From Freedom To Slavery

Stupidity rampant

2011-06-13T05:41:00.000-07:00

Most people who read and hear about Rep. Weiner immediately ask, "How could he do something SO STUPID like that?" I've asked myself that question a million times about my torturers and trial riggers. How could anyone be SO STUPID as to concoct a plan to rig a federal trial the way my captors did? In Rep. Weiner's case the victim of his stupidity is himself and he doesn't have enough power to hide it from the public. In my case, the victim is an innocent nobody and the perpetrators have the power to keep their stupidity hidden from the public. And to this day I cannot comprehend anyone being that insane. Which by the way was their plan for their "defense". No one would believe the victim - no one could be that insane.

It is like a drunk driver running a red light. If he slams into another car, innocent victims pay the price for the drunk drivers stupidity and usually for some reason the drunk driver always seems to walk away from the accident with no injury. Occasionally, the drunk driver runs off the road, hits a tree and injures him or herself. This latter scenario is the analogy to the Weiner case; the former scenario is my case.

Back to my story: For about a month I did little but sleep and take walks. I seemed to be getting better, but I really had no way to tell for sure. My parents talked very little to me and I would generally respond to any suggestions they made with anger. Deep down I was very angery at my parents for not helping before I had gotten to such a pathetic state and I truly resented what I considered their token help now. And it seemed that as I slowly regained my faculties, my anger increased.

Finally, in early March, I took the offensive again. I typed a form letter which briefly described my ordeal and sent it to almost all of the u. s. senators and approximately fifty representatives. I also began corresponding with so called radical political groups such as the Posse Commitatus. This was the beginning of what I consider my political education and my total alienation from the amerikan political/economic system. I also began writing my account of events which had transpired so there would be some written record of how badly I had been tortured under the guise of "mental illness". And I still had the hope of exposing the sadistic crimes of the capitalist system and the amerikan government.

More about which to get depressed.

2010-10-10T11:40:00.000-07:00

Ostracize the victim.
The next week I met with Ed and we talked for over an hour about his philosophy on management and the direction he thought his new research area should take. After he was finished I started to leave his office and was just about out the door when Ed stopped me.

"Russ, I'll be back in touch with you," and he winked. "You know we do have a management position open."

I left feeling his parting comment was meant to raise my hopes about the management position. About a week went by and I did not see or hear from Ed. Then one day as I went to check my mail, I ran into Ed. As we entered the secretarial room I said "Hi Ed." Ed said nothing and ignored me and refused to acknowledge my presence. As we went to the mail boxes, I repeated my greeting. Again he ignored me and refused to acknowledge my presence. As he started to leave his office, I stepped into his path, forcing him to stop. "Hi Ed!" I said challengingly. He refused to even look up at me. He stepped sideways and walked out of the office. I was furious. I remembered how upset Osama had gotten when I only had given a faint acknowledgement of his presence. Now Ed's actions were outrageous and I was mad.

Ed's failure to acknowledge me somehow made me aware of the fact that none of the secretaries acknowledged me either. I noticed when other people walked into the secretarial pool office, the secretaries would exchange pleasantries and strike up conversations. However, when I walded in, they avoided me. I thought about it for a moment and then dismissed it as a result of my being too suspicious.

I probably would have forgotten all about it except a couple of days later I was walking down the hallway when I passed on of the secretaries. She gave me a big smile and said "hi". I couldn't help but notice the difference in her behavior. That day when I walked in the secretarial pool, all the sectretaries said hello and were friendly. It was if their change in behavior had been done on cue, and it emphasized how much I had been avoided the previous couple of weeks. Over a period of time the secretaries had slowly avoided me and I was hardly aware of the change, but the sudden sharp reversal in behavior made the difference very noticeable. It seemed unbelievable that "they" would orchestrate such actions, but the changes in behavior were too deliberate and abrupt to be normal. It was a repeat scenarios of the behavior changes that had been orchestrated at Gamma Supplies and it was all designed to create confusion in my mind and to make me sound crazy if I told someone what was being done.

Later on in these posts, I will relate repeated incidences of theft that on the surface would sound like the rantings of a crazy person unless you know the powerful psychological effects behind the sick actions. The above actions by the people around me also were designed to create powerful psychological reactions. The really sick thing about my tormenters is that they believe because they had a "reason" and "purpose" for what they were doing that it made them "sane". In fact, psychopaths and sociopaths always believe that what they do is rational and for a good purpose. They never consider their actions or themselves to be demented.

Mind contol through suggestion.(Mental torture)
The suggestions that I would become a manager were becoming more and more bazzar. My mail almost daily contained something dealing with executive items such as notepads, record books or briefcases. The sudden influx of such junk mail at the time when there was a management opening seemed too coincidental, but I couldn't accept the fact that someone would make such an effort to drive me crazy. The sudden influx of executive materials was similar to when I was appointed Assistant Professor at the U. of Florida. At that time I became inundated with free books and all sorts of instructor teaching aids. The difference was that the teaching aids and book offers corresponded to my actually being appointed Assistant Professor.

However absurd, the suggestions kept on coming that I was going to be a manager. One morning I came into my office and found a security violation notice on a a file cabinet. Security personnel would routinely check offices at night to make sure everything was locked. If a violation was found, they left you a notice of the security violation and then they would send a copy to your manager. In this instance, both the employees copy and the manager's copy were left on the cabinet. My first thought was that it was another subtle suggestion about the management job, but then the more I thought about it the more I rationalized that the security guard probably inadvertently left me the manager's copy.

Three days later I walked into my office and found my new office partner loudly complaining about a security violation he had just received. The violation notice had been marked "desk open", but the actual violation had been my file cabinet which had been unlocked again.

"Did they leave you the manager's copy?" I asked.

"No, but I'm going to try to get this changed because it is your violation", my office partner replied.

"Oh, if you do that, that will be the second security violation for me this week. I don't understand it. I could have sworn I locked that file cabinet last night." I said in a pleading voice.

In my confused state I really wasn't that positive, but the two violations in three days seemed strange. I sat down at my desk, unlocked it, and opened the top right drawer to get some papers on which to work. There, laying on the top of everything was the MANAGER'S COPY of my office partner's security violation! I started to cry. I couldn't even begin to figure how "they" had coordinated everything, but my receiving the manager's copy was no accident. The effect on me was devastating.

NOTE: Most amerikans have no idea how mind control works, but an essential element is that the victims continually hear the same message over and over again in different forms. The mantra is repeated incessantly until the victims believe what they are being told and accept it as "truth". One of those mantras heard by the general public is that "reducing taxes", especially on the wealthy, is a cure for all sorts of economic and political problems. That is all the public ever hears and many people automatically just accept it as a "truth". There is no thought involved.
In my case, I was continually being told I was going to be made a manager by suggestion(another key element of mind control)in an effort to get me to believe it. Then when I wasn't made manager, I could be told I was crazy for thinking I was going to be made a manager. It was a constant mind game to drive me permanently insane.

Depression follows constant harassment.
One of the things that always bothered me about my captors and tormentors is that like Darth Korey, these people really believed that they were geniuses, and superior people to the common workers like me. In reality, what they were doing to me with their mind games in their effort to make me crazy was really no different than what you might see in some B movie where the relatives of a rich aunt try to drive her crazy by arrangeing events in her life. You know, the scene where the aunt walks in a room and sees a body hanging from the chandilier. She then runs screaming from the room to get help and when she returns with witnesses, the body is gone! Then the people around her tell how sick she is and that she needs help and should be confined to a hospitial. Eventually, the rich aunt starts to believe that there is something wrong with her and that she needs help. The whole idea of driving me crazy was not very original and only required my inprisonment to carry out the scheme.

Back to my story:

I continued to get more and more depressed and I felt less and less anxious about events. I felt I had been terrorized so much that my body no longer reacted to the external stimulus and threats in a defensive manner, but rather everything just caused me to become more depressed. As an example, one evening I was running around our housing development for exercise when a large black dog came out of nowhere and ran straight at me with its teeth showing and barking loudly. I came to a slow stop and stared at the dog who quickly retreated and then I continued on my way. As I continued on my way, I realized that the dog attack had not caused any reaction in me. I had felt no fear, no adrenalin rush and no I had no made any attempt to protect myself. I was just dead inside! Maybe my total lack of fear is why the dog cut off its attack so quickly.

In late October Dr. Iron finally prescribed an antidepressant. When he gave me the prescription, I remarked that he had waited so long that I was so depressed I didn't think the pills would do any good. He gave me some lame excuse for not giving the pills earlier, but in reality he had no good reason for waiting so long. My unhappiness over the inability to get proper treatment was slowly turning into hostility and I was beginning to express my anger toward Dr. Iron. I would have readily found a new doctor if I thought it would have done any good, but I knew the Nazi government controlled everything and the results would be the same regardless of who the doctor was. (I will relate later an incident which clearly demonstrates the extent to which the Nazi goverment monitored and controlled everything in my life).

As soon as I went on the antidepressants, the level of harassment went down at work, and natually my spirits picked up a little. Dr. Iron used my slight improvement as proof that the medication was helping treat my "illness". I was convinced that I was merely reponding to my environment, and that if the level of harassment increased again, my condition would deteriorate again. (Being a scientist, I later devised an experiment that demonstrated that my version of events was correct.) About two weeks later the level of harassment at work did pick up, and I became deeply depressed. Dr. Iron in response to my increasedf depression concluded he had used the wrong antidepressant.

A trip to a gestap agency - The FBI
In early November I came to the conclusion that "they" were never going to stop terrorizing me, and I had to do something or I was going to die. I decided to go to the FBI(a gestapo agency)despite previous threats that had been made to me at RAM about going to the FBI. The next day after Anita had left for school, I called into work and said I was sick. Then I drove across the river to Oldburg, NJ where the local FBI office was located. I called the FBI from a pay phone to get its exact location and headed directly for the office to see an agent.

I was greeted at the door by agent Bill Blue who then escorted me into his office. We chatted briefly and I found out that agent Blue had a son who worked for RAM. He also informed me that he himself was due to retire from the agency in about a year. I could not see a man in his position being very enthusiastic about what I was going to tell him. I briefly decribed my situation to him while he took notes. He asked me some leading questions that indicated either he had heard the story many times before, or that he knew what I was going to say. Whatever the reason behind agent Blue's questions, they made me feel uncomfortable.

Years later I found out that what was being done to me is not uncommon in Nazi amerika, but that of course, the government keeps it hidden from the people by getting rid of the witnesses. There are a few exceptions like the Karen Silkwood case, but most of us political prisoners just disappear.

On a couple of occasions Agent Blue did say, "Yes, that is definitely illegal, but can you prove it." I told him I had very little written evidence, but that I did have some. When he asked me for a specific example of how I was being harassed, I quickly pointed out the most visible example - the annoying incessant phone calls. He surprised me by saying there was nothing illegal about that! I learned from the phone company that such calls are definitely a violation of FEDERAL Law. Agent Blue's ignorance on that subject was at best suspicious. After about 2 hours of talking with Agent Blue, the discussion concluded with the old "don't call us; we'll call you." I left not felling very encouraged.

How all psychiatrists should be dealt with.
That evening I attended my biweekly session with Dr. Iron. Anita decided to go along because she was beginning to get concerned about his "treatment" of me.

Dr. Iron started immediately. "What did you do today?"

"Oh nothing much," I said. "I cleaned out the garage."

"Is that all?" He asked.

"Yes, that's about all I did today."

His insistence told me he knew I had been to the FBI, but I didn't know how he knew.

"I got a call from agent Blue of the FBI today. Do you know him? Dr. Iron inquired.

"Yes, I went to see him today!"

Anita just about fell off the couch at the revelation, and Dr. Iron noticed her shocked reaction.

"Didn't he tell you he was going to the FBI?" Dr. Iron queried.

"No." Anita answered nervously.

Dr. Iron sat back and continued. "Don't worry. I took care of that. Agent Blue and I had a nice long talk, and I explained to him that Russell has a problem." Then he turned to me and said, "Do you know he has a son who works for RAM?"

"Yes, I know," I said discouragingly.

"Now that we don't have to worry about that anymore, let's go on to something else." He concluded.
It is funny what being tortured does to you. I should have killed the bastard on the spot. Not only was he helping the Nazis murder me, but he was threatening my wife. This is why I truly believe all psychiatrists should be rounded up, taken to the town square and executed. It is so convenient and easy for the Nazi state to label anyone speaking the truth about this Nazi state to be labelled "crazy" by these willing pawns of the tyrants. And, they carry out barbaric and antihuman experiments on people, like Dr. Cameron did for the CIA. Pyschiatrists are truly a sick group!!!!!

In defense of the few decent, ethical psychiatrists, later in my life I did talk to one who was trying to expose the Nazi governments use of the label "mentally ill" to
cover up the amerikan governments crimes against humanity.

And if you ever saw the movie "The Insider" you will learn how the FBI tried to make Jeffery Weingart the villian when he went to the FBI for help with a problem similar to mine. As most poor people already know, gestapo agencies like the FBI, CIA and NSA are just there to protect the interests of the elite, wealthy ruling class. They are not there to solve crimes and bring criminals to justice.

The Nazis now had their perfect cover.
I found this interesting article about a man who claims the Nazis controlled everything in his life while in the US. He also claimed to have been mentally tortured. REALLY. The US Nazi government would do that?
"Iranian scientist Shahram Amiri, who disappeared last year and resurfaced last week in the Pakistani embassy, claims the CIA kidnapped and tortured him mentally and physically.

He recently flew back to Tehran and told reporters, "The Americans wanted me to say that I defected to America of my own will to use me for revealing some false information about Iran's nuclear work. But with God's will, I resisted." He denies being involved in Iran's nuclear program and contends he was working as a researcher at a university.

He also claims, "I have some documents proving that I've not been free in the United States and have always been under the control of armed agents of US intelligence services."

Back to my story:

I left Dr. Iron's home feeling crushed again. I knew that it was unlikely the FBI would take any action against RAM, but the ease with which my complaint was dismissed was depressing and for the first time I began to seriously consider the government as the real source of my problems. I had often suspected that, but now I was certain. Agent Blue seemed like he had been briefed prior to my arrival at his office, and his apparent acceptance of my "mental illness problems" seemed to pat.

My "mental illness" had been so well documented and supported over such a long period of time that it could now be used as an excuse for anything. My mental illness had been made real through official documentation. Of course, that was the original plan that I agreed to in order to keep my career, but as usual, as soon as the subhuman scum Nazis got what they wanted, they went on with their agenda to totally eliminate me. The "mental illness" scenario could be used as an excuse for anything such as my loss of job, divorce and/or my death. The amerikan Nazis government was now in position to finish me off and wipe their bloody hands clean of trial rigging, torture and murder. But because the Nazis are servants of evil there was one thing that they did not count on.

The Rage Grows
My depression continued to grow despite the antidepressant pills. I was becoming more angry and violent prone each day because of my inability to stop my tormentors. Finally one night as I was getting ready for bed I exploded and started yelling at Anita.

"Damn them! They'll never stop torturing me! They will just keep it up until they kill me. Who the hell is behind it?! Who has that much power and is so sick that they would torture someone for over four years?"

Anita was frightened by my rage and she said nothing. Then I turned to her. "You know who is responsible for this. Tell me who it is. I'll kill the son-of-a bitches."

"I don't know what you are talking about," Anita replied timidly.

I became furious and pushed her onto the bed. I was standing over her and yelling, "tell me who it is. You know because you've been helping them. You have to talk to someone," I screamed.

Anita started pleading with me. "I don't know who "they" are. I really don't. Please let me up. I'm scared."

I calmed down long enough to let her up. Then the realization of how violent I was becoming became evident to me and I became concerned for Anita's safety. I calmed down long enough to let he up.

"Maybe I should get a place to stay for awhile so I'm alone and won't hurt anyone." I said in a calm voice.

"Where would you go?" Anita asked.

"I don't know. I can find a room or something until the holidays are over. You know how they like to terrorize me around Christmas. That's part of the scenario they use. If "they" hold true to form, things will improve in January. I can find a place until then."

"Why don't you go to the hospital?" Anita suggested. That comment made me angry again.

"Is that what the high level of harassment is for this time? To get me back in the hospital around the holidays so they can document my illness more and tell me how sick I am?"

NOTE: As I pointed out in previous posts, terrorism is most effective when the source of the terrorism is unknown to the victim. When the terrorists are unidentified, the victim can't stike back directly at the terrorists nor can the victim take actions to defend themselves. In my case, if I had known early on that the amerikan Nazi government was involved, I might have considered moving out of the country as one of the best and first solutions. It was my indoctrinated belief in the lies about the americkan system that kept me here senselessly trying to defuse the situation.

In my previous blog I noted the story about the Iranian scientist who had been kidnapped or lured to the US and then mentally tortured to get him to publically state what the Nazis wanted him to say about the Iranian nuclear program. And all the while he was here, everything was controlled by his captors.

Compare this to what was done to me. I was lured to a position and promised many things initally to keep me there, I was brutally mentally torture so my captors could program my testimony for a Federal trial. And to this day, my captors totally control my environment.

What is most interesting about this is that the Iranian scientist was to be used to do damage to a country identified as an enemy state. I was an amerikan scientist was to be used by the ruling fascists for the ruling elite against the interests of the working class - this is commonly referred to class warfare.

In other words torture is just another useful tool to be used by the Nazi state against anyone for any reason!

Isolated again We continued to discuss the best solution for the immediate problem and finally we decided Anita would move out and would go live with a friend from school until the crisis was over. That would insure her safety and cause the least problems for both of us. The next day Anita packed her books and clothes and left. She left me a phone number where I could reach her, but I did not know where she was going.

That weekend I took our dog to my parents place and left her there. I so afraid that because of the Nazi torture at the holidays that I might go into a fit of rage, kick her and hurt her. I wanted Nuisance, my dog to be safe. I barely talked to my parents because I didn't know what to say. I was being tortured and there was nothingh my parents could do about it.

I left on Sunday evening and headed back home. That evening I got several harassing phone calls where the party on the other end hung up when I answered the phone. In anger I jerked the phone jack out of the wall to stop the calls. I was totally isolated from the outside world. I concluded from the calls they wouldn't stop harassing and terrorizing me until "they" had killed me.

The strange thing about all of this is that the Nazis had all that they needed. They had my signed deposition which could be(and eventually would be) used in their patent infringement lawsuit, and they had a documented history of mental illness to negate anything I might say. But the amerikan Nazis were(and always will be) driven by an insane, obsessive hatred and nothing would extinguish that hatred. I believe that even my death would not have satisfied them. Their obsessive hatred towards me was like that of Hitler's toward the Jews. I was to blame for all of the Nazis problems just like the Jews were to blame for Germany's and his problems. Isn't that always the case for irresponsible people - it's someone elses fault. "The fault is not in the heavens and stars......."

Every day was living hell, and the next week I struggled through each day. I was so depressed I did nothing except eat and sleep. My behavior behavior was becoming more irrational. One evening I went out to a local lounge and went dancing. First, when I was dancing with other women, I got a sense of getting even with Anita for the hell she had helped make out of my life. Second, doing something random like going out danceing, I felt free and non-threatened. On Saturday I took two hundred dollars and went to the race track and lost it all. I had never lost more than about twenty dollars at the track, but the large monetary loss had no meaning to me if I was a dead man anyway. On Sunday I drove up to my parents house to get Nuisance. I missed having her around the house and I wanted her back. However, my parents argued against the idea and I returned home alone. When I got home, I called Anita on the repaired phone and started crying.

Still some want the world to bow to them!
"For what is a man profited if he shall gain the whole world and lose his own soul?"
Matthew 16:25-26.The ruling Nazis may go to church and align themselves with Christianity, but there is no way these people are true Christians.

On January 5, 1981 I returned to work. The RAM medical department approved the plan Dr. Padua submitted which called for my working four hours a day for one week followed by a week at six hours a day before I returned to a normal work day. It really didn't matter. After 5 years of brutal mental torture, I would have needed a year of rest to regain my mental and physical health. I was mentally in very bad shape and my only concern on returning to work was that there would be no more harassment. My mental state was very so delicate that I felt any more torture would cause a complete collapse, breakdown or suicide. I came into work and hung my coat and hat on the wall hanger and then went into the laboratory to check the condition of my lab equipment. About an hour later I returned to my office to find my coat on the floor. My hat was still on the wall hook and since the hanger was a single hook, it was impossible for the coat to fall off the hook with the hat hanging over it. I started to tremble and cry. I put on my coat and hat and rushed out of the building to my car and drove home. When I got home, Anita was there and I tried to tell her what had happened, but I was so upset that I wasn't very coherent. Finally, when I was able to get my composure, I told her what had happened. At first she tried to rationalize the incident as an accident, but she quickly realized how absurd her arguments were and then she tried to comfort me. I remained home the rest of the day.

The next day I went into work with greater apprehension. As I walked into the office, there standing in the middle of the room blocking everything was a free-standing coat rack. I quickly took the coat rack and carried it to an adjacent office where I deposited it. I then went back to my desk to try to do some work, but that one incident had ruined my day.

For the next couple of months I remained very depressed and did very little work. The side effects of the medication I was taking were becoming intolerable. One day at work I experienced a minor convulsion similar to the one I had experienced in the hospital. At that point I decided to stop taking the Stelazine medication. The fact that I was on Stelazine the first time when I was terrorized into attempting suicide told me that the medication was useless as long as the external stimuli was there.

The antidepressant I was taking was causing blurry vision and severe constipation. Thus I also quit taking that medication. I believed if the terrorism/mental torture ever stopped and I could find a doctor who really wanted to help me, I would take the appropriate medication.

A natural loss in my life vs a Nazi government created loss.
With everything going so badly, it only seemed appropriate that Nuisance became very sick. Whenever I would get down or needed some solitude, I would take Nuisance for a walk. It always had a soothing effect on me, but in March, 1981 she became sick from what the vetrinarian diagnosed as cancer of the liver. Her health deteriorated rapidly and on April 8 she had to be destroyed. We had owned Nuisance for fourteen years and her death was a great loss. In a normal situation I would have been sad, but my built up anger made it impossible for me to grieve the loss of our pet. What made me even more angry was that I was being tortured so much that I couldn't really feel the loss of something that meant so much to me. In effect, I had become a bit like my torturers in that I couldn't feel things. As I will show later on, my tormentors tried to get me to do despicable acts(sometimes with success), just to convince themselves that all humans are subhuman scum like they are. I think it made them feel good to make their victims act in a base manner like them.
Of course, no one was brutally torturing them; a point that I'm sure escaped them.

The constant harassment and torture had so dominated my life that nothing else seemed important. But with the loss of Nuisance I lost one of the few comforting things in my life that I was still able to enjoy.

I continued to see Dr. Padua, but I was becoming more and more disenchanted with her. Like her predecessors she talked in generalities and whenever I tried to address a specific incident or issue she would sidmiss it as if the topic were trivial. We frequently discussed my wife and Dr. Padua would quickly point out that I should be happy because Anita would soon be going back to work at a higher salary.

"They will never allow me to share in her income. I can't look forward to that," I explained. I don't even know if I'll have a marriage six months from now."

"Why you have lots to look forward to," was her reply.

I knew "they" would not allow me the luxury of having economic relief in the form of two good incomes, and I assumed their solution would be to destroy the marriage to keep me from having the security of my wife's income. But any attempt to carry our a discussion like that would have brought an immediate, "There is no one trying to destroy you."

I just heard on TV tonight that China has a new weapon that can wipe out an amerikan aircraft carrier from long range. I guess there is "good news" if you look for it. Such a weapon if it exists would cancel amerika's domination and terror on the high seas. However, this was on FOX news so it may just be Nazi propaganda designed to keep amerikans in a state of fear and war mongering.

Most amerikans don't realize that the Nazi state uses the media for what they call "misinformation campaigns". That term is a euphemism for PROPAGANDA. In rare cases, the President(RR for one) has had to admit that threats by foreign entities that were propagaded by the media were nothing more than misinformation campaigns.

As my marriage drifts to a close.
By June 1981, I had already sensed another increase in incidences in involving my wife and actions seemed to be directed towards creating animosity between us. I felt there were times when Ursula would start fights or do something just to irritate me and get my emotions flowing. I decided to take Anita with me to the next doctors appointment and address the problem with Dr. Padua. I stated my case and then discussed the issues with Anita. Anita agreed to try not to irritate me so often. I sat there almost laughing at the whole procedure. I believed Anita's actions were deliberate and that she would do whatever "they" told her to do, but to make any suggestion like that would only provide a platform for the doctor to tell how paranoid I was. The following week Anita seemed to do more irritating things than usual as if to flaunt the whole uselessness of going to the psychiatrist to solve my problems. The dissolution of our marriage seemed inevitable.

I lived in a constant state of depression. I was unable to work and I could have been fired for poor job performance at any time. What I didn't realize was that the Nazis wanted me to resign like I did at Gamma Supplies. That would make it clean and simple; it would be my fault. It also appeared that another reason not to fire me was that the Nazis would lose total control of my environment. I was really nothing more that a paid prisoner. And every time I began to pull myself out of the deep depression, some action would be taken that had a crushing effect on me.

Finally, in late June 19881 I decided to strike back again. This time I wanted to do something that would effect other people. I drafted a short letter describing my ordeal since my departure from Gamma Supplies. I then stated that I had no future and would probably be dead in the near future. I then thanked the addressee for his or her participation in the destruction of my life. I found an old mailing list of Gamma Supplies' employees and sent a copy of the letter to everyone on the list. Since the Gamma Supplies' employees had started the destruction of my life for their benefit, I wanted to make sure they knew the final results. But the real motivation came in knowing that "they" didn't want anyone to know anymore about their nefarious, sick deeds than was necessary and updating the Gamma Supplies' employees on my status was sure to irritate them.
I mailed the letters immediately to prevent Anita from finding out about them.

I mean let's face it; if you were as sick and twisted as "they" are, would you want other people to know it? I mean a serial killer doesn't go around broadcasting that he is a serial killer. And as I will demonstrate in a later post, my torturers have the same mentality as serial killers.

Several days later I was in the laboratory when Laura Bushell my new second level manager, Tim Kristofferson walked in.

"We have an emergency in the medical department and we have to go over there right away." Time said.

Note: If you read and learn about mental torture and terrorism, you will learn that the evil doers always try to separate the victim from the torturers as quickly as possible. It is an "out of sight, out of mind" practice. In this case the terrorists at Gamma Supplies could enjoy the fruits of their demented acts without actually seeing what had happened to the victims. It the same idea as pilots and bombers who bomb hospitals and villages with children. They don't see the victims and therefore their is no remorse or internal moral conflict. That is why the psychotic Nazi torturers always moved me about and removed me from areas where the acts had been committed. Sane people would wonder why a human mind would think that way and act that way against innocent, defenseless victims. But in their psychopathic minds, "they" always have a good reason for their actions.

Another Day, Another Crisis
"What's going on?" I asked.

"Never mind. Just stop whatever you're doing and come with us."

I followed them to the medical department. After a short wait, I saw the company doctor.

"We got a call from a Gamma Supplies employee. Apparently you sent him some sort of note, and he thought you were suicidal so he called us." He explained.

"So that is what this is all about," I said somewhat relieved.

The doctor continued. "We called your wife(always beneficial to involve the wife) and she made an appointment to see Dr. Padua immediately. You are to go to the St. Frances Hospital and see Dr. Padua right away."

With that brief explanation, I was escorted to the door. As I drove to St. Francis, I kept thinking about how I was going to be confined to the hospital again. Suicidal tendencies is grounds for involuntary confinement. My fears were not realized, but Dr. Padua argued strongly for voluntary confinement so she could "treat" me. I refused to go in voluntarily and she finally relented. As I was leaving her office she asked, "Why did you send the letter?"

"Maybe I was trying to raise the level of some people's conscience. Not everyone is a psychopath, you know."

Dr. Padua just gave me a dirty look. I had survived another crisis.

NOTE: One of the common questions asked me is why would ordinary people do these things to you? My wife is a good example of, "why would she do it?" The answer can be found in the famous studies of Dr. Stanley Millgram titled "Obedience to Authority." Dr. Millgram and others showed that people will do whatever they are told to do as long as someone who is recognized as an authority figure gives the command. The common reaction to that statement is "I wouldn't do that." But the truth is you would, especially if your family, kids, career and other things you value can be destroyed by the authority figure. For real life examples of this you can read about the previous Nazi empire in "Hitler's Willing Executioners: Ordinary Germans and the Holocaust" - by Daniel Jonah Goldhagen. This shows the evil that lurks in all of us and it demonstrates how political movements and agendas, such as the current right-wing nationalistic movement in the U.S. can bring the evil to the surface. I just read today where some church wants to hold a book burning event and burn the Koran(Quran). While these people may be a minority, they still are potentially Hilter's willing executioners

More Nazi Terrorism.
There were more department changes at work, and Jim Connors was officially announced as a second level manager. At the same time, Jim was also made the acting first level manager of a newly created department. Since Jim was serving as both first and second level manager, it meant that he would be seeking a new manager to take over his first level duties. Just the thought of a management opening caused me to become depressed because I knew their would be more suggestions and implied promises that would be made to me about the new manager of the department. I knew I couldn't go through that scenario again. The only thing that kept me going was the hope that "they", the sick bastards that they are, would get tired of mentally torturing me and my life would return to a normal state.

I was extremely depressed and becoming suicidal again. The harassment was daily and there was at least one episode per day. I had no social life and no contact with anyone outside of work other than Anita. In fact, I was totally surprised one day when one of my co-workers, John came into my office and hand delivered a notice for a professional meeting to be held the following week.

"I haven't been getting these notices lately," I commented.

"Well, this should be a pretty good meeting. The speaker is excellent." John replied.

"I thought you usually mailed these notices. What happened? Did you run out of stamps?"

"No, we just got the notice printed too late to mail them so I'm hand deliverying them," John answered.

I didn't think much more about it and went back to work. Later that day before I left the office, I went to check my mail. There in my mailbox was the same meeting notice with a cancelled stamp. The notices had been mailed as usual. I was just another one of those inconsistncies that were common in my life. Such incidences created further depression and made it impossible for me to believe even the most trivial things people said to me. And of course, relating such an event would make me look paranoid.

I had been harassed so long by annoying phone calls that I was now afraid to answer the phone. Most of the time I would just let the phone ring. But now I noticed a new phenomenon. Whenever I picked up the phone to make a call, the dial tone caused me to have a severe reaction. The buzzing sound caused me to become fearful and my adrenalin would begin to flow. After years of answering the phone and only hearing a dial tone, I was conditioned and sensitized to the point that the mere sound of the dial tone caused a reaction.

That evening, I conveyed my new awarness of my reaction to the dial tone to my wife. As usual, she said nothing. However, the next day at work the phone rang and I decided to answer it. This time there was no one on the other end of the line, but instead of the usual dial tone, there was complete silence. From then on, whenever I did answer the phone and the party hung up, instead of a dial tone, there was silence. Again there was the implied participation of my wife, but there was nothing that I could prove. In addition, in my highly confused state, I tried to think of some reason for the change. I was too mentally screwed up to just accept it as continued harassment and terrorism.

More about which to get depressed.
I began to notice that everyone around me seemed to be getting smarter! This was most noticeable when I talked with Pat Clover, my former manager. I had always considered Pat to be rather slow and he did not have great verbal fluency. However, now when I talked with Pat, I was amazed at how alert and mentally sharp he seemed. It was like he was a new person. I found this true of other people too. What I didn't realize was that my own mental capacity was greatly diminished from all of the psychological and mental torture to which I had been subjected for so many years. This decrease in mental capability is common in cases of menticide(mental torture). At the time however, I interpretted this decrease in my own mental capacity as an increase in the mental capacity of the people around me. I found it depressing that I was intellectually inferior.

As I stated, loss of intellectual functioning is quit common in cases of mental torture and some studies have reported around a 50% decrease in other victims. In my case, the extreme loss of mental capacity was documented by my therapists. In February 1983, after I had left the RAM environment, I was given a simple psychiatric evaluation. During that particular evaluation, I could not repeat in sequence 5 single digits that had been read to me. I had been give the same test in the fall of 1978, shortly after joining RAM. At that time I was able to repeat 11 digits FORWARD AND BACKWARDS after the digits had been read to me. I may have been able to do more, but the tester stoppedf at 11 digits when he decided there was nothing wrong with my intellect. The average person can repeat 7 digits FORWARD (a telephone number) and 5 digits backwards. The test results of going from 11 digits backwards to not being able to do 5 digits forward clearly demonstrate how brutally I had been tortured. That is why I say "God damn amerika". Fortunately, one's mental capacity slowly returns at least to some degree when the victims is free from constant brutal torture.

Just when things seemed their worst, improvements in my environment occurred. First I was given a performance appraisal. I went into the meeting with great apprehension because I knew I had not done any significant work in the past six months. Whatever performance rating I received, I knew it would be what "they" wanted it to be. Laurie Bushell, one of my many former managers, gave me the performance review and to my surprise, she gave me a rating which stated I "consistenly exceeded the requirements of the job in all key areas." Even though the rating was phoney, I was thrilled. Not only did the rating mean I would not be fired, but the rating also had to be approved by my current manager Jim Connors, since he was Laurie's second level manager too. Thus according to the rules at RAM, I was safe for another year. Although I knew I was never truly safe, it meant that "they" were not ready to get rid of me yet.

What makes people have insatiable hatred? Are they insecure? Hate themselves?

2010-08-08T14:07:00.000-07:00

Sabotage at work.

For the first time in three years, there were no suggestions or implications that I would be fired from my job at Christmas time. Anita had returned home, but she was so busy catching up on her school work that she barely had time to speak to me. There was still some harassment at work but the level was low and the harassing phone calls had been reduced to 2 or 3 a day. I wasn't too surprised because first this was suppose to be the "low" period following the "high" I experienced at the photo conference and second, Anita was too busy and was still recovering from her operation to be of much use in terrorizing me. For a change, my life was relatively calm and in a couple of weeks, I was scheduled to leave Naziland for awhile.

I continued to take the Haldol medication, and of course Dr. Iron attributed my improved state of mind to the drug. I will relate at a later time when my improved condition was suppose to be a result of new medication that unknown to everyone else, I never took. But my environment did change to give me a change in my mental state.

As I expected, with the relative calm there was an increasing tendency for me to become very depressed. I asked Dr. Iron to give me some antidepressants, but he refused. Remember, I had tried to get my mother's unused antidepressants in anticipation of the onset of depression. Of course the insane Nazis still were convinced they could convince me that I was crazy.

The orchestrated events at work took a new twist. Incidences became more subtle and seemed designed to destroy my last area of real confidence which was my ability to do my job. Throughout all of the terrorism and harassment, I was able to maintain a position of technical leadership and I performed my job well. It now seemed that area of self esteem was being attacked. The week before the Aruba trip I was busy trying to get som last minute results. I needed to us an instrument called nuclear magnetic resonance(NMR) which was located in the sister Polymer Technology group. The use of the instrument required special chemical which Osama kept under lock and key. I went and asked him if I cold use some of the chemicals. He gave me the chemicals which were used only in conjuction with the NMR, and I prepared my samples for use on the NMR the next day.

The next morning I went over to the Polymer Technology laboratory to use the NMR. As I walked in, I could see Osama's friend Hun Wong in the distance frantically working on the instrument as if he were making some major adjustments. I watched for a couple of minutes, and then as he finished, I stepped into an adjacent room where Hun could not see me as he left. After his departure, I went in and tried to use the NMR machine. The instrument was totally out of adjustment and was inoperable. I could see a couple of valves, which were not suppose to be touched, had been turned out of adjustment. Hun apparently had sabbotaged the instrument and had made it inoperable. I went directly to Hun's office.

"Hun, have you used the NMR lately," I asked.

"Yes, I used it last week. Why?" he responded.

"How was it working?"

"Fine, I got good results."

"Well, I just tried to use it and it's all out of alignment. I can't get any results." I snapped back.

Hun continued to express ignorance about the condition of the instrument and even offered to help me fix it. We went back into the laboratory. A few quick tests confirmed that the machine was inoperable and that a major adjustment would be needed to make the NMR operational again.

"That's funny," Hun said. "It worked fine for me last week. I guess we'll have to get a repairman in to fix it. I'll call him today. You weren't in a hurry for the results, were you?"

"Well, I'm leaving for vacation tomorrow," I answered. "So I guess the results will have to wait a couple of weeks.

I didn't tell Hun that I knew he was lying because if I had, he would have only given me some lame excuse and that would have infuriated me. What frightened me was I had just witnessed an attempt to block me from doing me job in a competent manner. It would not take much to stop me from functioning on the job with the depressed state I was in.

That evening I had an appointment with Dr. Iron. After we had chatted for awhile about my impending trip to Aruba, I related the NMR incident to him.

