— WordPress, Underworld, None of this is for “tagging” for search-engines, please. —
Tracey A. Remus, editor, MIPB, ATZS-DST-B, Dir. of Doctrine and Intel Sys Trng, USAICoE, 550 Cibeque Street, Fort Huachuca, AZ 85613-017
8 July 2019, Dear Ms. Remus,
I hope you received my recent letter and the email I’ll send to follow-up on “all this.” I have a great deal of evidence that the system comes from insane people who are taking us to TOTAL PLANET EXTINCTION. Fifty years ago they got concrete evidence from the moon landing’s findings that they don’t have any or much connection with reality but they’re bluff-forcing their brain-eaters’ world-takeover onto the planet and doing so off of this lifetime-victimization of my little old-now self and I’ve tried everything to make a contact to get protection for myself and just learned about this “Infinite Jest” novel as a cover-up front for that they’d started doing this to me off of that circa 1978-80 Abscam LURE-operation, and then to nearly since I was born with that 1962 “French Connection” scam, that was really a cover-up ritual for their serotonin-trafficking, the system indirectly involving me in that and this is how they’ve been pulling off those “Armageddon” threats and they’re going to “Limitlessly/infinitely” keep going till the planet falls apart in order to get rid of themselves, some backwards-headed parasitic peoples united in brain-eating euphoria for themselves, is all, “‘retarded’ bums” just getting away with “the” unthinkable. I’d sent hundreds of letters around Washington and I can’t get assistance from anywhere, desperate to get out of this LURE now in Houston invisibly around and underneath me, and there’s something important in Arizona, the Mogollon Rim, that I’d like to go there to see because it has alot to do with the extinction of the dinosaurs, so I’m trying to see if “military intelligence” could get me some sort of witness protection or contact-assistance so I could stay alive and be able to continue working up this blog, to connect the dots between all these main aspects of this planeticide the bums are doing.
I have alot of subjects I haven’t been able to write down about in this blog and they’ve piled up to be too much as I’ve been waiting nearly 4 months merely for a copy of a “baby photo” of myself. The “invisible bums” with the “‘magic’ abilities” are causing the simple request not to be filled but it is so simple that it could be just a matter of a few days and be over with, except that I’m totally alone and these invisible forces are from insane planeticidists. The baby-photo is really from when I was 4 years old and a few days after it was taken, a whole regular set of photos by a photographer who’d come to the Bronx apartment, all of these lifetime-harassments of this “Infinite Jest” had begun as I’d been set up for another photo, but I can’t explain this in all these words, it would be so simple to show the picture just to show that I was merely a normal child that the system had started taking advantage of, leading to this end of the world that the bums are really “creating.” When/if I receive the copies of the picture it will be simple to show what I’m trying to explain, and then this Armageddon-making set had used me for that “heroin” -trafficking scam in 1961-62, by having me play with these suitcases that had stored the white powder:
In 2014 I’d run across this book and recognized the set of the 3 suitcases and then that the figure on the far right here is what I’ve since been calling my “fraud-parent,” me seeing here that he’d always been living some double-life, etc. The same fraud-relative that won’t send the baby-photo had once mentioned, in 1982, remembering that set of the old suitcases and could verify my claim, but I think this delay in sending the photos is a hope that some difficulty will come up so that instead she could just refuse all further communication with me, where I’m really the most desperate person that’s ever lived and am just left alone in this “ghost-prisonership” like this all these years, anything could be an assistance, but the Armageddon-making system-bums keep everyone away from me, it can’t be overexaggerated to describe how beneath-reality they are, how dangerous.
Some of my difficulties involve subjects around the military, like my time in it and 1 maybe 2 of the veterans’ groups and the various secretaries of the VA. There are maybe 20 to 100 of these large subjects that I’m trying to cover but I can’t survive much longer unless I get some sort of contact with a living person or another. I’ll probably try to start by making a list here of subjects that I should mention to anyone that would try to get me some protection from this invisible and unprovable torture. I used to call it “nonstop” all the time but then I’ve started to worry what the system thinks “nonstop” translates to and I’ve quit using the term but that’s really what it is, one thing after another 24/7/365 nonstop invisible-torture onto little me for 26 years now and as I look into how to get it off of me, and the planet, the human race, it looks like it’s been near-daily my entire life with one sort of a ritual trick after another toward using me for this Armageddon-Revelation and serotonin-trafficking business. Today I thought of some other things that had happened while I was growing up that likely go into all this set up and there’s not any telling what more might come up, but learning about this “Infinite Jest” novel has then given me a way to try to describe that that Abscam scandal was like a ritual for spreading pornography of me for use as a LURE by which the bums have been “disappearing” the normal males, have been sneak-doing the Armageddon off of me like that going back to maybe 1964 and more or less getting worse every year. I hope that you or someone you can assign this to will try to get this worked on. Again, I can manage to get out to Arizona, but I can’t survive without some contact on the other end when I get there, someone to assist me with finding a room. I’m 64 next month and I’ve been on portable oxygen tanks for about a year now, arrangements would have to be made or this invisible-torture would suffocate me till I was in a hospital which is like their favorite thing, where they love to do this “Infinite Jest” -LURE. To lure humans is a sub-human concept, nothing valid about it, and then they “sit on” normal people’s attempts to get this all straightened out so the planet could be running naturally again, i.e., toward infinity instead of against it.
I have to keep working on some of these subjects, most notably that of the namesake for the street I’d started growing up on in the Bronx, Longfellow Avenue. It seems that Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was a big operator toward all this Armageddon.
That reminds me that I’ve had a big problem with having tried to get assistance from Freedom Alliance, the group run by Oliver North, that it seems that it was dangerous for me to try to get attention from that group circa 2013-15 and I hope that trying to contact “milint” isn’t going to be similar, where I’d started getting hospitalized alot. In fact probably alot of your milint types are his type, look like him, having spotted some photos of the base bigwigs. I’m trying to separate Prehistory-happenings with then how the system has made serotonin into a way of life -seeming thing, that the system-people had wanted to live by manufacturing and selling the feel-good “drug” but in 1969 they got to the moon and space isn’t anything like they’d thought it was, they are out of touch with reality and won’t admit that and quit living off of this LURE off of me and it doesn’t have anything to do with all the nowadays-people who have come under the system’s spell of what is and isn’t okay.
I should have, in the email I just sent, Monday at 2:30, asked you to mention if you have specific subjects you’d have questions about pertaining to what I’m trying to do.
Since I’m trying to write to “Intelligence” to get assistance away from the planeticide, I think it would be simple fair use that I could include a copy of that Picasso painting, “The Kiss” because it describes this situation very well. I’m unprepared right here right now to go into all of it but it’s so relevant that perhaps anything is better than nothing.
Similar to that is the “Victoria and Abdul” ludicrous version of reality that seems also to be interconnected into all this with Victoria being run by the system and her ovaries taken toward making many people like myself for instance.
That runs into this subject of that I’d gotten hit by a car in 2015, right after getting a chance to get onto a computer terminal and I’d started trying to make contact with anyone and had signed up for 2 of the social media but after the accident haven’t had time to be able to get back to those until now and as I’m preparing to try to use the Facebook account it occurs to me that perhaps it has that signature-type blue bar as a “sign” that they want the use of the site kept clean from prurient things, and thence to that maybe I’d been hit with the car because of this hidden-camera “Infinite Jest” lethal cartridge pornography gimmick the system’s been running all these decades off of me, that I with that wasn’t wanted on their site, but I didn’t know anything about this, only suspected it from the many years of this ostracism. Now I’m hesitating to try to start using the site because I don’t want to dirty anything for anyone, even if I don’t really have anything to do with that, that I was victimized unbeknownst to myself, that, regardless, I don’t want to bother them, but maybe I could just use some advice and encouragement to go ahead and try to repair the little account there. What happened to me after the car-hit is that I was taken by an ambulance then unconscious to somewhere
— I had to quit right there because of one of these nonstop “tricks” the system is always doing for its Armageddon Program part of the LURE.
It was the same trick now as had caused me to leave this photo on the front page here on Saturday, which the “bums” will claim is illegal/wrongful for me to do, even though they’re the worst thing possible any infraction on my part is Armageddon-making excuse by which they’ve been “disappearing” the normal males and females, etc. Then while I was gone there was a barrage of at least 5 of the sneaky “tricks,” the sort of gratuitous horror that makes it impossible for me to try to do anything, to function. This business with the Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, in the phony big long “Hiawatha” poem or poem-story he’d written the subject of “Manabozho” comes up, some trickster in the Iroquois culture and I’m thinking it might stand for the attitude that “Man is a bozo,” a fool, and so it’s a big laugh to trick us into running off of cliffs and being holocausted in such “hee-haw” amusing -type ways, attitude the system hasn’t grown out of from its peoples’ prehistoric developmentally-injured days, everything’s a joke, no cause for alarm, they have everything under control it seems they tell recipients of these begging-letters, begging for assistance, that I send.
Now that I’ve gotten a copy of it here I’m not really prepared to go into the details about its connections. I’m trying to describe that this depicted guy and the one on the bookcover photo above are from this same “Jomon” I’ve been calling them, “race” behind trying to do this world-takeover on a planet that wasn’t meant to be taken over, that they’re going against all nature and won’t quit 50 years after they got proof-positive that their thinking is out of whack with reality. In this painting I’m thinking that it’s like the “Infinite Jest” lethal video cartridge of the Abscam et al. hidden-camera pornography of me. Bear with me while I jump to something ostensibly unrelated, try to:
I suspect but can’t prove, haven’t been able to study this enough yet either, that here she’s trying to describe that the sultan’s equipment is too small. There might have been an attempt to force women to give sex to all the strange invaders. I don’t think we know what’s really been going on in history and prehistory and it seems likely that these guys might have just said that they want some too, and here she’s trying to explain that it isn’t a good idea for herself, might be what’s going on, in this Borgia apartments painting or fresco at the Vatican. It could be that since she’d insulted him in public in front of so many people like that that his type wants a vengeance of insulting her type back, is one way I’d wound up in this personal horror that I’m trying to explain is a planetary or a species’ horror. In that same sort of subject the one pictured above on the book cover, one with that sort of face, had raped me in 1983 and their type is all over me invisibly all day long every day and playing these “tricks” and I don’t ever know when it might have that happen to me since I know they’re not beneath that at all, that the 1983 stranger had been really practiced at doing that, like it was a common thing he knew how to do, pinning me down so that I couldn’t move at all, squirm to get away or anything. I couldn’t imagine why he’d want to do that to a little person like me but it seems that there is this whole secret world where they get ovae and their stock markets revolve around getting ovae for growing fertilizations — and I can hear the moron noise from this stereotype outside the library on the street, they’re always making these “Jurassic Park” noises to the vehicle noises, doing roars over the engine sounds and vibrations. This book cover subject was a consultant on the film, is said to have inspired the film. I don’t know anything about them but this morning I did recall one person that’s from their general type that I’ve been calling the “Jomon” recently, that had been around me a little when I was babysitting for his girlfriend, that alot of this might have been extrapolated from, while Abscam’s Mel Weinberg was here in Texas as this global-system and Armageddon were being worked up.
Then the person I recalled about this morning I guess is actually of the same type of these “Jomon” people as one of the doctors I’d been stationed with other in Germany, Stuart K. Goldstein I think was his name and how it was spelled. I can’t recall his specialty and it’s possible it was gynecology. But there was another one there at that same, Baumholder, location that had done a gyn procedure on me (Dr. Dodson,) and taken a pap smear and in retrospect I recognize that I’d been in a set up there, to do with the guy I’d been going with that was a set up, as nearly anyone I seem to have known was either a “plant” or became one as the system approached them about doing these sabotages of me.
I’d have to put a proper credit line to this mosaic from Washington’s NSIC but real quick I think it’s relevant that the stereotype Dr. Goldstein is from might be connected to the pope during WWII. There’s another inter-connection with a scene I’d witnessed where he’d seemed to be worshipping this big blonde married nurse similar to this mosaic here.
I likely wouldn’t be able to live through another winter without assistance, is a big reason I’m trying to get assistance through you, where it doesn’t look like anyone in Houston would assist me and I’ve already tried everything I could think of in Washington, and I only have that one fraud-sibling that won’t even send me a copy of that photo-set of my own self, and really I’m afraid of her. Along with Oliver North at that time she might have had to do with — the way that the phony “magic” works, the “guardian angels” the system manufactures, that they hurt me out here based on what they feel like hearing of stray thoughts from others.
9 July; About that bookcover paleontologist, there was a student in his books that is the same stereotype as the “girl” that this Armageddon Show/Program/-making has all along, since 1992-93, been accusing me of being jealous of, as ostensibly why I’m being tortured like this, but this library doesn’t have the book or 2 that she’s pictured in, just a sweet, nice girl. I think it’s his second book that he has a picture of his wife but only from behind, her face isn’t visible. This being done to me lifelong now in retrospect is so peculiar that I’m thinking his wife (2nd I think,) might be from this stereotype from a girl in the main elementary school I’d gone to. This is such a “It’s a Small World After All” -system that I’m thinking that the main spaceship-entrepreneur nowadays might be “from” a boy who’d sat next to the girl in that elementary school. I’d written briefly to the Clinton Administration about the pair in January 1993. This “Armageddon Show” in my head and tricked me into writing to the new administration, sending a 5-1/4″ “The World Savers Club’s Inaugural Disk” to the White House. I think that my writing to them had clinched this making a LURE out of me, perhaps. On the disk I’d mentioned the jealousy accusation and said that if I was a jealous type I’d have been jealous of the little girl in elementary school. In retrospect I realize that I’d sort of walked into a mise-en-place in the classroom, the boy waiting to victimize me and the girl expected to be a jealousy figure, as somehow the system just preys off of setting up children for these bizarre “predestinations.” I’ll try to cover that little business when I get to after-the French Connection, then in 1963, but the paleontologist is a big real subject. When I got onto computer in Sept. 2015 I’d looked him up thinking he’s a big hero for paleontology and there was a whole identity-switch! some entirely different person was being called by his name and job-situation. I hadn’t any idea what to make of that, it was horrifying to see this and I’d tried to figure how it could be possible to identity-replace someone who had a wife and an ex-wife and at least one child, not to mention colleagues, and now in retrospect I figure it was some hoax but that his wife must have been somehow playing along, and that’s led to thought that maybe she’s from the stereotype of the odd girl in elementary school and she I think might be descended from the sitter for the Mona Lisa portrait, by Leonardo da Vinci. Somehow the system has kept tabs on all their “growths” by the disembodied-ovaries method and we live in their “book of life” family nepotism-run global-society really. In elementary school I’d been expected to be jealous of the girl mostly because she had the nicest clothes, nearly a different dress any day, that by making a big dichotomy like that the system-people assume an impoverished or neglected person is going to be envious, is how this insane thinking goes and their thinking is everywhere anymore. — With the other paleontologist I mentioned, pictured, the one named Perle, he’s from a big stereotype and I’d gotten involved with one in 1985-86 winter. In retrospect nearly any involvement I’ve ever had has been a set up and I’m sure that this one was that pattern, a big curse set up.
Besides that I’ve been trying to look into some things in Arizona, and there are alot of observatories there. I’m real serious about the “universe’s” requiring to be rescued, that this parasitic system is making biology impossible to have, you can’t evolve victims for the monsters and they won’t be anything except monsters, there isn’t any “dealing” with whatever these insane Armageddon-global-system brain-eaters are, except, as I’ve been trying to get them to deal with that they could only be gotten around if people were informed of their existence, the existence of the “Autism” that I’m mostly trying to get explained and worked on for getting it off of us, getting them off of other people so that there could be life. Since I’ve had zero “luck” trying to find anyone else that could or would try to work with me toward the universe’s benefit, (the real universe, not whatever the system has twisted the word to seem to mean, etc.,) I’m thinking that trying to contact people through observatories’ getting these letters that I write in trying to find assistance sounds like a thing to try to do, that I might find anyone that comprehends what I’m trying to talk about through writing to observatories and Arizona has quite a few, so I’d be looking to try that approach but of course I can’t even survive unless first I could find some sort of a contact that would work as thereby any form of protection for tiny old and frail anymore me, hence the trying to write to you.
— Similar to the paleontologists is a theme on astronomy I haven’t been able to try to describe to anybody yet that I’ll get to soon.
July 11, Thursday. It’s worse than that, more like they run astronomy and have likely been doing so off of this LURE off of me since at least 1995, astronomy. Michel Mayor seems to be the name of the leader and of course he’d not be aware in any way of this pornography-LURE let alone little nobody me, etc. I’d had to pick up a book yesterday and while at the downtown library had gone to try to look into this “exoplanets” business I’m suspicious of and came across photos of this Geneva astronomer Michel Mayor. This is so “Small World” interconnected that his last name might be connected to (the late) Mayor for Life Marion Barry of DC, really, through all this Armageddon-Revelation-world takeover -LURE that happens to have been running off of me virtually back to 1964. On the way to here today they got all over me with their stereotypes for their Armgeddon-ritual of “growing people for groceries” via their phony ethnic cultures. I’ll be having to try to look up about Dr. Mayor, and what I’d seen yesterday, in a book by Donald Goldsmith, is that it looks as though Dr. Mayor, likely descended-offspring from rocket science prime-mover Konstantin Tsiolkovsky, might have been the fertilizer for the duo at SFSU, San Francisco State University, that around 1995-96 had begun like a spree of finding exoplanets, but since 2015 when I’d gone to look up about them for this “Universe rescue” real purpose, I’ve been suspicious that there’s connection between them at SFSU where I’d been enrolled from 1979-1982 but didn’t graduate, between their exoplanet discoveries and this pornography-based LURE of humans to oblivion off of me. That’s alot of potential slander so that’s why I’d had to try to reach milint — and don’t forget, please, don’t underguesstimate, that me in the Bronx in 1973 might only have gotten the idea to join the Army because this breed of Armageddon-parasites had wanted a gimmick for infiltrating the military with pornography as a front for that, like the Trojan horse scam. There are 2 high-placed VA-people who are from one of their main orc-stereotypes, if you would account the difficulty in describing dangerous psychopaths I’m all surrounded by, that wbich I call the system’s Krakow-based “staircase #1 type.”
The book I’d gone to the library for also seems to be an evidence-bit for how the system’s been forwarding its Armageddon. Maybe milint had some involvement in this business about (the late) David Foster Wallace. I got one of the books he’d written and it’s on the rap music “wave” or phenomena or whatever the word is for a new thing back then, genre. Through writing that (brilliant) book or treatise maybe it is, Wallace might have gotten underworld-targeted by a rap artist that I believe was “offspring-descended,” or “grown” from the fraud-parent that I’d had, who by the way just allegedly passed last December, having been birthed in 1933, passed at age 85 from his longtime house that’s right approximately behind where Greenhaven prison is in Dutchess County, NY, which seems suspicious to me because the main “French Connection” operative had gone to Greenhaven, Mr. F. then moving up to there in 1974 (after the latter had been released) and that’s when rap music began in the Bronx, where Mr. F. still worked as a subway supervisor.
“DMC,” Darryl McD., in the middle there looks to me like the fraud-parent I’d had, “Mr. F.” mentioned above. This is another subject I haven’t been able to bring up until now I’d wound up trying to reach milint, nothing else having gotten anywhere and me likely to pass soon from all this invisible-torture. Under the Bronx there was alot of this illicit “growing” of people and then they were funneled to doing this type of music because these “Jomon” or “Ghent Altarpiece” stereotype of people like Drs. Mayor and Tsiolkovsky and all whoever else, have had sort of a “drugs, sex and music!” is the Limitless and smart way to live and enjoy life, child-developmentally disabledish perspective, that getting high regardless of the disgustingness of how it seems to be eating brain of other people, and orgasming and enjoying music is the way to live, and the “others” of the human race are morons, perspective they have, thence “growing” their Armageddon-armies for their better-people’s world-takeover, but they’ve been doing it by lifetime-torturing tiny me! etc. — Leon Trotsky had in 1918 lived about 2 blocks from “the French Connection” Longfellow Avenue neighborhood in the Bronx, on Vyse Avenue or 172nd Street I think I’d come across recently, that he’d recalled it wrong but Mrs. Trotsky had found them a place at that location. While it was near Longfellow it might have also been near Bryant Avenue but maybe 5-6 blocks from where the photo was taken, I’ll try to look it up again sometime. My thought here is that when DF Wallace and his roommate’s book on rap was published in 1990 that that might have been an excuse for causing him underworld problems from this “D Mc.” guy that I think had “come from” my “French Connection” fraud-parent, the whole thing sort of on-purpose for the various Armageddon inter-connected motives, that there was some sort of inter-action between Wallace and an angry D. Mc., not liking Wallace’s writing about rap and causing violence, but I of course can’t guess if it was all this invisible and unprovable type of vengeance or if Wallace had actually met this guy in any underworld. On that line that “bandana” he’d characteristically worn is really probably actually a bandage from head injury tortures he was receiving. I’d read that he’d started wearing that in Tucson because of the heat and then had just continued it but that’s likely a cover-up story.
I have to move along to trying to do some other things since I don’t even know if I’ve gotten anyone’s attention except these usual invisible Armageddon-making parasites’, so I’ll just mention that, with the above 2 horror-sets, there’s also the photo of Jimmy Carter with the Lubavitcher rabbi lighting the candles outside the White House, that situation-set likely is a partner with these 2 other parts of how these insane “Ghent Altarpiece” brain-eaters are bringing us to TOTAL PLANET EXTINCTION. Mayor’s type has probably just been “sitting on” the information about the exoplanets for the purpose of keeping “the others” of people ignorant, that Mayor’s type had likely learned of exoplanets from the long-ago library at Alexandria information, that people had known about astronomy back then…. When this “Armageddon Show” invisible business had been started onto me, about 3 weeks into that, in March 1993, I’d told/thought-said to these invisibles that for all this invisible torture I wanted a planet of my own as a or the payback, me assuming that there are more planets than just these first 9 to be discovered and I wanted one of the yet to be discovered ones for my, my spirit’s, personal uses. Then I’m looking into exoplanets now and it’s said that Dr. Mayor had started finding them in 1995 and then the SFSU duo began finding alot of them and then on with that it’s gone. In 2000 it came up that I wouldn’t be able to get a B.A. unless I fulfilled a requirement for a simple Speech class and I’d had to take that one class at SFSU to do that and the instructor had really not wanted to give me a credit out of a Credit/No Credit sign-up I’d made for the required course, despite that I’d attended all the sessions and done all the work and in retrospect I’m figuring that his disliking to giving me a passing credit is connected to all this lifetime of abuse of being lied about behind my back that the “Jomon” stereotype has been doing and running this on. To give me a passing grade would be “signifying” that I’m just a normal person and that would run counter to the lies that the LURE that the system uses for running itself lives off of. By the way, my 3 speeches were done on the subject of Mongolia, because that’s where I think the system emanates out of, is hiding in waiting for its Armageddon to be done so they can emerge, that the system’s long been based under Siber-there, out toward Lake Baikal, that they’d found while trekking back and forth from the New World.
Also I’m thinking that that Tonto National Forest park area’s pine trees might have been mass-planeted for cover-up of dinosaur and other megafaunas’ being mass-game drive cliff-run there off of the Mogollon Rim. There isn’t really evidence but like I’m trying to point out with this business about Dr. Mayor and the sudden profusion of exoplanets, that we’ve got insane people both covering-up reality and inventing stories to replace it by. I hope I’m reaching someone because I can’t just keep sitting here in this LURE-situation and ugliness always all over around me all the time, “nonstop doo-doo” I’ve been living in all these 26 years of this “Armageddon Show” and I’m just here in a vacuum with all this filth all over me, and this is how the global-system enables itself.
