In Alice in Wonderland, there is a character (the Queen) who recommends believing six impossible things before breakfast.
Indeed life can be stranger than fiction, there are many developments in real life that no novelist would have thought of, or if he did, he would not have thought them plausible enough to submit to an editor.
Now I’m going to tell you of a real big social force in your environment that you have never heard of. I will challenge your ability to even read through this post, since my assertions are so far out. I do not know anyone, including me, who could believe them.
Here they are:
1. Criminals, using a perverted science, have put drugs in my body for most of the past 23 years. Now right here, readers will say – “paranoia alert!”. First of all, if criminals want to hurt you, they don’t spend 23 years doing it. And so forth.
But read on:
What do I mean by chemicals? Am I talking about too much lead in the paint in my room? Or maybe DDT? Of course not. – Bear with me:
2. Now how were these chemicals delivered into my body and brain? Did I eat and drink them?
Yes and no. There are various ways to get drugs and chemicals into a person. If you are a criminal, one way could be having your date drink something laced with Rohypnol in a bar.
There are non-standard ways: For instance, as just one example, I remember once reading of terrorists who discussed smearing cyanide paste on doorknobs. So one touch is enough to kill the victim.
For a more recent example, there is Syria’s use of poison gas on big outdoor areas.
So if you think about it, where there is a will to do something like this, there is a way. And one thing I’ve learned about these criminals, they have a huge will to do mischief. So they pursue avenues that we might think of as petty, and they come out as hugely powerful.
I can tell you, from experience that:
Drugs can be sprayed from cars that have been modified for that purpose.
Drugs can be sprayed by individuals, close up.
Drugs and poisons can be put in a water bottle of a bicycle that has been left outside while the owner went into a store. Or smeared as a paste on the handlebars.
And so forth. The drugs would have to be very potent in small doses, but nerve drugs often are.
3. The drugs I’ve been hit with included a sex drug. You might think there are no such drugs. But why not? If our urges are mediated by our brain, and our brain cells have receptors for various and sundry hormones, neurotransmitters, etc., and if we know of other urges (like thirst) that can be turned on with peptides, then it can’t be dismissed out of hand that the sex urge can also be turned on (and maybe off).
It gets better: They don’t use just one type of sex-drug. They seem to have researched various aspects of reproduction of the species or maybe of mammals in general. There’s the
“tear off the clothes” drug,
the “hug anybody of the opposite gender drug“,
the “expand drastically the relevant anatomy” drug,
and so forth.
They have sleep drugs, — and not just sleep drugs, but “put you into a daze while they do various nasty things” drug. I would surmise that this might be the way they first got my keys.
They have heart damaging drugs.
And these are only the drugs I’m sure of. There is a possibility they have a “suggestibility” hypnotic drug and the retroactive amnesia drug (any evidence for this is indirect)
I have not yet reached Lewis Carroll’s six impossible things quota, but I’m just getting started.
4. I used to be handsome, according to some people, while others did not notice anything particularly out of the ordinary.
Why is this interesting? Beauty, after all, is skin deep, though Groucho Marx did say that this was “deep enough for him.”
Well first of all, my family members did not ever notice any particular pizazz as far as I was concerned. (One brother did notice, but I’m simplifying). I certainly wasn’t good looking for most of my life. But there was a window of a few years where I was. And that leads to:.
5. Another interesting aspect. Back in 1994, when the Mafia (I’m guessing its a Mafia, whatever it is, its got a large membership) started with the aphrodisiacs, and other drugs, and sometimes poisons, mixed in, I felt sicker and sicker and looked as bad as I felt. After about a year, the scintillatingly good looks were all gone.
(I no longer saw James Bond when I looked into the mirror. Nor Cary Grant. Not Marlon Brando. Just an ordinary weak looking guy with a bloated nose and big glasses and an increasingly large bald spot and drooping cheeks. Sob…)
Of course looks may be superficial, but this is almost mystical. Apparently, if you bathe a person in drugs for the purpose of showing him up to be a sex-crazed hypocrite (if that was the reason), you also make something fade that can never come back.
Now why would anyone do all this?
I don’t have all the pieces. I haven’t interviewed the bad guys. Neither has CNN.
But if you want to get ready for another impossible thing before breakfast, there is this:
6. a compromising movie of me is loose – that has not only spread across the nation, but to other countries.
As one woman said, (she proceeded to get together with some friends and poison me at one job I had, as well as sabotaging my work in hilarious ways) “He totally GROSSED ME OUT!”.
As another woman said (not at work, this was elsewhere) “He MUST BE KEPT DOWN!” (This one puzzles me – am I ideologically not correct in some way?)
7. Also involved in this story was a young woman who I treated rudely, but never was confronted face to face by her, or anybody else, with what I had supposedly done. (I would have explained it.) Perhaps that story added fuel to the fire. As a funny aside, one of the reactions to my saga was a young man who sang at me in an exaggerated sissified way the song “She drives me CRAZY, that long blond hair, she drives me crazy, and I can’t help myself…
8. Other people believed that I had some attractive power over women, in fact one MD-PhD theorized that I didn’t wash enough, so I was giving off pheromones that attracted women like flies. Oddly enough, my impression when I smelled bad was that people made unflattering remarks about my ethnicity. Maybe I have reverse-pheromones and the MD-PhD had it backwards.
The truth, from what I can see, is that “people”, not just “women”, liked the idea of me to some extent. The idea of some ordinary shmoe who is good-looking and walks in the scenic parts of the nation and seems to be well intentioned does appeal to some people.
It is amazing what a smile from a pretty woman can do. A few such smiles start a myth. In my experience before this started, people who I hiked with did not find me particularly interesting or even noticeable. One woman at one of my jobs even said I was a lousy conversationalist.