I finished by saying, "And now "they" are sabotoaging my work to destroy my confidence and then they will say I'm not doing a satisfactory job."

Dr. Iron listened and then said, "You're still that sensitive!"

Note: There would future incidences where events prevented me from doing my job which clearly demonstates that the above and future acts were not random but rather were well orchestrated attempts to make me perform poorly on the job.

Temporary Freedom from the Nazis. Something most amerikans could never understand.

Based on Dr. Iron's response, I no longer had to question whether or not he was trying to help me. He was aware of what was happening and he had no response; that is he was NO help. I was just glad to leave his office and to know that the next day I was leaving Naziland and the whole situation behind.

Anita and i departed JFK airport in a heavy snow storm and arrived in Aruba to sunshine and a balmy breeze. Anita and I loveD Aruba and I had my first truly enjoyable week in over two years. The were absolutely no strange incidences or harassing events. I FELT FREE for the first time in over four years. I had escaped my tormentors by leaving the United Nazi States. There was no apprehension or fear when I interacted with people, and if I struck up a conversation with someonE, they reciprocated in a friendly manner. The contrast to the behavior and actions of people compared to what I had become acustomed to in amerika was striking.

I still was very nervous and I attributed that to the Haldol I was still taking. At one point I was standing in our room when there was a loud bang. I reacted by twitching as if I had been give an electric shock. After that, I decided it was time to stop taking that medication.

As our vacation came to an end, I began to dread going back to RAM. Things had been so pleasant in Aruba without the daily incidences that I realized why I had enjoyed life so much before I had become a political prison in amerika. Thought of going back to the Naziland nightmare was almost more than I could stand. But, being poor, what choice did I have.

When I returned to RAM, no one talked to me about my vacation even though I had returned with a very dark tan and had been gone from work for a week. On of the rules I had learned to live with was that I was never allowed to talk about my personal life with other employees. I was especially forbiden to talk about my wife. If I attempted to do so, I was ignored or the person I was talking to would just walk away. The inability to share the joy over my vacation took a lot of enjoyment out of the whole experience. I quickly became depressed being back in my old surroundings.

The destruction of a person using the Nazis mental torture techniques is often referred to as "living death". Although you are physically alive, your life is really dead. I guess that is one reason the amerikan government loves it so much. The can "kill" the person without the problem of a corpse to explain. Then all they have to do is destroy the person's mind and he or she(rarely) will not be able to tell anyone about it to the people who should know - the amerikan working class.

The reason I was not allowed to talk about my personal life or my wife is that when the Nazi's set out to destroy a person, they have to make them a "nonperson". It is easier to torture someone who you do not consider a human being. And, by not allowing a mention of my wife, the sick, psychopaths remove the truth that there are other victims to their demented acts. And those others victims are obviously innocent of any "crimes". Even the lowlife Nazi scumbags couldn't make my wife look like a deserving recipient of pain and suffering at their hands. And any glimpse of the truth would make my captors and torments look despotic and psychotic.

Last night I was watching a detective/crime show and the detective was describing the criminal as a sociopath. The detective went on to say that a sociopath "has no remorse and believes the victim and their family are not entitled to any compensation for the damage done by the sociopath". I have been told that the scum that totally destroyed my life feel they have done no wrong(no remorse) and obviously I don't deserve any compensation for what they did. That is why I struggle to this day to survive and live on a below the poverty level income.

BUT WHAT IS IMPORTANT IS THAT THESE SAME PEOPLE ARE PART OF THE RULING ELITE MENTALITY IN THIS COUNTRY AND THAT IS THE PRIMARY REASON THIS SOCIETY IS CRUMBLING. THESE SOCIOPATHS ARE RUNNING AND RUINING THE COUNTRY. AND I DON'T MEAN THE REPUBLICANS AND THE DEMOCRATS, I MEAN THE RULING ELITE AND THEIR GESTAPO AGENCIES.

Democracy Passes Into Despotism!

I was becoming more and more depressed with time and the actions around me seemed designed to increase the depression. A new job assignment I was given was a basic research type of job which I dislike and which limited my interactions with other scientists. The increased isolation at work was both frustrating and depressing.

Despite the little interaction I had with people, I found that I was able to discern a difference. There seemed to be two groups of people among my co-workers. In my total paranoid state, I assumed everyone knew of my situation and conspired against me, but with passing time, I perceived that some people were unaware of what was being done to me. I decided to test my hunch.

One afternoon I walked into Moe Gilley's office and struck up a conversation. Moe had just transferred into the area and he had been uncharacteristically friendly and intereacted with me. As we talked, I started to relate my story to him about how I had been set up as a witness and then terrorized and how "they" tried to kill me when I refused to sign my deposition. Moe was shocked and sympathetic. He expressed his strong diapproval of such tactics. Not once did he say I was ill or that he didn't believe me.

As we talked, Don Slewowski who was in an adjacent office, barged in and demanded to see Marty immediately. Don took Moe into his office and spoke with him in private for about five minutes. When Moe came back, he was reluctant to talk to me, and as soon as I tried to talk about my experience, he walked away; Moe's reaction to me before and after the interruption by Don was like night and day. However, the episode convinced me that not everyone around me knew of my situation. Apparently "they" wanted as few workers as possible to know about how sick they were and for what amerika really stands!

Extremism In The Defense Of Fascism Is No Vice

In early 1980, my new manager Pat Clover came into my office and gave me a new assignment. He asked me to check out a new Japanese product and then told me to order the material and evaluate it. The assignment was the type that guaranteed some positive results and would stimulate discussion and interaction with other people. I was surprised but pleased that Perry had asked me to do the work. I enthusiastically got busy on the assignment and completed all the necissary paper work to order the material for evaluation. Several days later I received a call from the Site Chemical Coordinator.

"This is Jim Pounds in chemical safety," he said. "I just received your Hazzardous Materials Authorization(HMA) for some chemicals and I was wondering if you have the Material Safety Data Sheet(MSDS) too?"

"Why do you ask that?" I asked.

"Well the state law requires that I have MSDA before I order the chemicals."

"I've never had to have one before!" I replied.

"Well, It's the law and I can't order the chemicals until I have one," he snapped back.

I wasn't going to argue with him so I said, "fine; I'll get them."

I went directly to Pat and told him the situation. He said it was the law and that I should go ahead and do it. I called the company supplying the material I wanted and they said that they did not have a MSDS on the product and could not supply one, but they could supply a MSDS for each component chemical in the product. I said that would be adequate and gave them my mailing address.

I was still upset because I had ordered many chemicals without a MSDS. I checked around and found that none of my co-workers had needed a MSDS to order chemicals. I began to get suspicious. After all I and other workers in the department probably broke about 3-5 laws EVERY DAY to perform our jobs. As most americans are now learning, laws have no meaning in the every day functioning of large corporations. The laws are there for the little people. You just did your job. You never worried about the laws. For the selective enforcement of laws, all you have to do is look at the enforcement of immigration laws in Naziland. The ruling fascists only enforce the laws when it is convenient for them to do so. Selective enforcement of laws is only one of a myriad of reasons most american are upset with the ruling fascists.

About a week later I received the MSDS copies for the component chemicals and sent them to Mr. Bannura A couple of days later I got another call from Jim Pounds.

"This is Jim Pounds. Those MSDS copies you sent me are not adequate. I need the MSDS for the product."

"The company does not have one," I answered angrily. "What is what I sent you?"

"I need a MSDS for the product," he adamantly replied. "It's the state law!"

"I'll take care of it," I replied as I slammed down the phone.

I was angry. I went to Pat and told him of the situation. Perry back Jim Pound's position and refused to go to bat for me. I was angry that I had been frustrated again. I left Pat's office knowing I had failed to complete the assignment and that I could not do anything about it. I called Jim Pound one more time, but I made no progress. Pound was selectively enforcing a law to frustrate me.

Two days later I was walking down the hall when I happened to pass Klaus Closeau's office. There sitting on his desk in plain view were two bottles of the chmicals I had unsuccessfully tried to order. HOW CONVENIENT AND OBVIOUS. Klaus was in his office.

"Where did you get that?" I asked as I pointed to the bottles.

"Oh, they were sent to me," he calmly replied. "I guess I'll have to evaluate it. It is suppose to work pretty good."

"I tried to get that and Pounds stopped me because I couldn't get a MSDS," I said. "How did you manage?"

Klaus just shrugged his shoulders and didn't say anything.

I walked out of his office thinking about the planning and orchestration the whole incident had required. First I was lifted up by a challenging assignme and then I was frustrated by enforcing an unused law and finally I was made to feel like a failure by having someone else be successful at what I could not do. The whole incident was typical of events which went on daily in my life. The thing would have seemed "normal" except for the selective enforcement of the rule to frustrate me. Pat's failure to support me and Klaus' coincidental interest and success in obtaining the same chemicals would have been enough to make me suspicious. About a year later the problem of requiring MSDS did surface on a broader scale, but nothing was done about it and it just faded away. Other than this one exception, I did not encounter the MSDS rule the entire time I was at RAM.

Self Control versus Control of My Environment

Soon after the MSDS incident, there was an expansion in my area. A new department was formed with a new manager, and in keeping with the Nazi's policy of moving me around as much as possible, I was transferred to the new area. I think Pat was glad to get rid of me and the problems that went along with me. My new assignment meant little to me other than I would have a new manager. I was still very depressed, but I still foolishly hoped that I could save my future.

As part of my way to cope with all of the stress I was being subjected to, I began drinking heavily again. almost every evening I would come home and pour myself a couple of glasses of wine. By about seven P.M., I was totally drunk and all of the anger would come out. I would yell, swear and carry on until I was in such a fit of rage that I would smash a glass in the fireplace. On one occasion when Anita tried to argue with me, I became so enraged that I threw a glass through a picture window. That glass throwing incident cost me one hundred and fifty dollars for the repair. As time went on, I was getting drunk on the average about three of the five week day working nights.

The rants I would go on when I got drunk was always about how STUPID and SICK my tormentors had to be to set me up as a witness and then try to drive me insane or kill me by accident or suicide to cover up their stupidity and evilness. I just couldn't believe that the amerikan system was so corrupt as to support such evil. Of course, now days given the political and world events, such thoughts about not believing the evil of the amerikan system seems naive. But remember, this was 1980 and not present day. Most of the unrest that exists today is because most amerikans are losing their naivity about what they believe about amerika. And I laugh because I have spent the last 30 years trying to warn amerikans and they wouldn't listen. Now amerikans will learn the hard way.

Just when my drinking was becoming a real problem, the RAM medical department called me for the first time in almost eight months for a psychiatric follow up. This time I saw Dr. Cryer, who said I was doing fine, but he expressed concern about my excessive drinking. He just happened to inquire about by drinking habits during this particular interview. I told him I had not been a drinker in the past and that I could stop if I wanted to. He seemed to doubt that I could or would, but I assured him that I would stop.

The problem was that whenever I didn't express my anger I became depressed and when I stopped drinking and getting angry, I became very depressed. I was still seeing Dr. Iron every other week, and when I told him I had stopped drinking entirely he was amazed.

"Do you mean you have enough will power to just stop drinking?" he asked increduously.

"Sure, I have a lot of will power and drinking is something I have control over. I can't control my environment or the actions of the people around me. That's why I can't get better." I replied.

Dr. Iron didn't like my comment, but he was still surprised that I could stop consuming alcohol so abruptly after I had been drinking so much.

"Of course, now that I'm not drinking, I'm becoming more depressed. Can I have some antidepressants?"

Dr. Iron didn't hesitate. "No, you don't need them."

I believed Dr. Iron's refusal to give antidepressants was part of the plan to get me truly depressed and possibly suicidal again. There seemed to be no rational reason way someone as depressed as I was should not have been given antidepressants.

In retrospect, Dr. Iron's whole reaction and treatment of me reflects the really malevolent nature of Dr. Iron. He had fled the original German Nazis and now he seemed like he was determined to bring harm to other people to help the amerikan Nazis. I'll never know what his true motivation was but I don't believe it as a positive motivator. I guess he believed it was better to be the persecutor rather than be the person being persecuted.

More frustration

I decided the best way to keep my sanity was to bury myself in my work in mid-1980 I began directing all my efforts towards my research. Within a month the results were noticeable. I could tell by the length and quality of my monthy report that I had accomplished quit a bit. I felt good about my work and there seemed to be little that "they" could do to effect my research.

Then, a couple of days after I had handed in the lenghty report, a safety violation was found in my general working area and the laboratory was closed! The violation was trivial and could have easily been cleaned up. At first it was suppose to be for a few days, but when no progress was made after a week, I became suspicious. Interestingly, the only area of the laboratory to be shut down was the exact area that I worked in. I complained to management and wrote memos, but I was not given any new area to work. For a month I sat at my desk and did very little while the laboratory was closed. As I sat there doing nothing, I became more depressed and couldn't help but think that "they" had decided I was being too productive and that my work had to be stopped. A month later my section of the laboratory was reopened. The only real change that had occurred was in my diminished enthusiasm for my work.

Killing my enthusiasm for my work was a crushing blow and it made me angry. For the first time in a long while, I felt like fighting back. I knew the one thing the Nazis feared more than anything was the truth, and I was the only one who could and would tell the truth. Since I was concerned that as the years went by, and my mental health continued to deteriorate that I would be unable to recall what had happened I decided to keep another diary and document the happenings. I knew the diary could alway be stolen like the last one, but I believed that to steal the diary containing events occurring at RAM would be too strong of an implication of RAM's involvement. I would however, make an effort to protect the diary. I also wanted to my thoughts down in order to have some record of how I perceived events and how my emotions changed and were manipulated by by environment. Since I didn't want my beliefs and thoughts to be used to manipulate me even more than I was already being manipulated, I wanted to try to keep the diary in a secure place. With that in mind, I began to keep my second diary in late June, 1980.

Having the rug pulled out from beneath me.

I commented in the previous post that the amerikan Nazi government hates and fears the truth. They also hate justice. The two go hand in hand. Their hatred of justice can be seen almost every day with Nazi bombardments about how lawsuit settlements must be stopped or curbed. Remember, in the current BP oil "spill" the corporate liability in capped BY LAW to seventy five million dollars. Of course, lawsuits are about the only avenue the average amerikan has left to seek justice in this fascist system. The ruling amerikan nazis want to put and end to that avenue of justice. And, in a civil lawsuit the TRUTH just might emerge which goes back to my opening statement. I repeat: the ruling fascist elite hate truth and justice.

Back to my story:

I continued to be depressed and my anger was now limited to yelling sessions at my wife. One morning as I was getting dressed I began yelling about how my career had been destroyed and how I didn't have any vacation time because I kept taking days off when I was too depressed to go to work. I continued to harp on the vacation time as I left the house.

I had no more arrived at work and was sitting at my desk when my new manager, Laurie Bushell called.

"Good morning, Russ! How would you like to go to San Francisco for a week?" she asked.

"What do you mean?" I asked in a startled voice.

"Do you want to go to the ACS meeting in San Francisco at the end of August?"

"Sure." I answered. "What do I have to do?"

"Just write me a short request in memo form and you can go. It's all approved."

The timing of the call and my conversation with Anita that morning seemed very coincidental(a elipse or a circle!), but even without the coincidence, I was very skeptical that RAM was going to send me to San Francisco. Nevertheless I wrote the request as I had been instructed. That day I checked around and found that Osama and two other members from my area were going. I was also told that one of the people going had seen the "approved list" and that my name was indeed on the list. I still remained skeptical because when "they" wanted me to believe something "they" frequently supported what I was to believe with several confirming sources.

A couple of days later, Laurie called me and said I was also to go to RAM in San Jose the week prior to the ACS meeting. I was to attend a RAM review meeting with John Loser, who was my second level manager. Later, Laurie told I had to be in San Jose on August 28 and 29 because John was going to be there on those dates. I felt more and more that I was being toyed with. I had been promised trips to San Jose at least four different times in the past, but the trip was always cancelled at the last minute and I never got to go.

I decided to check with the receptionist who handled all flight arrangements in the department about John Loser's flight plans. She would know who was going to San Jose and "they" probably had not thought to cover up that end of the plan. Sure enough, John Loser had plans for a flight to San Jose on August 4th and was scheduled to return on August 6th. He had no other flights scheduled to San Jose in August. Despite my confirmed suspicions, I mad all the necessary arrangements and even change my own plans to get away for a few days just to accommodate the business trip. I was going to San Jose and San Francisco at the end of August.

In early August, the ACS meeting was moved to Las Vegas because of a hotel worker's strike in San Francisco. I knew this would give my Nazi tormentors an excuse to prohibit me from attending the meeting. Laurie immediately informed me that I probably could not attend the meeting because of the increase in cost. I sat down and calculated that it would cost a maximum of $43.00 more to go the Las Vegas/San Jose compared to the trip to San Francisco/San Jose. In RAM $43.00 isn't even noticed on an expense account - it's pocket change. I wrote a memo to the effect that the cost difference was minimal and offered to pay any difference in cost. On August twelfth, John Loser informed me the trip to Las Vegas/San Jose "could not be justified". When he told me, tears swelled in my eyes at the disappointment. As usual I had been made a promise and then it was pulled out from under me. Laurie said she would check with John again, but two days later the answer came back that I could not go.

Now everything would have seemed almost "normal" except that OSAMA and OTHER DEPARTMENT MEMBERS DID MAKE THE TRIP. No explaination was given as to why their trip was justified and mine was not.

Note added: In Amerika if you survive Nazi torture, you are still a political prisoner for life which means the Nazis keep you impoverished and still harass you. Now some 30 years later, it would appear the Nazis are still trying to stop me from taking a trip that I have planned. They don't get any sicker than the Amerikan ruling fascists.

Another No-Win or Psychological Double-Bind Situation

"The cost per day of the oil spill to BP so far has been $16 million. That number is dwarfed by the $66 million per day the firm made in profit in the first quarter of this year. Indeed, in 2009 BP's total profits were $14 billion. As CNN's Christine Romans notes, even if the cleanup costs were to rise to $14 billion, it would simply mean that BP went one year without make a profit, let alone losing money."

So why is it that the amerikan government decided that BP and other oil companies should have such a limited liability of only 75 million dollars TOTAL? Who will end up paying for the rest of the clean-up? YOU, the people of the working class. This is what fascism is: government and corporations that work together to the detriment of the working class - class warfare, a forbidden term in Nazi amerika. I am a victim of this facist system where government and corporations worked hand in hand to enrich corporate coffers at the expense of my marriage, family, career, friends and health. Some system, huh? The same amerikan system that you have been taught and are demanded to worship. WAKE UP AMERICANS!

Back to my story:

At home, my life was not any better. Our social life had all but disappeared when Anita came home one day and unexpectedly said we were invited to go to a barbecue at the Van Doren's on the weekend.

"Do you want to go?' she asked.

Anita knew I had frequently accused the Van Doren's of having drugged me on our another visit to their house and she and "they" must have expected a negative answer from me. Of course, this was a perfect psychological double-bind or a no win situation. Do I avoid contact with people who I greatly disliked or do I accept the only opportunity for social interaction? I assumed that was the reason for the invitation.

I thought for a moment and then said, "It'll be fun to socialize for a change. Sure I'll go."

Anita was taken back by my answer. "You will?!" She asked in disbelief.

"Sure." I answered. "I'm looking forward to it."

The invitation was a typical no win situation that Darth Korey mentioned my first few days at Gamma Supplies years before. Not that the destruction of my life was preplanned or that I would remember Darth mentioning that!!!!! Darth couldn't help but brag to and taunt his victims.

If I let my anger and hate dictate my decision and said no, then Anita and Dr. Iron could say I had no social life because of my "mental illness". If I said yes, I would put myself in a very unpleasant situation. No-win!

A couple of days went by and Anita didn't say anything more about the barbecue. I began to thinking she was hoping that I had forgotten about it. Since I wasn't going to let it slip by I brought up the subject.

"Are we still going to the barbecue Saturday?" I asked.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you. I called Jane today and she said they changed it to next weekend." Anita offered.

"OK. But don't forget it though. I really want to go." I replied.

I could tell Anita felt uncomfortable about my enthusiasm for attending the barbecue. By now, either Anita and/or "they" had expected me to turn down the offer, and now that I had accepted , the game became to find a way to keep me from attending.

Another week went by and again Anita said nothing. Finally on Friday I said, "Are we going to the barbecue tomorrow?" Anita was visibly annoyed by my insistence.

"Oh, they had to change it again. It is going to be in two weeks."

I knew I was never going to that barbecue, but I kept asking about it all summer. After two months of asking, the barbecue was cancelled until next summer. The whole incident had been a "no-win" situation for me.
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For those that don't remember, psychologists call no-win situations a psychological double-bind. Psychological double-binds are thought to be a major contributor to schizophrenic behavior. These no-win situations were a key element in the Nazis attempt to drive me permanently insane.

Different Day, SOS

In the sometimes war like situation that was created between Anita and me, we developed our own way of communicating to each other without saying anything. In one instance I was carrying on about being ostracised from society.

"Damn them!" I said. "They have people avoid me and terrorize me and they "they" have the psychiatrist say it's because I'm mentally ill. "They won't let anyone come in my house just like they did at Gamma Supplies. Maybe I should throw a party and invite everyone at work to come to the party. I wonder what "they" would do? How would "they" get out of that one? That's what I'm going to do. Tomorrow I'm going to invite everyone at work to a party here next weekend."

Anita was sitting on the couch and she just looked at me as if to say, "what are you trying to do? Get yourself killed?" She didn't have to say anything because I could see what she was thinking. She was right. No matter what I did, I was going to lose. The Nazi amerikan government/corporate state was going to destroy me or kill me no matter what I did. And without saying a word and with a single look, Anita had stopped my great idea.

At work, the organizational changes and growth in my area continued, and in September 1980 a new second level manager was named to replace John Loser. His new replacement Ed James was a seasoned RAM veteran and had been a manager in my technical area previously. As a result, I did anticipate any dramatic changes in my area.

Ed held the usual area meeting to introduce himself, and then he presented an organizational chart. As part of his new organization, he was creating a new department for which he announced he would be seeking a new manager. When he made the announcement, my heart sank because I knew "they" would try to get me to believe I was being considered for the job just as I was going to be the new "Technical Director" at Gamma Supplies. No matter how rediculous it sounded given my situation, "they" would try to get me to believe I was being considered for the job. As expected, during the next few weeks coworkers would comment that they heard I was being considered for the management job. Just the fact that suggestions(a key element in mental torture) were made caused me to become more depressed. Then in early October, I received a note in my mail that said Ed James wanted to meet with me. When I checked with the secretary she said it was a routine skip-level interview, and that the purpose was to acquaint Ed with his new personnel.

The Nazis always took every advantage to recreate situations that had happened at Gamma Supplies. It was part of the mind control conditioning that they were doing to create "permanent mental illness". Interestingly, last night there was a show on the Nazi government's gestapo agency, the CIA and their experiments in mind control and what they did to their victims in the '60s and '70s. Of course these experiments were illegal and their victims were US citizens living within the US boundaries. The experiments were described as barbaric and inhumane and worse than those carried out by the previous Nazi regime, Hitler's Germany. I was now a victim of those experimental results that were being put to practical real life use to destroy human life.

And the destruction of my life continues

2010-06-14T16:58:00.000-07:00

How A Normal Life Free of Nazi Terrorism Shines Through Briefly.

When I arrived home, I immediately callled the travel agent. Since the money we paid was not refundable within 10 days of departure, I was concerned about losing the money. The agent assured me that as long as a doctor would confirm Anita's condition, we would get our money refunded or we could reschedule the trip. I decided we definitely needed a vacation and rescheduled the trip for the first week in January. With that concern taken care of, I headed back to the hospital.

As I drove back, I thought about how smoothly everything had gone with the changes in the vacation plans. Nothing went smoothly like that for me . "They" always interferred or planned problems to cause me frustration. I realized that events had happened so spontaneously and rapidly that "they" didn't have the opportunity to intervene. What was strange was the fact that it was so very noticeable when events went smoothly and normally. The same was true with the happenings with Anita. Help arrived at the house quickly, the doctor and nurses at the hospital were prompt and courteous. There was no double talk or strange happenings - everything was normal! That was the point I always tried to point out to the Nazi psychiatrists. I could just tell when things were normal and when someone was interferring in my life. Throughout this events of this morning crisis, people were friendly, helpful and considerate. There was no Nazi government interferrence.

When I got back to the hospital, the doctor greeted me and told me that they had stopped the internal bleeding and that Anita should fine. The pysician was also visibly annoyed by the fact that I had not stayed at the hospital and waited while they operated. I could understand his view, but then he was not in my shoes. I had been mentally tortured so badly that I couldn't just sit during such a stressful situation.

Anita spent a week in the hospital recovering from the operation. She had been pregnant and the tubal pregnancy had ruptured. The good news was that she would be alright, but the bad new was that she could never have children since the other fallopian tube had been damaged in a previous operation. I tried to cheer her up by telling her that I had rescheduled the trip to Aruba, but the new of the lost baby really hurt Anita. She had been trying to get pregnant for so long and wanted a child so badly. There was little I could do besided visit her and try to cheer her up.

For me, a childless marriage was a blessing because of the Nazi government's presence in my life. I can only imagine how "they" would have used a baby/child in my life to make me miserable. But I do know those Nazi lowlife scumbags would have used any of my children against me in their attempts to destroy me. There is no way to fully describe the filth that these people are! And these are the powerbrokers that run amerika. Is there any wonder why this country is in the mess it is in? You know, things like "Drill Baby Drill" and the hell with the consequences!

The week Anita was in the hospital was hectic but less stressful. With her in the hospital and with the days off from work because of the Thanksgiving holiday, my life was relatively stress free. The abrupt change from the constant harassment of the Photo Conference incidences to the relative calm away from work and living alone was very noticeable. The peace and quiet of the situation gave me time to reflect on how good my life could be without the interference from the demented powerbrokers who had taken control of my life. I had a loving wife, good family and friends, a good job and a comfortable lifestyle. The only thing really wrong in my life was the acts of my tormentors and the constant threat of losing everything. And that constant fear and threat of having everything TAKEN from me by the the Nazi capitalist, fascist system was the fear that my tormentors used to constantly terrorize me. As I reflected on things, it became evident that even in less stressful times, I couldn't get my depressing situation off my mind. And may the Nazi bastards rot in hell and suffer miserably for what they did to me and my family.

Sabotage at work.

For the first time in three years, there were no suggestions or implications that I would be fired from my job at Christmas time. Anita had returned home, but she was so busy catching up on her school work that she barely had time to speak to me. There was still some harassment at work but the level was low and the harassing phone calls had been reduced to 2 or 3 a day. I wasn't too surprised because first this was suppose to be the "low" period following the "high" I experienced at the photo conference and second, Anita was too busy and was still recovering from her operation to be of much use in terrorizing me. For a change, my life was relatively calm and in a couple of weeks, I was scheduled to leave Naziland for awhile.

I continued to take the Haldol medication, and of course Dr. Iron attributed my improved state of mind to the drug. I will relate at a later time when my improved condition was suppose to be a result of new medication that unknown to everyone else, I never took. But my environment did change to give me a change in my mental state.

As I expected, with the relative calm there was an increasing tendency for me to become very depressed. I asked Dr. Iron to give me some antidepressants, but he refused. Remember, I had tried to get my mother's unused antidepressants in anticipation of the onset of depression. Of course the insane Nazis still were convinced they could convince me that I was crazy.

The orchestrated events at work took a new twist. Incidences became more subtle and seemed designed to destroy my last area of real confidence which was my ability to do my job. Throughout all of the terrorism and harassment, I was able to maintain a position of technical leadership and I performed my job well. It now seemed that area of self esteem was being attacked. The week before the Aruba trip I was busy trying to get som last minute results. I needed to us an instrument called nuclear magnetic resonance(NMR) which was located in the sister Polymer Technology group. The use of the instrument required special chemical which Osama kept under lock and key. I went and asked him if I cold use some of the chemicals. He gave me the chemicals which were used only in conjuction with the NMR, and I prepared my samples for use on the NMR the next day.

The next morning I went over to the Polymer Technology laboratory to use the NMR. As I walked in, I could see Osama's friend Hun Wong in the distance frantically working on the instrument as if he were making some major adjustments. I watched for a couple of minutes, and then as he finished, I stepped into an adjacent room where Hun could not see me as he left. After his departure, I went in and tried to use the NMR machine. The instrument was totally out of adjustment and was inoperable. I could see a couple of valves, which were not suppose to be touched, had been turned out of adjustment. Hun apparently had sabbotaged the instrument and had made it inoperable. I went directly to Hun's office.

"Hun, have you used the NMR lately," I asked.

"Yes, I used it last week. Why?" he responded.

"How was it working?"

"Fine, I got good results."

"Well, I just tried to use it and it's all out of alignment. I can't get any results." I snapped back.

Hun continued to express ignorance about the condition of the instrument and even offered to help me fix it. We went back into the laboratory. A few quick tests confirmed that the machine was inoperable and that a major adjustment would be needed to make the NMR operational again.

"That's funny," Hun said. "It worked fine for me last week. I guess we'll have to get a repairman in to fix it. I'll call him today. You weren't in a hurry for the results, were you?"

"Well, I'm leaving for vacation tomorrow," I answered. "So I guess the results will have to wait a couple of weeks.

I didn't tell Hun that I knew he was lying because if I had, he would have only given me some lame excuse and that would have infuriated me. What frightened me was I had just witnessed an attempt to block me from doing me job in a competent manner. It would not take much to stop me from functioning on the job with the depressed state I was in.

That evening I had an appointment with Dr. Iron. After we had chatted for awhile about my impending trip to Aruba, I related the NMR incident to him.

I finished by saying, "And now "they" are sabotoaging my work to destroy my confidence and then they will say I'm not doing a satisfactory job."

Dr. Iron listened and then said, "You're still that sensitive!"

Note: There would future incidences where events prevented me from doing my job which clearly demonstates that the above and future acts were not random but rather were well orchestrated attempts to make me perform poorly on the job.

Added Note: After 28 years out of the work environment, I recently started a part-time position in an office to supplement my income. After I was there for 3 days, one person in the office started with Nazi like attacks on me with the intent of driving out of the office. It seems extremely strange to me that I should just happen to run into a psycho by chance when returning to the work environment!!!!

Temporary Freedom from the Nazis. Something most amerikans could never understand.

Based on Dr. Iron's response, I no longer had to question whether or not he was trying to help me. He was aware of what was happening and he had no response; that is he was NO help. I was just glad to leave his office and to know that the next day I was leaving Naziland and the whole situation behind.

Anita and i departed JFK airport in a heavy snow storm and arrived in Aruba to sunshine and a balmy breeze. Anita and I loveD Aruba and I had my first truly enjoyable week in over two years. The were absolutely no strange incidences or harassing events. I FELT FREE for the first time in over four years. I had escaped my tormentors by leaving the United Nazi States. There was no apprehension or fear when I interacted with people, and if I struck up a conversation with someonE, they reciprocated in a friendly manner. The contrast to the behavior and actions of people compared to what I had become acustomed to in amerika was striking.

I still was very nervous and I attributed that to the Haldol I was still taking. At one point I was standing in our room when there was a loud bang. I reacted by twitching as if I had been give an electric shock. After that, I decided it was time to stop taking that medication.

As our vacation came to an end, I began to dread going back to RAM. Things had been so pleasant in Aruba without the daily incidences that I realized why I had enjoyed life so much before I had become a political prison in amerika. Thought of going back to the Naziland nightmare was almost more than I could stand. But, being poor, what choice did I have.

When I returned to RAM, no one talked to me about my vacation even though I had returned with a very dark tan and had been gone from work for a week. On of the rules I had learned to live with was that I was never allowed to talk about my personal life with other employees. I was especially forbiden to talk about my wife. If I attempted to do so, I was ignored or the person I was talking to would just walk away. The inability to share the joy over my vacation took a lot of enjoyment out of the whole experience. I quickly became depressed being back in my old surroundings.

The destruction of a person using the Nazis mental torture techniques is often referred to as "living death". Although you are physically alive, your life is really dead. I guess that is one reason the amerikan government loves it so much. The can "kill" the person without the problem of a corpse to explain. Then all they have to do is destroy the person's mind and he or she(rarely) will not be able to tell anyone about it to the people who should know - the amerikan working class.

The reason I was not allowed to talk about my personal life or my wife is that when the Nazi's set out to destroy a person, they have to make them a "nonperson". It is easier to torture someone who you do not consider a human being. And, by not allowing a mention of my wife, the sick, psychopaths remove the truth that there are other victims to their demented acts. And those others victims are obviously innocent of any "crimes". Even the lowlife Nazi scumbags couldn't make my wife look like a deserving recipient of pain and suffering at their hands. And any glimpse of the truth would make my captors and torments look despotic and psychotic.

Last night I was watching a detective/crime show and the detective was describing the criminal as a sociopath. The detective went on to say that a sociopath "has no remorse and believes the victim and their family are not entitled to any compensation for the damage done by the sociopath". I have been told that the scum that totally destroyed my life feel they have done no wrong(no remorse) and obviously I don't deserve any compensation for what they did. That is why I struggle to this day to survive and live on a below the poverty level income.

BUT WHAT IS IMPORTANT IS THAT THESE SAME PEOPLE ARE PART OF THE RULING ELITE MENTALITY IN THIS COUNTRY AND THAT IS THE PRIMARY REASON THIS SOCIETY IS CRUMBLING. THESE SOCIOPATHS ARE RUNNING AND RUINING THE COUNTRY. AND I DON'T MEAN THE REPUBLICANS AND THE DEMOCRATS, I MEAN THE RULING ELITE AND THEIR GESTAPO AGENCIES.

Democracy Passes Into Despotism!

I was becoming more and more depressed with time and the actions around me seemed designed to increase the depression. A new job assignment I was given was a basic research type of job which I dislike and which limited my interactions with other scientists. The increased isolation at work was both frustrating and depressing.

Despite the little interaction I had with people, I found that I was able to discern a difference. There seemed to be two groups of people among my co-workers. In my total paranoid state, I assumed everyone knew of my situation and conspired against me, but with passing time, I perceived that some people were unaware of what was being done to me. I decided to test my hunch.

One afternoon I walked into Moe Gilley's office and struck up a conversation. Moe had just transferred into the area and he had been uncharacteristically friendly and intereacted with me. As we talked, I started to relate my story to him about how I had been set up as a witness and then terrorized and how "they" tried to kill me when I refused to sign my deposition. Moe was shocked and sympathetic. He expressed his strong diapproval of such tactics. Not once did he say I was ill or that he didn't believe me.

As we talked, Don Slewowski who was in an adjacent office, barged in and demanded to see Marty immediately. Don took Moe into his office and spoke with him in private for about five minutes. When Moe came back, he was reluctant to talk to me, and as soon as I tried to talk about my experience, he walked away; Moe's reaction to me before and after the interruption by Don was like night and day. However, the episode convinced me that not everyone around me knew of my situation. Apparently "they" wanted as few workers as possible to know about how sick they were and for what amerika really stands!

Extremism In The Defense Of Fascism Is No Vice

In early 1980, my new manager Pat Clover came into my office and gave me a new assignment. He asked me to check out a new Japanese product and then told me to order the material and evaluate it. The assignment was the type that guaranteed some positive results and would stimulate discussion and interaction with other people. I was surprised but pleased that Perry had asked me to do the work. I enthusiastically got busy on the assignment and completed all the necissary paper work to order the material for evaluation. Several days later I received a call from the Site Chemical Coordinator.

"This is Jim Pounds in chemical safety," he said. "I just received your Hazzardous Materials Authorization(HMA) for some chemicals and I was wondering if you have the Material Safety Data Sheet(MSDS) too?"

"Why do you ask that?" I asked.

"Well the state law requires that I have MSDA before I order the chemicals."

"I've never had to have one before!" I replied.

"Well, It's the law and I can't order the chemicals until I have one," he snapped back.

I wasn't going to argue with him so I said, "fine; I'll get them."

I went directly to Pat and told him the situation. He said it was the law and that I should go ahead and do it. I called the company supplying the material I wanted and they said that they did not have a MSDS on the product and could not supply one, but they could supply a MSDS for each component chemical in the product. I said that would be adequate and gave them my mailing address.

I was still upset because I had ordered many chemicals without a MSDS. I checked around and found that none of my co-workers had needed a MSDS to order chemicals. I began to get suspicious. After all I and other workers in the department probably broke about 3-5 laws EVERY DAY to perform our jobs. As most americans are now learning, laws have no meaning in the every day functioning of large corporations. The laws are there for the little people. You just did your job. You never worried about the laws. For the selective enforcement of laws, all you have to do is look at the enforcement of immigration laws in Naziland. The ruling fascists only enforce the laws when it is convenient for them to do so. Selective enforcement of laws is only one of a myriad of reasons most american are upset with the ruling fascists.

