THE BLACK BOOT DIARIES – Who Do You Trust?
Background and context:
Worked for an environmental lobbying organization on and off for the past year plus. There, I heard a great deal about what people thought of Senator Paul Wellstone.
He was the avatar of environmental activism. He still is, really. Pictures of him adorn the walls at the office, t-shirts with his name are not uncommon, quotes hanging on and near desks, etc.
In 1998, the Department of Justice released this report regarding the feasibility of an EMP weapon to stop cars in high speed pursuits, etc. Feasible. Government interest shown.
This report states that the US Department of Defense is by far the largest polluter in the world. It contains notes and references for this assertion. (That’s how you know it may have some truth in it, as opposed to, for example, “Rush Limbaugh said so”).
Additionally, he voted against the invasion of Iraq. I don’t know whether or not the story that days before Wellstone’s plane went down, that he told a room full of veterans that Dick Cheney had threatened him and the state of Minnesota if Wellstone voted against it.
(Just a personal note… The circumstances under which I wrote about Minnesota in fiction and wound up living there are strange to say the least. More on that some other time).
Then Illinois state senator Barack Obama also voted against it in a state non-binding resolution (think that’s the correct term; not a law but more of a political comment on what was happening in Washington).
Additionally, I’m sure I don’t have to explain or remind folks of the toxic atmosphere that pervaded much of 2009. I even saw someone ask the president a direct question about his concerns over being assassinated which he shut down by saying the the Secret Service was the best in the world.
In October of 2010, the night before I went to see Obama do a stump speech for Mark Dayton’s gubernatorial campaign, I went to my usual watering hole. Somehow, what I was going to do the next day (take photos of the event for OFA Minnesota) kept coming up. Several people, when hearing I was attending, said, “What for? To shoot him?” I got so disgusted that I left. That and a moron from Texas who thinks government—and of course not the “innocent” corporations—are the only thing wrong with the world (beyond, one assumes non-whites and non-Americans) just meant it was time to go home.
So, see that? F***ing context. You cannot adequately explain why things that happen are notable without it. Not when you’re dealing with criminals and terrorists in your own intelligence community.
So it was, after understanding further that: the beacon that Wellstone’s plane was homing in on to land in a storm may have been malfunctioning. (For additional fun, compare the current Wikipedia entry with the article above. Same until you get to the beacon and then it just stops), that Mark Dayton and the FBI both spent a lot of time looking into it, understanding that there are several more possibilities (the “perfect concussion” noted in the 1977 Senate hearings on MKULTRA, US Patents such as what is now Sony’s 6,729,337 for projecting sensory data onto the cerebral cortex—that’s part of your brain concerned with delivering what you see, smell, hear, taste, touch in layman’s terms).
Quote from the article:
But they did reveal new questions about the accident, including the pilot’s decision to make the flight in the first place.
Again: Microwave auditory effect. You cannot tell the difference between that and your own inner dialog. As long as what is “said” sounds reasonable, you will probably do what you think your brain decided to do. It simply may not have been his decision but was put so cleverly to him that he never realized it wasnt his own brain doing the reasoning.
(That’s why driving the Laughner’s of the world insane or choosing people who are already insane is so important if you want them to kill someone; morality and other factors still get in the way).
So it was, knowing most of that, having been harassed nearly every day for hours on end for a year plus spots of previous nonsense, that I found myself sitting in the Secret Service’s office here in January 2011 concerned that this might happen to, for example, Air Force One or Marine One.
The meeting went fine. As usual, these folks—just like the others I have met—utterly professional.
At their request I willingly and without hesitation (except for one small concern about being a credible witness when the s*** hits the fan) I agreed to go to the emergency room for psychological evaluation.
The young woman I spoke with was clearly disturbed by part of what I told her. It might have been that wierd thing that happened in Munich in 1988 where (I believe) CIA considered recruiting me (I imagine I failed due to laughing through most of it). That came complete with a (the nurse’s word, competing a sentence I could not, apparently she’d hears the story before) “vamp” who followed and attached herself to our group. CIA would like everyone else to believe she was a foreign agent, of course, because it’s the only way they can justify their nonstop abuse and torture of me. That’s how you know it wasn’t a foreign power, they would have brought me in for interrogation long ago, counterintel or no. It’s trying to close the barn door behind the escaped horse again. And it will be as in the past, the coverup that does them in.
Moving on, the doctor, who barely spent two minutes before prescribing Abilify (how far we have fallen… Usually it takes weeks or months before a diagnosis can be given, but this doctor was “special” and could figure it out in two minutes from the nurse’s notes that took all of fifteen to twenty).
Anyway, I took the first one and spent several hours cursing at someone who didn’t deserve it. So I stopped taking them lest I wind up taking a baseball bat to some random person due to a misprescribed or drug switcheroo.
(See what f***ing good intentions gets you?).
The point: don’t know it that really was Abilify. Probably has been replaced by the real thing by this point (i kept the unused portion). But this shows clearly they really, really want me arrested or otherwise off the goddamn Internet and cut off from everyone I know.
And all because Cheney/DOD/CIA may have murdered a sitting US senator and Obama may be covering it up. (Of course I the potential understand why. It’s how things are done in the land of PoliticsAsUsual, DC!).
EMP disabled plane? Storm plus forcing a bad decision via MAE? Perfect concussion knocked them out or stunned them? Projecting “bad data” onto the brain stem? Some combination of those? Who cares which it was? There are several uninvestigated options right there and I’m not even an expert in the details of the science. I don’t have to be a mechanic to know you press the pedal on the right and it goes faster, the one on the left, slower. We take cars for granted that way. These are just other machines that happen to be in the hands of a**holes.
You have motive: intimidation in order to get one’s way. You have evidence like the still undisclosed because of an arguably illegal executive privilege ploy that Cheney pulled regarding his energy meetings. You have ordering and carrying out torture. You have a basic tenet of the neoconservative philosophy being that honesty is not required nor desirable in politics. You have massive amounts of money being made while the majority of Americans lose their pensions, jobs, savings, and homes.
And you have this (there’s a more recent article I saw but have lost track of a few days ago, apparently it’s more firm now than in ’06: could be an extinction event). If you don’t care about me, of you figure you won’t be around by 2100, maybe there will be someone you know and care about who will.
Now can you see why—apart from the other thing—I just can’t let it go?
Demand a thorough investigation through your representatives. Only way it will happen.
PS: I’d have done the same for Shrub believe it or not. Those elections might have been stolen, but he became President-Elect the moment Gore surrendered. It’s the the proper way to handle things no matter who you’re talking about.