This is not a manifesto. It is a written plea for help.
"When you show up in court all crippled in a wheelchair who's going to believe that you lived through the gym"? - A bragging Child-Molester speaking about my eventual demise at the hands of the Child-Molesters, a Saginaw Gang in court only a few years prior to the writing of this website
"All we have to do is haul you into court in Bay City & call your plea for help a manifesto & no one will read it".
This is not a manifesto. It is a written plea for help.
RAPED and STALKED Pray for me. Please?
There's a reason this s the 1st part of my message. The gang brag my dirty cop destroyer WILL begin their letter/report declaring my site is NOT a plea for help but a madman's manifesto everyone can ignore. https://sjolnr.wixsite.com/rapedandstalked
KEEP TRYING!
My website is under constant attack & editing by the gang & rarely works on the first few tries. Don't give up & keep trying to make it work! Please?
Copy my website, share it with your local Police, call a Police Officer or 2, who knows? Maybe one of the wonded, dead or dying was someone in YOUR area? Tell a Federal Agent about my site, tell your family, tell your friends, tell everyone. Please? It's not for me, it's for the children the gang victimized, it's for the children the gang brag they are victimizing now, and it's for the children the gang brag my story will enable them to victimize in the future. It's all about business.
My website is all about opposing their business, their child-molesting & rape business for revenge, blackmail, self-gratification, & profit.
"I'd rather be last with God than 1st with the devil". - David A. George while praying to God.
CONTENT
“The truth, to the best of my ability.”
QUOTES:
​
"THE GYM"...
Speaking of the betting allegedly going on elsewhere watching via closed circuit television. "Today the Bosses are not betting on if you die or not but how many people it takes to kill you".
​
"All 60+ of them chanted in Unison over & over for the entire hour. "KILL DAVID GEORGE! KILL DAVID GEORGE! KILL DAVID GEORGE!"
​
They were all chanting in unison. "KILL DAVID GEORGE! KILL DAVID GEORGE! KILL DAVID GEORGE"! When the Uniformed on duty Bay City Police Officer entered (on numerous occasions). When I pointed out they were trying to kill me with weapons when the officers walked in they said. "That doesn't prove a thing".
​
I went to every single teacher 1 at a time in the 6th & 8th Grade wings of the school & asked them if they knew about my ongoing attempted murder in "The Gym". They all admitted they knew. Answers as to why they wouldn't help me ranged from. "I don't want to get involved". To. "I hear you're a scumbag & you're getting what's coming to you". & the ever popular. "I'm one of them". One even said he was going to attack me seeing as we were alone & he knew the gang would reward him. I bluffed him & he backed down. Go figure huh?
I decided when I first tried reaching out to law-enforcement with my story that the best way that I could tell it & still Honor My Parents was to tell not only my story, but to tell their story as truthfully as possible & without exaggerations.
I also realized that if I lied or exaggerated I'd go down in flames so I decided to tell my story as truthfully as I could to the best of my ability.
David A. George
Hope:
Dear Jesus, please save me?
CIVILLIAN RULE #1
Publish my story & share it with as amny people as you possibly can as soon as possible! Why?
BECAUSE YOU ARE IN DANGER!
As long as only a few people know about me & my story the gang think of it as good business to just pick off & recruit a few people at a time. By a few people I mean YOU Reader! They run a blackmail/extortion gang & you'll find yourself "on their list".
PROTET YOURSELF AT ONCE!
Get my message to as many people as you can so taking you & a few of your friends down wont leave the gang tempted to just recruit YOU next & keep the scam going. Once they put YOPU on the list you're on it & they love the idea of recruiting YOU & making YOU help them take your friends & family down.
I warned you!
Rude...
"It is impossible for a pretty female cop to be corrupt". - Actual child-molester bragging about my eventual legal demise against a pair of pretty female minority cop/prosecutor team.
​
​
"Anything you say about them will be automatically racist".
​
​
"We do this all the time and it works".
I accuse no one of conventional Police Brutality by these pictures.
<<<------------------------------------------
​
But I do feel brutalized by the Annapolis Police. I feel wounded. I feel attacked. I feel like they... they know what I mean.
ACTUAL DOITY... COP LETTER:
Mr. George
My name is Cpl Hernandez-Walter and have received your information as well as your manifesto. Is it possible to set up a meeting with you to see what it is the police department can do for you. You can either come to the police department and ask for me or you can let me know of a time and place to meet and we can go from there.
Let me know and I would be glad to assist you in any way I can
--
Cpl. T.Hernandez-Walter #3648
Intelligence Unit
Annapolis Police Department
199 Taylor Ave
Annapolis, MD 21401
PH- (410) 268-9000 Ext 7370
Cell-(443)949-2875
​
- In overall writing talent I give Doity... cOP a D- grade. Poorly written in my humble opinion.
1st thing she brings up is the classic child-molester word "manifesto". Just like the good child-molesters said their dirty... cop would.
As IF she was going to help me (molester Plan A: Act like the victims friend/savior to lull them into a false sense of security
Here I shall prove my point to good Police and the wise will agree: Sirs. having read my story, would any honest officer write "this" letter to me if they had any intention of being on my side or believing even 1% of what I had to say was true?
"tHeRe Is NoThInG a ViCtIm CaN sAy Or Do To ExTrIcAtE tHeMsElVeS fRoM ThE gAnG iN tHe FaCe Of ThEir PeTs ThE BaY CiTy PoLiCe.
NoThINg...
DaViD a GeOrGe 8-12-22
cHiLd-MoLeStOrS
The Last Snitch was very graphic about the benefits race, sex, & size difference would bring my coming minority female... cop against me.
He said that my every accusation could be easily deflected as racism. Especially with all the Klan meetings they'd filmed me at over the years.
Any accusation I made could be dismissed as sexist. As surely the only reason I would accuse her would be because she was a woman. The films would be particularly useful here.
He bragged she could cuff me or just beat me up uncuffed with impunity. Being she would be smaller than me if I just let her wupp me then "The Gym" could never have happened because if I was "that tough" surely I would have resisted her (I see the logic as flawed but who am I to disagree with them?) & if I defend myself it would justify an extreme police reaction by gangs of male vigilante... cops who would be shown a film or 2 to "get them in the mood". And he bragged the gang has gotten... cops to kill their victims for less.
As a woman who was pretty should could make all the mistakes she cared to in her police reports & writings. Presumably because she'd normally be such an efficient officer her fellow... cops & any good prosecutor would never check it or be too engaged in a trial later if they ever found out. This would allow them to add & subtract anything whatsoever & leave them with leverage to influence any prosecutor they don't own just in case.
Being either beautiful or just not ugly her acting classes & well-rehearsed words would flow out of their frame job textbook fashion. Backed up by film or films & as much witness testimony they feel they need to get an initial conviction.
"All that matters is that you're wearing orange during your trial. Who do you think a jury will believe? You after what we do to your hair? Or a pretty cop"?
"Actually he went on & on about the coming Dirty... cOP who would use the word manifesto in her 1st sentence proving him right".
"We do this all the time & it works".
Serial-Killing 101:...
During the beginning of The Gym Duh Jerk never seemed to give up hope I'd join the gang & become one of them. "From time to time some children are reluctant to join us at 1st". He told the gang members of The Gym (ie: 100% of them in attendance).
During this time he took me to the side in his office, I refused to attend at 1st but My Mother & The Bay City & Michigan State Police all threatened me with violence if I didn't attend. So I did.
One day the subject of recruiting came up. Of course it did. The gang had bragged for years that my classroom was primarily recruiters for the gang using a combination of statutory rape blackmail & child-porn & stock trading fraud. At one point Duh Jerk talked about how he recruited police. Saying male policemen were difficult at best to recruit & required much finesse. He preferred to trip them up in small ways 1st, then progressively compromising them until they were doing deeds every bit his equal regularly.
With female police officers he had a different technique. The gang researched the... cop in question & arranged a meeting. Usually in a member's home who had the same hobbies as that female... cop.
Then the.. cop was invited to the Molestor's family home. Friends would be there & their children would be on their best behavior & in their Sunday best. The... cop would be plied with conversation. "See? We're alike". A bowler would be shown bowling trophy's, a fisher might arrive to see fishing trophy's & so on.. Then they'd sit down for a reasonable conversation among like-minded individuals. The children were coached. "Please don't tear up our family". The parents might beg in the case of someone like me, the author of this website. "Please don't tear apart our family over a scumbag like him Officer". They'd review the films, there'd be bruised people there with actual wounds admittedly caused by the victim (likely in self-defense but hey, the gang provoke endlessly so that many seem to be wounded in filmed unprovoked attacks)..
Duh Jerk smiled & bragged while sitting in his tax-funded office during normal business hours. "I've never seen it fail on a female cop". He went on to claim 100% success rate recruiting female police this way. When I asked how effective it was against men he declined to give an answer. Only saying it sometimes worked.
It was only after "That 1st week" as I called it. When the gang simply went to my house & asked My Mother if they could have me. Like everyone who told me they'd torture me (many openly) she gave them her blessing & even consented to a 2nd week after the 1st expired.
"But Mom they're torturing me"!
"Then you help them torture you". My Mother said. (Honor Honor Honor).
No matter how much I begged she would not rescind nor alter her statement or amend the order repeated it as well..
The Last Snitch was telling me why he hated me so much. "You have no idea how many child-molesters you've hurt or killed".
His main complaint was not only those slain by mission of action, deliberately, or in a drug-induced state but the gang's loyal members who were tasked with keeping me from escaping. Holding me, spying on me, framing me. Those that failed often had horrific punishments & many were killed. Many more were killed when it was found they talked too much, and some even planned my demise & WERE ELIMINATED because it represented an unauthorized amateurish event at best. "If we wanted you dead you'd be dead".
There was a total & the number was insanely high. He told me he thought he was better than Duh Jerk or I. "I don't kill casually like you or Jerk". He was better than us because when he killed it was sparingly & "just business".
"You are a blight on the child-molester community". He promised me death when Duh Jerk died or retired & all that he had fell to him.
"Torturing you is scary. You never know when you're going to go off".
Believe in the afterlife? Most people do. I wonder whatever became of the souls of them who died?
What will I say to them in the afterlife?
If you're reading this I pose this question. What will you say to them in the afterlife?
Looking down the barrel of a loaded gun isn't the best of ideas on a good day in my humble opinion.
Disclaimer: I mean no insult against the people pictured on my website nor mean to imply anything about them. I'm sure they're good people & if they're worried I'd like to ask them to realize that a great evil may be wiped off the face of the earth thanks to their pictures & they may save the lives of countless innocents.
LOOKING DOWN THE BARREL OF A LOADED GUN... Yeah, they would...
