. Angrily, Bush saluted and told me to get
back in my car and get the hell
home. He was very
angry.
An Act of Nature
Sets Me One Step Closer to Freedom
But "category five"
Hurricane Iniki changed many of their plans and
this act of nature ultimately
worked in my favor,
freeing me a little more each day. I lost the home
that I attempted to recreate on the
island to the
hurricane, and as I healed my mind, body and spirit, I
realized more and more every day
that I still wasn't
safe. In order to have the electricity to continue
powering my laptop, Patrick Stone, the
man who helped me
write Starshine, (himself an unrecovered victim of
mind control), and I were forced
to leave the
island. Military planes evacuated us to the island of
Maui, where we continued writing. There
we were continually
visited and harassed by men my controllers sent to
the hotel that we later discovered
was also a
"containment center." True to the network containment
strategy, our friends on Kauai
referred us to this
place and we continued writing while we were
monitored. It frightened me because I
was now conscious
enough to realize that I continually ended up in
places where I thought I was free, but
I wasn't. This was
due to the fact that I wasn't fully integrated and
half of my programming was still
intact and
affecting me, still binding me hopelessly to my controllers.
In many ways I felt free though,
and continued to
heal and dedicate my life to service and God. While I,
Susan, wrote, my 'inner twin
sister' Sharon took
the heat and once again endured the physical and
mental tortures so I could be free to
write Starshine. My
dissociative state was now being used in my favor,
although it often wasn't easy.
One night while in
Maui, I had a dream and saw a map with a check mark
identifying Oregon. At
that time I was
unaware that I was receiving telepathic messages, often
at night. I called Margie Paul and
told her about the
dream and that I felt guided to move. So she talked
to a famous movie star that was
also her client and
asked her to recommend a place. Through that
recommendation, I moved off Maui
and took what few
belongings I had left with me to Ashland, Oregon. I
rented a home, referred to me by
this movie star's
realtor friend, and began writing. Kelly and Danny
visited me at Christmas. Soon after,
Kelly and I were
prostituted as a motherdaughter sex team to Clinton,
who had just been elected, but not
yet inaugurated as
President.
I didn't realize
that I was still programmed not to notice when I was
'missing time.' Healing,
integration and
deprogramming didn't come as quickly as I wanted it to.
Healing took time. But my
continued
motivation to heal and figure out what this all meant kept me
uncovering more and more in
regard to my own
programming and how the system all worked.
Months later I
mustered the courage to move back to California. I
desperately wanted to help my
children, and felt
I was recovered enough and safe enough to do that. I
didn't know I still had layers of
personalities and
programs still intact that would keep me under
control, and unfortunately neither did
David Neswald, the
therapist I worked with there in Southern
California. To make matters worse, upon
the completion of
Starshine, as I readied it for print, my brother,
Rick, who was one of my programmed
controllers, and
whom I had chosen not to see for years, was able to
access me one last time. This
accessing allowed
him to gain entrance to my apartment in Calabasas and
rape me, threatening that if I
didn't stop with
Starshine they would publicly display the compromising
pictures that he then took of my
292
children and me.
The next morning, I awoke disoriented, terrified, and
confused and had no idea the
source. But later
that day, I "remembered" the horrific scene and was
grateful to have at least
remembered it
because, in the past, it had taken me months, often years
to remember traumatic events.
In hysterical
panic, I once again phoned Ted Gunderson for further
advice on how to stay safe. He
told me to get
special locks for my doors, and a security system, and I
had alarms that I bought for each
door so if anyone,
including myself, went in or out, they would sound
off. I even purchased an alarm that
I wore on my body
and set it off if anyone of a suspicious nature
approached me. It was terrifying, as I
realized I was
still not able to keep myself safe, due to programming
that operated beyond my control.
Soon I realized,
though, that this traumatic event was actually another
"gift" to me, without which I
would never have
known I was still under program. I continued working
in therapy with Dave Neswald
who, although well
intentioned, was not informed in regard to how my
sophisticated government
programming worked.
I had hired bodyguards in the past and now he and
Ted were suggesting that for
my safety I hire
one again, only full-time now. With very limited
funds, and enormous mounting therapy
bills, I wondered
how I could afford a bodyguard? I compromised and
hired a live-in housekeeper who
would at least be
with me most of the time, as my therapist was afraid
that my controllers would switch
me with my "twin
sister" and take me away. I lived in absolute terror,
trying to keep the trauma from
occurring not only
at my controller's hands, but also at my own. I was
scared all the time, because I
couldn't even trust
myself, not knowing if I would involuntarily switch
and put myself or my children in
danger. Most of the
time, in those days during 1993, 1 couldn't even
complete a sentence when I
attempted to
communicate and my mind felt confused and exhausted.
I persevered toward
getting Starshine into print. When I began to
ponder just what the cover
should be like, I
found a booklet in a craft store with a picture of an
angel that I just knew had to be on
the cover. The
events that occurred later that day, proved to me
without a shadow of a doubt that God's
angels were indeed
watching over me. When I called the artist and
explained that I wanted her angel to
grace the cover of
Starshine, she agreed without question. The only
thing she wanted me to know was
that this was the
angel she had designed for the White House Christmas
tree that year! Talk about
synchronicities and
miracles.
Attempts to Stop Me
Over the years, as
I attempted to heal, break free, write and get my
book into print, I was harassed
in many ways. Over
time, I paid more and more attention to the triggers
that were sent my way to stop
me from remembering
and becoming free. These messages and triggers
actually provided a guide, a road
map of sorts,
toward discovering and dismantling deeper layers of my
programming.
For years, I have
been tailed, my phones are usually tapped, people
have been "sent in on me" in
my controllers'
attempt to reprogram and regain control of me. Other
people were 'sent in on me' in a
timely fashion,
such as in 1992 when Patrick Stone and I 'bumped into'
Dutch Schroeder, his Baylor
University coach,
who just happened to be vacationing on Maui during
the exact same time we were
writing the FBI
chapter in Starshine. When we had lunch with he and his
wife, he told us he was one of
Bill Sessions'
friends. At that time, William 'Bill' Sessions was still
the Director of the CIA.
At other times, men
in suits found me in homes of acquaintances,
beaches, restaurants, hotels and
cabins alike and
made their threats; physical and verbal. My car tires
were slashed, my mail was
tampered with,
often held back for months, only to mysteriously arrive
in bunches up to two years after
the postmark date!
Phone messages, powerfully, cryptically encoded and
laced with programming
intended to keep me
under control were played over the phone or
recorded on my answering machine.
293
Shrill sounds
and/or tones were also played over the phone to tap into
my programming. Disturbing
written "triggers"
intended to either frighten me into submission or
keep me from remembering, were
sent by mail. As I
ran for my life from state to state, two separate
individuals rear-ended my car on the
same day, within
hours of each other. I was set up and programmed to
pose for compromising photos in
an attempt to
blackmail me should the need arise. And, as I mentioned
earlier, during 1993, in my quest
to get Starshine
into print, I was threatened and warned to cease with
its self-publication. And, when I
didn't stop, I was
raped.
The CIA Lends a
Hand? Tennessee Bound
But a breakthrough
occurred. Ted Gunderson called to inform me that he
had just heard from
another woman who
lived across the nation, who had also sent him her
memory work about being used
as a sex slave to
Ronald Reagan. Although it was a terrifying time for
me, it also was an amazing time of
discovery for all
of us. Mark Phillips, her so-called therapist and
deprogrammer flew across the nation
and told me that
"Jimmy Carter's people" had called him in an attempt
to stop him from meeting with
me. I flew Mark and
Cathy O'Brien to California to meet with me for the
first time and I put on a seminar
where they were the
featured speakers. Mark Phillips knew all about my
programming. Looking back on
it now, he seemed
to know way too much. He asked me if I had "a twin
sister who was two inches shorter
than me." This was
a very powerful key and code into the programming of
my "inner twin sister,"
Sharon, and this
seemingly simple statement controlled my body in a
very intimate way from the
outside, showing me
while in normal consciousness that I was indeed a
robot, and not in control of my
own body. Shortly
after Mark and Cathy's arrival and seminar, a series
of events occurred including an
accident and
ensuing hospitalization of the person that was living with
me as my safe person. Mark
Phillips explained
that I was not safe in California and once again I
ended up running. I paid to fly Mark,
Cathy and I back to
his mother's home in Charlotte, Tennessee where we
began my process of what we
then called
"deprogramming."
Several weeks
later, with nearly 10 years of recovery behind me, this
so-called "retired?!" CIA
operative made
dramatic changes in his living arrangements just to
"help me deprogram." After
relocating across
the country, to a home in Arab, Alabama where I paid
all domestic expenses for the
three of us, a
large sum of money for traveling expenses for both he,
his girlfriend Cathy, and myself, and
a large 'consulting
fee,' this renegade CIA operative read my lengthy
journal entries daily for a year and a
half and agreed
that in his own words, "the memory work contains
absolute elements of fact laced with
verifiable
details." But one and one-half years, forty-two journals,
and $50,000+ traveling and living
expenses later,
Mark Phillips informed me that nothing had ever
happened to me ...nothing what-soever!
Cathy O'Brien said,
"Well, you should be happy that nothing happened
and that your children
have not been
abused!" I couldn't believe she was saying that, after
all the common details of our
histories we had
shared.
I was devastated
and went to bed and could not eat for three days and
remained
noncommunicative
and totally subdued for nearly a month afterwards.
After all this time of intensely
focused attention
on my history, Mark informed me that I had never even
been abused, and that I just
had a big
imagination. But, he had seemed to appreciate that I was
around to cover all of his expenses.
I suspect that Mark
is some kind of "containment agent" who is being
directed through his
"handlers" whose
motivations ultimately serve the New World Order.
Through his containment
expertise, the
information I have conveyed to you in this book you are
now reading was delayed in
reaching you by
nearly seven years. After I moved, I found out that
Mark had initially told Walter Bowart
(author of
Operation Mind Control and eyewitness to my use with Bob
Hope in Palm Springs) that I was
schizophrenic, and
since then, I have uncovered a string of lies he
told others in an attempt to discredit
me. I also
reconnected with another Kissinger survivor that Mark
Phillips had worked with for a time.
Mark Phillips told
her the same thing he told me - "THIS NEVER HAPPENED
TO YOU!" With my trust
294
shattered, Ted
Gunderson, Catherine Gould, Margaret Paul, Walter Bowart
and many others
supported me in
what I knew to be the truth of my life. I left that
home where I had paid all expenses for
Mark Phillips and
Cathy O'Brien and went to live in Carbondale,
Illinois. I had a slower pace there and
life was sweet
while the situation lasted. It was a time of rest and
recuperation as the final integration I
had achieved in
1996, solidified into even greater strength and
unification while I remained safe.
Baby Monarch
Breakdown
After a suicide
attempt and hospitalization in California, Kelly was
released to me and even went
to high school for
a short time in Carbondale. My heart was broken when
in June, after only being with
me for a few
months, she announced that she missed her Southern
California lifestyle and the rest of her
family, and told me
she was leaving. Due to her unrecovered, still
programmed state of mind, Kelly was
not free to make up
her own mind, and was often puppeted by our
controllers and the inner web of
programming that
dictated her actions. After she left, an opportunity
arose and I moved once again, this
time to South
Carolina in a quest to open a healing center. All the
while, I continued writing my sequel to
Starshine, the book
you are reading now.
Going to Carolina
to Open a Healing Center
Over the years of
my escape, Kelly's programming began to further break
down, partially due,
perhaps, to the
lack of contact with me. In turn a series of suicide
attempts landed her again in the
hospital. Twice I
flew to California and brought her back home with me.
During these intense times,
Kelly had lucid
moments where she told me she knew everything that had
happened. She talked to me
about white vans,
limos, being in London, hand signals, being sexually
abused, and made me promise I
would write about
the drugs and how the doctors drugged her, which she
told me was destroying her
brain. These
medical doctors felt my daughter was psychotic, because
they were unaware of her
programming. Kelly
thanked me in a card on Mother's Day (see photo
section) for her freedom, and as
we spent time
together she relayed more and more events that she
remembered, which validated my own
experiences
.
Knowing what a
crucial step it is for mind control victims to wear a
watch, I bought Kelly a new
watch. One day
while we were swimming in a nearby lake, Kelly looked me
right in the eye, took the
watch from her
wrist and purposefully dropped it into the lake. I
bought her several other watches and
she did the same
thing. She was not "allowed" to monitor the time and
her programming dictated that
she lose it,
quickly, before she got hurt for disobeying her program.
My move to South
Carolina to plan and coordinate a healing center for
mind control survivors fell
through but God was
not to disappoint me in my desire for the healing
center. Although I could not yet
see the perfection
of the Divine plan, I was soon to begin on a path
that would lead me to the creation of
a healing center
for survivors, a center furnished with the latest,
state-of-the-art technology, with the
capability of
bringing survivors into recovery and whole brain
synchrony in a more efficient and quicker
manner than my
years in 'talk therapy' ever could. The psychotherapy I
received, although helpful, didn't
touch or recognize
the powerful programming that ruled my every action,
and couldn't help me learn to
not dissociate. EEG
Neurofeedback helped me learn to not dissociate and
to be more present and
attentive.