But the brief bubble of fame also attracts negative attention. Including attention from busy-bodies who feel they have to set the record straight. And guess what they have to set the record straight – a movie! A disgusting movie!
If I was a psychologist listening to all this, I would write down “the patient presents with paranoid schizophrenia, mixed with delusions of grandiosity, and hallucinations and delusions. Moreover, the patient has sexual compulsions which may make me have to consult with my Freudian colleagues.”
And indeed, just for believing in the movie, I was put in a mental hospital for two months, given ECT, and so forth.
That was not fun at all. The ECT was tolerable, but the restrictions on my freedom were not.
I remember they had a TV in the mental ward, and one of the patients felt that it should be adjusted to have all the wrong colors.
Another patient, a woman, suddenly shrieked when she looked at me “There’s a fairy on your foot!”
Another patient, a woman, told me I was a Jew! in an unflattering tone. I spontaneously clipped her on the nose before realizing what I had done, and was later pulled in to explain myself. After explaining myself, the nurse said sympathetically that this lady had an unpleasant personality. But a fellow patient, a black man, said to me with disgust “You hit a WOMAN!”. I guess that’s the only time I’d dare hit anyone – a mentally ill woman. Courage is not my defining feature.
What about rights? I once recommended on a forum in a political website that people not take marijuana, which does damage to your lungs, your brain, etc. Opposing responses included one from a person who dug up an article showing that Marijuana actually increases stem cells in one part of the brain, and another who said he had taken the stuff for a few years, and now was a competent computer programmer, so what was the problem, and finally a response from another who said I was just like the many oppressors of mankind – people who they think they know how others should live, and then impose their beliefs.
Be that as it may, my body has been subjected to all sorts of psycho-active and other drugs for years, without any consent of mine at all. Criminals can be quite authoritarian. They don’t look at the world the way others do. The idea of “rights” doesn’t make much sense to them. Nor the idea of boundaries. But they can have their nice side too. In my case, some of them did not feel I was the type of victim who should be attacked. However, I was still a danger for them, and a nuisance.
Since they were able to get into my house, they could get at my computer, and could tap the phones.
9. So they controlled my means of communication, which made it easy for them to frame me, when it was necessary, as it became necessary with the woman about whom I shipwrecked my life (Ms. Shipwreck, if you are there, I hope you feel very guilty!). Actually, I didn’t know this woman at all well, in fact, I don’t think in my entire life she said more than 5 words to me.
If there is an afterlife, and Lewis Carroll has access to the internet, and is reading all citations of his book, then he must be holding his head there and wishing he had never written that quote in Alice in Wonderland. Six impossible things may be OK before breakfast, but my list is worse than impossible.
Now how do we make sense of all of this? I think the best way to look at it is that when you swim among the sharks, its a mistake to cut your finger. There are sharks out there, for instance criminals of various types, ideological fanatics, and so forth. Its best not to have them notice you.
Secondly, I’ve read that such people constantly look for technological tools to give themselves an advantage. They are early adopters of technology, and very creative.
Thirdly, there are totalitarian countries that have the resources to research anything that will give them an advantage over their own people or over other countries. And some of these governments work with criminals. In fact the dividing line between the two may not be all that clear-cut.
So that may be how it happened.
And finally, my movie, and the strange occurrences that occurred around my woman of mystery (no offense, woman-of-infinite-allure, I don’t blame you for this), made me a magnet for the sharks. It was as if I went through the landscape with a sign painted on my back “Kick me!” (though come to think of it, sharks can’t kick).
So why am I writing all this now? Well I thought I had reached a modus-vivendi with the bad guys, but they hit me again. This was with a different reproductive drug they used, a very annoying one. I kept begging them to stop, they would not stop. This was a drug that expanded the anatomy, among other things. I think they wanted to get rid of my hangups.
There is something horrible, but also hilarious about this. These bad guys see me as someone to take seriously, to take down. I certainly don’t take myself seriously. And the whole reproductive thing (I remember one woman saying to another when they ran into me, after both looked straight at me: ‘she wants to sexually compromise him!!! I don’t like it!!! I don’t like it!!!!)- strikes me as a barrel of laughs too. But seriously I would think that the bad guys could give me up as a bad job and let me finish the last 2 decades of my life in peace. Given current global trends, their own freedom may be in danger sooner than they think. The psychopath can have the attributes of a bully – he does not want to let his prey get away with…. well with being left alone.
There is the Gideon who could have been – a chastened, well-meaning computer programmer somewhere who would be taking bike rides on weekends, reading a lot and hopefully minding his own business and remembering the unhappy lessons of “the movie” that he had to learn.
Then there is the Gideon who really was – a vessel for whatever nasty concoction a crew of criminals wanted to put into him. A person who stood by helplessly while the same crew got into his house, with access to his parents. A person who could not, from the criminals point of view, been allowed to get out of their sight. A person who could not, from their point of view, be allowed to have a job.
I’ll conclude by making one point about sanity. Years ago, I saw a woman approaching who was talking to herself. It was an animated conversation, and I thought she was eccentric, though harmless. Then I noticed a cord going from her hair to her pocket. Closer yet, I noticed there was some kind of headset on her head. This was in the early days of cellphones. So a person who seemed to be mildly weird turned out to be normal. In fact, she was at a tech frontier. My point is, if you have a missing piece of a puzzle, as the cord was in this case, it can flip your entire interpretation around. Pretty much everyone I’ve spoken with cannot build a big edifice of explanation to account for the experiences I’ve had. So they don’t believe ANY of them. It’s been interesting.