Sooooooo... in my 1,100+ page letter to the F.B.I. where someone dies every few pages I wrote about one of the ways the gang brag they spy on me. From Bosses during drunk & high rants during a gang-rape, Duh Jerk, The 4 Stars (Just Desserts was one tight-lipped guy, otherwise I'd have said "The Munger Boy 5") to member/victims & even victim/members., they all had something to say. "Snitches" over the years, Children of the Gym, & even random gang-bangers who claimed to have just bumped into me in public & wanted to chat for reasons ranging from absolution to bragging. They said that I was, have been, & always will be their "Recruiter". A focus of their evil. A scapegoat for if things go bad. Far from unique I am one of many with the title. Raised from birth the gang commit horrific acts of violence & torture upon us & follow us for life. Film it. Then use the films to justify would-be vigilantes to commit crimes against... us. Strangely enough I met a whole bunch of... cops, mostly in The Child-Molestor Triangle (draw an imaginary line from Flint to Bay City to Detroit, a city with the world's most famous child-molester statue & where up to 25% of all buildings are empty, a molesting paradise to be sure) who told me in confidence they absolutely positively knew who & what I was & told me they believed me. Each had his own reasons for not helping me. Chief reasons being cowardice & having seen "the films". Keeping up? Good.
As an Annapolis MD or Bay City... cop you might need to take a break here to avoid passing out at your post. I recommend laying down & elevating your feet (consult your Dr). I'll write some elevator music here so you can relax. Breath deep & hum to it. "Dumm dumm do wha? Dumm dumm is you. Dumm dumm say wha? Do wha"!
Alleged spying tactics range from hiring people near me., threatening friends & family, sending "primarily actors" who like similar hobbies to befriend or seduce me. They boast cameras are either often planted around me or as of the last 15 years the story is I'm watched full-time thusly. It gets weirder from there with claims ranging from bugs planted on my person, & even buried inside of me. The last claim I'd been "RIFF-Tagged". An illegal operation placing it behind my eye(s) & even wrapped around the optic nerve to insure my decline into blindness if it be removed, fail, or as time goes on it should settle in place & tear my delicate optic nerve.
I asked Duh Jerk, The 4 Stars, & even several Bosses & gang-bangers about it. Why? Why spy on less than nobody me? It makes no sense.
Au con·traire they said. "How much money would you spend to keep an eye on the guy who can finger you for a hundred attempted murders"? Apparently... a lot.
How or even IF they spy on me full or part-time is irrelevant. This is a story about 1 alleged "friend insert". A "primarily actor card-carrying gang-banger tasked with joining an R.P.G. I was in charge of (by far their most popular reported means of inserting themselves into my life).
​
Role-Playing Game role-play·ing game noun
-
a game in which players take on the roles of imaginary characters who engage in adventures, typically in a particular computerized fantasy setting overseen by a referee.
He seemed like an okay guy. Short, most of'em are (they brag it makes the... cops laugh & I endorse it, IT WORKS!) about the same age as me 27-29ish, light brown hair. Duh Jerk's "type" (Author note: EWWW!!!) He wanted to play one of my RPGs. I've ran several. An obscure game called Twilight 2000 (not a vampire game, mercenaries tasked with taking over the galaxy), Dungeons & Dragons, GDW's Traveler, & even Villains & Vigilantes (a super-hero game) in almost all of which my job was to play "the bad guys" (I hear the films & edited bits of conversation placed out of context in other films & recordings are enough to condemn any 100 good men, let alone less than nobody me).
One day... soon after meeting him (I forget his & almost all of their "names"). I suggested the group of players go out & shoot some guns in the woods. So we drove out there. Only a few of the new guys accepted & we started target shooting as soon as we arrived. Him last.
His gun, a rifle, misfired. It wouldn't shoot. So I suggested that he check the safety to see if it was on. He did, flipping the saftey between both positions several times just to be sure.
He seemed to grow increasingly irritated with his rifle the more he fiddled with it & then he shook the gun a few times, jiggled the trigger, pointed the rifle at me, & asked me why I thought it didn't shoot? Then he looked down the barrel & started jiggling the trigger & the bolt while looking down the barrel!
I was in shock! I was also at a complete loss for words. All I could think was I've either got to say something or stop this guy before he kills himself. He kept jiggling the gun's parts so being that I was 2 steps away from him I quickly stepped up to him & slapped his gun away from his face very hard!
WOW! Was he mad. All but violently he demanded to know why I'd hit him? He threatened to beat me up for hitting him.
I asked him what he was trying to accomplish by looking down the barrel & jiggling the trigger? If the gun had gone off he could be injured or killed! The way I saw it was I was saving his life.
He still wanted to fight me & said as much.
It was the other newbie to the game who explained to him that he might not want to fight me because in his opinion I might have just saved his life.
The man backed off. But he was still furious with me. It ruined the mood. He started fiddling with the rifle again to get it to fire & with just another 1 or 2 seconds of work he got it to fire. BANG!
He was still furious with me because in his opinion I should've verbally warned him & not smacked his rifle away from his face as hard as I had (Note: I'd hit his rifle, not him). I told him if I'd hesitated & tried to reason with him instead of slapping his weapon down... he'd be dead now.
He angrily thanked me, eventually after much discussion on the subject of him inflicting great violence upon me as revenge for what I'd done to him. It seemed like he squared off for a time with me over the whole incident. Ready to fight.
Duh Jerk himself brought him up. He said he'd been a paid spy by him. He decided that since I'd saved his man's life & he started talking well of me it was just too dangerous to leave him in my life. Lest he feel indebted to me & spill his guts. So I wouldn't be seeing any of them new players.
I really should've written a Weirdism Page & put this on it as it is a weirdism if there ever was one.
Yeah, I saved his life. They're so ungrateful as a rule.
Whatever...
Weirdism:
A true story that when told does not further the author's story nor does it come to any meaningful moral nor conclusion.
Stay weird. A lifestyle choice sure to defeat any Mid-Michigan Law Enforcement & even Annapolis MD... cOPS. My name is David A. George & I endorse this. IT WORKS!
INSURING MY DESTRUCTION... Yeah... I would...
This will be short & to the point. One of the weirder ways to get an "insert" is fairly straightforward. The gang brag that to even repeat some of the things they've inflicted upon me is to hand victory to my coming destruction via dirty prosecutor. I believe them. During a drugged interrogation Duh Jerk or the 4 Stars demanded to know who were my friends? "Who do you love"? Who are you attracted to? Have I made any new friends? Have I been to the police lately? What cop did I talk to? What did they say? A standard debriefing.
Today... about 20 or so years ago, more or less (as of 6-27-2018) Martin "Duh Jerk" demanded to know, over & over, who I loved?
My answer shocked both him & me. Through the drug-haze & sleep deprivation I answered the name of an obscure model I'd recently seen online. She was a very beautiful Czechoslovakian woman I'd found online as of late. I was impressed with her looks & even tried my best to research her. Which primarily consisted of simply typing her name into a web search & see what that yielded. To the best of my ability to research she was a simple woman, recently freed recently from the tyranny of Czechoslovakia by the fall of the Iron Curtain. She was a good girl, never posed nude, she was a film buff & got into modeling only after her camera equipment was stolen. She was hot.
The level of my attraction? I thought she was good-looking. I never tried to contact her, not once. Ever. Never. No reason. She was just one of many beautiful models I liked to look at on occasion. Nothing more. I did similar searches on a lot of models. I'm guessing a lot of guys do?
Over the years I followed her career some. Every few years I typed in her easy to remember name & read as much as was available about her. No reading lasted more than 5 minutes as information about her really never changed much over the years.
Martin "Duh Jerk" demanded. "Who do you love"?
"Nobody". Picture me standing wet in a puddle next to a half-full bucket of water.
"Who do you love"?
"Nobody".
"Who do you love"?
"Nobody".
"Who do you love"?
"Nobody".
"Who do you love"?
"Nobody".
"Who do you love"?
"Nobody"!
"Who do you love"?
My answer shocked me. Still does. "Veronika Zemanova".
The questioning stopped right there. Duh Jerk told me he figured since the drugs were wearing off I was lying. "That doesn't even sound like a real name".
Me? I felt bad for mentioning the name of the innocent girl. My heart sank at the possibility of what a single finger point by myself could bring the good girl from afar. When he asked the Jocks & the 4 Stars if they knew of her they all answered no. Then he threatened me with an epic torture for lying.
I told him I figured her name was indeed a fake stage name she used. Then I pointed out (yeah, I'm stupid like that) that in a way it was a lie as I did not love her & had no idea why I'd dropped her name. None at all. I got a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. Not for myself, but for her. Some girl in a foreign land I knew only from a single well-circulated poster picture back then.
Over the years I lightly followed her career & was disappointed to see she 1st got into nude modeling & then porn. Not just normal porn either... one of her films or series of films (I never saw them so I don't know) was called "Action Girls". If I hadn't played tons of the RPG called Twilight 2000 I would never bring up the gun-filled action porn I never saw.
I make no accusations & I mean to imply nothing about the still beautiful woman.
Sometimes... I wonder about the former good girl from afar. In a way I only metaphorically pointed at her a single time probably with an entire ocean between. Sometimes I wonder...
The horror... the horror...
​
This tale is incomplete & I have no intention of finishing it... ever. As of 6-28-2018
No picture... no snappy saying... I'm implying nothing & wholly regret repeating this story & apologize for writing each & every word of it.
"Because no one would act like that".
"Why not? Are you saying a weird pervert would never act weird or perversely"?
"No.".
"So how would a weird pervert act when doing weird & perverse crime"?
"I'm not sure. But not like that".
"But you're the experts. Whatdaya mean you don't know"?
​
Possible title of the above paragraph:
How to shut up a Mid-Michigan... cOP.
"So are you saying weird & perverse people wouldn't act like that"?
"Yeah".
"Then how would they act"?
"I don't know but I know they wouldn't act like that".
"Whatdaya mean you don't know? You're supposed to be the experts"!
For the record: I was always bad at remembering names. Ow...
My Mother always smiled broadly during my gauntlets when she stood there officiating over them. Every... single... one... of... them...
All all [ôl] predeterminer
-
used to refer to the whole quantity or extent of a particular group or thing:
"all the people I met" · "she left all her money to him" · "10 per cent of all cars sold" · "he slept all day" · "carry all of the blame" · "four bedrooms, all with balconies" · "the men are all bearded" "all of the gauntlets she officiated"
------------->>>
I wonder if mid-Michigan... cops, trOOpers, & aGENTs practice their bland looks in a mirror or does it come naturally when a child complains about their molesters that they absolutely positively know are professional child-molesters?
THAT 1ST SUMMER... Woe was me... Woe was me... ow...
