50 Years Ago



File:Rigveda MS2097.jpghttps://universerescuekathyfoshaywordpresscom.wordpress.com/portfolio/sanskrit/The click-on only shows that it’s a PD, a public domain illustration. Melquiades sat in the Buendias house and prophesied their demise in this language but then coded every other line in Emperor Augustus’ private code and the Spartan’s military code.

… the “Limitless” novel’s Dona Alvarez had told the Spinola character, that Norte Americanos think that life is in a linear direction, as I very strongly feel that way and have been repeating that all these Armageddon Show decades now somehow, but she said that in Latin America the past the present and the future all co-exist on you at the same time. That statement didn’t get comprehended by me, (I have to stay away from the word “sense” because of all the brain-eaters, they think everything is in their brain-eating slang or “flash” lingo, etc., that it hadn’t made any of that to me) until I read the same thing then in this “One Hundred Years of Solitude,” by Gabo Garcia Marquez. However it’s only the same thing as stereotyping! We weren’t meant to be stereotypes, that’s part of the Autism spectrum that the system has been perpetrating. [the quote from law and policy is missing from here.]

3 January, typical disorganization and horror and only a limited amount of time, on this most gorgeous weather day…. The forecast site says it’s 67 degrees, sunny, and going up to 75 this weekend. This is what I’d come to Houston for but my recollection of last winter is horrible so I figure that all that is still coming over the next four months. I quick-read Rbt. Louis Stevenson’s “The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll (Henry Jekyll) and Mr. Hyde (Edward Hyde,) and I think that that’s about what I call the “– I can’t recall what I call them yet, ” where reproductive matter is “science” or laboratory or unnaturally mated, put together from people who wouldn’t ordinarily have sex, bingo-bongo’s is something like my term for how we then come out to be as people, bingo-ball catch as catch can just throwing any reproductive matters together in a mixed brew sort of a thing the system’s been “experimenting” with, and I think that that’s the main thing that Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde is about where at the end you find out that they’re the same person but have nearly nothing in common, he transforms from the self he’s used to into some other person entirely, smaller and younger and rough and libertine, a dangerous character, and I think that that’s what the subject really is, the potion the doctor drinks just being a way to describe how that situation could arise, a vehicle for explaining that without anything about that the whole society was secretly revolving around this people-manufacturing, etc.

There was an Edward Hyde who’d been a governor of NY-NJ for seven years from 1702-09. Here’s a caption to the painting by the NY history dot org group: Gallery label Typical of provincial British portraiture of the early eighteenth century, this rather curious portrait of a woman had long been identified as a likeness of Edward Hyde, who carried the title Viscount Cornbury and was appointed Governor of the Province of New York and New Jersey by his cousin, Queen Anne, in 1702. Serving as Governor until 1708, Lord Cornbury was reported to have been “universally detested,” and a fondness for cross-dressing accompanied his reputation as “half-witted.” Popular legend had it that the Governor discredited his office by publicly appearing in women’s attire, strolling Broadway – even opening the Assembly – in his wife’s clothes. Hyde is also said to have held his state levees at New York, and received his visitors dressed up in complete female court costume, because he represented the person of a female Sovereign, his cousin Queen Anne. Recent scholarship has both removed some of the blemishes added to Cornbury’s gubernatorial abilities by nineteenth century detractors, and reclaimed the likeness as female. However the sitter’s identity, like that of the artist who captured her straightforward gaze without softening her features for the sake of a beautiful picture, remains a mystery.

Portrait of an Unidentified Woman
Portrait of an Unidentified Woman
Object type painting
Gallery label
Date first quarter of 18th century
Medium oil on canvas
Dimensions Height: 124.8 cm (49.1 ″); Width: 98.7 cm (38.8 ″)
Accession number
Credit line Purchase
Notes The purported portrait of Lord Cornbury (1661-1723) dressed as a woman. There is no evidence about the identity of the sitter, though.
Source/Photographer https://www.nyhistory.org/exhibit/portrait-unidentified-woman-2
Other versions


This is a faithful photographic reproduction of a two-dimensional, public domain work of art. The work of art itself is in the public domain for the following reason:

Public domain This work is in the public domain in its country of origin and other countries and areas where the copyright term is the author’s life plus 100 years or fewer.