By April of 1997,
Kelly was diagnosed Dissociative Identity Disorder
(DID) by two separate
therapists, one in
North Carolina and one in South Carolina. In
previous years, since 1988 I had
attempted to get
Kelly informed, qualified help in and out of
California, but her father denied her right to
see any therapist
who had any awareness of the one thing she needed in
order to heal. He interviewed
each therapist I
recommended, and if they had any knowledge of DID or
ritual abuse, he would not allow
her to see them.
But, once again I created a home and in my attempt to
help my daughter, I began
295
studying and
training to become a certified EEG Neurofeedback
Clinician. I bought an EEG machine
and began working
with Kelly at home. She responded well to the
neurotherapy, but was reaccessed and
soon became
completely catatonic.
But by the summer
of 1997, when my daughter's worsening condition
rendered her totally
catatonic and
non-responsive; unable to eat, drink, walk, talk, use the
bathroom or move, I was forced to
hospitalize her.
Luckily, I found a female psychiatrist who had read my
book, was familiar with MPD,
ritual abuse and
government mind control, and was willing to admit my
daughter to the hospital while
enacting the
security required to keep her safe. While she was
hospitalized, another recovered survivor
and I gave an
inservice training for the hospital staff. I also
completed further EEG Neurofeedback
training and opened
my own business.
One time when I
visited Kelly in the hospital, my car window was
smashed, my briefcase, mind
control literature
and the electronic equipment I used to speak
publicly was stolen. And to top it off, New
Year's Day, 1998,
the Holistic Health Care Clinic that housed my new
EEG Neurofeedback business and
the EEG Spectrum
equipment that I used to help victims and non-victims
alike, was totally destroyed by
fire. Although the
official fire department report was that the fire
was the result of faulty wiring, I felt the
fire was due to
arson. To validate my suspicions, and just in case I
forgot and needed "re-minding," two
bags of the ashes
from that fire were mysteriously delivered to my home.
Later in the year
when another Bob Hope survivor visited me, I had to
call the local police to
report a man who
was surveilling us late at night outside my home. And,
as recently as February 1999, as
I sent out the
initial copies of this manuscript, my phone lines to my
office were cut and I was tailed.
Each time I am
harassed, instead of silencing me, it spurs me into
greater action, and the result is
another radio
interview, another book or article, and more speaking
engagements. I still stay as public as
I can, speaking
publicly whenever I am asked, so I can continue to
share the truth.
This harassment
cannot and will not stop being used against victims
attempting to live free, until
this dark system of
mind control is exposed and brought to light.
"For if you forgive
men their trespasses, your heavenly Father also
will forgive you."
-- Matthew 5:14
"But I say to you
that hear, Love your enemies, do good to those who
hate you."
-- Luke 6:27
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Brice Taylor -
Thanks for the Memories, pp 272-274
Chapter
Thirty-five: Secret Societies
What's the Secret
Goal at the Top of Freemasonry?
Answer: A
Luciferian New World Order
Living in and
amongst those planning the New World Order as their
programmed mind file,
meticulously
recording their deeds and activities, has allowed me to be
here now to report their plan to
you. Their agenda
includes keeping the populations of the world under
control as they hold the key to
secret knowledge.
Knowledge is power. If you are uninformed as to their
secret agenda and especially of
their use of
advanced mind control technology in order to bring about
their plan, then you can't protect
yourself or begin
to work toward stopping this plan.
If there is any one
thing I could tell you about the inner workings of
the New World Order it's that
it is subtle,
organized and calculated. This plan has an agenda that
spans generations with obvious longterm
goals--as long term
as the intergenerational abuse pattern that was
passed down through my family
creating within our
generational line Multiple Personality Disorder.
And, I can tell you
that the New World Order plan serves a belief
system that is based on power
and control,
confusion, greed, and the use and manipulation of others,
most often without their consent.
The system's "cogs"
are well oiled and greased, and are interlaced and
protected by mens' secret societies
like the Masons,
who have at the pinnacle of their organization a
belief in secret knowledge. The Masonic
order is funded
from the bottom up by first through third degree
Masons, hoodwinked and mesmerized
into working for
the agenda of those members at the top-an agenda they
work "toward" knowing but
they aren't allowed
to know until they arrive at the top through oath
and initiation to possess the elusive
"secret knowledge."
Found in Morals and
Dogma, the cornerstone of every higher Mason's
library, in the 32°d Chapter
(Sublime Prince of
the Royal Secret) are subtle hints of the character
of this 'secret knowledge,'
specifically geared
toward the 32°d Degree Mason (Master of the
Royal Secret). Here, in the guise of
acknowledging a
Universal Equilibrium between good and evil, as the
natural balance and harmony of
earthly existence,
it promotes the acceptance of the belief that evil
actions are a necessary counterbalance
to good ones and
asks the aspirant to accept this dichotomy in human
affairs. From this sublime
seed of half-truth,
evil is allowed flourish within the protective
secrecy of the organization.
To gain this
knowledge, a man must go through a series of Luciferian
initiations and, as he
progresses toward
the top, he finds that he is trapped into keeping the
secret, through threat of
consequences,
including death. Once gaining the upper levels, he
believes that he or his family will be
killed if he should
ever divulge the secret knowledge. This initation
where he is ultimately compromised
involves blood
ritual and rape. Now many of these men have had to "sell
their soul to the devil," taking
an oath through
satanic ritual to serve and protect their fellow lodge
brother regardless of the deeds
done in order to
accomplish that. Through the secret handshakes and
signals they give to each other,
they alert one
another to the needs of a brother and thereby this
fellow member who may be in court for
charges of criminal
activity, or apprehended by the police for breaking
the law, is protected by his
"brother." It may
be a judge, who when a case is presented before him,
sees a brother in trouble, and
looks the other
direction, allowing the lodge brother to go free or
with light sentencing. Or, it may be an
attorney who finds
himself unable through the court system to really
"defend" his client, as he secretly
serves the system
in which he is oath bound. Often in court cases
throughout the legal system, children
who are sexually or
physically abused are sent back to live with a
perpetrating parent while the other
parent seeking
protection of their child is sent away, alone and
powerless to do anything to protect their
297
child. All this
happens because a judge or an attorney is part of an
organization that has at its very
foundation,
protection of its members, right or wrong, and sometimes
protection at all costs.
Are you aware that
many of our Presidents have been Masons? In fact,
the majority have. This
means that they
have taken an oath to serve their organization and the
brothers who belong, without
question, even
above and beyond God and country. Instead of justice we
have camaraderie. Instead of
protecting
citizens, especially our youngest ones, we have a system of
individuals who serve each other,
blindly I might
add, without question of right or wrong, good or bad,
without consideration for the
Constitution and
the high spiritual ideals set forth for our country.
We have instead a "boys club," where
many men join in
order to belong, to be a part of a group that they may
believe furthers civic interest,
financial gain, and
offers security.
Our nation is
undermined by this group that operates in the dark,
shrouded by secrecy and
serving to protect
their fellow lodge members above all else-including
truth and justice. A man cannot
serve the Lodge and
at the same time serve God, for the good Lord calls
us to love one another, to uphold
one another, to
love and serve our fellow humans, to protect and love
the children, and cause no harm.
This Masonic Order,
this secret men's society, as harmless as it may
seem to it's members teeming at the
bottom, demands an
oath to allegiance over truth, brotherhood over
justice, and it often serves a need to
protect a man's
financial assets. There is no way a man can choose
God's values when he is bound by an
oath to protect and
defend his fellow lodge member without question.
Even if a first-degree lodge
member doesn't find
himself "called upon" to protect a brother, he is
still serving a master at the top of
the pinnacle,
without knowledge of what the top directors-the
32°d and 33rd Degree Masons--are doing.
Yet these worker
bees at the bottom fuel the deeds and goals of those
brothers at the top, who possess
the secret
knowledge, and use that secret knowledge. I can tell you
from personal experience of being
there, that it is
not of God but is evil in nature. It seeks control
for power and ultimately it wreaks havoc
and destruction
upon the innocents that may be in its path.
A man cannot serve
two masters. Those who are Masons are taught secret
handshakes and hand
signals that pass
secretly between members without outsiders' knowledge
that a subversive agenda is
occurring, right
there before the public's eyes. This secret
communication between lodge brothers
guarantees that the
members are protected. But I guarantee you that
unless a brother rises through the
ranks, he won't
find out that what he is supporting at the top of the
organization he has sworn allegiance
to, is the highest
evil known to man. To possess this secret knowledge,
men allow their morality and
conscience to be
stripped away; they have to, because the secret
knowledge has to do with bringing in the
New World Order
through atrocity that comes with power and control,
certainly not love and service. It
is pure evil,
shrouded in secrecy, and masked as a service
organization. It's quite the opposite, as the
many emerging
victims of satanic rituals at the hands of high-ranking
Masons and Shriners will attest to.
If you are
currently a Mason, you may want to know that the secret
knowledge at the top of your
organization
entails the ritualized abuse of young women who are raped
on an altar as part of an
initiation process.
I know because I was there. It happened to me. I
was taken to outdoor places in the
50's and 60's and
subjected to satanic rituals performed by various
men's fraternal societies, including
the Masons and
Shriners. I have also known and listened to other women
who were healing from this
mind control abuse,
whose father's were Masons and through that
affiliation came to be young members
of Job's Daughters
or the Eastern Star, and were healing from the mind
control abuse they suffered in
secret.
"For this reason I
bow my knees before the Father, from whom every
family in heaven and on
earth is named,
that according to the riches of his glory he may grant
you to be strengthened with might
through his Spirit
in the inner man, and that Christ may dwell in your
hearts through faith; that you,
being rooted and
grounded in love, may have the power to comprehend
with all the saints what is the
298
breadth and length
and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ
which surpasses knowledge,
that you may be
filled with all the fullness of God." -- Ephesians 3:14
299
Brice Taylor -
Thanks for the Memories
Chapter Thirty-six:
The Council’s Plan
I began passing
messages to and from the Council early on, and in those
days my use at that level
had to be earned.
On an occasion where I was sent to deliver messages
adroitly to a group of men aboard
a ferry in Canada,
my reliability and security was finally proven.
After the debriefing from that trip,
Henry learned where
and how this group would covertly funnel funds into
Canada. He clapped, shook
my hand and said,
"Congratulations, you've passed this level!"
I didn't
'officially' begin working for the Council until I was 'of
age' in 1969, when I turned 18. Up
until then, as I've
stated, they were very cautious, watching and
testing me from a distance as I
functioned at the
White House and in other private settings where one
of their contacts could report
back to them my
progress. My involvement with them increased over the
years as they witnessed my
reliability. I
never violated that trust, couldn't think to, and worked
amongst them for many years.
Henry was the
Council's mastermind and I was his other brain so he
could keep the whole plan,
and everyone
involved, straight and organized.
One day, a group of
powerful men met in a room in the Wrigley Mansion
high atop the hill in
Avalon on Catalina
Island. I was there supposedly to serve the men
beverages and light snacks on silver
platters. Hours
before the meeting I was kept in isolation in a side
room. Two men in suits injected my
arm with drugs and
I was readied, like always, before use. I was
dressed in a very expensive white eyelet,
embroidered cotton
dress that was provided for me to wear. One man that
stands out was a tall man in a
dark pinstriped
suit. He had thick white hair and sometimes wore
glasses. He was often at these Wrigley
meetings. The
meetings seemed very important and secretive.
Afterwards, I had
sex with different men I was assigned to. I met with
them on private yachts or
rooms in the
Wrigley Mansion. Some of them were possessive of my time
and didn't realize who I was;
they thought I was
just a maid I guess. Some even tried to bribe me
with money, jewelry or trips.
Jeff Foltz, Craig's
best friend and USC oral surgeon, went with us, on
occasion, to Catalina when
these meetings were
being held. Craig and I sailed over with Jeff and
his wife or flew on seaplanes. Jeff
cued me to
different places at the Wrigley Mansion and other sites on
Catalina Island. Consciously it
seemed that we were
just touring the Mansion with friends, but at
certain areas Jeff would say certain
words and press my
hand in the middle and say a word or two and then we
would walk on. I was a robot
and he talked to me
like I was retarded. I followed closely behind Jeff
as he walked us through the
Wrigley Estate. It
seems like this was done to keep me from consciously
remembering being there at the
Estate later on.
Jeff took me into rooms that were all beautifully
decorated in pastels. He held my hand,
despite the fact
that Lisa, his wife, was there. No one really spoke
and I felt like a very small child being
taken around by an
adult. Of course, at the time my conscious
personality wasn't present, so I was not
aware of these
events. Later, on this same trip, I went to meetings to
assist. At times, Henry was there.
He wasn't in office
at the time but to him that only meant he "could do
more with his hands less
encumbered," at
least that's what he said.
During my use as a
tool to coordinate liaisons between the Council and
the President, when a
President was flown
places, like aboard large military aircraft, I was
briefed and sent along so that I
could apprise him
of situations or 'key' reasons for his being in
certain locations. For example, if the
Council deemed it
necessary to control the attitudes of a certain
branch of the military in order to have
their 'full
cooperation' in a strategic military position or
assignment, they would brief me in the complete
attitude required.