I was just reliving the summer of 65 this afternoon on 8-24-18 so I thought I'd share it with my readers. As if anything I could type at this point could save me. It's just something to do tonight. Sharing the misery I'd suppose. A little background. What made me, who are the people who chose to surround me.
What kind of people? Horrible... horrible evil people who lived 100% for the glory that is inflicting pain on a baby. I'd suppose you'd figure exaggeration here & the film evidence will surely prove me wrong but it's true. Evil personified. Evil all day, evil all night.
I was locked in my room & given a life sentence to a cell. Oh, they had a nice name for it "the crib". It was a place of horror & deprivation relieved only by moments of stark-raving madness & terror. Ah... childhood memories... we all have'em. Right?
I kinda sorta got used to my exile from humanity. Kinda... sorta. We'll start with their PRACTICAL joke I'll call "Knock Knock!... Who is it? Pain...
​
KNOCK! KNOCK!!! Who is it? Pain...
My Mother & Father... I'll do a lot of honoring here. HONOR HONOR HONOR HONOR HONOR HONOR! Gave me a single rule. I was not to leave my crib for any reason period! No exceptions! Under threat of great pain! They gave me a 2nd rule as well. Any & all noises made by me were punishable by swift violence. Often lengthy & usually cruelly applied. No exceptions. None! Zip! Zilch! I will honor them by being 100% honest here. I hope my family will show me the same honor & respect I show them here. If they wat to complain about me, fine, I wasn't perfect. but I'm not afraid to discuss what I did to them truthfully & publicly, so they should return the favor?
It was a lonely time... just sitting there... nothing to do... not even a tormentor for company. I owned a small toy fire truck, a baby bottle, & sat on a plastic bare baby mattress in a barred crib with a window above me that I could not see out of except to see the never changing sky.
People knocked at the front door often. I heard the louder knockers. Sometimes they came in & I heard voices, muffled conversation I could never make out through my shut door on the opposite side of my room. Then, after a time, they left.
Usually my door burst would burst open without warning & men & women, children & animals came in & pain was always on the menu. Always. Every single time. A quantity of 100%. There were no exceptions. Some identified themselves as the friends of my parents. They were cruel. If they had animals I fought them all off.
The 1st rule wasn't fun. No leaving the crib no matter what. This meant climbing the headboard to look out the window & it was sadistically enforced & everyone around me knew it. Part of the many many sadistic games EVERYONE (a quantity of 100%) took sadistic delight in tricking me into breaking.
People identified themselves as my Dad's family. The Georges. They were cruel without fail. Beating on me in lengthy never-ending games that always ended in a gauntlet on my person as their reward. The Georges were unfailingly cruel & the moment one of them identified themselves I knew pain was coming & they never tired of pain on a baby one bit. But I'll admit when I managed to live to age 1 or so they backed off. Turning from sadistic ever-violent visitors to never-caring people who had nothing to do with me. I guess they only liked tormenting babies? Whatever their motivation was it'd been horrible. Back then my Mother might burst into my room & introduce each & every visitor. In months if I forgot their names I was punished for lying. "Genius's never forget". She'd say. For the record: I was always bad at remembering names. Ow...
The worst of the worst were the ones who identified themselves as my mother's family. The Tanners. They never tired of evil no matter what age I was & gleefully & sadistically applied pain at every opportunity. Sick head games & just outright pain. They sometimes brought in pets & I was lucky to fight them off at all. It was a horrible time & any pain or injury I inflicted on an animal was sure to bring immediate reprisal. I came to realize I rated in the social order below any vising family pet. Again... not an exaggeration.
Sometimes people knocked long long times on our front door. In the beginning I went & awoke my parents, just a few times. They pounded on me relentlessly for every incident.
I told my Mother one day I thought she was leaving me alone.
She called me a liar & threatened me. I recall being surprised I was unpunished.
It was about this time My Mother gave me an order that I should obey all adults no matter who they were nor what they wanted. No exceptions. It was a rule she changed every few weeks or months our entire time together & she pounded on me savagely at every unannounced rule change.
Knock! Knock! Someone knocked on our front door for a long long time. Then they came & knocked on my window for a long long time. Who it was, I couldn't say & to answer verbally or try to lift myself up to look out the window was an extremely serious punishment. But they kept knocking. So I climbed my headboard & looked out. Some family member told me to let them in. So I did & they said I could stay out of my crib & even watch tv. It was a great adventure.
And then my parents came home. My Mother was furious I'd let my dad's siblings in & pounded on me long & hard.
Me? During the quiet parts of the ongoing painfest I asked her why she left me alone? She said she never did.
My Mother was always furious to have her lies pointed out & if she was mad before... wow!
My Parents gave me a new rule. I was to listen to no one but them. No exceptions no matter what. Period!
Knock! Knock! Someone eventually came and knocked a long, long, long time. Eventually they gave up & knocked on my window for a long long long time. I never budged.
My door burst open & My Mother was furious! Her friend needed in so she'd told them to knock & I'd let them in.
I told her my orders were to obey no one & not leave my crib for no reason. No exceptions!
She told me I should have figured it out. I was a genius after all. She pounded on me a long, long, long time.
My parents changed my rules. Obey everyone else no matter who no matter what they wanted. Friends (their friends, not mine), family, & even visitors I'd never met before. Wow! Was my Mother mad when I pointed out she told me she wouldn't leave me alone at home anymore.
Knock! Knock! 2 teenagers I'd never seen before knocked & ordered me to open the door. So I did & they forced their way past me & decided to have a party once they knew the house was empty except for a baby.
Me? I watched a lil tv. They wanted nothing to do with me but overall weren't entirely cruel. At one point while the teens were ignoring me & the party was jumping I asked them if I could have some of the pizza they'd seemed to have lost interest in. They said okay.
I was quite nervous at this point. Excited? You see the prospect of real solid food very much appealed to me. My extended family & their friends had been feeding me solid food a while by now. Theoretically. As anyone around me gave me food I might get 1 or 2 bites, they'd overpower me & take the food. Even pouring the hate on me based on any protests I made. "Well such & such gave you awesome food (they might say the particular food).
I'd point out they took it away after a bite or 2 & maybe even pointed out they were eating it as we spoke. This only merited more threats, & more pain based on how badly the accused felt slandered, the mood of gleeful gauntlet participants, & the whims of my parents.
I'd come up with a plan to secure solid food for myself. I'd quickly take little bites all over my food, make it disgusting as soon as possible so I might keep it. It worked a few times but it merited pain in my parents saw the food so disfigured. Plus I would be punished for my greed. I had to share, I was a Christian. No one else had to share with me, just me & all I possessed was fair game for everyone around me. I rated lower than visiting family pets in my opinion. They didn't have to share.
I very quickly ate 3 bites out of the pizza slice, one on each side & the top. Then I planned to eat more.
In seconds My Mother came barging into our home. SLAM! WOW! Was she mad! She blamed me.
I told her she ordered me to obey everyone else. No exceptions. The teen boys had forced their way in when I opened the door & just ignored me once they knew I was alone. Besides I pointed out... again. She said she wasn't going to leave me home alone again. WOW! Did she hate it when i pointed out her lies & said she just stepped out for a few minutes across the street.
My Mother's interrogation style gifted me with the powers of deduction early as a child, at times. I pointed out the teens had the time to use the phone & assemble a party, guests came from afar, & they ordered a pizza & it was now cold. I couldn't count but was sure it was more than a few minutes I'd been left alone.
She pounded on me long and hard as she sent the partying teens packing. She seemed the most furious about me having eaten some of the teen's pizza (I'd had very little) so she ordered me to bed with no food. The only time she ever did that to me actually in our entire time together.
I recall sitting there quietly after the pain. My Mother or whoever might say "You think that hurt? Quit crying or I'll give you something to really cry about". So the silent tears flowed... I was just hungry... I obeyed to the best of my ability... I just wanted to eat... In about an hour the door burst open & my Mother yelled at me. "I just wanted you to know I ate the pizza & it was good & I threw out the slice you ate"!
I pointed out it was cruel of her to mock me thusly...
She never did like a metaphorical mirror held to her face... never did...
I pointed out that I knew the garbage bag was new & I knew there was no trash in it, so the pizza slice was still clean & asked if I could eat it.? I was hungry.
She refused.
Now she changed my orders. I should obey no one no matter who it was & never leave the crib. No exceptions. Not even to obey her or anyone else. If she wanted me out of my prison she'd fetch me. End of discussion! SLAM! It's only trivia to add that days later I was in a position to look into the trashcan in the kitchen & all the trashcan contained was a pizza box & that lone slice of pizza with 3 little bites taken out of it.
I'll always remember climbing up the headboard & looking at the never-changing scenery for something to do. I only did it a few times. This time it was different. The trees had changed to beautiful reds & oranges & outside was a festive of visual excitement. I was in awe at nature & the scene energized me, probably saving my sanity. I know the reader assumes exaggeration here... they always do. But it saved my soul & energized me. Every once in a while, willful brat that I was, I climbed up & was disappointed to see the leaves all gone & soon replaced with never-changing snow. In the past if I stared out my window a long time children might pass by in my back yard. The sighting of a fellow human being might energize me for weeks, but If they saw me they almost always snitched me out & often gleefully joined in the family fun-time that was my just punishment. Slap fests galore! And an extended family with rosy red palms.
Knock! Knock! Someone knocked a long time & pounded a long long time.
Then they pounded on my window a long long long time. After a long long time My Mother identified herself. Her story was always the same. She'd just stepped out to go shopping or visit a nearby friend & got locked out.
Me? I wasn't falling for her trick & I wouldn't budge. She screamed threats at me a long long time & promised me epic levels of pain if I wouldn't let her in.
After a long time I climbed out of the crib & let her in only to be greeted by tremendous pain.
Yeah... they... they being My Mother's friends & family mostly but My Dad's siblings loved joining in did many variation of the above & they all ended in my being dealt pain for a long, long time.
My Cousin asked me how I liked it one day?
I told him I didn't like it one bit.
He told me he was responsible. Each member of my family & their friends were plied by him. Sometimes with cash, usually drugs. "I'm only doing it to him this once to teach him a lesson". He said one day they'd each be offended at my accusations. He'd either drugged them afterwards & they remembered nothing or they only did it the one time. He said he gave My parents orders & kept changing them to facilitate his next cruelty.
My Cousin told me he & my family were watching the party from hiding & the entire thing was a set-up to pounce on me after I'd eaten a single bite of food. When I told him I didn't buy it he pointed out the party had gone on for hours, & within seconds of my getting a morsel My Mother was on me. He said he was really really mad when he found out I'd managed 3 quick bites, describing them to me when I doubted he was there. He was behind my food ban. Visiting family friends were offered a bounty to take my food that none of them could resist (he claimed he could afford it) & others we plied with rewards such as cash booze or drugs. When I told him I didn't buy it he pointed out they all did it at least once & many of the males did it a bunch of times. He later made it an extreme punishment for me to disfigure my food when I started doing it in an attempt to keep solid food. "I want you to be weak in comparison to other kids your age". Was among his threats, promises, & just plain cruelty. My family seemed to obey his every word, not adored, just obeys his every word.