Then the Jekyll and Hyde story was written in the late 1800s. Somewhere (p. 105 of this copy I’d gotten from the library,) I found a quote that je is I in French and kyll is like the word kill, jekyll= I kill, and then his first name is Henry and women are likened to being hens with eggs, = Women (ry) I kill. That “ry” is like rye, and then the ergot said to be the basis of LSD comes only from molded rye grass. It’s also a big poison, that the “brain-eaters” I can only think of to call the brain-eaters, would get high on anything and so maybe they’d found and used the ergot on rye for both getting high off of for themselves and for poisoning “normal” people.

check, war in the members; reference to book of Daniel 5’s mene tekel upharsin, you have been weighed in the balance and found wanting, for belshazar’s arrogance and defiance

F. Scott Fitzgerald’s father (Edward F. 1853 Rockville, MD- 1931 WDC) looked alot like J. Edgar Hoover’s father, Dickerson Naylor Hoover (1856 WDC-1921 WDC). They were likely “spawn brothers.” Rockville is a little connected, no pun, to these things, too.

I’m mentioning that I want to buy something without any of the system’s superstitious interpretations over it, that I’d like to buy sometime today or in the future a Key Lime Pie, without its having anything whatsoever to do with lying or anything else, get off of me, system, etc., loonies.

[I think this was from about the 9th of Jan, 2020, and then I’ve been real ill with all this “magic” invisible-torture:]

… Surprise for me, they’ve got the French Connection book at the downtown library but you can only read it there. I just want to check-see if Gottlieb happens to be mentioned in it, which I doubt but it’s worth checking. The new Gottlieb biography is still checked out/unavailable yet.

Somehow this comes up in trying to learn about the (Sir) Walter Raleigh era behind the “One Hundred Years of Solitude’s” story and geography. Queen Elizabeth, (probably from the wife of Italian Sr. Arnolfini’s ovae origin,) called Raleigh “Water” as his nickname; from the Wiki:  [Gonzalo Jimenez de] Quesada placed his right foot on the bare earth and said simply, “I take possession of this land in the name of the most sovereign emperor, Charles V.” The settlement was at first called New City of Granada, but later they changed it to Santa Fé de Bogotá, now known simply as Bogotá, from the Chibcha word Bacatá, the name of one of the two main cacicazgos of the Muisca Confederation. == My point is that they’d named it for the Saint Foy of Conques character in all this, Santa Fe, Saint Fides, same origin, different translations. That’s where I think that that “book of Revelation” had come from and the gospels and letters had then been added and the whole set added to the older set of the writings, that had been snatched. Now I’ll go look for the Ghent Altarpiece detail that I usually try to use to illustrate that snatching:

Closed Ghent Altarpiece detail, upper left corner.

I’m saying that the prophet Zecharias (sp./sic) on the above left is badgering the female in the turban, who’s likely to be praying to get out of there. They might be signifying that she can jump out the window. I think he’s badgering her to explain the writing in that gilt-edged ostensible early “Bible” of the various books put together, and she does the best she can but the Zecharias/Melquiades/Jomon type have something blocking or barricading comprehension of anything except what they like. Probably they’d been “eating” and running, smoking, brain for at least several centuries before this painting was made, reputedly 1432 for the Charles the Bold of Burgundy’s birth gift.

Wiki on Dulles to McCone, late 1961: McCone was not Kennedy’s first choice; the President had tentatively offered the job to Clark Clifford, his personal lawyer, who politely refused (Clifford would later serve as Secretary of Defense for Lyndon Johnson); and then to Fowler Hamilton, a Wall Street lawyer with experience in government service during the Roosevelt and Truman administrations. Hamilton accepted, but when a problem developed at the Agency for International Development, he was shifted there.[9] Thus Kennedy, urged on by his brother Robert, turned to McCone. == check Consolidated Steel Corp. and Bechtel-McCone.