They would supply me with the correct words for
whomever (President, Vice-
President, Bob
Hope, etc.) was delivering the speech to the troops.
Then the troops would respond
300
favorably because
their programming would be reinforced, creating the
desired effect - that is - their
full obedience and
cooperation.
I accompanied
Nixon, Reagan, Ford, Bush and others in these ways,
bringing them information
from the Council.
Later, I was debriefed about the results of my time
with the President. I also reported
what the skillfully
trained parts of me carefully recorded during the
entire 'action,' including reporting
back what the
President said, how it was received by the audience and
any messages the President
wanted to send back
to the Council.
As I explained
before, the Council is made up of a secret and powerful
group of men who are not
public and meet in
the shadows. Their true power and ability to rule
over the masses comes from the fact
that they are
publicly unknown. They exist in their own environments,
with little outside contact. But
they have many
highly tested, tried and true programmed or aligned
individuals who go out and do their
work, bringing back
the information they need, making the contacts
necessary to insure the success of
their mighty plan
for world domination. They have the power to insure
the election of a President, to
bring a celebrity
to fame, to decide the fate of a nation, to bring
about war, to incite riot, to bring down
whole cities or
countries, to kill out a certain ethnic race, to
introduce a new chemical into the food of the
masses for control,
to loose upon a community a new virus, to decide
which people are to live and which
are to die. They
gave direction to people like Ronald Reagan, George
Bush, Henry Kissinger and the
Rockefeller's, but
they are not ignorant enough to allow a public
identity to make them vulnerable to any
kind of
investigation or public knowledge of their lives and their
purpose. They seek people out in their
own time; people
don't contact them. Sometimes the contact comes in the
form of another person
slipping a message
in or telling someone to be at a certain place at a
specified time, but their
whereabouts is not
ever known. And to report this to you, I had to
dismantle lots of death programming
that was installed
in an attempt to keep me from remembering any of
this.
Geneva
There were times
when the Council met in Geneva and I was taken there
so they could send
information and
messages, via my mind files, to people who weren't
supposed to be publicly connected
with them. All this
cross communication was sent safely through me and
no one would have suspected
who I was or what
type of secret information I contained. Henry usually
put the information in my head
and sent me in with
instructions - usually amusing ones - to the men at
the meetings in Geneva and
other places. These
men don't just want to control the world; they
already do that to a certain extent.
The rules the
Council had between its contacts was that they were never
to have physical contact,
or talk by
telephone. They decided where a message would be posted, via
cryptic codes that only they
understood, and
often placed them in a certain section of the
newspaper. Like for instance, they would
weave the place and
time of a meeting into the business investment
section if one had to be called on
short notice.
Otherwise meetings were set up ahead of time and there
was no contact in between. In
cases of emergency
or crisis they could use someone like me to deliver
secretly coded messages. The men
they are networked
into are some of the most powerful businessmen in
the world - steel magnates,
furriers, oil and
gas company owners, telephone company owners, media
owners, munitions makers,
among others - and
their business dealings are highly illegal. They
break all the rules and laws set up to
protect small
businesses from monopolies. They create huge monopolies.
They control the world through
the economy. Most
people who opposed them didn't have a chance. They
simply ran them out of
business, got them
prosecuted legally, or manipulated them in any way
that was successful to insure they
maintained total
control.
Secret Rendezvous
in the Pacific
301
During the late
70's and early 80's the Council often met out in the
middle of the ocean,
aboard yachts,
where they could all come together anonymously. They
sailed or motored around until
they connected with
each member. They navigated to precise areas where
a yacht would be waiting.
Everyone had to be
expert navigators and Craig's dental friend, Jeff,
was just that. He constantly read a
complex nautical
map with special tools and combined that information
with the placement of the stars
in the sky in order
to deliver me to a preplanned destination. He had
to navigate to different places
around the Channel
Islands to areas we were supposed to go to. I was
usually the first to be picked up by
the yacht the
Council was to meet on, because I was the least important
and they didn't want to waste
these important
men's time. The captain pulled us in close,
side-by-side, and the member aboard the
other yacht would
leave his yacht and come aboard. Each man was picked
up in this way. There were
usually three or
four rendezvous after they picked me up. The men never
arrived on the same yachts but
used different
vessels and crews so as not to ever be identified. Once
every member was picked up they
met in the largest
room on board ship, and I was brought in to sit at
the table during certain junctures
when they wanted to
send a message back to the President, foreign
leaders, etc. This way later, I just
delivered the
message to whomever they directed me, usually during sex,
and so everything remained
anonymous.
Reagan was a big
receiver of messages during his presidency. I was kept
very busy delivering to
him and he
'followed' orders to a 'T.' The group was "very pleased with
his performance," were the words
they used. Pete
Wilson was the same way and so was George Bush. Anyway,
the Council met on board
yachts, had
meetings, and then were navigated back to planned areas.
They never met in the same place
twice and
everything was done with precision. That was one of their
favorite words -"PRECISION"- and
they always had the
very best of everything. They even had "the
chessboard" on board. They showed me
one move each time
and I was instructed to watch VERY CAREFULLY because
there was no room for a
mistake. Later I
delivered the move on the chess board to Henry in New
York. The chess move was
ALWAYS taken back
to Henry.
Disguises To
Protect Kissinger
Henry literally
built me so I could be a safe arm to reach out and
touch the Council. I flew to New
York regularly in
the 70's and 80's. Just a quick trip to deliver the
information to Henry. He had various
and sundry
disguises for me that he used to protect himself. A man in a
suit always picked me up at the
airport in a limo
and gave me a bag. I knew to go to the restroom and
change into everything in the bag,
which included
clothes, shoes, wig, teeth overlays, make up, purse,
everything I needed was there. Craig
had made me several
sets of maxillary and mandibular overlays that I
could just snap onto my teeth. I
looked totally
different and the switch was to be total and complete
when I looked at my image in the
mirror. "Become the
image," Henry told me. So I changed my face, my
voice, my walk; everything I was
told to alter, in
order to fit the image. I took the bag filled with my
clothes back to the man in the limo
and he put it in
the front seat next to him and escorted me into the
backseat. After I switched
personalities and
dress, he closed the glass window between the seats
and never had conversation with
me from that time
on. He let me out at Henry's office, which was a
large, older, very cultured building
and someone
escorted me right to Henry's office.
I sat down in an
upholstered chair across from Henry's dark wooden
desk. He snapped his fingers
and ran his hand
before my face to ready me for debriefing. I told him
what the Council advised and the
final message was
the Chess move. He was very anxious to get that and
always had me double-check the
information so
there wouldn't be any miscommunication. I was programmed
that it wasn't possible for
me to ever make a
mistake.
After I delivered
the information to Henry, he walked me to the door
and gave me a small piece of
folded paper to
give the driver. I think it may have had my airline
instructions on it or something. For
some reason I never
flew with a round trip ticket, and always had the
return flight booked under a
302
different name than
the one I used on the initial leg of the trip. The
driver gave me the special bag
that now had all my
original clothes in it, and I would go back into
the public restroom and change. Then
he took me back to
the airport in New York and I'd fly to LAX. Usually
my Mom or Craig would pick me
up. It was a long
trip but didn't seem like it because I was programmed
to sleep. They were always proud
that the precision
was so good that I could be back within 24 hours or
less. Somehow they 'folded' that
amount of time and
I never missed it. My assignments often began or
culminated on Friday or Saturday
night but usually I
was home by Saturday. These meetings with Henry
usually took place at the end of
the work week. He
liked to have the information delivered to him at
that time because he would have the
weekend to mull it
over, undisturbed and uninterrupted by any other
business. He said, "That's the
secret to my
success-FOCUS," then he would smile and take a cigar out
of a case on the table. He also
had a separate
apartment away from home where he did his best thinking
and strategizing. I met with
him there, also,
but always had to do the disguise routine before I met
him anywhere.
When I returned
home I was programmed to have cheese Danish to
're-mind' me to forget. Even
when I was having
therapy sessions with Stuart Perlman, I was
programmed to have cheese Danish on
the mornings I had
therapy sessions with Stuart by phone. I was also
cleverly programmed to misdial
Stuart's phone
number by one number. Every time I dialed his number I
would get frustrated and
wonder why I kept
dialing the wrong number, and every time it was the
same wrong number I dialed. My
controllers had me
dialing a number that contained a code to remind me
to maintain security. During
this period, I
often met with Henry or others, so the Danish was the
'icing on the cake,' and served to
make sure I didn't
ever remember. I was still meeting with Henry when I
was in therapy with both Stuart
and Margie. My
controllers told me they were trying to shore me up so I
would make it to the end of my
job in the year
2000.
Jaws
My job was to be
over in the year 2000, and programmed parts of me were
told that I was to be
shot in the head
and dropped overboard out in the middle of the Pacific
where no one would ever miss
me, including the
sharks. In order to impress me, they made me watch
shark-feeding frenzies. One time
after Craig and I
returned from a long weekend sail and scuba diving
trip, another dentist friend of ours
came over and said,
"You weren't scuba diving in the Channel Islands
this weekend, were you? They were
having shark
contests and were chumming the whole area!"
Shark themes were
used heavily, and I was continually reminded by the
Shark diver's wristwatch
that I was given to
wear.
My job as a
go-between from the Council to others was my most important
task. Bob was 'my
owner' and Henry
masterminded their plan, but the Council always called
the ultimate shots. They said I
was theirs until,
"the end of time," and that time for me was supposed
to be the year 2000. Then they
said I could sleep
with the fishes. Deep inside I couldn't wait until
it was over.
Although the
Council didn't ever meet on the same yachts, when they did
meet, there often was an
aquarium on board
with sharks in it that was used to remind me what
would happen if I stepped out of
line. Craig and I
had previously been directed to the big theatre with
the stars on the ceiling on Catalina
Island to watch
James Bond movies. I constantly gazed upward at those
stars per programmed
instructions to,
"look at the stars to be safe and forget."
I also was made to
watch while a man in a suit threw an attendant into
the shark aquarium when
it was feeding
time. He said to the man, "You wouldn't mind standing in
for the fish this morning so this
young lady can see
what her fate is if she steps out of line?" The
attendant looked at him quizzically and
then the suited man
threw him into the tank and quickly poured a pan of
fish and blood all over the poor
man in the water.
The sharks went right for him. He screamed and
flailed his arms but it didn't last long.
303
It was horrific and
terrifying. The suited man looked me in the eye,
and in a very quiet, soothing tone
of voice said,
"There, see what happens if you step out of line?"
"Yes, I see," I
agreed, wholeheartedly.
This type of life
and death terror tactic is enough to dissociate a
person for a very long time,
especially if they
are under mind control. This shark theme ran
throughout my victimization. After my
children were born,
we were at a theme park and all donned wet suits to
swim with the fish; some were
even small sharks.
Danny and Kevin were even given small rubber sharks
in order to remember the
experience. The
message was always the same, "Step out of line, you
will be fed to the sharks." By now
they probably only
need to use virtual reality traumas.
Kauai Central
Location
I was relocated on
Kauai because it was a remote area with easier
access to me, unencumbered by
my family. It was a
two-year phase. Then they didn't have to coordinate
things so carefully between us
all. I was free to
go on their assignments and I was used heavily. They
flew me to New York, England,
South of France,
Italy (Rome), the Netherlands, even Catalina and the
Channel Islands, except now I was
helicoptered to the
yachts and tethered in on a chair. Often it was a
two-seater helicopter, the 'glass
bubble' type. The
helicopter pilot seemed connected to the yacht as
they radioed to coordinate the
rendezvous with
precision. When I lived on Kauai I was taken directly
from the meetings of the Council
to Henry, going
through the whole disguise bit, and then returned to
the island. I was usually gone two
days (48 hours) or
less, and when I returned I slept a lot because I
had been without sleep or food and
the time difference
caused jet lag. Although, they tried everything to
nullify the jet lag so I could, as they
called it,
"re-emerge into my life without stress or strain."
While I was on
Kauai I even was reunited with Kelly (who still lived in
California with her father)
in England and
France to "sexulate" some members in the royal family
and a violent leader in France.
Kelly has
personalities that speak French, also. It was necessary for
both of us to know French in order to
communicate with
this man. Kelly was trained to step into my shoes in
the year 2000 and take over and I
was supposed to
give her a diamond ring to make this an initiation.
Further Council
Adventures
I was programmed
with personalities to emulate Jackie Kennedy's charm
and dignity. Aristotle
Onassis was a
powerful arm of the Council, with the ability to move
business holdings around. The
Council poured
money into these businesses and used people like Onassis
as a front, since they had to
remain anonymous.
That was how they used a lot of business tycoons. The
men who operated
independently were
the most ideal since they could maneuver without the
oversight of a large
corporation or
business partners. Some of the richest entrepreneurs in
the world were used this way and
I was sent into
them to have sex and deliver Council messages. I met
with many of these men in the open
seas on yachts for
anonymity and security.