Talk to any Mid-Michigan Law-Enforcement Officer & ask them about child-molesters. They'll all tell you the same answer. Child-molesters love children & would never hurt one. "You know how I know you're lying? You said a child-molester was cruel to a child & I know for a fact all child-molesters love children & would never hurt one or do anything cruel to a child". The Police rule is not subject to review & is infallible proof unto itself. Indeed, my life is a living testimony to this one paragraph & it's influence on law-enforcement as a whole. Literally.
My Cousin had a different theory about who he should be naughty to & who he should be nice to. "The more cruel we are to you is only proof to the cops that they should ignore you". He said it was how he treated all his "young victims" (yeah, he talked like that). It allowed the gang to tell... cops. "You can ignore their accusations about us. Ask them how cruel we are to them? Do you think we'd treat them like that unless they deserved it"? He claimed that the gang were all well-versed in the theory & it's practical application & never failed to accuse their targeted victims to authorities whenever an opportunity presented itself as a matter of business. He bragged I did not live the life of horror I found myself in alone. His other child victims, the "blackballed" children lived the same life of horror as did I.
​
YEAH, I NEARLY DIED... whatever...
I was in "The Crib" when the door burst open & My Mother said she had good news. She'd met some teenagers & they were there to play with me. About 6 of them, boys & girls came in with some mid-sized mutt.
It goes without saying they were cruel from the start. They said it was to desensitize my parents for what they planned to do to me. It was a lot of pain & my parents burst In & inflicted more pain on me because of it! After about 5 or 6 pain sessions, when my parents & the other gauntlet enthusiasts gave up on reacting to my cries of pain they went into mission mode.
Then... after a while... they put the mid-sized dog in the crib & they closed the door & put guards on both sides. The guards on the other side of the door made lots of noise. The 2 beautiful teen girls loudly played patty whack & nearly shouted a song standing in front of my door. Then the smiling teens goaded the dog into attacking me!
You know what? In my experience IF you tell most people how you fended off a dog attack they'll hate... hate you! So I'll only describe it as yeah, we fought. I won. When I hurt the dog the pair of teens tried to tend him. So I leaped out of my crib. Then I knew I could run up to a dresser by the door put one foot on it & grab the doorknob. The teens tried to drag me back in but I had 1 arm & a head trapped in the door & the more they pulled the more pain they inflicted... on me! Mostly because the girls on the other side of the door were trying to shut the door with my neck in it!
I was seriously punished both for all that & my obvious lies. The snickering teens left laughing at me the whole time. The "official" reasons for why I was being punished was lying about My Mother's new friends, hurting a poor defenseless animal, & for leaving my crib which in all probability saved me. Keeping up? Okay.
Another time...
So there I was in the crib... my orders were explicit & had no escape clause. I was to leave for no reason no matter what! Period! Under threat of great pain. Yeah, yeah, yeah, same old, same old.
So I was in The Crib. Diaper only & the lone firetruck they'd chosen to inflict on me. It started to get cold. So very cold... it was the winter of 65 by my estimation. And I was getting colder by the moment.
Eventually I figured the pain of crying out for heat would be worth the cold. No one came.
It got bitterly cold & I began shivering uncontrollably.
I wanted to leave, I really did. But I was "The Good Kid". The Good Kid obeys unquestioningly. The Good Kid is 100% ethical & always keeps it 100% ethical. My orders gave no way I could leave, even to save my own life.
...
So I huddled into a ball & prepared to die...
...
It was a sad time for me...
...
Shiver...
...
I was going to die alone...
...
I felt close to "the end" when my door burst open! It was My Mother. She said she'd only went across the street for a few minutes & the heat went out & she gave me a big blanket for an hour & took it & sentenced me to the crib. Alone...
At one point My Mother told me it was okay for me to leave the crib if it was to save my life.
I told her not so. She pounded on me long & hard for leaving the crib when that dog attacked me & that was to save my life.
My Cousin had his own theories on what had happened. He said the teens were a group of specialists who traveled the country with a trained dog getting it to attack children whom he'd hired. He claimed the dog was trained to rip away at children's faces, scarring them for life & marking his victims for life.
Then he claimed the people across the street lured My Mother away with free drugs & he sabotaged the furnace while she was gone. Their mission was to delay her as long as possible so I'd die. Then he said she'd of course go to prison for neglect, but not too long with his connections.
I asked him why he would do things like that to me?
"Because I hate you".
<<<---------
The gang has rather defensively defended themselves throughout my life regarding their rough treatment of baby me & I heard it a bunch of times.
"Usually we wait until a child is about 2 years old when they start talking before we start to pour out our pain on them. Because being mean to a baby doesn't matter because they won't remember any of it anyway. You learned to talk when you were a few weeks old, so we started being mean to you then".
A few of them, well, many of them told me they felt bad about pouring out their evil on a walking & talking baby. But orders were orders & it was fun. The rest? They told me with pure glee how much they loved inflicting agony on a baby & then proceeded to show me in great detail, sparing nothing.
Ow...
Gauntlet? My Parents, extended family, & the people I call gauntlet enthusiasts never used the word gauntlet to describe the long lines that often formed for the privilage of sllapping my face 20-30 times. If the individual gauntlet participants chose to go on slapping my face for hundreds of blows even over the most trivial reasons the subject was not even brought up.
There was one rule, for me. If I attempted to block for any reason, we'd begin again. "You blocked! Everyone line-up. We're all going to hit David again". It always was horrible to hear that for the 3rd time, especiually during long lines.
It was however acceptable for me to block punches & kicks & blows not specifically aimed at the face region. But it brought on a new level of difficulty when participants told me they intended to mix in punches & kicks into the slaps.
I personally on recall using the word gauntlet twice to describe how my family treated me to which My Mother set up a real gauntlet.
In the old days a person might be required to pass through a group of people they wronged, each was free to deliver any blows they wanted as punishment.
Me? She made me keep going through until the desired level of pain had been exacted both times.
Honor! Honor! Honor!
WHAT DO I WRITE? WHAT WORDS WILL CONVINCE POLICE TO HELP ME? IS THERE SOME PRAYER I NEED TO UTTER OTHER THAN THE MULTITUDE OF PRAYERS I'VE MADE? IS THERE SOMEONE, ANYONE WHO COULD OR WOULD PROTECT ME FROM THE GANG? IS THERE ANY ESCAPE? IS THERE ANY HOPE FOR REDEMPTION? IS ANYONE EVEN READING THIS? HELLO? IS ANYONE OUT THERE? ANYONE?
Sunglasses
sun·glass·es
/ˈsənˌɡlasəz/
noun
-
glasses tinted to protect the eyes from sunlight or glare.
"The cops will never believe you because you'll have to tell the truth & admit that we follow you wherever you go".
"But think about it. Do you know how many murders you're involved in? Do you think we'd just walk away from that? Do you know how many people were involved in attempted murders against you in The Gym? Lots of people were involved. People with families where the entire family was involved. Powerful people. People with lots to lose. So of course we follow you".
The Child, The... feel free to translate it into German if you actually like child-molesters... Alt Title: The Family Business, The...
Well... here I am... feeling the need to write about some of the children I've met in life. Like this one Circa Summer 1980.
Soooo I came too in broad daylight (I think it was cloudy?) the Parking lot of James Clement's Airport, kinda on the left between the buildings on a summer day. Dazed & seriously doped up at age 8 or 9 or so in the back seat of my Mother's Parent's car. My Mother's Father & his only son were there. So was the man I only knew as “My Cousin”. A cruel man who's name I didn't know & for which it was an extreme lengthy & painful punishment to admit not knowing the name of. My entire family apparently knew the man, so did several of my classmates who discussed my punishment situation in great detail when they all withheld his name from me.
There was a pair of Uniformed Bay City... cops & a marked car & an Ambulance with 2 uniformed crew & a teenaged boy. Probably about 15 or so by my present day estimation?
My Mother's Dad & her Bro, 2... cops, 2 ambulance workers, a teenage boy & myself. Got it? Allllllllll at the small airport.
We were parked outside & next to my Grandfather's Airplane (that's what he called it) which was pointed at the runway. My Grandfather ordered me out of the backseat of the car & walked off with his son to talk to My Cousin & the... cops & ambulance crew.
So I stood where ordered.
Just stood there....
They didn't call me The Good Kid for no reason... yup, I stood there...
& stood there...
There was an order from the teen boy. It's kinda fuzzy...
We argued... I don't take orders from him...
He produced a knife & threatened to kill me...
Me? The world was rippling. I figured I was dreaming...
I recall thinking. “He threatened to kill me. I kill people who threaten me when I'm dreaming”. Yeah... simple as that... Yup... Simple...
My Cousin saw, he ordered the teen to leave me alone...
The teen refused. He was confident he could handle me & I didn't scare him...
He lunged with the knife...
It was simple to take it from him...
I went straight for the kill with his knife as the men rushed at us...
I aimed for the jugular... never hit it once...
I aimed for the femoral artery (I'd had some success aiming there as of late)...
I stabbed him several times...
My Cousin made the Uniformed... cops put their pistols down & ordered me taken down in hand to hand...
At my Grandfather's command to hand over the knife I told him I would, but the teen said he was taking from me & killing me with it, I wasn't giving it up while he was near me...
Stab!
Stab!
Stab!
Swish the knife around at everyone near & give an ultimatum. I wont stop until the teen who's still chanting death threats while being stabbed is still attacking me...
He got sleepy..
They yanked the teen back...
I handed the knife over...
The Uniformed on duty Bay City Police... cops told me I was under arrest...
I protested... the teen had attacked me... & I was confident there were cameras there filming the entire thing (I'd toured the place several times before)...
Threats threats threats... Everyone threatened me...
The teen fell asleep... right there... next to the runway...
My Cousin said I was not under arrest...
The... cops obeyed him... and threatened me...
The ambulance workers tended to the child furiously... and threatened me...
Then My Cousin ordered everyone be given a drug to erase their memory...
They locked me in the back of the patrol car... laughed at me as I fought sleep...
The Ambulance workers said the boy had lost a lot of blood. He'd likely have brain damage if he lived. Then they repeatedly begged for permission to leave which My Cousin initially refused until he could get his story straight with the... cops who weren't given any drug(s?)...
Still later My Cousin asked me what I remembered about the situation. So I told him, leaving nothing out.,,
He said the teen had brain damage... Now he limped, was addled, & had nasty scars...
