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.
Is this body count high enough for you?
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No corruption 'round here... See below...
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.
------------------->>>>>
I have no idea who or even where the Sunrise Police who are are. Who or where they are is not the point.
The point is a Police saying told to me many times by uniformed & on duty Police.
"There are no dirty cops around here (no matter where you are)".
My Mother (honor Honor Honor) worked at the Bon Ton Bar herself.... My Bro too... just a coincidence...
They actually told me they'd have my parents sue & they turn around & keep the cash for themselves... freshly laundered of course... I make no accusations against the grieving family in Saginaw & apologize for mentioning it.
Couldn't happen here, we have no corruption (no matter where you are).
All I said was "I wonder"? Nothing more. I'm sure no good police were framed... probably?
I'm sure that when... cops investigate my story's timeline they'll say it's just a coincidence... I would... Probably?
PROVOCATION... It's how they do it...
Provocation.... The gang endlessly provoke their many victims. Attacks both verbal & physical, against the victim's property & loved ones or acquaintances.
The provocation augments their rape gang attacks. Driving a victim to retaliate.
Actual rapists are sent to "innocently" interact with their victims, even try to befriend them. All on film.
If the rapist Insert can provoke their victim usually a van full of Jocks can LEGALLY & CHEERFULLY beat them to a pulp to defend the usually smaller rapist Insert antagonist.
Worse is, (they DO use the Date Rape Drug & it erases memories) the gang film the victim speaking kindly or maybe even befriending the rapist insert. Powerful evidence that a given victim is a liar or insane... or both I'm told.
I've been attacked by the gang thousands of times. Literally. Sometimes you see the Jock-filled van, sometimes you don't.
As a teenager after a given provocation by yet another unknown attacker I would pick a random direction & run (only AFTER the altercation, not during, lest I be called a coward for running). More often than not I picked the correct direction & found Duh Jerk or one of the 4 Stars standing there with a camera talking to a team of teen models of either sex & a variety of races. If the camera-wielding gang-banger is approached by the victim (I mean myself, the Author of this website) the teen models form a wall, a human shield & attack. Protecting the camera wielder.
I recall asking Duh Jerk one day why he always used a blonde, brunette, & Italian girl as human shields? It didn't make sense to me?
Duh Jerk told me the 3rd girl wasn't Italian, she was Hispanic. The theory being that they can claim to have been racially attacked by the gang's victim.
I asked why they attacked outright?
Duh Jerk said he had lots of people try to grab the cameras, it made for sticky legal trouble. So it was better to just outright attack any victim who came near & claim to have been attacked by their racist victim. "When a model tells the cops you attacked them because of their race they'll break out the night stick just about every time". Then he's got great films against the victim AND the... cop who'll soon testify against the victim for the gang, lest they be charged for what they were tricked into doing to the gang's victims.
I said it several times & I'll say it again. I'm likely doomed no matted what barring a miracle from God. I am NOT the target. If you are reading this YOU are the target. I'm just their "Recruiter". The guy the gang pours out it's evil on with impunity because they just happen to have secured my family's loyalty.
It's how the scam works.
There's gonna be a jailbreak...
The uniformed Sheriff had his back to me, chatting with a blond teenager, short, about 18 years old, who sort of helped around the "jail" & acted as a guard of sorts watching me & dosed me from time to time when it was his shift to do. So I grabbed the... cop from behind the bars by the throat with one hand & grabbed his pistol with the other hand.
As near as I could tell the uniformed on duty... cop had few options. He struggled to lift his gun from the holster. Logical, because it's what I would've done. But my goal wasn't to draw his pistol but to put my full weight onto it, preventing him from drawing it. I had a death grip on his voice box. He couldn't breath nor cry out for help. He grabbed at my hand on his throat but there was no removing it without hurting himself. But he kept trying.
The uniformed... cop had a 3rd option that hadn't occurred to him. Since I'd grabbed him over the middle bracing bar that secured the cell if he'd just sat down or collapsed he'd have been free in a second & that fact gnawed at my mind.
The blond teen lunged for me clawing at my face. But he was too short & by my using the... cop as a shield he couldn't reach my face & ineffectively clawed at my clothed chest. He tried to help the... cop gain control of his gun but even with the small scrawny teen's help the pair couldn't counter my weight holding the gun down in the holster. So he switched sides & lunged for my face.
So I switched sides & he just couldn't reach my face.
The teen screamed for help. No one came. He jumped at my face. He barely missed. The entire time the... cop's air supply was diminishing.
The cop still had his 3 options. He could hold the gun & soon pass out. He could let go of his revolver & I'd be armed
The teen gave up attacking me & rushed outside to get the army of teen Jocks they had outside perpetually playing hakcy-sack.
The uniformed... cop made his descision... he chose to let go of his revolver so he could use both hands to free his breathing.
& dangerous. Or he could just wait until he passed out.
There's gonna be a jail break...
After I'd tricked the Jocks into the cell with my gun likely filled with blanks I slammed the door shut.
The... cop recovered gasping enough to speak. "You idiots! That gun wasn't loaded! Only the 1st bullet was real & you knew that"!
Me? I had not time for self-congratulation. I cursed myself for not throwing the knocked out secretary into the cell with them & pondered doing so. They'd already tried tricking me into coming near when my memory had reset once. They'd been trying to trick me, hoping my memory would reset again. They'd attacked when I'd come near when I searched the jailhouse for anything useful to make my escape. I judged that going near the cell wasn't an option. So what to do with her?
I pondered all the people as of late who only acted dead or knocked out then laughed at me when I left & they got back up & called an army to avenge them. I figured I was a goner in any event. Surely, the gang was going to kill me this very day before I did this, this was just icing on my death cake.
So I pondered how to keep her from getting up? So I used all my laborer might & snapped the neck of the 40ish year old once beautiful secretary. I mean I really worked her neck with all my might. Everything. K-K-K-KRACK! Her head was twisted beyond being backwards.
The... cop said. "You didn't have to kill her".
I said. "Yes I did".
He countered. "You could've just tied her up".
Me? I thought it was a good idea. I was in a jail house & there were restraining devices a plenty all around me. You see reader, that's the downside of their drug(s?). Certain things that'd simply occur to anyone just aren't on the list of available options because of their drug(s?). I'll explain it like this. A normal list of options of what to do next might be. "Fight, flight, mercy, try reasoning, tie'em up, just leave'em, or try sitting down & coming up with a better plan". Right? But while on their drug(s?) the concept of restraint wasn't even on my list of then available options to deal with the situation. The strange part? After each reset the list of available options might (maybe) change again & a plan begun one way might end radically different than the original plan because I have no memory of the original plan available to me after that last particular memory reset.
As a mid-Michigan... cop reading the last few paragraphs you are likely stunned by even entertaining the concept of mental degradation of faculties by drugs. Put your head between your knees & breath. Seek medical help. 8
BECAUSE WE'RE ALL WAY TOO GOOD AT OUR JOBS FOR SOMETHING LIKE THAT TO HAPPEN... Mid-Michigan... cop rant...
Michigan State fined $4.5M by feds for 'complete failure' in protecting students from Larry Nassar
The fine is nearly twice that $2.4 million Penn State had to pay for the Sandusky scandal. According to NBC News on 9-5-19
U.S. Attorney: Michigan leads nation in public corruption cases
Matthew Schneider says the feds have 'plenty' ore investigation targets
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By Mitch Hotts mhotts@medianewsgroup.com
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Jun 3, 2019
THERE'S GONNA BE A JAIL BREAK... Munger... cOP Style...
Sooooo... there I was, it was 1976 & about the time of “The Gym”. My ongoing premeditated & rehearsed attempted murder was in full swing. The Children of the Gym (child student participants whom I'd like to call “co-conspirators”, did I say like? Whatever...) were under strict orders to NOT talk to me EXCEPT for insults. Which they were encouraged & filmed doing to me full-time (proof The Gym couldn't have happened. Otherwise I wouldn't let 100 children & adults call me wimp & worse names, on film, right?). Still, some of the children chose to talk to me. In-between telling them I didn't believe a word a single one of them said they still said things. Since on occasion this lead to life-saving information I listened, but took it with a grain of salt (unlike nearly EVERY mid-Michigan... cop I ever met who publicly boasted on child-molester honor & truthfulness, among other child-molesting virtues a single page could not contain).
Recap: The Gym was going on, they were trying to kill me, but it had to be in the school cafeteria which was used for Gym Class 1st Period. Children were under strict orders not to talk to me but some did.
One of the Children of the Gym brought up a tried & true Child-Molestor Gang technique. He said the gang had a fake Munger Jail, being that Munger Michigan had no jail. That the gang jailed people there, tortured them at their leisure, & either released them or arranged for their escape to give their victims impossible stories & many were stupid enough to go to distant... cops & say. “I was tortured in the Munger Jail”! Or “I just escaped from the Munger Jail”!
Double my age at this point...
Tick tick tick...
Tick tick tick...
Tick tick tick...
Soooo I was in my early 20s, the gang was torturing me & I killed some of them in what they claimed was Munger Michigan. I busted up as many gang bangers as I killed so short-handed & not willing to admit defeat to his boss Duh Jerk Fagboy & Duh Weasel took me to The Munger Michigan Jail. A white 1-roomed jailhouse. It had a bathroom & offices but was mainly a single room building with a barred room opposite the entrance, a few desks, & a big, locked gun case on the wall.
The staff were eager to house me & informed me they were in the gang & would openly keep me drugged. I could beg for help all I wanted but with them to make fun of me visitors would believe I was insane. They did this often & it always worked. They'd keep me on ice until the gang sent for me, likely to imprison me for which me being in jail already was a great start.
People came & went regularly. I begged them for help & the police told them I was crazy & to ignore me. The people told me I was crazy & for the most part ignored me. A few did engage me in conversation. To which degree any of them tried to help me elsewhere (which is what I asked them for), I can't say?
Me? I recalled my conversation in The Gym regarding the Munger Jail. But still... what if this place was for real? I plotted my escape...
As the drugs they had me on began to wear off the time came to drug me & the gang usually walked up to my cell & asked me to present myself for drugging. “Stick out your arm”. I did. Not me, the drug or drugs I was on compelled me to be so easily drugged. But occasionally I said. “No”. So, they just asked again after allowing time for my memory to reset.
The "Munger Jail staff" seemed polite enough. There was always at least a single deputy on duty & sometimes 2. At times Michigan State Police showed up & dropped off a prisoner & later retrieved them in either hours or the next day. People dressed as ordinary civilians came every few hours & claimed to be victims of crimes. The Deputy on duty would file a report.
Me? I begged every one of them for help from my kidnappers. I counseled every prisoner that this was no real jail but that it was a fake waystation where the gang kept victims on ice as convenient for whatever was the next stage of their coming frame job, blackmailing, or worse. I even recall a fellow prisoner resisting with me prompting the entire jock army, Michigan State Police, & Munger Police to subdue us both & drag him off. I was alone in the cell thereafter.
They provided meals of no poor nor great quality.