These bums got me all messed up with their “weather drama ‘magic'” -ability on the way here, that I hadn’t heard anything on the radio about weather but they do almost nothing about news or weather on any of the stations I can only get so that when it started raining and seemed like a little storm brewing in this little 3-foot radius around me — this is too exciting for the parasites, an A.Ginsberg-type making like this trick they do is a real important big deal, that they get me scared and upset by having this little vacuum I’m in look like a weather emergency might start and I hadn’t taken an umbrella, though I had heard that tomorrow there’s supposed to be a big drop in temperature and I was going to look into when to start carrying the umbrella again, but even that is too much weight if it isn’t necessary so I don’t like to have to carry it unless I can get a weather report and it says that rain is likely that day, where it isn’t due to start till noon tomorrow, but the bums had just had me arriving here in that weather-panic mode and I finally got to check the forecast and there’s nothing new until noon tomorrow so I can try to figure how I’ll work my evening now, because I can’t just sit indoors for too long or I’ll be all sick again, etc. They have me virtually as a cripple from all this internal pulling on my innards on any excuse now, and it’s all a mind-game onto little me. Finally I realize that they’d had that 1961-62 French Connection smuggling-scam because the government had turned out now to have any real supply of LSD for any MKUltra or any other programs or hopes for getting high for any of themselves, that are aware of these goings-on of getting a government set up for the brain-eaters’ “consortium” of their selves and their cohorts, customers, etc. And that’s why all this has been being enabled to go on off of me and they’ve got me deeply-stranded in one of their favorite areas I’d guess from the Bushes’ being so prominent in alot of this. I’m trying to think what else I can do before leaving here to either go run errands i.e. food shop or just to go back to the room and worry about tomorrow tomorrow, now that I don’t have to configure the weather except that tomorrow I’ll have to take the umbrella. They’d had me so scared on the little way here that I thought I might have to buy another umbrella for about six dollars, which I don’t have on me anyway right now I just realized, as there’s a store that’s reachable from here for that. Etc. for this disgusting life. Before I leave to go do either of those two directions, sic, I’d like to send some email to anyone that might make a contact with a person for myself, just any of these people I’ve been trying to reach, as yesterday I’d opened a new gmail account. I’m real afraid of the “goo—” name, that these Melquiadeses all over my brain equate goo- anything with liquefying people. There isn’t any human connection in their heads and I can’t guess why there isn’t but it’s been so many years/decades of this now that that’s finally what I have to deal with, realization that there isn’t ever going to be any human connection in their thinking, they only want — what was that quote and did it land here or in the previous that I’d set into the Gottlieb file for now, that they put their foot on the earth in what I guess is the highland of Colombia and claimed it and that Saint Foy business is about their brain-serum selling aspirations, that that’s how they want to rule the earth, be the bigshots selling the “joy-juice,” have all control over that, but then in their MKUltra time it came through that that business by Albert Hofmann of lsd’s coming from manipulating ergot mold’s cellular composition is just untrue, that the MKUltra couldn’t run on that poison, it isn’t joy-juice, so where were they going to get the product in order to run the mind control program or what they thought they were doing, spreading the stuff around in its heyday while people still believed the Hofmann story, and I guess that, being from the Bronx, Gottlieb had “consorted” with the Melquiades-type-Ginsberg and the others for a thing under the Bronx there where I’d been recently enrolled into that P.S. 66 there between the apartment I was in and where the photograph was taken of 1171 Bryant Avenue, with the fraud-parent then recognized by me just in 2014, when I started trying to write to anyone about all this, etc:

From “The French Connection” account by Robin Moore, 1969, that had actually wound up in Brooklyn and the Bronx, etc.