— “Now they’re” doing something to that social media account I’ve got. I’d checked again the gmail to see if that fraud-sister had sent those baby photos I’d requested 4 months ago and I noticed that this local Space Center had unusually sent something and done so through the social media so I called up the social media and it’s saying that something is wrong at the site, that it can’t be reached right now, so it would seem that that might be connected with the Space Center somehow, and that’s real LURE-scary for me, that this system just does whatever it wants to off of twisting my life to their Armageddon-interests. The Space Center isn’t far from here. Come to think of it there’d been idea-of-references to the buses out to there, by this sneaky “Jomon’s” Vulcan side of being transportation-czar. I use this painting off the dome of the Capitol building for description-illustation:
Then I’m saying Dr. Mayor is of this same stereotype/genotype:
After earning a master’s degree in Physics at the University of Lausanne in 1966, Mayor obtained his doctorate in Astronomy at the Geneva Observatory in 1971. His thesis included an “Essay on the kinematical properties of stars in the solar vicinity: possible relation with the galactic spiral structure.”
He studied briefly at the University of Cambridge Institute of Astronomy and spent sabbatical semesters at the European Southern Observatory (ESO) in Chile and at the Institute for Astronomy of the University of Hawaii.
From 1971-84, Mayor worked as a research associate at the Observatory of Geneva, which is home to the astronomy department of the University of Geneva. He became an associate professor at the university in 1984. In 1988, the university named him a full professor, a position he held until his retirement in 2007. Mayor was director of the Observatory of Geneva from 1998 to 2004. He has been professor emeritus at the University of Geneva since 2007.
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Mayor’s research interests include extrasolar planets (also known as exoplanets), instrumentation, statistical properties of double stars, globular cluster dynamics, galactic structure and kinematics.
His doctoral thesis at the University of Geneva was devoted to the search for evidence of a spiral structure in the Milky Way galaxy in the velocity distribution of stars close to the Sun. Kinematics data at that time were scarce and in particular acquiring the “radial velocities” of stars was a long and fastidious process. Upon completing his thesis, Mayor decided to develop a special spectrograph, CORAVEL, to measure stellar radial velocity. “This was the start of my interest in stellar kinematics,” he said, according to information in his curriculum vitae.
This research led to various fields of interest, including the study of statistical characteristics of solar-type binary stars. With fellow researcher Antoine Duquennoy, he conducted a survey of small-mass companions of stars analogous to the sun, releasing the results in one of the most cited papers published by Astronomy and Astrophysics during its first 40 years. Mayor and Duquennoy then discovered that the mass of some of these companions could be sub-stellar.
The evolution of technology allowed for the development of a new spectrograph, ELODIE, built at the Haute-Provence Observatory in the south of France. Mayor and Didier Queloz, a graduate student at the University of Geneva, began using the instrument in 1994 to measure night after night 140 stars similar to the Sun. The study was aimed at discovering “brown dwarfs“, as well as giant planets.
At the end of 1994, the pair noted that the star 51 Pegasi showed a periodic variation or movement that could be caused by the orbit of a planet smaller in size than Jupiter. Remarkably, the orbital period appeared to be only 4.2 days, which contradicted what was then believed to be theoretically possible. However, further data allowed Mayor and Queloz to announce the discovery of the first exoplanet orbiting a sun-like star on 6 October 1995.
Thus began a new field of research in astronomy. As of early October 2011, researchers around the world had discovered more than 680 exoplanets, many of them large so-called “hot Jupiters”, gaseous planets many times the size of earth. Mayor and his collaborators have identified around 200. However, his team has concentrated its research on smaller planets, “super-earths”, closer in mass to Earth. In 2003, his latest planet searching instrument, the High Accuracy Radial Velocity Planet Searcher (HARPS), came online at the European Southern Observatory (ESO)’s telescope at La Silla Observatory in Chile, allowing for more precise measurements of radial velocities.
By October 2011, Mayor had co-authored more than 700 scientific publications. From 1989-92 he was involved in scientific research at ESO, from 1988 until 1991 he worked on the study of galactic structure with the International Astronomical Union. From 1990-93 he was president of the Swiss Society for Astrophysics and Astronomy.
Awards and distinctions
In August 1998, Mayor was awarded the Swiss Marcel Benoist Prize in recognition of his work and its significance for human life. As of 2003, he was a member of the board of trustees. He received the Prix Jules Janssen from the Société astronomique de France (French Astronomical Society) in 1998.
In 2000, he was awarded the Balzan Prize. Four years later, he was awarded the Albert Einstein Medal. In 2005, he received the Shaw Prize in Astronomy, along with American astrophysicist Geoffrey Marcy. Mayor was made a knight of the French Legion d’Honneur in 2004.
In collaboration with Pierre-Yves Frei, Mayor wrote a book in French called Les Nouveaux mondes du Cosmos (Seuil, 260 pages), which was awarded the Livre de l’astronomie 2001 prize by the 17th Astronomy Festival Haute Maurienne, (France).
Mayor has received honorary doctorate degrees from eight universities: Katholieke Universiteit Leuven (Belgium), 2001; Swiss Federal Institute of Technology at Lausanne (EPFL) (2002); Federal University of Rio Grande do Norte (Brazil), 2006; Uppsala University (Sweden), 2007; Paris Observatory (France), 2008; Université Libre de Bruxelles (Belgium), 2009; University of Provence (Marseille, France), 2011, Université Joseph Fourier (Grenoble, France), 2014;.
Mayor has received the 2011 BBVA Foundation Frontiers of Knowledge Award of Basic Sciences (together with his former student Didier Queloz) for developing new astronomical instruments and experimental techniques that led to the first observation of planets around Sun-like stars.
Participation in professional associations
- Publisher and organizer of nine Saas-Fee Advanced Courses of the Swiss Society of Astrophysics and Astronomy
- Member of the editorial board of Europhysics News, 1985–90
- Swiss delegate for the European Space Agency (ESA)’s Astronomical Working Group, 1985–87
- President of the International Astronomical Union (IAU)’s Commission 33 on the “Structure and dynamics of the galactic system, 1988–91
- Chairman of the European Southern Observatory‘s Scientific Technical Committee, 1990–92
- President of the Swiss Society of Astrophysics and Astronomy (SSAA), 1990–1993
- Member of the organizing committee of the IAU Commission on Bioastronomy, 1997–2003
- Swiss delegate to the European Southern Observatory (ESO) Council, 2003–07
- President of the IAU commission on extra-solar planets, 2006–09
- Member of the European Academy of Sciences, 2004
- Foreign Associate of the French Academy of Sciences (Académie des sciences), 2003
- Honorary Fellow of the Royal Astronomical Society (UK), 2008
- Foreign member of the National Academy of Sciences (US), 2010
- Foreign member of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences, 2010
- “Viktor Ambartsumian International Prize”. Vaprize.sci.am. 18 July 2014. Retrieved 26 March 2017.
- Michel Mayor profile & Didier Queloz (1995). “A Jupiter-mass companion to a solar-type star”. Nature. 378 (6555): 355–59. Bibcode:1995Natur.378..355M. doi:10.1038/378355a0.
- Multiplicity among solar-type stars in the solar neighbourhood. II. Distribution of the orbital elements in an unbiased sample. (Astronomy & Astrophysics, 248, 485. Duquennoy, A., Mayor, M. (1991)
- Seth Borenstein (25 April 2007). “Red dwarf is mother to an Earth-like planet”. The Sydney Morning Herald. Associated Press. Retrieved 17 March 2009.
- Mayor; et al. (2009). “The HARPS search for southern extra-solar planets,XVIII. An Earth-mass planet in the GJ 581 planetary system”(PDF). Astronomy and Astrophysics. arXiv:0906.2780. Bibcode:2009A&A…507..487M. doi:10.1051/0004-6361/200912172. Archived from the original(PDF) on 2009-05-21.
- “Starmus Festival and Stephen Hawking Launch the Book ‘Starmus, 50 Years of Man in Space‘“. Prnewswire.co.uk. UK. 7 September 2014. Retrieved 26 March 2017.
- Overbye, Dennis (12 May 2013). “Finder of New Worlds”. New York Times. Retrieved 13 May 2014.
- “Winners of the 2015 awards, medals and prizes – full details”. Ras.org.uk. Retrieved 26 March 2017.
- Jerusalempost Wolf Prizes 2017, jpost.com; accessed 26 March 2017.
Laureates of the Wolf Prize in Physics
— HARPS consortium planet search survey
Charles-Louis de Saulces de Freycinet
shawprize . org/en/shaw.php?tmp=3&twoid=52&threeid=64&fourid=112&fiveid=27 == This photo reminds me of one of Michael K. Deaver’s, that Reagan aide that I believe had then gone, after quitting, into connecting the DC homeless shelter with Saudi business, that friend of Nancy’s business, that ambassador-prince, Nancy got Deaver about half a million dollars to work for the prince and Deaver spent 16 years doing volunteer work at the DC homeless shelter, passing of pancreatic cancer allegedly in 2007, overlapping when I’d arrived there in 2005 and been shuttled to a side-shelter on D Street, the John L. Young shelter; then I’d been stranded there for 10 years, writing letters like these as I gather evidence that “these bums” are forcing us to TOTAL PLANET EXTINCTION. Mr. Deaver’s wife might be one of many of the dangerous types to myself, as I’d seen some odd lady or 2 spooking around me just before the car-hit that in retrospect might have been referencing her and all this curse-demimonde from the Jomon-type, like Tsiolkovsky, which I think goes back to King Kazimir, sp., of Krakow and before that back to Siber-Mongolia and before that to either an isolated development on Japan or maybe they are the type that had forced their way over to the New World in way-prehistory and extincted the dinosaurs, and been on a rampage ever since, but I tend to think they’d evolved on Japan, then running into the longlost New World-developed “Autists,” etc., that I’ve been thinking of as being that “Anthony-type.” I did a teeny bit yesterday in getting a page-copy that is connected to that, but this is too many different subjects, makes it difficult for a stranger to follow, plus there are all the various kinds of privacy and copyright restrictions and my biggest restriction of being in this personal “emergency” situation all the time, that mostly I’m supposed to be looking for a way out of this. I have to try to get a desk to sit at, the system’s never let me have any continuity to be organized toward accomplishing anything. Mostly what I could use is anyone to speak-contact with me so I could get the biochemical-energy going toward doing something about that I can’t yet get that little photo from my fraud-sister and it would have simplified all this explicating I have to do if I could have just shown by the photo of the photo that I was just a normal baby and got besieged by these under-the-Bronx brain-eating world-takeover headed “Jomon” types who seem to have been following my every day of my life since I left there in 1973, etc.
— This same piece by Mayor with the Deaver-like photo, it’s written in 2005 and ends with that maybe in 2 or 3 decades we’ll start to get answers to the question of plurality of life, him capitalizing the word universe for where there might be plurality of life…. — these “bums” won’t leave Earthlings alone for their to ever become any plurality of life and they overlook all their “disappearances” of us by this phenomena of the “Limitless” self-feeling that they get from their way of living of getting secretly high off of serotonin that belongs to other Earthlings, leave them alone first; they ignore that, they don’t have anywhere in their brains for comprehension of what I’m saying, they just smile and continue doing what all they’re doing and they’re doing it off of me, specifically for a micro-example of the modus operandi.
www . youtube . com/watch?v=el4tQBXBQ_k = a 2015 lecture. I guess I could point out that I think he looks alot like the A.G. Bell type too by the way, “Michel-/him-kill-angelos” Buonarroti, and I’ve barely started looking into this Cambridge-Harvard H.W. Longfellow.
check science journalist Marc Kaufman.
check maybe there’s something wrong with Stueckelberg (maybe killed and replaced, by a usurper-imposter type perhaps. One of Mayor’s mentors.)
These “book of life” types are so well inter-organized anymore.
Here’s a quote that his original partner Queloz is also expecting “life” to be found out in the universe someday, all ignoring that this is the biology-producing gem and they’re killing it all day long every day by the secret people-manufacturing underworld, (that lives off of me, specifically.) This trying to learn about Mayor now is expected to lead into the 2 SFSU guys. Alot of that exoplanet-discovery time might have been combined with that I’d gotten stranded, similar to now and in Washington, from 1995 to Oct. 2000 in the Mission Hotel at 16th Street and South Van Ness Avenue in San Francisco. I haven’t been able to look into much of that possible correlation there yet but it’s pretty obvious. It’s “pretty obvious” in the way that it’s pretty obvious that there’s some inter-connection with this rap book by DF Wallace and my time in Queens, NY and that the current chief Administrator came from there, that all 3 likely have this D. Mc in the middle there, in common.
The “Jomon” like Mayor and Tsiolkovsky, Allen Ginsberg, lots of writers from the Bronx, on and on with their “family” of their many many subsets that they’ve been “creating,” they seem to have, from the “staircase #3” type, the people or line of people like the fraud-parent, Mr. F. for Foshay though I’m still leery of bringing up the name because I’m afraid the baby picture I’m waiting for would be getting withheld from me for mentioning that family I’d grown up with, that the “Jomon” from the Ghent Altarpiece most notably, they use these “staircase types” from Krakow’s Wawel Castle and King Kazimir/Casimir the Great the III, as a “protection” force for themselves, like their jailers and security guards under and over the ground, that Mr. Foshay is of that type and I’m reading this rap book because I suspect Wallace had been “strong-armed” over making some mere error, and this guy pictured in the middle is from there in Queens where I’d just gotten to when the guy on the right on that book cover got assassinated, Jam Master Jay Mizell (1965-2002,) and then the new Administrator came from some little walking distance from that same area where I’d been for awhile then and always inadvertantly carrying around this “Armageddon Show/Program/-making,” and all those subjects seem to be “swirl-morphed” together, like brewhaha the brain-eaters’ “magic” works, toward their Armageddon. In fact I also have to look up about the guy on the left, Run’s, brother, Russell Simmons, that he’d come up relatively alot in this rap book by Wallace and Marc Costello his roommate, that he was the founder of a label called Def Jam records, and all this with computers and everything goes back to A.G. Bell of the telephones and he’d written some essay that the human race might should propagate people with deafness on purpose, A Deaf Variety of the human race maybe he’d titled it, so I’m thinking that not just with Wallace but in general this Russell “Rush” Simmons comes up alot and I ought to see what the search-engine gives on him. Plus, one time I’d folded that book cover picture in such a way that the guys on the left and right’s faces were together and noticed that surprisingly they look nearly identical. Then also it’s very important that the one in the middle is some whole different person for a long time now. That 2005 book might have used an old photo in fact. Around 1990 they say that Darryl Mc. had started becoming depressed and odd-behaving, me thinking there are inter-connections with what was going on with Wallace, and then the photos from 2000 on are of someone or someones else.
— It’s complicated, Russell Simmons and Rick Rubin, too complicated for me. Their word “def” has to do with danceability and such somehow but it got taken into standardized dictionaries somehow so they dropped it. That main song of the Run-DMC group sounds like a big LURE song to me, their doing “Walk This Way” with Aerosmith, that I really thing that that’s what they were doing all those years back then, this LURE-paradigm or methodology.
Mayor just seems to have been winning Prize after Prize and it seems how these “book of life” family-people keep their economics going, but it’s all based on parasitism and such. What should I try to look into with only 2 hours left for today now….
I tried to find a photo of Suze Rotolo for showing what the student of the paleontologist and the excuse for torturing me invisibly for jealousy look like but just realized that she’d passed 8 years ago. Poor little me, I think there’s also the aspect that her spelling for Susie, “Suze” and the “Rotolo” go together in trying to express that she’s of a type, like me, that object to grown males’ taking breast milk, which belongs to babies, that she’s, like, sues Rotolactor the cow milking-machine that was an exhibit at the 1939 World’s Fair in Queens, where Suze had been from. Before that I’m reading now, she’d had grandparents in Piacenza, which brings us back to what the system was doing in Renaissance days, that they’d had some big time there somehow, it was one of their cell-places.
— I think I’ve finally figured out now how to do “inactive links” by typing instead of pasting them to here but when sometimes I wholesale paste a Wikipedia article they’re likely full of links that somehow seem odd, that the system keeps track of links for excuses to then peer into your business, but you are normal and not looking to eat them alive or not or anything and they don’t comprehend the difference of their doing the opposite of that back onto you, with alot of these places that have come with this Mayor subject. I’d tried to come back and correct the way I’ve been doing this now that I’ve figured how to do it better but there’s too much of it just from today alone. And not any progress toward getting out of this “ghost-prisonership” invisible-torture and LURE set I’m in. I found something that will finish my day here in order to get it read, on this Signifying Rappers business. This 2013 edition of the 1990 book seems to leave out the 2 sections where the boys had made some sort of any error, where Costello had made a small misquote and where Wallace had left out the King of Rock album by Run-DMC in their “discography” I guess it is and the whole discography’s been dropped from the book, which I figure is a big sabotage to do. I’m reading a 2013 review that pans it and I don’t know why, I think it’s a brilliant attempt to deal with reality. Like, reality in real life on the precipice of extincting biology, what can a mere mortal make of this situation, and then criticize him (them) for it. I’m not sure what to think about the alleged passing of Wallace, for instance, that it’s possible it’s one of the “mind games” this system plays for depressing us humans, or about his co-author roommate friend, because offhand it seems the guy might be a stereotype of what I call the “Babar” type or Babars.
Friday, July 12, terrible torture
I have to type the list of subjects I’d like to get to, this being a short day, only 1-5 they’re open here:
Ginsberg at Leary’s house calling himself God, that that wasn’t “kidding.”
(from Virginia dot edu: In 1960, Allen Ginsberg, supervised by Leary, ingested psilocybin mushrooms, (under the influence of the drug, he phoned Jack Kerouac, identifying himself as God to the telephone operator), and began to spread the word about the new powerful psychedelic drugs. When Harvard dismissed Leary in 1963, he set up the Castalia Institute in Millbrook, New York, to continue his studies. Leary’s approach to taking LSD was the opposite of Ken Kesey’s—Leary believed in “set and setting,” a practice of taking the drug in a controlled environment, as a safeguard against bad trips. He coined the phrase “Turn On, Tune In, and Drop Out,” and formed the “League of Spiritual Discovery,” an LSD advocacy group. In the mid sixties, he began attending numerous musical events and public forums that promoted the use of LSD.)
ck White Hand Society biography in central library, peter conners, 2010
ck Walter Houston Clark, mortgaged house to bond leary, theologian
leary born springfield, his father a dentist. when his wife committed suicide and left him with the 2 kids, on sojourn to europe he met david mcClelland, director of center for personality research; richard alpert; peggy billy and tommy hitchcock, heirs to the mellon fortune, got them millbrook estate, dutchess county, 64 rooms 2400 acres, 5 years there (pop history dig dot com slash topics slash tag slash timothy-leary-allen-ginsberg slash)
add about the “Miss Foshay” trick ritual-phrase this Armageddon Program always is doing == that I think it’s for “missing” the fraud-parent offspring-descendant creations or maybe any of that whole bronx dynasty or what but it’s a terrible trick that it’s done for that reason and nothing to do with me, just to miss hitting or catching those types, a ritual for not bothering those. Time for me to sign out, only these 2 pieces got done today, above and below here.
Trotsky in the Bronx, what children had they brought with them == he and Natalya Sedova only brought 2 young boys; Lev Sedov, b. 1906, and Sergei Sedov b. March 21, 1908, (sergei = 8 or 9 year old in bronx in from january/feb. to may 1917, 18 dollars a month for 3 months that got stuck back into their baggage,) = I can’t find anything that looks like they were planting the “Allen Ginsberg et al. type ‘seeds'” there in that Bronx neighborhood where I then was, and that French Connection nearby.
2 eh nortons, carter’s and trump’s
sikhs under the Rockies, and that June 1962 natgraph article
Jim Jones = tt guy joel = lookalikes, idea of reference massacre
Geology prof = Carfagni-type
Future Crime book terrorization to me
satan/ism and in SF
the benson astronomy
ck houston for dfw
ck mogollon ppl, culture
ck sara – karen g.
ck amy wallace on the social medium
add ff coppola
ck where junior and lydia lived
Avril = avram and brill, 1986-87, ck jane avril
tt the time of yr life saroyan ritual = big trick
ck patty duke, janis joplin w tt ghent type
“resistance” ohms and what
God has certain languages, one of them is mathematics, and one of them is music.
—Wallace interviewed by Crain, C. in Burn, S (Ed.), Conversations with David Foster Wallace, p.124
— I found a copy of the first edition and just ordered it because I think cutting out the discography and maybe other differences sort of ruin this 2013 edition from being the whole that it had been, more or less. I’d noticed that there was one point where he’d mentioned the sort of “uniform” even that Run-DMC wore but without mentioning them by name and though I didn’t feel it was anything derogatory I’m not too opinionated anyway the first time I read anything, you have to wait till you reach the end to see what you think is how I generally figure, which is why the system’s surveys on anything is annoying, how should I know how I’ll like it, etc. It’s becoming annoying how often I have to use the word I when’m trying to describe things, this “suspended animation” syndrome all or most of this year, since the last time I was ill, with that slug-pneumonia. This morning I had all kinds of things in my head to bring here to try to get down onto the keyboard, mostly about maybe this Julius Martov. I guess I’d woken with them gloaming over my head that I’d woken sort of putting together this about Trotsky in the Bronx, around the corner and past the Bryant Avenue and then to Vyse Avenue, I’d spent the evening trying to figure who or what Vyse Avenue had been named after. Two blocks up the Longfellow Avenue I’d lived on there’s a place I’d never visited that now they’re calling Rock Garden Park. And Thomas A. and Eliza Vyse’s 93-acre farm’s mansion is said to have been named Rocklands, so I’d been trying to find if there’s a connection between wherever that “Lot 14/15” is located and the place mentioned in that “Howl” poem by Ginsberg, which I guess I’d have to look it up, something about, we were there with you at Rocklands, Carl Solomon, and Solomon is said to have been from the Bronx but I can nearly never get anymore specific addresses than that. But Trotsky comes into “all this” that I’m specifically dealing with in that he’s featured on that mural that’s mentioned in the “Limitless” novel. I have what would likely be called a “fixation” but I don’t use the word “fix” because these brain-eaters twist anything they can to be about getting, that for themselves. They just did an idea-of-reference yesterday when I went shopping after here last night, a scene about watermelon, that’s extremely bad if it’s thought about, which is what they pretty much only think about, the brain-eaters, that are sneaking their Armageddon ages-old Plan through off of myself. Etc. Then too there’s a subject of “grocery corporations” that I’d never heard of before and I noticed 2 or 3 while I was looking into things about this area of the Bronx. And some other things I can’t recall right now that I’m supposed to try to look up about. I’m having difficulty with paper and now with pens for being able to jot notes down that by the time I get into here these floating pieces are vanished. I should mention that I’m likely to try to make another contact at the fort in case, as usual, I don’t hear anything back on this attempt, as the harassments I go through are always forcing me to try to think how I can get assistance out of my position, the place I’m stranded in, etc.
It’s possible that these “Jomon/Allen Ginsberg types” that I figure come from
this type, had gone to Detroit via the St. Lawrence River route. I’d read about Martov awhile back and had found it difficult to believe he’d really passed as written.
The write-ups say that Mrs. Trotsky was from Romny, “Ukraine” I guess is generally stipulated, but there are 3 place named Romny and the other 2 are east nearly to Japan, east of where I figure the system has long been, and that Trotsky had met her when he was getting out of a Siberian labor camp, where those “labor camps” are likely the people-manufacturing system’s working their way out to over to here (to my figuring.) She was the 2nd Mrs. Trotsky, some sort of an adultery going on maybe, but the system’s so peculiar that there isn’t any point in taking anything one would think too seriously. I don’t think I really have time to spend too much on the pre-Revolution goings on but I’d seen a picture of Martov that had seemed similar to this belief I’ve got that the book of Revelation had come from this odd “St/e. Foy” business in Conques, France, so I could get lost in trying to find another copy of that picture, whether it was a sketch or maybe from an editorial cartoon I can’t be sure. It showed Martov and a big guy sitting throne-like in front of a barely-visible 3rd throne way up higher than they were, them like guards for that one maybe, but I guess after all my work was thrown away in 2014 when this “low oxygen” business had been started onto me, the hospitalizations for that, then the book I’d seen the picture in was gone from the library also so I couldn’t replace it, but if I did find it it would only be a start of trying to learn more about where and why it had come from like that, way into this old Russian and Soviet history, that doesn’t do anything for me getting out of this weekend’s LURE set up all over me or any of the other strange and horrible torture-things. But Coppola came from Detroit is where this thought that that’s where Martov might have “passed” at comes from, me trying to figure what all these — insane — people with this “Armageddon-director’s face,” like Ginsberg, had come from. Trotsky had said that he’d really liked his time in NY and had hoped to be able to return so my thought is that his political-associate would have been incented to try to get here also maybe. Also I’ve got a small suspicion that John Wilkes Booth had managed to abscond to a ship to over to St. Petersburg, and then maybe is genetically-connected to Trotsky, that all these dates and places have to be compared side-by-side.