He'd also made a fatal mistake. He told his family exactly how he'd been injured when asked. Now lots of people knew...
My Cousin lamented where he felt he'd gone wrong...
He said he'd been having trouble controlling me as of late... I'd injured lots of people, many of them my fellow children... some very badly...
So he took the precaution of showing the teen films of me killing people... lots of people...
The kid was tough he said, hand chosen to handle me if I proved to be a problem... He figured he could handle me as he'd handled the rapes & kidnappings of hundreds of children & was a seasoned & well-trained expert...
Strange only in that My Cousin asked me what went wrong. He asked me to critique the situation...
My Family rules were clear. Answer his every question no matter what. So I did...
I said his mistake was he pulled out the knife & threatened me...
A child... the life of a child... for the ever-laughing mid-Michigan... cops... Behold your handiwork...
Sigh...
​
I CAN PROVE MR. GEORGE IS LYING... and they meant it!!!
Sooooo... there I was. In the Bay City witless school, Macgregor, the building Duh Jerk claimed the gang shaped like an "E" for evil to commit their dirty deeds inside of... at taxpayer expense. I'd just been attacked by yet another child from some other area & I had to beat them down to protect mys;elf.
Duh Jerk was complaining on behalf of the injured child saying I earned an arrest for attacking the child (not true) & injuring him. A clear pattern he wanted ended... for the children.
Me? I protested innocence & suggested I had a pool of nearly 1,000 witnesses handy to Duh Jerk's evil doings against me, his Swarm's attacks & the ongoing attempted murder upon me publicly, in the open...
Duh Jerk countered. He could prove I was a liar & would do so right now. "See his sunglasses"?
Yup, I wore sunglasses. I was the only child in school who could wear them with a Dr's prescription. Me. I was dressed in silk too, if that helps you picture the scene there in the courtyard during recess.
Prove? The uniformed on duty Bay City... cop seemed intrigued.
Duh Jerk went on to explain of course I was a liar. I was wearing sunglasses. The sum total of his defense.
Me? For a moment there I had visions of justice & an end to my ongoing public attempted murder dancing in my head.
The... cop? My wearing sunglasses was proof enough for him.
I protested. It wasn't my fault I had a then undiagnosed medical condition.
The... cops called me a liar & explained that he supposed that then, 1976 medical technology was infallible & the possibility of me having an undiagnosed medical condition was absurd. Since i was lying about my need for sunglasses I could be dismissed for lying about the kindly School Employee who was only there to protect children. It's only logical.
Fast forward a decade later. I've got a few Police & they're talking about investigating my claims.
Dirty Cop himself walks in. We debate. He loses. He was never a match for me in logic & deduction.
Dirty Cop changed his tactic. "I can prove he's lying".
His peers looked intrigued.
"Ask him about his sunglasses". Why was I wearing them? Did I need them?
Yup, sure did need them. But in a way not much. Usually even at the worst of times (usually) the pain from not wearing my sunglasses is manageable. A dull ache at 1st that grows after days. Often it takes minutes for me to even feel the 1st twinges of pain. Other days I am instantly blinded by bright light for up to 15 minutes. It changes often from day to day, hour to hour, & has even changed from year to year, being stable in the before mentioned states. I asked several Doctors & they all assured me there is no such medical condition if you're wondering (they say the truth shall set you free).
Then he told his peers tho ask me what my alleged medical condition was?
Truthfully I said it was an undiagnosed condition.
The roomful of... cops dismissed me on the spot. Telling me they assumed that the then 1980's medical technology was infallible & that the odds anyone could have an undiagnosed medical condition in that modern time was ludicrous. I'd been caught in a lie & thus could be dismissed because I was obviously a liar. Period.
On subsequent visits to the Bay County Law Enforcement Center sometimes one of those... cops was there. They brought up my sunglasses & told the room to dismiss me.
The... cops dismissed me on the spot for my lies.
Other times I came in & wore no sunglasses. Duh Jerk, Dirty Cop, or one of the many asked me where my sunglasses were. Sometimes with Dirty Cop standing right there.
I pointed to Dirty Cop & said. "He stole them".
I was dismissed outright.
Other times none of the above were there. I told them my sunglasses were stolen by the gang. I was reporting a kidnapping after all.
I wasn't wearing my sunglasses? Proof enough I had to be dismissed for my lies.
I recall once, while talking to cops from a host of areas , after having escaped capture I was reporting Dirty Cop as my kidnapper. In my opinion I wasn't losing in his debate & accusation phase of what was once my filing a report & now was a full blown interrogation.
He asked me if I needed my sunglasses for medical reasons.
They say the truth shall set you free? Yeah, I needed them.
Dirty Cop said he'd only asked me that to plant the suggestion in my mind. That I was willing to say anything to get sympathy & having agreed with his tempting question was proof I was a liar.
The cops dismissed me. Being i'd been caught fabricating a lie right in front of them. They all left me alone save for Dirty Cop who went. "Whew! I didn't think that would work". He congratulated me on a close call.
They used my sunglasses against me in other creative ways. You see above i just claimed that, at times, for a couple years at a time, my medical condition subsided for whatever reason & I wore no sunglasses at all. Why bother? I didn't need them.
Cops told me I was a lying liar, they'd caught me not wearing my sunglasses.
Duh Jerk & the gang bragged my sunglasses were a premier target for them & they stole & wrecked them whenever possible. Then pointed out to any ... cop who'd listen that I wasn't wearing my sunglasses. Thus, I was a liar they could dismiss.
Now my condition has been dismissed. The authorities of Marathon County stole my Dr's note declaring the condition. It didn't matter. I'm the only person inflicted with a condition that often causes light sensitivity in America who's totally lying about my light sensitivity. Always was, always will be.
Duh Jerk's Lt. threatened me that they planned to slip me a radioactive mickey. You see the condition allegedly has a "cure". With a Radioactive Iodine pill one can trade Graves disease for a condition called Hashimoto's disease. I thought about taking the cure but when you read my 1,500 page story to the FBI where someone dies every few pages I realized that Graves Disease saved my life a bazillion times (prayer even more times). I judged it too dangerous to get what I consider a "false cure". Trading the one for the other. This is based on what I consider an unacceptable amount of side effects that come from having Hashimoto's Disease while being stalked by a gang of madmen who boast they'd only need lock me in a room & watch me die slowly if the condition should ever befall me. More proof I'm lying I'd suppose? Being that a gang of madmen would never threaten a victim so, it's unethical!
A credible radiation attack threat if you're in a government agency tasked with investigating such things. Particularly once my case goes fully public & witnesses are turning to my side enmass.
The Last Snitch promised me a slow death in one of the gang's Ice Rooms (on ice). You see if you get Hashimoto's disease & don't religiously take your daily pill you slowly die. Slowly. He promised me a slow death & even said they were considering killing me thusly. "We all like David, but he just wouldn't take his pill & died. It's his own fault. Look at this list of people who have great films who say his death was his own fault".
Sunglasses. Some days I hate my sunglasses & there just may be a reason not listed that is my excuse for not wearing them.
That reason for not wearing my sunglasses is I hate them. I wake up some days & I ponder all the dead & injured my wearing sunglasses enabled a murderous kidnapping gang to get away with. Me... my own sunglasses.
On them days or even fleeting hours or even minutes i take off my sunglasses & just endure the pain.
That too... means I'm a liar the police can dismiss. Because I alone of all mankind take off my sunglasses against Dr's orders. Just me. It's only logical.
Oh boy...
Oh joy...
MY ADVICE:
Here I'll take a stab at advice. Not based on any desires to meddle in an investigation but based on demands by Uniformed Officers at their posts & on duty who asked me. “How do you want me to investigate this”? Explaining that I had to come up with a plan to go after the gang as a condition of them helping me. This is reluctantly my advice.
WHO AM I APPEALING TO FOR HELP???
Let me address Police everywhere right now. Who am I asking for help? ALL OF YOU! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! PLEASE HELP ME! PLEASE HELP ME! PLEASE HELP ME! PLEASE HELP ME! PLEASE HELP ME! PLEASE HELP ME! PLEASE HELP ME! PLEASE HELP ME! PLEASE HELP ME! PLEASE HELP ME! PLEASE HELP ME! PLEASE HELP ME! PLEASE HELP ME! PLEASE HELP ME! PLEASE HELP ME! PLEASE HELP ME! PLEASE HELP ME! PLEASE HELP ME! PLEASE HELP ME! PLEASE HELP ME! PLEASE HELP ME! PLEASE HELP ME! PLEASE HELP ME!
ADDRESSING SPECIFIC POLICE... probably not what you think...
Here I shall address specific types of law-enforcement officers & ask them to save my life. First I will define the type of Officer as I've met & interviewed all sorts of Police over the years & have a fair psychological profile of them. If your ears start to itch as you read this... I'm probably addressing you. I'm making no insult, this is pure desperation in order to save what might be left of my otherwise pathetic & sub-par life. Here goes:
SKEPTIC COPS:
I've dealt with your type a lot. If your mantra is. 'you'll have to prove it to me' you are probably a Skeptic Cop. You are battle-hardened & long ago tired of being conned by liars, con men, & the deluded. Your skepticism serves you well & there is little or nothing that can change your mind once you've made it up in the first 2 minutes of an investigation. Yeah, what I say hurts, get over it. I'm going to try & convince you to give me the time of day, but lets face it. I've failed for over a half-century straight. I don't see that streak changing anytime soon. But I'll try.
WHAT YOU'RE SIGNING ONTO:
Call any 10 dozen rape shelters you want & discuss my story with the veteran councilors. Every single bit of it is same old same old heard it ALL before to the grizzled vets I spoke to. If what I'm saying is false then the veterans of the field will disavow my story. But they wont. Call some using your badge... call others as a concerned citizen... call a few others as a victim seeking advice. Ain't got the time? The budget? You've got tons of family members who've begged you to help you (because of all the police types YOU are the most respected). Use 1 or 2. They'd like to help & might find calling shelters fascinating? Net cost & time for you & your budget? Nil.
You'll be signing onto the gang's lies. At 1st they'll be very palatable. But as time goes on they brag they like to add in flaws, change up witnesses, add & subtract evidence as only pros in the field coached by teams of dirty cops can. You'll pound the round peg into the square hole & it'll all look good. But as time goes on, particularly after the 1st trial they can make you pond that peg more & more, after a while on command. For those who's reputation is intertwined with them there is no hope, virtually none of you has the character to lift yourself out of their quagmire. I know, I know, not you. You're just way too good at your job. Frankly, that's what every single Skeptic Cop they've met has said to the mirror.