About a week later I received the MSDS copies for the component chemicals and sent them to Mr. Bannura A couple of days later I got another call from Jim Pounds.

"This is Jim Pounds. Those MSDS copies you sent me are not adequate. I need the MSDS for the product."

"The company does not have one," I answered angrily. "What is what I sent you?"

"I need a MSDS for the product," he adamantly replied. "It's the state law!"

"I'll take care of it," I replied as I slammed down the phone.

I was angry. I went to Pat and told him of the situation. Perry back Jim Pound's position and refused to go to bat for me. I was angry that I had been frustrated again. I left Pat's office knowing I had failed to complete the assignment and that I could not do anything about it. I called Jim Pound one more time, but I made no progress. Pound was selectively enforcing a law to frustrate me.

Two days later I was walking down the hall when I happened to pass Klaus Closeau's office. There sitting on his desk in plain view were two bottles of the chmicals I had unsuccessfully tried to order. HOW CONVENIENT AND OBVIOUS. Klaus was in his office.

"Where did you get that?" I asked as I pointed to the bottles.

"Oh, they were sent to me," he calmly replied. "I guess I'll have to evaluate it. It is suppose to work pretty good."

"I tried to get that and Pounds stopped me because I couldn't get a MSDS," I said. "How did you manage?"

Klaus just shrugged his shoulders and didn't say anything.

I walked out of his office thinking about the planning and orchestration the whole incident had required. First I was lifted up by a challenging assignme and then I was frustrated by enforcing an unused law and finally I was made to feel like a failure by having someone else be successful at what I could not do. The whole incident was typical of events which went on daily in my life. The thing would have seemed "normal" except for the selective enforcement of the rule to frustrate me. Pat's failure to support me and Klaus' coincidental interest and success in obtaining the same chemicals would have been enough to make me suspicious. About a year later the problem of requiring MSDS did surface on a broader scale, but nothing was done about it and it just faded away. Other than this one exception, I did not encounter the MSDS rule the entire time I was at RAM.

Self Control versus Control of My Environment

Soon after the MSDS incident, there was an expansion in my area. A new department was formed with a new manager, and in keeping with the Nazi's policy of moving me around as much as possible, I was transferred to the new area. I think Pat was glad to get rid of me and the problems that went along with me. My new assignment meant little to me other than I would have a new manager. I was still very depressed, but I still foolishly hoped that I could save my future.

As part of my way to cope with all of the stress I was being subjected to, I began drinking heavily again. almost every evening I would come home and pour myself a couple of glasses of wine. By about seven P.M., I was totally drunk and all of the anger would come out. I would yell, swear and carry on until I was in such a fit of rage that I would smash a glass in the fireplace. On one occasion when Anita tried to argue with me, I became so enraged that I threw a glass through a picture window. That glass throwing incident cost me one hundred and fifty dollars for the repair. As time went on, I was getting drunk on the average about three of the five week day working nights.

The rants I would go on when I got drunk was always about how STUPID and SICK my tormentors had to be to set me up as a witness and then try to drive me insane or kill me by accident or suicide to cover up their stupidity and evilness. I just couldn't believe that the amerikan system was so corrupt as to support such evil. Of course, now days given the political and world events, such thoughts about not believing the evil of the amerikan system seems naive. But remember, this was 1980 and not present day. Most of the unrest that exists today is because most amerikans are losing their naivity about what they believe about amerika. And I laugh because I have spent the last 30 years trying to warn amerikans and they wouldn't listen. Now amerikans will learn the hard way.

Just when my drinking was becoming a real problem, the RAM medical department called me for the first time in almost eight months for a psychiatric follow up. This time I saw Dr. Cryer, who said I was doing fine, but he expressed concern about my excessive drinking. He just happened to inquire about by drinking habits during this particular interview. I told him I had not been a drinker in the past and that I could stop if I wanted to. He seemed to doubt that I could or would, but I assured him that I would stop.

The problem was that whenever I didn't express my anger I became depressed and when I stopped drinking and getting angry, I became very depressed. I was still seeing Dr. Iron every other week, and when I told him I had stopped drinking entirely he was amazed.

"Do you mean you have enough will power to just stop drinking?" he asked increduously.

"Sure, I have a lot of will power and drinking is something I have control over. I can't control my environment or the actions of the people around me. That's why I can't get better." I replied.

Dr. Iron didn't like my comment, but he was still surprised that I could stop consuming alcohol so abruptly after I had been drinking so much.

"Of course, now that I'm not drinking, I'm becoming more depressed. Can I have some antidepressants?"

Dr. Iron didn't hesitate. "No, you don't need them."

I believed Dr. Iron's refusal to give antidepressants was part of the plan to get me truly depressed and possibly suicidal again. There seemed to be no rational reason way someone as depressed as I was should not have been given antidepressants.

In retrospect, Dr. Iron's whole reaction and treatment of me reflects the really malevolent nature of Dr. Iron. He had fled the original German Nazis and now he seemed like he was determined to bring harm to other people to help the amerikan Nazis. I'll never know what his true motivation was but I don't believe it as a positive motivator. I guess he believed it was better to be the persecutor rather than be the person being persecuted.

More frustration

I decided the best way to keep my sanity was to bury myself in my work in mid-1980 I began directing all my efforts towards my research. Within a month the results were noticeable. I could tell by the length and quality of my monthy report that I had accomplished quit a bit. I felt good about my work and there seemed to be little that "they" could do to effect my research.

Then, a couple of days after I had handed in the lenghty report, a safety violation was found in my general working area and the laboratory was closed! The violation was trivial and could have easily been cleaned up. At first it was suppose to be for a few days, but when no progress was made after a week, I became suspicious. Interestingly, the only area of the laboratory to be shut down was the exact area that I worked in. I complained to management and wrote memos, but I was not given any new area to work. For a month I sat at my desk and did very little while the laboratory was closed. As I sat there doing nothing, I became more depressed and couldn't help but think that "they" had decided I was being too productive and that my work had to be stopped. A month later my section of the laboratory was reopened. The only real change that had occurred was in my diminished enthusiasm for my work.

Killing my enthusiasm for my work was a crushing blow and it made me angry. For the first time in a long while, I felt like fighting back. I knew the one thing the Nazis feared more than anything was the truth, and I was the only one who could and would tell the truth. Since I was concerned that as the years went by, and my mental health continued to deteriorate that I would be unable to recall what had happened I decided to keep another diary and document the happenings. I knew the diary could alway be stolen like the last one, but I believed that to steal the diary containing events occurring at RAM would be too strong of an implication of RAM's involvement. I would however, make an effort to protect the diary. I also wanted to my thoughts down in order to have some record of how I perceived events and how my emotions changed and were manipulated by by environment. Since I didn't want my beliefs and thoughts to be used to manipulate me even more than I was already being manipulated, I wanted to try to keep the diary in a secure place. With that in mind, I began to keep my second diary in late June, 1980.

Having the rug pulled out from beneath me.

I commented in the previous post that the amerikan Nazi government hates and fears the truth. They also hate justice. The two go hand in hand. Their hatred of justice can be seen almost every day with Nazi bombardments about how lawsuit settlements must be stopped or curbed. Remember, in the current BP oil "spill" the corporate liability in capped BY LAW to seventy five million dollars. Of course, lawsuits are about the only avenue the average amerikan has left to seek justice in this fascist system. The ruling amerikan nazis want to put and end to that avenue of justice. And, in a civil lawsuit the TRUTH just might emerge which goes back to my opening statement. I repeat: the ruling fascist elite hate truth and justice.

Back to my story:

I continued to be depressed and my anger was now limited to yelling sessions at my wife. One morning as I was getting dressed I began yelling about how my career had been destroyed and how I didn't have any vacation time because I kept taking days off when I was too depressed to go to work. I continued to harp on the vacation time as I left the house.

I had no more arrived at work and was sitting at my desk when my new manager, Laurie Bushell called.

"Good morning, Russ! How would you like to go to San Francisco for a week?" she asked.

"What do you mean?" I asked in a startled voice.

"Do you want to go to the ACS meeting in San Francisco at the end of August?"

"Sure." I answered. "What do I have to do?"

"Just write me a short request in memo form and you can go. It's all approved."

The timing of the call and my conversation with Anita that morning seemed very coincidental(a elipse or a circle!), but even without the coincidence, I was very skeptical that RAM was going to send me to San Francisco. Nevertheless I wrote the request as I had been instructed. That day I checked around and found that Osama and two other members from my area were going. I was also told that one of the people going had seen the "approved list" and that my name was indeed on the list. I still remained skeptical because when "they" wanted me to believe something "they" frequently supported what I was to believe with several confirming sources.

A couple of days later, Laurie called me and said I was also to go to RAM in San Jose the week prior to the ACS meeting. I was to attend a RAM review meeting with John Loser, who was my second level manager. Later, Laurie told I had to be in San Jose on August 28 and 29 because John was going to be there on those dates. I felt more and more that I was being toyed with. I had been promised trips to San Jose at least four different times in the past, but the trip was always cancelled at the last minute and I never got to go.

I decided to check with the receptionist who handled all flight arrangements in the department about John Loser's flight plans. She would know who was going to San Jose and "they" probably had not thought to cover up that end of the plan. Sure enough, John Loser had plans for a flight to San Jose on August 4th and was scheduled to return on August 6th. He had no other flights scheduled to San Jose in August. Despite my confirmed suspicions, I mad all the necessary arrangements and even change my own plans to get away for a few days just to accommodate the business trip. I was going to San Jose and San Francisco at the end of August.

In early August, the ACS meeting was moved to Las Vegas because of a hotel worker's strike in San Francisco. I knew this would give my Nazi tormentors an excuse to prohibit me from attending the meeting. Laurie immediately informed me that I probably could not attend the meeting because of the increase in cost. I sat down and calculated that it would cost a maximum of $43.00 more to go the Las Vegas/San Jose compared to the trip to San Francisco/San Jose. In RAM $43.00 isn't even noticed on an expense account - it's pocket change. I wrote a memo to the effect that the cost difference was minimal and offered to pay any difference in cost. On August twelfth, John Loser informed me the trip to Las Vegas/San Jose "could not be justified". When he told me, tears swelled in my eyes at the disappointment. As usual I had been made a promise and then it was pulled out from under me. Laurie said she would check with John again, but two days later the answer came back that I could not go.

Now everything would have seemed almost "normal" except that OSAMA and OTHER DEPARTMENT MEMBERS DID MAKE THE TRIP. No explaination was given as to why their trip was justified and mine was not.

Note added: In Amerika if you survive Nazi torture, you are still a political prisoner for life which means the Nazis keep you impoverished and still harass you. Now some 30 years later, it would appear the Nazis are still trying to stop me from taking a trip that I have planned. They don't get any sicker than the Amerikan ruling fascists.

Another No-Win or Psychological Double-Bind Situation

"The cost per day of the oil spill to BP so far has been $16 million. That number is dwarfed by the $66 million per day the firm made in profit in the first quarter of this year. Indeed, in 2009 BP's total profits were $14 billion. As CNN's Christine Romans notes, even if the cleanup costs were to rise to $14 billion, it would simply mean that BP went one year without make a profit, let alone losing money."

So why is it that the amerikan government decided that BP and other oil companies should have such a limited liability of only 75 million dollars TOTAL? Who will end up paying for the rest of the clean-up? YOU, the people of the working class. This is what fascism is: government and corporations that work together to the detriment of the working class - class warfare, a forbidden term in Nazi amerika. I am a victim of this facist system where government and corporations worked hand in hand to enrich corporate coffers at the expense of my marriage, family, career, friends and health. Some system, huh? The same amerikan system that you have been taught and are demanded to worship. WAKE UP AMERICANS!

Back to my story:

At home, my life was not any better. Our social life had all but disappeared when Anita came home one day and unexpectedly said we were invited to go to a barbecue at the Van Doren's on the weekend.

"Do you want to go?' she asked.

Anita knew I had frequently accused the Van Doren's of having drugged me on our another visit to their house and she and "they" must have expected a negative answer from me. Of course, this was a perfect psychological double-bind or a no win situation. Do I avoid contact with people who I greatly disliked or do I accept the only opportunity for social interaction? I assumed that was the reason for the invitation.

I thought for a moment and then said, "It'll be fun to socialize for a change. Sure I'll go."

Anita was taken back by my answer. "You will?!" She asked in disbelief.

"Sure." I answered. "I'm looking forward to it."

The invitation was a typical no win situation that Darth Korey mentioned my first few days at Gamma Supplies years before. Not that the destruction of my life was preplanned or that I would remember Darth mentioning that!!!!! Darth couldn't help but brag to and taunt his victims.

If I let my anger and hate dictate my decision and said no, then Anita and Dr. Iron could say I had no social life because of my "mental illness". If I said yes, I would put myself in a very unpleasant situation. No-win!

A couple of days went by and Anita didn't say anything more about the barbecue. I began to thinking she was hoping that I had forgotten about it. Since I wasn't going to let it slip by I brought up the subject.

"Are we still going to the barbecue Saturday?" I asked.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you. I called Jane today and she said they changed it to next weekend." Anita offered.

"OK. But don't forget it though. I really want to go." I replied.

I could tell Anita felt uncomfortable about my enthusiasm for attending the barbecue. By now, either Anita and/or "they" had expected me to turn down the offer, and now that I had accepted , the game became to find a way to keep me from attending.

Another week went by and again Anita said nothing. Finally on Friday I said, "Are we going to the barbecue tomorrow?" Anita was visibly annoyed by my insistence.

"Oh, they had to change it again. It is going to be in two weeks."

I knew I was never going to that barbecue, but I kept asking about it all summer. After two months of asking, the barbecue was cancelled until next summer. The whole incident had been a "no-win" situation for me.
______________
For those that don't remember, psychologists call no-win situations a psychological double-bind. Psychological double-binds are thought to be a major contributor to schizophrenic behavior. These no-win situations were a key element in the Nazis attempt to drive me permanently insane.

Different Day, SOS

In the sometimes war like situation that was created between Anita and me, we developed our own way of communicating to each other without saying anything. In one instance I was carrying on about being ostracised from society.

"Damn them!" I said. "They have people avoid me and terrorize me and they "they" have the psychiatrist say it's because I'm mentally ill. "They won't let anyone come in my house just like they did at Gamma Supplies. Maybe I should throw a party and invite everyone at work to come to the party. I wonder what "they" would do? How would "they" get out of that one? That's what I'm going to do. Tomorrow I'm going to invite everyone at work to a party here next weekend."

Anita was sitting on the couch and she just looked at me as if to say, "what are you trying to do? Get yourself killed?" She didn't have to say anything because I could see what she was thinking. She was right. No matter what I did, I was going to lose. The Nazi amerikan government/corporate state was going to destroy me or kill me no matter what I did. And without saying a word and with a single look, Anita had stopped my great idea.

At work, the organizational changes and growth in my area continued, and in September 1980 a new second level manager was named to replace John Loser. His new replacement Ed James was a seasoned RAM veteran and had been a manager in my technical area previously. As a result, I did anticipate any dramatic changes in my area.

Ed held the usual area meeting to introduce himself, and then he presented an organizational chart. As part of his new organization, he was creating a new department for which he announced he would be seeking a new manager. When he made the announcement, my heart sank because I knew "they" would try to get me to believe I was being considered for the job just as I was going to be the new "Technical Director" at Gamma Supplies. No matter how rediculous it sounded given my situation, "they" would try to get me to believe I was being considered for the job. As expected, during the next few weeks coworkers would comment that they heard I was being considered for the management job. Just the fact that suggestions(a key element in mental torture) were made caused me to become more depressed. Then in early October, I received a note in my mail that said Ed James wanted to meet with me. When I checked with the secretary she said it was a routine skip-level interview, and that the purpose was to acquaint Ed with his new personnel.

The Nazis always took every advantage to recreate situations that had happened at Gamma Supplies. It was part of the mind control conditioning that they were doing to create "permanent mental illness". Interestingly, last night there was a show on the Nazi government's gestapo agency, the CIA and their experiments in mind control and what they did to their victims in the '60s and '70s. Of course these experiments were illegal and their victims were US citizens living within the US boundaries. The experiments were described as barbaric and inhumane and worse than those carried out by the previous Nazi regime, Hitler's Germany. I was now a victim of those experimental results that were being put to practical real life use to destroy human life.

The Nazi American Government/Corporations Continue Efforts To Drive Me Insane!

2010-04-26T13:28:00.000-07:00

Nazi America's love of destruction.

The ruling Fascists knew that the increasing my wife's role in their terrorizism and mental torture mechinations that "they" were ending my marriage. And in fact, later we did get divorced SOULEY BECAUSE OF THE NAZI GOVERNMENT'S TERRORISM. Whenever the corporate state attacks an individual to hide crimes from the american public, the stress created almost always leads to divorce and the destruction of the invidual's marriage. If you watch the DVD "The Insider" starring Russell Crowe as Jeffery Wigand, you will see how quickly Mr. Wigand's marriage ended once the Nazi attacks began. All Jeffery Wigand wanted to do was tell the american people how much data existed about the addictive, harmful effects of cirgarette smoking. Of course the Nazi corporate state didn't want that information out, so destruction of individual became "necessary". You can imagine how much the fascist state wants to keep their trial rigging hidden. And for sure, they don't want americans to know how the TORTURE citizens for fun and profit.

Also by attacking my marriage, the Nazis knew that if I did survive their attacks, I would probably never marry again, at least not an american woman. And by eliminating my marrying someone else, they guaranteed that I would never have children, which meant the Nazi rulers wouldn't have to worry about justice seeking off-spring in the future. Of course, all this points to the fact the Nazis just wanted to get rid of me.

Which brings me to the next point which is the american government seems to only be good at one thing - DESTRUCTION! Destruction of countries, individuals, and all that is decent and good. The Nazi state's approach to anything is DESTRUCTION FIRST. Look at Vietnam. Remember the Nazi american slogan, "We must destroy Vietnam to save it!" Of course, the Vietnam people prevaled, kicked america out and now some 40 years later, is doing quite well. The people and government rebuilt the country without american intervention. And they did it without Nazi america oppression, tyranny and exploitation.

Look at Iraq. The difference in Iraq before the american destruction and after is unbelievable. There is total destruction of the infrastructure and the destruction of millions of Iraqi lives either through death or exile. And of course, 40-50 years from now when the country recovers from all the destruction, Nazi america will proudly proclaim how "america rebuilt Iraq." And by then america will have drained most of Iraq's oil supply.

Oh well, the next post I will get back to the destruction of my life.

Isolation follows the extreme terrorism.

That weekend we visited my parents. When we arrived, as I got the suitcases from the car, I noticed Anita rushing into the house. I wondered why she was in such a hurry. As I entered the house, I saw Anita pulling my mother into the dining room. As she got my mother into the other room, anita almost was yelling in panic, "He doesn't believe it!" Anita looked up and saw me standing there and quickly released her grip on my mother.

I was in such a state anxiety and fear that the weekend at my parents did little to help me relax. I spent Saturday watching TV and walking the dog, but nothing could get my mind off my problems.

On Sunday I watched some football and tried to find someway to relax, but my fears and concerns were overwhelming. More than anything, I was worried about the depression which was to follow as a result of the induced high and increased adrenalin flow. That afternoon I went to the cupboard to get my mother's antidepressants. I was surprised to find them gone.

"What happened to the antidepressants you had in here?" I asked my mother.

"Oh, I was cleaning out the cupboard and threw them out," my mother replied.

"Damn it! I need them. When I come down from this orchestrated high I am going to be so depressed and "they" won't let the doctors give me anything for the depression. I guess "they" will wait until I'm so depressed nothing will help me and then they'll give me medication."

"Well I can't help you. I threw them out," was my mother's reply.

I was even suspicious of the pills being gone. My mother never threw prescription drugs out. The pill and ointments in her cabinets in the bathrooms were very old. If she had just thrown them out, she had extremely poor timing. Now I had no choice but to go to the doctors, and I knew that was an integral part of the plan. How can you document that somebody is mentally ill if he doesn't see a doctor?

Since I was too upset and scared to go into work on Monday, I called in sick. Prior to Gamma Supplies and RAM, I had never called into work for a sick day unless I was really very sick.

The next day I went to work and when I walked into my office, all of my things were gone. I rushed into Pat's office and demanded an explanation. Pat told me to calm down and then said, "When you were out yesterday we moved you into a new office." I'll show you where it is. For the time being, you'll be alone in this office until we find someone to move in with you."

My new office was a definite step down in status. The office I had shared with the Nazi scumbag Osama was on the outside wall with a window, and it had easy access to the laboratory and the secretarial pool office. My new office was and inner office with no window and it was totally inaccessible. You needed a road map to find it and unless you were specifically looking for that particular office, a person wouldn't even know the room was there. I joked about the fact that the other two offices in the area were occupied by a black and an Indian and that I was being put with the rest of the "minorities".

I had been told prior to the conference that Osama wanted a new office partner, but my response had been to let Osama move since I had a higher ranking, it should be my choice. The fact that I was moved instead of Osama reinforced the fact that I had no say in controlling my environment.

One of the many that cause my to hate this Nazi state to this very day is how the Nazis continually show favor to foreign born and people who I believe were non-citizens. Osama and his Asian buddy Hun Wong both eventually got transferred to a desirable west coast RAM facillity. Many natural born US citizens I worked with had tried for years to get transferred there, but these two foreign born Nazi lovers got transferred after a few short years. This preference to non US born workers was prevelant throughout my ordeal. Given my experience it is no wonder there are so many foreign born and illegal immigrants in this Nazi state. Remember immediately after 9/11, the Nazi government assisted Saudi citizens to safely leave the country.

If you tell a lie often enough, people will believe it - A basic Nazi Tenet.

That Wednesday I went to see Dr. Iron with Anita. I was still very anxious and knew what Dr. Iron was going to tell me. Still, I had to do something to relieve all of the stress that I was experienceing. Dr. Iron was very predictable and he spent a half an hour tell me how sick I was. More importantly, he spent the entire hour trying to convince me that I should believe I was sick. At one point I brought up an incident which had occurred and had no rational explanation. I was not going to buy the argument that my problems were internal.

"Boy you are stubborn!" Dr. Iron declared. Then he turned to Anita and said, "he is schizophrenic and paranoid and has a split personality."

Two things ran through my mind. First, I really wondered if Dr. Iron truly believed what he was saying and second, I thought about how much my condition had deteriorated since I had been in the hospital - you remember the confinement where I was heavily sedated and then told to sign my sworn testamony. When I was in the hospital, Dr. Bardopolous had refused to say I was schizophrenic. But, I had suffered another ten months of abuse and torture since then. Dr. Iron spent the rest of the session talking to Anita and continually asked her how she was holding up. I left the session with the same impasse I had always been confronted with. I was suppose to be mentally ill, and no one was going to support any other position regardless of how much evidence I had that I was being persecuted. Logic and rational had no place in my world.

It is important to note that in general, mind control and indoctrination relies almost completely on the victim(s) only hearing on constant theme. In my case, the only statements I could hear was that I was mentally ill - no one could say anything different if I was to believe it. I can tell you that years later when the Nazi government gave up on trying to convince me that I was mentally ill, psychiatrists in both this country and in other countries agreed that I had been brutally mentally tortured in order to drive me insane and to convince me that I was insane. That is why I believe people like Dr. Iron should be publically executed for crimes against humainty just like the original Nazis were executed. I have no compassion for people like him. He is an abomination to the human race and is no better than the psychopaths who were torturing me.

Jealousy - generating another strong emotion.

The next day Anita came home from school and said we had been invited to have dinner with the Van Dorens. Anita had met Jane Van Doren at school and they had become good friends. Since we had been to dinner a month earlier with Jane and her husband Dick, who was a RAM employee, the invitation did not seem all that surprising. For some reason that I could not figure out, I was still allowed to socialize with my wife and her friends. I was so happy to have the opportunity to socialize, I readily accepted the invitation.

That evening as I was getting dressed, I had a drink of scotch to help me calm down. Then as we were just about ready to leave, I poured myself another drink, I took one sip of the drink, sat it down on the kitchen counter and went back to the bedroom to get my coat. As I came walking back into the kitchen I saw Anita putting an empty glass back on the counter.

"Why did you pour my drink out?" I asked.

"I didn't," she answered. "It was empty."

"What do you mean?" I asked angrily. "I just poured that drink."

I knew Anita was lying, but I assumed she just didn't want me getting drunk.

The dinner at the Van Doren's was not very enjoyable. Dick barely spoke to me which was a direct contrast to the last time we got together. Meanwhile Jane and Anita spent a couple of hours sitting at the dinner table talking about school. In particular, they kept talking about how much Anita's fencing instructor liked her. Jane was particularly insistent on talking about how much he kept making a play for Anita. I found the conversation annoying and the longer the conversation dwelt on that subject the more I began to wonder if the whole topic hadn't been arranged to create the strong emotion of jealousy in me. I did not doubt for one minute that the fencing instructor found Anita attractive. This type of scenario is one the Nazi government would repeat over and over in the future. Jealousy is a strong emotion and the object was to keep my emotions running out of control. As we sat at the dinner table, Bill poured a second glass of wine for everybody except me. It was like he was trying to keep me from drinking too much just the way Anita had done prior to leaving our house.

Finally we went to the living room. We sat down and then Dick insisted that I have a beer. I seldom drank beer, but after he kept badgering me about having a beer, I relented. Dick went to the kitchen for a short time and then came back with a beer already poured into a glass. I drank the beer while listening to Jane and Anita continue their conversation. As soon as I finished the beer, Anita stood up and announced it was time for us to leave. I looked at my watch and saw it was only eleven o'clock, but Anita insisted we leave immediately. I got up and left reluctantly. When I got to the car, I asked Anita why she was in such a hurry to leave. She just ignored me.

The drive home was about thirty minutes and about half way home I started to get very sleepy.

"Boy, I'm getting sleepy all of a sudden."

"I'll drive if you want me to," Anita offered enthusiastically.

"No that's all right. I can make it home."

As we continued my head began to nod and I was finding it more and more difficult to stay awake.

"Damn it! I've been drugged! I can't stay awake."

Ursula said nothing at first and then offered to drive again. We were almost home so I continued. I pulled into the garage and rushed upstairs to the bedroom. I ripped my clothes off, fell onto the bed and passed out.

Drug the victim, protect the terrorists.

About 3 o'clock in the morning I woke up and was furious at Anita. I didn't want to hurt her so I started hitting her with the pillow. As she woke up I was screaming. "Damn you! How could you let them drug me? That's why you poured my drink down the sink and nobody would give me any more wine to drink at dinner. You knew I was going to be drugged!" The whole conversation tonight was designed to make me angry at you and then they have me drugged to make sure I don't kill you. How could you let them drug me?"

Anita sat up in bed and said nothing. I continued ranting for a few minutes and then I got up. I was still a little woozy, but I made it to the couch in the family room.

"I guess I'd better sleep in here for the rest of the night," I said.

"I don't think I'm going to sleep the rest of the night," Anita replied.

The next day I was still angry at Anita, but I tried to talk to her.

"You knew they were going to drug me, didn't you?" I asked.

"Now Russell, nobody drugged you. You've just been under a lot of stress and you were tired."

"Damn it Anita. I've gone a couple of days without sleep before and I've gotten tired, but I have never passed out like that. I wanted to stay later last night and then fifteen minutes later I couldn't keep my eyes open. And you insisted that we leave the minute I finished that beer. What's wrong? Were you afraid I was going to pass out before we got home?"

"Nobody drugged you," was all Anita would say.

"Yeah I know. And nobody is tormenting me and all of this is in my mind," I said sarcastically. "It's funny how none of these things have ever happened. It's all in my mind. Isn't that nice of them though? I mean after all you've done for them, they at least try to keep you alive. They are such great people. And of course it makes it look as though I'm a deserving receiptient of all this hell. Those criminally insane bastards still are trying to make themselves look good."

I returned to work the next day and of course had trouble concentrating on anything that week. I decided to see the company doctor and ask for a leave of absence. Dr. Arnold Mengelee said I would have to talk to Dr. Iron, and then he would base his decision on Dr. Iron's recomendation. I doubted that I would be given a leave of absence because the Nazis objective was to keep me under constant stress and a leave of absence would prevent total control of my environment. However, I went to my next appoint with Dr. Iron to present my case. Of course, Dr. Iron immediately nixed the idea and said he I should stay on the job and that was the recommendation he would make to Dr. Arnold. So much for the psychiatrist helping me.

The rest of the hour Dr. Iron spent talking to Anita about having children and how she felt about becoming pregnant. As I sat there and listened, I began to wonder if Anita was pregnant. She had tried for so many years to become pregnant but had been unable to conceive. If she was now pregnant, it could not have come at a worst time. With the fits of rage and anger I experienced, a baby would not be safe in the house. I left the session with Dr. Iron with a commitment to go back to work and a new concern that Anita was pregnant.

Another way to drive a person crazy!

Both Anita and I needed a break from the insane life we were leading. The RAM recreational club was offering a trip to Aruba so I decided to sign up for a vacation over the Thanksgiving holiday. The anticipation of the trip and the inprovement in my work environment gave me an improved outlook of things.

I was still angry at Anita several weeks later when I decided to run a test on her. By now, I decided that maybe no one had to break into my house to steal my sworn statement and move items around a year earlier, but rather Anita could have been the instrument through which the change had been made. So when we arrived back from a visit at my parent's place, I decided to run a test on her by moving things around. Anita had gone upstairs into the house while I was busy unpacking the car when I noticed her school books in the car. I took the books and hid them in an adjoining room to the garage. Anita came down into the garage and said, "Don't forget to take my books upstairs."

I didn't hesitate a second and said, "Your books aren't in the car. They must be upstairs."

Anita became annoyed and came over to the car. "Where are my books?" She shouted.

"They must be upstairs." I replied.

Anita went storming off back upstairs. Pretty soon she came back down to the garage.
"My books aren't upstairs. Where are they?!"

"Are you sure?" I asked. "Let me go up and look."

I went into the house, picked up the books from the adjoining room and took them upstairs and put them on her bedroom dresser. Then I called down to her, "What are these books up here?"

Anita came hurrying up the stairs and into the bedroom. "How did they get there?" she asked?

"I don't know. They were there when I came up and looked."

Anita began yelling. "YOU PUT THEM THERE. THEY WEREN'T THERE BEFORE!"

I calmly stated, "Anita, what are you talking about? They were right there when I looked."

Anita was furious. "You know darn well why you did this and it's not funny!"

"Anita, I don't know what you are talking about." I solemnly answered.

Anita went storming out of the room and wouldn't talk to me for a couple of hours. I did discover that my reaction to the same type of incidences that the Nazi torturers orchestrated against me was perfectly normal. Outrange! Frustration! Anger! And that if these type of things were done often enough over a long enough period of time, it would drive a person insane.

I had become particularly sensitive to this type of technique since items on my desk at work and at home would disappear and then a couple of weeks later the missing items would show up exactly where I had looked for them. The first couple of times this occurred, I thought that maybe I had just overlooked the item I was searching for. However, when the occurrence became frequent, I began making the initial search more thorough and I would sometimes repeat the search over a period of days without finding the item in which I was interested. Then suddenly the missing item would miraculously turn up back in the spot where I had been looking for it. The whole process would create a lot of frustration, anger and confusion.

Several years later, Cuban psychiatrists would reassure me that my reaction to these arranged incidences was very normal and in no way insane. Somehow Nazi American psychiatrists couldn's see that!!!!

Anita collapses - Real Problems Add to the Stress.

It was one week before our trip to Aruba, and it seemed like everything was going well. It appeared as if we would make the trip with no problems. I constantly worried about something going wrong, but for a change "they" did not seem to be interferring.

It was a typical week day morning and Anita had gotten up first and was getting ready for school when she walked into the bedroom bathroom and collapsed! I jumped out of bed and went over to her.

"What's wrong?"

She was still conscious. "I just got all dizzy. I didn't feel well when I got up. I feel weak and tired. I feel alright now," she said.

I helped her up and she seemed alright. A couple of nimutes later she collapsed again in the bathroom.

"Help me," she called out. "I can't move!"

I tried to help her up to the bed, but she was too heavy and she experienced pain when I tried to move her.

"I'll call an ambulance for you."

For a moment I thought about asking her who was behind my torture problems. In exchange for the answer, I would call for help. And if she wouldn't answer, I considered just leaving for work and leaving her there. However, my love and compassion for her made me ask without asking her.

The ambulance arrived quickly and took Anita to the emergency room of a local hospital. She looked quete pale and was complaining that she was in considerable pain. Her condition was deteriorating rapidly.

A doctor came over and examined her immediately and then asked me to leave the room while he ran some tests. A few minutes later, the doctor came out and exclaimed "We have to operate immediately. Your wife is bleeding internally." With that statement he held up a syringe full of blood. "I took this from your wife's body cavity." he continued. "If we don't operate now she will die! We have to find the source of the bleeding."

I went back into the room to talk to Anita. Things were happening to fast for her to be really scared.

She began, "The doctor thinks I had a tubal prenancy that ruptured. It's causing internal bleeding. Isn't that something? All of these years of trying to get pregnant and now this."

I didn't get much of a chance to say anything before nurses came in with papers for me to sign. Then they asked me to leave the room so that they could get Anita ready for the operation. As I was leaving Anita called out "There goes our trip to Aruba. I'm sorry I messed things up."

"Don't worry about that. I'll take care of it." I assured her.

Since Anita would be in surgery for at least two hours and I was too anxious to wait around, I called into work and then headed home. I was still very hyper from my conference harassment ordeal to sit still for two hours. As I drove home I kept thinking "She was pregnant!" I kept thinking about how a month earlier Anita and Dr. Iron had talked as if she were pregnant. Had Anita known and not told me because of our situation? Did Dr. Iron know she was pregnant or was it a true coincident? Was it an oval or a true circle(see the post on how to cause a nervous breakdown.). All of these thoughts ran through my head as I drove along.

NOTE: One of the things I learned from my experience with the Nazis is that once evil enters your life through an evil person or persons as it did in mine, the evil seems to take over your life and everything seems to go wrong. Bad things happens in your life like the above scenario with Anita. The moral is if you believe someone is bad news and evil, get them out of your life as fast as you can before the evil encompasses you. In my case I should have walked out of Gamma Supplies after a week or two when I could sense the immense evil of Darth Korey and the people behind him. Which is why the Nazis had picked a poor person as their victim because they knew I couldn't afford to leave -I was trapped. As some friends of mine like to say, if you can avoid police, lawyers, doctors and the Nazi government in your life, you will have a good life.

2010-04-18T14:50:00.000-07:00

What to do to avoid psychopathic Nazi torture.
On Friday evening we drove to my parent's place. I explained to my parents what I was considering, and they immediately discouraged me because there were no good jobs available in the Scranton area. I knew that would be used as an argument for my staying at RAM, and I knew my parents would never understand the price I was paying for trying to hold on to my job at RAM. Perhaps the strongest argument for staying at RAM was that I couldn't be sure anything would be different for me in Scranton. I was meeting strong resistance to my plan to leave RAM.

The following evening my sister, Anita and I went to a fireworks display at a local resort. As we drove, my sister started telling me about an experience she had told me about previously. When she described the experience she used almost exactly the same words she had used before. I immediately became suspicious and started to feel anxious. The "instant replay" technique had been used so often at Gamma Supplies that I could no longer tell if the story my sister was repeating was just a coincidence or whether it was planned. Was it a circle or an oblong? I knew my wife had been used against me, why wouldn't the fascist rulers use my sister? We continued on our way but my anxiety level was rising and didn't enjoy the fireworks display that night.

The next morning I was up early and I went to the kitchen and talked to my mother. She was concerned and wanted to be helpful.

"Did you ever think of going to the police?" she asked.

"It wouldn't do any good." I replied. "These people are above the law."

"Well, you know I had an uncle once who just disappeared." she continued. "To this day no one knows where he is."

"Thanks for the help mom," was all I could reply. In hindsight it is interesting that she was suggesting that I abandon Anita. She seemed to know that I couldn't trust Anita.

"Do you think Anita could stay here if I go back? I really don't know what is going to happen and I worry about her." I continued.

I was concerned about my own rage, and I also remembered that Anita had been with me when the car tampering incident had occurred. My mother said it would be fine if Anita stayed behind in Scranton.

Anita got up late as she usually did. We then went for a walk through the woods with Nuisance, our dog as we frequently did when we wanted to talk. I explained that I had no idea what was going to happen to me and maybe it would be best that she forget about her job and stay at my parents house. Anita just broke down and started crying. Finally after a lengthy discussion, Anita decided to back home with me no matter what happened. That Sunday evening, we headed home and I was headed back to RAM.