15 July, “Universe Rescue” is not a gimmick, these insane stereotypers, brain-eaters, really are killing everything and won’t cease, don’t seem to have the “hardware” in the brain for anything except this what they’re doing for their world-takeover, the whole global-system off of sneaking around behind everybody else’s back, killing whoever disagrees with themselves.
Then, they live on me.
I’ll try to get back to whatever all I’m trying to do. Right now the thought is that “milint” doesn’t seem to be about to be bothered to dredge up any responsibly-behaving person toward making a real-life contact with little me out here, and I’ve made some progress with what I’d looked to try to get to the southwest for, that I’m figuring out some toward the Mogollon Rim but especially with the astronomy there’s been this great-leap in discovering about this Dr. Michel Mayor, that he’s one of these, as they’re also all over the part of the publishing industry that’s connected to these serotonin-connected in sneak-political-type, the “French Connection” by Robin Moore, 1969, the 1996 “Inifinite Jest” and then thr 1998 “The Dark Fields/Limitless” book, film, TV show, and then now I’m looking into the same group’s publishing of the 1990 “Signifying Rappers” in 2013 I think it is, that I’m reading right now, — and I’m waiting to hear if they’ll (also) send my request for a copy of that’s 1990 first printing, so see the differences, with the discography and one section or what else removed, for some teeny error. Maybe the thing is that his roommate was a “Babar,” that big stereotype, system-stereotype. I think alot of those came from that little 1920s Washington, DC, girl who’d just passed not long ago in Coral Gables, Florida; Billie Sathers maybe her name is. I’ll try to put the photo with her (inseminating I guess) uncle onto the Stereotypes section with the other “Babars” I’ve found little examples of, etc. Mrs. Surratt was likely the biggest one, wrongfully hung for the Lincoln assassination on purpose probably, big system set up.
Jim Jones was 1931, Presley 1935. I’d actally had the odd thought that the singer Phil Ochs might have faked his passing in order to come back up and play-out that role of the Jim Jones, that had happened right after I’d moved to San Francisco and now I realize there might have been a connection to that big error I’d made then, in 1978, trick-seduced by a guy that’d looked alot like Jones in retrospect, and then there was one as the president of that volunteer fire station in Kensington, MD, around that car-hit and shelter there in general, (NT Jones.)
6:27pm, I accidentally hit the X at the top on the tab and disappeared this UniverseRescue and had to call it back up again, that it disappeared without my signing out, which always makes me nervous that someone else has “caught” this site open, logged-into for editing or doing whatever. That’s always scared me. When I started it, circa August 2015, just before the car-hit in November 2015, I’d called it up a little incorrectly and the search-engine showed this UniverseRescuekathyfoshay and “Rock Star Coders” all over the place, I hadn’t any idea what that was and it really scared me that this is always being taken and worked on for use by the LURE.
This Gardiner Hubbard was very active in setting up the way things are nowadays. He did an enormous amount of work with deaf people and I’m thinking that that’s because they’ve set up deaf people to work with the human-slaughter that goes on under the ground. For instance, I’d passed by that main first school in Northampton and I think it’s part of what’s so scary about the whole area, where Smith College and the other colleges are, and then Amherst is in that set of the colleges all there; I was there last year briefly and hoping to be able to get back this year but I can’t do anything unless I can find a human to speak with, have contact with, have some normalcy, whereas I’m just in a scary vacuum all these years by myself. I haven’t written up about how spooky it was around Smith College, like the — actually, it goes with what I’ve been trying to explain about the area’s, North America’s, being infiltrated from the Siber-Mongolian base via the St. Lawrence River, that the system just shipped over lots of fertilized embryoes to be planted and grown as “tribes” all over the Great Lakes areas, that that’s the main source of all the eerieness up in Massachusetts, the beginning of that way. Then it’s like the area is run from under the ground by mostly or basically Asian peoples, sort of similar to the deafness subject. And then people like Hubbard and his son-in-law Alexander Graham Bell who looks descended from Michelangelo, him-kill-angelo, are fed and high and happy like we have it today. I’m looking into Gardiner Hubbard because I’m figuring his daughter Mabel must have been serotonin-dependent, that Bell had made sure of that because they have to make sure to get their supply. “Supply” is the main word or theme of that “Limitless/The Dark Fields” novel, that it’s all about how do you keep your supply going, what would Eddie Spinola think up to do about ensuring more of the “MDT-48.” I’m thinking that that’s a reason Bell would have wanted his wife to be dependent and I’m thinking she was because one of the people around David Foster Wallace was her, Mabel Gardiner Hubbard Bell’s, “type,” and I’d been stuck with one when I’d gone back to Washington after the car-hit, and then earlier there’d been that ambush in Tucson of Gabrielle Giffords and she’s of Mabel’s type also I’m pretty sure, should be sure by now, so much poured all over me and then I’m barely noticing any of it. Also there’s someone else that’s alive and could be mentioned but I don’t have anyone to speak with, which is why I’m trying to communicated with Ms. Remus, to get her to get some contact-person for reading this material and assist me in trying to navigate out of this extinction-bringing horror-abuse all over all my life.
This is a new photo of him, they must have just put it on the Wikipedia file or I’d have noticed it before. It doesn’t even look 1875-ish but it’s from the LOC, Library of Congress, which brings up that these guys were all Transcendentalists, including this Longfellow and his brother, Longfellow not too much specifically in that group but still, these are people who all believed they were superior to ordinary humans who didn’t know how to get high on brain of other people and I’m trying to point out that they’d expected to find a “plurality of worlds” when they got to space, they expected to find planets full of different kinds of biological cultures, a planet there with green people, one there with people who lived under bushes and one over there where they didn’t know how to fly yet but were trying, and these superior-Earthlings thought they’d all be having a ball shunning and eating the non-superior Earthlings, till 50 years ago they saw and could feel and examine the moon rocks and we’re the first biological planet. What I’m figuring happened is they’d destroyed all the civilization/s people had had started, they’ve got everybody raised like ignorant refugees like the “Autists” had been when they’d invaded from the New World after extincting the dinosaurs. In fact I’m thinking all those pine trees at Tonto National Forest were planted on purpose for covering-up evidence of cliff-driving the megafauna off of the Mogollon Rim. — I haven’t been able to look into it but have heard that most of the knowledge had gone with the destruction of the library at Alexandria, I have to look into what I can learn about that but am thinking that alot of the recorded knowledge had to do with the stars, the night sky, what was known about what goes on up there. The invading system-people keep us ignorant but pushed to get themselves up to space because they’d believed there was alot and when they got there it’s just the “magnificent desolation,” 1969 they faced that but still go on with their pursuits because they know how much damage they’ve done to this planet internally and such. In 1993 when this “Armageddon Show” was sprung onto me I said I wanted a planet of my own as payback for even that much torture back then, all this “invisible and unprovable” torture. Then in 1995, since the bums know there aren’t any riches on all those planets anyway they suddenly let everyone find out about all those “rocks” that the planets of the other solar systems only are…. In 1932 a lady astronomer allegedly drowned while boating with a friend and I think it was one of these invisible and unprovable “magic” -done ambushes, probably because she was going to tell people about the other planets around other stars, the system not wanting ordinary people to learn that there were other solar systems, but now that the system’s sure that there’s nothing of any value-use to itself there was some rush of exoplanet discoveries from Michel Mayor’s first one (around Pegasus 51b I think they say is the name of that star that has that first planet-discovery that Mayor had made,) to maybe 4000 of them now. I couldn’t figure any of this out but now I’m thinking that knowledge of their existence had been known of and kept a secret until anymore there isn’t any reason to keep it a secret and so “these bums” have been making phony livings as astronomers by suddenly doing that work for themselves, mixed all in of course with us normal people so that you can’t really tell who is or isn’t phony. I have to check on Donald Goldsmith, where I’d thought I see a resemblance with Mayor to both the SFSU exoplanet discoverers. Their work was such big news that the 20 years later when I started this blog I’d tried to look into their work and there was all that scandal and I couldn’t learn anything about the work and then it seemed like maybe “exoplanet” was cover-ritual for the LURE as I was stranded like this in San Francisco, etc. In the meantime I just thought of something more immediate that I’m supposed to be doing right now, what was it.
archive dot org slash stream slash gleasonspictoria0506glea#page slash n2009 slash mode slash 1up
This was Hubbard’s first minister. This photo is from Wikipedia’s file, from J. Cosmas dot com’s Vintage Photography studio. What I’m trying to do is find out the name of the church in Boston and then to what it was in Cambridge that Hubbard then spent most of his life belonging to, right somewhere near where Longfellow was probably alive and well as neighbor, that that isn’t that big of an area there. Longfellow’s house is a tourist site because Washington had spent about 9 months there but before he got there it was built and owned by British people, the Vassall or some such close spelling I think was their name. The family had built the Mayflower over in England. Then the colonists just chased the people out of the house and inherited the house and Washington used it, eventually going to Longfellow because his father-in-law gave it to him as a wedding present after he’d been living there while teaching at Harvard. My time for today is up though. I’m trying to show the path of the brain-eaters to what we have today. They thought they were real smart but the 1969 moon-landing showed that they hadn’t any reality-connection, space isn’t remotely like they’d figured and extrapolate that to everything, that they don’t have reality-connection, just like getting high and feeling good and nothing further than that is what’s taking us to extinction off of all this torture to me. i’m hoping i’ll hear from a real person to break up this monotony, etc.
7/16, Tuesday, real bad, this “Armageddon Program,” the stranger-bums are getting worse, totally unknown people who seem to work this underground unknown-world where it’s all about murder in reality, stereotypes that “work” this Armageddon off of me, alot of them this morning and all kinds of creepy c*** being sneak-perpetrated. Probably the most important thing is that, of course, Hubbard looks like John Winthrop of Boston, the famous first or what all he was governor, plantation -runner I guess, the “Jomon” -type main operator in Boston. I’d started some small file I think and will try to insert the link to here now:
Then there was that the Rev. Dr. Edward Norris Kirk had likely descended to being this “Shahan/666” Pill-grim boy -type, one of those outside my door just yesterday doing one of the “confusion” of which way I’m going ritual-spells, and that perhaps those come from that “Bradford” I think his name was, the one involved with the “Thanksgiving” holiday between the Pilgrims and the “native” Indian plants for the performing-out of all this from then-there.
Thinking of Winthrop’s plantationing caused me to think of the child-“use” that the system works by and that had come in conjunction with its similar “running” of the small animals in the area where I’m renting the room, like the birds didn’t start making any chirps till after I was awake, and they have the dogs run from under the ground like puppets similarly, so that and the plantations had put me into mind of what child-abuse the system runs itself by and I’m going to try to look into that as soon as I get caught up somehow today.
When I left here yesterday I couldn’t recall how I’d gotten from looking up Rodin and his Thinker statue over to this sculpture by Michelangelo that I’m not going to try to go and find a nice copy of, which is where I was hung up yesterday, somehow off the track in looking for a simple copy of the Thinker to use for an illustration for how this Armageddon Show had gotten started on me in 1993, but while I was looking for that I’d seen some mention of Rodin’s doing something akin to Michelangelo, the 2 then morphing into a long hunt of looking for a nice copy of this, from Michelangelo’s tomb for Lorenzo de Medici, a detail, called Dusk:
I want to look at this set to compare it with the Ghent Altarpiece’s 2 statues in the front, the John the Baptist and the John the Evangelist, like “Food and Drink” they seem to be there, the Baptist asking about eating a tiny lamb and the Evangelist like mixing up a brew-potion beverage that the respectively male and female donors are being asked about, etc. Etc. It looks like a big set up scam, those Donors maybe being actors as well as everyone else largely seems to be anymore, me in this goon-circus all around me all the time. But these 2’s faces look like those 2’s and I don’t really have an organized copy I can just call it up to check on right now. The reason I’m making a big deal about this is that “Dusk” looks to me to obviously be the same “style” as on the “Apotheosis of Homer” relief-sculpture that seems to have been discovered on the Appian Way at some point in history and that I say is the follow-up to the mosaic at Palestrina, what’s being called the Palestrina Nile mosaic but I’m saying it’s more like the “Praeneste Lake Nemi mosaic,” just below here in about the 5th post, called “This is Water, Also,” right now.
It isn’t super-clear that there’s a big chunk off the marble here where “Dusk’s” leg is propped up, but it’s there and I’ll have to work on getting more clear copies; this caption being from the one on the post below, with the green “Caution!” sign because these pieces likely all come with things like generational curses on them! that that’s this “Winthrop” I’m trying to explain is the same set of conspirators, going around the world running everyone off of cliffs and such so they can “make the planet safe” for the little “Autist” s***bags from this prehistoric error-set that’s snowballed and nobody will let anyone assist me toward getting it corrected. They’re just always doing this slaughterhouse-gimmick underneath wherever I go, has me very nervous today. I’m trying to think always how to get myself out of this where the system moves in and sets up underneath wherever I go and currently in this Houston location and when the “mindreading” bums see that I’m trying to make arrangements for getting me out of this they “crank up” the “Program” against me before I can even move a foot. I bought a bag the other day ($10,) toward trying to help me to move both my papers and the oxygen tanks and that’s like preparing toward 6 weeks from now but as soon as I did even before that the parasites are quick-moving to race against me, is the situation I’m in now, the parasites making a big deal that I’m thinking in terms of “making a run for it” where in reality I’m barely barely even able to walk, hence the requirement of trying to think in advance for what all I’d have to have toward actually being able to get out of this current little hole they have me trapped in. They were all over me as I walked into here today, this library. I don’t know what the guy is that seems to be in charge of this Program, like a go-between manager between up here and whatever arena or what they have under here but whatever the details Houston is like a gas station and that’s all that any “Program” is really about here, that they’re doing. Plus he’s got some partner that’s been taking fingerprints toward next year’s census-taking he said when I’d asked about a month ago, and then there’s all these Hindu people increasingly always all around this torture-set to myself. Likely that comes from John Winthrop and the old East India Company in Boston. Then Myles Standish and the anatomist Vesalius, and the Joseph Nasi character were all like kin, and this is just forwarding along what’s outlined in that book of Revelation at the back of the Bible but it’s also any other such prophecies all over and around the world, etc.
My situation is that my health, ability to move my body and breathe, is at its best at this time of year and temperature and I don’t think I can make it through another winter even in Houston’s relatively mild climate. If I had any contact anywhere I’d be better off, as with this attempt to write to contact the military intelligence area, that it’s slightly less warm there but if I had a person there I’d probably be okay through the upcoming winter but it seems like I’m wasting my time while this “Program” is doing what it wants to do off of me, and I can’t just sit here like this while it’s doing that, have to try to make the most I can out of this good-weather time of the year. But I don’t have any contact anywhere in the world to leave here to go toward.
— I’m doing really poorly. I’d gotten that thought about that maybe some child abuse-oriented place might assist me from that angle that the system preys on children but that’s too messy, too much about those abused little “angels,” etc., to mix with “all this,” and then I tried seeing if there was maybe any David Foster Wallace fan club where I could have something in common with anyone that might then assist me, and/or this (real) UniverseRescue attempt, come to recall that I’m also thinking in terms of astronomers, but I can’t write about this business of Mayor to anyone especially not anonymous people who are likely to be involved with that genotype in any of the ways. That’s 3 of them, with the SFSU duo-team, and they’re all big travelers, going around to all the other observatories and such. Me and the oxygen might be able to simply take this local bus to Hobby Airport, is becoming a thought. I’m limited to places that have got VA hospitals I can head for for the oxygen requirement. Tampa has got one. Tampa’s weather sounds alot better than Miami’s somehow. When I looked up Miami I saw all about hurricaines and when I looked up Tampa I think I saw that St. Petersburg only has about 3 non-sunny days a year, — and nearly not any rainfall, somehow, but that’s what it had looked like at a quick peek at what might be possible yesterday, that one place always has sunny days and the other is subject to hurricaines, which I don’t feel like going through. Plus I’m “just” looking for a place to re-organize for making the same trip then to San Juan, where there’s also a VA hospital, but then there’s at least some historical research I might could get done where Tampa-area doesn’t really have much to do with that. Let me look at Mobile, Alabama. — I can’t go just anywhere without knowing anybody there, lugging all this oxygen-difficulty, for instance. Then I looked up astrronomy in St. Petersburg and got a terrible scare of a big “fraud-parent’s type” as a typical stranger I might have tried to make some contact to. Universe Rescue, who would be interested in what seems to me to be such a simple little thing, and I can’t find a soul, just these filthy things all over, encrusted onto, me all day long every day, bothering me while I sleep and as soon as I wake up, etc., that this isn’t endurable. Nothing good, they have everything blocked off for for themselves. I guess I will have to take a break, try to shake something loose. My real thought when I woke up was about this trying to find a postcard I can send to this fraud-sister to ask why I haven’t gotten the simple picture/s yet. The same as “the Jew” is all over me, “the Jomon,” whatever, from under that Longfellow Avenue in the Bronx, similarly it’s been preying on the other little girl in that 4-person small “nuclear family” group, so I figure that that is causing the fraud-sister to delay merely sending that to me for one invented reason after another, anything to cause difficulties for me the system-bums do, anything to slow me down and keep this covered over, the “magic” preying on her as well as myself all these decades and causing this hold-up in just sending that to me now, but I don’t want to have to find another way to get in touch with her. I think the delay is a scam of this “magic’s,” putting into her head maybe that she wants me to use the gmail account to do this re-requesting the photos, just to use that address because I don’t want to use it because it’s like a sham-address, a phony box I can talk into that the “magic” thought-up as a way for keeping me in this vacuum, and I don’t want to be boxed up and I don’t want to write to a fictional name of her maiden name when she likely hasn’t used it in 35 years but just doesn’t want me around her real life, so she came up with this separate thing I could communicate to and now “the ‘magic,'” maybe has her stubborn that she won’t send them unless I communicate through the “special” gmail address she got just for communications with me, like a stubbornness scam that I don’t want to write to that address and she won’t send the requested item unless I write to her at that address instead of through the mail. So when the fraud-parent had gotten difficult or what similarly I’d tried sending postcards so that things seem more out in the open, simple and up-front, uncomplicated, public domain sort of a, communication-attempt without any secrecy about it, just open and natural and normal a question I’ve got, what is the matter with sending me the old photo of myself, that’s what I woke up with on my mind about again, and felt some Hindu guy lurking nearby around my brain. They generally look like this from an author’s photo I’d happen to run into and can only find to give an illustration of this “regular stereotype” to this invisible “show” onto/off of me:
This author’s name is Michael Pye, “The Drowning Room,” 2005 I’d noticed it on and he looks like the hotel manager they got for the Mission Hotel on S. Van Ness after I moved into there around 1995 or such. It was a horrible waste of like the best years of one’s life so that it hurts me to try to sit and think back to exactly which year I’d moved into there, 1994 (shudder) or 1995 (a little less worse,) then unable to get out of there till I took a plane to Washington on or about 23 October 2000, having been able to find employment and save the little money to get out of there, etc. The new manager’s name was also Michael (Michael Patel,) and there was very little interaction between us but when I went to Washington that girl Chandra Levy had disappeared and been found allegedly passed in Rock Creek Park the year later, but I think the whole horror was like a ritual-cover for this as being like Chandra and Levy doing this circus exhibition of what a moron I am, that that was the big underworld “Armageddon Show/Program/sneak-way of -making” the prophecies come through for the system bums, etc.
Two more things. When I woke up I’d thought about going to a store I’d read sells postcards that’s downtown near where there’d been a “Hindu-scene” the other day, where I’d asked about postcards at some major only food store they’ve got down on Main Street here, that there’s a big underground shopping center near there I’d read about has a store I maybe could find a postcard in so I woke up with that on my mind as something I could get up and go out and do instead of just coming to here. Then I thought that if that then I might as well just go here to Hobby Airport and get one and that way I could also look around a little bit to see where the different ticket counters that I might have to be going to one of them for (a ticket) soon at anyway, go there instead of to downtown or coming directly to this same old place. Then I thought of the John Winthrop resemblance of Hubbard’s and that decided me to just come in and get that mentioned, and while I was here I should also mention about this goat picture and it’s page 227 caption, and then to add to that that when I got to Germany, to Baumholder, W. Germany, there had been 4 new co-workers who’d come into the workroom and sort of deluged me with their names and the one of them at least looks like Winthrop’s son, John Winthrop, Jr., so I should get mentioned that, with this filth from the “French Connection” business on Longfellow Avenue in the Bronx’s then following my whole life to use me for this filth/Armageddon, when I got to Baumholder in 1975 there’d been these 4 that seem like descendants from this business in colonial Boston who’d been like sicced-onto little me for abuse in “all this” of how the Revelation is getting carried out, and what their names are, that main one’s being John Nutter, and then 3 friends, (Rick Ormond, like the older leader of the group, then Randy Boucher I think his name is spelled because they’d gone over how Boucher and Foshay have the same sounding endings of the long A, and Mike Kiernan I think was the 4th person, them just getting all around to check out a new girl or what I don’t know, I’m just like always the sitting duck for whatever rituals the system-people are performing or doing,) and the general sense was that they were generally from the Boston area. In retrospect I realize I was being set up for all this “Infinite Jest” pornography extravaganza all off of me, this ejaculation-collecting circus for “growing” people or what this secret but ubiquitous way of life is, that then also those other staff people there, some of them, seemed to get sucked-into this and I sometimes see “lookalikes” of the doctors and nurses in these other hospitals I’ve been seeing alot of since 2014.
The point with the goat is that I couldn’t go any further in trying to discuss this because of this being all alone that I am. Since I’m trying to write to milint I think I should go ahead and “unload” or ventilate some of this, that that speaker is one of these “Shahan/666/Pill-grim boy -types” and, like I mentioned just above, they’d had one of them just yesterday doing some creepy little ritual trick scene out in the hallway outside my room door, they do “magic” and I don’t know how much sneaky violence, I’m just this tiny thing alone with that the system’s killing the Earth and all of eternity for nothing, and, of course, then I have to add the part of the sentence that and that they’re doing it off of (underline) this off of me, that bothering and making me beg is how they’re doing their Armageddon and they’re only parasites and that’s going to cause the planet’s unnecessary demise, “gratuitous,” not any reason for it, I usually include, all these years/decades with this same situation. If something happens to me I see that nothing’s been done about that the parasites are going to cause the death of all biology, and these guys are all really insane. This guy who made that page-227 comment is part of a huge stereotype and they’d been involved like supervising the rituals for that 2015 car that had hit me. In fact I hadn’t gotten to finish what I was trying to write about that when I’d been hit by the car I seem to have been kidnapped or some similar such by that ambulance, and like disappeared for a week while these bums made a different “Infinite Jest” pornography off of poor little me, that’s cover-fronted by claim that it’s for medical student -type training use. And now I’ve got one that comes and goes around that place I’m renting the room in (maybe 2 of them actually.) This comment is only that it’s ludicrous, the 666-type just “playing stupid” as part of their stereotype’s act I guess, like they don’t understand. In this instance it’s about that 1953 alleged death of Frank Olson through that MKUltra business, but I’m thinking that Olson was just wanted to go work on the rocket science so the system had played that “trick” to free him up for that, where everything seems like part of this big hee-haw Infinite Jest to the underground-world “Limitless!” brain-eaters who’ve just generationally believed that they’re smarter than mere normal people because they know how to get high and have sex and that’s what life’s really all about, they know how to enjoy life and other people are just boring, is the developmentally disabled peoples’ view. Then also I’d found out that there has been published a sequel to the 1998 “Limitless/The Dark Fields” novel but it deals with the earlier MKUltra-type days before the Limitless novel’s events and so that fiction doesn’t interest me, I was afraid of a sequel dealing with their furtherance on this supply-subject of how they victimize people like specifically me for use as their brain-eaters’ victims. I don’t want to annoy you guys at Fort Huachuca but I already know that nobody in Washington is going to assist me and I know that the VA hospital-system is headed by one of the types that ignores or is against me and-or my type, that I’m in some danger with how teeny I am when these bums make me internally-ill so I have to go to an emergency room for the difficulty breathing or what other things they might do to me, danger that the head of VA isn’t going to be interested in my getting assistance with this “big picture” of getting me out of this LURE, that that’s what the creeps on my head, if you will, crawling at the back of my head right now interestedly in what I’m writing about themselves’ doing for instance, want, is these creeps want me in VA hospital custody so they can do big LURE and like I’ve stressed, I’ve already spent most of this millennium in Washington and nobody there is going to do anything positive for me or any of this so that I can’t figure where else I could turn. I’d tried Oliver North’s “Freedom Alliance” group and I had bad luck after each contact-attempt, these hospitalizations and difficulty breathing ambushes had started. It seems to me that that would be so easy if that group would assist because I hardly require anything except a quiet steady place I could sit and write letters from, like here I have to get up not only at the end of each day but also if I want or have to take a break I have to pack up whatever papers I’ve got around and then find a new spot to unpack them again after the break, etc., so that it’s really bad for my health here, the air conditioning is freezing to my lungs-area where the torture works but it’s such a hassle to take a break that I tend to sit here for about the 7 hours straight whenever I can, no food or warmth till then I’m like blasted with reality when I can finally get through the doors to the outside again, and in hospitals they don’t even let me get any fresh air or be able to do this blog, so I just have to get myself to some safe situation and I’m getting old and nobody’s doing anything on that the universe is going to be gratuitously dying eternally for really not anything but some bums with developmental disability who learned how to cut ovaries out of women and mass-replicate their own selves. I’m not making any progress here, have to change something for my sanity.