The staff often engaged me in conversation. At 1st it was polite but went something like poor insane me, of course I was nuts because this was a real police station & my saying it wasn't only proved I was insane, criminally insane, or a conman. In the end after my fellow prisoner was dragged out of the cell they dropped the scam & talked to me frankly. The Deputy, near as the drugs will let me recall at the time of this writing, liked his job. The way he saw it was I was getting what was coming to me & he liked his job. The short Jail Assistant really liked his job. Since he was short & puny his job had authority & he liked bossing people around.
I could tell just by looking at her the red-headed secretary had been a solid 10 in her youth & was now aging gracefully. She was likely in her mid to late 40s & liked her job. It was the thrill of playing cop she liked. She loved manipulating men with her looks. Even guys who knew who & what she was. She bragged that even when they knew she was in the gang they'd still obey her based on her looks.
Me? I told her I believed her, but that she should look in a mirror, I liked women in their 40s & her looks were starting to fade.
She admitted I was right. But that as soon as just last year she was seducing men for the gang of just about all ages. Even men who knew she was in the gang AND tasked with destroying them, such was her beauty.
I believed her. I could tell she had been that beautiful. A solid 10. I told her she reviled me with who & what she was now that she'd told me about herself & wouldn't be seducing me.
She called me a liar. "I saw the way you looked at me when you 1st got here".
I retorted that was when I wondered if she was in on the con or just an innocent but easily manipulated fellow victim. But now I was over that & could see her for what she was clearly based on her bragging about the hundreds of men she told me she'd destroyed for the gangs using her feminine wiles.
The State Police talked little to me & refused to drop their facade in conversation when we chatted when they stood close to my cell for whatever their reason was.
I tried to escape a few times. The memories are too scrambled for the most part at the time of this writing so I'll write about one of my escape attempts that was a little better than the others.
1 time I recall I wouldn't let them drug me so the sum of the police force, Fagboy, Duh Weasel, Shortstuff, & some Jocks all came into the cell & wrestled me into submission & drugged me anew.
Another time I refused & it seemed like there were continuous witnesses. People who'd come in to report a crime. For some reason the gang were reluctant to use force on me with witnesses present.
I used my technique. Anger is the key. Grrrrrrrrr! I flexed my muscles & tried my best to burn the drugs in my system & to engage the visitors to slow down their interviews, giving me more time to shrug off the effects of the drugs.
The gang tried their tricks & I wouldn't let them drug me. When the pencil-necked 18-year-old Handlers (That's what I was told was their age) said they'd come into my cell with the... cops I told them I'd fight, through actions. Thus, the witnesses were not tipped off. They continued interviewing for crimes they reported. More people came.
The drug(s?) was wearing off. Make no mistake, I was still well-drugged, but semi-lucid. The gang became urgent, openly asking the Deputy to send the crime victims away so they could “give me my medicine”.
Me? I pointed this out to the witnesses & begged for help. The Deputy became angry. He threatened me to take the “medicine” or he'd dismiss the witnesses & give it to me. He told the witnesses to leave & they began the conversations one might expect to hear when people are leaving a jail but want to file a police report as quickly as possible. No one was happy at the prospect of coming back in a few hours.
It gets fuzzy, actually it was fuzzy, stayed fuzzy, but at least the world wasn't rippling constantly.
The Deputy walked up to the cage to force me back, the people were preparing to leave. I distracted the Deputy getting him to look behind him. Then I reached through the bars & yanked him to them with his back to me. I put a death grip on his throat with just my fingertips gouging into his throat about the voice box & grabbed his pistol which was inside of it's holster on his right side on his belt but didn't try to draw the gun. I held his pistol inside the holster, pushing down on it with all of my weight.
The 18-year-old tried to help him, but it didn't help. The short 18-year-old (he'd told me his age earlier during a conversation) first tried to help The Uniformed Munger Deputy by trying to help him lift his pistol out of it's holster but lacked the strength to lift me even with The Deputy's help. Then he lunged for my face using his long & very dangerous talons, I mean fingernails. Because he was short (maybe 4' 11" or less) he couldn't reach my face because of how big The Deputy was & the bars. So he jumped up at my face, so I leaned back & was just outside of his hopping reach. He changes sides several times prompting me to lean to the opposite sides of The Deputy to avoid his attacks. The Deputy strained to draw his pistol the whole while but couldn't overpower me with 1 hand. Me? I thought The Deputy might drop soon but was surprised at the long, long time it took to choke him out. Eventually it was clear he had 2 choices. The 1st choice was pass out from choking. The 2nd choice was to let go of the gun & overpower my single-handed grip on his throat with 2 hands while the teen raced outside to get the Jock's help.
When it became obvious he'd soon pass out The Deputy chose Option #2:. He let go of the gun to free his throat. Me? I yanked his pistol out of the holster & made my demands. Free me or I'd just start killing people.
The Deputy gasped unable to talk & gave into my demands. We exchanged places, him inside the cell, & me outside & searching for ammo or even for debris to put down the barrel to turn my new pistol into a crude shotgun because I suspected the gun likely had either mostly or entirely blanks in it (gang standard plan A:).
It gets fuzzy... after from there... but while I searched (fruitlessly) the Jock army rushed inside & I held them at gunpoint. Then I told them to get into the cell or I'd shoot them.
One of them taunted me that I should shoot, being that the gun was loaded with blanks. They laughed at me mockingly.
Me? I put on my best poker face & told them I'd just searched the desks & loaded the gun with REAL ammo. So they'd better get into the cell or I would just start shooting.
The Jock army obeyed.
Just after I slammed the cell door The Deputy regained his powers of speech. He expressed disappointment with the army. "You all know there's only one real bullet in the gun & the rest are blanks.
The Jock army countered with the fact that, they'd seen "the films" & knew I was a killer. My story of finding ammo in the drawers seemed terrifying.
At some point, It's fuzzy at the time of this writing the Secretary crossed paths with me while I searched for weapons, ammo, or anything I could use to facilitate an escape from what I suspected was an armed gang clubhouse just across the street. & I belted her, knocking her out.
As I searched my memory reset & the gang asked me if I needed help? Then they suggested that I free them. When I neared to do just that they grabbed me when I came near & I barely almost fought them off. They'd failed & would've been free in moments had they not attacked me. Another time I was searching & came too close to them & we replayed the grab battle again. Me? I told them I'd go outside, grab some gravel & explained to them that if they tried that again I'd use gravel to turn my pistol into a shotgun & cap them all one at a time to death.
They complained it'd take a long time.
I promised them death if they interfered with me again. That the time to kill them all was something I was willing to commit to. Plus, I'd have The Deputy's truck keys (which I never did get despite threats due to my reluctance to just start shooting people, even them, my kidnappers).
While I searched the Secratary gnawed at my mind. Time & again I had previous escape attempts thwarted by kidnappers waking up & attacking me or more likely, screaming for the always nearby Jock Army who would be ready to back them up in times of emergency. I wanted to throw her into the cell but the prisoners made that a non-option. The world was rippling, I was addled by drugs, I looked for anything useful but found nothing. The Secratary gnawed at my mind. I had to shut her up. Make it so she couldn't rat me out. So I grabbed her by the head & twisted her kneck with all of my llaborer might. K-K-K-KRACK! I made sure to carry through until I'd rotated her head completely backwards until it was clear the woman who'd been a solid 10 in her youth, the fading rose was now very dead.
The Deputy said. "You didn't have to kill her".
I replied. "Yes I did". She might rat me out, call the cops, or summon an army & I had no way to restrain her. Especially with the prisoners not letting me near the cell where I'd have put her.
The Deputy pointed out I was in a jail & there were literally handcuffs & leggings all around us.
I was in horror, he was right. When he tried to use a guilt trip on me to gain advantage I told him her death was all on her. When you drug a victim with dangerous mind-altering drugs you get what you get. In any other situation I might have restrained her, but because of the drugs I had a short list of options in my mind of what to do with her (paraphrasing, this is far from the actual words) & when I came to the end of the list... well... you know...
Finding almost nothing useful I left the building. I looked at the featureless Munger (?) farmland & saw it was flat & void of anywhere to hide as far as the eye could see. So I went back in to get some keys to a vehicle.
The Deputy noted I had only a single bullet & relished me coming into the cell to try & get keys. They called my bluff & refused to give me keys to any vehicle at his urging. I tried to get into the locked gun case but that would've surely took a long long time & probably wrecked any gun retrieved.
So I left & tried to hitchhike.
Time passes...
Tick tick tick...
A Marked Michigan State Police Car pulled up about a mile or 3 later & the Uniformed officer came out & held me at gunpoint. He radioed that he'd caught me & The Munger... cops said to keep me, but I wasn't guilty of what they'd said, to not arrest me themselves but keep me until they arrived.
The Munger Police arrived in force & at multiple gunpoint I was felony arrested.
The Michigan State... cop insisted on going to the Munger Police Jail with us & mocked my story of having hurt several people upon leaving the jail (both in hand to hang & with the gun).
Soooooo... we got to the Jail & an Ambulance was carting away someone on life support. I pointed out the Mungerites had said no one got hurt, he was clearly hurt badly. They lied. He agreed something wasn't right, but that was not evidence in & of itself to even slightly believe me.
Duh Jerk & the previously mentioned squad showed up, threatened me much, lamented the dead & dying & I was drugged anew & carted off. Duh Jerk laid on the threats to the 18 year old kids about to enter the prime of their lives. They'd screwed up bad. Failing to keep me drugged when they knew how dangerous I was was something they were going to regret in their coming punishment. They didn't look very happy at all & screamed threats against me based on Duh Jerk's threats.
So the obligatory “snitch” (Author Note: By now the only one's still surprised by this tactic are Bay County Law Enforcers) was sent to meet me after my release. He asked me to note how quickly I was released after the incident? He submitted it was proof it was all real when I expressed doubts. When I asked why they hadn't arrested me he said it was because there were way too many people involved that they didn't own... “yet”. Who knew how many people I'd met along the way & how many were privy to the event. So they went with the escape plan, cut me loose & covered the entire thing up. They were going to back off for a while because of this, but rest assured I hadn't seen the last of them.
If I had to guess, he was there to milk me for information on who I'd contacted & I told him nothing. Well that & of course there was a crew filming the entire conversation someplace near & an obligatory van or bus full of Jocks around the corner just out of sight in case they could provoke me I'd suppose. They probably call it? Plan A:.
So... is there a Munger Jail? Was there ever a Munger Jail? And was I ever a guest there that summer day in my mid-20s when several people died & more were severely injured?
PRACTICAL joke or was it a jail in some nearby area servicing Munger? Idano.
Maybe it was a PRACTICAL joke. In that case the joke was on the 18 year old Teens who died.
Laugh... cop. Laugh.
​
The Last Snitch brought the above incident up decades later. He said that the gang had indeed planned to legally deal away with me & submitted to me all the child-porn & animal sex acts they'd inflicted on me as proof. But they'd (Jerk & the 4 Stars) had been called away on urgent business that summer day & due to a shortage of available troops & an urgency that they leave now they chose to drop me off at one of their many safe houses/holding facilities. They liked to use a Munger Michigan Jail House theme because it kept most prisoners in line, the thought they were in a real jail & all. He said the people coming there for help were all real. The gang provides revenge services for their own profit, blackmail, & recreation & that particular spot was where it was headquartered at that time. It was also why I had no fellow prisoners. Because I told them all they weren't in a real jail. "It was a shame really. Sometimes when a prisoner acts up we use the cute secretary to get the other prisoners to help us control violent inmates". Plus, most guys wanting to escape wont attack a gorgeous woman. It helped them thwart any escape attempts.