Fate hands me proof of conspiracy - but the Nazis wouldn't care.
I returned to work on Monday to the same environment. I was beginning to believe my situation was hopeless and that no one would ever believe what had happened and what was still happening. There was no way I could ever stop the senseless destruction in my life, but the one sense of victory that I could have was the ability to relate what had been done in such a convincing manner that no one would doubt me. But I was beginning to believe that was a lost cause too. Who would ever believe that what was happening to me at RAM was related to a trial rigging at Gamma Supplies and how would I ever remember all the evidence after several years? And it really did seem insane that my coworkers were conspiring and acting out scenarios just to make look and act insane. And of course, my truly insane captors really believed they could drive me insane. The time, effort and cost was so great, it did not seem like I could succeed. If I had these doubts, who would ever believe me?

Just when I was beginning to loose the battle, fate gave me some much needed proof. One day as I was exiting the laboratory, I stepped into the hallway and heard two people talking in an office diagonally across from where I was standing. I could not see who was talking and they could not see me as I paused to hear;
You know, the guys are getting a little tired of this thing with Russ, and all the things we have to do to him. I was too anxious to see who was talking to listen more. I walked in front of the office doorway in time to see a co-worker and my former manager Gene Leski. The co-worker stopped talking immediately, and they both just stared at me. I hesitated and then went on my way. I was elated. My co-workers were getting tired of having to constantly harassing me and at least on of them was complaining to management. For a brief moment, I had hope. Indirectly, I had someone else trying to stop the torture of me. Not only that but I had proof that there was a conspiracy agains me. It was not my imagination.

Several minutes later I returned to the office. Since Gene was gone, I approached the co-worker and asked him an innocuous question. He turned bright red and answered in a very nervous manner. He knew I had overheard his remark. I left his office feeling relieved because no one could now doubt my claim that I was being harassed. On the other hand, it meant that "they" would only be happy if they did drive me insane. The only course they and their twisted minds could pursue was to totally destroy me.

Another therapist (The Rapist) living in La, La Land
My mental state was deterioring rapidly again as a result of the constant mental torture I was being subjected to at work. I desperately needed someone I could talk to without getting the answer that I was just imagining everything and that I was mentally ill. I decided to go talk to the minister of the church that Anita and I attended. I foolishly told Anita of my plan.

By now a strange thing had happened in my relationship with Anita. I trusted her again which was probably out of necessity. I began to rationalize all the things that had happened that had involved her. More importantly, she became my confidant again, and I told her things that I shouldn't have because my Nazi torturers could use the information against me. But I was so anxious that I freely talked to her. Still, I wanted someone else I could use as a sounding board.

My conversation with my minister was normal and there were no surprises. He said he could not help me and suggested I seek professional councilling. Through him, I obtained the name and address of a psychiatrist to visit. I went home and then told Anita all that had transpired which meant that "they" would know exactly what I was doing and who I was going to go see.

I started seeing Dr. Iron in July, 1979. Dr. Iron was an elderly gentleman who lived alone in a large old house in the country outside of Georgeville, NY. He had practiced psychiatry in New York City for several years and was now in the process of transferring his practice to his suburban home. In contrast to the doctors I had previously talked to, I found Dr. Steel to be very well rounded in his experiences, and I found him to be mentally alert. It became readily apparent that he was used to winning arguments with his patients. Although I had great respect for him as a person, I found him to be of little help in discussing my problems. The best indication that he would be no help to me came when after I gave him a brief synopsis of my situation he proclaimed,Now Russ, big business doesn't do things like that!" I knew at that point that Dr. Iron could never really help me or that he wouldn't really try to help me. He did prescribe Haldol, an antipsychotic agent to help me cope with my anxiety. Other than that, he was useless.

What is really interesting about Dr. Iron is that he is Jewish and had fled the original Nazi empire and changed his name. I am a little surprised that he didn't tell me to flee this Nazi empire as subsequent psychiatrists would do.

How Evil works through the Nazi Empire.
After I started seeing Dr. Iron, the harassing events at work began to lessen and my thoughts to leave RAM abated. However, my thoughts never deviated from preparing for the inev inevitable loss of my job or perhaps my life. My foremost thought was to protect Anita. I believed it was important that she be prepared to go out on her own, and therefore she needed a better occupation than that of a bank teller/accountant. Since Anita had always been interested in being a nurse, we made plans for her to start attending full time a local community college. Since the program was a two year study,she could be working in a good profession in a reasonable amount of time. I too decided to take a course in accounting in an attempt to prepare for another career when my career as a chemist was terminated. All our efforts were designed to counteract all of the destructive actions which were being carried out against me.

In late August, I received a phone call from a worker in the trafficking department at RAM. He informed me that I had to fill out some forms to collect my moving expenses incurred a year earlier. When I previously tried to get my money, I encountered so many roadblocks that I had just given up all hope of ever getting the money. I knew it was just another way "they" could frustrate me. Now a year later, the trafficking department couldn't carry the account any longer on the books and they had to pay me. In other words, "they" had held the money as long as the system would allow and now I would be paid. The maximum hardship and frustration had been attained. I told the man to send me the forms and a couple of days later they arrived in the mail.

I told Anita that we would be getting several hundred dollars back for the damage done to our furniture. Both of us were happy and I remarked, "This is the first positive thing that has happened to us in over a year. I can't believe it. We will have some extra money for a change."

My positive feelings did not last long. Two days later I kissed my wife goodbye in the garage as she left for work. I went back into the house and started up the stairs when I heard a crash. I rushed back down the stairs and into the garage in time to see Anita standing there looking at the door. I immediately saw the car door was crumbled and as calmly as I could, asked, "What happened?!"

I forgot to close the car door as I was backing out of the garage and I hit the garage support." she said.

I looked at the door and saw the damage was extensive.

"Well, if we're lucky, all that will have to be done is the door will have to be replaced."

I drove Anita to work. As we drove, I talked about what had to be done.

"I'll take a vacation day from work today and take the car in to get an estimate, and then I will inform the insurance company." I said. I was assuming the car was still driveable.

Anita sat there and cried. Since we had a large deductible insurance on the car, the money we were going to receive from RAM was gone. There would be no extra money.

It is interesting to note that once the evil Nazis took over my life, a very negative force, an evil force entered my life. I had always been a fortunate, even a lucky person where things in my life always went smoothly and positively up until the Nazis entered. At that point, it seemed like some evil force, a dark cloud took over my life. It was that evil negativity that I could sense or feel at Gamma Supplies. And my life has never been the same since. The Bible says that this empire receives its "throne, power and authority from the Great Dragon, Satan", and I have found nothing to refute that.

Creation of Inner Conflict - Another Nazi technique.
To add to our finacial crunch, Anita quit her job in September to go to college. That meant we would be living on one income and would have her tuition and other college expenses over the next two years. Anita was enthusiastic about going to college to become a nurse, and it helped relieve some of her anxiety over what she would do if something did happen to me. For the short term we were giving up her income and taking on an added expense in order to insure her and hopefully our future.

In early September, I was informed that I could attend a photopolymer conference to be held in nearby Shirleyville, NY. The conference was sponsored by the Society of Professional Engineers, but in reality it was a RAM sponsored conference and was headed by Klaus Closeau and my new manager, Pat Clover. I was a little surprised that I could go and I immediately became suspicious. Not only was I told I could attend the conference, but Pat encouraged me to bring my tennis things along and invited me to play some tennis. I was really surprised at the social invitation.

That evening I informed Anita that I would be going to the conference and immediately she started pestering me to take her along. I had never taken Anita on a business trip and her sudden insistence that she accompany me caught me off guard. My initial answer was "no"!

I was becoming more and more suspicious about Anita's actions. It seemed that more and more the things I said to her were being used to irritate me at work. It was what I called "cross-over" events. At other times, Anita would console me and would acknowledge by her words and actions that I was being terrorized. It was almost as if she had a split personality. One evening we were having dinner at a local Steak House and I was talking about the one topic I always talked about.

"I just can't believe how insane "they" are to terrorize someone for such a long period of time, and they won't let me get any real help. I mean they used Dr. Cohen to help terrorize me and set me up for that suicide attempt. Can you believe they actually used him to help them?" I asked.

"Yes, I can believe it." Anita solemnly replied.

By now Anita's candid comments on the subject no longer surprised me. We were both in this together, and although I was bearing the blunt of the attack, Anita was fighting for her survival too. However, the minute I would start to trust Anita just a little too much, something would happen to destroy it and make me angery at her. In fact, it seemed as though "they" were now trying to make my wife the object of my hate and anger. What greater conflict could a man have than to hate the person he dearly loved? That hatred was being fostered by involving my wife in more and more incidences. I wasn't knowldgeable about menticide at the time, but subsequent reading on the subject revealed that the generation of inner conflict is another key element in mental torture. The greater the conflict, the more pain and torment the victim experiences. Aren't the american Nazis real sweethearts???!!!

When I relive these events as I post them, it makes me aware all over again what really sick bastards run this country. God's wrath on this nation can never be too great!!!

As always, one sided trust.
As the harassment increased at work again, I lost my confidence in the ability of Dr. Iron to help me. As a result I decided to spot seeing him without telling anyone of the change. To keep Anita from finding out, I would leave the house as if I were going to keep an appointment, and then I would go to my office for about an hour or so and do my accounting for my accounting course I was taking. Then I would return home. I had noted the times I left and arrived home on one of my last visits to Dr. Iron. I was careful to keep the same schedule so Anita would not become suspicious. I did this for several weeks until one day Anita said she wanted to talk to me. We sat down on the couch and she began, "You're not seeing Dr. Iron, are you?"

"Of course I am! Where do you think I go every Tuesday evening?" I replied.

"Russell, I know you are not seeing Dr. Iron."

Anita said it with such confidence that I began to believe that she really knew.

"What makes you think that?" I asked.

"I just know." Then she paused, thought for a second and continued. "I can tell by the time you leave and come back that you aren't seeing him."

I knew that couldn't be the case because of the great care I had taken to keep the times exact. Now I was becoming angry. Anita was so sure and so insistent that I was not seeing Dr. Iron that I was convinced she had been told the information to provoke and incident. I decided to admit the truth to stop the altercation.

"OK, I haven't been seeing Dr. Iron, but I would still like to know how you knew."

Anita didn't answer me, but rather she continued on almost as if she had rehearsed it.

"Russell, I'm really upset. I thought our marriage was based on trust and honesty. We are not suppose to lie to one another."

I was furious. My own wife had betrayed, terrorized and help set me up to be killed and now "they" were having her chastise me for lying to her. I knew the only was she could have known that I was not seeing Dr. Iron was by someone telling her, but I could never prove it. The incident had served its purpose. It had provoked the reaction of anger and rage, and it kept my emotions flowing at a high level.

The incident also showed how important it was for the power Nazi elite to document a history of mental illness in order to have a written record that they could always roll out if I ever did get someone to listen to me. The mental illness record was critical to their ultimate plan of getting rid of me. After all, mental illness can rationalize just about anything away.

How the Fascist empire hides the truth.
I was shocked that Anita would suggest that I run away, because she knew it would do no good. I had no underground connections, no real money and "they" watched everything I did. Later I will relate indisputable evidence to the extreme extent "they" monitored everything I did. But I wondered if "they" had told her to encourage me to run away, or if in the confusion of the situation Anita truly believed that running away and hiding would solve my problem. I tended to believe the former because I was aware how "they" would have people urge me to take self-destructive actions, and then the people who had suggested the action would tell me how foolish and sick I was. Destructive actions were usually encouraged throught the mind control technique of suggestion. And because of the terrible abuse I was enduring, I was readily susceptible to suggestion. The fact that I could not trust any suggestion or advice made it difficult to carry on.

It is important to note that my captors had a year at Gamma Supplies to learn everything about me before I realized I was their prisoner/slave. That fact and the immense power and resources my captors had made fleeing a stupid idea. And had I fled to some other neutral nation such as Canada or Mexico, "they" would have followed me. Many years later I had knowledgeable people tell me that "they" would follow me if I fled.

The day I was to leave for the Elville Photopolymer Conference, Anita was still begging me to take her along. Finally I relented and said she could drive up and attend the main banquet which was held on the next to last evening. Then Anita made a strange offer.

"Let me pack your suitcase," she said.

"What do you mean?" I asked increduously. "I always pack my own suitcase. I've done it a hundred times before, and I intend to do it this time. Why do you want to pack my suitcase?"

I was just trying to be nice." she replied.

Later as I was finishing my suitcase, Anita came into the bedroom.

"Are you going to take your tennis stuff?" She asked.

"No I'm not. You know Pat nor anyone else is going to play tennis with me so why should I take it?"

Anita kept after me. "Oh why don't you take it? I'll pack your tennis bag for you."

I was irritated at her insistence, but I finally agreed to let her pack my tennis bag. "Go ahead and pack it while I get some papers that I need from the living room." I told her.

While I was in the other room going through scientific papers, Anita called out, "Did you pack your toothbrush and shaving cream?"

I was really annoyed at Anita's badgering on the subject of packing and shouted back, "I packed everything I need!"

I knew I had all my toiletries packed and was becoming very suspicious of Anita's behavior. I went back into the bedroom, picked up my suitcase and tennis bag and headed out the door. As I did, I noticed my new tennis sneakers on the closet floor.

"I may as well take these new tennis shoes and break them in."

With that I threw them in the tennis bag and started to leave for Elville. Then I turned to Anita.

"Do you want to take a walk out back with Nuisance before I go?"

"OK" Anita replied.

As we walked around the woods in back of the house, I expressed my concern about what was going to happen at the conference.

"It seems like they are trying to build the anxiety up to a climax. Maybe they are trying to get me to try to commit suicide again."

Anita walked with me hand-in-hand and listened intently. Then I started to get the urge to fight back.

"Maybe I should go to the FBI. After all, even you said you believed they used Dr. Cohen to set me up the first time."

Anita reacted violently to that comment. She pulled away from me and she tried to jerk he hand from mine. Then, in a state of panic she started screaming, "I never said that! I never said that!"

I couldn't believe the fear she had. The idea of publicly supporting me was terrifying to her. For the first time I realized how scared Anita was.

"Christ," I said. "You're so scared that if they gave you a gun and told you to shoot me, you would do it! I can't believe how sick this whole thing is."

I was totally disgusted and at the same time, Anita's violent reaction to what I had said made me even more apprehensive about what was going to happen at the conference. For a minute I thought about not going, but then I would have to explain everything at work and I had no "rational" explanation for not attending the conference. I decided to go to the conference and see what was planned.

NOTE: At this point I was seriously beginning to believe that the US Nazi government in conjunction with big business was the source of all my problems. But at that point in my life I really was not politically aware, and I did not understand the true nature of a FASCIST STATE, which america is. That is a state where government and industry work hand-in-hand against the working class. Remember, this was 1980 and most americans were unaware of this fascist system. Today, although most americans refuse to call it FASCISM, people are disgusted by the government/industry cabals.

The Conservative Nazi View of Marriage.
As the photopoymer conference grew near, the level of harassment at work was being escalated rapidly. In addition to the harassment, a sudden change in Osama's behavior took place. The week before the conference, Osama disappeared from sight. He was never in the office in the morning or late afternoon as he usually was, and I could not finnd him in the usual places such as the library or the laboratory. There were indications from items on his desk that he was at work, but for one solid week, I did not see Osama. This sudden change in behavior served to make me think of all sorts of possible reasons for the sudden change, but one thing did seem certain; his sudden disappearance was orchestrated to coincide with the increased level of harassment from other sources at work. When I asked co-workers about Osama's presence, they all expressed ignorance. It was one of those sudden changes that caused me great anxiety (see earlier posts about the effects of changes in a prisoners environment).

Another thing that bothered me was my manager Pat's almost daily insistence that I bring my tennis stuff to the conference. The contradiction between the increased level of harassment at work and Pat's social invitation was causing me great concern. I knew that "they" would not let me play tennis in that social environment, but I couldn't understand the reason for the constant insistence that I bring my tennis gear.

I tried to continue to carry out the routine things in my life, but it was becoming more and more difficult to do with the constant harassment with which I had to live. One day Anita and I were going grocery shopping and I was talking non-stop about the events at work. Finally we pulled into the parking lot and I turned off the car.

Anita sat there for a moment silent and then said, "Do you remember what your mother talked to you about? You know, if you just decided to disappear I would understand. You don't have to leave a note or anything."

Anita started to cry, "If you didn't show up at home someday, I would know what you did." she continued. The tears were flowing down her face as she finished.

"I know", was all I could reply.

The terrorism unfolds at the conference.
When I arrived at the resort where the conference was being held, I went to the registration desk to sign-up for the conference and to get my identification badge. I was in an anxious state and expected to be told I was not registered, but the process went smoothly. Then I asked the man at the registration desk to direct me to the meeting rooms were the seminars would be held. He gave me directions and I wandered off to find the meeting rooms. I carefully followed his directions and ended up in a dead-end hallway with no conference rooms. My anxiety level immediately jumped. Had he deliberately given me wrong directions?

I abandoned my search for the meeting rooms and headed directly to my room. When I got there, I began to unpack when I was hit with a second shock. I was missing my toothbrush and shaving cream! Those were the exact two items Anita had asked me about just before I left the house. It was way too much of a coincident, and it immediately had a terrorizing effect on me. Now I knew why Anita had insisted on packing my bags.

Immediately I knew why she had packed my tennis bag! I frantically opened my tennis bag and began searching for a pair of tennis sneakers other than the new ones I had thrown in the bag at the last minute. There was no other pair of sneakers. If I had not thrown the new pair of sneakers in the bag at the last minute, I would have been unequiped to play tennis. Pat would probably have asked me to play tennis and I would have been unable to accomodate him because of lack of sneakers. So simple. Arrange a social tennis match and then make it nearly impossible for me to fulfill my part. And of course, by using my wife to complete the scenario only served to make me look paranoid. No wonder Anita had incouraged me to "disappear" days before the conference. Being forced to do these things to me could not have been easy on her.

All sorts of thoughts ran through my mind and the anxiety and fear grew. What else did my sick captors have planned for me at the conference and how much more psychological terrorism could I take? I was in a fit of rage with anger toward Anita because of what she had done, and I threw my tennis bag across the room in a mixture of anger and despair.

I returned to the main building after I had calmed down and purchashed some shaving cream and a toothbrush. When I returned to my room I took two Haldol I still had left over from when I had been seeing Dr. Iron. I had taken the Haldol with me because I was afraid that "they" were going to arrange a psychotic episode for me at the conference. The changes which had occurred at work the week prior to the conference had alerted me that something was going to happen, and now the arranged, organized events were beginning to take place.
_______________________

I read today in the papers that some innocent villagers in Afghanistan had "accidentally" been killed by US military forces. From what I've read and heard, part of america's strategy is to terrorize the villagers by random killing. The reason I note this is because most people want to make some sort of political argument out such situations just as many americans feel the government was justified in tortureing me. The Bible says that Satan's last great evil empire will "persecute and spill the blood of many innocent victims". This is what america does, whether it is persecuting innocent people like me or whether america is killing innocent victims in the name of "liberty and freedom". The point is, be careful what you worship.

Strange events.
I returned to the main building and began looking for the conference rooms. My search took me to a large hall directly across from the registration desk. The location of the room made me even more suspicious of the directions I had been given earlier.

I had difficulty concentrating on the lectures, but I managed to sit through the talks. I had lost all interest in chemistry and as I sat there, I kept thinking how useless my attendance at the conference was because "they" were going to destroy my career anyway. At the break I joined everyone else for coffee and pastries, but I found that no one wanted to talk to me. I spotted Hun Wong in the crowd and started to walk towards him to strike up a conversation. He saw me coming and quickly turned and walked away, I pursued him briefly but it became apparent that he did not want to talk to me. I stood there alone in a crowd.

Just before lunch I ran into two RAM chemists from San Fransico whom I knew. I immediately struck up a conversation with them and found out that they were attending Klaus Closeau's lithography course.

"That's right." I responed. "I forgot that Klaus always teaches that course at this conference. I didn't see any signs for it. Where is it being held?"

"It is in the other building where the rooms are." One of the chemists answered.

"That's funny. I didn't see any meeting rooms over there. Where is it?" I asked.

"You get off the elevator on the second floor and make a right. It is right there," was the reply.

I didn't think any more of it and went to the cafeteria to have lunch. At lunch I was beginning to participate in the conversation and was discussing some chemistry with on the the San Fransico chemists when I noticed his manager sitting next to him, give him a sharp rap on his leg. The chemist quickly terminated the conversation and I sat there with no one to talk to. I interpreted the chemist's sudden change in behavior to mean that I was not to be included in the conversation.

That evening after the last presentation, I headed back to my room. On the way up in the elevator, I thought I'd stop and check out the lecture room where I had been told Klaus was lecturing. I got off at the second floor and made a right and ran into a wall! There were no rooms of any kind to the right of the elevator. I looked around the rest of the hall and the halls on the next two floors, but I could not find any lecture rooms. The whole incident seemed typical of the events that were going on at the conference.

Betrayal By The Person Closest to Me. How the Nazis operate.
The next day I attended the lectures and tended to stay away from people. I still couldn't understand why Anita had insisted on coming to the conference, but I called her to make sure she knew how to get there and also to remind her one last time to dress conservatively since this was a business function. The rest of the day I spent waiting for Anita to arrive. Even though I knew she was helping create my anxiety and I was angry at her, I needed someone to cling to and to ask for help. There was no one I was closer to than Anita.

Around five o'clock Anita arrived in the lobby. The first thing I noticed was that she had on her fur coat. I was angry yet so glad to see her.

"Where did you get that?" I asked.

"I got it out of storage. I thought you would like it?"

"Well, I don't need any more surprises." I exclaimed. "This conference has been a nightmare for me."

"Are you angry at me?" she queried. "What did I do?"

"Never mind. Let's just try to have a nice evening. Let's go back to the room."

We went back to the room, and I started to yell at Anita about everything. Then Anita started with what I knew was inevitable.

"Why don't you go back to see Dr. Iron?" "I'll call him and make the appointment. I'll do it tomorrow when I go back home. OK? I'll go with you."

"Yeah, create a paper history of 'mental illness' and then what do think the sick bastards will do?" I asked rhetorically.

I felt a sense of defeat again, but I was in no mood to argue. "Make the appointment and I'll go."

Since it was getting time to go to the banquet, Anita decided to change her clothes. When she came out of the bathroom she declared, "I'm ready to go!" I took one look at her and just about went into a state of shock. She was wearing a clinging, silky blouse with nothing on underneath it. It clearly showed off her ample figure. With the blouse she was wearing a tight, figure fitting skirt that was slit up to the thighs. She looked absolutely stunning, but she also looked like a high priced prostitute.

"Why the hell are you wearing that?" I yelled. I told you a dozen times to wear something conservative."

"Well this is conservative." she calmly replied. "What is the matter with what I have on?"

I couldn't believe what she was saying. Anita had gone to many business dinners with me before and she had always dressed tastefully. She definitely knew better and I could only interpret he actions as designed to make me more angry.

"I can't believe you are doing this to me." I said almost pleading.

"Russell, I don't know what you are talking about." she replied.

Her denial only served to infuriate me more. The terrible conflict which ran through me because of the love I had for my wife and the hate I had for her actions she was being forced to carry out, was enormous. Despite everything, I was determined to go to the banquet and socialize with the other RAM employees and their wives. I was determined to have Anita meet my co-workers.

Nazi Insanity - or how to hide your crimes.
We arrived at the banquet hall late and there were only a few seats left. As a result we were forced to sit at a table where there were only non-RAM employees. After the meal there was a speech, but I was too nervous to sit through it so Anita and I headed back to the room. On the way back to the room, I talked to Anita about going to the show at the club later that evening and possibly meeting some of my co-workers. Anita argued against it by saying she was too tired to go. She was determined not to go and socialize with my co-workers.

When we got back to the room we both fell asleep on the bed. About an hour later, I awoke and woke up Anita. I tried to get Anita up to get dressed for the club show, but she would not budge. I knew she must have been told to avoid sociallizing and this was her way to avoid it. Finally I was just too exhausted to fight with her anymore and I decided to just go back to sleep. Just as started to drift off I was awaken by the sound of running/dripping water. I got up and checked the bathroom and found nothing. The source seemed to be from an adjacent room, but it was hard to tell from where the sound was coming. The sound had not been there the previous night, and I wondered if the noise was not designed to keep me awake. Denying a person sleep is a common torture technique and "they" had used sleep deprivation before when I was at CoSteal and was phsically very sick. Whatever the source, it continued all night and I got very little sleep.

The next morning I could tell by the way Anita looked that she had not slept well either. Since I had to leave early to catch some seminars, we skipped breakfast. After a month of badger me, Anita had joined me at the conference and the only purpose it served was to cause me a lot of anxiety. It was all so well orchestrated to make me have a psychotic episode and now someone could tell me again how sick I was. I couldn't help but thinking the really sick people, my captors and tormentors were not getting any treatment. Anita left and I assured her I would be home late that afternoon.

After Anita left, I attended the rest of the lectures, but I had no interest in them. All I could thing about was the events that had happened and I wondered what other horrors "they" had in store for me.

The lectures ended at noon, but the conference officially ended in the late afternoon. This gave the attendees some time to use the recreational facilities. I was hoping to get some exercise to help relieve the stress, but as I expected Pat had not said a word to me about playing tennis. Since I had my sneakers with me the best way to avoid playing tennis with me was to totally ignore me. Early that afternoon I went looking for the tennis courts. When I located them, there was Pat and several other RAM employees playing. The all saw me, said a perfunctory "hi". but no one invited me to play. Since no one was going to ask me to play, I asked a couple of players who were standing around the courts if they wanted to hit some balls. They all declined. Since I was not going to play tennis, I decided to head home.

I headed home in a state of anxiety and apprehension. Apparently the conference and the time leading up to it had been used to create as much of a psychotic state as possible with the means available to my tormentors while at the same time have it look as though I was just mentally ill. For a moment or two I thought about driving off and just trying to hide like Anita had urged me to do. But I knew that was a worthless idea because my captor/tormentors would just find me and I would be faced with the same problems. Running and then having to face the same problems would just strengthen the position that I was mentally ill.

On the way home, I suddenly decided to stop in at the RAM office building and check my mail. Since it was still early in the afternoon, I had plenty of time to stop and still make it home by supper time. I went to my office and sorted through my mail. There was nothing of interest in the mail so I put it in my desk and headed out of the building. As an after thought, I decided to take a tour of the laboratory and see what was going on. As I entered the lab, there working at the bench in a white lab coat was Osama! In the preceeding year I had never seen Osama in the lab and I had never seen him in a white lab coat. In fact the only time I had seen him in the lab was when he was doing his marching through campaign that ended when I threatened to punch him out. And I hadn't seen him at all for at least two weeks before the conference. Now, when I showed up totally unexpectedly, there was Osama working in the lab. There were no other people in the lab. It seemed my absence from the lab had brought about a sudden change in Osama's behavior just as Buzz at Gamma Supplies had changed his behavior when I showed up at the fitness club unexpectedly. It clearly demonstrated how my environment was being carefully controlled and manipulated to create false beliefs and images. Or as my Nazi tormentors wanted to call it, my "mental illness".

I quickly left the laboratory and went home. I entered the house and went upstairs to the living room where Anita was standing, facing the fireplace. She turned around and I saw tears running down her cheecks.

"I was afraid that you weren't coming home," she said.

I hugged her and said "I know. I thought about running, but it wouldn't do any good. They have too much power and it would just be playing into their hands."

"It is so good to have you home," Anita said between sobs.

"I want to go up to my parents and get away from here this weekend. I had better call them and let them know we are coming."

"I called Dr. Iron. You have an appointment for next Wednesday evening"

"OK, I'll go," That's what the sick bastards want." I answered.

Note: The events leading up to and including the conference show the extent to which the Nazis who run this country will go to cover up their own insanity. And the fact that they would destroy anyone and everyone including my wife shows the extreme evil which these people are. It also solidified the best definition of POWER that I have ever heard. POWER IS THE ABILITY TO BE AS STUPID AND/OR INSANE AS YOU WANT TO BE. I was constantly amazed at the stupidity of these people. From the rigging of the federal trial to the belief that I would run in an effort to escape them or that they could convince me I was crazy. I knew I didn't have the resources to run from them(the Nazi American Government), but they believed they could get me to run and do some self- destructive action. That is, they could be as stupid/insane as they wanted to be because they had so much power that I couldn't do anything about it.

And whenever these ruling elitists do something stupid, it is the innocent, powerless people who pay a tremendous price. Look at how many innocent people have died in Iraq and Afgahnastan. No one ever says it, but it must have taken some really stupid decisions to sink GM. And look who pays the price - the working people. And the powerful ruling elite make big money for being stupid and powerful. And the biggest crime that you or I can do as a member of the slave/working class is call the emperor naked!

How Insane are the leaders of Nazi America?
With the safety and serenity of being home, I began to reflect on the events which had transpired. The fear and anxiety were now turning to anger. I started yelling at Anita.

"I can't believe "they" can still think they can convince me I'm mentally ill. This is just like something out of '1984'. The totalitarian state terrorizes a person until the victim says what the state wants him to say. IT'S STUPID!(see the previous post about power and stupidity). They have to be insane to conceive such a plan. They are really sick and they don't care or have any desire to change their course. Their script says I have to be mentally ill and believe it or they will keep terrorizing me until they kill me."

Then I turned to Anita. "And you, how could you do those things? How can you live with yourself?"

Anita was sitting on the bed with her head in her hands. She cried out, "How can things go so wrong? It's not suppose to be like this!"

"I know," I continued. "I'm suppose to believe I'm mentally ill and that none of this is happening. They are SICK!"

Anita just sat there with a hopeless look on her face and listened to me rant and rave.

"They jerk me around emotionally and terrorize me to make me psychotic and then they have my loving wife convince me to see a doctor so he can tell me how insane I am. How can anyone be so stupid(see my previous post on power and stupidity). How can anyone believe that would work? God they are sick. Do you realize how depressed I'm going to be when I come down from this adrenalin induced high? With all the adrenalin that's flowing now, when it stops I'll be so depressed. And they won't give me any antidepressants because "they" want me good and depressed to make it look real. Remind me when we go up to my parents to ask my mother for the anti-depressants she keeps in the cupboard. I have to have something to fight the depression when I come crashing down." (I can only guess that my mother was depressed because of my problems with the Nazi government.)

Anita said nothing.

NOTES: One of the problems my sick captors had was that I knew almost everything they were going to do before thay did it. I had told Anita some two and a half years earlier when we were leaving Gamma Supplies that "they" would say I was mentally ill. That is how "they" would hide their federal trial rigging scheme. What my ordeal demonstrates is that when you are up against overwhelming power, there is no way to defend yourself. The only "rational" route I ever had was to kill some of the son-of-bitches before they could create a paper trail of "mental illness". It was the only rational route left to me. If you read this and truly understand how Nazi America works, then workers who shot up their work place and suicide bombers in Iraq and other countries, don't seem so irrational. The victims are taking the only route other than surrender that is available to them. And the victims have to do it, otherwise the sick Nazis win. It is the victims only way out.

What Really Matters To The Ruling Fascists/ Or Why Nazi America is Floundering

2010-04-03T14:40:00.000-07:00

A week later, I was transferred to another building where I had a little more freedom. That's when my old problems resurfaced. On evening Anita showed up with an official copy of my Gamma Supplies deposition which had been mailed to my home. The deposition was accompanied by a letter which instructed me to edit and sign the deposition, have the signature notarized and then returned within fifteen days of the date of the letter. It did not take long to figure out that I had to sign the deposition at least a week before my scheduled release from Daniels House. Ther was no doube in my mind the sudden appearance of my deposition, which I swore I would never sign, was more than a coincidence. It had been almost two years since I gave the deposition and now it shows up for me to sign while I'm heavily drugged and locked up. Who could possibly have the power to influence the handling of court documents?!!

My first impulse was not to sign it, but I had been tortured so badly that I couldn't stand the thought of being abused anymore. In addition, I was under the influence of powerful drugs(major tranquilizers) which inhibited any desire to fight. I decided to sign the deposition and hoped that "they" would be appeased.
Anita also believed that "they" might be appeased if I signed the deposition and she urged me to do so.

At my next regular meeting with Dr. Cohen, I told him about the sudden unexpected appearance of the deposition. H asked what I had done with it, and I told him I had signed it without even looking at it. Dr. Cohen became visibly annoyed and demanded that I should edit it like the instructions said and then return it. At that point I would have done whatever anyone told me to do. I said I would follow his advice.

I now know understand why some fifty years after WWII, people still hunt down former German Nazi followers and bring them to trial. If the US government ever crumbles and the current ruling fascists are removed from power, I would be first in line to hunt down people like Dr. Cohen. They should be forced to face their crimes against humanity.

I mentioned that Anita and I both believed that by signing the deposition, my captors would be appeased. However, deep down I knew that my captors were driven by an insane obsessive hatred that could not be satisfied. It is the same insane obsessive hatred that caused Hitler to want to exterminate the Jews. And by blaming me for the failure of their stupid plans to rig a trial, my captors could rationalize their insanity because my Nazi captors had a perfect scapegoat - a defenseless slave. Remember that Hitler rationalized that the Jews were the source of all of Germany's problems. And just as Hitler tried to destroy the Jews, I knew my Nazi captors would not be happy until they had destroyed me.

Another unusual thing about my time at Daniels House was that none of the doctors or staff ever even bothered to ask me what had happened to me; they automatically treated me as though I was paranoid. A one point one of the resident psychiatrists, Dr. Luther said, "You know, you are much to trusting to be paranoid." I wanted to ask him why he thought I was like that, but any attempt to have a rational conversation about my situation was futile. I sat there quietly and kept my mouth shut.

One nurse did ask me why I slept so much. I told her that I was so heavily drugged, that I couldn't stay awake. She said she would check on my "medications". The next day I was informed that my "medications" would be reduced. The reduction in the dosages came after I had signed my deposition.

The day of my release hearing was approaching and I decided my best chance for release and a peaceful life was to go in and say how sick I had been, and that now I recognized how badly I needed help and to acknowledge all the fine help I had received at Daniels House. Several years later I saw the movie "Francis" and my role at the release hearing and the doctor's responses were almost identical to the release hearing portrayed in that movie. In the movie, Jessica Lange who portrays Francis Farmer, rehearses a humble, contrite speech where she confesses that she had been sick and thanks the doctors for their help in order to gain her release. Sitting there at the release hearing and admitting I had been mentally ill when there was rational evidence that I had been terrorized was very difficult to do, but I wanted to be released so desperately that I would have said anything. The whole process is nothing more that forcing a prisoner to be obsequious to those in power. Finally, on January 22nd, some thirty four days after I had been "voluntarily" admitted to the institution, I was released.

It is interesting to note, that the release hearing was recorded and the whole charade amounted to little more than the people in power covering their asses against any future lawsuit. After all, the victim, I mean patient did confess to his illness. As I said in an earlier post, most psychiatists should be tried for crimes against humanity and then executed.

On January 29, 1979 I returned to work with great apprehension. My whole approach to the situation was to maintain the position that I had been mentally ill and that my only goal was to get back to work and a normal life. I would not make any mention of someone trying to destroy my life, nor would I make any reference to all the events that had transpired over the previous months at RAM. My managers had informed me that my coworkers had been told I had been out for "personal reasons" and that no further discussion about the situation was necessary. Since I automatically assumed that everyone had a good idea where I had been, it made no difference to me what the official explanation was. I was just happy to be out of Daniels House.

The weeks after my release from Daniels House seemed fairly normal, and I was beginning to think that signing my deposition had solved the problems. When I saw the company doctor, I denied having any suspicions that people were plotting against me, and I maintained a healthy attitude. Everyone seemed pleased. I continued to see Dr. Cohen and NOW even he would talk about things that were occurring in my daily life. Still, despite all of the improvement, there were things happening at work that seemed to be orchestrated and intended to make things which had occurred in the past seem normal. It was what Cruz Little had termed "instant replay".

As I continued to get more confident, the anger grew. While I was able to maintain the front at work that I believed I had been mentally ill, at home I would have fits of rage and anger over what had been done to me. I would yell at Anita, "How could they be so stupid and insane? They are sick. They really believe they can convince me I'm mentally ill. It is so stupid."

"Don't you think they will go to hell for this?" Anita hopefully asked.

"I don't believe in hell. It's just a concept to comfort people who find themselves in a position like I'm in. Besides, if "they" believed in hell, they wouldn't do what they are doing." I snapped back.

Anita was being sympathetic and she was probably feeling a lot of guilt for her role in my torment.

I continued, "I mean they tried to kill me under the guise of an accident or suicide. Then they stick me in a hospital and said I was mentally ill. And they have me sign my deposition of testamony that they had programmed."

"They" are totally above the law; they change documents, they sign my name to things without my knowledge and they try to kill me and everyone just stands around and watches." I turned to Anita. "How could you do what you did?! You know you helped them try to kill me, don't you?"