I hear the transition to dirty cop is a subtle one. 1st you're pounding the round peg for them infrequently, ignoring evidence, making deals (on film), & the gang can feel free to make witnesses appear & disappear, evidence that is completely damning one day is flimsy the next & soon you'll be cutting deals with a lot of their guys. Your reputation becomes more entwined. By the 2nd trial they brag they don't even pay you anymore. Every single Skeptic Cop who's dared to cross their path is owned. All of them. Logically, if I was wrong you'd hear about more frame-job gang failures? Logically? Right? You are a Skeptic right? Think!
THE GANG'S BOASTED ULTIMATE PLAN FOR YOU:
They brag their infallible, never fail (use logic here, have YOU oh ye Skeptic Cop ever heard of this plan failing?) plan is this. The gang feed you evidence as needed. They've got degrees you like to see. They've got the experience at selling their lies (obviously, decades of experience & they've not failed once). They tell me that making sure you ignore the fact I come from the rapingest place in the country (do ANY of you Skeptics look statistical data up ever? Just asking?). That as long as they can keep you looking at the infallible planted genetic evidence, watching their films (whether in secret or whatsoever they plan to commit to by releasing publicly) of me you'll never look at them. You'll prosecute me & feel pretty good about yourself at the textbook open & shut case before you.
“We plan to own them by the 2nd trial”. If they don't kill me outright, & after a year plus of sleep deprivation, torture, & food tainted by cheap to hire trustees (I know, I know, they all wear white so you don't see it as possible a gang banger could hire them on the cheap) I'll get a retrial. “Who cares how unfair your 1st trial is”? “All that matters is that you're wearing orange for your 2nd trial & we can call you convicted”. The theory, as bragged, is you'll be totally committed by the 2nd trial. Your reputation will be on the line. They'll take photos of you, involve themselves in your life as much as possible, on film. Then you dare not oppose them.
I know... sounds silly & you're probably saying. “I'd never fall for that! HMMPH”! OKAY, LOOK AS THIS LOGICALLY. How many fellow police have YOU ever heard of or researched who got to this point in a frame-job gang attack & changed their mind, & sided with the victim? Very, very, very few & far between if any. It almost always works. Applying logic it almost always works. Looking at the statistics it almost always works & if you take me down, even in a mundane seemingly harmless way the gang are poised to release any films of their choice at any time.
As a Skeptic Cop YOU are the gang's primary feeding source among the law-abiding community & they've always won against every single one of your brethren they've come against. Maybe you are all that and a bag of chips, but look at this logically. Wouldn't a little research, a tiny bit of probing as only an experienced Skeptic Officer can do flip over a rock & make the vermin scatter? Once you realize something is amiss, I know your Skeptic Cop Radar will zoom right in on the gang.
Me? I figure I'm probably doomed no matter what unless God intervenes. If I was you I'd worry about you, the bragged “real target” of the gang. You. The way I figure it is if you take care of yourself, I'll be just fine in any investigation that doesn't intermediately leap to conclusions & prosecute at 1st blood.
MY ADVICE:
Think of some cheap & easy way that takes little or no personal effort (nor budget) to poke the criminals in my life with a stick until you're satisfied I can be ignored. If I'm wrong no harm no foul. My story could never hurt anyone unless it was 100% true & exaggeration free. Right?
But if I'm right, & you flip over a few rocks & the vermin scamper for cover, their case is “too good” “too convenient”, or “just doesn't add up”. If you notice everyone has been coached by several “mock trials” over the decades... pounce.
Where 1st? Idano? But the gang whined for half a century that The Gym was the soft underbelly of their case. Sure all the children grew up & the Statute of Limitations is in effect (I guess?) but if they ALL lie ain't that Racketeering? If 60-100 people all of a sudden plead the 5th doesn't that raise a red flag?
COWARD COPS:
Do you cringe at the thought of bumping into “real organized crime”? Does your oath to serve & protect mean nothing to you when you consider yourself, your family, & your friends? Does the thought of anything riskier than traffic or desk duty terrify you? If you answered yes to any of these then you are likely a Coward Cop. You may be in denial, you got a gun & ain't afraid of me (a litmus test of all coward cops, I assure you, or so they threaten me). You are more likely quite comfortable with being a Coward. You made your oath in good faith, but now you've got a mortgage & a family to think about. I submit that if you are a Coward Cop you are ALSO a Thief Cop. How so? Because you have stolen through your lies & cowardice the job of a brave man who WOULD obey his oath to serve & protect myself & the many victims who died & their families. You personally sicken me but I suspect you only have the guts to threaten me. Not 1 on 1, you cowards all back down there too. But you''ll hide behind that badge & threaten me & mine all day. I suspect my fellow victims litter America's Prisons thanks to cowards like you they trusted to protect them in the end. Do us all a favor & quit huh? You would but you're probably afraid to do that too.
WHAT YOU'RE SIGNING ONTO:
The gang are masters at identifying cowards & dealing with them. You are all too easy to manipulate & I've listened to your brother cops tell me things like they'd gladly take me down for the gang for free if it ever came down to me or them. I submit they'd do it for free whenever prompted by the gang. You'll turn a blind eye to the gang & pond the round peg that is me into the hole on command for free. During a 2nd trial you will be too easy to manipulate, You are Plan A:. Once you show a coward side to the gang they'll never stop on a coward like you.
The gang brag it's common for their freshly broken Coward Cops to openly cry when they are 1st forced to drag a child back to the rape party “we let a few kids escape on purpose so they have to drag them back”. I hear it gets easier over time.
THE GANG'S ULTIMATE PLAN FOR YOU:
Your fate is easy to describe. Duh Jerk told me he personally hates Coward Cops. If you crack during torture too soon your end will be sooner rather than later at the hands of the gang as you cry a sentence I personally 'we don't like anyone who cracks to quickly. We see them as weak (and they don't like the weak, by weak I mean YOU)' have heard many of the gang scream just before I killed them for the gang. “BUT I'M LOYAL”!
But assuming you hold out & crack in a decent amount of time you'll be taking down their enemies one after another & a gang that prides itself in subtlety will simply overwhelm you in a swamp of evidence. Too bad for you they brag after the 2nd trial they wont even pay you anymore & you'll be doing evil deed after cover-up for free.
Dirty Cop himself told me the gang taught him a trick to sleep at night. He held the pillow to his face & screamed over & over until he passed out to sleep many nights. I heard a bunch of victim/members tell me the exact same thing. I asked him why not take sleeping pills & he told me he knew a favorite way for he gang to dispose of LOYAL members “who know too much” is to set their house on fire while they sleep in a drug-induced stupor. That & they do mean things to the drugged out cowards. So you'll either die pathetic or face life without any of those drugs that your Dr. prescribed you that probably currently get you through your day.
Your immediate family & even a few friends will all serve in the gang's brothels, your beautiful kids will serve for life after unfortunate accidents that required closed caskets (so no one's in a mood to check the body which is in a brothel for life). They'll divide your life's possessions in front of you & make you sign over your house just before they deal with you for the last time. Maybe your family will get to keep the house? The money they'll pay the gang for life will make it unlikely they will keep the property for generations & the gang are motivated to trip them up.
MY ADVICE:
Quit. Quit your job, make a vacancy for a brave man. I know you're probably to cowardly to face today's employment market & ain't got the guts to explain to your friends & family why you need to quit. So my advice is back off. Try your best to get a brave man to handle my case & have nothing to do with me & mine. I warned you.
If all else fails try to surround yourself with brave men for a while. When the gang have a few little kids zap you with tasers maybe you can show them how brave you are? Talk your way out of it? Impress them with how shiny your badge is? I assure you they wont be doing much talking which is fine because you ain't got the guts to oppose them anyway.
If you somehow get stuck with my case & cant divest yourself from it my advice is to put on your best game face, act brave, & ask a brave cop how to get the legal ball rolling the fastest way they can think of that lets you bow out gracefully.
My God have mercy on your soul. Coward.
DIRTY COPS:
The gang brag to me you're toast no matter what. “Even if he's one of our loyal members”. “The way we figure it is people will walk up to them & tell them a bunch of stuff we don't want anyone knowing”. In short... I've met a lot of the gang, a lot of them know me, & a whole lot of people involved are all totally loyal which means they all “know too much”. A lot of the people involved have generations of experience & frankly you'll be in a position to learn very damaging things about the gang. Hey, maybe you are totally loyal & would never betray the gang? A bullet only costs $1 & they'll know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you'll never use anything you learned against them.
Think about it if you are an experienced dirty cop? If the gang pick off just a few victims they get a little extermination happy. Right? If even 1/10th what I say is true then your life is doomed & I know you know that. Problem is you're basically not too bright to begin with if you're already a dirty cop reading this & probably trust the gang implicitly. “They never did nothing to me”. Yeah, that comes in the end after they've gained your trust.
GOOD COPS:
I suspect you are a rare breed. Honest & likely good working due to a good work-ethic. Possibly brave. You're probably close to the Skeptic... cops & are tired of never getting the big win against the Child-Molestor Community of America. Well I have good news for you. Sure I'm likely doomed, don't worry too much about me it sucks to be me & the gang brag it always will. What I represent is a vast community of Child-Molestors who are deep deep deep into crime. Serious crimes with literally hundreds of capital offence charges with nearly 1,000+ potential witnesses.
WHAT YOU'RE GETTING INTO:
You're about to take down a vast community of the most wicked molestors & look very very good doing it. I promise.
THE GANG'S ULTIMATE PLAN FOR YOU:
They plan to corrupt you. Plan A: Do it subtly & slowly. Failing you falling for anything they'll target your friends, family, & co-workers & see if they can get you to “fix' things for them illegally. Screw up once during the initial battle against them & you're going to be just another victim/member & remember they've taken down many a former good... cop. You are not special. Keep it humble.
MY ADVICE TO YOU:
Ponder the other advice I've given. But only because to win you've got to think outside the box. Training about what to do when a large group of children surround you armed with tasers is a must & those of your team who say they wont be able to act should be dismissed.
Note: People are going to get hurt. Old & young. Secure your legal & personal safety by preparing your superiors BEFORE the investigation so that when the gang throw a lot of lives, old or young at you or your team you can act decisively without fear of retribution from on high. The gang brag they have lots of heavy hitters. Guys with very high-powered badges who can swoop in & just dismiss any... cop with a flash of their 2”X3” tin shield they keep in a wallet. They brag of the certainty that their politician member/victims & victim/members will be sure to attack your funding. So either secure that beforehand politically or resign yourself to the singular truth that... you will lose funding. A team that's looking at total or partial funding loss may dampen the blow to morale.
Always obey the law & be nice. Sickly nice even. It really ticks them off & leaves them with little leverage.