I said she was hot, but losing her looks due to age.
He lamented I should've seen her just a few years prior, he knew her well because of his many dealings with them & she could manipulate any man with her looks & charm.
He said Duh Jerk had blackballed everyone involved for the comedy of errors that'd let me escape. That they were furious & they & their families represented an army of madmen who wanted revenge.
He did repeat himself that I was about to be killed when I'd escaped. The gang were through with me & I was about to die handcuffed in a Bay City Jail via a vigilante attack based on what the guards & cops let slip in front of my cellmates when they brought me in. A mix of easily manipulated vigilantes they'd "just happened to arrest" & a few gang regulars who had been shown enough films to make them promise to kill me for the gang.
Instead, since the entire ordeal had taken longer than 15 minutes & the woman who died was so well known inside & outside the gang & by now tons of outsiders knew about me & the goings on there, AND the unknown amount of people I'd talked to trying to escape they'd chosen to just scrap revenge against me for now. Dosed me & dropped me off at my Michigan Street home to sleep it off.
My opinion? I make it a point not to believe a single word of what any self-professed child-molester & liar for profit says. Never did. These are the clues. It's not my job to sort through the lies & it never was. A concept sure to further daze & confuse any and all mid-Michigan... cops trying to comprehend it. It's okay though, because I wasn't trying to address them. If I was I'd use lots more words with 4 or less letters in them.
True.
I'm a paragraph. Click here to add your own text and edit me. It's easy.
"When I wrote the above link it led to a website filled with exhaustive & well-researched information on the subject. Now, it's remains, much like me after an extended torture & deprivation session, are skeletal at best.
"I'm sure it's just a "coincidence". - David A. Geroge on the subject of convenient & inconvenient "coincidences"
I make no allegations about this fine establishment, but the gang have messed with me around that place for years. Note my choice of words. "around" & not "inside".
"I wonder"? - David A. Geroge 11-9-23
I'm sure it's just coincidence that the Bay City... cOPS dismissed me several times when I complained about organized crime in Bay City with sentences like this". "If what you said was true about organized crime it'd be on News 5".
A news source they generally told me they felt they could trust.
Read about the gang's opinion (as told to me by "Reliable Informants" close to the gang every bit as reliable, in my opinion, as any Bay City Michigan Law Enforcement Officer's sources) on the subject in my +1,500 page letter to the FBI where someone gets hurt or killed every few pages.
I had a few Bay City... cOPS explain the above sentence to me.
"Bay City's small size precludes the possibility of organized crime".
<<<----------------
Yeah, I prayed... a lot!
There's gonna be a jailbreak follow-up:
Decades later The Last Snitch surprised me by bringing up the death of the Secretary. Apparently, she had been very beautiful & seduced many powerful players in the gang & they'd all want revenge on me for killing her. "Even some of her former victims still love her because she was so beautiful". It had been why they'd chosen her a secretary. Picking a drop-dead gorgeous woman who was the aged category of woman I liked who was a proven seductress & manipulator. They were puzzled at why it hadn't worked?
Being on their truth drug(s?) I told him what I told her when I asked her during the conversation where she told me she could easily seduce me. "Have you looked in a mirror recently"? I could tell she'd been an absolute 10, but unlike many women drifting into their 50s the drugs & the booze was taking their toll on her. I could tell she'd been truly hot, but her looks were fading & not like other women who could've easily kept my interest into their 60s & beyond.
He agreed. "You should've seen her when she was younger". "She was the best". A tragic asset loss for the gang as a seductress as skilled as her was rare indeed. Everyone who was anyone had had her & most still loved her. Exasperated he claimed he was among them & was tempted to take revenge on me if only for the memory of the times they's shared together when he was a boy & she a vibrant beautiful older woman.
Ahhhhh... the silly subject you put up with during a kidnapping's drugged interrogation/debriefing. Right?
<<----------------------------------------
"You didn't have to kill her".
I remember standing over the Secretary I'd attacked. while the others were in the cell while she lay on the floor just outside the cell between the desk isles. I recalled gang members getting up after an attack in previous kidnappings, I hadn't finished the job. It seems like someone, one of them said something like I'd better hope they don't wake up. Or else the Deputy was going to hunt me down & kill me himself when they opened the cell door
So I killed her.
I recall the secretary who'd tried to help subdue me, the self-professed destroyer of 100s of men through blackmail & frame ups & her brags of being able to summon an army from across the street. So I twisted her neck with all my laborer might over & over.
I recall the Deputy in the cell saying. "You didn't have to kill her".
<<-------------------------- Trivia:
9-22-19 I tried to look up Munger Michigan Jail. My websearch showed no such result.
---------------------------->>>
"You'd have to be a genius Master Chemist"
The... cops dismissed me a few times back in the 80's mostly based on the drug or drugs used against me. "You'd have to be some sort of genius Master Chemist or something". They told their peers who nodded in approval.
"What is this drug"? The... cops who I'm going on record as saying they may or may not have threatened me physically armed with guns & night sticks demanded.
"I don't know".
A few told me to guess. Some demanded I guess under threat of ejection from the cOPSHOP & summary termination of any investigation.
I told them various gang bangers have whined to me over the years that the gang goes to great lengths to conceal the names of the types of drugs they use from their loyal troops & from their victims. Lest they should go into business for themselves.
Saying the above paragraph can get you ejected from many copshops.
Why'd I choose that website? "You'd have to be a genius master chemist"?
Because several... cops dismissed me outright when I discussed the gang's drug's properties. I described a category of drugs called hypnotic drugs.. Drugged victims obey their captor's every command.
Not possible the... cops tell me. You see it's because THEY have incredible willpower. Resisting a hypnotic drug, or indeed any drug sounds fairly easy to them. Thus, a victim blaming a drug for anything is just a cover for poor judgement, cowardice (on the part of the victim), or outright lies (to conceal their obvious criminal behavior, it's only logical). Simply explained it means that since they imagine themselves fighting off any & all mental-affects of any & all drugs that they project on to victims of said drugs that their experience is impossible, because. "If it was me I'd...".
Besides. "You'd have to be some sort of master chemist to do that". They told me. When considering a victim's body mass, age, possible drug resistance due to other medical factors only a trained Master Chemist could pull it off. Period!
The gang do in fact brag they have many skilled Master Chemists & Pharmacists working for them. An even more laughable possibility I'm told. Over & over.
In the website How To Avoid A Prostitute Drink Scam some common street thug (of sorts) just openly brags with impunity about the ease & versatility of her commonly used drug that would've let her rape & rob her victim for all they were worth.
Why'd I choose that area for my example? Because I've interviewed several self-professed high-ranking gang members & asked them about the drugs they used & was surprised to hear them all say even they didn't know. That their leaders supplied the drug & didn't tell them what it actually was, lest they too go into business for themselves. But they told me they'd heard about the drug's origins. Over the decades many of these "Leaders" told me the drug was discovered after World War 2 by vacationing Gang Members in South America who brought it to America. They all said it was a processed dried plant that they liked to use with a syringe. They also noted it was A GREAT DRUG IN THEIR OPINION. Versitile &easy to administer. Cheap. Victims are put into a dream-like state in which they are almaost infalibly placid, easy to handle, & will obey nearly any order. The only catch (they whined, often) is it's difficult to get people to do things that they wouldn't normally do in their dreams.
"You are a once in a lifetime Godsend". The last snitch told me. "With your nightmares there's nothing you woont do" He said with a hint of disgust. He boasted I'd commit any attrocity, kill, hurt anyone & smile on command when I did it.
I inventoried my dream-life in a moment of time & got a sick feeling in my gut at what he had said. I pictured the victims, the dead, the dying, the maimed, and those forever altered by their encounter with myself on the gang's drug(s?).
The horror...
The way... cops tell me is that "you'd have to be some sort of genius master chemist or something". It's proof I can be ignored. If it makes you feel any better they tell me they have Doctors on staff & yeah, even a few pharmacists too.
"Doctors AND pharmacists? Hey you had me until you said them both".
Hey you got me. There are probably so few Doctors & Pharmacists that are dirty around the odds of them pairing up approaches absurdity. Like finding a pink & a blue bunny in the same field right? Wait... when you look at the statistics on just how many Doctors are likely dirty they are perhaps among the most corrupt fields in the world & certainly the most killingest (whether by accident or on purpose & a gang of frame artists probably eat members of said professions alive). Food for thought. Especially when you consider logic & deduction against statistical evidence.
I apologize for using logic in a forum mid-Michigan... cops might read, I know it hurts their heads whenever one of their victims... i errr, I mean someone begging for help tries to use logic. Again... I'm sorry.
YOU'D HAVE DO BE SOME KIND OF GENIUS OR SOMETHING...
Sooooo.... when I described my situation to the Police I've met a few skeptics. One of the weirder, more popular Skeptic... cOP comebacks was the chemical logistics. Dosages? Why you'd have to be a master chemist at least to get it half right. Drugs? Sedative level drugs? Frankly the Police were all way too good at their jobs for that, no one's getting any sedatives on their watch. It's all strictly controlled & I ain't fooling anybody.
If you've read my story, or at least read more than just the headlines it's a tale about a victim & the stalking of a gang of professional blackmailing frame-artists with generation of experience drugging people & forcing them to endure "skits" on an industrial scale designed to remove them from their cash & create an army of obedient victim/members of the gang for fun & profit.
Too complex? You'd have to be a genius, a master chemist & have a team of master psychologists? Some people would disagree.
​
SKITS. IT'S HOW THE GANG GET THINGS DONE... or at least how the gang gets innocent victims to do things...
Soooo... this is how the scam works.
1st... they dope a victim up. They prefer to do it to children whom they convince parents to loan to them for a week or 2 of fun. But they primarily do it to adults, preferably going on vacation or to something where they'll not be missed for weeks.
1st the rape & torture. The gang brag most people crack right here. The gang reads them the riot act & Duh Jerk himself bragged they like to show their victim the child-porn they just starred in (though any serious crime will do) & tell them "I'll give you the film if you do us a favor". "The favor usually being attack one of our other victims who we've demonized for their sensibilities". "They we have 2 films of them. Then we make them star in child porn. Once we do that we can pretty much get them to do anything". Another once law-abiding person goes down in flames & a madman laughs his head off just like he did back then in his tax-payer funded school office during school hours back in 1976.
"Duh Jerk told me the way he beat the... cops back in 1976. "I always keep dirt on someone worse than me in case I get caught".
Soooooo you've got to ask yourself. How does he get this dirt on someone else who'll be worse than him so... cops will be begging him for the privilege of letting him go?
First let me explain this. The gang uses a drug or a cocktail of drugs to get victims into a state of mind they've trained for generations to control & manipulate. I'll repeat this later but only to hammer the point home. This is how the scam works. It's foundation.
The gang brag I'm their "Get out of jail free card". Always was. Always were.. Always will be if any Police reading this choose not to investigate what I'm saying. I've endured skit after skit after skit after skit after skit & the gang never tires of doing it. They are often themed & always well-practiced.