Anita just looked at me and then walked over to the sofa and sat down with her hands between her knees and her head hung low. "What do you want me to do?" Do you want me to go to the FBI and tell them what happened?"

"That won't do any good." I replied. "I signed the deposition, and there is no proof that any of this has occurred. They'd still destroy us economically. We're better off just letting things be."

Note: REMEMBER, WE WERE MEMBERS OF THE WORKING SLAVE CLASS AND IN FASCIST AMERICA, THAT MEANS YOU HAVE NO RIGHTS. YOU ARE A SLAVE TO BE USED BY THE RULING FASCISTS AS THEY DESIRE.

I won't get into any discussions on religion other than to say American Christianity has evolved into a "you can have your cake and eat it to" religion. In other words, these neo-Nazis can go out an commit autrocious acts against humanity and then go to church and be forgiven. It just seems to me that there is something is wrong with that kind of religion. Remember, about 50% of "Christians" supported and voted for Hitler.

We were both upset, but I felt a little better knowing that for at least a moment, Anita was willing to stand by my side in the difficult situation we were in.

By mid March the anger over what had happened had become extreme, and I could not longer take talking to Dr. Cohen and having him tell me how sick I was. Now he spent his time talking about hobbies and unimportant topics while I was interested in talking about how I could deal with my anger and resultant depression. But, since according to Dr. Cohen's version of things there was no rational reason for my anger, there was nothing to talk about. Since my sessions with Dr. Cohen were just costing me money and getting me no where, I decided to stop seeing him.

I also decided to stop taking the Stelazine because of all of the "side effects" it was producing without helping with the anger. One side effect was extreme nervousness which made it almost impossible for me to function at work. I could barely sit still for a minute and that made it extremely difficult to write memos and reports. I felt that the Stelazine was causing more harm than good and I discontinued using it. What I really needed and wanted was someone I could talk to who would help me deal with what was happening to me. Of course, I knew my tormentors would never allow that because that would be an admission that I was not mentally ill. So for a while, I decided to go it alone.

Most Americans are unaware that they only ever hear one version of events and stories in the news. In mind control, it is imperative that only one version of events be allowed. No other possibility is allowed to exit. In my case, the only thought that I was allowed to hear was that I was mentally ill. Nothing else was allowed. And my insane, stupid captors believed that by totally controlling my environment and by allowing me to hear only one version of things, they could actually convice me that I was insane!!!! There is no way I can express the frustration this created and the contempt I had and still have to this day for my Nazi captors.

Another interesting thing is that at work, I had mananged to solve a major problem that RAM was having with a material used in manufacturing. When I first arrived, I was given about a three foot high pile of reports on research which had been done to solve this problem. Despite all of this effort, the problem had persisted. I was told at one point that if the problem could not be solved soon, RAM would have to shut down the production line at a cost of $100,000 A DAY. Despite all my other problems I was able to solve the problem and keep the production line running. My work was even praised by a Nobel prize winning scientist who had been brought in as a consultant on the problem. Subsequently, my peers told me that I should have been given a award for the work I had done. Still, to my Nazi captors the only thing they were interested in was destroying me and my life. Nothing else mattered to the ruling fascist driven by their insane, obsessive hatred.

The harassment at work had decreased, but there were still incidences of manipulation and the annoying, harrassing phone calls still continued. I could judge the level of harassment just by the number of annoying phone calls I would get per day. I was actually being conditioned to anticipate increased levels of harassment by the frequency of annoying phone calls. Whenever I started getting an increase in the annoying call at home, I knew I was in for increased harassment at work.

The harassment was being increased in regular cycles and once I became aware of this, I marked items down on a calendar and found that the harassment reached a maximum about every six weeks and then it would decrease. This apparently was to give me the "highs" and "lows" that are so common in manic depression or bipolar mental illness. Once I was aware of this pattern, attempts to cause me "highs" by manipulating my environment only caused me to become more depressed. One of the common techniques used to give me hope and a "high" was to tell me, usually by suggestion, that I was being considered for a management position. Remember, I originally took the job at Gamma Supplies because it was suppose to be a management position. By the spring of 1979, no suggestion about a management position, no matter how direct would not get me up for a period of time. It finally reached the point that the only thing that would give me "high" was the hope that the harassment would stop. Given the fact that at this point in time I had been receiving four or more harassing phone calls every day for over two years, I couldn't see an end to the terrorism.

In April 1979, during an approaching "high" period, my captors made a major mistake. I had calculated on my calendar that I was due for a "high" period, and I was wondering what "they" would do to pick up my spirits. As usual, the level of harassment decreased, and the people I worked with commenced talking with me. That seems like a minor thing, but when your environment is totally controlled to manipulate ones feelings, a person becomes very aware if people communicate with him. But lessening the level of harassment alone was not enough to give me a "high", and my tormentors were obviously aware of this. I was alone working in the laboratory one day when Dick Sawyer came in and we exchanged greetings. Then Dick blurted out, "What's wrong, Russ? You look down. Don't worry; you can forget all that Gamma Supplies stuff now. It's all over."

I was too depressed to react to what he had said, and I just said "Yeah" and went on with my work. I took his comment as an attempt to lift me up. Later, the significance of what he had said finally hit me. I had never told anyone at RAM about the Gamma Supplies stuff, and what what was suppose to be "over" now? The SUGGESTION was that the harassment was over. But Dick's comment was a major mistake. One of the constant arguments that had been used against me to prove I was mentally ill was that there could not possibly be any connection between RAM and Gamma Supplies. Bill was now admitting that he was aware of my Gamma Supplies problems. I had never discussed my Gamma Supplies problems with anyone at RAM and, in fact, I had not even told most of my coworkers where I had worked prior to coming to RAM. If anyone had asked, I would answer that I had worked for a small company in Chicago. I actually felt sorry that Dick had made such a statement because I knew the plan was, and always would be, that I was mentally ill. No other explanation was acceptable.

I will demonstrate in a later BLOG how manipulation of my environment and behavioral conditioning was used to control my reaction to medication. Really! That is, control of my environment could effect my emotional state as if I were reacting to medication I was suppose to be taking. Again, the total control of my environment was used to make me appear to be mentally ill. Unfortunately, my sick, deranged captors actually believed they could convince me that I was mentally ill by controlling my environment and mentally torturing me.

Soon after the "high" period, the harassment increased to generate a low. On one occasion I walked up to Hun Wong, a scientist from a sister research group and asked him a question. Hun just ignored me. I Thought that he hadn't heard me, and I repeated the question. Again Hun ignored me. This time I positioned myself directly in front of Hun so he was looking right at me, and in a loud voice I repeated the question. Again I got the same response. I started yelling trying to get any response from him, but Hun never acknowledged my presence. I walked away feeling totally frustrated and angery. If I had any thoughts that Hun's actions were of his own volition, those those thoughts were quickly removed when an identical incident occurred with another coworker.

I is ironic that I learned several years later in an RAM professional development course that some African tribes us non-communication as a form of punishment. If a tribe member commits a serious crime, no one will talk to the criminal, and eventually he goes insane, leaves the tribe and in many cases, kills himself. I found it ironic that in the so-called civilized corporate world the same technique was being used to make me mentally ill.

As with many of the torture techniques used on me, I would confirm my beliefs and reactions by testing the technique out on someone else. In this case, I used Anita as the victim. We were riding in the car when she started a conversation and asked a question. I ignored her. She did as I had done in that situation, she move over towards me and repeated the question. Again I ignored her. Now she was screaming the question at me in a hope to get a response. Again I ignored her. She became angery, agitated and didn't know what to do. I quickly put an end to her frustration by explaining why I hadn't answered her and that I wanted to if see her reaction was similar or the same as mine had been. She was not pleased, but it did confirm as usual that the techniques being used on me were designed to generate strong negative emotional reactions and make me "act" crazy.

In April, there was a management change and I was given a performance review by my former manager. I approached the review with great apprehension even though I had done an excellent job on the project I had been working on. In fact, a Senior Engineer and several coworkers had told me that I should have been given at least an inform award for the work I had done in solving a very major problem for the manufacturing site. Part of my anger stemmed from the fact that I was making a major contribution to RAM manufacturing, and I was still receiving such horrendous treatment. As at Gamma Supplies, my treatment in no way related to my job performance. Despite my excellent job performance, I was unsure as to what my performance rating would be. In the insane world I was living in anything was possible if it served to create stress.

My actual review was neither the good rating I felt I deserved, nor the poor rating I feared. But rather, the rating was in the middle of the road evaluation. I was just relieved that on a normal legitimate basis, I was safe for another year. The threat and suggestion made at Gamma Supplies that I would never work again were always in the back of my mind.

My displeasure with Osama was again increasing. Suddenly, Osama acted as if he were some sort of elite person. He never worked in the laboratory, in my presence, and he made frequent derogatory remarks to me about the fact that I worked in the laboratory. In mid 1979, Osama started acting and talking as if he were the manager of the department. No longer did my new manager, Pat Clover (a male) give me information, but now all information came to me through Osama. This technique wa similar to the Darth Korey/Jay Wells pattern which had been set up at Gamma Supplies. In additon, Osama started the habit of marching through the laboratory at exactly nine A. M., eleven A. M., one P. M., and three P. M. everyday as if he were a military commander inspecting the troops. His behavior was very irritating, and I assumed his actions were designed and orchestrated to create those
feelings. Unlike a normal situation where coworkers would ordinarily comment on his unusual behavior, no one said a word. This confirmed that his actions were planned.

Despite the fact that I knew his actions were meant to provoke, they still caused extreme anger. Finally one day after his march through the laboratory, I said to a co-worker standing in the laboratory, "If he marches through here one more time like that, I'm going to punch his lights out." At the next scheduled march through the laboratory, Osama came around the corner, saw me standing in his way and quickly reversed his direction. That was the last time he marched through the laboratory. His actions, like so many of the previous irritating incidences ceased. It was the same technique that had been used so frequently at Gamma Supplies. "They" orchestrated and action to evoke a strong emotional response, and then once the response was obtained, the action ceased. Getting my emotions the run out of control was all part of the overall plan to create mental illness. It seemed like the sickos wouldn't be happy until they had made me as sick as they already were.

By mid June I could not take being tormented anymore. One evening I was standing in the bedroom yelling at my wife. I was screaming, "I can't believe they are so insane. They will keep on tormenting me until I really believe I'm crazy or the do drive me totally insane. They don't care and there is no way to stop them. I can't take it anymore! I have to have some peace of mind. I don't care about you, this house or anything other than having some peace. I'm just going to give up everything and return to Scranton.

Anita sat there with a blank look on her face. What could she do?! She was part of the problem, and we both knew it.

"Will you wait until this weekend?" she asked.

I was still screaming. "Of course I will. I have to talk to my parents first."

That night I got a phone call in the middle of the night, and when I answered the phone no one was there - just the usual dial tone. The next morning I was so angry at all of the annoying phone calls that I ripped the phone out of the wall. I now lived in a constant state of rage, and I was afraid I might hurt someone. I had to get away.

NOTE: This past week I read where a disgruntled worker went into the work place and shot up the place and killed three people. His only mistake was he didn't kill ruling fascists. I do not believe in nor advocate violence as a solution to most problems, but one regret I have to his day is that I didn't take a gun and go into Gamma Supplies and kill Darth Korey, Jay Wells and several other members of the management team. Knowing thirty plus years later what the insane fascist rulers had planned for me and now knowing what a joke the american justice system is, the final solution was probably the best one. Darth Korey would never have had another opportunity to spread his evil, the lawsuit would have become a mess and secondary, and the fascists rulers would have been sent a strong message that their insanity would not be tolerated. I truly regret not having done that because in hindsight it probably was the best solution for me. I still believe in nonviolence as the best course of action, but when faced with insane captors like I faced, I know of no other way to resolve the situation.

US Government Nazi Torture to Cover Up Their Crimes Against Its Citizens!

2010-01-17T08:29:00.000-08:00

My captors are experts in the field of mental torture and psychological warfare. That is what they do. They knew that with prolonged mental torture I would either try to kill myself or try to kill someone else. They didn't care. Either way, if I or someone else died, "they" would be rid of me and then "they" could use legally use my unsigned sworn testamony in a court of law. The object was to make it all LOOK legal.

Studies conducted at UCLA confirmed that mental torture is just as painful to the victim as is physical torture. Except that with physical torture, if the pain becomes too great, the victim losses consciousness. With mental torture, the victime expresses rage and frequently commits acts of violence either against himself(suicide) or against others(murder). In the latter case, the Nazi government can then use the murder(s)as a reason to imprison the torture victim. Just another criminal locked away and no mention is ever made of mental torture or of the existence of a Political Prisoner. This is how the system works and the Nazi american government can do this because of its great wealth. I costs millions of dollars to trap, socially confine and torture a victim for several years. But you the tax payer pays for it and the torturers get to have fun. Even the Cuban government was somewhat surprised that a government would go to such an expense just to hide their hideous acts. I'll tell you about that later.

One of the first examples of "going postal" happened an Oklahoma Post Office. I'm not sure what happened to the shooter in that case, but subsequent investigations by the postal workers union uncovered management memos directing acts of hararssment against the man that finally snapped. Frequently the victim shoots coworker(other slaves)in an act of rage, but the Nazi gestapo agents make sure that no one from the ruling fascist class is ever harmed. They take great care to protect the ruling elite.

Back to my story about how the Nazi government gets testamony from "hostile" witnesses.

The Thorazine dosage was so strong that an hour after I took it all I wanted to do was sleep. I fact, the first week I spent in the hospital my biggest problem was just trying to stay awake. All I could think about was that I didn't belong in the hospital and that if my external environment were normal, there would not be anything wrong with me. But all of that was irrelevant because all of the staff and doctors treated me as a patient with serious mental problems. I was amazed at how irrelevant the outside world became once you were confined in a mental institution, and I could readily see how a person could be kept confined indefinitely with little recourse.

I finally got an appointment to see the doctor and was informed that I had signed "voluntary" committment papers. I asked to see the papers that I had been to drunk to read when I signed them, but my request was denied!!! Then I was informed that I was to be "treated" for five to six weeks and then I would be released. The fact that I couldn't even see the papers I had signed told me that my confinement was not voluntary. I wonder what my "treatment" would be and why was the six week time period imposed. The five to six weeks meant the earliest I would get out would be late January.

I was also informed that Dr. Cohen would by my analyst while I was confined and that none of the hospital staff doctors would treat me! I found that very peculiar, and it also increased my financial burden since Dr. Cohen charged me twice his usual rate to visit me at Daniel's House. What was peculiar too, was that I was not invited to participate in any of the group therapy sessions where people discussed their problems in front of other patients. The other patients found this very strange too since everyone else I talked to had group therapy. What it amounted to was that I was kept drugged and confined and my treatment besides the drugs would be talking with Dr. Cohen who I felt helped put there in the first place. This scenario served the purpose of keeping the events in my life confined to a closed group. Ahhh, isn't Nazi america wonderful!

How US Nazi Government Obtains Court Testamony.

A week later, I was transferred to another building where I had a little more freedom. That's when my old problems resurfaced. On evening Anita showed up with an official copy of my Gamma Supplies deposition which had been mailed to my home. The deposition was accompanied by a letter which instructed me to edit and sign the deposition, have the signature notarized and then returned within fifteen days of the date of the letter. It did not take long to figure out that I had to sign the deposition at least a week before my scheduled release from Daniels House. Ther was no doube in my mind the sudden appearance of my deposition, which I swore I would never sign, was more than a coincidence. It had been almost two years since I gave the deposition and now it shows up for me to sign while I'm heavily drugged and locked up. Who could possibly have the power to influence the handling of court documents?!!

My first impulse was not to sign it, but I had been tortured so badly that I couldn't stand the thought of being abused anymore. In addition, I was under the influence of powerful drugs(major tranquilizers) which inhibited any desire to fight. I decided to sign the deposition and hoped that "they" would be appeased.
Anita also believed that "they" might be appeased if I signed the deposition and she urged me to do so.

At my next regular meeting with Dr. Cohen, I told him about the sudden unexpected appearance of the deposition. H asked what I had done with it, and I told him I had signed it without even looking at it. Dr. Cohen became visibly annoyed and demanded that I should edit it like the instructions said and then return it. At that point I would have done whatever anyone told me to do. I said I would follow his advice.

I now know understand why some fifty years after WWII, people still hunt down former German Nazi followers and bring them to trial. If the US government ever crumbles and the current ruling fascists are removed from power, I would be first in line to hunt down people like Dr. Cohen. They should be forced to face their crimes against humanity.

Psychiatric Terrorism

I mentioned that Anita and I both believed that by signing the deposition, my captors would be appeased. However, deep down I knew that my captors were driven by an insane obsessive hatred that could not be satisfied. It is the same insane obsessive hatred that caused Hitler to want to exterminate the Jews. And by blaming me for the failure of their stupid plans to rig a trial, my captors could rationalize their insanity because my Nazi captors had a perfect scapegoat - a defenseless slave. Remember that Hitler rationalized that the Jews were the source of all of Germany's problems. And just as Hitler tried to destroy the Jews, I knew my Nazi captors would not be happy until they had destroyed me.

Another unusual thing about my time at Daniels House was that none of the doctors or staff ever even bothered to ask me what had happened to me; they automatically treated me as though I was paranoid. A one point one of the resident psychiatrists, Dr. Luther said, "You know, you are much to trusting to be paranoid." I wanted to ask him why he thought I was like that, but any attempt to have a rational conversation about my situation was futile. I sat there quietly and kept my mouth shut.

One nurse did ask me why I slept so much. I told her that I was so heavily drugged, that I couldn't stay awake. She said she would check on my "medications". The next day I was informed that my "medications" would be reduced. The reduction in the dosages came after I had signed my deposition.

The day of my release hearing was approaching and I decided my best chance for release and a peaceful life was to go in and say how sick I had been, and that now I recognized how badly I needed help and to acknowledge all the fine help I had received at Daniels House. Several years later I saw the movie "Francis" and my role at the release hearing and the doctor's responses were almost identical to the release hearing portrayed in that movie. In the movie, Jessica Lange who portrays Francis Farmer, rehearses a humble, contrite speech where she confesses that she had been sick and thanks the doctors for their help in order to gain her release. Sitting there at the release hearing and admitting I had been mentally ill when there was rational evidence that I had been terrorized was very difficult to do, but I wanted to be released so desperately that I would have said anything. The whole process is nothing more that forcing a prisoner to be obsequious to those in power. Finally, on January 22nd, some thirty four days after I had been "voluntarily" admitted to the institution, I was released.

It is interesting to note, that the release hearing was recorded and the whole charade amounted to little more than the people in power covering their asses against any future lawsuit. After all, the victim, I mean patient did confess to his illness. As I said in an earlier post, most psychiatists should be tried for crimes against humanity and then executed.

FASCIST AMERICA
On January 29, 1979 I returned to work with great apprehension. My whole approach to the situation was to maintain the position that I had been mentally ill and that my only goal was to get back to work and a normal life. I would not make any mention of someone trying to destroy my life, nor would I make any reference to all the events that had transpired over the previous months at RAM. My managers had informed me that my coworkers had been told I had been out for "personal reasons" and that no further discussion about the situation was necessary. Since I automatically assumed that everyone had a good idea where I had been, it made no difference to me what the official explanation was. I was just happy to be out of Daniels House.

The weeks after my release from Daniels House seemed fairly normal, and I was beginning to think that signing my deposition had solved the problems. When I saw the company doctor, I denied having any suspicions that people were plotting against me, and I maintained a healthy attitude. Everyone seemed pleased. I continued to see Dr. Cohen and NOW even he would talk about things that were occurring in my daily life. Still, despite all of the improvement, there were things happening at work that seemed to be orchestrated and intended to make things which had occurred in the past seem normal. It was what Cruz Little had termed "instant replay".

As I continued to get more confident, the anger grew. While I was able to maintain the front at work that I believed I had been mentally ill, at home I would have fits of rage and anger over what had been done to me. I would yell at Anita, "How could they be so stupid and insane? They are sick. They really believe they can convince me I'm mentally ill. It is so stupid."

"Don't you think they will go to hell for this?" Anita hopefully asked.

"I don't believe in hell. It's just a concept to comfort people who find themselves in a position like I'm in. Besides, if "they" believed in hell, they wouldn't do what they are doing." I snapped back.

Anita was being sympathetic and she was probably feeling a lot of guilt for her role in my torment.

I continued, "I mean they tried to kill me under the guise of an accident or suicide. Then they stick me in a hospital and said I was mentally ill. And they have me sign my deposition of testamony that they had programmed."

"They" are totally above the law; they change documents, they sign my name to things without my knowledge and they try to kill me and everyone just stands around and watches." I turned to Anita. "How could you do what you did?! You know you helped them try to kill me, don't you?"

Anita just looked at me and then walked over to the sofa and sat down with her hands between her knees and her head hung low. "What do you want me to do?" Do you want me to go to the FBI and tell them what happened?"

"That won't do any good." I replied. "I signed the deposition, and there is no proof that any of this has occurred. They'd still destroy us economically. We're better off just letting things be."

Note: REMEMBER, WE WERE MEMBERS OF THE WORKING SLAVE CLASS AND IN FASCIST AMERICA, THAT MEANS YOU HAVE NO RIGHTS. YOU ARE A SLAVE TO BE USED BY THE RULING FASCISTS AS THEY DESIRE.

I won't get into any discussions on religion other than to say American Christianity has evolved into a "you can have your cake and eat it to" religion. In other words, these neo-Nazis can go out an commit autrocious acts against humanity and then go to church and be forgiven. It just seems to me that there is something is wrong with that kind of religion. Remember, about 50% of "Christians" supported and voted for Hitler.

What Really Matters To The Ruling Fascists/ Or Why Nazi America is Floundering
We were both upset, but I felt a little better knowing that for at least a moment, Anita was willing to stand by my side in the difficult situation we were in.

By mid March the anger over what had happened had become extreme, and I could not longer take talking to Dr. Cohen and having him tell me how sick I was. Now he spent his time talking about hobbies and unimportant topics while I was interested in talking about how I could deal with my anger and resultant depression. But, since according to Dr. Cohen's version of things there was no rational reason for my anger, there was nothing to talk about. Since my sessions with Dr. Cohen were just costing me money and getting me no where, I decided to stop seeing him.

I also decided to stop taking the Stelazine because of all of the "side effects" it was producing without helping with the anger. One side effect was extreme nervousness which made it almost impossible for me to function at work. I could barely sit still for a minute and that made it extremely difficult to write memos and reports. I felt that the Stelazine was causing more harm than good and I discontinued using it. What I really needed and wanted was someone I could talk to who would help me deal with what was happening to me. Of course, I knew my tormentors would never allow that because that would be an admission that I was not mentally ill. So for a while, I decided to go it alone.

Most Americans are unaware that they only ever hear one version of events and stories in the news. In mind control, it is imperative that only one version of events be allowed. No other possibility is allowed to exit. In my case, the only thought that I was allowed to hear was that I was mentally ill. Nothing else was allowed. And my insane, stupid captors believed that by totally controlling my environment and by allowing me to hear only one version of things, they could actually convice me that I was insane!!!! There is no way I can express the frustration this created and the contempt I had and still have to this day for my Nazi captors.

Another interesting thing is that at work, I had mananged to solve a major problem that RAM was having with a material used in manufacturing. When I first arrived, I was given about a three foot high pile of reports on research which had been done to solve this problem. Despite all of this effort, the problem had persisted. I was told at one point that if the problem could not be solved soon, RAM would have to shut down the production line at a cost of $100,000 A DAY. Despite all my other problems I was able to solve the problem and keep the production line running. My work was even praised by a Nobel prize winning scientist who had been brought in as a consultant on the problem. Subsequently, my peers told me that I should have been given a award for the work I had done. Still, to my Nazi captors the only thing they were interested in was destroying me and my life. Nothing else mattered to the ruling fascist driven by their insane, obsessive hatred.

Can a totally sick environment create mental illness?

The harassment at work had decreased, but there were still incidences of manipulation and the annoying, harrassing phone calls still continued. I could judge the level of harassment just by the number of annoying phone calls I would get per day. I was actually being conditioned to anticipate increased levels of harassment by the frequency of annoying phone calls. Whenever I started getting an increase in the annoying call at home, I knew I was in for increased harassment at work.

Tribal techniques used in Corporate America.

Soon after the "high" period, the harassment increased to generate a low. On one occasion I walked up to Hun Wong, a scientist from a sister research group and asked him a question. Hun just ignored me. I Thought that he hadn't heard me, and I repeated the question. Again Hun ignored me. This time I positioned myself directly in front of Hun so he was looking right at me, and in a loud voice I repeated the question. Again I got the same response. I started yelling trying to get any response from him, but Hun never acknowledged my presence. I walked away feeling totally frustrated and angery. If I had any thoughts that Hun's actions were of his own volition, those those thoughts were quickly removed when an identical incident occurred with another coworker.

I is ironic that I learned several years later in an RAM professional development course that some African tribes us non-communication as a form of punishment. If a tribe member commits a serious crime, no one will talk to the criminal, and eventually he goes insane, leaves the tribe and in many cases, kills himself. I found it ironic that in the so-called civilized corporate world the same technique was being used to make me mentally ill.

As with many of the torture techniques used on me, I would confirm my beliefs and reactions by testing the technique out on someone else. In this case, I used Anita as the victim. We were riding in the car when she started a conversation and asked a question. I ignored her. She did as I had done in that situation, she move over towards me and repeated the question. Again I ignored her. Now she was screaming the question at me in a hope to get a response. Again I ignored her. She became angery, agitated and didn't know what to do. I quickly put an end to her frustration by explaining why I hadn't answered her and that I wanted to if see her reaction was similar or the same as mine had been. She was not pleased, but it did confirm as usual that the techniques being used on me were designed to generate strong negative emotional reactions and make me "act" crazy.

In April, there was a management change and I was given a performance review by my former manager. I approached the review with great apprehension even though I had done an excellent job on the project I had been working on. In fact, a Senior Engineer and several coworkers had told me that I should have been given at least an inform award for the work I had done in solving a very major problem for the manufacturing site. Part of my anger stemmed from the fact that I was making a major contribution to RAM manufacturing, and I was still receiving such horrendous treatment. As at Gamma Supplies, my treatment in no way related to my job performance. Despite my excellent job performance, I was unsure as to what my performance rating would be. In the insane world I was living in anything was possible if it served to create stress.

My actual review was neither the good rating I felt I deserved, nor the poor rating I feared. But rather, the rating was in the middle of the road evaluation. I was just relieved that on a normal legitimate basis, I was safe for another year. The threat and suggestion made at Gamma Supplies that I would never work again were always in the back of my mind.

The harassment was being increased in regular cycles and once I became aware of this, I marked items down on a calendar and found that the harassment reached a maximum about every six weeks and then it would decrease. This apparently was to give me the "highs" and "lows" that are so common in manic depression or bipolar mental illness. Once I was aware of this pattern, attempts to cause me "highs" by manipulating my environment only caused me to become more depressed. One of the common techniques used to give me hope and a "high" was to tell me, usually by suggestion, that I was being considered for a management position. Remember, I originally took the job at Gamma Supplies because it was suppose to be a management position. By the spring of 1979, no suggestion about a management position, no matter how direct would not get me up for a period of time. It finally reached the point that the only thing that would give me "high" was the hope that the harassment would stop. Given the fact that at this point in time I had been receiving four or more harassing phone calls every day for over two years, I couldn't see an end to the terrorism.

In April 1979, during an approaching "high" period, my captors made a major mistake. I had calculated on my calendar that I was due for a "high" period, and I was wondering what "they" would do to pick up my spirits. As usual, the level of harassment decreased, and the people I worked with commenced talking with me. That seems like a minor thing, but when your environment is totally controlled to manipulate ones feelings, a person becomes very aware if people communicate with him. But lessening the level of harassment alone was not enough to give me a "high", and my tormentors were obviously aware of this. I was alone working in the laboratory one day when Dick Sawyer came in and we exchanged greetings. Then Dick blurted out, "What's wrong, Russ? You look down. Don't worry; you can forget all that Gamma Supplies stuff now. It's all over."

I was too depressed to react to what he had said, and I just said "Yeah" and went on with my work. I took his comment as an attempt to lift me up. Later, the significance of what he had said finally hit me. I had never told anyone at RAM about the Gamma Supplies stuff, and what what was suppose to be "over" now? The SUGGESTION was that the harassment was over. But Dick's comment was a major mistake. One of the constant arguments that had been used against me to prove I was mentally ill was that there could not possibly be any connection between RAM and Gamma Supplies. Bill was now admitting that he was aware of my Gamma Supplies problems. I had never discussed my Gamma Supplies problems with anyone at RAM and, in fact, I had not even told most of my coworkers where I had worked prior to coming to RAM. If anyone had asked, I would answer that I had worked for a small company in Chicago. I actually felt sorry that Dick had made such a statement because I knew the plan was, and always would be, that I was mentally ill. No other explanation was acceptable.

I will demonstrate in a later BLOG how manipulation of my environment and behavioral conditioning was used to control my reaction to medication. Really! That is, control of my environment could effect my emotional state as if I were reacting to medication I was suppose to be taking. Again, the total control of my environment was used to make me appear to be mentally ill. Unfortunately, my sick, deranged captors actually believed they could convince me that I was mentally ill by controlling my environment and mentally torturing me.

Create strong emotions by design.

My displeasure with Osama was again increasing. Suddenly, Osama acted as if he were some sort of elite person. He never worked in the laboratory, in my presence, and he made frequent derogatory remarks to me about the fact that I worked in the laboratory. In mid 1979, Osama started acting and talking as if he were the manager of the department. No longer did my new manager, Pat Clover (a male) give me information, but now all information came to me through Osama. This technique wa similar to the Darth Korey/Jay Wells pattern which had been set up at Gamma Supplies. In additon, Osama started the habit of marching through the laboratory at exactly nine A. M., eleven A. M., one P. M., and three P. M. everyday as if he were a military commander inspecting the troops. His behavior was very irritating, and I assumed his actions were designed and orchestrated to create those
feelings. Unlike a normal situation where coworkers would ordinarily comment on his unusual behavior, no one said a word. This confirmed that his actions were planned.

Despite the fact that I knew his actions were meant to provoke, they still caused extreme anger. Finally one day after his march through the laboratory, I said to a co-worker standing in the laboratory, "If he marches through here one more time like that, I'm going to punch his lights out." At the next scheduled march through the laboratory, Osama came around the corner, saw me standing in his way and quickly reversed his direction. That was the last time he marched through the laboratory. His actions, like so many of the previous irritating incidences ceased. It was the same technique that had been used so frequently at Gamma Supplies. "They" orchestrated and action to evoke a strong emotional response, and then once the response was obtained, the action ceased. Getting my emotions the run out of control was all part of the overall plan to create mental illness. It seemed like the sickos wouldn't be happy until they had made me as sick as they already were.

By mid June I could not take being tormented anymore. One evening I was standing in the bedroom yelling at my wife. I was screaming, "I can't believe they are so insane. They will keep on tormenting me until I really believe I'm crazy or the do drive me totally insane. They don't care and there is no way to stop them. I can't take it anymore! I have to have some peace of mind. I don't care about you, this house or anything other than having some peace. I'm just going to give up everything and return to Scranton.

Anita sat there with a blank look on her face. What could she do?! She was part of the problem, and we both knew it.

"Will you wait until this weekend?" she asked.

I was still screaming. "Of course I will. I have to talk to my parents first."

That night I got a phone call in the middle of the night, and when I answered the phone no one was there - just the usual dial tone. The next morning I was so angry at all of the annoying phone calls that I ripped the phone out of the wall. I now lived in a constant state of rage, and I was afraid I might hurt someone. I had to get away.

NOTE: This past week I read where a disgruntled worker went into the work place and shot up the place and killed three people. His only mistake was he didn't kill ruling fascists. I do not believe in nor advocate violence as a solution to most problems, but one regret I have to his day is that I didn't take a gun and go into Gamma Supplies and kill Darth Korey, Jay Wells and several other members of the management team. Knowing thirty plus years later what the insane fascist rulers had planned for me and now knowing what a joke the american justice system is, the final solution was probably the best one. Darth Korey would never have had another opportunity to spread his evil, the lawsuit would have become a mess and secondary, and the fascists rulers would have been sent a strong message that their insanity would not be tolerated. I truly regret not having done that because in hindsight it probably was the best solution for me. I still believe in nonviolence as the best course of action, but when faced with insane captors like I faced, I know of no other way to resolve the situation.

AMERICA: THE TRUE BIBLICAL EMPIRE OF EVIL

2009-12-27T06:03:00.000-08:00

America - The True Biblical Empire of Evil
While fear and hatred might be reasons for the insane powerbrokers to destroy my life and me, the ultimate reason was the LOVE OF MONEY. While the Bible lists many types of sin, it only states one cause of ALL EVIL. "The love of money is the root of all evil." And what is the basis of america? What is its distinguishing nature of america - Capitalism! And what is capitalism about? The love of money. And what was the trial rigging that I had been involved in all about? The Love Of Money!

While my captors and would be executioners are brilliant at making money; they made hundred of millions of dollars for their corporations over the years by rigging the trial and programing my testamony which was used at the trial, they are evil to the core and are stupid about human life, God and people. And many religions in its quest for political power, have twisted the teachings of Christ to conform to supporting the evil american empire. After all, the Bible defines Satan's last, great world conquering empire as america. But that's another story. I said from day one, my demise was all about the love of money. And of course, if I survived, my punishment for not worshipping evil would be a life of deprevation without money.

I left Enie's place feeling even worse than when I arrived. I could not even trust the advice of one of my oldest friends and he had revealed the the Nazi powerbrokers
were blaming me for their failings. This was meant to generate guilt which is a very important ingredient in menticide*. I remembered how at Gamma Supplies when anything went wrong or there were problems, no matter how rediculuous it seemed, the problem was my fault. Now the sick bastards were making it look like I was a deserving recipient of the torture and terror to which I was being subjected. How much worse could things ultimately get???

*MENTICIDE is a term used by Joost Abreham Meerloo in his book, "The Rape Of The Mind". I quote: "Menticide is an old crime against the human mind and spirit but systematized anew. It is an organized system of psychological intervention and judicial perversion through which a powerful dictator can imprint his own opportunistic thoughts upon those he plans to use and destroy."

It is interesting to note that Meerloo's first example is about Nazi Germany.

Costly repairs and a "Good Luck"
I returned home and went back to RAM expecting more of the same and I was not disappointed. At home, we found a repairman to fix our broken appliances. He repaired the washer and dryer without much trouble, but the coils on the refrigerator had been broken to the point that they were nearly beyond repair. He said the refrigerator might work and then spent a considerable amount of time repairing the damage. After he had completed the work, he commented about the extent of the damage and then as he was leaving he unexpectedly extended his hand to shake mine.

Then he said, "Boy, I don't know what you did, but good luck."

The amazing thing was that I was beginning to believe that I had done something wrong. I felt that I was indeed to blame for my predicament. It is interesting when you see a newscast about someone who is robbed, beaten and terrorized, you automatically think that the low-life criminals are to blame and they should be put in jail or worse. But, when low-life powerbrokers destroy someone's life, and they rob and terrorize a victim, people tend to think the victim is a deserving receipient. It goes back to Stanely Millgram's "Obedience To Authority". If the powerbrokers say the victim is deserving of the torture, then people just accept it. In other words, right and wrong is defined by who is doing the terrorism and torture in the mind's of most people. This concept that right and wrong are relative, is how Nazi states are born.

The TV repair was another major problem. When the repairman came to our house, he said the 23 inch picture tube(this is 1978) had to be replaced, and the cost would be two hundred and fifty dollars. Then he told me it would take 3-4 weeks to replace the tube. When I questioned himn as to the reason for the long time to replace an RCA picture tube, the repairman became very uneasy. He had no answer and took the TV. He said he would call us when it was ready.

That evening evening Anita and I went shopping and we happened to drive past the TV repair shop. I stopped, went in and identified myself to the man behind the desk. He inquired into the nature of my problem and when I told him about the TV, he assured me that it could be fixed in three to four days. Just then the repair man who had picked up the TV walked into the room. The man at the desk that I had just talked to begain drilling the repairman as to why he had said it would take three to four weeks to replace a picture tube. The two got into a heated argument, and the repairman supporting the three to four weeks position had no real reason for the long time other that that was the way things were. Finally the man at the desk said it would be three to four weeks although he didn't know why. I left the shop feeling that "they" were somehow involved.

I Decided to address "my problem"
The next day at work, I went into John's office and told him I had decided to see a Ph.D. psychologist about my problem. John offered to make an appointment to see the company doctor again, but I declined and said I would see my own doctor. John said he was glad I was taking care of my serious problem.

