Since the CIA never confronts me in person, they like to give me subtle hints to let me know that they are the agency charged with the task of destroying my life. This is in retaliation for my efforts to expose the fact that they killed President Kennedy in 1963 and have been running this country into the ground ever since.
Just to give you an example of the kind of tactics they use, the other day I was out driving around when I was passed on the left-hand side by a white van that had "Monarch Beverage" painted on the side. This was significant because the CIA started a program back in the 1940s called Monarch. It may even be going on today under the same name, or it could have a different name.
At any rate, much has been written about this program, which involved tourturing people to split their personalities so they could be used for sex slaves, assassins or whatever sick, twisted and perverted purpose the Nazi doctors could devise.
Also, on one of my so-called "jobs" at the CTB-McGraw Hill testing center, they had posters on the wall referring to the Monarch training program. They said, "Monarch: The Power to Lead."
Now, it's possible that was just a coincidence, but I checked the McGraw Hill web site, and I did not find any reference to this wonderful program. That leads me to believe that those posters were made specifically for my benefit. Since that office was crawling with CIA operatives and is basically just a CIA front, they wanted to intimidate me with references to that program.
Since they never come right out and tell me anything, I have to figure all this out on my own. I'm sot sure if I'm supposed to think I was at one time part of the Monarch program, or if I still am, or if it's all just a smokescreen.
Regardless of the name of the program or the agency in charge of implementing it, it has become increasingly evident to me lately that I have been involved in some kind of mind control program my entire adult life and possibly since I was a young child. I could even be one of those Monarch kids who were tortured in the 1950s. I was born in 1955 and can't remember anything until 1960, but that's typical. Most people don't remember much from their early childhood. The latest revelation about the CIA spiking French bread with LSD in the 1950s is here: www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/europe/france/7415082/French-bread-spiked-with-LSD-in-CIA-experiment.html
Since my father was in Air Force intelligence and worked on the atom bomb project, it's possible that I was "volunteered" for a CIA project or some other intelligence project. Children whose fathers served in the military are commonly used for that sort of thing. All I know is, strange things started happening to me when I was a kid, and things got increasingly more bizarre as time went on.
It took me a long time to realize that many of the most painful experiences in my life were not just the usual bad breaks from the school of hard knocks. In many cases, they were covert operations involving members of my own family and people I thought were my friends.
I had a lot of incidents like that involving my father. One time I climbed a tree and was watching him play tennis when I fell out of the tree and injured my leg. Instead of comforting me, he ran over and started yelling at me.
My father did not show me much affection when I was a child, and he hardly ever praised me, even though I was a good student and a good athlete. I won the Little League batting title when I was a kid, but he hardly ever came to watch me play.
Contrast that with my approach as a father. Not only did I go to virtually all my son's games, I coached his team when he was 9 and 10. I wouldn't have missed it!
Another time my brother and I helped my dad paint the garage. Afterwards, he told us to clean up the brushes, not bothering to explain that we had to use turpentine because it was oil-based paint. Well, since this was our first experience with paint, we didn't have a clue what we were doing, and as you can imagine, we made an awful mess trying to clean those brushes with water.
So can you guess what our dad's reaction to the fiasco was? He yelled at us! Not only that, he made us sit on a stump in the hot sun and think about what we had done. Does that strike you as a rational response to the situation?
I don't think so. Matter of fact, I think it's so irrational as to be ridiculous and even suspicious. Bad parenting is one thing, but this was really off the charts in terms of being cruel.
When I was in junior high school, I had lots of friends and girlfriends, I was on the basketball and football teams, and life was good for the most part. But I also had bullies picking on me for no good reason whatsoever.
At first, I thought they were just jealous because I was more popular or better-looking than they were. But the truth is, I never understood why I was singled out for abuse. For one thing, I was a genuinely nice kid. I didn't make fun of others kids or brag about how great I was or do anything to antagonize anybody.
Despite the fact that I was just minding my own business, however, this kid I barely knew beat the crap out of me at school one day as my so-called "friend" just stood there and watched. This kid was a lot bigger than me and a whole sight meaner, too. It wasn't a fair fight.
Another time I was just walking down the hallway, minding my own business, when this gigantic kid walked up to me and pushed me so hard that all my books went flying. Another thing that was odd about this was that one of my girlfriends just happened to be standing there watching the whole thing unfold. That was pretty humiliating, but I didn't feel like getting my ass kicked again, so I just shut my mouth, picked up my books and walked away.
Sometimes the abuse would just be emotional. I had a girlfriend in eighth grade who I liked a lot. She wasn't the prettiest girl in the school, but she was nice and fun, and we had good times when we were together. There was another girl I really had a crush on, but one of my friends was going steady with her, so I considered it a lost cause. Even if I had been able to steal her away from him, I wouldn't have felt right about it, because we were friends.
So one day, my friend proposed that we swap girlfriends. I said sure, because I always had a crush on her anyway.
Well, the four of us were walking down the street holding hands at the time, so all the sudden we switched girls and I had my dream date. The problem was, my dream girl starting pissing me off in various ways, and pretty soon I wanted my old girlfriend back. But things were never the same with her after that, either. The whole experience left me feeling confused and upset.