When I was a child vampire & werewolf themed skits were inflicted on me all the time. Often. Lots. The Last Snitch whined they'd be doing them more but unlike their other victims who recoil at the damned in their drug-induced dream-like states I take a more combative approach & their halls of the damned sets are littered with the blood of their loyal.
Second. They care little or nothing for the lives of their minions. "I don't care who gets hurt. It's how I beat the cops. The cops figure if I was a gang leader I'd care about my guys but I don't care who gets hurt". A concept sure to baffle any 100 mid-Michigan... cops I assure any readers. Bodies of their loyal guys piled like cord wood? They really don't care much. I've never met a... cop who could grasp the concept of a "victim/member". Which is exactly what Duh Jerk has bragged to me in mid-torture several times (I'd like to thank you mid-Michigan... cops for that personally). Victim/Member? In my experience Victim/Members die screaming. "BUT I'M LOYAL"! All on film.
Third. They film it all. Why? Duh Jerk explained it to me many times. "I can never be convicted as long as i film everything I do because no one would believe I would be so stupid". It works. Having seen the films many... cops have threatened me legally & illegally, kidnapped & tortured me themselves. Beat me up, held me at gunpoint, shot at me, you name it. Even when I told said... cops about the existence of the films beforehand.
Skits. First they begin with innocent interaction with a drugged victim. Then it morphs into what is usually a demented skit meant to shock the victim & keep them permanently mentally off-balance.
When a victim becomes agitated the gang usually tries to calm their drugged victim. "Calm down. You're dreaming". There's a huge pile of bodies in some madman's backyard because their loyal victim/members told me that very sentence. But that is another story.
Skits can go on for weeks until the sleep-deprived victim is put into a state of mind where they are practicing the skit over & over. Maybe it's just a family argument? Maybe a sexual deviance? Maybe it was practicing killing everyone in a 7-11 or a crowded room over 7 over for weeks? Whatever the skit is the gang has surely inflicted much evil on society in any event.
Soooo... if you're reading this maybe you'll see me at 7-11 one of these night? Maybe I'll be at your kid's school or in a mall? Does it matter if it's in a room fu;ll of bodies of people you don't know? I've had some close calls. Very close calls. Some included Fagboy and a large classroom filled with children & a hunting rifle. The children were loyal child-molestors, bit children none the less.
Lastly the gang & all the... cops I've met in life brag that to repeat any of this is to invite destruction in public at the hands of the legal system. Being that I'm no longer the victim if I repeat any of this, I'm the protagonist (bad guy if you're a mid-Michigan... cop & have read this far).
I take no delight in writing this but only in that I may be righting this, making it right, exposing the bad guys & making my country a safer place. I'd still like to salvage what's left of my health, live rape & torture free, & try to carve off a piece of the American dream with what's left of my health & life after the gang's tortures.
Thank you Sirs.
​
THOSE WERE THE GOOD OLE DAYS... FOR THE GANG, NOT ME...
Sooo there I was... looking up stuff online. The gang bragged they sold gay bondage porn of me & made cash, not much, but enough to frame me for life. Cops teased em "where is this porn" & refused to look it up. Sooooo I thought I would look up some more in the bay County Library. I hear the films of me doing so are quite damning. So it sucks to be me. Oh well.
But... while I was there I thought I'd look up clues in Boulder. Anything? Then it occurred to me that one day (written about in depth in my 1,5000 page letter to the FBI where someone dies every few pages) there just might be something on record about that bank they drugged me, tortured me for weeks, then convinced me to go into with a note & rob in the city of Boulder Colorado?
So I poked around. While checking what was then Boulder's 10 Most Wanted I saw a picture of myself there, about #5 or 7, I forget which (I was in shock). It was me standing in that black pull-over coat I killed so many people in. Presumably in the bank. Me. There. Boulder's Most Wanted. Top 10 even. Me.
So I wandered back home & pondered my next action?
I had no advice.
So I decided full disclosure was the way to go. I wrote the police of... did I say police? I meant I wrote the... cops of Boulder Colorado a letter informing them I was the man in the picture & they could come get me at their leisure & waited a few agonizing days which I suspected may be my last few days of freedom alive (the gang's stories of what they plan to do to me in communities they run in prison are very graphic, most being I'll die slowly a seep-deprived sex slave turning tricks for cigarettes in prison or even their jails, most being that is).. When that didn't happen I went back to their website only to notice my picture had been removed. It had taken every bit of internal strength I had to write that letter. & I was drained & I had no more strength left in me. I didn't pursue the subject.
Duh Jerk sent a guy to brag on the subject. He said they didn't want me going into court all aggressive & on the attack so they silenced the entire thing & now had no intention of prosecuting me. "We wont let you go into court on the offensive. When you go into court you have to be on the defensive". Rules to live by I'd suppose. I suspect the plan fools every.... cop I've ever met though in truth I never brought this up since to any Police. "With all the films we have of you playing mock bank robberies in role-playing games the cops will never believe you". Besides. He claimed many of the people in the bank were their people & that I'd been told that & that they were allegedly there with syringes in case things went wrong. That was too much information. They couldn't take the chance a few of them cracked in a police interrogation & ruined everything.
Hey... my bad right? Whatever...
​
I WAS JUST MULLING IT OVER... AGAIN... So why not share the story again???
Every now & then I re-live this tale over & over. One of the perks of being stalked by madmen in the state of Delaware I'd suppose?
Lets begin the tale after I shot my way out of the busy Detroit Warehouse in broad daylight. After I ran & ran & ran down streets & alleys & hid for a time in a dumpster. I only left it because I feared passing out in it & being crushed by an over-zealous sanitation worker in the back of their dump truck. After the marked police car pulled me over & the uniformed officer gave me an ultimatum on where I should go next... or else! I made my choice & we begin there.
Sooooo our tale begins with me on a busy street. The Police Officer told me to walk to his chosen destination for me & he'd follow, with his lights on. Sooooo with lights flashing I walked the 3 blocks through downtown Detroit spattered & dripping with blood. People noticed & a whole bunch of people brought it up as I stumbled & wobbled from side to side on my way to the destination.
We arrived. They asked me if I'd ever stayed in a homeless shelter before & I said no. We stood outside & the worker, who was reluctant to let such a bloody mess in, signed me up outside. Satisfied the... cop left. I answered the personal questions, protesting about having been kidnapped but like the officer before them they noted I was on drugs, thus a story of being drugged & kidnapped was impossible. No... they couldn't explain the blood, but if the... cop said ignore me because there were no reported attacks then ignore me they were going to do. At one point the worker excused themselves, I forget why leaving me standing outside.
A group of 3 to 5 men walked up. One of them demanded rent on behalf of the group.
Me? I put the conversation into legalese as best I could asking if this was a robbery, a criminal shakedown for money & they said it was, so I'd better pay up... now! Or they'd beat me up. We discussed it at length & I was surprized they put the shakedown openly into words over & over. I had to give them money right now or be beaten up & my belongings stolen (I had nothing, but they didn't know the contents of my pockets I'd presume).
Me? I was as scared as I was angry. I recall the twinge of regret I had when it occurred to me just how much money I'd left on the table where I'd gotten all the blood stains. In a moment of time I assessed the situation before me. I was at the tail-end of my physical & mental endurance. I'd recently pushed myself to complete exhaustion (the running + the deprivation of my tortures) & the sleep deprivation was as debilitating as the drugs that still afflicted me & I was outnumbered by what was likely a gang of pros, maybe even regulars of the gang itself. So I'll put what happened into as few words as possible for the simple among the readers (mid-Michigan... cops just might read this?). I said 3 to 5 men because 3 walked up & demanded money, & 2 joined in after I dropped the first. We fought. I won.
The police were called. They showed up with an ambulance & demanded to know who had inflicted the likely criplling injuries on several of the men.
Me? I just told the truth.
The gang? They lie lie lied. I was the aggressor.
The many witnesses backed me up when the... cops told me I was going to be arrested.
The... cops said it was like this. They didn't buy that I attacked 5 men. Nor did they buy the gang's story. So they cleaned up the wounded, & sent those that could walk away. Then sent me inside after much pleading by myself. The workers in the shelter told the... cops they wanted no part of me, my bloody mess, or my body count. But I convinced them to let me stay.
I recall (through the drug-induced haze,) a black man in the crowd mercilessly teasing my attackers. Both the guys standing around & the men being loaded into separate ambulances. "I told you guys one of these days you were going to mess with the wrong guy"! They laughed & mercilessly teased the Detroit... cops who I'd deduced were clearly dirty (a dozen witnesses in a clear cut criminal shakedown for money & all the... cops did was threaten me? Can you say DIR-TY?)
The leader threatened them saying they'd better shut up, I likely wouldn't be there forever & when I was gone they were going to look their taunters up.
Me? Just to irritate him I told them I was thinking of living on there, & I'd likely be there a long while & this wasn't over.
The leader actually whimpered openly as the last of his guys was loaded in to the ambulance & left. Winning my argument with the shelter workers that none of what happened was my fault I went inside & was assigned a bed. Just what you want to hear if you're a victim of a sleep-deprivation torture (translates to the word "gobblygook" in mid-Michigan "copspeak", I cant hold it against them. Sleep-deprivation is way more than 4 letters AND a hyphenated word, far to complex for mid-Michigan law-enforcers to comprehend, I should'a said "bad men no let me nappy nap time" for the... cops, my bad).)
Sleep... Oh blessed sleep. It quickly overtook me.
In minutes I was poked awake.
I went back to sleep.
In minutes I was poked awake.
I went back to sleep.
In minutes I was poked awake.
I went back to sleep.
In minutes I was poked awake.
I went back to sleep.
In minutes I was poked awake.
I went back to sleep.
In minutes I was poked awake, even hit... hard!
I noticed a pattern. They were keeping me awake. Just like before in my cell. The gang will let you sleepsleep,but brag they wont let you sleep long
school privilege [sko͞ol] [ˈpriv(ə)lij] anyone hiding behind working in a school as a cover for involvement in organized crime. example: By working at the school our dirty school councilor was able to convince the... cops his involvement in the crime was purely professional & he got away with the murders.
------------------------------------------->>>
A... cop argument was that I had been too disrespectful during my interrogation. They knew, oh just knew that they knew that I was lying based on me being respectful, especially when they dismissed everything I had to say. If I had been telling the truth I would've acted up more or become violent.
I pointed to the bodies and asked if THAT was violent enough?
Apparently not?
IT'S ALL ABOUT LEVERAGE... Or so they brag... often...
Soooo... picture me butt up, strapped to a table with my pants around my ankles. It happens quite often ever since I was a month or 2 old. The... cops think the entire subject is just hilarious. Trust me. Or should I say, trust them. Trust them laughing... cops with the safety of YOUR children, trust them with YOUR kid's anatomical bits. I mean it. Call up Bay County, Saginaw County, & Midland County, the 3 tiers of the Saginaw Valley... cop protection raquet, & tell them YOU trust them & that YOU want them to protect YOUR children just like you imagine they protected me. You want THEM in YOUR kid's schools, that you want them to come & show YOUR Police Officers how to dispense "Bay City Justice". I mean, if what they say is true, then what have you or YOUR kids have to worry about? Right?