The events at work continued to occur and involved more and more people. On day while I was out of the office an old friend from graduate school who lived in the area called me. Usually no one took my calls or told me anything, but this was different. When I returned to my office, there was a note on my desk that Barry Grinie from Exxon had called. I threw the note away because I knew "they" would not allow me to have any social interactions because "they" had always made every effort to isolate me. Soon Osama came in and told me Barry Grinie had called. Then the secretary told me the same thing as did two people from an adjacent office. For weeks no one had take a single call for me even though I had received some and now suddenly everyone was telling me about one call. The whole incident seemed orchestrated.

After a lot of internal conflict, I decided to give Barry a call. Barry had been in the same entering class at graduated school and had worked for the same research advisor. While at graduate school we had paried and dined together, and after we went our separate ways we had kept in touch. I had known Barry was in the area, but under the circumstances I had decided not to contact him. Now he had initiated the contact. I returned Barry's call and he was glad to hear from me and was very aggressive about getting together with our wives as soon as possible. I told him I was having a garage sale the next weekend, but anytime after that would be fine. I was relieved that the situation was normal and the whole thing had not been a set-up the way "they" usually did things. My relief however, would be short lived.

Isolation - A key element of mental torture!
That weekend at our garage sale, Barry showed up. He was his usual happy, friendly self and demanded a tour of our new house. I was thrilled to have a normal relationship with an old friend and we must have talked for over an hour. Finally, on his insistance, I agreed to call him the following evening so we could make some concrete plans for getting together in the near future.

The next evening I went to the neighbor's house to use their phone to call Barry. I still didn't have a phone because of the incessant harassing phone calls. Immediately when we started to talk, I could tell something was wrong. Barry was no longer enthusiastic and he seemed somewhat distant instead of his warm friendly self. We started talking about getting together, but every weekend I mentioned, Barry had some excuse. After trying about four different dates, I mentioned that maybe we should just wait for the holidays. Barry quickly agreed with that suggestion and said he would give me a call around Christmas. I hung up feeling depressed and knowing that "they" had somehow intervened and were determined to keep me isolated. Barry's sudden reversal in his interest to get together just did not seem right. But of course, I couldn't prove anything.

Shortly after we moved into our house and received our furniture, my relationship with Anita began to change. Somewhat to my surprise, Anita was now beginning to question things I said. In particular I became angry when she questioned my belief that I was being isolated. We were taking a walk around the block one evening and I was discussing my predicament as usual.

"I can accept never having the opportunity to be a manager, and I can learn to accept that I was used as a witness, but I can't live with having all of my friends taken away. I don't have a single friend at RAM(as was the case at Gamma Supplies).

Anita interrupted me. "You never did have any friends before. No one is trying to isolate you."

Anger raged in me. "What do you mean I never had any friends! When we lived in Philadelphia(prior to Gamma Supplies), I played tennis, we had people over for dinner and we went to company functions with other people. Of course I had friends! But now no matter what I do, I'm rejected.

Anita did not argue with me anymore.

To Be Paranoid, EVERYONE must be against you!
Due to Anita's apparent growing skepticism, I decided Anita should attend my weekly visits to the psychologist with me. We would comfirm my beliefs. My visits to Howard Cohen, psycholoogist, were arranged for a mid-week evening. Ursula initially attended with me. The first couple of sessions were perfectly normal and I was glad to have someone to talk to.

Howard Cohen had been professionaly successful and was on the state evaluation board.
He was a small balding man in his late forties who held his practice in an office located in his attractive home. He was easy to talk to, but at times I felt he was more interested in telling me how important he was rather than listening to my problems. Initially I had hoped he would discuss the strange things that were happening in my life, but instead he wanted to talk about Gamma Supplies. I said fine. Then he took out a paper and pen and wrote down everything I told him. This made the process painfully slow and laborious, and of course it used up valuable time that I was paying for without giving me any real benefit. Anita sat through these sessions quietly and seldom said anything. The sessions with Dr. Cohen benefitted me very little, but by attending these sessions I felt I was fulfilling my part of "the deal".

Anita now completely changed he position about the whole affair. Now instead of being supportive about things, she was an oppenent. When I would tell her about the annoying phone calls at work, she would defend them by saying people sometimes get the wrong number. When someone would give me double talk or directly lie to me, I would ask her if she noticed anything wrong and she would reply that everything was normal. I was perplexed by her change in her position.

American Nazi terrorist technique.
Since I had changed the locks, nothing in the house had been disturbed until one day I came home from work and found some books in the bedroom. When Anita came home, I asked her if she had moved any of my books. She replied "no".

"Well then someone was in the house andy moved things just to let me know they were here because I've kept all of my books in the other rooms.

Anita again took the other side. "Are you sure?"

Again anger rose in me. "Of course I'm sure damn it. I haven't moved any of my books in here. These books were in the other room when I left this morning. "They" are just doing this to cover up the switched sworn statements. They'll say I hallucinated or something. I'm going to check to see if anything else is missing."

I was furious that "they" could just invade my privacy at will. Again, as was the case at Gamma Supplies, I was to have no privacy - a key element of mental torture.
As I searched the house, I realized my brown winter coat was missing.

"Where's my coat?" I screamed.

"How should I know?" Anita replied.

Well, it's not in the closet. I suppose you're going to tell me that's my imagination too."

"Did you check the other closets?" Anita asked.

I checked the rest of the house, but my coat was gone. The anger and frustration were intense, but I had no idea what to do. My immediate concern became replacing my winter coat.

Let me skip ahead. For years the above type of incidences would occur regularly, but I could never prove anything. And of course, it sounded crazy. Especially frustrating were incidents when something would disappear and would then reappear maybe a month later at a different location. That was a real mind game. And I could never prove it and anyone I complained to would quickly dismiss missing items by saying "did you ever see them?". That is "Can you prove it?"

Finally, after years of mental terrorism like the above, when I was living alone in Kentucky, some neighbors finally told me they saw people leaving my apartment when I wasn't there. And, these were not maintainance people or some one working for the apartment complex. These were well dressed men(gestapo agents) in suits who drove off in a late model sedan. And after I started tell people that yes, I could prove people were coming in my home when I wasn't there because there were witnesses, the Nazi government left me proof as if to mock me and to laugh at me by demonstrating that there was nothing I could do about. But up until the time I had proof, anything I said made me sound "crazy".

Can you trust your THE RAPIST (therapist)?
That evening I decided to change the locks again. However, the burglar-proof locks I had installed were impossible to remove and I spent over an hour trying to figure out a way to change them without damageing the doors. Finally Anita became irritated with me and yelled out, "Russell, get up here! You have an obsession with locks." Anita said it in a tone that implied that changeing the locks was not going to do any good. I knew she was right and reluctantly gave up and decided to live with the fact that "they" could come and go in my house as they pleased.

I did consider getting a couple of big fierce dogs, but I wasn't happy about that solution to the problem and I was concerned for the safety of our small maltese/poodle if I had two large dogs around.

I continued to see Dr. Cohen, but I was becoming increasingly frustrated at his unwillingness to discuss the things which were happening in my life. Instead of talking about the issues, he continued to take detailed notes of the events which had happened at Gamma Supplies as I related them to him. Finally, one evening Anita was going to be late for my appointment. Dr. Cohen said that was good because he wanted to talk to me alone anyway. Then he pulled his chair forward, leaned toward me and out of the blue said, "Tell me Russell, do you have an obsession with locks?" I sat there stunned and before I could say anything he continued and related another coincidence to me. I sat there shocked and felt I could no longer trust him. Nothing had been done except a coincidence, but it was enough to make me paranoid after all of the conditioning I had been subjected to. And of course, I was suppose to be paranoid.

As soon as Anita showed up, everything became normal except that at the end of the session, Dr. Cohen informed me that he would have to change the day of our weekly meeting. Any day was acceptable to me, but it just happened to turn out that the only day acceptable to him was Mondays which was the only evening Anita could not attend. Now that was some coincidence! From then on, I went alone on Mondays to my weekly sessions without a corroborating witness.

Malicious Fascist Big Brother is watching YOU!
The object of the change in the day of my weekly meeting with Dr. Cohen seemed to be to isolate Anita from the rest of the world with which I had contact. One of the initial unusual things about my RAM job was that no one from RAM had made any contact with my wife. In addition to the fact we had been give no assistance in finding a home, no one had made any attempt to welcome Anita to the area. Now it appeared an attempt was being made to isolate her from my therapist. Initially I could not understand the reason for the separation of my life from my wife, but when I later became knowledgeable in terrorist techniques, the reason became obvious.

It was now early November and I decided to get snow tires for the Datsun sports car. Normally I would have just called some local shop and made an appointment to have the tires changed, but now because of the past tampering with the car, I was afraid something would go wrong. I decided to have Anita call my parents from her work place and have my parents make an appointment at the Datsun dealer in Scranton. That way I thought that "they" might not know and would not mess things up. The next day I went into work and Don immediately came up to me and said "Do you have your snow tires on your car yet?" I was a little stunned at first, but I just took it as a coincident. Later in the day I was working in the laboratory when Don walked in and started a conversation. Somewhere in the middle of the conversation Don again asked the same question about snow tires. "Do you have your snow tires on your car yet?"

At that point I knew it was no longer a coincidence and "they" were letting me know that "they" knew I was going to have snow tires put on my car. Immediately the fear of something going wrong ran through my mind, and I imagined all sorts of ways "they" could have found out about my plans. Just to make sure that I did't think the reference to snow tires was a coincidence, Don ran into me in the men's room, walked up to me and again said, "Do you have your snow tires on your car yet?" He paused, "Oh, I already asked you that." Then he looked directly at me and half smiled.

What could I do? If I asked him why he kept asking me that question, he could have given me any answer and then tell me I should see the doctor about my "problem". In fact, when I did question anything, I was immediately sent to medical. It was a classic "no win" situation.

The Insane Psychopath's Solution - Be More Insane!
For the people reading this, let me say that deliberate "coincidences" don't seem like a big deal at first. After all, today Big Brother watches you and researches information on you all the time. Your medical, library and other records are routinely checked by those in authority, video cameras are everywhere in stores, work places and on the highways and everyone is encouraged to report anything "suspicious" that a neighbor or coworker might do. It is a real Orwellian society. So a few arranged coincidences to let the victim know he is being watched seems like no big deal.

But the arranged coincidences that were being orchestrated in my environment had a much more sinister, and scientifically based purposes. They were meant to drive me insane and cause a nervous breakdown. At the time these events were taking place, I was unaware of the psychological studies supporting the purpose, just as I was unaware that the psychological double binds (no-win situations) could cause schzophenia. The original experiments were carried out on dogs, but I'm sure there are human experiments such as those carried out by Dr. Cameron for the CIA which have never been reported to the public.

The basic scenario is this. A caged dog is shown a wite circle at the far end of his cage. When the dog goes over to check it out, he is fed or given some sort of treat(positive reinforcement). Eventually the dog becomes conditioned to run over to get the treat as soon as the white circle is inserted in the cage. Then a white elipse(football shaped) object is inserted in the cage. As soon as the dog runs over to inspect the object expecting food, he is given an electric shock. In time, the dog becomes conditioned so that a white circle causes him to run over and get food, and a white elipse inserted in the cage causes the dog to stay away and cower in fear.

Now the object inserted in the cage becomes less of an elipse, but not a true circle. The white object inserted in the cage becomes indistinguishable to the dog. Will he be shocked or will he receive food? Eventually when the inserted white object becomes indistinguishable to the dog, he will become agitated, pace or tremble in the corner. In other words the dog will no longer be able to function normally and will have a nervous breakdown.

In my case, the insane psychopaths(redundant)created obvious coincidences and there are of course natural coincidences occurring in ones environment. If you create enough coincidences like the snow tires, and the victim knows the malicious, sick perpetrators are behing the actions, the victim becomes conditioned and fear is created. Eventually, the victim can no longer tell a true coincident from an orchestrated one. The result - a nervous breakdown, the victim can no longer function normally. And remember, the coincidences followed by the electric shock started almost from the day I joined Gamma Supplies. A example - I mentioned that it annoyed me when the phone rang and when you answered, the calling party hung up. The very next day, I started receiveing harrassing phone calls(coincidence followed by electric shock). And these sick bastards still some 30 years later are trying to convince people that my being tortured is my fault. IT WAS PREMEDITATED!

Now the dog had to be caged or else he would run away. The victim of the fascist sickos had to be poor so he didn't have the economic resourse to escape. Now the whole plan to use and destroy the victim is looking more and more premeditated from day one. And one last major factor that keeps the victim from fleeing is that I was born and raised in america and as a result I had been throughly conditioned to believe in the american system - The Big Lie(Hitler's famous statement)that all of you are conditioned to believe in. I guess the good new is americans today are becoming less and less gullible and more and more angry.

Now really folks, how many average americans know the techniques to drive a person insane? But the sickos in Nazi government and business do and they use it to destroy people who they exploit. And they do it WITH YOUR TAX DOLLARS. They use your tax dollars to destroy decent, law bidding, hard working citizen victims who want to warn the rest of the world about Fascist America. Oh, and at the nonskilled working position, it appears Fascist America plans to replace decent, law-bidding, hard working natural citizens with illegal immigrants!

Heading towards doomsday.
The haraqssment level at work was increasing. The annoying phone calls at work were routine and numbered four to five a day. Of course if I mentioned this to Dr. Cohen, he would tell me everyone gets calls because people dial the wrong number and then hang up. The fact that I was getting four or five a day at my office or in the laboratory seemed to escape his attention.

I was also receiveing increased harassment from my co-workers and Osama Ikill was becoming a major villan. On one morning he came in the office and said "Hello". Sinec I was feeling depressed, I just nodded my head in acknowledgement. Osama went into a tirade.

"Don't you have enough decency to say good morning?" He said.

"I nodded my head in response in case you didn't notice."

"You don't even know how to be a human being." He snapped back.

"I don't know how to be a human being because I don't say good morning?" I asked increduously. "I think you have a lot to learn about being a human being."

We were both getting very angry so I got up and left. But I couldn't help seeing the irony in his statement. Osama was a principal antagonist in the plan to torture me, and he was telling me I did not know how to be a human being. The thing I found most disturbing about Osama was that unlike most of the people at RAM, he seemed to have no remorse about his actions. He acted like his terrorism of me was just another aspect of his job. This made my dislike towards him even greater.

I later found out that Osama had a lot of pent-up hatred. He was Armenian and had a lot of hostility that is so common today in the middle east. It really made him a scary person and I wouldn't be at all surprised that today he funnels some of his Nazi made riches to terrorist organiaztions in the Middle East.

But, the Nazi american government loved him because he was helping destroy a working class american. He was a loyal Nazi.

Is their hope??????
I got a brief respite from the harassment when I was unexpectedly chosen to attend a photopolymer symposium in Washington, D. C. By now I lived in a constant state of anger and frustration, but I always managed to keep my poise at work and said nothing. The day prior to my departure to Washington, Don walked up to me in the laboratory and said, "That's it. Keep it all inside and let it eat away at you." He said nothing else while standing there smirking at me. I just looked at him with a blank stare. The nazi scumbags knew I had to put up with their torture in order to work and survive and they loved to mock me every chance they got. They were laughing at the fact that I had to live with all the anger and hatred.

Taunting their victims is a common practice of this nazi government and is a major reason a lot of the world hates america. People who do not understand why 9/11 happened do not understand the real america - the america that destroys human life and then taunts its victims. THIS IS THE REAL AMERICA; THE AMERICA THE REST OF THE WORLD RECOGNIZES.

For several days the torture abated, and it gave me time to think about the atrocities that had been committed against me and further nurtured the hatred I had for my captors and tormentors. But my tormentors wanted more; they wanted me to hate everyone. They wanted me to be totally irrational.

The sudden change in my environment also gave me the impression that RAM would honor their agreement. Maybe RAM wanted to, but ultimately my fate would be decided by the powerful nazis who had repeatedly demonstrated that they were pathological liars. But when you are in a desperate situation you grab on to any hope, and my hope was that as long as I went along with the mental illness story, the nazis would allow me to work. Somehow the threat that I would never work again faded into the background. It is like a common poster on office walls at RAM stated: "When you're up to your neck in alligators, it is easy to forget that your objective is to drain the swamp."

A Glimpse of the Future.
The following Tuesday, I flew to Washington, D.C. The flight was uneventful and until I arrived at the airport. I couldn't find my luggage. After some checking I learned my luggage was lost! That meant I spent that night and the next morning without a change of clothing. Finally, the next day around noon, I was informed my luggage had been found and it was being delivered to my hotel room. I was relieved, but I couldn't help but wonder if the inconvenience hadn't been arranged.

The next couple of days was free from the constant harassment that I was experiencing at work. The brief respite from the daily terrorism only served to allow the hate, anger and frustration that had built up in me to rise to the surface. Without constantly being on the defensive against the harassment, my feelings were surfacing and I found it frightening how uncontrollable the rage inside was. I kept wondering how long I could keep my emotions and actions under control and what would be the ultimate result of all the terrorism and torture to which I was being subjected. Just as these thoughts raced through my mind, fate gave a glimpse at my possible future.

I was sitting at the hotel bar, waiting to go to dinner when I struck up a conversation with a man who had consumed a few too many drinks. After some idle chit-chat the man became inquisitive.

"Who do you work for?" He queried.

"RAM" I replied.

His reaction was intense and totally unexpected.

"I hate RAM. I use to work for them and they destroyed my whole life. I just got a divorce, you know. I still have a small house. It's not much, but it is all I have left."

"What did you do for them?"

I'm an attorney." He replied. "I was a patent attorney for RAM."

You could have knocked me off the chair with a feather. "What did they do to you?" I asked.

"I can't talk about it, but I hate RAM!"

I tried several more times to find out what had happened to cause his demise, but he seemed afraid to talk about it. Later he started talking to the bartender about going hunting and killing. The bartender who was a Vietnam veteran was visibly upset by the man's constant talk about killing and he finally offered the customer a free drink if he would just change the subject. I sat there wondering if I was looking at myself down the road in three or four years.

Nothing Is Sacred to the Nazi Government except protecting the wealth and powerful.
I returned to RAM with the same fears and concerns that I had left with. If anything, the time away from the daily harassment only gove me time to confirm the serious state of affairs I was experienceing at work. It also heightened my fear that "they" would make other attempts to terminate my life.

After I returned to work, things remained pretty much the same. I also kept going to see Dr. Cohen in the hopes that things would get better, but I might as well flushed by money down the toilet for all the help he was giving me. Finally, through the use of constant suggestions, I became so convinced I was going to be killed that I feared going to Dr. Cohen's house in the dark and I began talking to Anita about her continuing life without me. During a regular session with Dr. Cohen, I expressed my fear of being killed and instead of addressing the fear he immediately asked me if I had any other fears. I told him no that the only real fear I had was that of being killed. Even if I had other fears whatever it may have been, I would not have told him because "they" would have acted out a scenario to realize that fear. Then as we ended our session Dr. Cohen abruptly changed the topic.

"Do you have a phone?" he asked.

"No, because they terrorize me with it." I replied.

"We for God's sake, join the modern age and get a phone." He chided.

I left feeling a little bewildered as to why Dr. Cohen had brought up the phone as a topic so abrubtly, but I soon forgot about it. Soon after I got home, Anita pulled into the garage. I rushed down the stairs and opened the door to greet her.

"Hi, see you're still alive!" She exclaimed.

"Hi, I'm glad to see you're home." I answered.

"By the way, I called the phone company today and ordered a phone. They will install it this week," was her immediate reply.

A bolt of fear struck through me. Was it an elipse or a circle? I was just seemed to much of a coincidence that Dr. Cohen had forced the topic of a phone into our conversation, and now the first thing Anita tells me is that she has ordered a phone. Anita knew about the harassing phone calls, and she also knew that I didn't want a phone in the house. Still she had gone ahead and ordered one without consulting me. I was angry.

"You know I don't want a phone in the house." I yelled.

"Well I want one and besides you can always have it taken out," She replied.

"You know how "they" terrorize me."

"Now Russell," she said. "No one is terrorizing you."

I couldn't believe my ears. I kept thinking my own wife was betraying me. Somehow whether I had a phone or not seemed irrelevant at the moment. The fear of being alone as "they" had threatened was overwhelming. I was in a complete state of anxiety, but there was nothing I could do.

Again much later, I learned it was a common practice of the american Nazi government to pit one spouse against the other in a effort to destroy the victim spouse. In fact, the pitting one sex against the other has become a common divide and conquer technique in american society. I know of one case were a "mentally ill" political prisoner was supported by his wife. In that case the american government's solution was to declared that the victim's wife was also mentally ill! Simply amazing!

In today's world, americans are inundated with high tech spyware on TV, in movies and through other sources that I and other americans forget that the easiest way to spy on someone is to have a person close to the victim betray him or her. And who is closer to most people than their spouse. As I have stated in a handout that I distribute, "To the American government, family, marriage, love and sex are merely useful tools in the creation of the ultimate fascist state, Neo-Nazi America."

More suspicious behavior.
That weekend we decided to visit Ursula's parents. Her father was in the hospital with complications from diabetes. Anita's younger sister Ingrid and her husband Tim were going to be visiting too so they could could go see Anita's father. I was glad that there would be someone else to talk to over the weekend. When we arrived her mother failed to greet me in her usual manner which was to give me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. This time she just said "hello". Her unusual, distant behavior bothered me, but I didn't pay too much attention to it.

On Sunday morning Anita, Ingrid, Tom and I went to a local flea market. As soon as we arrived, Anita and Ingrid went off on their own and Tom and I were left to tour the grounds. I had been so isolated at work that I was thrilled to have someone to interact with in a normal manner. However, after a few minutes, Tom made some excuse to leave and he never returned. Tom's sudden departure bothered me and it almost seemed as if he was avoiding me. I rationalized that "they" could not possibly turn my own inlaws against me, but I was getting very suspicious. Later, when it was time to go home, I found Tom and we were joined by Anita and Ingrid. No one talked all the way home.

Later that afternoon at Anita's parent's house, I walked into the living room and found Tom watching a football game on TV. When he saw me walk in the room he quickly switched channels. I was curious about the football game.

"What's the score?"

"Oh, it's 21-0 Denver". He replied.

"Why don't you put the game back on? I asked. "Who is Denver playing?"

"Green Bay," he responded.

Tom switched the game back on and we watched for awhile. Soon the score was announced; Green Bay zero, Denver zero. I just looked at Tom who sat there expressionless. I was more that disturbed by Tom's obvious lie since I was constantly bombarded with lies like that at work. It seemed like too much of a coincident. Again the suspicion and anxiety began to increase.

That evening, Ingrid and Tom were the first to depart. I was still watching football when Ingrid came over and said, "I have to give Russ a good-bye kiss." She then bent over and kissed me on the cheek. By now I was totally paranoid again and all sorts of wild thoughts raced through my head as to why Anita had kissed me "good-bye." In the eleven previous years I had known her, she had never done that and her sudden change in behavior caused even more anxiety.

After Tome and Ingrid had left, I continued to watch TV while Anita and her mother were talking in the kitchen. Finally I decided it was time to leave. I got up and walked into the kitchen just as Anita's mother was saying to her, "So you'll just have to learn to live without him." Then she looked up and saw me standing there. "I was just telling Anita I thought I could never get along without her father, but I learned how to cope now that he in no longer here." She continued. It was not something someone in my position wanted to hear.

Then there was a long period of silence. "We had better get going; it's a long drive back." I said.

As we were leaving, I walked towards Anita's mother to give her a hug when she unexpectedly shied away from me. Now I knew her failure to give me a hug and kiss when we arrived was not an accident and her actions helped confirm my suspicions that some of the things that had transpired during our two day visit were not entirely spontaneous. I left feeling even more anxious and I had a new feeling of hopelessness that had not been present before.

GOD DAMN AMERICA! IMPORTANT NOTE: Anita's family had come to America after WWII. They were German and Anita's father had designed aircraft for the German military. So Anita's mother knew what Nazi governments do to their victims. She knew I had no future - she had seen the previous Nazi empire first hand!!! It is ironic that they fled one Nazi regime to move to another.

Political Prisoners Three Choices
The interesting thing about the weekend at my inlaws was that Anita's father who we visited in the hospital that Saturday never did anything to raise my suspicions. We were there for over 2 hours and nothing unusual happened then or any other time with Anita's father, Hugho. He is one of several people the the Nazis were not able to use against me while I was employed. It not that surprising if you knew Hugho. He was a gruff, independent person and if anyone had approached him with some Nazi action to carry against me, he probably would have told them to go f... themselves. That was just the type of person he was and he had endured the original Nazi government so he knew what governments are like.

After returning home, Anita and I said very little. The next day I returned to work and went into John Waymore's office and told him I wanted to see the company doctor. John quickly arranged for a meeting, and I was soon on my way to see Dr. Arnold. Dr. Arnold was not a psychiatrist, and he appeared to be more of an administrator than a practicing doctor. I once again repeated by Gamma Supplies story and the related problems for him as he carefully took notes. After I finished talking, Dr. Arnowitz suggested I see the company psychiatrist, but I refused. My other fear, in addition to being killed was that I would be confined to a mental institution and an evaluation of a psychiatrist was needed for that. I did not want to give anyone the opportunity to find a reason to have me confined. If I were dead, the sicko psychopaths could use my deposition as my testamony. Having me confined in an institution would allow them to do the same thing. It all revolved around my court testamony in the Gamma Supplies' federal lawsuit. The rest of the abbreviated week I spent looking forward to the Thanksgiving vacation.

I should add what I again didn't realize at the time is that a political prisoner in Nazi america has three choices: 1)death 2)confinement, usually prison and 3)exile. And those are the only choices you have once the Nazi government makes you an enemy of the state.

Making the Nazi alibi of mental illness real!
On Thanksgiving, Ursula and I headed for my parents' place where we had our usual feast. We had invited Ursula's mother to join us since Hugho was confined in the hospital and she was alone. The problems I was having were taking their toll and I was unable to enjoy myself. I was despondent and full of anxiety, and I ate very little of the Thanksgiving meal. I truly had nothing to be thankful for living in Nazi america. It was like a Jew trying to celebrate living in Nazi Germany. The inability to enjoy the holiday with my wife and family made me feel even worse.

That afternoon when Ursula's mother was about to leave, I become determined to give her a hug. As she headed toward the door, I stepped into the doorway. She stopped, looked for another exit and then stood there frozen. I walked over, gave her a hug and wished her a safe trip home.

That Monday, I returned to work in an extreme state of anxiety. I had not been sleeping well, and I was not able to concentrate on my work. Finally, I asked John Waymore if I could sse the company psychiatrist. The next day I went to see Dr. Hupalowsky. Dr. Hupalowsky appeared very nervous and he chained smoked the whole time I talke to him. I don't know if I made him nervous or if he normally was that way, but his behavior made me feel uneasy. After a short conversation, Dr. Hupalowskty gave me some Stelazine, a tranquilizer and antipsychotic agent to take to help me get some sleep. I was furious at the fact that I was being harassed to the point that I had to take medication just to function in a reasonably normal manner. I dislike taking any form of medication, and I particularly dislike taking a medication like Stelazine which can have serious side effects. But, I had to take the medication in order to function.

I was not worried about my job performance because John Waymore had assured me in our "deal" that I would always have a job at RAM even if I had a record of mental illness. Still, Dr. Stanley Arnold checked with my manager Don who confirmed that my job performance was exemplary and that I was not disruptive in the work place. I felt confident at least that part of the "bargain" was being kept. I also felt that I was doing an excellent job on the project I was working on and any attempt to threaten my job based on incompetency at that time would have been difficult to do. My real concern still remained staying alive.

How the Nazi american government terrorizes citizens.
The harassment on the job was quite high. I was still receiving the four to six harassing phone to always resulted in no one on the other end of the line. In addition I was now receiving harassing phone calls at home even though I had an unlisted phone number and I had not given the phone number to anyone. This sometimes included calls in the middle of the night. My conflict with Osama was increasing to the point where he would take a message for me on my office phone and then not relay them to me. I became aware of the practice after I had missed an important meeting because he did not tell me I had received a call inviting me to the meeting.

I was also constantly being harassed by other people in the department. One favorite technique was to tell me that so and so wanted to see me immediately in room xx or that there was a meeting in conference room A. I would go rushing off only to find an empty room. By now I had become so accustomed to such practices and so conditioned to accept such actions that I did not bother to question the persons involved when I found out I had been lied to. Lying to me about anything had become so common place that it was the norm. What it was doing was making me paranoid. I eventually came to the conclusion that if you want to make someone crazy, make their world crazy; make it a world that made no sense. The Nazi american government can do that.

I continued to see Dr. Cohen, and he refuse to discuss anything that was happening to me. At one point I was discussing events that were happening and I asked him what he thought Anita's mother meant when she had told Anita that "she would have to learn to live without him." Dr. Cohen just ignored the question and when I repeated he just went off on another topic. It was clear that he did not want to lend any credence to my interpretations of events and that it was better to let me live with the fears that the comment created. I was paying this son-of-a-bitch to basically help the Nazis drive me crazy. When he refused to even acknowledge my question, I began to get up and walk out, but I decided I had to stay and maintain the image that I was trying to get help for my problem.

The Nazi state view of religious holidays. Eliminate people.
By now I had been totally ostracized from any real interaction with society. My analyst refused to help and was even contributing to my fear and anxiety. He continually asked me what my fears were , and I continually avoided telling him because I was afraid those fears would be acted out. I had no interactions with anyone at work except for the barest of minimal conversations necessary to do my job. No one ever discussed the weather or what I did over the weekend and company politics was especially an avoided subject. And finally, I no longer even trusted my wife because comments I would make to her would come back to me at work. I could trust no one and I could not express my feelings to anyone out of fear of having those feelings manipulated. I was utterly alone in the world.

I was becoming more and more anxious as the Christmas holiday approached because I was aware of how the business world liked to make things happen during that period of time. I "they" were going to get rid of me, the approaching holiday period would be the ideal time to do it.

Like most work places, my department was having a Christmas party. I was never formally invited, but I couldn't help but hear other people talking about it. Eventually I learned that it was going to be held on December twenty first. When I found out about the party, my very first thought was to wonder how "they" were going to keep me from attending and socializing with other people. I had been so isolated that I couldn't believe I would be allowed to attend, but I was going to go even if I hadn't received an invitation.

My determination was quickly thwarted one day when Don came in my office and told me that we were going on a business trip to a chemical company in Philadelphia. My first reaction was one of surprise that I was going with other people on a business trip, but the true purpose of the trip became clear when he told me the trip was a one day affair and that we would be going on December twenty first! Now I knew how "they" were going to stop me from attending the Christmas party and at the same time create a ligitimate reason. I was disappointed to say the least and the news caused me to become more depressed. I was really looking forward to the party and the opportunity to interact with the rest of the people in the department.

That evening I told Anita what had transpired.

"That is really cruel." She replied.l

"I know but what can I do. It is the same thing they did with the house closing. They shcedule a business/work conflict."

"We are having a party at the bank. Do you want to go to that one with me?" Anita asked. "I know it won't be the same, but it might help."

"No, I don't think I want to meet your friends in my messed up state." I replied.

Anita sympathized with me but she was in the same position that I was in. She knew very well what was going on, but she couldn't do anything about it either. She too was a Nazi american slave(a working class person).

Elipse or Circle - Only the Nazis Knew for Sure.
At work, Don continued to talk to me about the business trip to Philadelphia, and no mention was made of the Christmas party. The only topic of conversation was the best way to make the trip. Don had decided to fly because he abhored the drive to Philadelphia, and there were plenty of convenient flights available. He said he would have the secretary make the flight arrangements.

By now I dreaded my weekly visit to Dr. Cohen. He finally stopped taking notes on my Gamma Supplies experience and now he started talking about hobbies. He never discussed a single issue about Gamma Supplies that I had raised, and he refused to discuss any of the events which occurred at RAM. Whenever I expressed suspicion about anything, he would assure me that he would never take part in any conspiracy against me and the he would remind me of his fine reputation as a pshychologist. It seemed usless to point out to him that "they" had already corrupted a Federal Judge and an attorney who had a fine reputation. I was becoming more and more irritated at the fact that I was spending my money to see him, but the situation at work dictated that I had to go through the motions of seeking help.

One thing Dr. Cohen always continued to ask me was the question of what generated fear and anxiety in me. Finally I became irritated at his insistence and told him that any change caused me concern.* Dr. Cohen suddenly became interested and tried to pinpoint exactly what kind of change I meant. I explained to him that any kind of change in my environment caused me concern. He did not bother to pursue the reason change caused me so much anxiety. He was only interested in what caused the emotional response and he offered no advice or suggestions to help me deal with changes in my environment.
__________________________________________
*If Dr. Cohen had really been interested in torture, he might have read Jerimiah Denton's book, "When Hell Was In Session". The book is Mr. Denton's account of his ordeal as a prisoner of war in North Vietnam in which he points out how sensitive he became to changes in his environment because it was a signal that something, usually bad, was about to happen. I had become the same way and any change in a persons actions or behavior caused me to become alert and anxious.
_____________________________________________________________________________________
The next morning I went into work and was surprised when Don showed up at my office bright and early. Don almost never got into work before nine o'clock (I think he need time to sober up from the previous nights drunk), but this particular morning, he was there when I arrived before eight thirty. The first thing he said was, "I've changed my mind, we are going to drive to Philadelphia. I decided that was the best thing to so we'll be driving down on Thursday. My anxiety level jumped. Twelve hours after I told Dr. Cohen that sudden changes caused me anxiety, Don shows up at work early to come in and tell me he had changed his mind and that he was going to do something that he had told me two days earlier he hated to do. And Don had no explanation for the sudden change in plans. The timing and nature of the events seemed too planned to be coincidental, but who would believe that something that I had told my therapist would effect actions at work.

Another attempt to kill me without making it look like murder.
Events at work had become bad that on December 19th,I decidedI could no longer go into work. I just could not take any more harassment. That morning I called into work and told the secretary that was sick. On the first call in, the connection was so poor that I had to hang up and redial. The second call was not much better because of static and scratching noises, but I was able to get the message across. When I hung up I couldn't help but wonder if "they" had been responsible for the poor phone connection. I remained in bed the entire morning while Anita went off to work. Finally I got up around noon. All I could think about was all of the harassment and terrorism I had been subjected to since I had joined RAM and that there was really no way for me to make things different. "They" were determined to destroy me and there was nothing I could do about it. I was a slave in Nazi america.

As I sat there I kept thinking I had to do something to stop the mental anguish. I decided to have a drink of scotch. I gulped down one drink and then quickly poured another. Within about twenty minutes I had consumed three quarters of a liter of scotch and was feeling no pain. I staggered into the kitchen to get Nuisance some dog bones when I collapsed on the kitchen floor. The next thing I remember some five hours later, I was being rushed to a hospital in an ambulance. Anita had come home and found me on the floor and when she could not get any response, she called 911. Once at the hospital, I was given fluids intravenously until I fully regained consciousness.

Anita had called Dr. Cohenand he suggested that I be taken to Daniel's House, a psychiatric hospital for admittance. I was driven there and asked to sign some papers which I readily signed without reading them. I still was not aware of what was going on around me and I just did what I was told. I spoke briefly with a resident doctor, but that conversation was quickly terminated when I got sick and threw-up in the office waste basket.

The next morning I found myself in a maximum security buildig for suicidal patients. Immediately that morning a nurse informed that I was not allowed any personal possessions and that I was to take medications which had been prescribed for me. The medication consisted of the same level of Stelazine I had been taking plus the strong tranquilizer Thorazine.
_______________________________________________
Michael Parenti in his book "Democracy For The Few" refers to Thorazine and Stelazine a "chemical straitjackets".

Dewey Cheatem & Howe

2009-11-15T09:47:00.000-08:00

My life at home was not much better that my time at work. Strange incidences were
also beginning to occur in my personal life. My car insurance was one example. I had paid my car insurance for a six month period when I had been in Louisville, but I had never received a statement of coverage. When it came time to renew the policy, I decided to stay with the same nationally known company. Since I was going through a local agent, I requested a copy of the coverage I was suppose to have. The agent said there should be no problems and that I should receive a copy of the policy. Weeks and then months went by and I received nothing. Every time I called the agent, he assured me I had coverage, but he could not understand why the regional office had not sent me a copy of the policy. I kept thinking “they” had a hand in all of this and “they” were causing me the aggravation and frustration, but I had no proof. I went over a year without knowing if I actually had any kind of automobile insurance. Finally, when I registered my cars in New York I did receive insurance ID cards. Even they were temporary and improperly filled out.

There are two important things to point out about my situation at that time. One, I didn't consider the fact that the U. S. Government had declared all out war on me and that “they” could be intercepting my mail. It turns out that intercepting mail and other communications is a favorite terrorizing and harassing practice of the U. S. Government. And years later I would get ample proof the my mail was being tampered with. I should also note that mail tampering is a common government practice against many Americans. I heard a lecture by a close associate of the late Dr. Martin Luther King where the associate claimed the government commited various acts of terrorism against Mr. King in an effort to discredit him. One of the acts he mentioned was mail tampering.