Here’s a typical set of the “tricks” that are nonstop played on me:
When I was stranded in Washington’s downtown library for about 10 years I’d run across this book and noticed that the author’s picture looked alot like one of the characters that go to describing this “Armageddon Show’s ‘magicians” or directorship, but all my papers were thrown away when these hospitalizations started in 2014. When I got to this library here I’d search-engined for images of this book and one of them had had that author’s photo. I went to look it up again a few days later to get a copy of it and it was gone, not any copies of that particular picture of the author anywhere, right on the back flap of this particular edition it probably is, 1983, but not any of the later editions. It would make this so much easier for me to describe if I could show the picture and one of say Allen Ginsberg or
this general type I always use as the example had “vision” appeared in my head on about 28 Dec. 1998 as I was laying near-delirious with 2 different kinds of illness one evening, at that Mission Hotel on S. Van Ness Avenue in SF. By a small picture they seemed to show me how the one illness of an abscess in my cheek was formed, by them think-slow-dripping substance from a syringe into a hole in my gums, thence I’d develop a “magic”-done abscess, like showing me how the “magic” trick was done. I appreciated learning that, wasn’t scared, was really too ill to be worried, sick with one of those abscesses and this “slug-pneumonia” that I still get plagued by, and I got well and the following month was able to get some vocational training so I could go back to work. As these decades have gone by I’ve come to think that that author’s photo might look similar to one of the fraud-uncles, 3 brothers that the fraud-parent had had, that one always living in Syracuse and I hadn’t considered him as being involved but then it’s possible there was some connection, and he and Allen Ginsberg had been at Columbia Univ. in the same time period I guess, about 1946 or so, 1948, maybe 1950. A few vague “coincidences” like that, like that I’d seen that uncle in March 1983, and then that most of this “show” off of me seems to be this underground “LURE” for people to make ejaculation-donations, like “whizzes” of Armageddon. And, similar to me inexplicably being able to get that little photo of myself now for simpler description I’m unable to find another copy of that photo of the author. He did some useful write-up on Ginsberg and the space venture in a more recent book, titled “1959,” the year that everything changed or some such, like that he knew that Ginsberg had written a “Poem Rocket” and mentioned how exciting the space venture was, expecting to be up there doing all-new things soon. He’s been living in Brooklyn. Also there’s an extremely big tie-in with a difficulty I’d had in 1993-94, where I’d “picked up” some big curse onto me having to do with computers, it seems, and that person involved in that did look alot like the author does in his regular photos, none of which I guess are public domain that I could simply put here to show you what I’m trying to describe. I think there’s a connection and the inter-connection.
In 1994 it had happened that I’d gone from NY to San Francisco in hope of finding this “boy” that had set me up with this Armageddon-story back in 1979, but I was homeless and so just sitting around in the downtown area waiting to see about a shelter bed, trying to find out about them, and it happened that I’d had conversation with a guy who spelled his name I think Allan, and when I couldn’t get a bed and was going to try to stay awake sitting at the Carl’s Jr’s. on Market St. there he’d come in and given me a pack of cigarettes, for which I’d thanked and said I owed him back for them, but then that night or the next night he’d come back with another pack of cigarettes and a five-dollar bill and I’d said that I’d accept but now owed him ten dollars. When I was able to get onto welfare and was then walking from the check-cashing place to the locker that I’d either just rented or had arranged to rent as soon as I got the money, walking through a little park with benches area to the locker-place in the Tenderloin district there, he was there asking for his money but he had a girl who was pretty big with him and I was afraid to take the money out of my pocket like that right then and said I’d go rent the locker or put my things away and be right back and when I got back (with the ten dollars for him) they were gone, and over the months I’d only run into him at a couple of similarly inconvenient times, that it wound up I’d never paid him back and I think I’d been set up for that for a curse onto me, had met him because it was hoped to cause me difficulties and those became keeping me off of computer and out of business. The last time I saw him he was carrying a computer like moving into a new business on Market St., but I never saw him in any sort of a regular way, just in those unexpected passings on the street at times when I couldn’t pay right then, like the “magic” arranging for that, and then it comes up that there is some similarity between him and the fraud-uncle and his youth photo on the 1983 book jacket just happens to look like the one of the “magicians” that had made that apparition in my head that one evening. Slightly before that I guess there’d been some “coincidental” scene of an overheard conversation where a turbaned guy was talking about what seemed like buying something for 5 million dollars, like maybe “rights” to this exhibition off of me, as I walked into the Lion King supermarket not far from the Mission Hotel. (Food Lion probably. Not there anymore. I think it’s Foodsco now.)
So, it would be simple enough for normal people to be able to buy a copy of the early edition, or even to write to the author in Brooklyn, but the only thing available to me is the possibility that I could get a copy on inter-library load that would happen to have the author’s photo. Since I don’t want it unless it has the author’s photo I feel like I should write to or telephone the only library that seems to have that edition, in San Antonio, before going ahead and requesting it only to learn it doesn’t have its original cover anymore after 35 years, but the library doesn’t mention an email address for the san antonio public library. — Okay, I sent one of their Contact forms with the — I don’t ever like to put question marks. There are alot of things that this invisible-torture causes me to feel uncomfortable doing, and question marks worry me that these “things on my head” translate those upside-down, to where the upside-down question mark looks like a meathook, all kinds of peculiar little “superstitions” like that this causes, so I didn’t ask them the question but said I hoped someone could check and let me hear back.
7/17, Wednesday. Alot of nothing so far. The church Hubbard went to is about 3 blocks from the Longfellow/Washington house, is some big deal but I don’t notice any Longfellows as members yet. Philip Johnson had built a house right in that area too, but I think it’s gone now.
I have to try to mention the whole business of protection,
1- This invisible-torture has the excuse that it can’t leave me because I really am all alone in their civilization of psychopaths, murderers they’ve built. I could conceivably find a way out of this specific LURE trap I’m in but the torture will just follow along as always or whenever it’s wanted to, therefore I could really use some “witness protection” but can’t get anything from Washington.
2- Anyone I write to really should have protection also because the system “goons” just get ideas on who else they could Armageddon off of contact attempt even thoughts that I have.
This is half of the back cover of “the f-group’s,” — me afraid of all “authorities” that might disappear me from this little freedom I’ve got so that I don’t like to type any of those groups’ names for fear of their attention, but the federal Bureau of i************’s Centennial was celebrated in 2008 with this write-up of their history, 1908-2008, and it ends with 2 Hindus on its back cover and as I’d gotten this typed out the power went out here and I lost the typing on it and am tired of the subject. My thinking is that they’ve got this turbaned guy on the back cover as though a cornerstone for the modern f-group after I’d been there since 2000 with this “magic” Chandra and Levy “Armageddon Show” all over me, that group already from the peculiar-system all along. Their 1962 building was put on the main area that the “Autists” had infiltrated, back in 1794, that 10th and D Streets, NW area, the Autists had started a church and moved up from there, the Lincoln assassination at the Ford’s Theatre, etc. Also that “Limitless” novel became a 2015-16 tv show that is said to have been all about the protagonist’s working with or for the “f-group,” and that “Nas” lady character is one of these “Jomon” types, etc., that that’s about the serotonin-dependence, as is most of this abuse onto me, besides the cannibalism in general.
As I was leaving Washington there was a new film premiering, Victoria and Abdul and that’s all connected to this “b.s.” on and off of me too now, as was the 1939 Shirley Temple “Little Princess” film, same b.s., same modus operandi-thinking, same abuse of unsuspecting non-Autist normal people. I hope that this power’s being cut off here doesn’t enable the system to play some trick on this blog.
I have never had anyone both call up this blogsite and discuss anything with me, tell me what they saw or read or thought about or got threatening signs from the system or what happened. I’ve given the url to very few people and none of them ever spoke to me afterward to speak of, and then the terminals turn off on me all the time and I don’t know if the system replaces me in running the site or what they might be doing, they’re always terrorizing me. This turn-off was the whole place, about 2:15 on the 17th of July, 2019.
Speaking of terror, — the big space-group, nasa, they’d banned me from their library I guess it was in 2013 but it might have been 2014, I’d have to sit down for awhile and try to piece some of this together to be positive which year it was, around May to July mostly I think it was. I’d gone and sat there doing reading and it was a little eerie like this invisible to me and unprovable Armageddon Show always is, it did seem like they were probably doing this insult-circus “show” while I was reading but I have to live and so I try to just work through as best I can, function, but it started that when I left at 5 p.m. a girl who worked there would sometimes zip past me unexpectedly and it was kind of weird and then it started to seem like she was semioticizing a continuance of the “show” from the one building back to the shelter, as it was always like that with the library downtown or even here now sometimes lately too, following me from one location or venue to another, and whichever of the 2 directions I could walk in I’d find that this girl would come up from behind me and be way up the street ahead of me so that there wasn’t any normal speaking, never said a word, just zip by and it became real creepy so after maybe a week I wrote a note about it and gave it to a different library clerk, Dear N-group library, One of your clerks is terrorizing me by following me out of here on the way back downtown, the girl that wears green all the time or some such I’d described briefly, to please ask her to quit doing that (whizzing by me without speaking,) very brief note, and when I went back the next day they told me I couldn’t go there anymore, mostly because I’d said they were terrorizing me, can’t use that word in conjunction with themselves, and they took a mug shot of me and I wasn’t allowed back. In retrospect I realize that the girl was what I’m now calling “plants,” people that the underworld “show” places in places wherever I go. I cannot tell who was and who wasn’t somewhere before I got there, it’s this same pattern all the time. The girl was probably a “volunteer” plopped into their desk chair just for this behind-my-back-exhibition. All she ever did was keep her fingers to her mouth like she was eating her fingertips, I’d see that when I walked in. I don’t know what it meant, probably just that she’s hungry, like they want to make murders so she can get some food, as they do a jump-people-from-behind type of “show” LURE sometimes it seems. I saw her once after I got banned, her just sitting at that regular library downtown the same as everyone — in the country it seems, that it seems like this holocaust has been having people show up at libraries and somehow getting called one by one into the undergrounds under them and maybe they don’t come back is how it’s been all these years, decades nearly.
Then I’ve had 2 difficulties with 2 veterans groups. The first one seems to have led to the car-hit and I’m trying to type what I’d written while in the hospital for about that: Suburban Hospital, and the other one is now where I’d written to the Texas Veterans Commission when it started seeming like there was a LURE going on on me that seems connected to them giving me a “free” mailing address I could use. Their response was to have a mental health person emailing me so I don’t use the free address after all, there isn’t any safety in it for anyone who would write to me there is the point, it’s as though the veterans group just think it gets this free LURE off of me as something I just go around having done off of myself as something to do with my life or what…. There’s a small factor for myself that the head of the group maybe looks like someone from the 2009-2017 Administration in Washington that I’d mentioned in conjunction with the Autism-syndrome in a letter to the White House, and so had one of these young doctors and he’d nearly demanded that I have some horror-procedure, and that horror-procedure isn’t too different from the type that maybe the system had done when I’d been unconscious after the car-hit, which I haven’t been able to get the time to describe to anyone yet, nobody assists me with anything. It seems that the Armageddon Show wanted to update their pornography LURE off of me, as I think I mentioned here yesterday.
7/18, Thursday; I found someone that maybe I could try, and I’ll try making the email here, though it seems like concentration would be better at the regular email site already. It’s a lady active in astronomical-interests, I can’t read too much about anyone because I’ve always got anonymous “devil people” reading through my brain, can’t ever bring too much attention to anyone that might be a nice person because that’s who they’re extincting, which brings up that I managed to read once-through the biography on Johns Hopkins, the donor of the Baltimore University and Hospital and etcs. It was published in October 1929 and I guess that that’s because the system had expected his interests to rise above everybody whose interests were ruined by that stock market crash, which is the main thing or one of the main things I’ve been warning about since the Feb. 1993 surprise start of this brain-torture “show” off of me, that whoever had written those book of the Revelation prophecies could build up their system off of (taking) the natural resources the planet had started with but that they couldn’t or wouldn’t do anything but let the system rise and then crash, destroying everyone dependent on the system, like we all are now. This goes on and on from the Johns Hopkins little biography, how “the bums” had built-up this system we’re in, meaning that they look alot like these from that de Medici Tomb:
I thought I had the photo of the whole Tomb there. The female was modeled for by a male, it’s a male’s face. Then it seems like the recently-departed Carmine Persico was descended from Hopkins. And “they,” the system here or under here, just made me ill by sending one of those fraud-parent types in some new arrangement they’re plaguing me by about the seating arrangements, as though these libraries and other places are for nothing but this anthropophagy-system. Then, I’d found something yesterday that perhaps points out that there’s something really wrong with your place, that there was some nice-sounding Vega-Bray (astronomical) Observatory over east in Benson by you and that’s become the San Pedro Valley Observatory now where the site is pretty eerie, as the system turns everything from normal to eerie, is my theme about what they’ve done to space, outer space, the solar system, that it’s all a crime scene but we mortals don’t know that, being newborns that are all-lied to by the (underworld) system. “The Vision” I guess it’s been being called, this “Vision” that the system’s people have been given to believe in, that what’s eerieness to me to them is “space!” and Limitless! future and power for their types or genotypes, that that all comes from the insanity. I haven’t been able to get time to look into this but somehow they’ve got a museum exhibit in Tokyo that has a statue that looks the same as what I’ve been thinking is where the “Jomon” partners to the dinosaur-extincting “Autists” had come from. Since this file is trying to reach the knowledge-core or what I think I can chance — these “Jomon” have me terrorized about copyright this and that, ludicrously terrorized when I’m likely the most infringed upon person my own self, that I’ve been afraid to post this photo till I could write to the museum and get a Permission to post a photo from one of their exhibits but here you’re a separate subject so I’ll see if I can find it:
I came across these about the above Tomb and then possibly to Johns Hopkins himself, while I’m still looking for the museum photo….
That’s about what I think they’d looked like and I can’t understand why modern findings happen to be what I happen to figure is where this “race” that looks like that
had come from. Modern findings have it that Japan was then suddenly peopled by a culture called the Yayoi and they knew how to grow rice. My thought is that that would be “the Autist invaders” and that they’d learned the cultivation from the mainlanders who’d subsequently become the “Trojans” as the Yayoi and Jomon had teamed up and gone to conquer the mainland for themselves, the Yayoi citing that the mainlanders had done them some wrong and the Jomon backing up their new friends and the “drugs, sex and rock ‘n roll” way of fun the long-deprived islanders and their new friends had come up with together. Everything snowballing to this TOTAL PLANET EXTINCTION the fun-boys had devised for themselves, the dinosaur-extincters and the isolated-development islanders, maybe another group, to today’s “consortium” based on the serotonin-dependence and ignoring real reality. I don’t understand how Tokyo’s museum could just happen to go along with the general drift of what I’ve been thinking though, that that seems nearly too-convenient that I’d happen to be correct about anything and the system would give backing for it. There isn’t any research-finding I’ve found yet that gives much detail other than the rice-growing about the Yayoi, nothing specific and I don’t have time to look into it but it’s possible that for some reason the system lets my thought and their thought be the same on where the people that looked like that mannequin in the Jomon exhibit had come from. In the meantime, the real point is that I want to send a contact-attempt to this astronomy-interest lady because I don’t have any person anywhere that would help me to get out of a hospital if this invisible-torture does an ambush to me and I have to go to one. There is one more thing that’s come up lately, that that DF Wallace and his roommate had written that 1990 “Signifying Rappers” little book about rap music. As I’m looking into it I’m getting the feeling that “rap” semioticizes (signifies) that “rapture” of the Revelation-Armageddon, that that’s what the hallucino-system was doing, forging ahead with their Armageddon in that sneaky a way, with most of that music genre’s coming up from underneath the Bronx. Note how similar that is to my suspicion that the little Johns Hopkins biography had just happened to be published just before the stock market crashed, with Hopkins I guess emerging okay while many Americans only barely had.
Here’s what I just emailed to her: Dear Ms. Jackson, I came across your name while looking for astronomy-related places that might have interest in assisting me. Please look at my blog but don’t give anybody else the URL, to see if you might be able to get any fundraising going on any terms you like, even fifty-fifty or more. I’m trying to get the attention of military intelligence and the link to that file is at the “continue reading” of the first post under the Warning one, and I’ll write to you more about this there, which could also be reached — I can send you one of those Word Press email-packages, but not with that file, it would have to be something else, maybe I’ll be able to make something later today or soon, though I really don’t like to bother anyone but the rescue-attempt is real and about nothing else is right now, etc Sincerely: UniverseRescueKathyFoshayWordPressCom.wordpress.com and then the other would also be under the Contact, Ms. R. File. If you were open to this concept the most helpful thing is that I’ve never heard back from anyone what they see when they call up my universe rescue blog, I’ve never seen a normal-type Comment of any kind, would be useful. I’ll try not to be too hopeful about your giving this some thought but I’m always totally desperate, etc.
There are alot of loose ends I’d like to get to but I can’t particularly think of any right now, I didn’t bring some pages I thought I might type up, and what else — I’ve got a crazy backlog because I haven’t been able to mail anything since I’ve been waiting to hear from that fraud-relative with the 1959 photos of myself, and her. There’d been a bunch of them, mostly together but some separate of each that she could send anything but there’s this “Longfellow-devil” I’m thinking of it as being, this underground set-up from that block we’d lived on in the Bronx, that that’s followed me into this Armageddon-position and was similarly using the sibling any anyone else possible as pawns. But what should I do with myself today now that that big email I’d thought about all night is off my mind. Really I should just keep trying to figure where I could “shake loose” some assistance from. I have to get a postcard for that fraud-relative’s recollecting that I’m waiting here for that but there isn’t any point in leaving the library to go do that now, and I’m too grubby, — I live like an animal. That’s maybe one of the things I could or should look into, that National Geographic Oct. 2008 article I’d like to get an illustration from for here. Gardiner Hubbard was practically that magazine’s whole founder. Yesterday I’d looked into sending an email with this blog’s url to the observatory in Benson and that’s when I realized that there were strange doings there. Oh dear, that reminds me of what I just saw when I went to send that email, that the VA has got some new thing where they want you to sign up for their new “id” or “ID” or “Id” account-way. Before it’s been MyHealtheVet or MyHealthEVet, ee-vet, being the point, their healthy young vampires’ eating the older and veteran people, and now it’s just coming down to id. They’ve got some guy here, I don’t ever know what the people that are around me might be up to or thinking but nobody ever speaks English with me, no real communication, it’s as though he thinks he knows anything about what little always-alone me is thinking or doing; I can’t guess what the system-people tell people but none of it is true. This Johns Hopkins book mentions toward the end that after he passed and the university and hospital were being built that then someone got them property that had used to belong to “that” Charles Carroll of Carrollton, so that that’s how the 2 main Autist-groups had merged, there with whatever that is about that the Carroll’s “Homewood” main property had been added to the Johns Hopkins’. To my “researches,” research findings but I’m afraid to use the word “research” because the system thinks that that word has to do with hunting people for food and drug use, etc., so I try to work around words that I figure excite the system too much, to my little findings it seems that the Carrolls were the main saboteurs of what became Washington now, that one of their kin had (unprovable this only is though,) claimed he was a different person, a Dominican priest I think it was, named Anthony Cafry, variously spelled as Caffry or Caffrey, and I think that that was actually an Anthony Carroll, in 1794, he’d rented a room at 10th and D Streets, now NW, and set up St. Patrick’s Church and that’s been running ever since, is a couple of blocks up the street to the G Street corner now, and I feel that that was the “Autist-system’s” base of operations for what has become Washington and its part in making the global-system.
Like I’d mentioned yesterday, anyone I try to contact should have some sort of “witness protection.”
DF Wallace’s unfinished novel is about boredom, that that’s supposed to be the theme of the undertaking of writing it, to write about boredom, then taking working for the IRS as the vehicle for that. I can picture that, had mentioned that from the first in 1993, that it would be or become boring to be voyeuring on people, tedious just watching other people’s motions rather than having your own, so that I “wonder,” another difficult word for me, as is “problem” because I don’t know what these weirdos hallucinate-code to each other think that words might “mean,” if the novel has anything to do with these “masters'” voyeuring, like the Apotheosis of Homer lounger that I think was a guard and then became the “Dusk” guard over Lorenzo’s tomb:
Boring to just sit around watching over people, but that seems to be their Limitless! superior-types’ chosen way of life, to stay high and be viziers.
I’ll have to make some sort of copies of pages of this Johns Hopkins book, because I can barely recollect anything of these books if I don’t have something on paper about or from them. I used to think I should keep at least a 1-page copy of something interesting from a book in order to be able to recall the content of the whole thing later on because otherwise it evaporates let alone that all these different and sneaky things can’t be coordinated without written copies if not on paper, noted somewhere, and there is alot snuck into this book toward the end. I should look up this Ms. Thom and her husband on the search-engine too. It starts with like a sneaky set up like the system slides its big things in by, which is near impossible to describe and I’ve only got 2 days left with this book. If anyone’s following this what I’m trying to communicate, I did just get that “Wizards of Armageddon” with the author’s youthful photo shipped to here today, maybe will have it by next week. It isn’t a great big deal but it should simplify my trying to describe so much of this by a little, trying to describe what the “visions” had looked like and then that I think that the particular “type” was really semioticizing that a different of the Foshay fraud-relatives might have actually have had something to do with this that has befallen me, by his old resemblance to that photo, coincidence of that, and then maybe something further as that “Allan” guy then showed up in 1994, the photo first published in 1983, and the “vision” of that one and what in retrospect would look like Allen Ginsberg, then in 1998, “Wizards of Armageddon” off of little me, getting for themselves and whatever is over them. Over them I figure might include the Royal Dutch Shell company’s old days, some investment in property in the Bronx, and then I guess they get what’s under there too.
With the Johns Hopkins business, the obvious thing is that they’ve been doing this “growing” people from disembodied ovaries through long-time planning there. The other main part is the Quakers’ freeing of the slaves business, long before it became the Civil War issue. I suspect that that was all a trick, that freeing the slaves meant sending them to prepared underworlds that have to do with mountains and hills that undergrounds are dug into. I don’t know anything whatsoever about how those things are engineered.