This book is in the closed stacks downtown and I’ll have to go try to get a look at its index to see if Dr. Gottlieb is mentioned at all. This photo is all the Melquiades’-type “magic” and ritual-doing, like <– that big white blob there, that it signifies other things. So who can I get some letter off to today real quick on the new-titled gmail account that might go over better than the universerescue.attempt has so far. I guess I’m too disorganized to try anyone except Mr. K***** again, and I should do one a day to check see if there’ve been any responses because it isn’t tied to the cellphone to find out about otherwise. — Wrong; I’ll have to sign out first because when I’d signed up for the account yesterday I’d noticed a little something and wanted to try it with my name as Kathy instead of the Kathleen I’d started with yesterday, etc. — Dear Dr. K*****, I opened this new gmail account because my UniverseRescue.Attempt at gmail dot com hasn’t gotten any useful responses, doesn’t seem to be taken seriously, so I’d sent you a copy of the WordPress blog of mine with mainly this file I guess, which I’ve added to a little since then: https colon : // universerescuekathyfoshaywordpresscom dot . wordpress dot . com slash /testimonial/sidney-gottlieb-1918-bronx-1999-va/ and now since I’d mailed that I’m realizing that my personal difficulty with the so-called “French Connection” smuggling scam was likely thought up for supplying the MKULTRA, and that’s why I seem to be in this “ghost-prisoner” isolation vacuum increasingly for decades now, that I’m always trying to find assist out of from anyone as it’s also connected to the whole species and planet we’re on then, everything is tied-up into this situation that feed-lives off of “bothering” me 24/7/6 decades now. Your “Poisoner in Chief” book is unavailable to me right now, where I’d like to check to see what, also from the Bronx like me, Dr. Gottlieb was doing in late 1961-early 1962, if maybe he and A. Ginsberg had gotten some sideline together as a means of supplying the MKUltra and thence the whole global-system, that’s been thrive-living off of this plaguing of my tiny nobody girl self, etc. I’ve written to hundreds of people in Washington and now I find I’m stranded the same way in Houston, but able to keep the blog for trying to describe all this for the past 4 years. I don’t know what the system tells people that nobody’s ever allowed to speak with me normally about any of this. I’d written you that I found a figurehead for the brain-eaters in that 1967 story “One Hundred Years of Solitude’s” Melquiades character. Please try to get a phone call through to me if a reply gmail doesn’t work; (202) 459-8618, toward getting this all straightened out or else these “magicians” are going to cause the extinction of the whole earth. Sincerely, K.Foshay == at least it’s something, that nobody’d believe this quicksand-like situation I’m sitting in, the “magic” underworld bums’ constantly pulling on my chakra area/s to give the effect that I can’t hardly walk, had two of their stereotypes get around me with a scene of yelling that all over me the other day, — have to go do some ridiculous other thing where then the library that I’d gotten to despite all this pain had somehow got it on my account that I’d checked out two books instead of just the one that I’d had so now I’ll try calling them in lieu of having to go to their place and finding the other book on their shelf myself to get it off my account, just some little Melquiades-Jomon type standard difficulty “trick” the bums are always doing so that it’s like I’m in 24/7 Vietnam and being bombarded or sniped from who knows where next. I have to get that off my library account before I can request the Cliff’s Notes on the “One Hundred Years of Solitude.”

[from today, 1/16/20, Thurs.]

“They,” the system, the brain-harvesters, already played the trivial-seeming trick of having someone whisper-ask-interrupt me for assistance for themselves so that it skewed my thinking off of what I’m here trying finally to try to do, the guilt from telling the guy not to bother me, it’s always that trick with this “jew” that’s been doing this Armageddon Show off of and to me for nearly 3 decades now and it looks like what I’ve been calling merely the “French Connection” involvement of myself into the brain-serum trafficking was actually more like the MKUltra’s unofficial setting up its global brain-harvesting system, that it couldn’t be done with anyone’s lawful knowledge of such the thing. It’s probably the ugliest phrase that there is. I’d first heard it in 2004 and without using it have been trying to reach assistance that that is what all this is headed to, … etc.

Difficult unofficial “ghost-prisoner” situation for transient elderly female

Jan. 14, 2020; Dear Council Member G*******, District I,

I’ve long been alone with the worst situation in the world and now I’m stranded with “all this” in your area, near Broadway and Manchester Streets. All I can (afford to) do is go to libraries and try to keep my research a findings in a (free) blog, titled UniverseRescueKathyFoshayWordPressCom.WordPress.com. My latest finding is too terrible, is that the (and my) situation is all wrapped up with the infamous 1953-73 MKUltra “LSD/mind control” program, plus I’m afraid of all the different types of “authorities” and really just want to get myself to bringing my blog to near that “communications & intelligence” fort in Arizona for trying to get this all straightened out, which is more clear with that my next to latest research a finding is that the character in the 1967 story “One Hundred Years of Solitude” named Melquiades is a profile for the leaders of the lsd-making system, which comes from systematizing “brain-harvesting” and which it looks like they’d tricked the MKUltra program into, to try to describe it as simply as possible, me becoming indirectly involved into that as a 6-year old as I guess they’d used this Brooklyn and Bronx “French Connection” smuggling-scam as a supply-means. I’ve written hundreds if people about the “French Connection” since realizing about it in 2014 but hadn’t noticed it was linked to the MKUltra till now. I think it’s “ipso facto” or self-obvious that global-system brains harvesting devised by the likes of the sneaky Melquiades will end in species-genocide and I have to find a safe, quiet way out of this ghost-prisoner situation they’ve long Armageddon-LURE had me in. If you can’t assist please don’t do me any harm but if you can think of anything I could try please try giving me a telephone call or text, but somehow the system’s kept me in an isolation vacuum. Also, what all I’m trying to communicate includes about the dinosaur-extinctions and the 1969 moon-landing but it’s difficult to fit all these subjects into a note, etc. Sincerely, k. foshay 2024598618 (Also Lifeline said they might be turning off my cellphone service on Monday, Jan. 20.)