Just to give you an example of the kind of tactics they use, the other day I was out driving around when I was passed on the left-hand side by a white van that had "Monarch Beverage" painted on the side. This was significant because the CIA started a program back in the 1940s called Monarch. It may even be going on today under the same name, or it could have a different name.
At any rate, much has been written about this program, which involved tourturing people to split their personalities so they could be used for sex slaves, assassins or whatever sick, twisted and perverted purpose the Nazi doctors could devise.
Also, on one of my so-called "jobs" at the CTB-McGraw Hill testing center, they had posters on the wall referring to the Monarch training program. They said, "Monarch: The Power to Lead."
Now, it's possible that was just a coincidence, but I checked the McGraw Hill web site, and I did not find any reference to this wonderful program. That leads me to believe that those posters were made specifically for my benefit. Since that office was crawling with CIA operatives and is basically just a CIA front, they wanted to intimidate me with references to that program.
Since they never come right out and tell me anything, I have to figure all this out on my own. I'm sot sure if I'm supposed to think I was at one time part of the Monarch program, or if I still am, or if it's all just a smokescreen.
Regardless of the name of the program or the agency in charge of implementing it, it has become increasingly evident to me lately that I have been involved in some kind of mind control program my entire adult life and possibly since I was a young child. I could even be one of those Monarch kids who were tortured in the 1950s. I was born in 1955 and can't remember anything until 1960, but that's typical. Most people don't remember much from their early childhood. The latest revelation about the CIA spiking French bread with LSD in the 1950s is here: www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/europe/france/7415082/French-bread-spiked-with-LSD-in-CIA-experiment.html
Since my father was in Air Force intelligence and worked on the atom bomb project, it's possible that I was "volunteered" for a CIA project or some other intelligence project. Children whose fathers served in the military are commonly used for that sort of thing. All I know is, strange things started happening to me when I was a kid, and things got increasingly more bizarre as time went on.
It took me a long time to realize that many of the most painful experiences in my life were not just the usual bad breaks from the school of hard knocks. In many cases, they were covert operations involving members of my own family and people I thought were my friends.
I had a lot of incidents like that involving my father. One time I climbed a tree and was watching him play tennis when I fell out of the tree and injured my leg. Instead of comforting me, he ran over and started yelling at me.
My father did not show me much affection when I was a child, and he hardly ever praised me, even though I was a good student and a good athlete. I won the Little League batting title when I was a kid, but he hardly ever came to watch me play.
Contrast that with my approach as a father. Not only did I go to virtually all my son's games, I coached his team when he was 9 and 10. I wouldn't have missed it!
Another time my brother and I helped my dad paint the garage. Afterwards, he told us to clean up the brushes, not bothering to explain that we had to use turpentine because it was oil-based paint. Well, since this was our first experience with paint, we didn't have a clue what we were doing, and as you can imagine, we made an awful mess trying to clean those brushes with water.
So can you guess what our dad's reaction to the fiasco was? He yelled at us! Not only that, he made us sit on a stump in the hot sun and think about what we had done. Does that strike you as a rational response to the situation?
I don't think so. Matter of fact, I think it's so irrational as to be ridiculous and even suspicious. Bad parenting is one thing, but this was really off the charts in terms of being cruel.
When I was in junior high school, I had lots of friends and girlfriends, I was on the basketball and football teams, and life was good for the most part. But I also had bullies picking on me for no good reason whatsoever.
At first, I thought they were just jealous because I was more popular or better-looking than they were. But the truth is, I never understood why I was singled out for abuse. For one thing, I was a genuinely nice kid. I didn't make fun of others kids or brag about how great I was or do anything to antagonize anybody.
Despite the fact that I was just minding my own business, however, this kid I barely knew beat the crap out of me at school one day as my so-called "friend" just stood there and watched. This kid was a lot bigger than me and a whole sight meaner, too. It wasn't a fair fight.
Another time I was just walking down the hallway, minding my own business, when this gigantic kid walked up to me and pushed me so hard that all my books went flying. Another thing that was odd about this was that one of my girlfriends just happened to be standing there watching the whole thing unfold. That was pretty humiliating, but I didn't feel like getting my ass kicked again, so I just shut my mouth, picked up my books and walked away.
Sometimes the abuse would just be emotional. I had a girlfriend in eighth grade who I liked a lot. She wasn't the prettiest girl in the school, but she was nice and fun, and we had good times when we were together. There was another girl I really had a crush on, but one of my friends was going steady with her, so I considered it a lost cause. Even if I had been able to steal her away from him, I wouldn't have felt right about it, because we were friends.
So one day, my friend proposed that we swap girlfriends. I said sure, because I always had a crush on her anyway.
Well, the four of us were walking down the street holding hands at the time, so all the sudden we switched girls and I had my dream date. The problem was, my dream girl starting pissing me off in various ways, and pretty soon I wanted my old girlfriend back. But things were never the same with her after that, either. The whole experience left me feeling confused and upset.
2 comments:
Shalom Matt,
Ask yourself this.
Why did they call it the Monarch Program in the first place...
I don't know. Could it be because a caterpillar is transformed into a butterfly, and mind control transforms a normal human being into a robot?
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