I’ll try to sort out all these subjects if I ever get to any safe situation but my nerves are always so bad just sitting in libraries knowing that my chance to do this might disappear so I have to do anything quickly and that’s messily, but here I’ll try to keep sorting out about this Hopkins book while I’ve still got it, (it came from Florida A&M University in Tallahasee,) and have to jot things like that she’s the daughter of Joseph S. Hopkins, and offhand I couldn’t recall if that was Joseph his brother or Joseph a nephew for positive. Johns had had 5 brothers and 4 of them died early somehow.
Helen Hopkins Thom (1867-1948) was the great-niece of Johns Hopkins. She graduated from Bryn Mawr College in 1891. — and this site calls her Prof, that I got that from,
here’s one that has Helen Rolphe Hopkins Thom 1869-1948
Joseph Schofield Hopkins was her father and he was a nephew, 1840-1926. Then I’d have to look up to see which brother was his father. This 1929 biography was just reprinted in 2009 so there ought to be plenty of copies available of it, whereas the 1929 only had about 238 copies worldwide.
There’s usually some likely explanation but in trying to find out who the author’s father was then the Find a Grave doesn’t have a male parent listed for him, only Elizabeth Scofield (sic) Hopkins 1809-1890.
It can be very confusing…. Here’s a book published last year, The Ghosts of Johns Hopkins, by a Baltimore journalist with a difficult name, Antero Pietila, and on p. 79, according to these G***** another word I don’t like to use because of what the system things of “goo,” of petroleum, etc., was that there was a 100-acre necropolis near Hopkins’ house called Clifton, that that place was liked by grave robbers. That put me in mind of that he does seem to have looked like a “blood-drinker” or vampire maybe. The great-niece biographer says he had terrible insomnia.
The first Young Men’s Hebrew Association (YMHA) was founded in 1854 in Baltimore, Maryland, to provide services and support for Jewish immigrants. By 1884 approximately seventy such agencies had been organized. They served as libraries, settlement houses, cultural centers, and helped new Jewish immigrants adapt to life in America by offering instruction in the English language and the American way of life. In 1913 the National Council of Young Men’s Hebrew and Kindred Associations (YMH&KA) was formed to unite the disparate YMHAs into a national association. (from stateuniversity dot com, sic.)
Thomas Huxley had given the inaugural address at Johns Hopkins in 1876. And Woodrow Wilson was an early graduate and then there alot.
7/19, It wasn’t Thomas Huxley, he went there later that year and gave a speech just before the term opened, it was Harvard’s president, Charles Elliot I think is the spelling, I’ll have to check since that’s where Gardiner Hubbard’s church was, right there between Harvard (and then Radcliffe,) and the Longfellow-Washington Vassall et al., house, and there was general trafficking from there to Baltimore and the other new university/hospital sites, the brain-eaters, who I guess were all secret slave-owners somehow, that slavery had been moved to the underground because you couldn’t keep grown males unshackled and shackles wouldn’t look good to the unsuspecting “ordinary” people who didn’t know about drugs, sex and great music tra-la.
And then Gardiner Hubbard had moved and helped build a new branch of that one (from his Boston pastor Edward Norris Kirk, who maybe matches my figuring about the Pill-grim boy,) in Cambridge to Connecticut Avenue in Washington and that’s maybe one block from nowadays’ National Geographic building, that these people were likely “sewing up” by their networking-locations this country and the world; pattern.
And George Peabody went from Salem/Boston to Baltimore and then over to London but he was some friend to Johns Hopkins, business associates or what.
George Fox is the subject I’m supposed to try to figure out again today, as these same subjects and people’s names come up decade after decade, but he might have even met with the Hopkins in Maryland personally, and they converted from church of England to Quakerism. I’m thinking that maybe “quaker” has to do with making people nervous about making an error like I’m nano-terrorized by. And “george” is always worrisome because it’s my impression that the “Autists” were always primarily cliff-pushers, luring people up to heights with cliffs, and that’s the name of where the Hopkins had lived, The Cliffs, part of Maryland. And “fox” became slang for good-looking females, etc.
Edward Norris Kirk, 1802-1874 (Hubbard’s first minister, etc.) The point is that this Hachette seems to have a monopoly on all this that I’m talking about now. I wound up having to go to the airport for a postcard and the little bag has the name of one of the Hachette companies on it: Paradies Lagardère (formerly The Paradies Shops, Inc.) operates stores in airports, hotels, and other locations throughout the United States and Canada. Locations include specialty stores and bookstores. The company was founded in 1960 in Atlanta, Georgia.
The Paradies Shops was founded by brothers Jim and Dan Paradies in 1960. Their first store was a toy shop at the Atlanta Airport that was an immediate success and North American Airport Retail was born. Since 1960, Paradies has expanded to over 1035 stores in 103 airports. The company runs stores under brands ranging from The New York Times to different American collegiate athletic conferences as well as brands such as Brooks Brothers, Corsa, Spanx, iStore, Swarovski, Pandora, Dylan’s Candy and many more. Paradies Lagardere also operates multiple Fine dining Food & Beverage concepts within the airports.  The company was acquired by Lagardère Group, a French company, in October 2015. Since Acquisition it has grown 70% and currently employs over 6000 people. Now known as Paradies Lagardère, the company comprises all of the stores formerly under The Paradies Shops and LS Retail names. In 2018 Airport Revenue News named Paradies “Best Overall Retailer” for the 23rd consecutive year. 
Our History: 1852: Louis Hachette opened the first railway Bookstore, Bibliothèques de Gare, and the travel retail industry is born. 1881: Hatchette developed the distribution network Messageries Hachette, and becomes the supplier to over 80,000 press outlets across France. 1945: Hachette launched the renowned Elle Magazine. 1960: Jim and Dan Paradies open the first Paradies Shop in Atlanta Municipal Airport. 1986: Hachette acquired Curtis Circulation in the US, a leader in the magazine distribution market. In 1990: Hachette acquires Eastern Lobby Shops, a U.S. news and convenience retail company. 1992: PGA TOUR and Paradies sign an agreement for the first airport retail brand partnership. 1995: Hachette acquires The UCS Group, Canada’s largest press retailer. 1996: Coca-Cola names Paradies its official retailer for Summer Olympic games in Atlanta. 2000: Canada’s UCS Group merges with America’s Eastern Lobby Shops and gives birth to HDS Retail North America. 2007: Paradies launches its Food and Beverage Division. 2008: HDS Retail acquires a majority interest in the Phoenix-based Delstar Companies Inc., and the San Antonio-based airport retailer, News & Gift Shops International. 2011: HDS Retail North America becomes LS travel retail North America, to align with the corporate branding of Lagardère Services’ travel retail division. 2014: LS travel retail North America sells its Canadian urban retail locations to Gateway Newstands. The sale allows LS travel retail to focus on its core strategy – operating in travel environments. 2015: Airport Revenue News names Paradies “Best Overall Retailer” for the 20th consecutive year. 2015: Lagardère Travel Retail Acquires Paradies and merges it with LS travel retail North America to create the new market leader for airport concessions. 2018″ Paradies Lagardere acquires Hojeij Branded Foods (HBF) 
They own the copyright on all 4 of the books I’m trying to get across about the serotonin-dependence (addiction) by/about:
1- The French Connection, 1969
2- The Dark Fields/Limitless 1998
3- Infinite Jest, 1996
4- Signifying Rappers, 1990
Kirk looks like the “Pill-grim boy” from the Ghent Altarpiece type, the “666,” etc., all over me increasingly. This Hachette – Lagardere group is run by the stereotypes I’m saying have insanity and have been doing their “Revelation-Armageddon” world takeover business off of parasiting on me, way down and under all the layers of the “lies and doo-doo” is such the fitting phrase, describes it all so well but I don’t like to use it. In fact it’s a quote from the same guy that had told me about the “signifying monkey” business that I really didn’t get but now through Wallace’s book I’m learning or realizing about the “signifying.” Did I mention that this business of the “rap music” has probable connection to the “rapture” threats or promises of that Revelation. — It was disgusting at the airport, big pictures of brains and like the place is sponsored by the neurology institute at the Hermann Memorial Hospital or some such, getting ever so obvious anymore and normal people wouldn’t take it seriously but this is how the brain-eaters are getting their world-takeover so they can stay high. I have to sign off, hope I can recall all these things to try to get back to tomorrow, have to make out and mail that postcard before I come into here tomorrow. Supposed to go food shopping for that tonight….
7/20, Saturday; the bums generally do LURE on weekends but I guess because this is the 50th anniversary of the/their/the system’s moon-landing the invisible-torture is gimmick-parasiting on that as a LURE excuse, so I can barely move under the weight of the invisible-torture monsters. Yesterday I’d “found” through the search-engine those youth photos purported to be of David Wallace but I’ll have to try to go find all those details again now to double-.triple-check on whatever this latest detail-bit is, as it occurred to me that maybe they’re of the David Wallace who’d changed his name, son of the Chicago novelist Irving Wallace, right near wherever that Champaign-Urbana or Urbana-Champaigne, forgive me, my head is so clogged with this system feces-torture. More importantly I’d rather try to get a quick photo of those Ghent Altarpiece painted-statues of the 2 Johns, John the Baptist and John the Evangelist, that they must have come up from “Rene’s sons Italy” with that one, the gimmick that their services for providing food and beverage-potion were requested. All of them likely came out of Casimir’s Wawel Castle. Then they’re doing this same machine-like food and beverage-potion set up all over the world, “God help” me, and then this Johns Hopkins was likely mass-reproduced to be that other little Wallace boy that’s been life-morphed with one of the less-Autist types. I’m trying to type up that “Planet Trillophon” thing because it’s reminding me alot of the Sean Barron Autism-memoir but I can’t possibly get more than one more page typed today and there are about 6 more pages, so that I won’t be able to finish it because tomorrow’s Sunday and then at best it’d be about a page per a regular library-hours day next week. Meaning that perhaps all of the boys that look like those “discovered” photos had been descended from Mr. Hopkins, maybe Chuck Yeager — you know, that is likely, where in this Planet Trillophon it’s all this horror about a hole in the face and Yeager had had an unreal accident to one whole side of his face. I think maybe it was before he’d gotten into the sonic-boom time period but I can’t recall, it might possibly have been after the big flight, October I think, 1947, breaking the so-called speed of sound, that that was the ozone layer in reality. The boy who wrote the Planet Trillophon was probably “made from” Chuck Yeager’s ejaculation and-or that of who’d ever descended the little boy Yeager, really, that it’s so “gross” that it’d been difficult to type, I’d had to quit once so far just to get away from the gory description of bits of pus and bone in a hallucinatory hole in his cheek, etc.
Here’s another one of the bitlets: Champaign County was organized in 1833, having been previously a part of Vermilion County. The county and county seat were named for Champaign County, Ohio and Urbana, Ohio respectively, the homeplace of the Illinois legislator who sponsored the bill to create the county. The development of the county was greatly furthered by the arrival of the Chicago Branch of the Illinois Central Railroad, and even more by the establishment of the land-grant university. Later, the county also got an airport and a mass transit district. The northern part of the county experienced an economic and demographic setback with the closing of Chanute Air Training Center in the 1990s. In the 2004 Presidential election, it was one of only 15 of the 102 Illinois counties where John Kerry received a majority of the vote (50.37%). — My, Kathy’s, point is only that the relative who’d written the only extant biography so far on John Hopkins of Baltimore and that whole area of Maryland down toward Annapolis had only been six years old when he’d passed, had only briefly ever seen or been around Mr. Hopkins, her great-uncle, but the most time she’d spent with him had been one evening when he’d picked her up and gave her champagne to drink, that she’d like it very much, is about her only personal recollection of Mr. Hopkins, and the way that this system works is that it’s likely that anything they’d gotten stuck into that book had some or another “semiotic” or deeper meaning to itself, so I’d learned that David F. Wallace had come from Urbana-Champaign and was (can’t use certain words, w********) trying to figure if that champagne incident could be connected to that area outside of Chicago’s being set up for this anthropophagy- and imprisonment for that -system, and from this background blurb on the area it looks like that that’s exactly what the system was sneaking around setting up. I left that bit about Mr. Kerry in there because he comes up a little if I ever got through some of this mass of the little bitlets of pieces of all this world-takeover by mentally ill people details, to go with that Eugene Hasenfus photo above here somewhere, and then that all connects to the Iran-Contra business, that all of these things are just pieces of how the brain-eaters have been going about setting up for themselves to Limitlessly! have a ball for themselves on Earth, without all the “grim” naysayers, who are just the plagued near to death normal people, as the Autists had extincted the food. (Kerry had only sort of signed some paper without full awareness of what he was doing his first term as a senator I think is the way that had gone, that the signature had enabled the operatives to go ahead, to this point, in their world-set up via their big brain-eating secret plans onto the planet. It’s a really touchy subject, scary for me because of the being all alone business versus the world of the brain-eating doo-dooheads.) — My cellphone accidentally ran all the way down so that I can’t get that photo yet and go along with the way I was/am trying to do.
Instead I came up with this, that this is what I found just before I then found this whole set of alleged or purported youth photos of the “Infinite Jest” author that had (allegedly) passed in a horrible 2008 business, etc., for that I find the s* word difficult to ascribe there and-or in general anymore. I’ll have to save this then try to find my way to here and see if the link works. — It did. It looks as though there aren’t words like the title and author’s name, on the spine of the book cover. This photo then matches the bunch “discovered” or found in the archives in Champaign or precisely how the wordings go, where I’d stuck that into the file where I’m typing that Planet Trillophon.
— The animals turned off my sending the photos that I can from the Johns Hopkins book now, this being the day the book has to be returned to this library. The LURE is so creepy right on top of me that I’d started to panic and try to think where else I could go instead of this what’s become just the same shuttle as all those years in Washington of this sneak power-grab off of through me, then the sitting bums decide to quit letting the email-sends through and that backs-up what I’m trying to get done, the same way that cutting off responses to my communications has done, so that I’m just sitting stagnant while this animal system feeds off of me. They’re making me sick and I’ll have to take a break to try to clear the air a little. They had what seemed like some ritual set of goons planted here earlier to fulfill an Armageddon acting-role set and those finally left and the photos quit coming in and my day’s almost over with, time for trying to reach a human without this insane criminals’ system all over me. I’d gone to try to send this better image of the 2 Johns from the Ghent Altarpiece, that obviously those had come up from Italy, the same as the “Emperor Otto III” had tripped up to Poland, the same group sneaking around high on brains and believing that they’re superior to ordinary people. I don’t seem to be getting any further trying to reach Fort Huachuca than I had any other place all these years. The bums have created all these places, and they’re ruining all my timing for getting the book, for getting what I can out of it, that that Johns Hopkins business was a major piece of this “game” puzzle — the monsters are crawling all over me, it’s disgusting all the time all over the world and they’re relentless, always making these doo-doo Jurassic Park noises outside of wherever I am since I left Washington and the noise is more noticeable; I know they’d been doing it sporadically in Washington but I hadn’t realized it was one long continuum like this which I do notice now. In around 2010 or 2011 I’d gone to bring one of these letters-for-assistance I’m always writing, like this is a computerized long one, to the American Anatomists Association, on account of this one lady, Florence Sabin, that had been their first female president back in maybe 1921 and I’m thinking she might have been one of my ancestors, a big subject of this invisible and unprovable abuse that they’d practiced all these tortures on, and when I walked out of the convention center where they were holding their meeting there was one of these “Allen Ginsberg-types” standing outside like to greet me or some such, manic-looking like with happiness it had seemed, and after that I noticed that the roaring noises I’d sometimes seem to hear to the traffic noises when I had to make a long walk across town did seem like that type of the manic “magician” affect, that that could have been from, and the last few years they had that film and some similar one’s car-chase accidents one playing all the time at the shelter in the evenings so that I was always hearing this “Jurassic Park” noise and the bums are doing it outside here now, that this is just a horror-day, and then they’ll be doing that filthy LURE underneath the place I’m stranded in, and there’s never any responsible-adult allowed around any of this, filthy noises, total stranger criminals all these decades, with that Allen Ginsberg/Konstantin Tsiolkovsky/Man In Oriental Costume face-type, and their Krakow “staircase-beings” orcs everywhere anymore, etc., that everything is just disgusting. For what it’s worth to mention at least the library is sending a copy of this book:
I guess they’d used this, with contents that appear to have nothing to do with anything I’m doing or talking about, as one of their hallucino-ritual semiotics that somehow “stirs up” into getting their desires “magically” done for themselves. The author-photo looks like one of the 2 “magicians” I’d “vision” been visitated by in 1998 when I was being made ill by themselves, and they showed me how the illness was made so I thought that had been useful but they never did anything like that again, I never saw this one like in the photo again either but in retrospect he is a little like one of the fraud-uncles I’d had. Yesterday they had a guy who looked like one of the “offspring-descendants” of that fraud-uncle near me as I was walking, hobbling or whatever, to go get that postcard, which I then did get mailed off this morning, making me a little “late” for here as I feel that they’re frittering away what little time I’ve got by holding up on the 2 more photos from the Johns Hopkins book, letting 2 through and withholding 2, which may or may not ever reach to here by the end of this day or at some other time. What I’m trying to get at is that I’m starting to become “near-hysterical” that it’s July already and there’s no getting out of this rented room in sight for me, I’m starting to get hysterical-feeling inside as I face going back to that room alone with all this c***, the Allen Ginsberg and global-system, all these strangers and nobody on earth that I am acquainted with in any way, all this, encrusted on me and not any hope of finding a human to assist me, and the monsters feed off of this growing horror, like ever-malicious things they always have all over me, like the Jurassic Park monster noises waiting outside here, etc., all this is getting to me, making me feel frenzied to — and that’s the Armageddon-gimmick, is that it’s like the Perils of Pauline damsel-in-distress gimmick these bums sit in hiding waiting for nice people/nice males to care to lend a hand to assist even just me out of this let alone all of reality, and then the bums pounce and disappear whoever the nice is. I don’t know anything about anybody but myself, that I don’t know anything about this fraud-uncle or any of the fraud-family or other individuals. The guy might have been a stranded normal person or he might have been a dangerous “undergrounder” for all I could have any idea whatsoever what part in any of all this he might have had, only the coincidence that he and Ginsberg might have been at the same school, Columbia, around the same time period, post-WWII.
I’d tried to send: Johns Hopkins at the age of 40; from a portrait in the Johns Hopkins University, as the frontispiece, and then opposite page 70: Johns Hopkins in Later Life.
There is some big link-up to back to England, in this genealogy in the book, that I probably ought to get copies of some of this. It looks like the guy had caused a whole underground-Baltimore, (and thence the world.) It is so bad I’m thinking that the big deal about Lincoln could even have been that there’d been a “real” Abraham Lincoln who’d gone through the becoming a lawyer and the political election process and then the stop-over secrecy in Baltimore, the Pinkerton business, was to switch that guy for the actor-Lincoln character. Who might really have come from Johns Hopkins, him born 1795 and Lincoln born (early in) 1809, and an identity-replacement could have been slightly younger and posing as older, kept hidden behind security after the hard part of the election was over with. That’s how sneaky all this is. Then when he wasn’t hidden behind the wartime-security, when the Civil War was over with, they had him “disappeared” through that 10th Street, NW, in Washington that’s right near that Mies van der Rohe-architected library I’d spent most of this millennium in. I didn’t visit the Ford’s Theatre because I’m all alone, same as I couldn’t chance going to the Space Center here, and now this month I can’t even figure the finances, that sometimes it’s five weeks’ rent out of the same amount of the social security and this is one of those times and somehow it’s still a little unexpected for me how low that brings me down, and then any vulnerability on my part makes the system more bloodsucking, more prone to pull am ambush onto me, the little weakness of being slightly more broke, which is why I didn’t feel safe to try to get to see the Space Center and now I’m just trying to save to get out of this hole I’m in, and since I can’t save on the “fixed” income I’m getting panicky that I’m really not going to be able to reach any human. Things are going really badly, and then Sunday is a down-day for being able to get much of anything done with all but one of the libraries closed so that makes me feel worried also as time goes and — I can’t survive these winters and being alone like this let alone the 2 together, can’t think to go through another horror-winter of the s.o.s., etc. The big link-up with England however is the subject, that it’s difficult for me to make copies because this garbage on my head makes it seem like it’s illegal to make anything. Somehow this morning I’d had some thought-connection to that — oh, that National Geographics magazine, that that was largely a photo-based big deal, photos of all the places all around the world they’d specialized in, and anyone who wanted to show other people the pictures was probably spied and pounced upon all the time like this same thing is on me, these life-wreckers’ doing this, You stole my work, obsession “-fixation” as how they’ve been feeding themselves since they’re developmentally disabled serotonin-dependents who don’t participate in the normal peoples’ ways of doing anything, etc. — I had taken a photograph off of the search-engine that is copyrighted to National Geographic but I’m positive it’s Fair Fair use anyway but this roaring Alexander Graham Bell Jurassic Longfellow Avenue Park monster -type on my head doesn’t let me do anything to speak of let along anything to do with their pet projects like National Geographic. There’s a super-big real-life reason why I had to have a copy of the photo both for all this past but also then they’ve got these people, ladies only I might recognize some of them, made from Mrs. AG Bell, Hubbard’s daughter, all over me back then, shortly after the car-hit but also they might have had a big “sting” operation going on before that too that I hadn’t noticed.
mr and mrs alex g bell:
I’d been looking up David of the Psalms and came across this by Tanzio and then went to see if Mrs. Bell had maybe looked like this depiction of David and saw felt it necessary to make a photocopy of this set of photos off of the search-engine even though the specific one where it does look like there’s a genetic-connection between the Bells and the painting is said to be copyrighted by “NatGraph.” I haven’t had any chance to write to them yet about a permission on my even having a copy of this photo that seems like it’s their personal property. I’m sure it’s fair use in general and then it’s fair use for my purpose in particular, because as time went along then I realized that the lady I was looking into the subject of David because of really probably is a descendant of Mrs. Bell, that they’re all over the place as system-operative but in this particular instance I’m thinking that perhaps there was some entrapment purpose to teaching “David” how to and to behead the Goliath that there does look alot like Bell, that then Bell’s type has got this generational “grudge” maybe I could describe these weird brain-eaters’ thinking, against the Mrs., an excuse for anger-tirades and in having them addict-dependents they can forward their “how to get a supply” Armageddon across the world like this. I’m scarcely an expert of their or anyone else’s private lives of course, but I had the example of the lady that had caused me to be looking into the subject of David, and there was some big thing about that ambush-massacre to and around Rep. Gabrielle Giffords of Tucson in Jan. 2011, and then that one that I’d mentioned that was around DF Wallace, in learning a little more about her she’d had some big accident-set also, that it seems like it’s all toward the purpose of creating the global serotonin-getting system. And this has been going on for many centuries plus then originally, before the “Jomon” like the Alexander Graham Bell and Hubbard types had gotten into the situation, the entire “downfall” of the human species like this I think had been forwarded by some original-addiction way back when the “extrapolated” or posited lost early people had errantly gone to the New World and were battered and recuperating in dinosaur nests. The errantly was the original problem that led to the general “Autism” developmental disabilities-set, but I think then it was exacerbated by finding the dinosaurs’ food of psychotropic plants growing over here, in the western New World Americas after the errant forcing their way up north and east to force-cross Beringia, due to that it “looks like” the sun rises up off the mere ground from somewhere, is complex to realize that we’re on this massive-sized planet that goes around the sun, — if I hadn’t traveled so much I’d likely be doubting that right now my own self as much as I can’t trust anything I hear or read about anymore nowadays, etc.