I also was
rendezvoused with Reagan and Bush out in the middle of the
Pacific during Reagan's
Presidency. They
were on separate yachts, and met with me during a
three-day sailing trip with the
Foltz's. Jeff Foltz
secretly brought the drugs necessary for my use on
board the sailing vessel we rented
for sailing trips.
Ile also brought electronic equipment, including a
black box with wires that he hooked
us up to; all three
of us, his wife, my husband and myself, for
programming. This happened before and
after I was used.
He probably got his 'tune up' before the sail.
The Council worked
Reagan and Bush a lot, giving them instructions.
Reagan went along blindly
while Bush seemed
to know more but not as much as Henry. I always slept
with Reagan on the yacht he
was on and then
delivered the message to him. I was delivered to Reagan
and Bush as Jeff navigated to a
precise destination
and when we came alongside their vessel I crossed
'over the rainbow' as I came on
board. Sometimes I
spent the entire night sleeping with Reagan after I
had delivered the message
304
because, he said he
would, "prefer company while out in the middle of
the lonely Pacific." So I stayed,
and the next
morning Jeff came back and picked me up and transferred me
back.
As soon as I got on
board, Jeff immediately stun gunned me in the back.
My husband and Jeff's
wife stayed down in
the kitchen until Jeff finished with me, which
meant drugs and the use of the black
box. In later
years, instead of an injection, the drug was a circular,
oral wafer, like a small water chestnut.
Then Jeff would
announce to our spouses, "Time for lunch!" and they
would start preparing lunch. After
we ate, I would go
take a very long nap or lay out on the deck and
sleep while we sailed to our next
destination. We
often moored for the night in three separate areas; all
strategically mapped and
navigated so I
would be in place for the rendezvous. I always felt so
out of it after these events and
consciously felt
embarrassed that I was too tired or couldn't think to
communicate with our friends. Now
I know why.
Certain members of
the American Dental Association have been heavily
involved in this project
and many of the
people from USC Dental School that Craig knew. Uncle
Charlie made Craig's way into
USC, because Craig
needed to be part of the project so he and Jeff
could be "prepared," to ready me for
use at the highest
levels with the Council. The Council stepped up
their plans beginning in 1980 and on
into the 90's. Then
it was supposed to be "clear sailing," as their
plans snowballed and they began
reaping what had
been earlier sown. Until in the year 2000, when they
would be able to cinch the purse
strings shut, thus,
being totally in charge of everything worldwide.
But things didn't go exactly according
to plan, especially
regarding my situation.
The Frontiers of
the Mind
They began to
target more heavily, and more often, people that had been
put in place over the
years. They were
bombarding them, certain individuals more heavily than
others, depending on their
usefulness and
power potential. People like Onassis, Iacocca and the
Rockefellers who were part of 'level
two,' and others.
Anyone who made big money was targeted. The Council
was apprised of the wealthy,
and people like
Henry went to great lengths to strategize how those
with wealth could be brought into
their game for the
highest effect or benefit to the cause. The Council
saw this as a huge game to attain
total and absolute
power by the dawning of the next century-the Age of
Aquarius. As an Aquarian I was
told I was
heralding the advancement of the planet-the global
transformation to a new way of life
through advanced
technologies.
They plan to
"market" the mind/brain technologies they themselves have
been using for decades,
to the general
public, and are doing so already. This will allow them
to make mega money in this new
market as well as
allow them to begin to educate the masses in regard
to the new technologies of the
mind, "The
Frontiers of the Mind." But, while the public is spending
vast sums of money on this new
technology, they
will also be conditioned through advanced forms of
electronics, harmonics, and
subliminal
conditioning to accept this shift to a 'new existence.' The
Council plans are to have a robotical
working class that
won't cause any problems, but will simply work to
supply the needs of the Elite-those
who by their
breeding and intellect are deemed worthy of being allowed
to be "awake" so they can rule,
live and create
without any interference from the common man. They say
that the working class already
makes non-thinking
robots of their own everyday lives, and it might as
well be more planned and
regulated so that
others who want to create, invent, and otherwise use
their minds, can do so without
hindrance from the
common man.
They view the
"common man" with great disdain as a lower form of the
human species. And they
figure that by the
time the year 2000 rolls around, when the purse
cinches shut, and they are in full
control, that
people will already be sufficiently conditioned and won't
even be able to think to figure out
or even be aware
that a change has taken place. They see it as the
perfect cover up for the continuation of
the experiments in
mind control they have participated in and feel very
assured that the public will never
305
be able to discover
what happened because the more intelligent pubic
has been sufficiently "tamed"
and conditioned to
go along with the rest of the herd.
Society is being
weeded out right now, as minority species are being
eliminated very specifically
by biological germ
warfare and other tactics meant to insure the
elimination of those less genetically
favorable. They
figure with the reduction of the population there will
be sufficient natural resources for
the working class
robots to support the genetically astute
intellectuals who will be in power. Then, this is
supposed to lead
into a new age of peace. They even unleashed New Age
principles to target and control
the groups of
people they previously programmed while they continued
developing the mind control
technology, in
order to maintain control until the year 2000 when,
supposedly, no one would be able to
think to question
or cause problems.
Our food is being
tampered with, by the insertion of food additives and
substances like aspartame
which can alter
brain chemistry and affect our minds. Music and movies
are another powerful tool used
to condition the
masses. The Council views these measures as the kind,
humane way to handle this
matter, instead of
a direct violent takeover, which would just cause
even more chaos and human
suffering. They
envisioned that, this way, there would be no dissent
and after the takeover there will be
no need for wars,
ever again. These men don't believe in wars, but
needed to use them to achieve their
goals. As they see
it, the rest of the species will be living in
harmony, able to create and enjoy while the
lower, now
robotical, forms of the human species do all the grunt work
they are accustomed to: common
labor, food
production, and life maintenance for the higher forms of
human species, the intellectuals,
those who matter
and are deemed eligible to be awake.
The Master Plan is
Accomplished by Robots
There has been a
master plan for years and many, including myself, were
involuntarily enlisted to
work for it, as Dr.
Henry Kissinger, 'Mr. Global Internationalist,'
masterminded much of their plan. My
controllers viewed
anyone with a small intellect as 'non-existing'
anyway, so they will either be weeded
out or retained on
the mind-controlled work force that's already been
created. Masses of daycare centers
were targeted to
insure the success of the takeover, where large
numbers of children from normal
families were
programmed because they will be the ones who will be of
the age to resist or fight the
Council plan. But
now, many won't be able to because their minds have
been manipulated and
conditioned during
childhood, so they will go along with the global
program. It is all a carefully laid out
plan that has
spanned decades and generations, with one generation
handing down to the next their
inheritance. The
children of the elite families, such as the
Rockefeller's and Kennedy's will inherit a
guaranteed future
on a planet that can survive due to the fact that the
population and, in turn, pollution,
food supplies, etc.
will be totally controlled. These intellectual,
genetically 'worthy' individuals plan to
have their own
guaranteed 'utopian dreamworld' after they kill off the
inferior human species that they
believe are
overcrowding a planet that cannot support us all. The
Council feels that they are insuring the
future of the
species of mankind by what they are doing. And, those
from intergenerational ritually
abused families and
others will be placed under total mind control, to
become the planetary 'workforce'
so the elite
doesn't have to waste their precious time on menial labor.
The Council feels everyone 'wins'
this way because it
puts the non-thinking and genetically inferior
populations "out of their misery," by
taking their minds
away, and insures a glorious future for the
brightest intellects on earth. To them
intellect is
everything and without it, they think people shouldn't be
allowed to waste precious time on
earth, taking up
space for those who can and will use their brains to
create. They view this as a massive
genetic clean up.
Then, when their
agenda has been met, the world will be free from
ignorance and chaos.
According to their
reasoning, there will be no abortion issue because
the genetically intelligent won't
bear children by
accident. There will be no wars because they won't
have a need to use wars to
manipulate people
for power or money. There will be no famines because
there will be plenty of food
306
grown naturally by
the robot class and the world will no longer be
overpopulated. Then, they can
bring in their new
form of world government and there won't be fighting
or resistance because the Elite
will see eye-to-eye
and will all benefit, and are intellectually
capable of understanding how they can all
work together for
the benefit of themselves. Crime will cease since the
commoners, 'the robots' won't be
able to think to
commit acts of violence or any other forms of crime.
The Elite think of themselves as
intellectually
above petty crime and will have no necessity of it since
they will be getting their needs met,
royally, by all of
their mind-controlled 'worker-bees.' No more disease
will be brought in by the
'unwashed' lower
classes. So there will be less disease all-around
because the Elite will take immaculate
care of their
bodies and won't have to deal with the stress and strain
created by the problems of today.
These will have
been eliminated by eliminating the source of these
problems-the genetically deficient.
The Council has
guaranteed survival and freedom for those at the top.
What they have done to the
human species in
this Twentieth Century is tragic and they justify it
by the rationale that they are
protecting the
future of the human species by insuring that only the
best specimens survive.
The Council took a
serious stand to clean up the environment as it
served their needs for a
healthy,
pollution-free, life-sustaining environment for their future
progeny. Since they have access to, as
well as direct,
major new discoveries in advanced technologies, they
have disdain for the uneducated,
ignorant, common
people who trash their own environment. They said that
even animals knew better
than to defecate in
their own sleeping area. But this would be remedied
in the future when the
genetically
deficient were weeded out and extinguished.
They also were very
condescending to those individuals who didn't eat
properly or exercise. They
take immaculate
care of their bodies as far as health goes. They are
fit and trim and they use natural
medicines. The
American Medical Association is fashioned to prescribe
drugs and perform various
treatments that
although they may be unsuspecting, tend to weed out the
weaker species. The Council
views the AMA's
'modern medicine' as barbaric. Their plans are to have
mind-enhanced health
associates, like
some of the USC medical and dental graduates, who will
provide the new health care for
the Elite, after
the takeover. Precision surgery with laser technology
will make the so-called "modern
methods" of surgery
obsolete. Miracle medicines and herbs (God's
pharmacy) will keep the body healthy.
An understanding of
the way the electro-molecular energy field around
the body operates will allow the
healthy body to be
kept in perfect alignment creating perpetual perfect
health or it can be brought back
into alignment
easily with the use of high-tech field variation
equipment. This will be the modern
medicine of the
future and upcoming doctors will be trained in these
methods in order to further the
evolution of the
Elite. The Elite plan to enjoy total and complete
health due to their technology in
electromagnetic
fields. They also have antibodies against the diseases
they let loose and make sure they
are protected. Of
course all of these findings came about by research
and experiments on unsuspecting
groups of people.
The health care
program they were attempting to implement in the United
States was one they
were hoping would
though so that the lower class robots would have a
health care system to serve their
needs in the
future, while allowing the government, the Council and
those involved in the global takeover
to remain in
control. As you can see, it is a system designed for
control. It is all about further
conditioning the
populace so that there won't be any drastic changes
that would cause stress to the
nation or upset the
apple cart.
They believe they
have learned what form of government would work best
by installing different
varieties of
governments in different countries with leaders they
chose, studied, and watched to see
which form would be
likely to meet their needs in the year 2000 and
beyond. They saw different national
governments as
'projects.' For awhile, they thought communism would be
the best, until the mind
control technology
showed them they could covertly rule the masses
without communism. With this
technology, they
believe they can rule the masses easily and
effortlessly, and governing can be limited
because they feel
all of the Elite will have much the same wants,
needs, and goals. They already have the
307
central banking
system in place and have a master plan for the laws,
rules, and regulations that will
govern those that
are left.
Sons of the Elite
are conditioned to be leaders in the New World.
Robotic mind control won't be
necessary for their
compliance. They have been conditioned to accept
this new agenda without being
given all the
information and will be allowed to be "free thinkers,"
unless they don't follow directions.
The Elite are used
to having servants so this overall concept is not
especially different for them because
they have been
brought up to believe that they are born privileged, are
of a superior genetic strain and
have a
responsibility to lead. I was used, under mind control, to
further many of these attitudes with the
sons of many world
figures. It was just a matter of conditioning them
with the beliefs, a little at a time,
which would support
the changeover. The egos of these young men have
been very carefully created and
conditioned. Prince
Charles' boys are possibly doomed to the same form
of conditioning.
The Council sees
this as a planetary enhancement, with the globe
entering a time of health, new
excitement, and
abundance for those deemed capable of making a
difference in the future of the human
species.
"And I saw an new
heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven and the
first earth had passed
away; and the sea
was no more. And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem,
coming down from God,
prepared as a bride
adorned for her husband. And I heard a great voice
from heaven saying, Behold, the
tabernacle of God
is with men, and he will dwell with them, and they
shall be his people, and the very
God shall be with
them and be their God; And he shall wipe away all
tears from their eyes; and there
shall be no more
death, neither sorrow nor wailing, neither shall there
be anymore pain; for the former
things have passed
away. And he who sat upon the throne said, Behold, I
make all things new. Then he
said to me, Write;
for these are the trustworthy and true words of God.