The gang has bragged, on countless occasions when I asked why they were doing this to me? That it was business. You see Reader each gang Chapter picks a single victim & frames them out of all proportion to all others. No expense is spared. Candidates being almost exclusively chosen from the children of gang-loyal families who are horrifically blackmailed by the gang & dare not even say a stray word against them.
"It's all about leveraging your case into making us above the law". The theory is that the gang whittle me down over time (I'm in a lot of pain now as of March 2022) & prosecute me in either some mundane way or provoke me (after thousands of provocations, they ain't slowing down) into violence (their gold standard, dream of dreams, Holy Grail of all charges IF they could get me to commit violence in one of their many, many provocations they regularly stage against me).
Then they "take me down". How, with what blackmail films? "It depends on what the cops are looking for. Then we'll send in our films proving their pet conclusions". Game! Set! Match. Fair enough. Maybe you don't like me, maybe you don't like the way I handled Provocation # 1,236 on Page Whatever & you'd like to see me face vigilante justice? Maybe you're just dirty & the money will sound great? It doesn't matter because YOU were the real target from day 1. Me? I was likely doomed from day 1.
Whatever your reason is lets say that you let them walk. That means as a law-enforcer that YOU sign onto a lot of things. You admit publicly that the gang doesn't exist or that they would never do that. You testify that I'm the bad see. YOU have to show up to hearings over the years, make statements, take down guys that they can make pop up any time they want. You'll be suppressing evidence, witnesses, & even if you're their #1 most loyal Dirty... cop they tell me they're afraid that YOU just might hear things that they don't want anyone to know.
The problem, for you, your family, your peers, & your kids is that once you sign off on the gang they are free to re-enter your life whenever they want. Do you really think anyone's going to listen to your accusations about a gang that YOU swore doesn't exist & that they are attacking you & yours? Probably not with the heat they'll be pouring on in the other parts of your life. Probably not when they send 20 "snitches" who all seem unrelated but have the same story of YOUR corruption.
You take me down & it's just one guy. Maybe you can sleep at night with that. Fair enough. I wonder if you can sleep at night knowing about all the children who died & knowing about all the new children who will die at their now "above the law because of YOU status"? Think that you'll be able to look in the mirror after every time you pass the Missing Children Board?
The Biblical End Times are coming soon. When you stand before God & it's pointed out that you & your team had a real chance to take down a gang of the worst of the worst by pursuing my case what side of the story are you going to be on? The dirty... cop who's money means nothing in Hell? Or are you going to be the team who took down & removed a great evil from the face of the earth, regardless of the cost? It's your call but don't whine to me about your choice.
PS: I talked to a zillion... cops who told me that they figured they'd get into Heaven by having their good outweigh their bad. This is not true. See: John 3: 16. But to those who have some desire to have their good outweigh their bad I ask you to consider my case? When you get to Judgement Day & they note the great evil that beset me and ask YOU why YOU didn't do something about it on that day ALL the gang's evil deeds that YOU knowingly let slide will be added to YOUR account. If Jesus doesn't pay for your sins as YOUR personal savior then YOU will pay the price right beside the gang. Imagine this, if even 1/100th of what I say is true then that's probably a Hell & a Lake of Fire a lot hotter than you'd like to spend time in, forever! I submit for your approval this, what good deeds could you possibly do to make up for even a tiny fraction of what they do as "just another day at the office"? I warned you.
TRIVIA: Reports from gang bangers tell me that Duh Jerk's "type" (the kind of guys/children he's into) is about 5'tall with blonde to light brown hair.
Oddly enough a perfect description of myself in fall of 1976, during "The Gym".
I was impressed (by impressed I mean saddened & grossed-out) when Duh Jerk sent a child to me during the height of The Gym to tell me he'd fallen in love with me.
wont let you sleep long enough to enter REM sleep. All part of their plan. It makes victims particularly pliable on their drug(s?) A thing a thousand films will likely prove, even this very week days ago as of when I wrote this on 11-19-19.
My fellow life travelers, the people in the many beds of the shelter protested. I was keeping them up. They demanded I be ejected.
I protested & my attackers promised they'd leave me alone.
I went back to sleep. Easy with the exhaustion that plagued my very being body, soul, & spirit.
In minutes I was poked awake.
I protested.
My fellow travelers, the people around me protested. I should be ejected for disturbing their peace.
The staff agreed to give me a chance.
I went back to sleep.
I was hit. HARD! WHACK! By the time I looked I could tell where it came from after the 3rd or 4th time. Everyone was very short with me & as I assesed the situation I figured the gang & or a team of dirty... cops were just waiting for me to be booted outside with "this" as my story of where I'd come from before what they were planning to do to me next. I could already almost hear the... cops laughing. I figured I had 2 choices. 1 start fighting. The fuse was lit & I was 1 poke from an explosion. Or 2. Try to get people on my side. I protested I wasn't waking everyone up for fun but being attacked by guys, So I suggested that since people couldn't sleep anyway that they watch me & report who's doing the attacks on me so they could sleep.
I went pack to sleep. Yes I was that exhausted & was out in seconds.
WHAM! Attacked again.
This time lots of people saw the guys involved. The staff ordered us all ejected for fighting but I convinced them to let me stay as I was the victim of their unprovoked attacks. The staff bought it I I went back to sleep.
Sleep... oh blessed sleep. I slept...
It was a dreamless but otherwise restful sleep.
I wok just as they were kicking everyone out for the day. The staff said I seemed so bad off they'd decided to let me sleep during the day there. But only on 1 condition. I'd ruined my bed & bedding which were soked in blood. I had to shower as a condition for staying. Now!
So I showered.
When I got out my clothing was stolen.
At 1st they said I would have to leave in a blanket, but found some green plaid pants 2 sizes too small & a t-shirt for me. So I put them on & went to bed.
A staff member started cleaning the room & bumped me several times, waking me enough that I knew what was up. I told him not to ever bump me again... or else. He never bumped me again.
I woke to a Detroit... cop telling me to get up. Duh Jerk, Dirty. Cop, Fagboy, Shortstuff, & Duh Weasel were all there with a few assorted... Jocks who were about my size & strange only in that they were racially diverse. Strange in that it's almost always Caucasians whenever Duh Jerk is involved. I was being arrested. They wanted me to pack up my stuff & prepare to leave.
The Stars & their Jocks surrounded me smiling. They bragged about my coming torture session. Which could begin now or after they convinced me to attack them for the... cops.
Me? I checked all the exits & they were all chained locked & padlocked. There was no escape.
The staff summoned the Detroit... cop to the front desk. When Dirty Cop went so did Jerk & the Stars leaving their Jocks to watch me.
Me? I chatted on the immorality of their business (like normal actually) & they told me the usual. They liked their job, kidnapping & torturing people was a fun job & they intended to do it for life. Then they spread out to keep me in the back room while their bosses chatted.
Me? I checked for an exit in the shower room. Actually a room with a single hastily installed prefab shower in it If I remember correctly.
One of the jocks, about my height & build, maybe I had a few inched on him & that meant a few pounds. African-American, in his 30s came walking in. We continued the conversation. I recall him answering my philosophical questions. Yes he liked kidnapping. Yes he'd killed lots of people for the gang. Tortured many to death & he liked it. He planned on doing it for life & when I asked he bragged he was 2nd Gen, his parents having got him into the biz & supporting his career 100%. A career they too indulged in & lived to love, or loved to live. I was just next on the list & he was really going to enjoy torturing me, especially after the films he'd been show.
When he'd bragged about child-molesting, about killing for recreation & profit something stirred inside me. GRRRRRRRRRRR! In a moment of time I made my decision for the rest of his life.
I focused my eyes behind him & said something like I wasn't going with them or their badges (which is not what I said, it's called paraphrasing, look it up).
He turned & looked behind him.
I grabbed him from behind in a headlock, muzzled him & slammed him into the shower. I figured since it was still wet that if I could leverage my legs against the sides of the shower he couldn't escape.
I was right. Once I had my legs horizontal & against the shower walls there was no escape & I choked him out while the gang & several uniformed police all chatted mere feet away.
Eventually he quit struggling. So I dropped his body & twisted on his neck with all my might over & over & over & over & over & over until I was convinced he was dead or dying.
Then I walked out to be arrested by the police.
They called out my name & the name of Duh Jerk & a few others on the radio.
One of his guys kept saying. "I gotta tell you something". He was quite urgent, seemed alarmed in my opinion.
Duh Jerk kept telling him to shut up. In the end telling him to shut up or be punished.
The... cops talked about my arrest on "suspicion" of some unspecified crime. Then there was a lull in the conversation.
Duh Jerk leaned over & asked his guy what was so important?
I saw Duh Jerk's eyes bulge out! He was clearly alarmed.
The memory starts breaking up here.
Duh Jerk told his Jock he'd be punished for not saying something earlier. The news was too important to let a routine hush command stop him from relaying.
The Jock protested. "But you said "unquestioning obedience". He whined.
Duh Jerk said that mattered not.The news was too important & now he'd be punished.
The Stars were worried at this & I saw their eyes bulge at the news too.
I recall being arrested as the memory completely breaks up.
Later I marveled at my release. A guy was sent. He said the gang was going to just do away with me but I'd killed the Jock... on film & only the cameraman knew about it. The edited films of us interacting at the rape parties, during torture, & during the end of his life were particularity damning he said, especially when combined with the recent films of me being taken from white supremacist to racist to whackado meetings all sorts combined & edited in. They've even bragged on edited footage added from Role-Playing Games I ran where it was my duty as leader to assume the role of various bad guys & notorious sorts verbally. I hear it's all quite convincing.
Why'd I play them RPGs if I knew the gang bragged they filmed them often & added edited bits to their films of me? Because as a child I'd read many psychologists used role-playing to hep victims of extreme abuse recover & having been pushed to the edge of madness & back so many times the number escaped me I felt the need to try anything to keep me from snapping, plus it was sorta fun.
Bodies everywhere? A shootout in the crowded street in front of a warehouse in a residential district?
Only a while ago during a debriefing by the gang Duh Jerk wanted me to know the gang has big plans for this particular tale. Of course they'd come at me in the end with a racially diverse gang of expendable Jocks. There were just way too many loose ends & it required some serious frame-job just to make sure. They bragged of course the men were ordered to provoke me. Anything to get me attacking people of another race to supplement their racist frame-job against me. (Author Note: They brag they got some really great footage in my life, lots). That they'd sent the black man in to be attacked on film & his death was just a happy bonus that gave them a film to motivate any number of African-Americans he wanted to attack me for life when combined with the rest of his films or separately I'd suppose? They had big plans for the guy & his loyal family knew all about me & couldn't wait to have their day in court pointing a finger accusing me based on all the rape films & interaction films they had of us. Game. Set. Match.
I guess it's nice to know people care?
Help me? Please?
THE LAST I HEARD FROM... "THE LAST SNITCH"... I give 50/50% odds it wasn't choreography, more or less, mostly more...
Soooooo here's a tidbit I DIDN'T add (to my recollection at this time) in my 1,500+ page letter to the FBI where someone dies every few pages (a letter they still have NOT publicly acknowledged nor tried to contact me nor interact in any way with me whatsoever).