7/22, Monday, it seems like there was a “big-kill” yesterday, the atmosphere all I can ever go by, always like this. I probably should type the little list of things I’m trying to quick get to to get them off of my mind before I feel I could start today, etc.
re-compare Matejko and Hubbard
Washington from Poland
tt Sielbers from 1939
Jacob Schieffelin Phila 1757
add about the “lime” flavor== that I can never eat any “lime” since I realized that the system equates foods with multi-translated things and they think “lime” has to do with lie to me or me lying or what, but it’s terrible to never be able to taste the fruit and I want to make it clear that they can get themselves and their weird “real meanings” to things off of me and that that goes for the lime flavor that I’m going to get next time if I ever happen to see this again, some ice cream or sherbet/sorbet that’s lime-flavored with a mango topping, a tart or a torte they call it, and I had to pass it up because of these — this “devil” people have been selling their “souls” to, many simply because they’d be killed otherwise and didn’t have any option except just to die otherwise, etc.
add Phineas Gage, that he could be where Chuck Yeager had come from
check Iliad for “thee” and “thou,” as the biography had mentioned that Johns Hopkins’ mother had memorized the Iliad, they used to read it at home together and around the house such, might be where the Quaker mannerisms were really about, sic
check George Fox
add Breda = lens in that photo, I’m thinking the system thinks it owns anything to do with lenses because of that sneaky bit back in the 1600s, painting of the Treaty of Breda or Surrender of the keys to Breda or what, that they’re passing a “magic” lens there. Check glass-making in the Cevannes.
And the “point-counterpoint” way that this nonstop-torture does, that they’re nano-morons all of the time. I’d merely cleared up a little clutter a couple of months ago, for example, and had thrown away the unnecessary old receipts for the weekly room rental. The next time I paid the rent I didn’t get any receipt but after that it’s been normal since. Apparently just because I’d done anything, put those into a pile to go out someday soon, the invisible anonymous torturers had to also do something to do with the rent receipts and so they’d “told,” however this works, the boy not to give me the receipt as usual, not any reason for it, merely interference based on the parasitic sitting and watching me. It’s/they’re that way with everything, they have to have their hands on everything and everyone. I guess I didn’t yet get to what I’d gone to the downtown library for yesterday, in that I got ambush-inundated with what turned out to be a Colombian festival in that area near the library and City Hall and Sam Houston Park, the torture went ambush-apes*** because they own anything to do with any of all the global-cultures, but this was like a decapitating frenzy, just a horrible thing to have found myself in and they did their “menacing weather” thing they do to me all the time because I seldom can carry an umbrella and ideas-of-reference that I could use the toilet and turn back around and leave the area because the buses are all detoured and it’s a little difficult to get to where the detour-route, and in fact the first bus refused to stop at the stop I was waiting at as though it was a wrong when when there aren’t any designated detour-bus stops, etc. for that it was just a horrible experience but I nevertheless got my way to the book I was there to try to look up, in their children’s room, which was like empty nearly, one kid sitting there. The book seemed real nice but as I’m thinking about it I’m realizing that it was “magic” -made to be like a ritual against me making any progress, which did work. So now I think maybe I should look for non-copyright violation summaries of the little kiddy’s story that’s actually like a “spell” against kathy foshay’s being able to get anywhere with the “all this” I’m alone with, that — it’s that an evil and greedy king had stolen all the stars and a little princess and servant-girl manage to restore them. Hm, that sounds like I ought to be able to do that except the way the “magic” works, their doing the ritual “restoration” (then) cancels out the real life one, is how they contort the whole world to death, no matter what you try to do. It’s like reel life (film) versus real life, and the reels win over the real. — It’s the book by that lady I’d sent the email pasted-in above here to, the Ms. Jackson. I’d come across her name because I’d been looking up astronomy in Arizona and run into difficulty so then I was looking sort of just anywhere or anything that might be interested in this and somehow her group had popped up and at a quick scan of her website she has alot in common with what I’m talking about her, interests in astronomy and astronautics, in fact I ought to then paste-in the email I’d typed last night and sent when I got in here, because shortly after I’d typed it and set it aside for morning, and then another one the same, then my internet-connection was disappeared on me, ran out just like that, I can’t even send photos or anything again now. Let me go get a copy of what I’d just mailed to her when I got to this “other” location I’m always only in, like shuttling back and forth shelter to library and back again same as those 10 years in the Washington shelter as the system’s been working-up all this power to where the airport has those big pictures and the advertising slogan for the hospital that they have the brains. — Also I’d wanted to include something about that that I’d gotten from a politician when I got out of the hospital in Maryland after the car-hit in 2015 and now I’d only be able at best to try to make a pdf about it. It’s another thing I haven’t been able to discuss with anybody, I’m just alone with all this horror’s strengthening itself off of me all these years and decades.
To: astronomy group. On the Subject line I wrote, Kathy Foshay read the Cassandra book…
That’s near-exactly my problem only in real life. It’s so similar that I figure it was one of the system’s “‘magic’ rituals” to work against me and anybody else in this situation that the normal people have got from the insane “evil and greedy” king/s. I hope you looked and saw where I’d specified astronomer M****, that they’re all over in all the fields doing this insanely-greedy world-takeover. Your story’s alot like their 1939 “The Little Princess” film. To their hallucino-think they replaced the stars with Hollywood stars, and on and on it goes. I looked up Bright Skies and they seem too young to be able to assist and their parent-company is located at one of the places that might be a big part of that “Infinite Jest” lethal horror “entertainment” off of me that’s been a big part in this sneakers revelation, so that it doesn’t seem likely to be useful for me to try to contact either of them. I might have to try to contact Ms. Gow about a summary of the story I could use as an illustration of the evil king/system. It isn’t just disappearing some of the world, their parasitism will eventually kill all biology. It’s like the heavens is just holding it’s breath and can’t create or function (properly) while this is going on here. I’ve been all alone like this and the system tells inquirers to ignore slutty me and then shows the marathon of lethal video cartridges but that’s just one part of this off of me, the insanely greedies don’t change, are unending with this horror. I’m trying to write to a fundraiser here but she’d likely have less self-defense against the bums than you. Your interests in astronautics is all interconnected to what all I’m trying to get through about bit the evil keeps me squashed down and I can’t live much longer, obviously, etc. — I hope you’d know anyone who could try working on this real “universe rescue-attempt.” Sincerely, KathyF.
— Wow, they’re on a fundraising webstart, Kickstarter, that they’d had to pay half and the publisher paid half — the group behind the publisher, I mentioned it in the email, they’re located on the Presidio in San Francisco, and I’d had something, dirty, happen there. In fact there was that big “McMartin” I think it was, pre-school scandal a long time ago in the 1980s or ’90s, — I was there with that in 1982. I was homeless and my former army boyfriend had let me stay in his barracks room while he was away… I’d been staying there the 2 of us in the room and then he went away and I’d masturbated alot or some, but there was some strange silent guy across the hall and in retrospect it seems that he was also doing that, that I’d guess that some sort of that was in this collection that I think the system had been all along making of me — see, I haven’t any idea if photos can be taken of my “magic” hologram that I figure this invisible-torture is done by but it was always silent until 1992 and then this 1993 “formal” opening of this “Armageddon Show” horror, etc., but they’re molesting me now merely because the subject’d come up, any sort of an anything, a tampon ad would send them bonkers so I have to avoid anything that would excite these parasites, and therefore this “Infinite Jest” pornography subject — animals, get the f*** off of me, — has to be avoided as being too exciting for the torturers. Let me check on that McMartin Preschool business, that was in L.A. maybe, and before that was a or the Presidio preschool scandal, where I’d have to try to find the dates on those incidents to compare them to that with me on the Presidio in 1982, harmless well-meaning little me but unaware of these “Allen Ginsberg” et al. breeds’ living off of this. There was some bit, — the torture is disconcerting. I’d thought of some one of these inter-connections’ timing this morning to do with that then they’d gone into the Watergate era, back then, to do with after the moon-landing probably.
en dot wikipedia dot org slash wiki/Day-care_sex-abuse_hysteria == this doesn’t mention the Presidio — Then I’m finding more and the Presidio scandal was all invovled with Satanic things and a retired Lt. Col. Michael Aquino who had started a Temple of Set there in or around San Franisco I guess. His name was familiar to me when this Armageddon Show had been opened, but I really don’t want to go into the whole “story” because there are so many little details, and I’m trying to find the Cassandra summary and then to type at least another page of the Planet Trillophon business because that is what I’m doing here, trying to explain the Autism that’s behind the system, that we have.
This has got some background: dot whale dot to/b/aq2 dot html
the event chronicle dot com slash uncategorized slash case-highest-ranting-lt-colonel-michael-aquino-satanic-pedophile slash — Maybe he looks alot like Lorne Greene the Bonanza actor. It seems that he’d long been stationed at the Presidio is how he was involved, that he’d just been long-living on or around there. It was claimed that at the time of the crimes he was living in Washington, his house just there, where the Presidio is a real big place. So, I was there with my weird little situation of the odd next-door guy that I guess I hadn’t noticed him until I was alone in the place and it started seeming creepy to go out into the hallway to use the men’s latrine. In retrospect I can’t recall anyone else’s living in the building or on that floor, using that same bathroom, just that one guy. All I else recall is that I’d thought of him as being “The Walker,” that I could hear heavy steps or some such when he went to the latrine. As that retrospect went on and into this Armageddon Show marathon-horror it occurred to me that he was one of the “fraud-family” type of the fraud-parent or his fraud-nuclear-family-relatives, that that went toward creating some horrifying “obsession” over owning me attitude that this probably always was supposed to be about, that that’s even why I refer to the situation as fraud-parent, that I’d grown up with that adult grown male that was thinking about making babies off of my eggs and Limitlessly! having females for sex/abuse/brain- and food-eating. — Back to Cassandra, but the Presidio does come up in that the group that paid for half of the printing and publishing is on the Presidio there. I think I’d read that they bought this Houston publishing company in 2007. Then Ms. Jackson used this fundraising so that she and that company would each pay for half of this book’s being published. (As soon as I can I’ll have to get to that I’d likely gone with this “Armageddon” guy in San Francisco and his parents had likely been in that church of Satan, and then also Mr. Aquino had branched out from that S.F.-based “alternative religion” which is what they largely were, that they’re from the same religion-creators. I’d started trying to discuss that and put an illustration of the British Mr. Mathers, probably of the Golden Dawn group, but I got off onto other subjects, that the alternative ones are just a modern advancement from the earlier ones, the system just wants to control people so it thinks up religions for sponsoring them and building this global-system by then that we’re in.) My being on the Presidio unawaredly with the followers invisibly on me had probably added to the tendencies toward evil but that business is really bad, ill, etc. — Now I recall that that 1982 was the same semester I’d signed up to audit an astronomy class but after one session I’d had to drop it because I was too busy and knew I wouldn’t be able to get anywhere with figuring out what I could see through a telescope. That comes up into this about Dr. Mayor’s next 2 exoplanet-discoverers but to my knowledge they didn’t start there until 1984, me in astronomy class only 1 day in January 1982. I went back the next week to get the drop-class-audit paper signed by the instructor and he had looked a little like the exoplanet-discoverer and so I’d checked his resume and he hadn’t started till 1984. Also it was a little odd that the instructor had notably seemed disappointed that I was dropping the class, as he had plenty of people there and wouldn’t miss an audit and nobody ever paid attention to me. That also reminds me that I have to fill-in somewhere with this “evil Dr. Carfagni” business that I’d had an early Geology professor of that type and then that same semester as dropping the Astronomy audit I’d taken a Creative Writing class. I don’t recall if that was for credit but I failed it, and the instructor had looked like this “Raymond Loewy -type,” et al., and there had been some terrible set up there where I could not quit laughing at some serious-seeming thing some guy was reading, that it had to do with his writing from the point of view of a female and that just struck me as ludicrous, a white guy writing about a black female’s being raped on a railroad train back fifty or so years ago, I couldn’t figure how a guy could think he knew a female’s mind to write about that and, yes, I’d gotten high just before class so then I wasn’t able to contain my laughter, badness showing, but in retrospect it must have been a premeditated curse set up, for toward this world-takeover by the underworld people-manufacturers, brain-eaters set up….
the childrens book review dot com slash weblog slash 2018 slash 11 slash cassandra-and-the-night-sky-by-amy-jackson-book-review dot html
Cassandra and the NIght Sky, children’s book summary:
Long ago an evil and greedy King had stolen everything and then the stars too and people are used to living without them. A nursemaid gives the Princess Cassandra an old teapot and the princess gives it to a servant’s child who then sets up a tea party and they discover that, like Pandora’s box, the stolen stars had all been stuffed into the teapot. The princess calls to her pet swan and they fly to release the stars, battling a scorpion the king had also set into the teapot. Mission accomplished they return to Earth and everyone’s got the normal night sky back again. — Then the story’s a learning device where the characters are shown in the real-sky constellation and you’re encouraged to make up your own (connect-the-dot) stories about the real sky.
Then I’m supposed to explain that in the year that this was published, 2016, I’d been having this same astronomy difficulty of never seeing any stars so that I was/am really unsure that they hadn’t been stolen but I’ve been relaxing out of that lately, and I’d just emailed one of those exoplanet-discoverers before the car-hit and then telephoned him from the hospital, about this universe rescue-attempt, that the system doesn’t know what it’s doing with the “tin can” space rocket way of getting into space, breaking the ozone layer in order to do that, etc., and then when I was released in 2016 the only place I could find to go was a place where they had these “activities” where I had to do some drawing sometimes and I’d made something for trying to reach the Procter & Gamble company by. The blue and yellow and white pencil-colored picture is the point (from a color-in book by Thaneeya McArdle;) the text is typed into the caption below, don’t try to read my handwriting:
So it’s an odd-seeming coincidence that when I was stranded having to make pictures once in awhile that this Cassandra and the Night Sky book has beautiful color-pencil illustrations, and I have this exoplanets business on my mind, where the first 3 exoplanet “discoverers” seem to be of this “Jomon” -family-type that has been doing this Armageddon in real life, as I can see all over the place now, etc.. I’d wanted to bring another example from when I got out of the hospital/nursing homes but I can’t send photos now so we’ll see if I can put a pdf sometime this week — that I have difficulty doing anything with these blobs’ sitting on to parasite off of me and distribute to their global-system family, — but it’s about sending brain to where I’ve been saying since at least 1998 that I figure the “magic” system is located under, all the way on the other side of the world, that I’d written about that while trying to get assistance from anyone in these hospitals and then when I got out there was a creepy piece of election campaign mail that had arrived at that homeless shelter in Maryland while I’d been in the hospital, the whole thing and everything that happens to me like script-directed for toward their Armageddon.
Cassandra was a Trojan character, cursed to tell prophecies without anyone’s believing her: /en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cassandra
Odd coincidence of a girl, lady, named Cassandra K. who wrote poems last year about the night sky and about the Apocalypsters.
— Maybe it was the “Thunderdome” trending that the system had done, that I was trying to place chronologically, that that’s about the undergrounders’ screaming into pigeons-like-me’s heads like this blob of c*** set like the Allen Ginsberg -type. Maybe they learn to do that in warlock-school, which I think they really do have, that those “666s,” the manufactured off of Aleister Crowley masses had gone into instructing alot, and they teach “selected” of course only children how to perform their tricks. But they’re only tricks, is always my point, they’re just practiced ad infinitum tricks in place of normal life activities like developing normal relationships.
— HistPhBiblio dot pdf == I was looking up Scribner’s publishing and noticed the founder’s brother was a pharmacist, and while looking up for that came across that so were Schieffelin’s and I’d never heard of that name anywhere except where I’d lived from ages 8 to 18, the neighborhood after the French Connection time-period.
histphbiblio == it isn’t working as a link. I can’t really read it on the cellphone, my vision and concentration are lousy, and not time for it either. Tomorrow I’m supposed to run some errand — these people probably just ran some curse-ritual on me, I’m always a sitting duck as all these strangers do these weird things. — I can’t find anything on either of those long-ago pharmacist-sets.
check Henry Hamilton Schieffelin, HH Schieffelin & Co. Pearl Street to Maiden Lane to John Street; added Hoadley, Phelps & Co. circa 1848, retired, leaving the business tofour sons, Samuel Bradhurst, Sidney Augustus, James Lawrence, and Bradhurt Schieffelin (sic) = Schieffelin Brothers & Co. They established an office in Titusville and became the first company to ship petroleum to NYC; 1865 Wm H Schieffelin & Co — because of Prohibition they shifted from drug to alcohol sales, and it’s too much reading, me finding this on Funding Universe site and them taking the write-up from the Intl. business encyc.
One Hundred Years of Business Life, 1794-1894, New York: W.H. Schieffelin & Co., 1894.
Over 200 Years of Growth, New York: Schieffelin & Somerset Co., 2002.
good obit = times machine dot nytimes dot com slash times machine/1909/03/11/101871006.pdf
I have to be suspicious of what happend after the Longfellow Avenue French Connection network that had led to this whole underworld global-system’s power-grab off of me, that it would figure that there was something “fishy” to the name Schieffelin…. 7/23, Tuesday, I think I recall reading the name in the Oil Region book company’s recent biography of Edwin Drake. Maybe it was that there was a Schieffelin & Co. selling the petroleum as internal and external “snake oils” or some such, good for your innards or you can rub it onto sore spots, as an emollient. Then I woke this morning recalling that they’d first lived here in Philadelphia and that my pronunciation of Schieffelin likely isn’t the revolutionary-era pronunciation of the name, that it could be more like, she-fell-in back then or chief-fell-in or chief-felon or she-felon. But “falling in” is how they’d trap people to become disintegrated to the hydrocarbons of becoming “petroleum” oil. Then I recall that it seems a good chance that this North America had been populated with people, who’d built houses sparsely around and been “disappeared” and their houses taken over then by these “nobles and royalty” Autist-types. That “Apotheosis of Washington” in the dome of the Capitol building has a depiction of the wheat-goddess’ daughter holding a pineapple and those are said to be native to the Americas, meaning that the wheat-goddess might have actually been here and not over in Greece.
— As an aside, my pictures have lost the feature where I can type up alongside them, somehow. It has seemed to come and go, same as the internet service on my (lifeline) cellphone. It seems important, the girl with the pineapple to our right of Ceres, but that boy, now there is the Autist boy, and that red hat he’s wearing, the so-called Phrygian cap, en . wikipedia . org/wiki/Phrygian_cap, that’s on both the Army’s and the Senate’s logos, the Army’s saying, This we’ll defend. I see it all the time, (was supposed to see it twice again today when I run my errand but I really had to come here to add the piecelet about Schieffelin, that nobody could piece that together on their own it seemed.) That little Autist-boy is the same source of all this world of heading for extinction, to my figuring, as this one on the far right on the “Ransom of Hector” Greek pottery piece:
This is in the big museum in Vienna. That’s the same sort of the “Autist boy” there over where I’d put that white circle for a page number back some time ago. That’s the “departed,” the dead, Hector laying across the bottom just above the white circle and then that’s the Autist “Patrolclos” (or Patroclus it’s spelled,) standing just above there and looking back at the others. According the the “Iliad” account/story Patrolclos was already dead before this scene came up in the story and so that isn’t him according to anyone but me, me saying that all these centuries/millennia later we should have learned that we have these underworld tricksters and faking their deaths is one of their common ploys and I think that that’s the key to the Iliad whole Trojan “war,” and that it was an invasion by the tricksters, not a war, just a “rampage” against “the normal people.” To my thinking Patroclos and the boy in the Phrygian cap are the same Autist-types, and then Phrygia is right around that general 7 churches of the Revelation book and assumable site of the Trojan “war” and it’s just part of the system’s modi operandi of patterns.
en . wikipedia . org/wiki/Mygdon_of_Phrygia == Mygdon led a force of Phrygians against the Amazons alongside his aides Otreus (another Phrygian leader) and King Priam of Troy, one generation before the Trojan War. Priam mentions this to Helen of Troy in Book 3 of The Iliad. A part of the Phrygians are said to have been called after him Mygdonians.
“Ere now have I journeyed to the land of Phrygia, rich in vines, and there I saw in multitudes the Phrygian warriors, masters of glancing steeds, even the people of Otreus and godlike Mygdon, that were then encamped along the banks of Sangarius. For I, too, being their ally, was numbered among them on the day when the Amazons came, the peers of men.” – Homer. Iliad, Book 3, lines 186
Here’s a good write-up on the circa 1860 Schieffelin business: bottle books dot com slash Wholesale %20Druggists/Wm%20Schieffelin%20%20Co dot html
— They’re doing a horrible bizarre act-world-scene in this place. The trip to the library reminded me of the “hallucino-Mondays” pattern as I left the shelter on Monday morning after the system’s LURE big-kill Sunday nights, that the parasites looking through my hologram-head or however exactly they do it were very high on brain they’d “raked in” during the Sunday night turn on the LUREd victims, the air creepy with this then on Monday morning and this morning was/is like that and then they’ve got this obnoxious — same set, the type of guy I’d mentioned a week or so ago and then this “retarded Kathy” character they use as they do this off of me, they’ve got that character reprised and real loud and “being helpful” in showing people how to work the copy machine, that it all seems semiotic for that they’d killed alot of my “type,” people from my ovae and any “nice Americans” in general it runs out to, they’d decapitated and eaten their brains and now everything is mellow and singsong-high and then this retardo-act is showing people how to get “cop-ees” and everyone’s thanking her, like “the stupid, crosseyed girl” showing people how to eat more of herself for themselves for the “Armageddon” system. In fact they’ve been having the noises, noise-attachments to my head, shrieking the sound crosseyes! at me like every 20 minutes since all day Sunday it was, like that’s a reason for killing me/my type, go ahead and enjoy because they’re only crosseyed mistakes anyway, is what it’s seemed like, the crap still doing that this morning and now. They’d started this crosseyed them right when I wrote requesting those 1959 photos that were like rehearsal for this “Kindergarten” one that has photo credit YMHA on it, that I use alot as explication:
Because I’m looking down the photo-ambush was sort of a failure so they’d switched tactics from setting me up to be looking conceited to saying that I’m selfish, and I’ve been requesting copies of the set taken just a few days before that where I was even wearing the same clothes, because there there’s a good look at my face and eyes and I wasn’t any crosseyed until after all this sabotage started for their Armageddon world-ownership business, etc. When I mailed that letter — which I’ve mentioned that “caterpillar” scene before except then I’d found a caterpillar there on the bungalow property also, but this recalls that when I was researching Gardiner Hubbard, Alexander Graham Bell’s father-in-law and a big deal in setting up that National Geographic magazine and so much else to this world-takeover, I’d come across a mention of his of “our Post Office” and anymore it’s become obvious to me that that must be the situation, where underworld-people-manufacturers must have set up the post office via something for all their people-births to grow up to be doing anyway, that the employees are actually all from the underworld-system’s creating the post office etc., and those don’t think I have much or any business at their post offices and so I always have difficulties trying to buy stamps or any of that, and that’s what happened when I’d written to NY for the little old photos of myself before it’s too late and they’re thrown away, about 4 months ago I’d done that and the system started doing this trick of softly vaguely unprovably saying Crosseyed somewhere off behind my back while I’m sitting at these terminals, maybe once a week or 5 days but it is so vague that you just shrug it off and that sneakiness as a ritual became more frequent and then they grew to this shouting it into my head all the time increasingly, as they create this problem and its cover-up that they do it by all this purposeful leaning on that side of my head as they’re doing this Armageddon/French Connection and things back to 1959 and then in whatever all past lives my genes have been through.
snaccooperative dot org/ark:/99166/w6891k2q == the Schieffelins were all over the place; their papers are at the New Haven Yale library, CT. A 1779 scrapbook in Kentucky. And something big-maybe at the DuPont’s Hagley Museum and Library, Wilmington, DE.
One of them had also mined in and founded Tombstone, Arizona, not far from Huachuca. Check William Field Staunton, 1852-1947, U of AZ papers. Tombstone Mill and Mining Company.
New York Druggists’ Association, 1806, Henry J. Schieffelin, Secretary, from a write-up by Otto Raubenheimer, Nov. 1927, on Wiley Online.