Second, years later when I was able to read and study about terrorism and terrorists, I learned a major reason behind the secret identity of my captors. Terrorism is most effective if the source of the terror is unknown. If you know the source of the terror, you are more able to form coping mechanisms to deal with the terror. That is why whenever an act of terrorism is committed against the U. S., the government immediately releases the identity of the supposed perpetrator. Even thought the announced perpetrator may not have had anything to do with the terrorist attack, the public feels safer and reassured knowing the name of the terrorist or terrorist group.
I was also experiencing trouble with my lawyer, Dewey Cheatem. I had not been present for the closing on my house and Anita signed all of the documents and then had the lawyer keep the papers. When Anita came home, she asked me if I wanted to keep the documents or if I wanted the lawyer to keep them. I told her I wanted to keep the papers and then called the attorney to tell him I would like the documents on the house. Weeks went by and I received nothing. I called Mr. Cheatem again and reiterated my desire to have the house papers. Again, I received nothing. The third time I wrote him a short note and got the same results. I could not believe that I could not get my copy of the house mortgage. It was if the papers were being held just to frustrate me. Finally, I wrote a very nasty letter threatening a lawsuit if I did not receive my house papers. About a week later, and after several months of aggravation, I received the documents. This would not be the last time I would have difficulty getting documents which belonged to me, but which were in
another person's possession.

Oddly enough, shortly after the closing on the house, I had discussed my Gamma Supplies problems with Dewey Cheatem. I explained what had happened and what had occurred with the second sworn deposition.

“What can I do for you?” He asked.

“Well, the sworn statement I have has been altered from what I said, and I would like to to document the changes.

Dewey just looked straight at me and solemnly said, “Are you trying to get yourself killed? Do you have a will?”

Your Home is only a place for terrorism in Nazi America

He didn't need to say anymore to tell me what kind of trouble I was in. Since he had been an assistant district attorney in Brooklyn for severals years, he was knowledgeable in criminal activity. However, I insisted that I wanted to document the changes in the alteredstatement, and I wanted the noted changes documented in such a way that they would be legally acceptable in a court of law if I were dead or alive. He told me to go ahead and note the changes and then we would make a date to notarize such changes I agreed to do what he had said.

I had been planning on visiting my parents the weekend following the meeting with my attorney and thought that would be a good relaxing atmosphere in which to note the changes in my sworn statement. I still had not told Anita about the changes in the sworn statement. I told her I wanted to take the document with me when we went to my parent's house so I could read it, sign it and then have my sister notarize it for me.

That Friday evening, we drove to my parent's place. Saturday morning I took the sworn statement downstairs to the living room and started to read it. I was shocked by what I saw. The statement now read as I originally had stated things! The incriminating sections which had been deleted were now there intact. Someone had switched had been switched back to the original statement. I walked out to the kitchen where Anita was sitting talking to my mother.

“This is not the same as what they sent me.” I said in a shocked state.

Anita just glanced at me and sheepishly said, “You can't be sure of that.”

Her comment startled me and sent a chill down my spine. It reminded me of the scene in “Silkwood” when Karen Silkwood was on a plane having a conversation when she realizes that her best friend has betrayed her.

“What do you mean I'm not sure!” I was furious. “Those sons-of-bitches knew I was going to document the changes so they switched the original back.”

I couldn't believe what Anita had said, but I was too stunned to talk to her about it. Apparently the sick Nazi bastards had hoped in my anxious state that I would sign the altered document. But when I refused to sign the altered document and was planning to note the changes, the sick Nazi bastards (“they”) switched it back to the original sworn statement. It also meant someone had been in my house to switch the statements and that made me even more furious. I had no privacy in my own house. What irritated me even more was that the last bit of physical evidence I had was gone.

Remember these events took place in 1978, long before 9/11/2001. Soon after 9/11, the Nazi american government made it legal for gestapo agents to enter your home in the “fight against terrorism.” From my experiences, the best way to get rid of terrorism is to get rid of the U. S. government and its corporate substructure.

On October 9,1978 I signed what was now my original sworn statement made to Cruz Little and Associates. I took that along with some other documents and gave them to my sister to place in a safe in the law office where she worked. I gave her the name and address of the Federal Judge in Milwaukee that was trying the case in the event I should be killed. Now how dumb was that? I already knew the Judge was corrupt, but I had no other place to turn. As you will read later, sending it to the Justice Department or the U. S. Attorney General would have been equally futile.

I returned back to New York that Sunday with a sense of relief that I had the original sworn statement back, but I was now living in a constant state of fear for my life because I now knew how far the sick Nazi bastards (“they”) would go to cover up the whole affair.

When we returned home the first thing I did was to go to the suitcase and look for my Costeal diary. It was gone! I had kept it with the altered sworn statement which meant that whoever switched the statements also took the diary. I was furious again at the thought of someone invading my privacy and doing whatever they pleased while I was helpless to do anything about it. My whole life was being manipulated to make things the way “they” wanted them to appear and I had no way of stopping it. It was as if I was living in George Orwell's “1984”.

My first reaction to having the diary stolen was to put new locks on the doors. The next day I went out and bought dead bolt locks for the front and side doors and a new garage door locks. After installation, I gave Ursula a set of keys and gave her specific instructions not to let the keys out of her sight. I foolishly felt sure no one could get in our house now without forcible entry and then I would have proof that someone had been in our home.

We were still living without our household belongings which meant we were thril when we learned our furniture was due to arrive after eight weeks of waiting. I was concerned about the conditions of the items because there had been frequent mention of my furniture at work. Since Dick Sawyer had asked me on four different occasions about my television set, I was particular interested in the condition of the TV. When I came home from work that afternoon, they were finishing unloading the truck. At first glance it seemed as if no items were missing and I began to think my fears and concerns had been for nothing. Then Anita told me the bad news. First and most notable, the picture tube on the TV had been broken. The back end of the tube had been broken off. My fears had been justified. In addition, the coils on the refrigerator had been broken, the hoses on the washer had been slashed and the cord to the dryer had been ripped off. Also the legs to the dining room table were missing. The only major appliance that was in working condition was the dish washer which we did not need because the house had come equipped with one. The neonazi bastards (“they”) had really done a job on my possessions in order to terrorize me and make my life as uncomfortable as possible.

Now you know why some people keep Pit Bulls and Rottweilers in their house. They want to keep the ruling fascist scum out!

Death by accident?

My more immediate concern was staying alive. I felt more and more insecure, and I had a real concern that an attempt would be made on my life. That fear was soon to be realized. The Saturday following the arrival of our furniture, Ursula and I decided to drive around the area. After our damaged had furniture arrived, I began letting Ursula drive our newer Datsun 260-Z sports car to work while I drove the older Camaro to work. Since their goal had been to inflict a lot of damage to our furniture, I was afraid the new sports car would be dented or otherwise mutilated in the RAM parking lot. As we started out on a winding back country road, a slight rain began to fall the roads became damp. Since I knew the roads would be slippery, I was not driving the car as fast as I usually did. As we headed into a turn, the car started to swerve and as I tried to bring it back under control, we slid
completely into the oncoming traffic lane. By the time I got the car back under control, we had traveled a couple hundred yards in the wrong lane. Fortunately there was no other traffic or we would have had a head on collision doing about forty five miles an hour. I eased the car back into the proper land and continued on. Anita sat there looking white as a sheet. As I drove on, I jerked the steering wheel and the car swerved violently.

“Something is wrong.” I said. “This car normally handles well and today I can hardly keep it on the road. The roads are pretty dry now so it is not the road conditions.”

Ursula commented that it did not seem right to her the previous day coming home from work. “Maybe we should stop at a garage and check it out”. She said.

We drove to the nearest gas station where we stopped and I inspected the car. The first thing I noticed was that the right rear tire was very low. I got the tire gauge from the glove box and checked each tire. They were all about 50 percent under inflated. I also noticed that all of the valve stem covers were missing as if by design so that I would know for sure that the car had been tampered with. Anyone who knows anything about cars, knows that badly under inflated tires can cause a car to handle poorly and is a dangerous situation. That coupled with the knowledge that I usually drove the sports car fast could be used to arrange an accident. The fact that I didn't hit anything was pure fate. Had another car been coming towards us when I lost control, I would most likely be dead. Even so, the fact that the car had been tampered with served to generate more fear, anxiety and anger. After I inflated the tires, we headed back home and neither of us said much of anything.

Make Him A Deal He Can't Refuse

By now I had about all the abuse I could take. I was in a constant state of anxiety and I live in a total state of fear. I took out additional term life insurance to cover the mortgage on the house in case “they” were successful in arranging a fatal accident. If I were dead, my unsigned deposition could be used in a court of law as my testimony. I went to work the following Monday not knowing what to expect next. The usual harassment continued with people giving me a bunch of double talk and everyone lying to me about everything. It reached the point where I couldn't believe anything anyone told me. Finally I decided to go to my second level manager and try to find some solution. I decided not to talk to Don, my first level manager because he was so scared and nervous that I couldn't depend on him to get things straight.

My second level manager, John Waymore was the typical well-groomed RAM manager. He never showed any emotions and he did everything by the book. I went into his office almost in tears and said, “John, what do they want from me?”

John didn't even ask who “they” were or what I meant. Instead he replied, “Russ, you have a serious problem and you don't want to get yourself in a box you can't get out of.”

“I know John.” “My primary concern is staying alive and I need some help.”

John listened intently and then said, “I'll talk to some people and see if there isn't a solution to this. I'll get back to you tomorrow.”

I said “fine” an left.

That evening I told Anita everything and she said little. By now I was so anxious again that I spoke rather freely to Anita. She was definitely interested in what was happening.

The next day I eagerly went to John's office. John told me the RAM attorney could not help me, but maybe Dr. Stanley Arnold, the company doctor could. John then went on to tell me that if I were an alcoholic, RAM would do everything to cure me. The implication was that RAM would do everything to cure me of my “mental illness”, but he carefully avoided using those words. I was disappointed because his “solution” was what I had expected all along. I had told Anita while I was still at Gamma Supplies that “they”, the sick, subhuman filth behind all of my problems, were going to say I was “mentally ill” as their way of covering up their crimes. John patently told me that as long as I got treatment for
my problem, everything would be fine. And, of course he promised that I would always have a job since RAM provided lifetime security. In fact, John assured me I had a good future at RAM if I could just get my Gamma Supplies problem straightened out. I found it strange that John should mention Gamma Supplies since I had never defined my problem, but then we were negotiating a solution to the unmentioned problem. I told John I would make everyone happy and I would see the doctor and that his “solution” to the problem was acceptable.

It may seem strange that I left the meeting relieved that all I had to do was be mentally ill to solve my problems. Desperate people do really stupid things, and I was desperate. Otherwise, why would I believe psychopathic, pathological lairs? These sick bastard had lied to me about everything from day one and now suddenly I believed them! I was really desperate. I never considered what these subhuman scumbags would do once the had an established history of “mental illness”. They would then be safe and have absolutely no need for me. As it was now, they still needed my unsigned deposition for my testimony. My testimony was critical in the lawsuit because my name was on the Patent of the Rapid Set system and I had done almost all of the work on the system. The mental illness story would cover up the how of how they got my testimony in the first place. As John Marks points out in his book about the CIA, painting someone as a nut job, a crazy, is a convenient way to discredit any opponent and/or critic.

That evening I went home from work and announced to my wife that I had a solution to
my problem. Anita was not pleased with the “solution”. Then I approached her with the inevitable.

“Maybe we should get a divorce,” I said. “I mean this is not going to be pleasant or easy and maybe it would be best if I did this alone.”

Anita started to cry uncontrollably and hugged me. “I don't want a divorce. I just want you.”

From her reaction I knew it was useless to pursue the subject, but I still thought it was the best thing to do. I knew the future was not going to be bright or pleasant.

The Real Motives - Hatred and Fear

After a couple of days, I decided I was not quite sure I wanted to cooperate with the
"solution". As usual though, my initial acceptance of the solution did result in some changes in my work environment. The changes reflected a form of behavior modification where changes in my environment were used to reward "correct" actions and punish "unacceptaable" actions. Behavioral psychologists call this positive and negative reinforcement. Prior to my talk with John, I had been totally excluded from all meetings and department gatherings. Occasionally I would see a notice of a department meeting laying around and my name would be conspicuously missing. But now suddenly Don came in and told me the time and place for the next department meeting and made every effort to make sure I would be attend. I had been excluded from the original notice of the meeting, but now I was inexplicably being told I should attend it. Also, almost immediately after my conversation with John, Don left a signed card on my desk which enabled me to attend an in-house electronics course. He had held the card for over two weeks while Osama had his request card for the same course returned in a couple of days. The timing was not coincidental.

The manipulation of my environment to control my behavior only further infuriated me, and their record of not honoring("they" have no concept of honor)their agreements made me decide to seek other advice. I went in to see John again and told him that I was having second thoughts about things and wanted him to cancel the appointment with the company doctor which he had made. I told him I wanted to discuss the situation with a friend.

I was beginning to wonder if all the stress wasn't effecting my mind to the point that I was letting coincidences bother me too much. I wondered if I was over reacting. I decided to test a coincidence out on someone else. One morning I came to the office and Osama was out doing something so I checked over his desk. There was an article from the local newspaper tucked away in a cubicle about an opera company appearing at the Poughkeepsie Civic Center. I read the article, put it back and when Garo came in I struck up a conversation about his interests.

"I have lots of interests," he snapped back sharpley.

"Do you like opera?" I asked. "Did you know they have operas from touring companies appearing at the Poughkeepsie Civic Center".

Osama got a stunned look on his face and then looked over his desk for the newspaper article. Then he glared at me as if to say, "you've been going through the things on my desk". He angerily turned back to his desk and went back to work on some papers. For some reason he no longer wanted to talk to me. He also knew he couldn't prove anything. I went back to work too, but now I knew I was not overreacting. Coincidences like that which I was experiencing have a very shocking effect on the victim.

That weekend I returned to my parents place in Scranton, PA. On Sunday I made a visit to an old friend and mentor of mine, Ernie Kovac. Ernie was a General in the Air Force Reserves, a former chemisty professor of mine and a locally politically active community member. If there was anyone I knew who might be familiar with my type of situation I was in, Ernie was the man. As usual, Ernie greeted me warmly and invited me into his home. As we chatted I noticed he mentioned some things that did not make a lot of sense, but I dismissed his remarks. Then I told him about my problem. After listening intently he summed up the situatiobn by saying, "Surely one person like yourself is not going to stop something that big".

"But that's just it," I replied. "I don't want to stop it; I just want the harassment to stop."

Then Ernie suggested we go outside and take a walk around the groungs. As we walked he sstarted asking me about my niece. He kept asking the same questions over and over again, the way a small child would until it became annoying. Suddenly I realized he was doing it on purpose! I looked at him with fear in my eyes and once he saw the look on my face he stopped doing it. After that, the nature of our conversation changed. He began talking in analogies and related through analogies that my problems were due in part because some people considered me arrogant and certain people hated me. I stood there in disbelief. Things had been planned and orchestrated from the day I walked into Gamma Supplies and now I was being told that things were my fault. And remember, Ernie had known me for about 15 years and had helped me in my career in many ways. Now I was practically pleading with Ernie.

"What can I do?"

"I don't know," he replied. "I have a friend who knows about these things. I'll talk to him and see what I can do."

"Thank you. I just want to end this war. I can't take much more of this abuse. I'm not even sure if I am going back to RAM. What should I do?"

Ernie didn't even hesitate. "Go back to RAM." He said.

I knew Darth Korey hated me and was not surprised when Ernie informed me that Darth had hire two thugs to beat me up and break my legs. That most likely was the plan when Jay Wells had invited me to go with him to the Full Sails restaurant for drinks. I instinctively knew at the time that something was amiss and had refused to accept his offer. Given the low-life, psychopathic personality of Darth, that revelation did not surprise me at all.

But basically I had violated the number one, prime law that is given in Robert Greene's book, The 48 Laws of power. Law 1 is "Always make those above you feel comfortably superior. In your desire to please or impress them, do not go too far in displaying your talents or you might accomplish the opposite - inspire FEAR and INSECURITY. Make your masters appear more brilliant than they are and you will attain the heights of power.

What I had never realized was that I was a slave and that I had made some very powerful and stupid masters look bad by exposing a very bad plan. I just hadn't realized I was a slave. I thought I was living in america - BOY WAS I WRONG!

LEGAL DOCUMENTS ALTERED - By Whom?

2009-11-13T15:48:00.000-08:00

The results of my laboratory tests finally came back and they were negative. Although the cancer scare was greatly reduced, the test were repeated at another hospital and the results were again negative. That meant the only health concern remaining was the problem I was having swallowing. In late May, I saw a throat specialist who cauterized my throat. After the severe pain caused by the cauterizing process mitigated, there was a marked improvement in my throat and my overall health. By June I was back on the tennis courts and was back looking for a job. I was also four thousand dollars poorer.

I began searching the want ads in June and soon had several leads toward a new job. One position I was interested in was with the General Energy Company. I went to Massachusetts for an interview and it went very well. A couple of weeks later I was invited back for a follow-up interview. Everything was going well until I had a meeting with the research director who gave me a very difficult time. He aggressively attacked to the point of being ridiculous, and he constantly put me on the defensive. The hostile nature of his interrogation made me suspicious. I left his office feeling I had handled his aggressive questions well, but I knew his hostile attitude toward me was not my imagination when Dr.Dan Wolf, who was acting as my host for the visit, apologized to me for the director's hostile behavior. I still felt the interview had gone well and I left fully expecting a job offer.

A week went by and I did not hear anything from General Energy. I became suspicious and anxious. I phoned Dr. Wolf's office, but I could not get a definite answer or a date when I would be told of their decision. I was just left hanging. Finally, I called Roger Cardell who worked for a recruiting agency. Since Roger had been helping me get some other leads I discussed the General Energy situation with him. He said he would make some inquires and find out what was going on. After a couple more weeks of getting the run same run around that I had been getting, Roger threw up his hands and said, “I don't know what is going on up there, but something funny is going on.” It was good to hear him confirm my suspicions. There could have been many reasons for my situation with General Energy, but I couldn't help but think that “they” were somehow involved. Finally, I did receive a letter from General Energy that stated that they did not have any positions at the present time.

In addition to writing for jobs, I also wrote to the Professional Relations Staff at the American Chemical Society and described what had happened at Gamma Supplies. Their response was that they sympathized with me, but there was nothing they could do to help me. They made a few suggestions on how I could improve my resume, but they gave me no advice on my problem with Gamma Supplies. I was disappointed because I thought the American Chemical Society might be one organization with enough muscle to help me.

In late June I unexpectedly received an official copy of my sworn statement for editing and signing from my attorney Leonard Smart. With a sense of satisfaction, I went to my bedroom and started reading. There is no way I could have expected what I saw. The statement was a string of meaningless, rambling words as if they had been said by someone totally crazy. I sat there stunned! I knew what I had told Cruz Little and what I had in my hands was not the same thing! I didn't know what to do and I was confused and scared. I kept thinking who has the power to alter legal documents. And now it seemed clear why Cruz Little had not been interested in what I was telling him about the illegalities that went on at Gamma Supplies. He was an integral part of the trial rigging! No wonder the judge
had ruled that Better Supplies must use outside legal council. Better Supplies staff lawyers would never have sold the company out.

Cruz Little also would have been a good source for how Darth Korey had received his information on the importance of the free formaldehyde and other inside information about the “Rapid Set” formulation. If Bruce Tittel had not been his source he was a good bet. It also helped explain why Darth Korey and Cruz Little would always have private conversations from which I was always excluded whenever we got together for legal proceedings.

THINK ABOUT IT! You have a federal judge making rediculous rulings in favor of one side of a lawsuit. You have the opposing lawyer helping the other side and you have critical testimony from a "programed" witness. Who could and would undermine the american judicial system to that extent to increase the wealth of a few select people???? WHO WOULD HAVE SUCH CONTEMPT AND DISDAIN FOR THE AMERICAN SYSTEM???

The Beginning of A New Hell

About a week after I received the sworn statement, Cruz Little called me. He repeatedly urged me to sign the sworn statement I had and to send it back to him. I told him I would read it over. There was no way I was going to sign the worthless statement I had. I also knew I had to keep that document as proof of a conspiracy. Since I was at my parents house that was occupied almost 24 hours a day, I put the document in my dresser drawer and tried to forget about it.

I recalled how in Februar my “friend” Cruz Little had sent me a copy of my original Gamma Supplies deposition . In his cover letter for that disposition he urged me to sign the document and return it to him. This was after I had told him my original testimony had been programmed through brainwashing techniques and that I was willing to testify against Gamma Supplies. His letter urging me to sign my Gamma Supplies deposition has since “disappeared” as have many related documents.
I continued to hunt for a job, but my concern that potential positions might be pulled out from under me by my ubiquitous tormentors was increasing. Then in early July, the RAM corporation contacted me as a result of a “situation wanted” advertisement I had placed. I filled out the application form and within a couple of weeks, I had an interview trip.

The RAM corporation offered a lot of advantages. First, it was big and if there was anywhere that I could hide, RAM was the place. Second, RAM was unique in that it supposedly offered lifetime job security. Since my career had been so damaged, and the Gamma Supplies threats against my working again were still on my mind, job security was an attractive feature. Thus, RAM became the job I really wanted. For several weeks I walked a tight rope by delaying accepting an offer I had just received from another company while I pushed for an offer from RAM. And I was also buying time to improve my health and increase my stamina which was at about 85% from my recent illnesses. Finally in mid-July, RAM gave me a verbal offer which I readily accepted. Since I was eager to get back to work because I needed the money, I agreed to start work the following week. Thus, by the end of July, I ended almost six months of unemployment. It is interesting that when I offered Gamma Supplies the consulting offer, I estimated that I would need about six months to recover from the hellish mental beatings I had been subjected to.

Same ol'. Same ol';Just a different cast.

The thoughts of all the threats against my career and life seemed behind me. My physical health was rapidly improving and getting back to normal. Just the prospect of having a job again helped me forget that the six month hiatus had cost me over four thousand dollars in medical bills alone. I was looking forward to returning to work, but there was still apprehension about going back into the industrial environment.

Chapter IV

My adversaries.................applied the one means that wins the easiest victory
over reason: Terror and force. ADOLF HITLER

I had not told any RAM personnel or any one associated with our move to RAM that I worked ten weeks for CoSteal corporation. To try to explain what had occurred there would have been futile. As we packed for our journey to Fitville, NY, I was making sure there no records or documents that could be associated with CoSteal or Louisville in my possessions. As I was going through my briefcase to make sure there were no papers related to CoSteal, Anita walked into the bedroom.

She asked. “What are you doing?”

I replied. “I'm making sure there are no papers related to CoSteal that I would have to explain. You know that lying on an application is cause for dismissal. And make sure when you are there that you never say anything about Louisville or CoSteal to anyone.”

“Don't worry.” She replied. “I know better than that. Just to be safe, I'd better check my things too.

There were two things I wanted to make sure of before we left for New York. First, I checked to make sure the CoSteal diary was packed with my valuable papers and second, I took another look at the copy of the sworn statement I had. It still read the same and it was nowhere near what I had testified to. Since I wanted to make sure the sworn statement did not leave my sight, I packed it with the diary in my suitcase. The next day we left for Fitville, NY and RAM.

The first few weeks at RAM were normal. I was always on the alert for coincidences, but none occurred and those questionable incidences that did occur could be readily explained away. On one occasion I went to lunch with Don Slewowski, my first level manager and a couple of coworkers. During the meal I talked about the beautiful mountains on the west coast and the enjoyment I received by hiking through the woods. When I returned to my office, my office partner Osama Ikill, who had not been at lunch, started talking about how beautiful he found the mountains on the west coast when he lived out there. I dismissed his comment as being a true coincident.

The first signs of trouble started when I tried to buy a house. We were working with a real estate agent and found a house under construction that we were interested in. The agent suggested we talk with the builder as soon as possible. That evening Anita, the real estate agent and I went to the office of the builder. The agent introduced us.

“Tom, this is Mr. And Mrs. LaBar.”

We shook hands and the Tom the builder said, “Oh, this is the couple from Louisville.”

Anita and I just looked at each other with a shocked look, and then after a period of silence, the real estate agent nervously commented. “No, no! They are from Chicago and Mr. LaBar has just started working for RAM.”

The rest of the meeting went smoothly, but I left feeling “they”had been present and that Tom or the real estate agent knew more about us than I wanted them to know. Tom's comment was just too much of a coincidence.

Fascist american Terrorism Starts Up Again After I Buy A House

The second problem arose at work in mid-August when I started arranging to have my
belongings shipped from Louisville to Fitville. We had decided to purchase the house wehad looked at and a completion date of the first of September had been given to us. By setting in motion the paper work to get our belongings, I thought the shipment could be made with little or no delay. However, the man at RAM shipping started giving me a bad time. He said he had to have two estimates. I told him that I already had an exact weight, the rates were federally regulated and the items were in storage with a carrier and that no other moving company would give me an estimate under those conditions. The man in shipping became adamant and totally unreasonable. He would not ship the items without two estimates. The issue was so ridiculous that I began to wonder if this wasn't some planned frustration like that I had so frequently encountered at Gamma Supplies.

My worst fears were confirmed soon after our house closing on August 30th. I was busily working in the laboratory when an RAM pen I had in my pants pocket began to leak. The ink stained my pants so I went looking around the laboratory for some dry cleaning chemicals. When I couldn't find any, I went into the adjacent laboratory and asked coworker Dick Sawyer to help me locate the chemicals. After some searching, we found what we were looking for and I began to clean my pants. Instead of cleaning though, the chemical spread the ink stain to an even larger spot.

“This doesn't seem to working to well.” I said. “I started with a small spot and now I have a large one."

“It doesn't seem to be doing much good. It looks like you're doing cloth chromatography instead of cleaning it.” Dick agreed.

I worked on the spot a little more and then went back into the other laboratory to continue working at the bench. About five minutes later, my boss, Don Sienkowski, came walking into the lab. I turned and said “hi” and then went back to my work. Don stopped beside me as if he wanted to talk, but I ignored him because I was busy. Finally, Don grabbed me by the arm and insisted I talk with him.

“I see you had some trouble with your pen.” He said.

“Yes,” I replied. “A good old RAM pen leaked all over.”

With that once again I turned back to my work, but Don continued. “I was on a trip in Chicago once and I had this nice white shirt on. A pen I had in my pocket started to leak and created a small black spot. Well, the fellow who was showing me around the lab got some acetone for me to use to remove the spot, but it just spread it out to a bigger one. It was like I did cloth chromatography rather than cleaning it.”

I just stared at Don. His insistence that he tell me the story and his choice of words was too much to be a coincidence. Don looked at me as if to say “do you get the message” and then continued his tour of the laboratory. I was left in a state of fear and anxiety. From that point on, coincidences abounded at RAM.

After that coincidence, I began to wonder about some other things that had occurred. When we had our house closing, I scheduled it at eight thirty on a weekday morning. About three days before the closing, Don came into my office to tell me he had scheduled an important meeting on my research project at exactly the same time my house closing was scheduled. It was a classic “no win”/psychological double bind situation. There was conflict created between attending my house closing and attending an important meeting at work. And, as I was to find out later, there was a general policy in the department not to
schedule any meetings before nine A.M., because many people like myself had flexible
working hours and some people did not show up for work until nine or later. I ended up spending a lot of time and effort to make sure my attorney could close on the house for meso I could attend my critical work meeting. At the time, I considered the whole incident an inconvenience.

Nazi Terrorism and the american injustice(sic) system.

If you think you are “free” in this country and you work for a living, read the previous post again. I was a slave! If I wasn't a good slave, the masters, the owners would force me to a subsistence level of existence. And since I already knew how corrupt and worthless the american judicial was, I had no legal avenues to pursue. I will relate later how the american slavery system was enforced on other employees.

The phone was also used to modify my behavior in other ways. I had decided to make another dentist appointment by the same dentist which had broken my tooth. On the first call, the receptionist answered , identified herself and then we were cut off. I immediately called back. This time I got to identify myself before the call was cut off again. On the third call I was explaining to the receptionist how my calls were being cut off when it happened again. At that point I decided “they” did not want me to go back to that dentist, and “they” or somebody else were cutting off my phone calls. I found another dentist in the phone book and I called and made an appointment without any problems. My choice of dentists had been made by cutting off my phone calls.

At this point I had become pretty desperate and was hoping to find some way out of my predicament before I went completely insane. I decided to call Cruz Little and find out where the lawsuit stood. I called with some apprehension because of the altered sworn statement, but I needed to know where things stood in the Gamma Supplies legal battle. He informed me that the judge had reversed his earlier decision(surprise!) and now the lawsuit would be decided on the merits of the case which meant my testimony and signed deposition was important and needed. He also informed me that after a year and a half of unemployment Ravi Sardess was now employed by a foundry supply company and now they were going to take his deposition. It was very clear that my captors and tormentors believed in obtaining testimony through economic extortion. In other words, if you want to work, you will testify as “they” tell you to testify. “They” were definitely a criminal element. And, many years later, I learned that Ravi didn't get just a job, he was the company Technical Director.

“You are wasting your time; he'll sing the Gamma Supplies story now.” I told Cruz. “I don't know who is behind this, but they can move mountains and Ravi isn't about to testify against them.”

Cruz seemed oblivious to my comments and continued on as if nothing was wrong. I hung up feeling worse that ever. Not only was my testimony important, I had no place to turn.

A Slave's Choice: Torture or Death!

It was a bit ironic that my new next-door-neighbor turned out to be a FBI agent who
specialized in corporate crime. I really didn't have much faith in the FBI being able to helpme with my problems since the government in general had had very little success in an anti-trust suit they had against RAM. The people who were causing my problems were a power elite who literally were above the law. In fact I was becoming more and more convinced that some arm of the government was behind my problems. But, since I had no other hope, I thought I would talk to the agent and maybe use it as leverage.

One weekend while Anita was away visiting her father, I got the opportunity to talk with my new neighbor. I talked to him about my problem in generalities and he seemed interested, but he was more interested in the general business practices at IBM. Little came out of the conversation except an affirmation in my mind that he would be able to do little to help me.

The following Monday I decided to approach my boss to see what response I would get. I went into his office and got directly to the point.

“Hi Don. Do you have a moment to talk about something?”

“Come on in Russ,” he replied.

I took out a small pocket tape recorder and said, “Do you mind if I record this conversation because it is important?”

Don became extremely nervous and started tapping his pencil on the desk and bouncing his feet on the floor. “We can talk about anything you like, but you can't record it!”

I said fine and then continued. “My next door neighbor is a FBI agent, and if the harassment doesn't stop around here I'm going to talk to them. Now you can tell that to whomever you please, but I am not kidding.”

Don was excited and nervous and he didn't know what to say. Apparently “they” had not briefed him for handling such a situation. “Fine, I'll pass you message on,” he finally replied.

“Good.” I said. “Because I'm tired of living like this.”

“You know Russ, you should trust RAM. We would never participate in any nefarious scheme and besides, the FBI treats people pretty rough too.”

I left Don's office feeling at least Don was worried about my going to the FBI. I really had no intention of going to the FBI, but I was hoping the threat might bring some change.

The response to my FBI threat was swift and retaliatory as usual. That afternoon I was working alone in the laboratory when my second level manager, Gene Leski came in and started a conversation with me. After some idle chatter, Gene said, “Russ, a person could get killed working alone.” Then after a long pause he added, “working in the lab that is.” I took the comment to be a disguised threat on my life, but the way it was worded I could never prove it.

That evening I told Anita what had happened and I said, “He worded the threat in such a way that you could argue that it was a harmless comment, but if you had been there, the only way it could have been taken was as a threat.”

One thing the threat had not done was cause any great increase in my anxiety. I just was not worried about them killing me because I believed “they” did not need another martyr like Karen Silkwood on their hands.

The next day at work was fairly normal. There were no harassing phone calls or strange incidences. As I was about to leave work Don Slewowski grabbed me and said he had to talk to me about working in the lab. I said Gene already had spoken to me and another conversation on the topic wasn't necessary. But Don insisted.

“You know Russ, some of your actions are really dangerous. You could get seriously hurt or even killed if you keep it up.”

“I know, Gene already informed me.”

“Well, I'm just telling you for your own protection,” Don assured me with a threatening tone in his voice.

I left work feeling again that my life had been threatened, but it was done under the disguise of working alone in the laboratory. First, none of the threats ever mentioned my comments about going to the FBI and two RAM trained, smooth talking managers would not use words like “killed” in talking about a minor infraction of working in the laboratory alone. Finally, the tone of Don's voice was more threatening than advising, but as usual a person would sound crazy if he said RAM managers were making threats against your life. Given the situation, it would be hard not to take them as threats. This time, the comments did have the intended effect in that they created a great deal of anxiety and a sense of panic set in.

NEW START - SAME OLD AMERICAN TERRORISTS

2009-07-11T05:36:00.000-07:00

Illness Problems Get Worse
My attempt to find another job came to a complete halt. In early April, after several delays, I went on an interview trip to and east coast company. I was so run down that I had difficulty staying awake during the interview. Obviously I did not get the job and that experience told me I should cancel all other job hunting efforts until I regained my health. Thus I terminated all efforts to find a job and concentrated on regaining my strength and my health.

By the end of April I was feeling better, but I was still having difficulty swallowing. The doctor decided to run some more tests. A couple of days later I returned to his office for the test results. The doctor appeared anxious. He told me to sit down and then asked me, “Are you very religious? Do you have a minister or someone you can talk to?”

I just sat there wondering what was wrong.

He continued! “There seems to be a spot on your x-ray at the base of your esophagus. We are not sure what it is. It appears to be some sort of growth.”

I sat there stunned. After all I had been through now I was being hit with this. We talked about what the x-ray showed and the doctor was not very encouraging. Ironically, the doctor himself had had throat cancer and was very knowledgeable on the subject. From his experience and based on the location of the growth, he concluded there was a 90% chance the lump was malignant. The doctor also suggested that I talk with someone for both my medical problems and for my Gamma Supplies problems which I had mentioned to him. He then scheduled me for some more tests to determine if the lump was cancerous or benign. It would take a week to have the test run and to get the results.

Later that week I was Paul Dujour a Ph. D. Clinical psychologist, and I began to relate my Gamma Supplies story to him. I was relieved when he didn't doubt me and he was willing to try to help me. Since I was in a very anxious state because of my medical problems, he suggested that I see a psychiatrist who could prescribe medication to help me calm down.

The next day I was Dr. Mengele, a psychiatrist, for a short visit and suffered a severe anxiety attack when he refused to believe anything I told him. He concluded I was totally crazy and then prescribed medication for me. The medication did help me calm down, but the visit to Dr. Mengele put Ralph Dujour and my family doctor, both whom believed me in the middle between Dr. Mengele and them. Paul was a professional colleague of Dr. Mengele and he had to listen to and respect the opinions of Dr. Mengele. However, Paul continued to believe me and support me in subsequent discussions.

What bothered me about Dr. Mengele was not his opinion of me as a person, but rather his opinion supported the government/big business plan to make me look mentally ill. I could not let that happen. Later I was to find out that Dr. Mengele was head of the Psychiatric Department at East Scranton General Hospital and I learned that his staff had a very low opinion of him. As a Dr. Menegele colleague psychiatrist said to me on a later occasion, “Dr. Mengele is on the wrong side of the desk!” What I later found out about Dr. Mengele and many people, but not all in the psychiatric profession IN THE US, is that Dr. Menegele placed a premium on serving the political system and on acquiring power.

LEGAL DOCUMENTS ALTERED - By Whom?
The results of my laboratory tests finally came back and they were negative. Although the cancer scare was greatly reduced, the test were repeated at another hospital and the results were again negative. That meant the only health concern remaining was the problem I was having swallowing. In late May, I saw a throat specialist who cauterized my throat. After the severe pain caused by the cauterizing process mitigated, there was a marked improvement in my throat and my overall health. By June I was back on the tennis courts and was back looking for a job. I was also four thousand dollars poorer.

I began searching the want ads in June and soon had several leads toward a new job. One position I was interested in was with the General Energy Company. I went to Massachusetts for an interview and it went very well. A couple of weeks later I was invited back for a follow-up interview. Everything was going well until I had a meeting with the research director who gave me a very difficult time. He aggressively attacked to the point of being ridiculous, and he constantly put me on the defensive. The hostile nature of his interrogation made me suspicious. I left his office feeling I had handled his aggressive questions well, but I knew his hostile attitude toward me was not my imagination when Dr.Dan Wolf, who was acting as my host for the visit, apologized to me for the director's hostile behavior. I still felt the interview had gone well and I left fully expecting a job offer.