Soooooooooo there I was, chatting with The Last Snitch, alt. nickname "The Vice-Principal", a diminutive man with brown to light hair, 5'1"-5'3" with a slender but not scrawny build. Likely 5 to 8 years younger than I. He was discussing me, & the gang using the gang's newest briefing style.
In the past a "snitch" was sent from time to time to debrief me, & not just me but some, mos, or even all the gang's many victims. Victims, such as I, are presumably followed & approached when they are alone. They chit chat with victims, find out what they know & try to build a rapport , maybe even a friendship. This is an information gathering mission, finding out what the victim knows. Especially concerning PRACTICAL jokes so the gang can then influence their victims based on what they think or know, gather information on possible traitors (especially if a victim "knows too much") & a host of other reasons apparent to the wise I'd suppose. In the past after a given debrief, I waited until the "snitch" left (lest I be called a coward by witnesses) I picked a random direction & took off running. I'm surprised to be able to claim better than 50/50% odds that I come upon a marked police car with a uniformed officer inside (I often recognized), a van loaded to the gills with Jocks (all about age 18 or so), & an ambulance within a block.
The latest debriefing technique involves repeated questioning while drugged & tied down laying on my back blindfolded. They ask questions on truth drug(s?) as they wear off & not any answers & conversation. Cutting out the need for a "snitch" middleman who obviously took a long time to train, brief, & then debrief & almost certainly represents a hazard to their ongoing operations as it was just one more guy who "knew too much" for them to get rid of later I'd guess? Instead of filming it from a distance Guys like Duh Jerk were free to stand there & have someone else ask questions. Presumably to give them deniability (in lots of creative ways I'd guess).
We were chatting, I forget specifically what about, I think it was just a general fact-finding mission myself. where we chatted about the Doctor with all the Sarin Gas in his basement, The Anthrax Letters & how the incidents occurred withing a year or 2 of when they got me to think them scenarios up, on film. Same old, same old. Yawn.
Only difference was I shared with him my inflections based on body language, subtil clues, & hunches. Outright I accused The Last Snitch of having killed the Doctor with the Sarin Gas in his basement.
How'd I figure that he asked?
Just a hunch. The ways he said it sickened him, his threats, just his tone. I bet that the man's wife & any men tasked with guarding the situation & the chemical procurers would back up the story. Then I noted the Anthrax Letter guy had died too (true? Idano... true only in that I said it maybe) & accused him of killing that man too. Then at the command of who knows who I began to divulge how I imagined one could prove my point.
An argument erupted! Not with me.
Eventually I was untied & the giant Jocks prepared drugging me & carrying me off. Duh Jerk & The Vice Principal were locked in a face to face finger pointing heated argument. The memory is already breaking up.
I give 50/50% odds at best that it wasn't just bad theater.
I always thought the timing of those incidents was "convenient". I mentioned the Sarin Gas & the Anthrax letter attacks in over the next 2 years they materialized & then The Last Snitch tells me he, they were involved? I'll say it again.... "convenient".
Duh Jerk asked me, while I was doped up. "If you went to war against America how would you do it".? If I was so inclined. For the record I am not & never was.
So I told him, recorded elsewhere.
Imagine my surprise when later 2 of my gamers asked me that same question.
War, the historical, present, & future has always been a hobby of mine & I know a lot about N.B.C. Warfare. So I told them.
I never saw The Last Snitch again. That fact in & of itself proves nothing, the gang are "primarily actors" & a graceful exit stage right is Plan A whenever you deal with them.
Still...
​
FACT: I discussed making the Sarin Gas & the Anthrax Envelopes with Duh Jerk & a year later the Dr. had a basement full of Sarin Gas & the next year the man prepared Anthrax Envelopes underwater in an aquarium just as I'd described to Duh Jerk & the gang took credit for both attacks saying they'd been failed attempts to frame me that had popped off early & gone badly.
"Standard plan is to go with the escape plan if even one thing goes wrong". Duh Jerk told me, there in his taxpayer-funded office in fall 1976 when he tried to recruit me all his plans must go flawlessly, perfect. If even one thing goes wrong there is nothing left to chance. They go with the escape plan.
My opinion? The timing of the back to back attacks on honest law-abiding America was "convenient". It merits at least a single eyebrow raise by law-enforcement in my opinion. Especially once my story begins to be proven reliable time & again once investigators begin to look into it. The gang has it's films & all I have is the truth. They say the truth shall set you free.
​
“And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.”
​
THE VOICE OF GOD... and other technologies the gang brag it uses on ALL it's victims... including me...
Soooooooo... there I was in my place in Melvindale Michigan when I started to hear these voices in my head. Man, I've been hit in the head a whooooooooooooooole lot, so I figured it was about that time. The beginning of "the end" for me. Likely a gradual descent into dementia & madness. I hear some people make the transition & end their days with a child-like innocence as simpletons entirely dependent on others til "the end. For the rest I hear it's often a horrible descent into madness filled with psychotic episodes, rants, & escalating to violence where said victims are cared for by society primarily by locking them up & or doping them up until they no longer present a threat to polite society. Being about age 23ish it wasn't a fun memory.
Of course I recalled the mercury poisonings of the gang as a 13 year old & pondered the very real possibility this was another such poisoning or perhaps an even worse drug(s?). Maybe my "number" had just come up & then atheist me had lost life's lottery? I had no idea so I decided to go on & take life 1 day at a time.
A recent mysterious "explosion" at work, people around me being attacked, kidnappings, the stress of recent previous kidnapping/tortures, the everyday stress of work, & chronic pain.
Then... it happened. The voices...
Describe them? Sure, why not? As if 1 more tale would set me free & of all of them I've told I suspect this could be the most damning... against me. Problem is they say "the truth shall set you free. So here's the truth. Pay attention please?
Describe'em. SUre, they were always violent. The continuous sound of someone banging away on a gong. BONG! BONG! BONG! BONG! "KILL HIM"! Or "KILL HER"! BONG! BONG! BONG! You want to kill people! KILL! KILL! KILL THEM! BONG! BONG BONG! Every now & then it was conversation. All about killing the person I was with or killing the people around me or committing mass-murder. Sometimes on a small scale, just a few people. Revenge mostly. Other times it was go hunt down people. Recreationally or for revenge.& alternated between those who'd committed perceived slights to the worst of my enemies. "KILL THEM! GO HUNT THEM DOWN & KILL THEM"! BONG! BONG! BONG!
Other times it was entirely sinister. Evil on an epic on epic scale. How to do it, where to do it, & how to do it with taking down as many people as possible. With my knowledge of NBC warfare & building on the conversation it was about epic mass-murder. Kill thousands, maybe even millions & how to do it either sneakily or openly,. "KILL THEM! KILL THEM ALL! BONG! BONG! BONG! BONG! All day, all night...
Sigh...
I wont go into the "kill thousands or kill millions " here but it's easier than most people thing, especially in the late 80's early 90's.
Sigh...
I thought about going to a medical professional but imagined they'd lock me up in a hole so dark I'd never see the light of day again ever & certainly lose my mind (bear with me here) to the vast variety of mind-altering drugs modern science inflicts on it's victims. I base this not on any rants or prejudices but on statistical data that since medicine started using world-wide mind-altering drugs in mental health they have seen little or no improvement in curing their victims & yet comfortably inflict a lifetime of drugs on said victims. When compared to the statistical evidence for the case of "tough it out & cure thy self" the entire idea seemed ludicrous & dangerous at best, so I never contacted a mental health professional & never ever did (despite what medical records are likely inflicted upon me by dirty doctors & a loyal child-molesting family willing to back their testimony 100%. On top of all this... my enemies have "the films".
Sigh...
My Detroit boss in the Foundry kidnapped me for a weekend so I decided to just blow off Detroit & the great job I had there. So I crawled back to Bay City.
BONG! BONG! BONG! KILL HIM! KILL HER! POISON THE GREAT LAKES! BREAK INTO A NUCLEAR POWER PLANT! KILL! KILL! BONG! BONG! BONG! Day after day, night after night...
Me? I'd been undergoing a personal exploration as of late. Religion.Politics. Philosophy. And lots of Role-Playing Games.
You're probably wondering Reader Role-Playing Games? Yeah, it was researching medical treatments as a child for my stress continued. I noted many mental health professionals used role-playing to help their patients. You're probably thinking 'if you're so smart, physician heal thyself". So I tried. I dove into role-playing games some enlightening, some sinister upon sinister. I was in charge, the Referee, the D.M., the Leader, call it what you will, I was in charge.
Did the games help?
Sure did. Some. I smoked a lot of pot to numb the chronic pain & dull the voices. The pot helped neither actually, but it made me not care about anything. Thus I drifted about my day, trying to discover myself & the universe between baking sessions.
Make a long story short? Okay. I got God into my heart & the voices soon stopped. At that time I'd told no one. No one any of this. Zip. Zilch. Nada. Not a one.
Duh Jerk's Lt. came by & told me the entire thing had been one massive drug trip. The gang had spared no expense drugging my food & water & the mind-altering drugs had certainly affected me. They did it for a few years but it didn't seem to bug me much so they quit. He told me they knew about the voices from my own descriptions during drugged debriefings where they frequently questioned me about my well-being, my state, & meticulously about every aspect of my life. Always probing for any weakness they could pounce on. ""Don't flatter yourself. We do tat to all our victims". The poor unfortunate souls who don't just give in, give up, or get their crimes discovered.
I told him I knew they knew I smoked pot. Why not bust me?
He said the gang usually uses it's dirty cops to frame victims as a matter of business. "But not with you because of The Gym. Your bust has to be flawless and with an honest cop". Usually, he or many snitches pointed out. I was being pulled over by the police regularly my entire life & he asked me to note that when they had they often had drug dogs & those drug dogs often went nuts at my presence. Barking insanely. "We like to sew drugs into your clothes". Rolls of heroin, pages of LSD, exotic & designer drugs have been quoted. You Police know the type, the kinds of drugs where mini-amounts can net victims a lifetime of prison.
Changing the subject for a second, I watched real life cop shows where people got pulled over & the Police found drugs on them. The 1st thing most said was. "That's not mine". I later marveled at how many reversed themselves minutes later but ponder their accusation. That I'd be found with enough drugs for a lifetime conviction & with child-porn starring myself. What Police Officer will be inclined to give me half a chance?
AUTHOR NOTE: I don't drink, don't smoke, don't do drugs. Been clean 7-8 years now. "We'll just say you must've fallen off the wagon". Easy to prove with their films of me. Even today 3-15-20 I recall several drugged, likely filmed encounters where they got me to voluntarily do drugs while on their drug(s?). Alllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll on film & waiting for "the camera never lies crowd" at the Copshop.
Soooooo... we all recall my encounter with the setup, the PRACTICAL joke of meeting Mass Murder Chick. The PRACTICAL joke where they pretended to get me to kill The Little Rich Girl from Boulder. So The Last Snitch meets me again. This time he wants to correct himself out of the goodness of his heart. I hadn't been drugged to hear the voices. The gang had a stolen Top Secret device called "The Voice of God Machine".
Being I was his captive audience I listened in.
