Dawn of the Hunter


“You see these fingers, dear hearts? These fingers has veins that run straight to the soul of man.” —Robert Mitchum as Rev. Harry Powell, Night of the Hunter, discussing H-A-T-E and L-O-V-E tattooed on his fingers.

I have decided that the “pure euphoria drug,” “love drug,” and the “frisky drug” are probably separate entities. At least two, maybe three. Definitely points where not all three conditions were present at the same time.

Additionally, I recall a study that indicated that sexual arousal did not have the same benefits as being in love. The latter works as a natural pain reducer, for example, while the former does not. This implies some different areas of the brain being involved in those two conditions. Would seem that well-being is separate as well (though these areas are probably all close together geographically as is, sorry but it’s true, the one for religious ecstasy).

And since I haven’t written this in a while, these things used on me might not have been drugs at all…might be some electronic method or methods, though the duration implies a decidedly neurochemical change. Might even be a pathogen of some kind. I don’t know about the latest in the effects of infra- and ultrasound either. Think about how music can affect our mood. That infrasound has been shown to cause effects even though it is outside the hearing range of humans could be one indicator. (The references to it that I have read have been a little sketchy, but I assume the basics are true about the exhaust-fan-in-a-lab-that-caused-nausea-through-unheard-vibrations since there are crowd control weapons operating on similar principle).

I have no way of knowing with so much secrecy involved and so many places to try to look for the answer. I only know that it’s the case for me, interference in my life in the most insisidous of ways: black ops. Slice it how you like, statistically, historically, whatever, it adds up to the same: this is not natural, not a huge seemingly unending string of coincidences, nor without precedent.

As written before, the manual on “slipping someone a Mickey,” or a Mickey Finn as they used to say, was written in the 1950s and has been published recently. There is a link at right to the book on Amazon.

The point though, it was the euphoria, the feeling of well-being, and the really, over-the-top, 20-on-a-10-scale, feeling of love * that got me through the initial portion of the destruction of everything I once knew as my life. My brain was tricked and therefore so was the rest of me (though some would argue that’s what we are: brains inside meat vehicles/generators).

(Side note: there certainly were moments, windows of exceptions. I was not any of those things 24/7, but sometimes it was a mere twenty minutes here or there that were the exception. As I stated, getting angry for me rarely lasts more than a few minutes at most. That is, what we refer to as “seeing red”, not the revenge/thirst for justice reflex which, good luck at this point shutting that down. I was that way before this started. The addition of “happy juice” only made the emotional contrast more stark).

An interesting thought occurred to me last night. Though I have danced around the idea, it’s been obvious for some time, to take it to its logical end I had not quite bothered to do.

Why not, instead of creating havoc, go the other way? Why not, instead of scaring people into compliance, “happy” them into it? You know, Kids in the Hall – Brain Candy us. (I know, we kind of do that with TV, dance clubs, fluffy pop culture, etc. but I mean drug us).

The feeling of well-being, when as overwhelming as it was for me, overcomes most bad news. The housing and job markets tanking? So what? I’m happy as a clam anyway! 401K shrinking? Ah, I’ll be just fine.

It just would seem to have been the path of least resistance. You could probably go ridiculous with the invasive surveillance stuff, create draconian laws, and still find no resistance to it at all.

Maybe. I did still write letters of protest, requested action and change. It was just that I largely did so tempered with humor. And I would say that I probably did more writing since I had an artificially strong positive attitude about it all. It wasn’t as if I went overly mellow and decided I didn’t need to do anything, just that it would all work out just fine.

So maybe that is the reason. At the same time, though, it prevented what might have been a violent response. (I really don’t think so, but then how can you know without going through exactly the same without recalling the lessons of first time around?) So, if—though I dispute this idea for many reasons—austerity is necessary, why not make folks a little happier about it?

I have to go with happy people don’t buy as much stuff to fill the void. If you are content, why buy the flashy newer car, the larger TV screen, the bigger house? The one you have is apparently not interfering with you happiness, so not broke/don’t fix.

(But the underlying problem with austerity and unhappiness is that it’s impossible to support the economy if people aren’t paid enough to buy the stuff being sold. This was one of the major lessons of the Great Depression. It was hilarious to me that my libertarian neighbor said that the problem was that people wanted too much stuff, not that they weren’t paid enough. While I would agree that we can do without a lot more than we think, his other economic policies—extreme capitalist—support a strong economy. Can’t have that without cash flow, can’t have cash flow without decent pay, and can’t apparently have decent pay without government interference. This comes in the shape of at least protecting the First Amendment rights of people to protest and negotiate labor. Because that pay gap, that has grown immensely since the tax brackets got shrunk during the Reagan administration, will only continue to grow otherwise, threatening anything from fascism to monarchy as corporations outgrow the government in power. Already the case, isn’t it?)

So, why not love? Because, sadly, it is apparently at odds with Wall Street and the military industrial complex. Happy folks don’t want (I assume, given absence of the cuddle-kill reflex) to bomb brown people to feel better or safer. They are content.

I’m not trying to make an argument for communism. I’d prefer some balanced form of capitalism. I don’t expect perfection. The whole capitalism bag is predicated on getting as much of someone’s money for as little investment as possible.

But things are so out of whack, so lopsided as to be farcical to state otherwise, that it could be the outcome. And I just don’t understand why capitalists don’t see that or don’t care.

* This despite being hammered by the lyrics “blow out that cherry bomb for me”, whatever that was supposed to mean. I said it before and I’ll say it again: some of this may have been a rorschach test, but it sure as f*** wasn’t mine. Massive and consistent failure on the parts of those tested. I diagnose the IC and JSOC with MPD, paranoid schizophrenia, delusions, delusions of grandeur, dementia, paranoid hallucinations, sociopathic greed, homicidal psychopathy, various personality disorders, and a general lack of empathy and common sense. That is my considered, studied, and well-founded opinion. While there are exceptions within, I’m sure, they tend to get run off, forced out, silenced.


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