And he said to me, I am the alpha
and the omega, the
beginning and the end. I will freely give of the
fountain of living water to him who is
thirsty. He who
overcomes shall inherit these things; and I will be his
God, and be shall be my son." --
Revelation 21:1-7
308
Brice Taylor -
Thanks for the Memories, pp 285-292
Chapter
Thirty-seven: What the World Needs Now
What Now? We Are
Called To Love
And so for many,
many years, Henry Kissinger and Bob Hope strategically
placed me and
members of my
family in locations to further their interests. During
those times, my children and I were
used in various
ways and prostituted to more worldly-affluent, famous,
publicly adored leaders and
entertainers than I
care to remember. Personally, I would like to stay
in denial and believe this never
could have
happened. But for the interests of many, I cannot afford to
believe anything less than what I
have discovered is
the truth. I have chosen to share a fragment of
these experiences with you so that you
could know the
level of technology that has been developed and to show
you the danger of the ways those
who carry a belief
of power and control, and who at this time are out
of alignment with their true
spiritual nature,
have misappropriated their duties to our nation and
to the world.
Spiritually I have
grown to realize that while the worldly Elite's
positions are often determined by
heredity, and in
the business world nobility comes from ability,
ambition, or success; in the eyes of God,
nobility comes from
those who serve others. Through all of my
experiences at the hands of leaders from
all over the world,
I have learned that to be a true leader is to know
your stewardship to those you serve,
not to gobble and
hoard the benefits for self while fooling and robbing
those who count on you, who elect
and trust you to
serve the good of the whole. I also know now that
truly great leaders are humble and
their joy comes
from the glorious privilege of serving others.
And I will tell
you, as would my precious daughter Kelly if she could,
that the current leadership
under President
Clinton is no different than the ones before. Indeed
Kelly could start up the next chapter
on William Clinton
and could tell you the size of his genitals, the
perverted ways he chooses to utilize his
sexuality and how
he, like many of the Presidents before him, is locked
into the bondage of a power
hungry system that
will continue with each new President after him,
unless this system is dismantled
and a new system of
governing, one based on the needs of the people, a
true republic, born of God, for
the good of the
whole, is reinstated. But it will take each of us, all
those who the Elitists feel have no
intellect and no
motivation, to stand up and speak out for what we
believe in---perhaps even sharing our
'simple minds and
spiritual natures' with those who for years have felt
the right and the need to lord over
us. For, once
society has seen the problem, the solution is in sight.
I believe each
individual is imbued with a gift from God to contribute
to society as a whole and as
each individual
finds their true purpose and joins in, contributing
that gift, we will then have a fullbodied,
rich orchestration
of individuals, evolving to the highest possible
levels. That is when we as a
society reach a
more perfect state!
I also learned that
freedom is not free and we must now stand in the
battle, not through violence
and war, but
through knowledge, truth, and love, claiming our true
spiritual power and willing to take a
stand so our voices
can be heard!
Healing
Healing
spiritually, through a life such as mine, has been my ultimate
challenge, and God has
continued to keep
my focus on this healing aspect, despite worldly
opinion, which would lead me to seek
in other
directions. During the years of pain and suffering that led me
out of mind control bondage,
Margie Paul shared
with me the following passage, by Emmet Fox, which I
read constantly. It uplifted
and strengthened me
and reminded me of the truth. I would like to share
it here with you.
LOVE
309
There is no
difficulty that enough love will not conquer;
No disease that
enough love will not heal;
No door that enough
love will not open;
No gulf that enough
love will not bridge;
No wall that enough
love will not throw down;
No sin that enough
love will not redeem...
It makes no
difference how deeply seated may be the trouble;
How hopeless the
outlook;
How muddled the
tangle;
How great the
mistake;
A sufficient
realization of love will dissolve it all...
If only you could
love enough
you would be the
happiest
and most powerful
being in the world...
In 1998, when all
of my former life lay in ruin around me, I heard the
Holy Spirit ask me who was
the one person I
hated most? The answer came quickly and easily.
Silently I responded, "George Bush,"
since he was a man
who repeatedly hurt my baby girl from very early on.
The same day the Holy Spirit
questioned me, I
received a hospital advertisement in the mail
cheerfully announcing that George Bush
would be visiting a
local hospital just 25 minutes from my home. I was
devastated that people still looked
at him as a person
of honor, and associated him with charity and
healing? Then the challenge from Jesus
came when he called
me to love George Bush. I couldn't do that
initially, it took many prayerful hours for
me to ask God to
please change within me the attitudes that needed
changing in order for me to love and
forgive George
Bush. Obviously, that didn't happen overnight, but it
did take place, at first just for a
fleeting moment and
then for longer periods of time. That doesn't mean
that I stop working toward
exposing the system
that has caused this misuse of human life, nor does
it mean that I think what my
perpetrators did
was right or excusable. It simply means that no matter
what they or anyone else does to
me, they do not
have the power to make me hate, or the power to take
away my right to love, for love is
my continuing goal.
Forgiveness
I was confused and
tormented as I awakened to the realization that my
father and others had
abused me in such
horrific ways and that they had actually taken
control of my life for nearly 40 years.
The awareness that
churches had been places where I was often
victimized, by individuals who I
associated with
being the most loving, added to my torment and
bewilderment. I searched for answers,
through reading
about many religions, trying to find the truth, and one
night I had a dream in which I
heard the word
"Beatitudes." Upon waking, the word stuck in my mind and
later, while attending a
religion class at
Pepperdine University, I went to my professor and
asked him what the word meant. He
told me and later
on that day, I went across the street to the Malibu
Presbyterian Church to speak to the
assistant minister.
Little did I know that through my seeking, the
Great Master Healer himself would
appear to me, but
that is exactly what happened. The minister ushered
me into his office and after I
confessed that I
had been severely abused as a child, had Multiple
Personality Disorder, had been forced
to participate in
satanic rituals where infants, children, and animals
were killed - and as I went on and on
- he looked at me
in horror, and said, "Get down on your knees, and ask
God to forgive you of your
transgressions. You
are a sinner."
The moment my knees
hit the floor, Jesus appeared to me and said, "Get
up off your knees, and
leave. You my child
are innocent, you have done nothing wrong." Taking
the authority of the Lord, over
this human who
stood ministering in His name, I did as commanded and
left. I couldn't understand yet
what Jesus was
trying to help me understand. It took time for Him to
reassure me that those acts,
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committed in a
programmed state, acting from other person's commands
and not from my own free
will, were not my
sin. In the days that followed, Jesus showed me that
He wanted me to stand in the
name of Mercy for
others who had been similarly tortured and abused.
Over time, He called me to
minister and share
His words of mercy and forgiveness with other
victims who presented themselves to
me in women's
shelters, at my office, at mental health conferences, and
through letters of response to
victims who wrote,
pouring out their hurts to me after they read my
book I know that this message from
Jesus, one of
complete forgiveness, touched the hearts and minds of the
people I spoke with, as deeply as
it did me because I
saw the tears of relief and understanding well up
in their eyes. God wants His people
free.
I had many
experiences where His Angels demonstrated that they were
guiding me. I heard the
Holy Spirit
whisper, "get up from your reading, and go down to the
Bazaar." I hadn't known that there
was a Christmas
bazaar at Pepperdine, but I followed the voice of the
Holy Spirit and was led to a small
purple book
entitled, "Angels Are Watching Over Me. " And if I doubted
that it was true, in the months
and years that
followed, the voice of the Holy Spirit led me to books,
places, and people to help me heal
and gain freedom.
Books even fell off of shelves in libraries, many of
them reminding me that the Angels
of the Lord were
ever present and that I was not to worry. Other books
I was led to helped me organize
my healing in such
ways that, when healing took place, it was core
healing and not superficial or
drugged.
I often tell the
story of the experience I had at traffic school.
During the early stages of my
recovery, despite
the smile that betrayed my true inner feelings, I was
so full of repressed, subconscious
rage that it often
found its release in driving too fast and I
continually got traffic tickets for speeding; one
day I got two!
Since I was already on assigned risk and my insurance
rates were extremely high, my
husband suggested I
go to traffic school, so I did. The traffic
schoolteacher was younger than I, but that
day she had an
important message for me. I had been wrestling with just
how I was going to forgive these
people who had done
this to my children and myself. As I explained my
dilemma she said, "All you have
to do is heal
yourself so you have something left for giving." I know
now that what she said was true and I
understand the
wisdom because, now in a healed state, I do have much to
give. And, I thank God for
that.
In Carbondale,
Illinois, in 1995, nearly one year after my final
integration and deprogramming, I
was working in the
garden. It was a warm day and I luxuriated in the
midst of the peace and solitude that
I found among my
tomato and zucchini plants. Very clearly, I once again
heard the voice of the Holy
Spirit, this time
instructing me to go visit my father.
"God, you want me
to do what?" I couldn't believe I was being asked to
go and visit this man who
had tortured and
programmed me for so many years, besides it wasn't
safe for me in California, I had
actually been raped
there as 1 made my initial attempt to get Starshine
into print in 1993. But I heard the
words very clearly,
"Go visit your father, fly under your real name,
stay 24 hours and then return. An
intelligence
officer will approach you. Do not be afraid. Tell him what
happened to you and to your
children."
I thought maybe I
hadn't heard correctly. So, I took this into prayer
and in a very short while I
knew I was to go to
California. Soon God showed me a vision where I saw
lights on in the White House
symbolizing
individuals who would wake up and help. Then He shared with
me that, like the men's
secret society
(freemasonry) that has allowed secret knowledge to be
passed between men, that He also
had a secret
society that was more powerful-The Holy Spirit. Then He
showed me that as men's secret
societies fund and
support each other, so shall God's people fund and
support their own. He showed me
that through Him,
and in His time, the Holy Spirit would connect people
and allow them to be of like
mind, so the truth
could come to light. Although I didn't actually
understand how this was going to come
about, I was
encouraged.
311
I booked my ticket,
and the next day I went to California, to the
nursing home where my father
was being cared
for. When I walked in, I was moved seeing my father
sitting in a chair, withered and
small, a whisper of
the physical stature he had been before. When he
saw me, he immediately began
crying, and through
his tears he cried, "I love you. I knew you'd come."
I got down on my
knees before my father and said, "Dad, I forgive you."
Looking me directly
in the eyes, he replied in a childlike manner, "I
forgive you too." At that
moment I knew
without a shadow of a doubt that my father, this man who
had tortured me for years,
had no idea, no
memory, no awareness of what he had done. Still crying
he said, "Jesus brought me
here." This
statement caught me totally off guard, as here was a man
who together with my brothers had
ridiculed and
berated me for my belief in Christ for years. I had so
much I wanted to ask my father, but
was overwhelmed
with emotion. Trying to gather myself, I looked around
his room. There on his
bookcase, was a
golden spider web with a crystal spider in the middle.
Woven into this art piece was a
Ronald Reagan
wristwatch. My thoughts raced to information an
Intelligence officer "in the know" once
explained to me,
that victims will surround themselves with their
programming and often will display
objects that speak
to that which they verbally can't, as a form of
subconscious communication. This
spider web spoke to
me deeply through subconscious communication, and
although my father could not
tell me what he
knew, he had carefully preserved this piece to speak
what he could not. Again deeply
touched, I asked
him if I could have it. He said, "Sure, take anything
you want." My father and I cried
together. There was
so much I wanted to tell him and have him tell me
but he was no longer able. But
God knew that I
needed to see my father this one last time, in order to
complete my healing and
forgiveness
process. And that day, I totally and completely forgave my
father. I understood why he had
done what he had
done. As I stood to leave, I kissed him one last time
and told him I loved him, and
looking back I am
so grateful that God led me to that culmination and
completion with my father. Less
than three months
after that meeting my father passed away.
As I drove my
rental car to the airport to fly back to Illinois I
realized that the intelligence officer
experience had not
yet occurred. But I was not to be disappointed
because, shortly after I took my
window seat on the
aircraft, a distinguished looking black man took the
isle seat. After takeoff he flashed
his badge and
identified himself as White House intelligence for the
last 29 years. Taking his business
card out of an
organizer, he laid it on the seat between us.
Unconsciously, still bound to the protocol of
my controllers, as
much us I wanted to, I couldn't pick up his card.
Nervously, I thought to myself, 'Oh
God, this is it'
This suited man
began by telling me, "There are some things you need to
know. One is that once
in the company
always in the company. Don't believe anyone that tells
you they've retired from the
company (CIA)."
Next he said, "When you speak publicly don't name the
names."
I told him I
wouldn't. At that moment the words spoken to me by the
Holy Spirit in the garden,
came back to me,
"Tell him what happened." So, I told this man about
the abuse of my children and
myself that often
led to our victimization in the White House. He told
me that he thought women like me
"just liked to be
with Presidents." And finally, as we walked off the
plane, the words he spoke surprised
me as I realized
maybe this man had a spiritual awakening, was serving
a higher calling, and was one of
the 'lights on the
White House' that God had shown me. He said that he
was committed to informing
ministers of
churches to do their jobs in helping victims. I was
encouraged.