He said it was a device that spoke directly to a target's thoughts. Most people assumed it was their own thoughts or, if the device user wanted to, the user could even impersonate dead relatives of the victim or even claim to be God. They were able to get just about anyone to do anything. Especially the weak-willed. While I was in "mid-you're-a -liar" (force of habit on my part, my bad Reader) he added. "You should be flattered. You were one of the 1st people we used it against". He said it didn't seem to work so they quit. Happy at it's success. He submitted as proof that everyone around me & my games fell into drunkenness or drugs, lost their jobs, ruined their relationships, committed suicide, & that even I'd been mentally wounded by the event. It was here that he 1st said he was part of the Law Enforcement gang that took down & owned Timothy McVeigh.
Yeah, as if I was stupid enough to repeat any of this to the... cops. It all sounded silly to me. Impossible when considering the present state of our technology & the pure raw computing power of the human mind.
Imagine my surprise when I later found out the USA had used the Voice of God Machine during Operation: Desert storm. The US Intel agencies had spoken directly to the minds of the Iraqi troops & convinced them God was ordering them to surrender & they surrendered in massive, never seen before waves.
It made me reconsider the rants of a self-professed technology thief & his child porn blackmailing gang.
The following is science.
Lets entertain the thought they told the truth about said device. I suspect it has operating modes, I've seen them published online. There are even apps to use a cell phone to do it with specific frequencies. Since the 70's it was possible to buy a computer interface device to interface with computers from a distance, even if they were shut off. I suspect the operating modes of said device parallel the Voice of God Machine in many ways.
He told me they'd use the device in court against me by using it on the judge & the jury, particularly if by some impossible chance that my case should ever come to trial before an honest Judge or Jury. Especially when it was my lawyer's turn forcing a state of doubt on the jury & those present. He went on to add in the even simpler electronic devices known by the Intelligence Community to influence certain emotions via radio waves. He bragged that to even mention or repeat his words would make his victim's stories unbelievable to the... cops who'd never believe that a smart criminal might embrace high-end technology when committing crimes.
Me? I wonder? Especially since I know they've been using an inner ear microphone on me. I hear it beep & such. Mechanical tones occasionally. Occasional shouts, weird noises. Last night it acted like a powerful hearing aid of sorts (2-1-22) & I could hear the people next to me breathing & their every footfall. What the exact nature of their device is Idano? I only know that if a victim is given half a chance to prove themselves by a Good Police Officer & an electrician it'd be easy to prove or disprove. Especially if a skilled agent considered the general E.M. environment around me. Who's transmitting to what? What wavelengths? Why?
Know this, I've researched the subject & it is like unto what the gang has bragged. Anyone claiming to have technology embracing stalkers can & is dismissed by law enforcement. Period! Also know that many have allegedly come forward with the very technology & devices I've described. I say allegedly because like the boasts the reports I've read all say that Government Agencies with powerful badges swoop in, seize all the tech, & leave the... cops & their victims with impossible to prove Ludacris stories. My point being that if a good but healthily skeptical Officer or Agent should read this then they should begin any investigation by seeking the authority to keep such evidence from those who would seize it & prosecute those who use it. I'll also note if you don't, if you let the gang seize your evidence with powerful corrupt badges you'll likely make their "list". Think about it? Who do you think the recruiters I make possible go after? Good cops? Yeah, but they like to begin it by stabbing their credibility. By thrusting themselves into their lives. By prying their way into you life. They look for the weak. If you should fail against me, especially with the plethora of evidence & advice I've given you will seem weak to them. Who better to go after next than the... cop who just testified in court that they have no proof of any devices, that they cant prove their points because all their evidence didn't withstand cross-examination because they didn't double & triple check everything from independent sources. If you're reading this & fail to heed my warnings & take my advice the gang brag that it isn't me, but you are next. By you I mean any "unowned" Police or Law Enforcement Officer reading this. You are the real target. You always were.
Me? They boast the Voice of God Machine can have a impact on a person, especially when they know where they will be lying their head. Such as my coming prison bunk where I'll be forced to lay with my head in a precise location. That & the high tech RFID stuff behind the eyes & the device they described as a rotary drug dispenser that allows them to drug me with any number of drugs using a cell phone to facilitate kidnapping me. Just dial, select a drug from a list of drugs proven to be effective against me, then pick me up at their leisure.
What hope is there for me.? Sure there are rape gangs, I'll bet there's not a cop out there who wont agree with that. But a 21st century technology rape gang? Not in their world. "Yeah, it's all possible. But no one would do that".
I ain't saying ANYTHING they say is true. Problem is I find myself in the position of begging police to save me from a high-tech gang. Can you guys give me half a chance? Please? How about doing it in a sneaky way that gives me a chance against their high-tech devices, if any exist.
Please?
Problemisms of my life, Sigh...
​
EPILOGUE...
"You got lucky. You were one of the 1st people we started using that gizmo [the voice of God machine] against when we got it & we were very heavy-handed when we used it against you. You got lucky because now we're much more subtle about using it nowadays. We still use it on you but you seem, unusually resistant to it". - The Last Snitch. He went on to brag they used it primarily on rich & well-to-do people. Convincing them that they are God & talking to them directly. Getting them to simply hand over huge fortunes, make political deals, go here & do this, go there & do that. He bragged they use it in court now as a matter of business. That I wouldn't stand a chance with them whispering directly into the minds of the jury.
Sooooooo.... is this just "Americana"? Do threats like this happen all the time? I have nothing to compare it to.
He boasted (probably rightfully so) that to even repeat it would be enough to destroy me. Because no madman would even dare to dream to lie or do thusly to anyone.
As if the vast warehouse of films & willing co-conspirators weren't enough.
Personally? I think he was there to pick my brain & try to figure out a strategy that might make using their gizmo even more effective against me. Just a guess though. Just a guess... Just a guess of a man sitting in a pool of his own bile at a desk 3 days after the last sodomy session. A man with a wet posterior...
Sigh...
<<<-------------------------
Years later the gang bragged as soon as they'd heard my name on the police scanner they rushed over to the scene & filmed it all. Now it's edited bits made for very damning films against me.
He claimed they'd recruited the attackers outside the shelter & now they would say stories advantageous to the gang as revenge against me.
I teased back that I'd bet they all had records dating far back that by themselves would corroborate my story. The Last Snitch was NOT amused.
They boast they have films of me at Klan Rallies, Neo-Nadzi parades, Communist meetings, annual attendance at N.A.M.B.L.A. meetings complete with a verifiable & life long membership, the young Republicans, the left, the right, the center, envirowhackos, you name it.
I had to ask why (so did a few... cops, very, very few)?
Card-carrying gang bangers told me it's a fairly standard tactic against their victims. It's done so that they can research the pet peeves & sensibilities of a given person they want to influence & have a prepared film & evidence to make them rally against the gang's victims.
Duh Jerk put it much more simply. "Because of "The Gym". & "I want the whole world to hate you as much as I do".
<<<----------------
Yeah, I prayed... a lot!
"I know those guys. They're nice guys".
THE GYM. WHAT WENT ON IN THE GYM...
Here I will describe "The Gym" in as few words as possible.
In the Gym, before, during & after I did a whole lot of praying & to God be the glory for my survival as it was he who gave me the wisdom & strength to live & endure it.
The Gym was an ongoing attempted murder that evolved from very little into something huge.
1st... Consider what I call "The ordeal in the back hall" at my Mother's Parent's house. For nearly a decade I was expected to walk back & forth up to 8 hours a day, 3-5 days a week, about 9 months out of the year & block the attacks of multiple attackers. 1st it was 2-3 people, men & boys, on each side. I was attacked by 2, then expected to walk across the hall & would there be attacked by 3, each delivering a single blow. 8 hours. They got a 15-minute break every 2 hours & an hour-long lunch break. Every now & then I too received an hour lunch break, but only now & again.
8 hours a day.
8 HOURS A DAY!
8 HOURS A DAY!
Some days they brought in what I'll call (not them, I'LL CALL) switch hitters. Guests who joined in. I might be attacked by 5 on one side & 3 on the other. Day after day after day after day after day after day after...
This was my life from about age 3 to age 9 in 1974. Pain... lots of pain.
It was the fall of 1976 & I had decided to change my life over the summer. You see reader, in the past, I might bathe 1 or 2 times a year. But no longer. I wore dirty clothes encrusted with dirt & blood for months at a time & no one cared. But no longer. I decided to clean my act up. I'd acquired fine clothes over the summer, silk attire & was the only kid in school allowed to wear sunglasses because of a medical condition.
I also decided that this would be my year. No one was hitting me anymore. Least of all the organized crime gang who dominated my classroom.
Day one.... 1st period the Gym Teacher announced we would learn to dance. All the boys in the class refused. All. A quantity of 100%. An entirety. The sum total.
In time the gang leaders that ran my class ordered their loyal troops to begin injuring my fellow students under the guise of playing floor hockey. Armed with sticks they began delivering injuries as a team of 5 who worked in shifts with regular breaks.
The boys refused to dance. Minor injuries piled up, making the room's children look more & more like a war zone. A cast here, a splint there. The attacks were random. When I asked the attackers they bragged they really didn't care who got hurt. Their orders were to hurt their fellow classmates until some boy danced. That defying the Bosses orders to dance had to be punished.
Me? I pointed out that I alone in the class of +60 students was not in the gang. Thus the Bosses orders did not apply to me.
The attacking gangbangers told me, en mass, that they didn't care who got hurt & in my opinion their attacks were more like attacks of opportunity. They played the aggressive sports & injured the next available target that was easiest. Yeah, they attacked me too. How'd I respond? I responded by blocking & dodging. Nothing more.
One day the gang began to become more selective. They chose targets & then pressured the student to dance or be injured. My fellow student males refused & then the taget was attacked in passing until they were injured. At which point they were sidelined with what was usually minor injuries. Eventually it was I who became their target. So you know what I did reader? I blocked & I dodged their casual attacks of opportunity. Frankly in my opinion the level of violence didn't even rate a single Pom Pom game on the cement parking lot in it's batlle intensity. I avoided their attacks for about an hour with breaks inbetween. Recap: About an hour. In a way, it was easy when compared to "The Ordeal in the Back Hall". I blocked. I dodged.
It escalated. The attackers complained to me en-mass in the hallway after class the next few days. They claimed the little girl whores of our class teased the gang's hitmen. "You guys must be real wimps if you can't beat up the school wimp". Yeah... the school wimp. A title I'd enjoyed. Me. The kid my family ensured anyone anywhere could hit whenever they wanted up & until this very day 2-1-22 through their words & deeds.
These attacks repeated daily & increased in intensity. Every single weekday. What did I do? I blocked. I dodged. They attacked me hour-long & as a team using deadly weapons & I blocked. Nothing fancy. I blocked. I dodged. I blocked. And I blocked some more.