1821 Philadelphia, College of Pharmacy
I’m trying to figure out how they’d known to be right on top of the first oil well output, Drake’s. I’d guess it was because they’d helped to get it ready, during the earlier “Revolution” here, with that Henry Hamilton. Separately I’d read that both he and Jacob Schieffelin had been taken prisoner and held in Virginia but I’d have to find both write-ups to see if it was the same holding-place and time. Then of course also where exactly they’d come from in Germany. The only place I’ve found mentioned so far is so land-locked, Waltham, Germany. How had they gotten to wherever the ships were, their ship was, etc., for if they’d come over as part of this conspiracy or that that had evolved over here, etc. The best write-up so far is probably this Funding Universe site. I think it was Samuel Bradhurst Schieffelin that was behind the contracts on the Drake oil and maybe 5 years later his son took over and ran the company for a long time, but these names and dates of strangers’ aren’t ever interesting to me and especially not after all these years of doing this, reading biographies of other people, etc.
en dot wikipedia dot org/wiki/Tontine_Coffee_House == this comes into it a little as Schieffelin had partnered with a guy named Effingham Lawrence or events to that effect as Lawrence is said to have been a druggist but then I can’t find that elsewhere, just that he was a realtor and merchant and then that schieffelin had married into an in-law relationship with John B. Lawrence, all down there by Wall Street. However, the word tontine, defined to be an investment plan, also is maybe familiar from the Drake biography where he’d stayed at a hotel by that name, the Tontine hotel, in maybe New Haven or thereabouts, while doing railroad work. All these different “conspirators” running around and having huge families; some Quakers are mixed in with these Lawrences, etc.
ordinary New Haven dot com has a little on the Tontine, and that’s the hotel there that Drake always stayed in when he was there, working for that New Haven and where else railroad that went , new haven and harlem maybe it was, but it was a little bit only in the Bronx that I could find, around 149th Street maybe only, maybe it was the New Haven and Long Island Railroad, one of those.
The Schieffelin companies published 2 books on their history and I think I found a review of their “100 years in business, 1794-1894” first book and that there’s reprinted a picture of what looks so far like J. Schieffelin, where he’s got a common-type face of the system-people’s. I’ll see if I can get a photo but it’s barely discernible. I’m going to claim fair use and not bother the Am. Assn. of all-time Druggists and Pharmacists’ publishing companies about this. Or the Schieffelins wherever they all are nowadays.
Now that that’s done it’s looking like it’s an in-depth review and I ought to print out its 3 pages, illegible by me and mostly redundant basic facts of the family member’s names and dates and places, who were in this drug business. Right now I’m only trying to focus-in on who started buying Drake’s oil and I don’t even really want to do this on this torture-time. While doing that I found this from doing this same sort of the search-engine search on Gardiner Hubbard, about the post office:
Somehow I’d missed making a note on the location of where he’d lived while in Washington, that I think it was over in Virginia a bit. I’ll probably manage to try to look that up again soon, obscure bit of info. But I think his type had a “stock” people-growing investment in the post office also probably. I wonder where its main office had been, probably in Washington but where exactly. Their big facility is out on V Street in the NE I think, and their main post office I guess is that next to the Union Station, that that’s mostly where I’d go and get “whirled” all around by the unprovable tricks. For me to make photocopies has become like a major production, this one costing 45 cents but then additionally I hadn’t had any change yesterday for a couple more pages of that Autist-like Planet Trillophon that is actually what I’m supposed to be doing here after the archaeology in general, looking into this which I’m labeling Autism and saying is the root of what had extincted the dinosaurs and is more or less forcing us to planet and species extinction. Also I have to tear myself up out of the seat to take some sort of a break for warmth or the system-bums will decide that they have a cover-story for making me ill for sitting in the cold air conditioning for so long like this. Plus I have to eat something and etc. for being human and neglecting things while doing this seeming to have nothing to do with anything historical looking-up that I guess is conspiracy to create the petroleum industry off of murder victims, really. The Ghent Altarpiece figures are connected to the Romanian Dracula family and the mess in Transylvania left big “petroleum” deposits and if nowhere else they’d learned to make petroleum off of disintegrated humans there from what had happened where Dracula had operated. (Vlad the Impaler from DF Wallace’s first novel.) They went into “chemistry” of things to do with that muck, not to mention hiding the evidence of the mass murders, and brought that over here and must have “pit-pushed” the people living here plus whoever they wanted from what they were growing in the north and where else, and in Schieffelin’s time they went from drug and railroad uses of the oil then to the cars that would use it up that we have now, that there was some of that family in Detroit also. But it all comes from insanity, like snowballing off of developmental disability and mental illness into this “pointless” insanity that runs everything we’ve got now and won’t let go and will let all of biology die off rather than just, starting with letting go of me. There isn’t anything I’m doing that I couldn’t be doing without being tortured, that this is about all I can really do, read and write-up my findings and try to figure out how we got into this extinction-direction and how it could be gotten out of, 26 years the same thing I’m only trying to do and my head doesn’t require to be sat on, just the opposite of this, etc., etc. I have to try to send these 2 jobs to the printer, turn this off and get them any time later today, doesn’t have to be right away. — Nobody’d believe how difficult things are for me to get done. You can’t print out pages of the G* Books it seems, and for me to be able to find this again after a break seems like a needle in a haystack. It looks like one of these “invaluable” to a nerd pieces though. I’ll try to get back to it. These people seem to have been from south Germany, not a connection with the von Humboldt’s that the little picture’d only put me in mind of, that Alexander von Humboldt big deal in all this and the type’s slavery to the system.
books dot google dot com/books?id=ainnAAAAMAAJ&pg=PA167&lpg=PA167&dq=effingham+lawrence,+druggist,+ny+ny&source=bl&ots=1TpAa4anAl&sig=ACfU3U2Em7cHp_mfgqCQVftP4uhg7JWUhA&hl=en&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwj5hv2gx8vjAhVGS6wKHS46BF0Q6AEwAnoECAkQAQ#v=onepage&q=effingham%20lawrence%2C%20druggist%2C%20ny%20ny&f=false
4pm, I typed 2 more pages of the Planet Trillaphon and have 4 left but I have to print out more pages and only have enough on me for 3, big decision on exactly how to do that and whether to continue typing, etc. I don’t like to have opinions till I’m finished with something but I skimmed ahead and I really think the kid has got what I call the Autism or the classic Autism and it’s near impossible to believe that that’s any the same person as the one of the 2005 Commencement speech, yet that water subject sure comes up, sensation of being trapped to drown. It just doesn’t seem like the guy that the biography was about was the same author or the same as the author. I don’t know what “these bums” of the vision and voices b.s. do and have been doing with other people. I’d never taken it seriously in some of the ways, and now I’m reading this where “the little soldier” David is super-sick, is what I’m talking about with the Prehistoric-descended Autism /-psychopathy with the dependence on brains of others, the Prehistoric-descended Autism of the accident-set that became the accident-set that extincted the dinosaurs might somehow have some clues to that in there also, but I can only stand so much typing and I had to take a break and have all these other difficulties of me out here that’re on my mind. I have to make the errand to pick up some piece of mail that’s come in at the VA and yesterday was too dangerous after that “Colombian” weekend decapitating fest that seems to have been going on, any day after any holiday is always a continuation of that for me with this beast on me. In fact that’s on the next page to type, he writes, in this semi-short story piece, that he and the Bad Thing boarded a bus to go … etc., and that’s poor little me, carrying this insane brain-eater that’s destroying everything because they just want to eat brains, just want to be high — so here’s this Wallace writing all about that same thing, an inner illness that is all-pervading. I won’t be able to finish it till the end of this week, because I have to go do that errand, first I didn’t feel safe bringing this Bad Thing to the VA on Monday, that’s for sure, then I was going to go today except it seems too important to at least try to record it that the Schieffelin druggists went into petroleum-buying right away. Then their Lawrence early partners/in-laws had a Titus Lawrence and I’m realizing that Titusville had likely been named after someone named Titus, that being where Drake’s well was, after it’s being filled with “fell in” people the century and more before that, that route along the Great Lakes and then left into the woods. So this Bad Thing, what I’m then supposing is that the ill little boys like is describing, (perhaps through the Wallace boy without so much actually being the Wallace boy but doing this “magic” voices thing through him perhaps,) ran into these Jomon and the the Jomon became their homosexual party-partners and have always been helping the sick little boys to feel better, hence to getting brains for themselves off of all this torture to me these decades since 1962. The Autist boys have this Bad Thing of jonesing without any drugs and the Jomon “make them feel better” by giving them brains and then they homosexually party and have that Limitless! feeling that they are better than ordinary people and so it isn’t a crime to kill ordinary people in order to support themselves. I’m saying that 50 years ago they found out that they were all wrong about the nature of space and thinking they’re smarter should have quit back then but hasn’t at all and they’re taking down the real world in this quest to stay high with their “little buddies.” I’m also saying that I have to tear myself away from all these fascinating boys’ histories of themselves and go food shopping and have to figure out how to do that, the logistics always being ridiculous for me. The thought was that I ought to leave here like now. There isn’t much point in printing out the pages for the next chance I’d get to type because I can’t keep lugging papers around and etc. logistics. The bus to leave the shopping place quits off like at seven thirty p.m. so if I hustled I could just make that and have an easy go of it instead of sitting here doing this stuff that isn’t helping me out of my present emergency-situation, etc. I can’t go do that errand tomorrow unless I can bring lunch with me, it’s alot of energy to try to function through this “Bad Thing” or evil-off-of-that-Bad Thing, that they’re virtually the same, together for centuries/millennia anymore against little me. I can’t think of any way to help myself except that I’d sent that postcard on Saturday and that today or tomorrow it should have arrived, me asking to get a telephone call about the photos I’d requested, that I’m expecting to get some sort of a reply and I’d checked the email and it wasn’t in yet and I’ve been “constrained” in waiting for that, all my communication efforts quit, were strangled off by this Bad Thing and I’m hoping the postcard would break that stranglehold.
7/24, 4pm, I’d logged on and the monsters started molesting me and I accidentally grazed the off button or some such on the library’s terminal and the screen went away. I should still be logged in when I turn this back on, is why I’ve always been scared that some monster — I have to log out again now, no kidding. — Back again, the “Jomon” bum-type, they’re likely mentioned in this “Planet Trillophon” as being a Mr. Film that “the boy,” DF Wallace the short story-author but this is peculiar, like “ghost-writing” for some voice, transcribing for some “warlock” maybe, and while trying to get this blog back up here in one piece, sic, I printed out another 2 pages but there won’t be time to do them both, then 2 more tomorrow and I could see what this is, after I pay out the dollar-twenty or whatever to get a paper copy of it to try to go back over, etc., that it’s pretty exciting for me that he seems to have the inherited Autism. This Mr. Film had a joke that goes something like, What’s the color of bowel movement, or maybe it’s feces in this story, and the kid would just smile slightly without answering and Mr. Film would say Brown! Har-har-har! because that’s the name of the college the kid was signed up for, and really that might have been the kid’s run-in with these Jomon people, directors, manufacturers of the human race now that live off of me, besides everyone else that they live off, that have been, as, sitting on my head for sixty years.
— So far nothing from anybody, today being the big day that my postcard should have been received and I’d guess I’d get an immediate-type response….
7/25, Thursday, they had the creepy plant girl they have working here just do a scene of saying Battle of Los Angeles over/through my head to the regular creepy male plant they have here, really aggravating to have them making a fool that I can’t do anything but be a sitting duck while they do “tricks” like that, run around in circles around me doing these annoying rituals all the time. The she and they all always have the excuses that they’re only following forced-directions from central directions from somewhere. I guess I’ll have to take a break to try to shake off the annoyance on top of all the invisible-tortures.
5pm, here’s another possible identity-switch, where the guy who’d written the poem that became Puff the Magic Dragon somehow looks different to me from the first time I’d researched that, Lenny Lipton, he just seems to look like a different person “role-playing” being Lenny Lipton, maybe, and it’s just that I’d somehow seen a small video he’d made of himself singing the song and while he was doing that he’d beaten up a small, inflable-toy green dragon and then put it in the fireplace as he finished up the song, yet now that has become him singing the song while reading it from the 2007 book that was published and then looking over a fancy green toy dragon, checking its horns and teeth and such. It never seems possible that the families and all could be faked but it seems like the “system guys” do this all the time, this Lipton being a “Jomon” -type hybrid of the kind the first Lenny Lipton I’d seen had seemed to be. He might have taken alot of pictures of himself for all I know as he did all kinds of stuff with lenses, and maybe he’d just done a cleaned-up update of the home video for the book’s release. Maybe he’d beaten up the dragon because he hadn’t received proper royalty-credit for the original poem that’d led to the song and so was annoyed every time he heard the song, felt he was getting robbed, but now the book gives him credit right up there with Peter Yarrow that he’d written the poem to. In the meantime I’ve gotten myself into the little situation where I forget to re-charge my cellphone and then I can’t both recharge it and take a break and it’s way low so I guess I have to just sit here, and taking a look now it looks gorgeous out, shame to sit in this cold library and unable to think of any way to get this devil, “Mr. Film,” off of me. (Per that Planet Trillaphon story, I’ll go proofread my typing now and try to get it printed out because it seems basic to all I’m saying about the premature crossing of Beringia that had led to the illness that led to all this that’s leading to TOTAL PLANET EXTINCTION.) — Here’s an outtake of my explaining start: It looks like his accident with electrical appliances in the bathtub is/was subconscious-symbolism for this prehistoric accident-set of forcing the way over Beringia in futile attempt to reach where the sun looks like it’s “rising” that had caused all of the de-evolution that’s leading to the TOTAL PLANET EXTINCTION, and that there’s alot of other such symbolism in this short story (purportedly) by DF Wallace, where I really think that the one at the 2005 Commencement was a “ghost writer” forced to transcribe for people with what I’ve been calling prehistoric-descended Autism that’s taking us to extinction so let’s use all the resources that the 20th century had worked so hard to give us and get this straightened out now before it kills everything.
6:30pm, this terminal cut off on me again.
Tomorrow I have to go downtown to pick up a book, though it could wait till Sunday if something else came up. All I think about is how to get a contact with a human so I won’t be stranded like this when it gets cold again, that this is the only good time of year for me so I try to make the most of finding a contact but I’ve been doing this for the past decade. This Planet Trillaphon is helpful but I don’t have anyone listening, and the internet-system is probably getting worse each day, used as a people-hunting weapon mostly it seems, per that weird Mr. Film in the story. Mr. Film is weird because the planet went askew when the one group forced its way over Beringia — it even sounds like they might have been part of the tribe that went to cross Beringia and some, like the bus driver that the guy, “kid,” figures he’d killed, might be like what had happened to the “Jomon,” they’d gotten side-tracked off of being able to stay with the group by an accident that I’d thought might have come from the weather.
7/26/19, Friday, terrible standard Armageddon Program going on, me at the Central library here…. The Schieffelin people I think had established or founded Tombstone, AZ, which I think is near you. I’ll call up the maps….
He’d been a scout at Camp Huachuca.
Nothing positive has happened, not any sign that there’s going to be any relief for me from anyone.
7/27, Saturday; I made some actual error, I have to go back to the store and pay for some meat that I’d said I’d been rung up for that I hadn’t bought, said the clerk had rung me up for two packages when I’d only bought one, and a different clerk gave me the money back. It was a typical trick-set, the brain-eating “Jomon” always knowing in advance what I’m likely to buy and I’d just picked up 2 plastic bags when I thought it was only one, now I have to go back to the place after here today, due to the holocaust that goes on till any error is corrected, which go back to since I was born and likely the generations before that by my ancestry, real or imagined.
Boy, I miss how the word-processor was putting the words on the sides of the pictures, that was so helpful. It’s as thought the system works by having underground people working these things, like even the telephone maybe. So now I’ve got “parasites” that don’t know how to do that particular feature and I can’t wait till they’re replaced by someone who does do that feature. I’ve only had it a very little bit in these 4 years nearly. I’d noticed it once and it went away and then it’s been back for the last few months and boom it’s gone without any explication. — The guy on the top faar left, pointing at the writing in the book that I think is gilt-edged, him being said to be the prophet Zecharias/Zechariah generally, it’s like he’s torturing that old ancestor of mine. I think it’s perhaps because those were like her own or her family papers and she’d carried them in that turban she’s wearing and they were confiscated and she’s being inquisitioned as to the content. When she tried to describe “God” to these developmentally disabled islanders gone berserk from their new New World invading friends these “Jomon” misinterpreted what she was trying to describe about “God” into anthropomorphism that she must be talking about a Zeus-like spirit, only, and the Jomon took that to be that if Zeus could be God then so could they or anybody else be and be in the stead of Zeus, that they would replace Zeus as being “God” of the planet, I think is alot how we got into this TOTAL PLANET EXTINCTION-headed situation.
I started feeling like exhausted and thirsty as soon as I walked into here today, that I’ve got so many different types of details I’m trying to get to to fill in this nonstop begging that I can only do — like the girl depicted in the white turban above, begging and begging to get out of this imprisonment to these “Jomon,” — there is such a wide array of subjects and I got here and instead of feeling okay I’ve got this errand tonight to run for nothing, just that this “Jomon” is using my error as Armageddon-leverage, has my mind all boggled up with the exhaustion of having to make that errand tonight and this “punishment” for making the error, which was like a trap set for me to walk into. It’s like the Jomon run the supermarkets and it’s an ordeal for me to try to go to nearly anywhere. In fact it started when I walked out of the downtown library yesterday, that it had, as I’d figured it might, slipped my mind that I’d had an errand to go run and then that I hadn’t checked the bus map for how to go from the library to that errand but somehow I was able to think through all this c*** on my head to how to make the bus transfer and “the emergency” was over with, but this invisible and unprovable Jomon was like stirring the Armageddon-brewhaha to begin this frenzy that they are always trying to pull, and the mere error of forgetting I had to leave by a different route had the thing stirring the brewhaha cauldron, world-cauldron, over my head ready to “jump off like crazy” on me for this typical transportation logistic. It’s been 26 years and all my lifetime of this c*** and it was almost a coincidence only that I happened to be able to recall where the transfer-bus is, but even then I wasn’t sure which direction it’s one-way street was, was the bus going south on San Jacinto street for me to get off of this on at or was the transfer-bus one over from that in either direction, and this Jomon was just stirring-up the Armageddon-brew as though the one block difference that I might have to walk, block and a half maybe, was some big life and death deal. This goes on all of the time, any excuse for making torture onto my skull. There was nothing to it, from my immediate reaction upon recollecting that I had the errand to make before the place closed at 8pm to where a bus to get there would be and narrowing it down to realizing that it was just down the street one block in either direction from whatever stop I got off of, and then “they” had 2 fraud-family-type characters waiting there at the stop doing little tricks to stir up bad nerves, over nothing, over this gorgeous weather, a pleasant evening and 3 hours to get to the place and get back out of there and whatever else I did after that wasn’t too important, just that I had to go get some money and do a little food shopping, so then I’d walked into this dumb thing of not realizing I’d picked up 2 of the plastic packages, but additionally I do this thing, since I’m weak and can hardly carry anything, of sticking whatever bag I can onto this little oxygen-cart-wheely cane I have to use for help walking, and they did some similar “trick” by the bread and I managed to get the bag I got onto the wheely-cart but at the cash register I forgot to put the bread on the counter and also I wasn’t watching what the guy was ringing up but it came out about what I’d figured because he hadn’t rung up the bread but rang up the meat twice so I hadn’t noticed the difference but was on my way out when I saw the bread and went to the self check-out and paid for that and then caught my breath outside and had “the semblance of mind” which I would have been better off with at the time, to look and see that the guy had rung up for 2 packages of meat so I went back and the self-check out girl said to go to that particular girl over there because customer service was closed by that time and that cashier just took the receipt and got money from a different cash register and gave me back the 3.49, in front of the guy that I’d thought had misrung the items. So now I have to go back to the store right as soon as I can, not let it wait until Sunday or Monday when it would be convenient because this haranguing Jomon, “Zecharias” or what this type is, is going to be perpetrating Armageddon till this is rectified. They already had a bunch of women’s cloths filling the garbage bin at the bungalow when I went to take out my trash before leaving, because otherwise they’d been putting or getting roaches into the room so I have to take out trash no matter what or that might happen again and then there’s this overflowing with ladies’ clothing mess in there, like those had belonged to the death victims so far because I’d stolen meat. Les Miserables all day long every day. (Which I haven’t read or seen, just heard it was started by some “stolen” bread, which is part of the Autist-accusations syndrome, neglecting to mention they were from long-lost extincting the dinosaurs in the New World is why they didn’t have anything like “the others” had had in the Old World then, etc., Trojan “war” same old same old.)
2pm, I managed to send the first Word document I’ve been able to do to the printer, that Planet Trillaphon thing, I think it would help me to cut apart the paragraphs and see if putting it in chronological order might help. It’s sort of bewildering that it’s similar to his situation but sounds little or nothing like himself, sounds like some other kid, which I think it really is, with Wallace as a ghost writer prisoner like I might be either out here as the subject had come up at the beginning of this Armageddon Show off of, to, me, where I was being forced to write for a cartoon-like “spirit” of someone out here and the subject was so ridiculous I never paid any attention to it, same as with the whole “voices” subject. When the “Show” opened up I’d said-thought, So, this is the infamous “visions and voices.” Well, since “you” the system have already killed and devastated millions of people with this business, like I’m the last to finally find out what it is now, let’s skip it and move along. It really never occurred to me until finally lately that the bums were only getting better at fixing their weapon. They’d used it from their WWII so much that I didn’t think it was necessary to show power in that way anymore but apparently they planned to control all the new “manufactured” people with this business I guess, and it seem that most but not all people are subjected to this. It seems like “DF Wallace” was more like a role that we victim-type humans could play as a way of staying alive. Yesterday I looked at this big book they made on his stuff and it makes everything seem “legitimate,” another word I’m afraid to use because after I’d used it a first time I’d seen an amputation of a leg and so I don’t like to use it. Now that I sent it to the printer I have to go pay for and retrieve it and anything is such a process for me, like I always have to sign out of here because they might “play tricks” if I walk over the few feet away and there might be an accomplice that waylays me and I get back here and this is gone and maybe the whole terminal is re-cycling and I have to wait till it comes back so I can log back in and then out sort of officially, so I might as well do that logging out and combine it with a break instead of this “ridiculous,” another word I don’t use because of the “castrating” that the Jomon et al. might make out of that — that’s another thing, these head-starers, that I’d wanted to see if the library had the short-story he’d written about that “Girl With the Curious Hair,” and the catalog said they had a copy but it turned out to be a different story from the anthology by that name. When the “Show” opened alot of these things had seemed self-evident to me, like that this head-staring is parasitism, and they do sadistic “tricks” all the time, but it’s “sacrilegious,” to tamper with someone’s brain, etc., but then, to learn how to do this “mindreading” and its attendant tricks, only a (real) moron would begin to do that head-staring that led to working up all these tricks now, that it had to have had a moron, some developmentally disabled person, to begin doing such a boring thing. And there’s a Wallace book cover with a girl’s head in profile like that, but the particular story I’d read did have to do with a girl staring (under the influence of lsd) at another girl’s hair, so I want to find a copy of that to read it for myself, but otherwise I’m not finding much of this “subconscious symbolism” that I’ve been looking for for over a decade now, that goes to the Autism, that when I narrowed the terminology down to Autism I’d found a couple of pieces that were great examples of this subconscious symbolism from the afflicted but then it’s been more than 10 years and I’d looked as much as I could, thinking child psychology would be full of examples like in this short story and there just hasn’t been any more yet and not anymore (sic) that I’ve yet seen in the Wallace work. — Separately, but then I didn’t want to just leave the library because I wouldn’t be able to get to here in time enough to make it worth while to come here for me to be able to do some of this typing and looking up things because this’s all that’s keeping my sanity, I don’t have any other communications, I just have this “freak Jomon on my head” as I go about everything I do when I get up from the keyboard and for some suspect reason these things are at least always quiet while I’m doing this whereas otherwise they just make yammer- and threatening noises, so I hadn’t wanted to pass up the chance to look up and type anything and I was up to this business about Tombstone, AZ, the Schieffelin family. They’d started into petroleum in 1860 and Ed and Al founded Tombstone in 1879, that they were aware of petroleum and drugs (serotonin I’d guess, also,) and gold/silver of course, and so what were they really doing out there, setting up underground-world is a possibility. Who’d authorized the Camp Huachuca, was where I’m left off at now. There was some General or what named Crook that was a great Indian-fighter so I have to find out if he was involved in Huachuca. — I found a nice photo of him in the Tonto Basin for you but then some button accidentally got hit when I went to send the photo and the terminal went off so I had to wait to sign back in and now out again. Nothing on him and Camp Huachuca yet, etc.