Over the years,
what I witnessed in my father was something that I have
noticed in many of the
victims of the mind
control projects. He was extremely inventive and
futuristic and had many
personalities that
were extremely loving. My father designed and built
solar water heaters that he
installed on the
roof of our Woodland Hills home in the 1950's, and
shared thoughts and ideas that
312
continually
astounded me. Due to the shattering of his own psyche
through the ritual abuse he
endured as a child,
coupled with the mind control programming forced
upon this already vulnerable
man, he was never
in control of his own mind. From birth, his free will
was taken from him through the
abuse he endured at
the hands of his parents who themselves had been
through the same victimization
passed through
intergenerational, subconscious mental illness. Then, in
a final attempt to harness the
complete control of
his daughter, the doctors at UCLA took the last
vestiges of my father's free will when
they performed the
brain surgery that gave them total control.
Breaking the Denial
That Holds Us Captive
Honestly, I can
understand the denial many of you may be facing in
regard to all that I have
shared with you, as
I faced the same denial over and over. I did not
want to believe that any of the reality
that kept intruding
into my mind was real. Often I wanted to believe I
was insane, and at times even
wished I could
choose to live out the rest of my days rocking back and
forth in a drugged stupor in some
sanatorium. Then
not only in response to programming, but also feeling
trapped in a pain and confusion
I often felt I
could not bear alone another day, initially, I had
moments when I contemplated suicide. But
due to the
ramifications that act would have had on my children, that
was never a choice I could make. I
had to keep asking
God to strengthen me so I could face the painful
reality and heal in order to make a
difference in the
lives of my children.
Forget the Past,
Live in the Present?
It has been said
that those who forget the past are doomed to repeat it
and I believe this is part of
the situation we
face today because until now we haven't been told
enough valid historical information.
Before my recovery,
like most Americans, I was more interested in my
future than in my past but was
soon forced to deal
with it due to constant flashbacks. But what if a
person's past holds a potent key to
his or her future?
And what if that past holds intergenerational and
worldly information that when
realized and
righted will resonate throughout future generations,
causing freedom and a better quality of
life? Knowing my
past has set me free and I am grateful for the
spiritual guidance that told me that I had
to go backward
before I could go forward. Although dire circumstances
forced me to revisit my past, I
now know that the
inner work I completed in researching and healing the
dark, hidden areas of my own
past will
reverberate throughout the spiritual genes of my progeny's
future and I am glad for that.
Don't Worry, Be
Happy!
At first when these
bits and pieces of memory began surfacing in my
mind, I was terrified and
continually
dismissed them, as others told me things like, "You're just
too tired. You have a big
imagination. You
have everything a woman could want. Why don't you just
quit therapy, get a job and be
productive. Stop
living in the past. Don't worry, be happy!" Or, new
age belief systems that created
comments like,
"These are only your past lives. What you put your
attention and focus on grows. I don't
choose to think
about negative things. I like to focus on the light
instead of the darkness. I create my own
reality. This is
not part of my reality. If it's this painful to deal
with and causing you this much stress, it
must not be the
right thing to do." The list was endless. But over time
when these flashbacks and
thoughts intruded
into my present life with subjects and events that
didn't interest me (politics, glamour
and glitz, golf,
baseball games, football games, and sex orgies), I had
to wonder and question what it all
meant. That started
the quest that has led to my knowing and my
understanding. I am hoping you, too,
will be able to
overcome your own denial and to question these issues
put before you, because the safety
of our children
and, yes, even our human freedoms depend on it.
Over time I have
had a plethora of responses to the telling of my life
history. People have come to
their own
conclusions, based on their own belief systems and
understanding at the time. Over the years
it has continually
pained me to speak publicly, sharing bits and pieces
of what happened to me in an
313
attempt to stop
this abuse and gain help for my children and others,
only to finish my speech, look
out in the audience
and see blank faces. Perhaps many were numbed by
the magnitude of the
information I
delivered, or thought I had lost my mind instead of
finding it. But I can tell you that my
healing came from
the one or two loving persons who threw their arms
around me after I spoke, and
with tears in their
eyes that clearly communicated to me that they
understood the magnitude of the what
had happened said,
"I am so sorry this happened to you. What can I do?"
Celebrity
Other people have
said, "At least you met famous people and had
incredible experiences!" In
response, I say
that the years of my life that I lived as a mind
controlled robot to Bob Hope, Henry
Kissinger and
others were not mine, they were stolen from me. I was not
consciously present. Those
years were
tragically altered and woven with horrific and painful abuse
that separated me from my core
self and from the
family I love. I have painfully witnessed individuals
and society as a whole, hold in a
protective
reverence the "media-portrayed persona" of many famous
persons. I watched as people in all
walks of life -
housewives, ministers, attorneys, newscasters, and
professors, etc. - held firmly to their
view of famous
people they never personally knew, in order to maintain
some sort of fantasy relationship
or belief system
they held about these famous persons. People have said
to me, "Not Bob Hope, he
wouldn't do these
things," and I am left to wonder why they need to
hold onto their media-created reality
in lieu of opening
their minds and using their spiritual discernment to
examine the possibility that what
myself and others
are reporting might be true. My controllers, the
authors of this plan of enslavement,
are counting on you
to believe the media image they have thrust
forward. They are counting on you to do
nothing.
Another person said
to her husband, "She must have watched too many
X-Files!"
I shared that, with
the exception of occasionally catching a show at
someone else's house while
they had the
television on, I haven't watched television since 1989. I
have never seen X-Files. But I know
that through media
avenues, the authors of the New World Order Plan
have been able to very cleverly
hide this reality
out in the open.
I'll Do It My Way
I can tell you that
if I could only choose my life over again, I would
leave all the 'celebrities' out of
it and would live a
simple, basic life, enriched with love and deep
connection to God and my family. To
me that is where
life's richness lies, not in wealth or celebrity
status. Wealth and fame have never been
important to me,
and thank God, because if I had been attached to the
affluent lifestyle I had been living
in California, I
never could have chosen to break away and go for my
freedom, regardless of the cost. For
me, there is no
price tag on freedom and morality: it is priceless.
In the earliest
stages of memory breakthrough, when I had flashes of
insight of what my husband
and I were involved
in, I had moments before my programming kicked in,
when I was lucid before I
switched
personalities again, in order to try to figure out what to do.
There were many times before I left
California and the
life I lived with my husband, when I begged him to
heal and stand with me. He could
never hear me. Hand
in hand on a walk one day, I proposed, "Let's sell
the house and spend the money
on our healing;
yours, mine and the kids." He couldn't hear of it.
In weeks that
followed, he returned home from a conference and said,
"They asked us who we
looked up to and I
told them, you."
"God help us," was
my reply and in total and compete devastation, I
realized for the first time in
my life, that I was
bankrupt in my marriage, that my husband did not
serve the same God that many
314
parts of me did. I
felt alone, frightened and unprotected by the lack
of spirituality that I knew could
have guided our
lives together.
During times when I
devoted endless hours to exercise and nutrition,
people have said, "You look
too good to have
been through that much trauma," and during periods
when my expressed grief has left
me looking pale and
haggard, or over or under weight, people have said,
"You don't look good enough to
have been used with
celebrities."
I was forced to
invest in hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of
therapy ($300,000+) and
physical therapy
(thousands of dollars) in order to heal. All I can say
is that it is a miracle that my body is
still intact at
all, and I thank God for that. There are telltale signs
of the abuse recognizable by those "in
the know," scarred
skin from electroshock that left prod marks, and my
eyes often look as if something of
an electronic
nature has happened to me. But the major ailments I had
while in the midst of my mind
control are healed;
the migraines are gone, the continual sinus
infections, sore throats, breathing
problems and
hoarseness that often necessitated the use of an inhaler
are gone; no more colitis,
stomachaches and
nausea, constant fatigue and body pain. All these
symptoms are gone. As my mind
healed and I was
able to hold my reality mentally, and as I released
the traumas of the past, my body
healed. My healing
from this abuse is to God's glory and I know that
without seeking and heeding the
Holy Spirit's
leading, I never would have made it out. "It is not I,
but the Father within me, He does the
works. "--John
14:10.
We Are Called To
Love and Forgiveness
Prayerfully and
with immense love and compassion, I ask, "Father
forgive them for they know not
what they
do."--Luke 23:24.
My family and many
of our fellow humankind are still locked in the
bondage of the mind control
projects and
experiments due to the fact that their birth into
intergenerational dissociative families, and
their genetic DNA
encoding made them capable of advanced abilities for
which they have been targeted
for use by those
who seek to control. Please help these survivors to
freedom and release by donating
whatever you can,
even if it is a simple kind word to show you care.
One awareness that
weaves through my entire life under mind control is
that the love that shone
through from
people's spirits, even while under mind control, was never
wasted, nor was it ever lost;
indeed, it seemed
to be catalogued within me on some higher plane that
never goes away. So often, I
witnessed the love
of those under mind control who lived among and near
me. These creative people, all
full of so much
love that, even when I lay the often hurtful mind
control abuse experiences side by side
with who I knew in
spirit they really were, the love I felt from them
often blasted beyond their
programming,
allowing their soul essence to shine through. Immense love
and inherent behavior of
loving souls, all
interwoven with intense agonizing soul pain and
tragedy as the mind control technology
and those who
created the reality we were programmed to live,
manipulated and controlled our inherent
natures, our
spiritual life force and the love that lives within us. It
is for our controllers and our
perpetrators that I
write these words. For many survivors, in our
souls, even in physical and mental
programmed bondage,
already know the truth. But the world needs to
know. The soul is free and LOVE
is lasting. Jesus
was right, and he called us to love above all else.
He didn't call us to worship power,
monetary gain, or
the control of others. He called us to love. He
taught us that there was no greater gift
than to lay our
life down for a friend, and, He wants His people free.
Please help me to help these most
beautiful souls,
who have been locked in anguish and bondage, who, from
birth have been locked away
315
from their inherent
loving nature, to find the light of day and be
freed from the agenda of those who
seek to benefit by
robbing their talents and abilities.
And in the final
curtain call is the Council actually the old, worn,
frazzled Wizard of Oz hiding
behind the curtain,
frantic that he has been exposed and defrocked of
his power? Those in search of Oz -
Dorothy finding her
home and family, the Cowardly Lion finding courage,
and the Tin Man finding his
brain - these were
the ones who were strong in the end, not the one
pulling the strings!
In truth I believe
we are all one, and together we can find the answer,
if we choose ...Let that
answer be guided by
love.
"I was not
disobedient unto the heavenly vision." --Acts 26:19. "To
this end was I born, and for
this cause 1 came
to you, that I should witness to the Truth." --John
18:37. "You shall know the Truth
and the Truth will
set you free." --John 8:32. "For the Son of man has
not come to destroy men's lives,
but to save them."
--Luke 9:56. "For 1 have come that they shall have
life, and that they might have it
more abundantly."
--John 10:10. "I am not alone, because the Father is
with Me."--John 16:32. "1 and
the Father are
one." --John 10:30.
"For you were
called to freedom, brethren; only do not use your freedom
as an opportunity
for the flesh, but
through love be servants of one another. For the
whole of the law if fu flied in one word,
"You shall love
your neighbor as yourself." -- Galatians. 5:13-14.
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Brice Taylor -
Thanks for the Memories
Chapter
Thirty-eight: A Mother and Grandmother’s Sorrow
A GRANDMOTHER'S
SORROW: SUE'S MOM
A Family Torn Apart
My husband was a
welder and when we were first married he worked at the
shipyards where he
got hurt. One
night, while working in the dark, he ran into a steel
plate, hit his head, and was knocked
unconscious. He
sustained serious neck injuries and six months later
his neck became very painful and
shook
uncontrollably. The diagnosis was torticollis of the neck. He was
in so much pain that he would try
anything the
doctors suggested; such as shock treatments, being
injected with typhoid fever, endless
experimental drugs,
brain surgery and many other medical interventions.
When he was 45
years old he was told by a doctor that he only had five
years to live. He wanted to
be sure his young
family would be taken care of so he bought all the
life insurance he could get.
In the meantime, he
quit the shipyards and opened his own welding shop.
My youngest son loved
welding and became
very good at it. My oldest son went to college and
graduated as a geologist.
Eventually, though,
they both worked at the welding shop. They fought
constantly. It was driving my
husband nuts. He
got up one morning and was acting like a crazy man. He
said he was going to the shop
and fire one of
them, he didn't know which. I was scared and
devastated. I begged and pleaded with him
but I could not
reason with him. He came home later and told me he had
fired the older son. I was
surprised that he
hadn't fired the youngest son. He had always nagged
him and verbally abused him.
A few weeks later
my husband asked me for a tape recorder. He said he
wanted to make a tape for
his oldest son. I
helped him get it ready and left the room. A short
time later when I looked in on him, he
was holding the
tape recorder and crying. Later, I found out he had
said that he had to fire the oldest boy
because the younger
son held something over him. The older son asked if
it was business and my
husband said, "No,
personal."
Our son asked,
"What was it Pop, did you have an affair?"
"Much worse," my
husband answered.
Years later, he
went to his deathbed carrying the secret. The thought
that it might be incest, child
pornography or any
of these other horrors never crossed my mind.
My two sons are
estranged. I've tried many times since 1974 to talk to
my sons, to get them to at
least talk to one
another, but to no avail. The younger boy was willing
but the older one said, "No way." It
hurt me so bad for
so long I thought I would go crazy. One night I said
to God in my prayers, "God, I
can't handle this,
you take over."
