The Chief of the Imperial German General Staff, Alfred von Schlieffen, was riding his horse with other officers when they came to a beautiful river. The other officers exclaimed at the beauty of the scenery, but von Schlieffen merely remarked out loud that it was ‘an insignificant obstacle’. He was thinking in military terms, and the whole geography around us can be thought of that way – where to defend, where to attack.
I used to go to college in Riverdale, NY, and there was a very tall white apartment building that housed the Soviet diplomats and their visitors. “…the apartment building in Riverdale and the mission all bristled with antennas for listening to American conversations…” (see sources).
If I recall correctly, one of the places my brother and I would jog by was considered as a drop by Russian agents, but they then reported to their superiors that annoying bourgeois activity had prevented them.
I sometimes take a train along the Hudson, get off at Beacon, and go bicycling across the bridge to Newburgh. Nearby are some orchards, and fields, and one was bought by Mafia members to bury their victim’s bodies.
So you get the idea. We look at our landscape one way, but a person who plans an attack, or some other nefarious deed, looks at it another way.
Now how does a paranoid person look at the landscape?
I myself have several characteristics of a paranoid mindset.
1. I believe in a scenario that others find absurd
2. This scenario involved being under constant surveillance, and attacked at intervals.
3. This scenario involves futuristic types of technology
4. I’m an unimportant individual who nobody would waste time in attacking, but I still believe it.
5. I don’t listen to other people’s arguments that I’m insane (I listen, but I remain unconvinced).
So how does this affect my view of my surroundings?
When I go out, I expect to be attacked. But I find it so hard to really grasp, that I forget about it, as I walk the quiet streets toward the river town of Irvington on Hudson, and go to the library near the train station, or walk the aqueduct. I think of all sorts of other things.
And then, what happens?
I get ambushed.
At least, this is what happens in my mind (I believe it corresponds to reality, but you don’t have to agree to get the idea). I come out of the library, lost in thought, and a car passes by and a spray of fog and powdered dust envelops my face. Sometimes there is an odor to it, such as essence of skunk, or a perfume that I’ve seen people from the gay community use. Sometimes there is a smell of “road-kill” or perhaps, to put it more accurately, the smell of death.
If I get on a bus, then it often happens that when I get off at the nearest stop to the road to my home, a car swoops by and sprays me.
If I phone my parents and tell them to pick me up at a particular spot, when I wait for them I may get sprayed.
If I sit in a fast-food restaurant, reading a book, with my mind on other things, I may get sprayed.
I went to a doctor. She gave me an x-ray, and the technician told her that I had “profound demineralization of my bones”. The doctor told me it was very rare. My brother then told me of hormones that can deplete your bone Calcium (e.g. parathyroid abnormalities).
In addition I have developed gastrointestinal problems including bleeding.
One day I rode my bike far afield, and a beautiful blue bird – but a very dead bird, was in my path. I continued on, and at the end of the ride, came up toward the long road toward my home and a beautiful red bird – but a very dead bird, was in my path.
This use of dead birds has been a long-standing practice by the “bad guys”, whoever they are, when I go too far afield.
I was riding my bicycle on a slight downhill. A car passed. I drifted gradually out of consciousness, and all of sudden I hit the asphalt – hard. Fortunately, a helpful woman drove me and my bike to the nearest station, and my wounds healed after a month or so. I told family members that I would never bike far afield again.
The next day I started down my hill on foot. There was a big banana peel in my path – a fresh, yellow banana peel, just as colorful as those birds.
Was that a message?
Two days after the accident, I picked up my niece at her elementary school in New York. I took her to a playground just two blocks away. She climbed the monkey bars. A man came behind her, and lifted something. A cloud of dust enveloped her and hit my face. Instantly my niece fell off the bars and hit the ground. She did not land on her feet, as you would expect.
I stay away from the city now, as much as possible. One reason is that the stuff I get sprayed with their causes headaches and general unpleasantness.
So I’m ending up stuck in my ghetto within a small radius of travel. As a person who cycled the Alps, and the Blue Ridge of North Carolina, and the West Coast, and parts of South America, and Scotland, this is quite outrageous.
So that’s my story of geography of paranoia (if it is paranoia).
My idea of temporary safe haven is in a small narrow park next to Silver Lake in White Plains, with the lake behind me and on one side, private property on the third, and a long field of grass stretching to the entrance so that I can sit by the lake and see if anyone comes near and how they act when they do.
In general though, the places people feel safe in the US are contracting. For instance, one of the most dangerous jobs in America is to be a bus driver. Mass transit has become more dangerous for passengers too, and this has happened in places that I remember as having been safe.
Jews still feel safe in NYC. But judging by what went on in a recent Muslim march here, that won’t be for long. In France, there are no-go zones where even the police are afraid to enter, and Jews are leaving en-masse.
It would be nice to return to a mindset where it really would be paranoid to expect an attack.
I can’t find the source on burials near Newburgh, but I did find this: http://articles.philly.com/1993-09-10/news/25987897_1_anthony-tumac-accetturo-crime-family-michael-taccetta