The gang will absolutely use faked pictures against you. So why not use a few against them? Faked photos shown to your team or suspects legally so as to harden them against the gangs coming photo slurs (fake photos of you & yours the gang will show their guys to put them in a good mood, the moral high-ground when they kidnap & torture you. A simple explanation could very much nullify or render much less effective one of their greatest attacks against victims. Be sure to do it to just about everyone involved. It'll only take a minute or 2.
The gang brag they use fake SWAT Teams to raid police offices & take the whole unit down. Make sure your headquarters is a fortress no 1 compromised secretary can let a molesting team into. Easier said than done I know, your budget is probably going to start lean & quickly go down as you experience success.
INSURE YOUR POSITION WITH HIGHER UPS beforehand! GO TO THEM, GET THEM TO AGREE YOU ARE IN CHARGE & YOU WONT BE DISMISSED AT THE 1ST SIGN SOMETHING GOES SOUTH OR LOOKS POLITICALLY INCORRECT. Secure your job. The gang brag they like to send in their guys with fantastic records of taking down “middle management” at the 1st sign of you doing well & that they've got the political clout & contacts to make it happen. Afterward you'll never work in an important position in Law Enforcement again. Think about it? If they do ever get you replaced, keeping you down afterwards is 100 times easier. I warned you.
All plans MUST be able to survive as if the enemy were sitting in the briefing room as you plan them. Well, nearly all. In the beginning I thought to say invite them to sit at your planning table but I say make them earn it. I'm not saying they out tech you but the gang brag they do. I say it's likely they have the best, most expensive, & newest intel gathering gear & have lots more experience than you using it. Plus unlike you & yours who have a life they have tons of people on drugs who have no life & are content to sit in place & listen & watch your team all day every day. Thus using your technology mere effectively & with more experience. Plan for this. Deal with it & not like your peers I've encountered (who are often violent at the mere suggestion of this paragraph, even 3rd rate hick police at the very thought a child-molestor might be their technological equal or even better).
Be prepared to check, double check, & triple check everything. The gang are notorious liars, have lots of bragged contacts in government, & would love nothing more than to fill your side of the court with their actors & tons of falsified data sure to make your case fall apart.
​
LIES: IT'S HOW THE CHILD-MOLESTERS GET THINGS DONE... alt. title... things Professional lifestyle child-molesters say that always works against mid-Michigan... cops
Below are a few of the lies the child-molesters I've met all over the country are very comfortable telling to deflect, deceive, or fool easily gulled... cops. Listed in no particular order but I'll start with their favorite. I ask the wise to ponder what kind of person might tell such a lie, what their goals might be, & it's implications. In short I'm asking you to NOT think like a mid-Michigan... cop. Rise above, learn, grow.
​
1: "You can ignore him because HE'S a child-molester". Yup... their top lie. #1. First & foremost. Their go to lie. The lie that is them. The lie that symbolizes who they are & what is wrong with their group. The lie of lies. The ultimate lie. The victim is the real scumbag here because the gang's victim is a child-molester. "You want proof? Look at all these films"! "You want proof? Our dirty... cop saw all the films the guy made"! "You want proof? Just ask any of these known child-molesters if he's one of us"? The lies are all variations on the same theme & it's the main lie they tell. "Such & such is crazy & on drugs & is our friend. It always works because everyone knows to say that".
2: "We wouldn't be doing this to him if the guy wasn't a scumbag". (Though I suspect many mid-Michigan... cops would be injured shaking their heads side to side if they ever read this) This one is infallible. Always works. Never fail... until now. The way it works is the gang pours out it's evil on it's victims. Soon everyone's talking what a scumbag their victim is & the evil they do is proof enough unto itself the victim is deserving of any amount of evil. "You want proof the guys a scumbag? We wouldn't be doing this stuff to him if he wasn't". The truth is if they weren't attack me they'd just set their sights on the next guy on the list & the perpetual hate that empowers the gang would just go on. Hopefully with another... cop (statistically it's unlikely the same officer would be tagged to investigate their next victim, statistically speaking that is)
3: "Yeah, you caught us Officer. But we only did it because the guy is such a scumbag. Like this". The gang usually have prepared & practiced lies to accuse a victim en mass as a matter of business. I've had... cops catch the gang in mid-kidnap, in mid assault, with weapons even outnumbers 3, 5 & even 20 to one & the... cops let them all go & called me, the victim, THE VICTIM a scumbag. Then they all spewed a list of lies & the... cops told me. "Justice was served". Mainly because I was the real scumbag in the conversation.
4: "He hurt us".Kinda fits into #3 actually but merits it's own number. The gang attacks, usually with a pack of wimps & people get hurt. Injuries range from little boo boos to serious injury. They present these to law-enforcement like trophies. "See? That scumbag did this to me. Just ask him"?!?!?!?! If a victim truthfully admits causing the injury another innocent victim often goes down in flames. But in truth it's more likely the gang will use police indifference to walk away. They don't want to contest it in court. Besides, they just scored a victory in "The Court of Cop Opinion". A concept Duh Jerk himself taught to me in his office in 1976 when he was trying to recruit me.
5: "Ask his Mother". Or "Ask his _____(insert family member or authority figure's name here)____". I'll add in some honors here in caps. HONOR! HONOR! HONOR! Okay, read this & learn. I'm being framed, stalked by a gang of professional frame-artists & blackmailers who use child-porn as the primary tool in their ongoing campaign of blackmailing private citizens. I am a child of a loyal child-molesting family in good standing with the gang. They work tirelessly towards the gang's goals, chiefly in satisfying police who contact them on behalf of the gang. All part of being loyal to the gang.
Right now according to crime census' I've read there are 1.4 million people in organized crime in America. You mean to tell me here's not a single child of a loyal child-molesting gang, blackballed before birth (they boasted). Logically my story WOULD ONLY BE POSSIBLE if I came from a loyal child-molesting family & in all probability came from or near the rapingest place in the free world. Logic? Get it?
RECAP: I come from a loyal child-molesting family who operate in a gang in the area of the nation with the most rapes against women (it changes from year to year, sometimes it's #1, sometimes drops a little). As a child I went to a child-molester controlled school. In fall 1976 I was embroiled in a massive attempted murder against myself with 1,000 or more witnesses. That means I'm saying up to 3% of Bay City are or were my witness pool.
<<----------
If you're an honest Police Officer you're probably thinking you nor any of your peers would ever fall for the tale of I Can Prove Mr. George is Lying...
"It sounds absurd to me. See this 2"x3" piece of tin I & my most excellent peers wear on our chest? We would never fall for that"!
I'm here to say to you law enforcement champions I never saw the tactic fail once. Ever.
Infallible...
​
​
Infallible
in·fal·li·ble
/inˈfaləb(ə)l/
adjective
-
incapable of making mistakes or being wrong.
"doctors are not infallible"
Similar:
unerring
error-free
unfailing
faultless
flawless
impeccable
perfect
true
uncanny
precise
accurate
meticulous
scrupulous
spot on
on the money
-
never failing; always effective.
"infallible cures"
Similar:
unfailing
never failing
always effective
guaranteed
dependable
trustworthy
reliable
sure
certain
safe
sound
tried and tested
foolproof
effective
efficacious
sure-fire
-
​
-
6: "Lets call the whole thing off". Or it's brother lie. "We wont hurt him anymore. We promise. We just got carried away because the guy's such a scumbag". Cops I've met are particularly prone to falling for this lie. I cant blame them because I fell for it at 1st a few times. The gang promise they'll leave me alone. They're not bad guys really. Just concerned citizens who got a little carried away at a scumbag like myself of my probably long list of fellow victims. Also, note the wording of their "apology" which is no apology. Gang members are trained to add insults to their pretend apologies whenever possible. They boast this is to condition... cops & those who might help their victims into insulting their victims & to get them used to insulting the gang's many victims.
I've had... cops who were basically peacemakers at heart (I salute their effort, but not their results, a pile of dead children in a madman's backyard) tell me things like. "There you go. Problem solved". Now I could rest easy because the gang has agreed to call off their dogs.
I've actually been attacked by the gang as I left the Bay County Law-Enforcement Center. They ain't calling off anything. I'm their "Get out of Jail Free Card". The guy who can get their top guys out of prison on demand in exchange for the films damning me to prison in their stead. "You Cops let me go & I'll give you the goods on a 'real scumbag". Duh Jerk told me it works, & it works well. Just go up the chain of command with a big wad of cash & the next moron will probably take the money. Little do they know that THEY were the real target from day 1 & if any... cop reading this is stupid enough to take a Nickle from them then the gang will pursue them to the end of time. Or so they boast?
Think about it? Who do you think they chase? Random good-guy Police or the... cops they perceive as weak-minded because they were stupid enough to take money from the gang. "We plan to kill the cop in charge of your case. Even if it's one of our loyal guys".
Hey, I warned you.
​
​
WATCHING THE GUY YOU JUST MORTALLY WOUNDED DIE SLOWLY... YET AGAIN...
SoooOOoooooooOOOOOOooooo... there I was, kidnapped & likely in a High School Gymnasium that Duh Jerk, Fagboy, Short Stuff, Duh Weasel, The Last Snitch... & a large assortment of Jocks who'd been dwindling in number to less than half what they once were & alllllllllll by my hand. Well them & the arena of people watching the armed uniformed... cops, Bay City's very own Dirty Cop dressed in uniform & having arrived in his marked Bay City Police Car, & the self-professed Sherriff who ran the entire thing. Everyone was watching us... myself & some fit African American probably 5 to 10 years my senior. He'd promised my death at Duh Jerk's request to claim the bounty Duh Jerk bragged he offered all the men who opposed me that day. We begin with the crowd cheering. They loved the fight & still cheered as it degenerated into a wrestling match. I had the man in a leg scissors about his torso, his arms pinned to being unable to move above his waist. He'd bragged today I would die & he'd be $5,000 richer.
Me? I had to end this quickly by my estimation, I just didn't have enough energy left in the tank for a long drawn out fight with this fresh fit man. So I stretched his head back with 1 hand brought my right forearm down on his throat with a chopping motion with all my might 3 times. WHAM! WHAM! WHAM!
He put everything he had into throwing me off & broke the hold & threw me off him like a rag doll & we both stood up.
His bald & fit manager, his self-professed friend who'd bragged about my death ran into the arena & the fight stopped. The arena filled with guards & spectators who wanted to get close to the action & they surrounded the pair of men obscuring them from my sight.
Me? I paused to suck in air. Alert as 1 could be on their drug(s?). The world rippling about me & pain burning it's way through the drugs.
The Bald-Headed Manager seemed to be tending his guy from what little I could see of them.
So I waited...
The man's neck swelled in seconds to over double it's size, I didn't think it could swell that much that quickly. He looked like he had trouble breathing.