In 1967, my husband
had brain surgery to stop the pain and shaking in
his neck. They went down
through the brain
to sever the nerves that were causing the pain. It
helped but he was in the hospital for
a long time.
A few years later
he had a heart attack and finally had open-heart
surgery. There were
complications.
During the surgery he went without oxygen for four
minutes. They said because he had
brain surgery, his
brain became swollen and he had edema of the brain.
He was coma-like for 12 days.
When he came out of
it he was like a vegetable, didn't know any of us.
He was helpless, couldn't feed
himself, go to the
bathroom or walk. After months of physical therapy
he was able to walk and could pick
up food with his
hand. His memory was partially blocked. This deficit
impaired his whole left side. He
never regained all
of his memory. I took him home and took care of him.
My daughter stopped
by one day, which was not unusual, as she lived
down the street. She asked
if she could talk
to me. She said she had something to tell me so we
went outside and sat on the swing in
317
the back yard. She
told me her father had sexually abused her. I was
shocked, stunned, sad, and
couldn't believe
what I was hearing. She also said, "You and grandma
also abused me."
I started crying
and thought, "Where was I?" I had no memory of any of
this happening. I finally
said to her, "It's
not that I don't believe you, it's just that I can't
remember." But I was so naive when I got
married right out
of High School. I thought we were a normal, happy
family and this accusation shocked
me to the roots. I
thought and thought but could not remember a thing.
I do remember often saying
when the kids were
little that life seemed to good to be true.
Later she told me
that I had abused all three of her children. I
couldn't believe that I had done
that, as I love
those children like my own. I was heartsick and kept
praying it was not true. She gave me a
booklet from Los
Angeles Women's Task Force on Ritual Abuse, and
wouldn't let me see her children
anymore. I could
hardly function. I was heartsick, like in a trance.
As my daughter told
me more about the abuse, I tried so hard to
remember, but couldn't. In going
over her
allegations and remembering her childhood, I thought there
were times the abuse could have
happened. But she
appeared to be a normal, happy little girl. She was
such a good little girl, obedient,
loving and just a
little angel.
Sometime in the
late 80's my daughter told me her father had sexually
molested her from the time
she was a baby.
After Sue continued to tell me more, I began to believe
her and that this really happened.
I could hardly
stand to look at my husband or take care of him any
longer but he was a sick old, helpless
man so I continued
to care for him, every second hating him. But no
matter what happened, he never
complained.
Shortly after this
she came to confront her father. She told him he had
sexually abused her. He
had a very hard,
angry look as he looked at me and said, "Your daughter
is crazy." She left and we didn't
see her for a very
long time. I would call but she wouldn't answer the
phone or talk to me.
My husband
continued to be a very sick man and had to be taken care of.
From then on, I only
spoke to him when I
had to. To think he had abused our daughter made me
hate him. I had loved him for
over 50 years. Now
I couldn't even let him touch me at night. If he
happened to put his leg or arm across
me, I'd kick him.
After my daughter's
two accidents that both happened on April 12th, two
years apart, my daughter
disappeared. I
didn't know where she was. I was so afraid for her. She
had not spoken to me for many
months. It was like
losing my arm. We were, I thought, so close and now
she wanted nothing to do with
me. I felt like it
was a dream or a terrible nightmare that I'd wake up
from in the morning and it wouldn't
be true. I was so
worried about her. Without talking and praying to
God, I never would have gotten
through that
separation from her.
I felt like I was
going crazy, so I went to a therapist. The therapist
did not seem to be helping me.
After Sue fled from
California, she called me and told me she was
running for her life. One day I told my
therapist that I
had sent Sue money to help her write the book she
explained she was needing to write to
stay alive. The
therapist surprised me when she said emphatically,
"Don't give her any more money."
I told this
therapist, "God told me to help my daughter." That's when I
stopped going to her. Sue
was my daughter and
my heart said to help her. In spite of the abuse
allegations, her father kept saying
to me, "Help her,
Honey. Help her."
I continued caring
for my husband; he was helpless and couldn't do
anything for himself. I gritted
my teeth and helped
him, all the while hating him. He never mentioned
the abuse again.
I got a call one
day from my daughter. I was elated to hear from her.
She was in Hawaii and she
wanted me to know
that she was going to be hit by this hurricane and
didn't know what would happen to
her. Later on the
news, they showed the island of Kauai damage from
Hurricane Inniki. It was in ruins. I
tried to call her
but all lines of communication were down. Finally
after a few days, she called to say she
was alright, but
lost everything she had.
318
When she came back
to the states she called and told me more about her
abuse. I was so
confused but even
though I could not remember anything, I began to
believe it was all true. She moved
from place to place
to stay alive and finally called and said she was
safe, but wouldn't tell me where she
was. I felt so
relieved that she was safe and getting help.
First it's My
Daughter, Then My Granddaughter
Then her teenage
daughter started having problems. Without any apparent
reason, she tried to
commit suicide
three separate times. She is such a sweet, loving girl.
I could hardly let myself think of
her being sexually
abused. And if I had abused her, I shouldn't be
allowed to live. We talked but my
granddaughter
couldn't seem to tell me why she had made those attempts.
She finally decided to go live
with her mother.
She had only three months of school here in California
until she graduated. We thought
she could finish
her school there. She was okay for awhile with her
mother and then she started being
dysfunctional and
finally became catatonic. My daughter was frantic.
She couldn't handle her, as Sue is
much smaller in
stature and not as physically strong as my
granddaughter is. She called and told me she
was taking her to
the hospital. She didn't know what else to do.
My granddaughter
was in the hospital a very short time when somehow she
was able to call her
father. She told
him she was being held against her will and would he
please come get her. He did fly
there and get her.
But, instead of taking her to their home where she
thought she would be going, he
explained to her
that she needed help and he was taking her to a
halfway house, a place that other
teenagers who
needed help lived. She shared a room with a teenage girl
who also had problems. They
had a lot of rules.
She began functioning, taking care of herself, and
doing her chores. She often just went
to bed and slept. I
started picking her up on Sundays. We would eat,
shop, or take a ride. She was always
so happy to see me.
I called her almost every day; she would call me,
too, not for anything in particular,
just to talk. I
asked her one time how she felt when she thought she
was going home with her dad and
found out she was
really going to a halfway house. She said she felt
abandoned.
Her mother
suggested that EEG Biofeedback might help her, so every
Thursday, I'd pick her up
and take her. She
loved frozen yogurt so we'd always stop for that.
We'd talk and she always said she
hated where she was
living. She was able to finish her high school
course. They taught her how to take
the bus, so one day
she enrolled at Pierce Junior College to take a
psychology class. She had only 10 days
to finish the class
when she called her Mom and said she couldn't stand
it there at the home anymore.
Together my
daughter and I got her a ticket, that was a Saturday and
she was to leave on Monday.
Saturday night her
father picked her up and tried to talk her out of
going, but she stood firm and said she
was going. She was
so scared to go alone. She kept saying, "What if I
can't find the gate I'm suppose to go
to?"
I told her to go to
the counter and tell them, "I need help." I called
the day of her flight to be sure
the shuttle had
picked her up. I prayed all day that God would watch
over her and keep her safe. She
arrived safely and
my daughter was there to meet her and take her home.
She was okay for awhile then
started staring off
again as if she were in a trance and didn't seem
aware of anything going on around
her. I feel so
helpless, I want to help her but I don't know how.
Her brothers and I
went for a visit with her and her mother. She would
be fine one minute and
then she would
start staring and not talking, then she'd be okay again.
When I think about
my granddaughter and all she is going through I can
hardly bear it. Such a
waste of a young,
loving, life and what a horrible thing that she has
to suffer and go through all the pain.
These are things
that should not happen to anyone.
My daughter is now
healed and is doing everything she can to help and
heal her daughter. I pray
constantly that my
granddaughter can be healed and lead a normal life.
I am so proud of both of them.
My husband was a
man who had been severely physically, sexually, and
verbally abused as a child.
I loved him and
trusted him. He was so loving and sweet sometimes and
other times he would be so
319
nasty and mean. He
was like two different people. I know now he
suffered from Multiple Personality
Disorder.
He dearly loved his
family. He was very proud of his two sons and
dearly loved his little girl. I was
not aware at the
time that he was sexually abusing our daughter.
By 1990 I was
physically unable to take care of him. He was in a
wheelchair and had to be lifted
many times during
the day. I found a nice board and care for him and,
although I hadn't seen my oldest
son in years, I
called and asked if he would come and morally support
me while I told my husband about
the move. He said,
"Okay, what have I got to lose." He came and
explained to his dad how I couldn't
physically take
care of him and had found a nice place for him.
My husband said,
"Okay, if that's what you want to do with me."
At that time I was
seeing all of my kids, but always separately. I
couldn't speak about any of them
to the one I was
seeing. It was hell. When I would call my oldest son's
wife, she was very cool. Finally she
called and started
questioning me about Sue's sexual abuse. I told her,
"I don't remember anything, but I
believe her."
She said, "How
could you believe your daughter and still take care of
your husband?"
I was shocked. I
told her he was a sick, old, helpless man, what did
she want me to do with him?
She called later
and asked how I could see my younger son after all the
things he had done and I told her,
"I guess I have
unconditional love for my children."
Her reply was, "Not
me, my kids have to earn my love and they have."
After that my
oldest son and daughter-in-law wanted nothing more to do
with me. I was not to
call, send birthday
cards or presents of any kind. I once asked my
oldest son if he had forgiven his father
for firing him. He
said, "In my head I have, but in my heart I haven't."
My husband died
alone in a rest home in April of 1996.
I notified my
children. The only thing the oldest boy said was, "I'm
sorry to hear that." My
husband was
cremated and there was no service.
My family is
ruined. Not one of my children speaks to the other. I have
ten grandchildren and
three
great-grandchildren. I dream sometimes of us all sitting around
the table on holidays and just
enjoying each other
and being a loving family, then I wake up to
reality.
This generational
sexual abuse and mind control has ruined this family.
It breaks my heart as it
seems I can't help
to stop this, only by supporting my daughter. I pray
for all my grandchildren's safety.
Thank God, the
truth about this abuse is finally coming out so other
little children will be safe from it.
In the last three
years, I have thought so much about my husband's
abuse and have finally
forgiven him. I
hope he is at peace and looking down on us all, happy
to see his daughter working so hard
to end this abuse
for so many children.
Bettie Eckhart
Sue's Mom
A MOTHER'S SORROW:
SUE FORD
Turning the Tide
The pain and loss
of family locked into the bondage of mind control is
more excruciating than
losing them to
physical death. I miss my family more than they could
ever imagine, in truth, more than I
could have ever
imagined. I will never be able to replace my husband,
or the life I thought we were living.
I just wished he
had chosen to heal with me. Why didn't he? Or is it
really, why couldn't he? Whatever it
is or was, he
didn't or couldn't, and so I have gone ahead and forged a
path for freedom and sweet release
for my children and
myself, and have lighted a path for others if they
choose. Perhaps my husband was
never consciously
able to know that we were programmed together and
never really had a chance to
comprehend who we
really were independently or as a couple, but I feel
sure that I knew his spirit. In
truth, he was the
most gentle, loving and giving man I have ever known.
I know why my daughter is
320
having so much
trouble coming out of a catatonic state, because it is
so painful to deal with the reality
that the very ones
that you love and that love you are the ones that
are programmed to hurt you so much.
That is the nature
of the evil system that has kept so many under mind
control bondage. But, the truth is
that all of us were
programmed by a source outside of ourselves, at
birth; a time when none of us were
able to change any
of the horrendous circumstances we faced.
To have had this
seemingly beautiful family and then to wake up to
reality only to find that it
wasn't beautiful,
that instead our lives were interlaced with terror,
abusive horrors, and atrocity; nothing
was as it seemed.
To wake and find that I wasn't safe, and then to
retrieve the agonizing memories that
led to discovering
that my children were not safe, was harrowing. And
then to deal with the fact that my
husband, the father
of my children, was programmed to drug, rape and
deliver us, was as painful, if not
more painful than
my father doing the same to me. I find myself curled
into a fetal position on the floor
more nights than I
care to think about, crying out in desperation and
in a pain that never seems to go
away, a pain that
really never lessens. The pain is a great burden and
yet I find that to carry it is to feel
what is real. And,
with that, I feel the great love and strength that
has carried me this far.
Like my daughter, I
want my family back. I want the love that we all
thought was there. I want
everyone healed. I
want especially for my children to be freed and
released. If I had to give my life for
that, I would
indeed feel that it was spent wisely. I pray daily that
God will carry me to make whatever
contribution I can,
and that He will light the path for my children's
freedom. Indeed, for the freedom of
all those who
suffer.