Then one day about a dozen of them came to me lead by Fagboy in the hallway outside the school CAFATERIA after our 1st period gym class.. They blocked off the hallway in front of me & let my fellow students pass. Since I had no intention of coming within arm's reach of their combined army I just stood there, dressed in silk. They announced to me their intention to kill me for all the embarrassment that I'd caused them. The Bosses were watching & the Lil whores were teasing them thusly. "You guys must be really wimpy if you cant beat up the school wimp". They'd been receiving punishments for not injuring the other kids based on their lack of progress in hurting me. They claimed the Bosses figured I'd be out with an injury & there would surely be a larger number of injured fellow students on the sidelines beside me. They told me many of the Dozen didn't like me to begin with. So they all made a pact to kill me. They were going to kill me for revenge. They knew the Bosses wouldn't like it but they'd have to cover it up despite their personal feelings. They said they knew there would be a punishment from on high for the murder but it'd be worth it when they considered how much they hated me & how much I'd been humiliating them in front of the Bosses & the little Girl whores of our classroom who teased them mercilessly. Fagboy bragged with a starry look in his eyes. "Then the Bosses will have to cover it up. It'll be the perfect murder".
What did I do? I was respectful & I blocked. I dodged. I blocked & I dodged... respectfully.
I blocked.
I dodged.
I acted in a respectful manner to everyone involved to the best of my ability. I obeyed my Bible. I forgave my attackers. I turned the other cheek. I obeyed my Mother & my Father who both ordered me to not hurt my classmates no matter what they did to me. No exceptions.
I prayed a lot.
I saluted those in authority over me as best I could.
Then, I blocked some more from day to day. Then I dodged some more. Then after I was respectful to everyone involved to the best of my ability.
Respect to the best of my ability? Saluting those in authority above me even though they were either directly involved in trying to kill me or unwittingly involved in it not knowing the boys who I now call "The Death Pact Dozen" had sworn to me that they would kill me in what their co-conspirators knew was a felonious assault upon my person with weapons.
WOW! Were they angry. Some began to scream things like. "TODAY YOU DIE" And "I'm going to kill you". Soon they were screaming it more often. Eventually Duh Jerk & The Gym Teacher separately bragged the threats were mandatory. Each child had to threaten to kill me... on film... to facilitate what would be a lifetime of controlling my classmates via blackmail films. Note my choice of words here, "mandatory".
The Lil girl whores (their boasted profession, not an insult on them) formed a cheer squad that chanted openly for my death. "KILL DAVID GEORGE"! Openly. Often for the entire hour. I used to approach them & tease them for grammatical errors to keep them off balance. In the weeks to come, this not only infuriated them, but it also enraged them. They chanted in unison loudly. "KILL DAVID GEORGE & BREAK HIS BONES"!
Yeah... I went to the local... cops. Even though they often approached while the total sum of my classmates chanted for my death loudly & were actively attacking me with lethal weapons the... cops forgave them all. Even when they attacked me in front of them & even when the men & boys attacked me in front of the police en-mass inside the police station itself in view of a dozen or more... cops. Often. Bi-weekly as a rule.
How did I take this? I complained. I complained... respectfully.
The Gym Teacher & later Duh Jerk came to me & bluntly said I had to dance or die.
Me? I refused. Respectfully.
The attacks were full-time now. An hour-long attempted murder. Some days it was lengthened to 2 hours..
It escalated more & more. Hours of death... pain... bodies everywhere when they brought in switch hitters...
Sigh...
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HOW CAN YOU LIVE WITH THE GUILT?
It happened a few times at My Mother's Parent's house. "My Cousin" posed a question to me. "How can you live with all the guilt of all the people you killed"?
"My Cousin" bragged that the other children he was inflicting my tale on usually killed themselves in the 1st few months & after just a single or a few slayings. How did I deal with the guilt?
"Because it isn't my fault". I told him. "That's all on you".
"How do you figure"? He asked. In so many words he said all his other victims were sobbing yes men wracked with guilt & willing to do anything he said for the privilege of not killing others. Then he usually tormented them for a time & then just killed them. With his films the... cops would ask no questions. Why was I different? How did I justify my guilt? How could I live with the guilt of knowing all the people who died & the fact that I'd killed them?
My rebuttal came down to this. "Because if you didn't mess with me then no one would be dead".
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HOW CAN YOU LIVE WITH THE GUILT" 2
A follow-up to the above tale. Here goes...
After My Cousin demanded to know. "How can you live with the guilt of all the people you killed"? I asked him a question. "How can you live with the guilt of all of the people you killed"? It seemed like a reasonable question to me.
He answered me. He explained in so many words that killing people was fun to him. Quite enjoyable. He liked it. It was his job & his hobby.
I asked him "Why innocent people"? Then I explained that he should change his ways. If he wasn't going to get his heart right with God he was on his way to Hell. But why not give up killing innocents & do some good with his hobby instead? Surely there were enough scumbags around that he could pick a few of them off instead & even be a hero. He'd be doing society better than killing innocents.
When he asked what kind of scumbags I pointed out some. Killers, rapists, there are a lot of violent rapists getting out of prison who brag they'll never change. I forget the name but Circa 1973 I pointed out a guy who'd just beaten horrific criminal charges on a technicality. Why not him?
My Cousin said he liked the bad people. Besides all that, he knew the guy I spoke of by name. He was a now infamous satanist, member of his religion, & he liked people like that. So no, he wasn't going to change his ways.
I had a similar chat with Duh Jerk & The 4 Stars in the coming decades.
Duh Jerk had a slightly different take on why he liked to kill innocent people, particularly the meek average citizens & the weak. "You start messing with bad people & they're going to come back at you. Some of them have friends & if you mess with them they are going to attack back & hard. So I prefer to go after the sheep". Simply put he explained. It was dangerous to go after the real scumbags & much easier to frame honest decent people to be scumbags & then to do away with them AND be perceived as a hero when he did it".
Go figure huh? It was a courage thing. He got his kicks from murdering people, innocent people were easier to murder, no other reason. He said it was why he became a Public-School Employee. Where else could he victimize an entire class of people & all he had to do to facilitate it was to wear a suit when he did it..
Out of the mouth of babes & sucklings thou hast perfected praise.​
A ROSE BY ANY OTHER NAME...
One day while "My Cousin" was chewing me out for having to cover up for a few people I'd killed while on their drug(s?) he complained. He owned me in his opinion, since birth, & I'd do well to submit to him or other such nonsense.
I usually countered that he knew I was the most obedient of all the attendees of his Grande Parties at my Mother's Parent's place. Indeed, I knew that he often gave me many assignments based Soley on the fact that he knew if the task was assigned to me it would get done. He'd even confided in me that at times, as the gang Leader it troubled him that he'd give mundane assignments to his guys & they'd fail & he had to punish them. He wasn't always in the mood to punish his fellow party animals for failure. So he'd assign the tasks to me. Besides, when not paid they always did sloppy work at best & I always did my best & he never paid me once. "Sometimes I just want [someone to get me] a beer, not to punish them if they forget because they get distracted [by drugs] on the way".
Why'd I say the above? Eh, it seemed relevant. One day "My Cousin" was chewing me out. He said something that escapes me at the time of this writing & I called him a liar, like usual. "Why do you even bother to talk to me? I don't believe a word you say".
Usually, he took that in stride. Today he got angry this time. He'd owned me since birth. He claimed to have named me & my brother names that would identify us as victims of the gang for life. He noted my imprisonment in "The Crib", the isolation & physical & mental horror I'd endured & said he named all of his baby victims David Allen. My initials (D.A.G.) would be a public marker for the gang for life. "I name all my victims David Allen". He said that the deprivation & horror he inflicted on babies ALWAYS resulted in the baby dying of Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. He bragged he made sure to do it one at a time to the babies & that it always worked... until me. He even claimed it was irritating as now he'd have to change the name he used because of my survival of "The Ordeal of the Crib".
"I named you David Allen & I named your Brother after a penis". This would facilitate his later rape convictions as loyal gang members in law-enforcement knew to watch for the name & to act accordingly at every stage of their victim's life.
My opinion? I am not now nor was I ever a mid-Michigan... cop so I don't believe every word that comes out of a child-molestor's mouth. Even less so when a mid-Michigan... cop testifies that said Molestors are honorable, trustworthy, or "a reliable informant".
IN THE POLICE STATION...
Soooo there I was... lots of times, but I'll focus on the time in winter of 1981. I was 16. Duh Jerk & the 4 Stars sleep-deprived me by taking turns with children. I was drugged with strength-depriving drugs & their team surrounded me. They engaged me in conversation for the cameras, even acting like we were friends & on their drugs I often obliged them. Every now & again I would become semi-lucid & they & their Jock army jumped me & drugged me anew & the filming kept going. Other times it was soley slap attacks, slap me in the face & keep me awake until delirium set in. Often, we just did like we often did, they all stood around & made me shoot guns, usually with blanks, all day every day for weeks on end. Filming my every interaction & dream-deprived statement (I hear I look very, very bad).
Fade to black...
I awoke wit Duh Jerk & the 4 Stars & a few giant Jocks in a large panel van in the back yard of Bay City Michigan's City Hall which back then was the acting Police Department. The 4 Stars handed me an M-16 with a 10 round clip & suggested that. "Since you're dreaming why not go in there & shoot up the Police Department for fun"?
After all the horrors & humiliations I'd recived there it was an easy sell & I agreed to do it.
Sooooo... I walked inside armed with the assault rifle in the wintery cold. Dirty Cop himself put his hand near his pistol & he was clearly waiting my arrival.
Me? I was shocked semi-lucid & I laid out the conspiracy to him & the only other... cop there in the late night hours. Dirty Cop claimed not to buy it... of course & he prompted the other... cop that they should call paramedics because. "I was obviously on drugs".
The paramedics came all right. Fagboy & Shortstuff dressed as teen paramedics. When I balked all the... cops & the Stars threatened to beat me up & force me onto the gurney despite my protests.
It was in the police station.
Sooo... pan ahead a few years for the next 5-7 years. Annually the gang slapped & doped me into sleep deprivation & delerium & bodily took me to the Police Station in Bay City, Saginaw, & who knows where else? They tortured me & dropped me off & invited me to tell the Police about it.
So I did. The... cops said I was delirious, semi-coherent at best, & obviously on drugs. They could tell by my shaking (I suffer from Graves Disease, it makes one shakey & gives one light sensitivity, which only proved I was all the more a druggie or junkie (after all, look at all the needle tracks & marks I had from months of torture).
Usually Dirty Cop was there & he would ask me the same questions over & over. The way delerium works is you'll give different answers sometimes. Certain memories may not be accessible that were something I was just talking about.
Dirty Cop loved to ask me. "Is this part of a rape fantasy"? Over & over. Usually I said no but random answers are often the result of said torture. Then he said to his peers. "See? I told you he was lying".
They did this over & over & over & over & over & over & over & over & over & over & over & over & over & over. Sometimes Duh Jerk or one of the 4 Stars went in as a "friend". Literally there, standing behind or even beside me, engaging me in conversation about how my accusations were baseless, lies, delusions, or whatever. Changing the theme over & over to see what would fly, which looked the best... on film to be later edited out.
I often became semi-coherent at this point & realised that the "friend" I'd just talked to police for hours with was in fact one of my kidnappers & that this was a kidnapping/torture session here & now... IN THE POLICE STATION! Police Stations actually.
It's only trivia to add that they threatened me with arrest usually & when I tried to leave they let me leave. Only to have dirty cops & fake ambulances arrest me after I made it to the parking lot time & again.
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