Me? I just wanted the fight to end. Though I too had promised him & anyone foolish enough to fight me death just before his match. "To fight me is death". And I meant it.
There's a moment of time in a fight, an unspoken moment where one just knows what their opponent is thinking. In a moment of time I could tell he assessed he could barely breathe & was about to die. The people around him told him as much. He looked at me & I could just tell he figured this moment was his last chance to kill me. To avenge his life as his throat swelled shut.
He attacked!
I defended myself.
We fought... Not long...
I wondered when he might drop as I watched his neck swell to well over double it's original size. I didn't think a human neck could swell that large & it kept growing. I figured his airway was closed up & he wouldn't last long so I adopted a mostly defensive fighting style. Attacking only to keep his offense off balance. As a rule I never look my opponent (or just about anyone) in the eyes during a fight. He's one of the few. I stared into his eyes & in my opinion they told me that he knew he was going to die, here, and now. His eyes also told me that he had every intention of taking me to the grave with him.!
I'll testify it can take a fit man in the prime of his life hopped up on adrenaline & possibly who knows what drugs about 2 minutes or so to drop in a fight.
The man fought like a lion & then just dropped like a ton of bricks THUDD!!! The fight was over.
His Manager tended him & the crowd circled him & I could see in his eyes he knew there would be no compassion for his friend. He was going to die. In a fit of rage he attacked me!
So I defended myself. I recall praying to God that this was unfair. I'd been through so much, fought so many, had so many more to fight & now I had to fight this guy too? It just wasn't fair. I was closing in on empty in the tank & I was out of ideas.
Everyone just watched as we exchanged blows for a time.
Eventually The Sherriff instructed that we should be broken up. There was no winner.
WOW! Was he mad at the death of his friend.
No one helped him.
So we all just stood around & watched him die... slowly...
Slowly...
I recall pleading with the Ambulance Crew who were dressed as Paramedics to save the man. Oddly when they refused the Manager joined me in pleading on his friend's behalf. The 2 of us standing side by side pleading with the smiling madmen who had the equipment & knowledge that could save a man that was every bit my brother before God. A man, like we all are or were, misguided by the Devil who is very real. A Devil who told that man who should've been my brother that it would be a good way to make money by killing me. You know he was there too. And I'll bet that he was smiling like many of the people around the ring while we watched that man die... slowly...
The worst part? THE WORST PART!?!?!?!!?! As I begged them to perform a tracheotomy on the man the Paramedics refused. But they told me they'd give me a tiny knife & if I could try do the procedure myself (I pleaded for them to give me advice on how to do the procedure & they refused me).
So what did I do while I watched my misguided brother, a child of God die slowly while I stood there fearing for myself. What would happen to me if the edited film should show me cutting into the man's throat & that being the wound that slew him. Fear. Me. Fear, from the guy who has said his religion forbids fear. Yeah, I was an atheist then, but that's a poor excuse. I figured since I had no idea how to perform the operation, I'd likely do more harm than good. I doubted myself in the then mental state inflicted on me by my recent weeks of torture & deprivation I'd recently suffered. I looked around for cameras & recall seeing none at that time. But it was fear that paralyzed me there. Fear that somehow the films of me killing the man & cutting the mortal wound that killed him into his throat would be the film of films the gang craved.
I let him die then & there because... because I was afraid. I wonder what the excuses of the many spectators were? Each one will one day give a full account of everything they did there via every spoken word when they soon stand before God.
In the minutes to come several of my captors teased me. I should've tried to save the now dead man now unceremoniously shoved against the wall like trash or a trophy (I'm not sure which). To which I responded I was afraid I'd do more harm than good. They smiled when they retorted that worst that could happen to him back then was that he would've died. Which happened anyway.
Their words cut me deeper than any blade ever could.
The... gang bragged many times over the years their films that day have inspired many vigilantes against me & the man's loyal Molestor family can't wait to oppose me in court to avenge their son/family member/sibling/ect.
He wasn't the only 1 to die that day...
​
THE EYES HAVE IT... He lived...
Soooooooooooo.... there I was, fighting against other men for the amusement of madmen. For revenge they brag. “Because of The Gym”.
I stood & watched the men fight from in the arena. Probably just a school gym with cheap slat board seating surrounded by plywood walls to hem in the fighters. Both the reluctant (me) & the proud to be there (many of the participants).
Duh Jerk had been approaching my opponents & offering them $5,000, maybe $10,000 if they were the ones to kill me. You see the fights weren't necessarily to the death. Most fighters lived. Most...
Me? My internal fuel reserves were getting lower fast & I didn't see any way out. So I ran for it! Fighting my way out of the arena. POW! POW! POW!
I was fighting their “Best of”, the guys who remained of the dozens of young men who'd been torturing me for weeks. Oops... did I say torture? The Bay City Police informed me that even if my story were true that I was NOT tortured, never tortured. Under threats of violence even. Publicly. At their post in the Bay County Law Enforcement Center. In front of a host of their uniformed & on duty peers. literally.
Where were we? Oh yeah... POW! POW! POW! I was fighting my way out. I was winning! Guys were dropping! To those from the school of hard knocks they know what I mean when I say I had momentum! POW! POW! POW!
The fight announcer made a plea over his P.A. For the crowd to help control me. A few joined in, then many & I was stopped by the masses just short of freedom. They held me down, I fought my next match beginning it by a speech. “To fight me is death”! And so on. I just didn't think I had the energy to fight the list even if I won every single match. I had to try & scare a few.
Next guy. I don't recall him threatening my life at the time of this writing. Most of the guys I fought did.
Me? Nervous. It was my lack of energy. My Quadriceps giving out in spots. Other muscles just giving out in spots. So I came up with a plan.
They decided that I should stand in the arena & watch. Mostly because to approach me was to invite attack. So I watched & my turn came again.
My attacker sized me up & “The Sherriff” stood by to start the match. I stood with my left side to my opponent, hiding my right arm,
The guy was about my age, height, & weight. In great shape & obviously a champion.
The moment he signaled we fight I swung my left at the man's eyes in an easy to block swing & he blocked it. The theory being it might obscure my fingers parted into a “V” which I aimed at his eyes! I poked out both his eyes! POKE! Unusual. Usually when I do that (did I say “usually”? Sheesh!) most people, even non-combatant types block. If they don't maybe 1 eye gets poked out as a rule. Both happens sometimes.
The time? 0.7 seconds & I was revealed it was over. I stood & watched the Sherriff tend the man who rolled around on the floor in agony.
The Sherriff ordered me. “Kill him”.
I refused.
“Kill him or I'll kill you”.
I said. “Go ahead”. I refused to kill the man no matter what.
The man recovered & demanded revenge. The Sherriff said he could have it now IF he wanted to keep fighting. The man wanted to keep fighting. So he announced the match would continue.
Me? I just avoided the blind man.
The crowd joined in. First 1 or 2 then most people shouted commands. “Go left”! “Right”!
So I went right & left & avoided the man. The Sherriff threatened me to kill him.
I refused.
People in the crowd suggested we be tied together & forced to fight. Shaking his head the Sherriff eventually declared the match over.
He lived. The next guy wasn't so lucky.
I endured this.
REJECTED... again & again...
I have a lot of rejection stories. The... cops of mid-Michigan are a simple lot. By simple I mean not very good at their jobs or corrupt (as many have bragged to me in uniform at their posts in the Bay County Law Enforcement Center... literally). Here's my comments on them... cOPS as a whole.
The Skeptic... cOPS? I come in, report a crime, and they say. "You got any proof"?
Yup! Sure do. "See THAT... cop right there? He'll admit they attacked me in a large group with weapons".
"That's not proof".
"Oh. What is then"?
I've been attacked in the Police station. Several times. Many. Why not? In my story I allege that using the gang's dirty... cops they tortured me INSIDE the copshop work & office environs. During the day. In the front office. The front hall & the offices. When I was able to involve other... cops. The alleged Skeptic... cOPS were all to glad to ignore my pleas for help & assist in my beat down & refused any follow-up. Period!
Welcome to my America.
The Idiot... cOPS? I come in, report a crime, and they say. "Listen, I know you're lying. Do you know how"?
Nope! I sure do not know how they know. But I answer I'm sure they'll tell me.
"Because no one would do that".
WOW! Foolproof. My entire story is indefensible. My report is criminal at best & I'm lucky to not be going to jail for filing a false police report.
Yeah, lucky, lucky me. Huh?
Welcome to my America. It's only trivia to add that when confronted by... cops thusly I usually demanded, yes demanded that I be criminally prosecuted to the full extent of the law for filing a false police report. They allllllllllll declined my challenges. All. A quantity of 100%. Every single one.
Corrupt... cOPS? I come in, report a crime, and they say, literally. "I'm one of them [the gang]". Among other things. Yup! Corrupt as a 3 Dollar Bill & proud of it to guys like me because they get to brag to so few people, so this is a rare treat. While in uniform & at their taxpayer-funded post & on duty I've heard them say to me. "Go ahead. Tell the other cops. They won't believe you. I'm one of the most trusted guys around here". Then they'd go on to brag about how they intend to thwart any investigation I might try to stir up. So I asked a few of them why? Some said it was for love that they did this. A few said it was for money. But not much money. The gang is cheap & they don't pay even their best guys & most loyal dirty... cops anything but chump change I'm told. It's all about making them money (the Bosses, not some chump dirty... cop), not the dirty... cops whom they hate (even their most loyal dirty... cops can expect an early end & a painful death because, wait for it, wait, because they, the gang hate... cops. Even their loyal guys they shower with love (actually, ESPECIALLY the guys they shower with affection I'm told, they brag they like to see the look of surprise on the dirty... cop's face when "the end is nigh").
Welcome to my America.
Cops... cops... cops... I've met a lot of'em. Skeptic, Idiots, & the Corrupt, they've all beat me down and all of them told me they felt pretty good about it too when I asked them later (yeah, I would ask). They broke the law when they facilitated my kidnapping & gang rapes, beat me down, or ignored my reports. Some didn't. A few were (prepare to gasp) professional in their demeanor.
It's 9-16-21 & I was just writing about several people who are likely trying their best to make me seem like I'm in places I am not for what is likely sinister reasons. That is in between my tortures, gang rapes, child-porn appearances, & snuff film starring roles. Think of the children oh ye Skeptic... cops & laugh. It IS what you do best. Isn't it? Besides, when the kids die horribly & in a way that will never link them to their murderers it's probably some kid you don't even know. Laugh... laugh... laugh clown. Laugh. Laugh... cop. Laugh...
​
Sinister sin·is·ter/ˈsinistÉ™r/1. giving the impression that something harmful or evil is happening or will happen. "There was something sinister about that murmuring voice "Similar: menacing threatening ominous forbidding baleful frightening
​
Whatever...