Southwest Association of Buffalo Soldiers dot org, Fort Huachuca History: .The area has been inhabited at least since 11,000 B.C. Lehner Ranch, a mile and one-half southwest of Hereford, Arizona. It was here that large projectile points were found in conjunction with several mammoth remains, indicating that spears were used to bayonet the giant animals, probably after they had become mired in the marshy bank of the San Pedro River. (Hohokam) .Fort Huachuca itself was a product of the Indian wars of the 1870’s-80. .In February 1877, Colonel August V. Kautz, (1828-1895) who had recently succeeded General George Crook as Commander of the department of Arizona, ordered Canadian-born Captain Samuel Marmaduke Whiteside with two companies of the 6th cavalry to establish a temporary camp in the Huachuca Mountains. Whiteside’s mission was to protect settlers and travel routes in southeastern Arizona while simultaneously blocking the traditional Apache escape routes through the San Pedro and Santa Cruz valleys to sanctuary in Mexico. After reconnoitering several sites, Captain Whiteside selected a location in one of the canyons on March 3, 1877. From his own official report, it can be deduced that he selected the location because it contained fresh running water, an abundance of trees, excellent observation in three directions and protective high ground, so essential for security against Apache tactical methods.. (He was commander till March 1881.) …Watching their fathers participating in the parades in the 1880’s and 90’s were two youngsters: Malin Craig, who as Army Chief of Staff, 1935-39, had the mission of preparing the United States for World War II; and Fiorello LaGuardia, famous Mayor of New York City, 1933-45. Adna R. Chaffee, Commander of the American Relief Expedition to peeking in 1900; Leonard Wood. Participant in the Geronimo campaign; Colonel Grierson who organized and commanded the 10th Cavalry, 1866-88, and Colonel Grierson’s son, who served in 10th Cavalry from 1879-1915 — 1954, control passed to the Chief Signal Officer, who discovered that SE AZ was an ideal area and climate for the testing of electronic and communications equipment. As a result, the U.S. Army Electronic Proving Ground (EPG) reopened Fort Huachuca as an active Army post and from that time on it has steadily increased… In 1967, Fort Huachuca became the headquarters of the Army Communications Command (USACC)…Then in 1971, the post became the home of the Army Intelligence Center and School, bringing with it the School Brigade...The arrival of USACC and the Intelligence School in recent years …
*Anything to do with Laguardia is bad, system’s “staircase #1 type” major mass-reproduced stereotype underworld-worker. — I can’t find anything on Malin Craig’s father.
army at wounded knee dot com slash 2013/09/04/major-samuel-marmaduke-whitside-commander-of-7th-cavalrys-1st-battalion/ (I cannot figure how this photo’s in color…)
Miles was from the Boston-area, middle name Appleton: In December 1880, Miles was promoted to brigadier general in the Regular Army. He was then assigned to command the Department of the Columbia (1881–85) and the Department of Missouri (1885–86). In 1886, Miles replaced General George Crook as commander of forces fighting against Geronimo, a Chiricahua Apache leader, in the Department of Arizona. Crook had relied heavily on Apache scouts in his efforts to capture Geronimo. Instead, Miles relied on white troops, who eventually traveled 3,000 miles (4,800 km) without success as they tracked Geronimo through the tortuous Sierra Madre Mountains. Finally, First Lieutenant Charles B. Gatewood, who had studied Apache ways, succeeded in negotiating a surrender, under the terms of which Geronimo and his followers agreed to spend two years on a Florida reservation. Geronimo agreed on these terms, being unaware of the real plot behind the negotiations (that there was no intent to let them go back to their native lands). The exile included even the Chiricahuas who had worked for the army, in violation of Miles’ agreement with them. Miles denied Gatewood any credit for the negotiations and had him transferred to the Dakota Territory. During this campaign, Miles’s special signals unit used the heliograph extensively, proving its worth in the field. The special signals unit was under the command of Captain W.A. Glassford. In 1888, Miles became the commander of the Military Division of the Pacific…
Underhill, Lonnie E., et al. “The Tombstone Discovery: The Recollections of Ed Schieffelin & Richard Gird.” Arizona and the West, vol. 21, no. 1, 1979, pp. 37–76. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/40168798.
jstor dot org slash stable slash 40168798?seq=1#metadata_info_tab_contents == that this looks real good.
Journal of the Southwest
University of Arizona
1401 E. First Street
Tucson, AZ 85721-0185
7/28, Sunday, with this little time to think on it it is seeming that the voluminosity on the “Wallace” type of writing beginning with the 1984 Planet Trillaphon piece could “conceivably” be connected to that I’d sent a small suitcase of this typing to a publishing company in Fall 1982, Chas. Scribner & Sons or what their title was right then, as then I’d gone to look them up on the search-engine and noticed that one of the founder’s brothers had been a druggist and in trying to get details on that I’d run into the Schieffelin name, which does happen to have been at Camp Huachuca shortly after its founding and then founded the nearby Tombstone. I’d read somewhere that Ed and Al had sold their Tombstone mines (for maybe 60,000 dollars,) but I didn’t make a note on it, in 1880 already to either Philadelphia or NY people, who might have been Schieffelins, and then also there are a couple of people from those days who were from Baden, Germany, sort of coincidental to have so many Germans there in Arizona around the Schieffelins, a family from Germany, maybe also from Baden but my geography with Baden isn’t really good, it’s always confusing to me in that area, like how this Schieffelin family had gotten from such the landlocked area they were from to a ship to make the crossing.
I have something terrible going on where it was like a feces-fest at this bungalow I’m renting a room in and there’s a new “Babar” stereotype in the next room and he did something a little creepy with a mop bucket this morning, after that bizarre gratuitous filth with the toilet’s being disgusting last night and this morning. Honestly, since I haven’t gotten any response of any sort on trying to reach “milint,” it’s occurred to me that maybe this is PsychOps being perpetrated, but it’s also the standard operating procedure for this “Armageddon Program” of all these years, that it’s always been an expected “incident” type to do that filth around the toilet I have to use, goes with this c*** “Jomon” on my skull, the hee-haw insanity “entertainment” and syndrome-set. I’m sorry to get off onto that subject but if it’s coming from milint could you all please change to human-like mentality about my situation, — like right now they’ve got the guy in the next seat sneezing repeatedly, tricks like that. That reminds me, that I’d long been figuring that alot of this “‘magic’ show” might come from Queen Victoria’s ovae’s being taken to Colorado and around 1870 a pair of sisters were born and then it’s possible that I’m one of many people birthed off of their ovae, the one sister going to Chicago, Vermont, Massachusetts, Baltimore, NY and then retiring back to Denver and I’m thinking that back in youth these “Jomon” as East Indian types under the Rockies or in the mines under Central City there near Denver had started practicing-up this “magic” that had been worked-up off of Victoria, — like in that recent film, that I haven’t seen, just the commercial for it, 2017 or 2018 film Victoria and Abdul I think is the title, that that must be total hogwash but is an indication of the “Jomon-types'” being all over and under Victoria, with that type coming I figure from the Sabines of Italy, probably near where these old art pieces I’m trying to get to had come from/been found, the Praeneste and the Homer relief-sculpture pictured on the first blog page.
It seemed to me that the Jomon had specialized in the younger Sabin sister, Florence Sabin and I’m trying to learn about her but it’s seeming to me that she was somehow identity-replaced, maybe more than once, — similar to what I’m thinking was going on with the DF Wallace recent business. When Florence left Denver and wound up at Smith College and then Johns Hopkins’ medical school for a long time I’m thinking that this same sort of the underworld “magic” had followed her and put on these filthy “shows” or “entertainments,” to where they were real well practiced by the time I was born in 1955 and this filth was started-up by 1959, that it isn’t any “magic,” just generational brain-eaters’ working up that alternative lifestyle for themselves so they could take over the planet and that all of it is foundationless, that we’re on, that their “book of life” type manufactured-births like Alexander Graham Bell were HIGH, developmentally disabled but very high on serotonin nobodies and they got their way and got to space and their type/s ignore the findings and proceed with this world-takeover and have been doing it off of “tricks” like this breaking the toilet temporarily and making believe that watching my reactions is “entertainment” for their petroleum and brain LURE slaughters way of life, etc., that the signal came up that the time is up at this terminal now, etc.
7/29, Monday, the animals are all over little me unrelentingly all the time, a******-garbage all day long every day. They’re gimmicking on some trick, in addition to all the others, that they’d set up some DFW Literary Trust that I’d just learned about and looked up and it’s a trick, a mind-game standard operating procedure Jomon-trick onto my brain that it’s legally required of me to contact those entertainment lawyers about me looking into this DFW business and right now the school-piece, the Planet Trillaphon, I’m trying to put into chronological order and this “Jomon” doing the whole or huge part of the Armageddon off of me is mixing up copyright with this making further things off of whatever “DFW” had “written” and-or transcribed for the underground a******-moron Jomon/s. So they’ve got one of their plants here went into this mouth-routine the underworld things all get taught how to do, acting-routines they’re only about, not any human usefulness ever permitted, etc.
I can’t think through this business I’m trying to do and that’s one of the purposes of this acting-plant role doing this sneak-torture. I had to move the seat. I’d also gotten the first edition of the “Signifying Rappers” that I want to start trying to discuss because this is all b.s., b.s. that’s mixed in with my teeny life and the total extinction of the planet Earth, in non-cartoon.
— And the side-typing alignment or what is still gone. What might be — there it is. And here I am, covered by awful people, peoploids all of the time only, in place of humans. That book cover should be lightened and re-sent, the bums, the invisible garbage underworld whatever they are are always darkening anything I try to send, I can practically see, catch them at it, that as they lounge around me, etc., and sabotage anything I try to do. I nearly always have to send this photos two times because of that, there’s not any reason for the picture to come out so dark. The bum finally just now shut its mouth with that animal-act, nonstop blah-blah-blahing about anything just to run the noise and voice-vibrations to darken reality, make reality into crap while I’m trying to work here. They run that scam two, three times a week.
It’s a slightly different photograph. Now I want to try to do a little quick typing for some other aspect of all this….
14 December 2018; Dear Mary,
Happy Birthday, Many more!
The LURE off of me is so bad I’m afraid to give an address, even a zipcode!
Get someone to send me an email/gmail note. firstname.lastname@example.org.
I’m trying to explain the system through use of that “Limitless” novel, film and then a TV show, if you have any interest in that.
I thought Houston would be warm but it isn’t. I saw a hint today that the system is going to force it to snow here, too. I’d like to visit the Southwest next year and it’s convenient to there.
Season’s greetings to everyone,
(on the smaller new letterhead, without the url, the address and phone # struck off) 2/9/19, Sat; Dear Mary,
I saw that there’s another gmail from you except that it only says on the top line that it’s forwarded and that’s a little scary for me because I don’t know and can’t guess what it might be! I usually only get bad news and I can’t stand any more difficulties, like you had mentioned something about courts previously, and there are “copies of Foshays” around here ever looking to stir up trouble that you might not know about and I don’t want to hear from the originals so I’m nervous to open the gmail, don’t want things popping out at me, all alone here!
I’d appreciate it if you could cushion it by a line or 2 to say what you’re forwarding. “Here’s a note from so and so” or any such warning of contents, etc.
Otherwise everything is as more or less usual for me. Wasiting for the nice weather; have become a sun and fresh air worshiper.
Hope all is okay by you all,
(on the smaller letterhead) Feb. 28, 2019; Dear Mary,
I hope everything’s okay.
I haven’t been able to get “clean” envelopes yet for mailing this or anything else, without “curses” on them!
I have to ask where the lawyer is and what the terms of the trust fund are.
I don’t want Jacqueline involved in any of my business. That’s one thing I was afraid might be in that forwarded gmail/email. We don’t have anything in common, etc.
Wish Mandi a Happy Birthday in case I can’t get her a card, and whatever the usual congratulations are about having a baby!!!
On the opposite note, I’m trying to learn about that guy that had written those horror-books that include that “Son of Rosemary’s Baby,” passed in 2007, he’d written about 8 such horror-books, and was from the Bronx too.
I hope to hear from you real soon. Love, Kathy
(small letterhead) 6 March 2019; Dear Mary,
I did all I could to “exorcise” these new envelopes I’d bought and then couldn’t use to write back to you last week. Please give the card to Mandi but throw away the envelope in case of bad luck still on it.
Thanks. Love, Kathy
— The cards were probably cursed too, come to think of it now. I can’t be superstitious because the system curses everything I do, but I don’t like to spread it around. Maybe just read it to her and throw it away too.
(same letterhead) March 9, 2019, Dear Mary,
Thanks for the gmail with those details.
If you’re moving maybe you could come across the set of pictures taken by the photographer when you were a baby, just a few days before this “Kindergarten” photo of me I’d come across in an old encyclopedia. I think I’d been wearing that same skirt and blouse in the pictures at the (first) apartment on Longfellow, & maybe just a blanket or some such on you. I could really use a copy of some of those to better see what I’d looked like then. This “Kindergartens: was a tricked-photo, wrongfully taken by a trick on me. The rest of you were in an interview with the Housing Authority and I was scooted into that playroom, etc.
Thanks in advance for looking into that for me.
(sm. letterhead) April 7, 2019, Dear Mary,
I hope everyone is well.
I’m so sorry not to hear back from you on my request about that 1959 set of pictures! I can’t describe how badly I have to see those, copies of them. I figure you know exactly which photos I’m talking about.
Please let me hear on the status of them, where they are in terms of availability.
I hate to confuse the situation by mentioning that I could use one of Grandpa Lou also because I barely recall what he’d looked like, and what year or date he’d passed on, — 1964? 1965? 1963? — but don’t let it delay writing me about the 1959 photos, please. I hope everything’s okay. Love, Kathy
(sm. letterhead) 20 June 2019, Dear Mary,
I’m “having kittens” over why I haven’t heard, received, those little 1959 photos yet. I hope there isn’t anything wrong by you all.
Did you ever hear about or read anything by that fiction writer who passed in 2008, DF Wallace, (David Foster.) I just found out about him. His “Infinite Jest” book is likely inter-connected to this LURE I’m always complaining about.
I hope everything is normal by you all & I’ll be hearing from you soon, etc.
7/20/19 (same) Greetings from Houston, Texas postcard — Dear Mary, I can’t guess why I haven’t gotten those little photos yet. — Please telephone me. Love, Kathy.
7/30, Tuesday the animals are getting worse with this having me the ghost-prisoner all to their Armageddon but I can’t “encourage” them by typing about it; will try to make longhand “jotto” notes on paper but seldom get a chance to because of the being homeless and can’t just buy more paper to then be carrying around with me. 7/31, same thing.
Aug. 1, Thursday; This blog is really like a disaster, and I notice that now I’m using this as though the Chronological mere warm-up for trying to work on it, etc., because I can’t say, God or the word help either because the freak on my head purposely mistranslates anything for toward their world-takeover “Armageddon,” etc., reason I’m trying, after all else hasn’t done anything, to reach milint, and guess what, I’m finding that perhaps this Fort Huachuca is what the system had gone into off of the 1969 moon-landings final results in that there isn’t anything out there that the system knows how to use for money-making or having power over anything except that everyone and everything is fear-hostage, like that the heavens is holding its breath to not stir up anything with these psycho-parasites, but that they’d opened this great base, and then in fact in 1932, with the publication of LSD-afficionado Aldous Huxley’s “Brave New World” they had alluded to having something of a base out there, a tourist-camp maybe, in New Mexico per the novel, but that 1879 Sonora Earthquake puts me in suspicious-mind that they’d “Gunpowder Plotted” to build a big city down underneath that area. And then Junior Rockefeller (1874-1960,) had lived in Tucson for reasons I don’t have any idea why, till he’d departed life, that they were likely building-up whatever’s all under there back then, etc., and then in trying to look into what had happened with the Schieffelin mine-holdings I got 4 names and one leads to next trying to look into Gulfport, Florida, that he’d had alot of land in Florida, Mr. Dissunt I think his name is, and then Prince Maximillian of Wied I have to quick try to check where Wied is in relation to wherever these Schieffelins, who are likely still all around somewhere as many of them as there were, had come from, in Baden, Germany. But my big thing is that since finding that cute Y2K logo I have a yen to try putting these “highlights” of how the monsters have been doing their Armageddon off of my horrible tiny little impoverished life since about 1960, onto the sidebar here, in the widget-modules, one illustration you could click-onto for each notable time-period, have a yen to get started doing that, plus I brought my copy of the letter I wrote to this nearby Houston Space Center that, ever hurting my brain trying to think where I might be able to find some responsibly-behaving human to extend a finger of support in assisting me out of this sneak-Armageddon LURE here in my impoverishment but still with the social security cash to be able to support myself off of that I’m not totally indigent plus the big point is in looking for anyone that would care to get everything out of this gratuitous TOTAL PLANET EXTINCTION. The animals are doing a scene right now that makes it difficult to think, as usual. They’ve got some “planted” wierdo-character that’s likely a manufactured “orc” off of 2 of the fraud-family reproductive organs’. It is a lifetime “play” of a farcical “Asian” person, but really looks like something they made from some ill combination of fraud-family generations’ together, my fraud-sibling and a fraud-grandparent put together and raised in Asian culture and here doing some sort of an act all these 10 months of doing what looks like some complex and maybe top-secret computer spy-type work or what, and never speaks to or acknowledges my existence but is generally on the buses even when I go downtown on Sundays, is always around spookily like that, and now a whole uncustomary act of some shrill high-pitched voice like some sort of a crazy person that might go off, and come to recall, he’d walked by as I walked to here and had what had seemed like Asian music on headphones’ blasting so that I could hear it as he walk-marched by, and he’s likely to have been artificially-created off of that above-mentioned disgusting combo. It’s a little quieter now, maybe, as they’re doing some other act. I was hoping that all this circus was for the end of a month, like in Washington all those years. My point was that it looks like Fort Huachuca is a big part of the system’s “rearrangement” of its thinking when it learned there weren’t/aren’t monetary riches in space. They went into that “The Godfather” and similar violence films and this “Watergate/Bathgate” with this fraud-family that I’m in/was raised in and it looks like they decided to make the big “central intelligence” deal out of the old Tombstone-start area for themselves, and then perhaps off of that there they’d “thought up” to do this thing with the David Foster Wallace business. I’m of the mind now that that was like a “pen-name life” like the writing-group named Wu Ming had been under a normal-person’s name as a pen name before that. I’ll try to go look up that now. — Yeah, they were Luther Bissett, as though just one person doing those books. Then under the new group-label of Wu Ming they recently published that “Altai” novel that’s about the 1521-1579 historical character called Joseph Nasi, so is what I’m saying this “Armageddon-directorship” has come from, “a tall man with a bushy (or big, I forget which adjective,) black beard. And that brings up that this sculptor named Joseph Borofsky’s been making sculptures that look like that type, that’s then all over me, and I’d found a photo of Allen Ginsberg in that position as though maybe like a model for the sculpture or its inspiration.
from, In(diana) dot gov slash history etc., journal of Henry Hamilton, 1778-1779 so far:
Clark Recaptures Vincennes, February 22 to March 5, 1779
At 3 o’Clock p.m. Mr: François Maisonville returned from the pursuit of the deserters, but could not overtake them or discover what route they had taken–
He reported that of 4 Virginians who were going down the Ohio, two had escaped, the other two he had brought with their papers, which not containing any thing essential were returned with some paper money The Names of these two persons were Lapsley and Shannon, the latter a provincial Captain– Mr: Maisonville then took me aside and told me he had on his return discoverd 14 fires on the East side of the Ouabache, about four leagues below the fort, that he concluded they must be Virginians, but durst not expose himself to being taken by going near enough to count them–
I immediately orderd out Captain La Mothe (Guillame, 1744-99, Detroit fur trader) with his Lieutt. Schiefflin Serjeant Baron with 14 Men of the Volunteers and six men of the King’s Regiment who turnd out volunteers to go and reconnoitre where and who these people might be–Mr. Maisonville offered himself as a guide. [This last sentence is in the margin.]
— This guy Hamilton was nicknamed “the Hairbuyer” for buying scalps and it seems mainly or all from the colonists. Then he’s buried at a church in Harlem, Manhattan. — They made the church. — The computer shut off by itself again, 2:53pm.
1832 Maximilian of Wied was in N. America
this is from familytreedna, me trying to edit the extra words out: The Schieffelin family has been traced back to the thirteenth century. landowners in Nordlingen in Suabia. In 1476 Conrad Schieffelin, son of Franz, moved to Geneva, Switzerland and was admitted to citizenship on February, 1518.
Hans Leonhard Schäufelein (1480–1540) was a German painter, designer, wood engraver, and pupil of Albrecht Durer.
Jacob Schieffelin (1757-1835) was born in Philadelphia, the son of Jacob Schieffelin, Sr., who had immigrated from Germany in 1745. In 1780 he married Hannah Lawrence and he lived there until 1783, when he moved to Montreal. He returned to New York in 1794 and took an interest in a wholesale drug firm called Lawrence and Schieffelin until 1799; he was the sole proprietor until 1805; from that year until his retirement in 1814 it was known as Jacob Schieffelin and Son.
Maj. William Henry Schieffelin (1836-1895) entered the Union Army in 1862, was Major of the First New York Mounted Rifles, and saw active service in Virginia. He married Mary Jay, descendant of Chief Justice John Jay. He held positions of trust, and was identified with many scientific and philanthropic organizations.
Edward Lawrence Schieffelin (1847–1897) American Indian scout and prospector who discovered silver in the Arizona Territory, which led to the founding of Tombstone, Arizona.
William Jay Schieffelin (1855–1955) prominent figure in NY society, chairman board of trustees of Tuskegee University. Schieffelin & Co., was one of the oldest in NYC. wife = granddaughter railroad tycoon William H. Vanderbilt.
— Corbin House Hardware Company, New Britain, CT, elbert and philip — Portrait of a Prospector, by edward schieffelin
now here’s some whole different list from what i’d found yesterday, nothing about simmons or squires:
march 2, 1880, hamilton disston, john l. hill, wh wright, we littleton, rc tettermany and hg huey, accompanied by wa williams and frank x. cicott (the coiner of the mint in sf) paid 600,000 and merged the purchases into the tombstone mill and mining company
they said this is free to arizona citizens and i guess the pdf is okay here, pp 56, newspaper diagram of the mines and mention of alfred nobel’s agents, and 77 a diagram of the mines, then another one about manganese: docs dot azgs dot az dot gov slash SpecColl/2006-01/2006-01-0001-1 dot pdf
2 Aug — I just sent this to the library on post, the CW2 Christopher Nason: 2 Aug. 2019; Dear MI library, I guess I neglected to jot down your regular email address, and can’t look it up right now, but always have to be trying to reach any responsibly-behaving adult, trying to get this off before the weekend. I’ve been trying to reach the lady at MIPB because assistance would require alot of blog-reading, so here’s the address for that (I think, not too good with technology,) UniverseRescueKathyFoshayWordPressCom.WordPress.com/pages/contact/about/contact/Ms-Remus/ and over this weekend I’ll try to start one to your library, putting a link at the end of that one, which link is at the end of that “Infinite Jest” post and on the navigation bar. Nobody has ever told me what they actually see when/if they call up this blog, which I’d appreciate assistance with. Sincerely, K.Foshay
Earlier I bought a self-forbidden till now food and then lost the five dollars change, really upsetting for me. The food is any lime flavor, I haven’t been able to eat anything with lime in it since I discovered that the system has these weird beliefs that it goes by, language and lingo beliefs, that lime means to them that either they’ve lied or they’re going to lie and that whoever’s eating it has either lied or wants to or to be lied to, I don’t ever be able to guess but they have some new flavor of ice cream and either somewhere on this blog or on a paper note I’d already said I’d be buying it if I ever see it again, key lime and mango tart ice cream, so I bought that but lost the change. Then I typed out that above while I waited for the library to open for the fewer hours on Friday, lot to do today.