I have never felt
so uncertain about the future. I have given up the
hope that any of the wrong's
will be righted
overnight. I never could have left, in my attempt to
save my life and heal in order to get
help for my family,
had I known that it would have taken this many
years and that my family would still
not be free. Still
under mind control, and not yet recovered enough to
have the full memories that made
the picture of our
high level slavery more complete, I naively thought
that I could get my children out of
danger and into
safety and healing much quicker. I never thought that
it would take this many years to
ignite public
intervention and outcry - and then to have my sweet,
loving, gentle daughter Kelly left in a
completely
dysfunctional state, and my two sons in total disbelief and
unable to hear anything I have to
say to point their
way to safety and freedom, due to their own
programming.
I will never again
tell survivors that I live in peace and contentment,
because I don't. I have been
given the Grace of
God that allows me to live in a somewhat dissociated
state of mind with the painful
reality of all that
has happened in the background as I presently live
a somewhat successful life. But it
doesn't stop the
pain. There are times when I want to pretend none of
this is real, I want to escape into
dissociation, right
along with Kelly. I miss her. I miss Craig, I miss
Kevin and Danny. God, I miss them
all! Please God,
use me in my brokenness to help others not have to
hurt this much.
I must be very
dangerous to the architects of this evil system and my
high level controllers. For I
am a woman who
loves God and her family more than life itself, and will
not bow down to fear. In many
ways I am fearless
for I have nothing left to loose. Everything
precious to me has been taken away. Every
bond that was
sacred, has been tainted, and broken. Birth, life,
marriage, children; family relationships
of father, mother,
brother, husband, son, daughter, all tainted and
destroyed. All that was before lies in
ruins. Total and
complete ruins. And what remains in the future is in
your hands. For I have laid down
the burden. I have
spent the past 14 years communicating what happened
to me to as many persons
possible. I am
tired and spent and the future depends on humanity's
decisions and actions. I pray for the
release of the
many. I pray for the release to be timely. I pray for
the release to be gentle and full of grace,
love, and ease,
instead of through pain and suffering. I love God and I
am grateful for His leading. I pray
for strength in the
face of what God has planned for my life, that I
might fulfill my purpose.
321
Writing this
manuscript has been so excruciatingly painful, that I
found myself wandering the
house looking for
some undone chore to take me away from facing the
full ramification of the
experiences that
bring me to this writing; somewhere, anywhere to
escape to. The pain is so deep, so
present, and so
pervasive. My heart aches for the love lost, for the
suffering endured, for the souls locked
in bondage. Many
nights I cry until the tears won't come any longer.
Just when I feel like I couldn't
possibly cry
another moment, another wave of grief strikes and I hold
my body, in an attempt to survive
the aftermath of
emotional pain. If it were not for Jesus, I could not
have endured. For He has put this
appointment before
me. When I was a child, and the torture that often
took me near death was too much
to bear, Jesus sent
His angels to minister to me, to gently and
lovingly guide me back to my body, so I
could be here now
to tell you what has happened, so it can stop. And
when as an adult I reached a point
in my spiritual
healing that I could begin to put the terror associated
with Him, created from satanic
ritual abuse,
aside, the Master Himself began appearing before me,
leading me, guiding me, and
interceding when I
was totally alone and in need. Believe me, Jesus is
alive today. The Great Healer can
heal anything,
everything, we only need to ask. And now we must join
together to stop this sinister
agenda so the
children won't have to suffer any longer and so humanity
can be assured of life free of
mind control. Jesus
has asked me to ask you to help. Please help me to
help the others. They are so
worthy and have
suffered so much. More than anyone I know they deserve
a gigantic measure of Christ
love. Recently, as
I watched the movie, Schindler's List, I could
relate to his frantic desperation and hard
work to rescue and
save the lives of as many Jewish people as he could,
finally selling his last possessions
to do so. This man
realized the precious value of a soul. Jesus calls
us to give to those who are in need.
Most victims of
mind control and ritual abuse who are trying to break
free, are forced to live in stark
poverty and
degradation; physically, emotionally and spiritually. They
need safety from further abuse
and shelter from
the cold; they need blankets, food and clothing. They
need nurturing touch and love,
EEG Neurofeedback,
therapy with informed clinicians, body therapies,
natural healthcare, and they need
skilled and
compassionate people to listen to their pain in order to
heal the wounds and scars from the
past. Please help
in whatever ways you can.
Susan Ford
"The things that
are impossible with man are possible with God." --
Luke 18:27
"For with God
nothing is ever impossible, and no word from God shall be
without power or impossible
offulfillment." --
Luke 1:37
...AND THE TRUTH
SHALL SET YOU FREE!
Brice Taylor -
Thanks for the Memories
EPILOGUE
A New Vision for
the Future
What initially
began as journaling in order to sort out my mind, became
more of a project once I
began to break free
and see that there was some insane organized plan
behind the mysteries of my life.
The singularity of
my one voice has been lonely over the years, but
there were moments when the good
Lord caused my path
to cross with at first one, and then two, and then
whole groups full of beautiful but
wounded persons who
had been though similar experiences. Together all
of our voices, telling the same
truths, have gained
strength over the years. And today I am not alone
in my recovery, for I have many
brothers and
sisters all over the globe that have recovered to inform
you of much the same grim picture
that I have shared
with you here. I have spent the last 14 years
cataloging this information, and am now
able to report to
you what has been going on behind the scenes so that
the truth might set us all free. God
only knows the full
ramifications of what has occurred, but this
information that I have presented to you
in the clearest
manner I know how, will give you a glimpse of the plans
and agenda of those who at the
322
present time are
not only pulling the purse strings, but are
manipulating the very life force of the
nation and
ultimately of the world.
We find ourselves
at a time when, in order to survive and insure that
our freedoms are reinstated,
we must take
action. It no longer serves us as a nation and as a world
to turn a deaf ear to what has
occurred. These
actions taken by those whose consciousness is dwarfed
by the belief in power and
control have, in
actuality, called us to a new time of choice. We stand
at the crossroads of a new era,
indeed a new
millenium. And now it is truly our choice as to where to
go from here. Will we continue to
be uninvolved,
feeling that the chaos, created intentionally to confuse
and disrupt, has caused our world
to seem so
unbalanced and turbulent that we feel we don't know how to
choose, that we don't know
which way to turn?
Or will we see clearly though the chaos and
confusion, and rise above their
smokescreen
attempts to hide their New World Order plan to enslave the
human race, so we can create
another option? We
do have many choices. As a matter of fact, what
these controllers have led us to is a
clear view of what
needs attending to anyway, in our technologically
advancing world. Armed with the
information of what
is askew, we can now right the wrongs and clearly
envision what could be. The lives
of our children and
future generations depend upon the choices we make
at this pivotal juncture.
We can create a new
world. We can create a new reality to include
freedoms not yet known to this
planet. We can
create new institutions, new ways of ordering society
with God's leading and God's
guiding. Many
clamor for lives filled with more time: time to rest, to
enjoy nature, to spend with family
and friends in
simple modes of comradery, time to reflect and time to
come closer to God and our higher
nature. These can
all be part of a new reality we create together, as
God's people. But we have to realize
that to make the
choice to stand silent is to let those whose belief in
power and control of the masses,
take control in
order to enslave us all. They led us to this point in
time where we are nearly out of time.
God has called me
to sound the wake up call as I join with others
around the nation and the world
who are sounding
the same alarm. We must wake up and we must act. This
is a call to action in order to
avert the
culmination of their New World Order plan. Never was there
more critical time than now for
standing for what
we believe in, unintimidated by disconnected,
unhealed beings who are bullying us
around on this
beautiful planet of ours, taking control where we have
neglected to maintain our
vigilance. The
technology that has been created has been used in an
evil way, causing harm and
separation among
and between individuals, families, groups, and from
God, indeed from the higher
nature of our inner
being. We can continue to allow our university
medical research, military, and space
programs to be
filled with an alternate secret agenda, or we can call
into account those working within
secret systems that
have allowed these mind control atrocities to
operate behind protected walls, as those
who participate at
the highest levels go unpoliced and undetected.
The Holy Spirit has
shown me that once you have completed this book and
the veil that once
clouded your eyes
has been lifted, many will know how they are called
to bring about the swift change
necessary for
averting the One World Government and the intended
totalitarian New World Order
agenda planned by
our controllers. He has shown me that many will know
their exact positions and will
know just what part
they are to play in reuniting this once strong,
free nation. Indeed the vision I see is a
beautiful
orchestration of souls. May God bless those individuals with
the courage, wisdom, insight, and
love needed to set
us back on course. You who are called know who you
are and will remember why
you've come. Let us
stand as a united front to speak out and take
action to protect one of the most
precious gifts we
each have: our minds. We must stand up to those who
seek control and say, "NO
MORE. THIS ABUSE
MUST STOP!" It is time to cast our denial aside and
take action as we are
spiritually
directed. For we have been called to protect the children.
Please join me in
united solidarity. Let's create a safer, beautiful
world where children can be born
into peace, safety,
and love. If we start at the beginning where life
initiates and insure that doorway is
clear, we will go a
long way toward insuring the survival of the human
race. Many are now more aware of
the damage done to
a baby or young child when abuse occurs. Indeed this
unconscious state of the abuse
323
of children
continues to snowball as one generation takes the wounding,
only to inflict it
unconsciously,
without knowledge or understanding, on the next
generation. Let us heal these areas
within us that were
caused by abuse in our own childhood's, so that we
do not continue to inflict those
wounds on the most
precious resource we have, our innocent children.
Let us protect the doorway for
others born to this
planet, that they might discover that it is safe to
be born here on earth once again.
Together we can let
love prevail. The past has served to clearly show
us where we have gone astray. Let's
begin again, by
choosing a different outcome and then work together in
order to create a new world.
We need the
strongest, most courageous among us to stand and call into
account those
individuals and
groups who have participated in this atrocity; their
version of this 'Utopian Hell,' in
order to stop this
abuse of children. We need individuals to initiate
laws and measures that will not only
insure freedom of
the mind, but other very fundamental freedoms taken
for granted, that we now stand
to loose. The
course of our actions now will determine the future. What
will we choose, fear or love?
And now as my job
of exposing the deeds and plans of those who worship
power and control
comes to a close, I
am once again redirected to my job of helping the
victims heal. God has
commissioned me to
stand at the doorway, to accept donations in
whatever way they flow to me as
fiduciary for
others who have been abused in similar ways and to set
about busily setting up safe healing
centers for victims
to seek aid if they choose. The quantity and
magnitude of these centers is up to you,
for my job is to be
there, and your job, if so called, is to help fund
it. Many have been wounded and are
needing our help.
The Holy Spirit that guides me has shown me that the
outpouring of generosity, in
whatever form, can
alleviate much of the suffering and help to avert
even much of the earth calamities
and chaos, for the
outpouring of love for fellow humanity heals the
mass consciousness on the planet. As
we unite around the
world in prayer and action we create a very
powerful vibration of love; a frequency
that unlocks and
heals the hearts of those who have yet to learn the
awesome power of Christ love.
We stand at the
crossroads to a very important time of choice, action,
and giving. Instead of a
One-World
Government we can create a One-World Healing. Please help the
young and the wounded
among us who depend
on our strength and courage to show them a better
day. Please give what you can
to insure that this
abuse stops and insure the victims a means of
healing. They are counting on us. Don't
miss the call.
Brice Taylor - Thanks for the Memories
A Survivor's
Experience
"I, too, have a
story. Some of the details are all too similar to
Sue's. Much I don't yet remember.
What I do know is
that ten years ago, I began having memories of abuse
...first by my uncle, then my
father, then floods
of memories of Satanic and ritual abuse. This is
where I stalled, if you will, for five
years. I believed
during that time that I was free from my captors, as
long as I kept my distance. And I
went about
rebuilding a life for myself, carefully controlling my
environment so that I wouldn't be
triggered by "my
past" any more than I could handle. I thought I was
being a really good mom, and wife,
and friend. And
yet, I continued to be tormented by nightmares,
memories, feelings of agitation, anger,
rage, and
depression. Deep inside of me, I knew that I wasn't free. And
yet, I still believed that I was reexperiencing
the past. Now what
I know is that I was still involved, unconsciously
triggered even to
return to satanic
rituals while the abuse continued and, under mind
control, I was still carrying out the
wishes of those
attempting to bring in the "New World Order." Now I
have seen what I could not see
before - a
"reality" that is being carried out by some misguided souls
on earth at this time.
Through the help of
EEG Neurofeedback, I have been able to reclaim my
mind, for my own use. I
am aware of what a
gift it is to have the use of some of the same
technology that was previously used to
control me, to now
set me free. I am finding that EEG Neurofeedback is
helping me to integrate quickly,
as I learn to stay
alert and attentive and not dissociate. I am also
learning to keep myself safe by
discovering the
ways that others have been able to "access" me through
programming.
I would say that
the major focus of these past five years has been
strengthening my connection to
God and learning to
discern the different voices, or promptings, from
within. How do I decide what to
trust? Who or what
is worthy of my trust? The key for me has been
prayer. When I haven't known what
to believe in, I
have prayed to know. I have learned to trust that
there is a God ...a Power greater than any
that humans can
wield on this planet. And so, I go directly to that
Source. Those prayers continue to
bring me the
healing and the safety that I seek. Please join me and the
many others who are committed
to living our true
purpose, and loving ourselves and each other into
freedom."
-- A Ritual Abuse
and Mind Control Survivor