A week went by and I did not hear anything from General Energy. I became suspicious and anxious. I phoned Dr. Wolf's office, but I could not get a definite answer or a date when I would be told of their decision. I was just left hanging. Finally, I called Roger Cardell who worked for a recruiting agency. Since Roger had been helping me get some other leads I discussed the General Energy situation with him. He said he would make some inquires and find out what was going on. After a couple more weeks of getting the run same run around that I had been getting, Roger threw up his hands and said, “I don't know what is going on up there, but something funny is going on.” It was good to hear him confirm my suspicions. There could have been many reasons for my situation with General Energy, but I couldn't help but think that “they” were somehow involved. Finally, I did receive a letter from General Energy that stated that they did not have any positions at the present time.

In addition to writing for jobs, I also wrote to the Professional Relations Staff at the American Chemical Society and described what had happened at Gamma Supplies. Their response was that they sympathized with me, but there was nothing they could do to help me. They made a few suggestions on how I could improve my resume, but they gave me no advice on my problem with Gamma Supplies. I was disappointed because I thought the American Chemical Society might be one organization with enough muscle to help me.

In late June I unexpectedly received an official copy of my sworn statement for editing and signing from my attorney Leonard Smart. With a sense of satisfaction, I went to my bedroom and started reading. There is no way I could have expected what I saw. The statement was a string of meaningless, rambling words as if they had been said by someone totally crazy. I sat there stunned! I knew what I had told Cruz Little and what I had in my hands was not the same thing! I didn't know what to do and I was confused and scared. I kept thinking who has the power to alter legal documents. And now it seemed clear why Cruz Little had not been interested in what I was telling him about the illegalities that went on at Gamma Supplies. He was an integral part of the trial rigging! No wonder the judge
had ruled that Better Supplies must use outside legal council. Better Supplies staff lawyers would never have sold the company out.

Cruz Little also would have been a good source for how Darth Korey had received his information on the importance of the free formaldehyde and other inside information about the “Rapid Set” formulation. If Bruce Tittel had not been his source he was a good bet. It also helped explain why Darth Korey and Cruz Little would always have private conversations from which I was always excluded whenever we got together for legal proceedings.

THINK ABOUT IT! You have a federal judge making rediculous rulings in favor of one side of a lawsuit. You have the opposing lawyer helping the other side and you have critical testimony from a "programed" witness. Who could and would undermine the american judicial system to that extent to increase the wealth of a few select people???? WHO WOULD HAVE SUCH CONTEMPT AND DISDAIN FOR THE AMERICAN SYSTEM???

The Beginning of A New Hell
About a week after I received the sworn statement, Cruz Little called me. He repeatedly urged me to sign the sworn statement I had and to send it back to him. I told him I would read it over. There was no way I was going to sign the worthless statement I had. I also knew I had to keep that document as proof of a conspiracy. Since I was at my parents house that was occupied almost 24 hours a day, I put the document in my dresser drawer and tried to forget about it.

I recalled how in Februar my “friend” Cruz Little had sent me a copy of my original Gamma Supplies deposition . In his cover letter for that disposition he urged me to sign the document and return it to him. This was after I had told him my original testimony had been programmed through brainwashing techniques and that I was willing to testify against Gamma Supplies. His letter urging me to sign my Gamma Supplies deposition has since “disappeared” as have many related documents.
I continued to hunt for a job, but my concern that potential positions might be pulled out from under me by my ubiquitous tormentors was increasing. Then in early July, the RAM corporation contacted me as a result of a “situation wanted” advertisement I had placed. I filled out the application form and within a couple of weeks, I had an interview trip.

The RAM corporation offered a lot of advantages. First, it was big and if there was anywhere that I could hide, RAM was the place. Second, RAM was unique in that it supposedly offered lifetime job security. Since my career had been so damaged, and the Gamma Supplies threats against my working again were still on my mind, job security was an attractive feature. Thus, RAM became the job I really wanted. For several weeks I walked a tight rope by delaying accepting an offer I had just received from another company while I pushed for an offer from RAM. And I was also buying time to improve my health and increase my stamina which was at about 85% from my recent illnesses. Finally in mid-July, RAM gave me a verbal offer which I readily accepted. Since I was eager to get back to work because I needed the money, I agreed to start work the following week. Thus, by the end of July, I ended almost six months of unemployment. It is interesting that when I offered Gamma Supplies the consulting offer, I estimated that I would need about six months to recover from the hellish mental beatings I had been subjected to.

Same ol'. Sameol';Just a different cast.
The thoughts of all the threats against my career and life seemed behind me. My physical health was rapidly improving and getting back to normal. Just the prospect of having a job again helped me forget that the six month hiatus had cost me over four thousand dollars in medical bills alone. I was looking forward to returning to work, but there was still apprehension about going back into the industrial environment.

Chapter IV

My adversaries.................applied the one means that wins the easiest victory
over reason: Terror and force. ADOLF HITLER

I had not told any RAM personnel or any one associated with our move to RAM that I worked ten weeks for CoSteal corporation. To try to explain what had occurred there would have been futile. As we packed for our journey to Fitville, NY, I was making sure there no records or documents that could be associated with CoSteal or Louisville in my possessions. As I was going through my briefcase to make sure there were no papers related to CoSteal, Anita walked into the bedroom.

She asked. “What are you doing?”

I replied. “I'm making sure there are no papers related to CoSteal that I would have to explain. You know that lying on an application is cause for dismissal. And make sure when you are there that you never say anything about Louisville or CoSteal to anyone.”

“Don't worry.” She replied. “I know better than that. Just to be safe, I'd better check my things too.

There were two things I wanted to make sure of before we left for New York. First, I checked to make sure the CoSteal diary was packed with my valuable papers and second, I took another look at the copy of the sworn statement I had. It still read the same and it was nowhere near what I had testified to. Since I wanted to make sure the sworn statement did not leave my sight, I packed it with the diary in my suitcase. The next day we left for Fitville, NY and RAM.

The first few weeks at RAM were normal. I was always on the alert for coincidences, but none occurred and those questionable incidences that did occur could be readily explained away. On one occasion I went to lunch with Don Slewowski, my first level manager and a couple of coworkers. During the meal I talked about the beautiful mountains on the west coast and the enjoyment I received by hiking through the woods. When I returned to my office, my office partner Osama Ikill, who had not been at lunch, started talking about how beautiful he found the mountains on the west coast when he lived out there. I dismissed his comment as being a true coincident.

The first signs of trouble started when I tried to buy a house. We were working with a real estate agent and found a house under construction that we were interested in. The agent suggested we talk with the builder as soon as possible. That evening Anita, the real estate agent and I went to the office of the builder. The agent introduced us.

“Tom, this is Mr. And Mrs. LaBar.”

We shook hands and the Tom the builder said, “Oh, this is the couple from Louisville.”

Anita and I just looked at each other with a shocked look, and then after a period of silence, the real estate agent nervously commented. “No, no! They are from Chicago and Mr. LaBar has just started working for RAM.”

The rest of the meeting went smoothly, but I left feeling “they”had been present and that Tom or the real estate agent knew more about us than I wanted them to know. Tom's comment was just too much of a coincidence.

Fascist american Terrorism Starts Up Again After I Buy A House
The second problem arose at work in mid-August when I started arranging to have my
belongings shipped from Louisville to Fitville. We had decided to purchase the house wehad looked at and a completion date of the first of September had been given to us. By setting in motion the paper work to get our belongings, I thought the shipment could be made with little or no delay. However, the man at RAM shipping started giving me a bad time. He said he had to have two estimates. I told him that I already had an exact weight, the rates were federally regulated and the items were in storage with a carrier and that no other moving company would give me an estimate under those conditions. The man in shipping became adamant and totally unreasonable. He would not ship the items without two estimates. The issue was so ridiculous that I began to wonder if this wasn't some planned frustration like that I had so frequently encountered at Gamma Supplies.

My worst fears were confirmed soon after our house closing on August 30th. I was busily working in the laboratory when an RAM pen I had in my pants pocket began to leak. The ink stained my pants so I went looking around the laboratory for some dry cleaning chemicals. When I couldn't find any, I went into the adjacent laboratory and asked coworker Dick Sawyer to help me locate the chemicals. After some searching, we found what we were looking for and I began to clean my pants. Instead of cleaning though, the chemical spread the ink stain to an even larger spot.

“This doesn't seem to working to well.” I said. “I started with a small spot and now I have a large one."

“It doesn't seem to be doing much good. It looks like you're doing cloth chromatography instead of cleaning it.” Dick agreed.

I worked on the spot a little more and then went back into the other laboratory to continue working at the bench. About five minutes later, my boss, Don Sienkowski, came walking into the lab. I turned and said “hi” and then went back to my work. Don stopped beside me as if he wanted to talk, but I ignored him because I was busy. Finally, Don grabbed me by the arm and insisted I talk with him.

“I see you had some trouble with your pen.” He said.

“Yes,” I replied. “A good old RAM pen leaked all over.”

With that once again I turned back to my work, but Don continued. “I was on a trip in Chicago once and I had this nice white shirt on. A pen I had in my pocket started to leak and created a small black spot. Well, the fellow who was showing me around the lab got some acetone for me to use to remove the spot, but it just spread it out to a bigger one. It was like I did cloth chromatography rather than cleaning it.”

I just stared at Don. His insistence that he tell me the story and his choice of words was too much to be a coincidence. Don looked at me as if to say “do you get the message” and then continued his tour of the laboratory. I was left in a state of fear and anxiety. From that point on, coincidences abounded at RAM.

After that coincidence, I began to wonder about some other things that had occurred. When we had our house closing, I scheduled it at eight thirty on a weekday morning. About three days before the closing, Don came into my office to tell me he had scheduled an important meeting on my research project at exactly the same time my house closing was scheduled. It was a classic “no win”/psychological double bind situation. There was conflict created between attending my house closing and attending an important meeting at work. And, as I was to find out later, there was a general policy in the department not to
schedule any meetings before nine A.M., because many people like myself had flexible
working hours and some people did not show up for work until nine or later. I ended up spending a lot of time and effort to make sure my attorney could close on the house for meso I could attend my critical work meeting. At the time, I considered the whole incident an inconvenience.

Fascist american Terrorism Starts Up Again After I Buy A House
The second problem arose at work in mid-August when I started arranging to have my
belongings shipped from Louisville to Fitville. We had decided to purchase the house wehad looked at and a completion date of the first of September had been given to us. By setting in motion the paper work to get our belongings, I thought the shipment could be made with little or no delay. However, the man at RAM shipping started giving me a bad time. He said he had to have two estimates. I told him that I already had an exact weight, the rates were federally regulated and the items were in storage with a carrier and that no other moving company would give me an estimate under those conditions. The man in shipping became adamant and totally unreasonable. He would not ship the items without two estimates. The issue was so ridiculous that I began to wonder if this wasn't some planned frustration like that I had so frequently encountered at Gamma Supplies.

My worst fears were confirmed soon after our house closing on August 30th. I was busily working in the laboratory when an RAM pen I had in my pants pocket began to leak. The ink stained my pants so I went looking around the laboratory for some dry cleaning chemicals. When I couldn't find any, I went into the adjacent laboratory and asked coworker Dick Sawyer to help me locate the chemicals. After some searching, we found what we were looking for and I began to clean my pants. Instead of cleaning though, the chemical spread the ink stain to an even larger spot.

“This doesn't seem to working to well.” I said. “I started with a small spot and now I have a large one."

“It doesn't seem to be doing much good. It looks like you're doing cloth chromatography instead of cleaning it.” Dick agreed.

I worked on the spot a little more and then went back into the other laboratory to continue working at the bench. About five minutes later, my boss, Don Sienkowski, came walking into the lab. I turned and said “hi” and then went back to my work. Don stopped beside me as if he wanted to talk, but I ignored him because I was busy. Finally, Don grabbed me by the arm and insisted I talk with him.

“I see you had some trouble with your pen.” He said.

“Yes,” I replied. “A good old RAM pen leaked all over.”

With that once again I turned back to my work, but Don continued. “I was on a trip in Chicago once and I had this nice white shirt on. A pen I had in my pocket started to leak and created a small black spot. Well, the fellow who was showing me around the lab got some acetone for me to use to remove the spot, but it just spread it out to a bigger one. It was like I did cloth chromatography rather than cleaning it.”

I just stared at Don. His insistence that he tell me the story and his choice of words was too much to be a coincidence. Don looked at me as if to say “do you get the message” and then continued his tour of the laboratory. I was left in a state of fear and anxiety. From that point on, coincidences abounded at RAM.

After that coincidence, I began to wonder about some other things that had occurred. When we had our house closing, I scheduled it at eight thirty on a weekday morning. About three days before the closing, Don came into my office to tell me he had scheduled an important meeting on my research project at exactly the same time my house closing was scheduled. It was a classic “no win”/psychological double bind situation. There was conflict created between attending my house closing and attending an important meeting at work. And, as I was to find out later, there was a general policy in the department not to
schedule any meetings before nine A.M., because many people like myself had flexible
working hours and some people did not show up for work until nine or later. I ended up spending a lot of time and effort to make sure my attorney could close on the house for meso I could attend my critical work meeting. At the time, I considered the whole incident an inconvenience.

I also had experienced a minor dental problem in August that required treatment by a dentist. I had experienced some sensitivity in a tooth and decided to have it checked out. I checked with the people in the lab and finally Don told me of a clinic near the RAM facility. A quick phone call and the fact that I worked for RAM which had complete dental insurance got me an immediate appointment.

The dentist diagnosed my problem as a hairline crack in a filling and fixing it would be no problem. He started to drill the tooth before putting in a small filling. As he drilled he kept pushing harder and harder against the back of the tooth. He was pushing so hard that I started to reach up with my hand to push him back when he exclaimed, “Oops, I just broke your tooth off. I'm going to have to give you a temporary filling now because a the regular filling is going to take a lot more work and time.” With that he gave me a temporary filling and told me to come back in a couple of weeks for a permanent one. The dentist seemed quite nervous about the whole incident, but I dismissed it at the time as a result of his having made a mistake. Later, I was so sure the whole incident was truly an
accident. I examined the tooth in the mirror and found the entire back half of the tooth had been broken off at the gum line. It was not a minor slip.

I began to express my doubts to my wife. “How can I be sure “they” didn't arrange to have my tooth broken. Their whole intent seems to be to inflict as much pain and frustration on me as they can.

I continued. “And you know how “they” work. The could have had this done to my tooth, or it could have been an accident. I just don't believe it was an accident because the dentist was pushing so hard I was ready to stop him, I said to Anita. I think it was deliberate, but I can't prove it.”

Anita just listened and said nothing.

Two weeks later, in early September I returned to the dentist to get a permanent filling. I had a noon time appointment in order to avoid missing any work. When I arrived the receptionist informed me there would be a slight delay because the dentist had an emergency. Just as I sat down, out of the dentist's office walked Don Slewowski. He smiled and said, “Hi Russ. I hope you don't mind my using your time, but when I called and found out this time was yours I convinced the dentist to fit me in.”

I was stunned. It was just too much of a coincidence that my boss should have an “emergency” on the same day and time that I had my appointment. And how did he know that the time was reserved for me?

When I went in to the dentist, he was visibly nervous and his hands were shaking. He gave me an examination and then filled the tooth he had broken. The filling was so large that it required a pin to hold it in place.

I was furious. I was convinced my broken tooth had not been an accident or at the very least, things had been orchestrated to make it look like it had not been an accident. When I went home that evening I decided to test Anita. I started by saying “Well the dentist fixed my tooth today and he gave me a complete examination. I'll bet you can never guess who was in the dentist chair when I got there."

Without even pausing, Anita replied. “Don Slewowski”.

“Yes,” I replied. “Some coincidence that he just happen to have an emergency today.”

Anita's response was reassuring because it told me that the coincidences were so obvious that she recognized them as such. After that part of the conversation I went on raving about how sick my tormentors were, and that I couldn't even afford to get sick because I didn't know if I would get proper medical treatment.

My boss Don Slewowski was a ten year RAM employee who had worked his way up the
ranks. He had started his career with Exon and came to RAM when the Fitville facility was being built up. Apparently, from the number of ex-Exon employees at RAM, they had raided Exon's technical staff in the late sixties to fill their expanding needs. Don was a very insecure person who always seemed to be on the edge of one disaster after another. Some of the disasters he seemed to create either through his own inadequacies or by design. Somehow I never felt he was sharp enough to be totally responsible for deliberately creating the disasters he would find himself in, but he did know how to take full advantage of the messes when they occurred.

After I had been at RAM for awhile, I found “crisis management” was a favorite game played not only by Don but most of RAM managers. “Crisis management” seemed to be the way managers got a sense of importance and visibility. The project I had been assigned to was a true crisis, and the failure of my area to solve the problem was causing major production problems to the point that the site manager, who would eventually become President Ronald Reagan's science advisor, was having weekly review meetings on the problem. Don loved the exposure, but he was totally unequipped to handle a problem of that magnitude. The crisis problem plus the problems created by my presence made me wonder if Don could take all the pressure.

My other daily contacts at work besides Don consisted primarily of Osama Ikill, my office partner, Klause Closeau, the Senior Scientist working on the problem I had been assigned to and Dick Sawyer, a laboratory technician who was doing a lot of the lab work for Klause.

Osama was an Armenian who had received his education in Lebanon and then came to the United States to attend graduate school at Cal Tech. Osama had many of the characteristics that Buzz had at Gamma Supplies, and Osama really did have that defiant attitude that seemed to characterize Buzz. What was clear was that Buzz was close to Don and a couple of the older employees in my area. For a new relatively new employee, Osama seemed to fit well in the highly political environment that existed at RAM. And being a non-American my tormentors loved using him to terrorize a native borne American – me. As with Buzz and others, to the ruling fascist government, American citizenship is of no value if you are poor.

Klause Closeau and Dick Sawyer were both old-time Ram employees, and they were close personal friends. Together they had taken a research material and made it a practical product for use in RAM's micro-chip manufacturing. In their haste to be successful they had overlooked or hidden some serious problems that the material had, and now that the chemical was in full scale use, the problems were becoming apparent and causing difficulties on the chip manufacturing line. To make matters worse, RAM was unable to manufacture the material in sufficient quantities to keep the chip manufacturing line going. Klause was a very capable chemist and very skillful at dodging the blame for the current predicament. Now I was being placed in the position of solving the problems that Klause, Dick and the rest of the RAM research staff was unable to solve. The problem had grown to such proportions that outside consultants, including Nobel prize winner Paul J. Flory, had been called in for advise. Although Klause resented someone intruding into his territory, I believe he was glad to have some capable help and to have someone else take the heat for a while.

MORE TERROR - NO ESCAPE
Dick on the other had was much more cynical and resentful. All his years of being at the bottom of the pecking order had left him with some deep bitterness towards the IBM system and that bitterness sometimes showed itself in directed hostility. In many ways, Dick had the same resentment toward the IBM system that many older veterans had, but Dick's personality was such that he tried to get back at the system every chance he got. I was the perfect target for his pent up hostilities and his need for revenge. Dick instructed me in the practical aspects of handling the problem material. While I worked well with Bill, he was to become one of my primary antagonists while I was employed at RAM.

The orchestrated harassment began to intensify in mid September and what I call cross-over events began to occur. Cross-over events were references at work about things which had occurred at home in my personal life. It was a form of torment which let me know that I had absolutely no privacy. And lack of privacy is a key element in mental torture.

Anita's father had been having some serious medical problems and had to be confined to a hospital bed. Since I would not allow a phone in the house because of because of the the annoying calls, Anita had to call her mother from a neighbor's house. Since every effort at work was made to be cruel to me, I made no mention of my father-in-law's medical problems for fear that it would be used to antagonize me. Then one day, Hun Wong from the sister Polymer Science Technology group and a close friend of Osama's stopped by my office.

“Hi, Russ.” He said. “How come you look so down?”

I was surprised that Hun(I believe another non-american) stopped by to talk to me because in general I was isolated and people avoided me. He was correct in that I was becoming depressed.

I responded, “Oh, I have some personal problems that are getting to me.”

“Yes, I heard you were having some personal problems and that your father was in the hospital and has been in serious condition.” He replied.

I didn't even question how he knew about my personal life. I was use to it by now. However, I have always been curious why he mixed up my father for my father-in-law. Maybe he just didn't get the story straight. I had not said anything to anyone and I could only assume his reference was to my father-in-law's medical condition. I should add that that was the only time Hun ever came up and talked to me.

My privacy at work was also invaded in ways similar to those used at Gamma Supplies. In fact, most of the techniques were the same, but no mention was ever made of Gamma Supplies. I still had the practice of leaving my briefcase on my desk and one day I came in my office and found it had been moved. I quickly checked through it to find a memo on Closteal letterhead! I had checked several times to make sure there were no references to Closteal in my briefcase, and now after finding by briefcase moved, there was a memo on Closteal letterhead prominently located in the file holder. This conjured up all sorts of fears about being fired for lying on the employment application. Of course, it reaffirmed that my briefcase was not a safe place to keep anything important. There would be many more threats toward my employment situation and most of them were much more direct. The purpose was the create FEAR, ANXIETY and more FEAR.

I continued to get annoying phone calls at work, and when I complained to my bosses they said it was just people getting the wrong number and nothing could be done. Terrorizing me by phone expanded to include letting me know that all my phone calls were being monitored. One day I had to call an old friend at a former company (pre Delta Oil) for some technical information for my current research project. As we talked I mentioned my Gamma Supplies problems and told him I was still considering a lawsuit against my former employer. After the conversation I went back to work and thought no more of it. About five minutes later I was walking by Don's office when he called me in. Don seemed more nervous than usual. He began by getting right to the point.

“Russ, I don't know what kind of problems you had with your former employer, but if you should decide to sue them, the RAM lawyers would have to see if you could remain employed here. I don't think that would be possible. But that's just in case you should decide to sue. Otherwise there are no problems.” I just stood there and didn't know what to say. The message was clear. My phone calls were being monitored as was everything else in my life and, I could not sue Gamma Supplies.

Also by telling me immediately after I had just made the phone call, the greatest conditioning terrorizing impact had been made. My behavior was being modified. From then on I would have to be very careful of what I said on the phone.

The Truth About My Situation as a Slave

2009-07-03T05:23:00.000-07:00

My sworn statement started with Mr. Little making a summary statement about how this
meeting had come about and the conditions under which the statement was being given. The two major stipulations were that I would not violate any contractual agreements I had with Gamma Supplies and that the information would be held in confidence and would not be disclosed to anyone else, including Better Supplies personnel. Other than for confidentiality reasons, I really don't know why I agreed to the latter point. That was a HUGH mistake.

In addition to Mr. Little, his partner, Barry Champs, my attorney, Leonard G. Smart and a Notary Public was present. Because of my high state of anxiety, I rambled on for almost three hours. However, I did manage to make four major points. First, Gamma Supplies was being backed by someone in their legal battle with Better Supplies. Tenneland definitely had some interest. Second, my testimony had been programed through mind control (brainwashing) techniques and then I was driven from the company and threatened. Third, Darth Korey had definitely perjured himself during his deposition. And fourth, my deposition, as is, could not be used in a court of law because I had not signed it and I had not waived my right to sign it.

Cruz Little and his partner asked a few questions to keep me on track, but said little of any value to me. During my statement I constantly needed to drink water to sooth my sore throat. My nervousness and state of anxiety were readily apparent. I was surprised after the sworn statement at Cruz Little's apparent lack of interest in what I had told him. Instead he questioned me off the record on why I had not accepted the Tenneland job offer. His lack of concern about the substance of what I had said concerned me and I definitely did not get the feeling that he was going to be any help.

After I completed my deposition I continued to relate to Cruz Little and Barry Champs other incidences that had happened at Gamma Supplies. I related the early attempts to get me to commit sexual indescretions and pointed out that at the time I considered the possibility that such an act might be used for psychological blackmail latter down the road. It had just seemed to me from my initial read of Darth Korey that psychological blackmail would be just the type of thing he and his unidentified partners would do. To my surprise, Cruz Little's reaction was one of astonishment! His jaw just about dropped to the floor and he exclaimed, “YOU KNEW THAT?!”

His remark took me off guard and I responded, “Of course, it seemed obvious to me.” What I couldn't understand was his reaction to what I was telling him. It scared me. I should point out the several years latter, the movie The Firm(1993) the sex act pyschological blackmail was used by a criminal element against the victim(Tom Cruise).

After the sworn statement and talking with Cruz Little I felt relief and took the occasion to chat with my new lawyer, Leonard Smart.

I said, “Why do people do things like this? It is so senseless and costly.”

“Let me tell you something,” he replied. “ I have clients who take action against other people, and I advise them that it's not in their best interest. It is not good for their health, it is not good for their business, but they insist on going through with it. These people just aren't happy unless they are making someone else's life miserable.”

I knew what he was saying was true because my attorney in Wisconsin had told me
the same thing in different words.

“But what can I do? They will destroy me. They are creating a lie(mental illness) at my expense and they are going to live and die by that lie”.

“I don't know what to tell you”, Barry replied. “The best I can do is offer you a couple of my Valium.”

I thanked him but said “no."

Never Trust A Lawyer!!!!!
I left the building alone and I constantly looked over both shoulders as I walked to my car parked in the parking garage. Before I started the engine I checked under the hood for explosives and looked around the rest of the car. I still feared for my life, but more than that, I feared the unexpected. I never knew what was going to happen next.

After the sworn statement I kept in constant contact with Cruz Little by phone. Usually I would call him in the evening after some incident had happened at work which had ininfuriated me. I had told him only a portion of what I knew in the sworn statement and each time I called him I told him a little more in an attempt to raise his interest. However it seemed no matter how damaging the information was toward Gamma Supplies, Cruz Little seemed uninterested and unimpressed. At first I attributed this to the fact that Judge Myron Gordon's ruling which had the trial in limbo, had negated my testimony. But I was convinced that the judge's ruling was ridiculous and would be overturned by the Appeals Court and my testimony would be important. For some reason which I did not understand at that time, Cruz Little did not share my enthusiasm.

At one point I told him how Jordan kept the “Rapid Set” price artificially low so the profit margin would not be too great. This created the illusion that Delta Oil could not afford the licensing agreement that Better Supplies was offering. This was a critical point in the argumentthat the patents were monopolistic. Bruce Tittle was unimpressed with the information.

Anita said very little about what was going on and remained distant from the problem. I thought this was best for her own safety and I felt it was my battle and I didn't want to involve any more people that necessary. Her major immediate concern was about my physical health and she was still constantly concerned about my well-being.

My physical condition had seemed to stabilize, but my overall health still was not good. As long as I kept taking the antibiotics, my condition did not worsen. At least my health was good enough to permit me to drive back to Scranton, Pennsylvania.

On March 10, 1978 I formally resigned from Costeal. I gave my deteriorating health and other “personal” problems as the reason for leaving. While I was discussing my reasons leaving my boss, who was sitting there with his immediate supervisor, interrupted me and in a laughing sarcastic tone said, “Well, I hope it's not serious”. My appearance and the difficulty I had in speaking was enough to tell him it was serious and since he probably already knew about my physical condition, I took his remark to be malicious in nature.

It is interesting to note, that while I struggled while I was in Louisville, people seemed to go out of their way to treat my wife well. The Realtor that was showing us housing, took Anita skiing, and helped her find a sales job at a local clothing store. Of course Anita spent her weekly check buying clothes for herself. And if we did anything where Costeal people were present, they were overly friendly and helpful to her. The contrast in treatment from how I was treated to how Costeal was being treated baffled me.

POWER/STUPIDITY/INSANITY
After my resignation at Costeal, Anita and I drove back to Pennsylvania. We arrived
at my parents house on Saturday March 11, and the night there. The next day we
immediately left for the American Chemical Society meeting in Anaheim, California. The flight was comfortable and I got some much needed rest, but my health still was not very good. I was beginning to wonder about the wisdom of searching for another job right away and as I sat on the plane, I thought more and more about using the trip for a vacation. The reason I had decided to take Anita with me was because I thought she could use a break and a little vacation would do her good too.

The weather in Anaheim was excellent and unseasonably warm. I attended the ACS
meeting and related my tale to several friends I met there while Anita enjoyed the sun at the beach. Interestingly, I didn't get any funny talk from my friends and while they all expressed sympathy, none of the could offer and real solution to my problem. And most important was that none of them questioned what had happened to me.

I also attended the Employment Clearing House and had several interviews with
prospective employers. I did not try to hide anything and tried to relate my experience as best I could in a half hour interview. One sympathetic interviewer suggested I write to the Professional Relations Staff at the American Chemical Society. I thanked him for his help.

The interviews were hard on my throat because they usually required about twenty minutes of talking. It seemed like I was on a steady diet of throat lozenges and antibiotics.

I found it interesting that no one doubted what I told them. That meant that Darth Korey was absolutely wrong that no one would believe me and I already knew I could prove what I was saying. On reflection, that meant Darth Korey was TOTALLY out of touch with reality. That is INSANITY! Psychopathic behavior at one time was called “moral insanity” and my experience at the ACS meeting made me realize that was definitely dealing with dangerously insane captors.

People frequently would ask "why would they do that"? And the answer is because they could! There was nothing to stop these people from government/big business. And ultimately that is what POWER is. Power is the ability to be as STUPID, as INSANE as you want to be. If a person without power does something stupid or insane, they will have to face the consequences eventually. If you have power, that is not true. In fact, when someone with power does something stupid, other people pay the consequences. And you see people everyday in politics and business do really stupid and insane things and you ask yourselves, "why did they do that"? The answer is because they have power.

Fascist Slave State
I'm going to repeat part of what I publisheed before, because it is the essence of how the american fascist state destroys countless lives. In the american fascist slave system, life has no value. Only money has value so destroying lives to increase corporate profit is as american as baseball, hot dogs and apple pie.

I said, “Why do people do things like this? It is so senseless and costly.”

“Let me tell you something,” he replied. “ I have clients who take action against other people, and I advise them that it's not in their best interest. It is not good for their health, it is not good for their business, but they insist on going through with it. These people just aren't happy unless they are making someone else's life miserable.”

I knew what he was saying was true because my attorney in Wisconsin had told me
the same thing in different words.

“BUT WHAT CAN I DO? THEY WILL DESTROY ME! THEY ARE CREATING A LIE(MENTAL ILLNESS) AT MY EXPENSE AND THEY ARE GOING TO LIVE AND DIE BY THAT LIE”.“I don't know what to tell you”, Leonard replied. “The best I can do is offer you a couple of my Valium.”

I thanked him but said “no”.

On with the story:

At the end of each day, I would go back to the motel and collapse. I felt guilty about not being able to spend more time with Anita, and after two days of interviews, I decided to take the vacation I needed. The next two days we spent visiting Disneyland, San Diego and Mexico.

It was in San Diego that an incident occurred that should have tipped me off to how serious my problems were. I was driving in downtown San Diego on a clear, bright
sunny day at about two in the afternoon. Traffic was moderate and there were no traffic problems. When all of a sudden, someone hits my rental car from behind! I got out of the car and exchanged information with a middle aged man neatly dressed in a dark suit. He couldn't offer me any reason as to why he had hit me and after agreeing that the damage to my rental car was minor, we went on our way. Ordinarily this wouldn't have been much of a problem except I was about 3,000 mile from “home”, and the car was a rental. As I drove off, I kept wondering how he could have hit me under such ideal driving conditions(remember this was BEFORE cell phones and Ipods).

Many years later I read John Marks' book on the CIA and mind control. In there he points out that American government gestapo type agents will deliberately cause minor traffic accidents in order to keep their victims stressed. One CIA agent related that running into the back of the victim's car is a common technique that they use to harass the person. Thus, from what happened that day, and from the dark blue suit the man was wearing, it is very possible that my “accident” was caused by a government gestapo agent in order to cause me more stress. And it definitely did cause me stress.

I did get to spend some time at the beach in the sun and that seemed to arrest my again deteriorating health. At the end of the week we left Anaheim with little accomplished and I was feeling tired.

The first day when we arrived back at my parents place I was feeling tired and feverish. That afternoon I decided I should see a doctor again. I made an appointment for two days hence and then went to bed for some much needed rest. I slept for almost two days and was too weak to get out of bed. Because I was so weak, I called the doctor who knew me and he prescribed some new, more powerful antibiotics over the phone and then made a new appointment to see me a few days latter. When I finally got enough strength to get out of bed, I could barely walk and Anita had to help me down the stairs.

For the next two months I fought the throat and viral infections with little success. The doctor could do little more that give me antibiotics and vitamin shots and tell me to get plenty of rest. Then after the throat infection had seemed to clear up, I developed bronchitis. With all of the stress and anxiety,, my body had lost its ability to defend itself from disease. As the doctor put it, "the virus seems like it has attacked your entire body."

2009-06-19T12:32:00.000-07:00

Last night I watched an hour long special on Bernie Madoff. Several of the interviewed people used the word "sociopath" to describe Madoff. However, if you read the description I gave below, maybe the correct term would be psychopath. He was very organized, charming and had a very normal looking life for a wealthy person. He also had no concern for his victims. The unusual thing about Bernie Madoff is that his victims were wealthy people who were duped. This is part of the reason his actions are so news worthy. If the victims had been poor working people, the news media would probably have ignored the story.

However, as in my dealings with psychopaths, Bernie Madoff left a lot of damaged lives behind.

BACK TO MY STORY
I went back to my office and called Dan Gane. I had always considered Don to
be one of the more reasonable, rational people I had met while I was at Gamma Supplies and I was hoping he might be able to have reason prevail. I explained in my excited state the offer I had made to Gamma Supplies and the stated reason for their rejection. I toldhim I was interested in peacefully settling this matter, and I would go on my way and Gamma Supplies would not have to worry about me in the future. Dan said he would convey my message, but he didn't think it would do any good.

By now my emotions were running out of control. I was furious that “they” had
rejected my offer and preferred war, and at the same time I was scared because I
knew “they” could not just leave me alone. In rejecting my offer for the consulting
contract, “they” were declaring all out war, and at the same time they had totally
eliminated any attempt to go the Tenneland. I left work hurriedly and went
home to talk to Anita.

I had been keeping Anita informed of what was going on at Gamma Supplies, but she very little help in terms of advice on what to do. My emotions were so out of control that I would shout at her instead of rationally discussing the issues. As I talked to her the one thing that became clear was that she didn't want me to take the Tenneland job. It was also evident that my fear was becoming contagious and
she was beginning to react to situations in a scared manner. Soon I was trying to
calm her and trying to alleviate her fear that “they” might try to block the sale of the house. When I saw how frightened she was becoming, I decided to try to keep things more to myself. That was particularly difficult because of the hyper state that I was in.

PHONE TERRORISM

That evening I called Paul Jones and informed him that I thought it best that I didn't accept the Tenneland offer. He said he was sorry to hear that and then hung up. Immediately upon hanging up, the phone rang. I answered and there was just a dial tone. I hung up. About thirty seconds later the phone rang again. I answered again and again there was just a dial tone. I hung up and turned to Anita and said, “It is just like at work. It's them”.

Just then the phone rang again so I motioned to Anita to answer it. She slowly picked up the phone and got the same response that I had gotten – a dial tone. She just looked at me with a terrified look on her face and hung up the phone. From that point on, I became terrified of the telephone.

With my rejection of the Tenneland offer and Gammma Supplies' rejection of the consulting contract, I considered myself at war with whomever had set me up as a witness in the law-suit. I spent time at home documenting as much as possible what had happened during the previous seventeen months at Gamma Supplies, and I spent most of my time at work getting ready to leave. I had handed in my letter of resignation in the first week of December and my last day of work was to be December 14, 1977. I dreaded each and every day of those two weeks because Gamma Supplies' plan seemed to be to create as much anger, anxiety, paranoia and fear as possible. Every action done by people at Gamma Supplies was designed to keep my emotions running out of control.

Almost daily, Darth or someone else would do something to make me angry. The
actions ranged from minor comments made by Jay and Carl concerning my status at Gamma Supplies to more serious actions like those of Jeff Teller. Jeff had been out of work for a couple of days with a virus and when he came back to work he said the doctor had told him a serious illness had been going around that affected the throat and respiratory system and that it was important to get antibiotics immediately to prevent serious complications. I told him good luck and to be sure to stay far away from me because I didn't need to get sick.

The next day Jeff came into my office and started coughing. I asked him to leave, but he just stood there and coughed more in my direction. I was furious and yelled at him to get out of my office, but he ignored me. I didn't know what to do. I felt like hitting him, but since I couldn't do that, I pushed my way past him and rushed out of my office. Jeff followed in close pursuit, coughing all the time! Finally, I lost him but the situation was absurd beyond description. Here was an ill man deliberately coughing on me apparently in the hope that I would catch the virus. With the extreme stress I was under, catching such a virus could have serious consequences.

With all of the other excitement going on, I had forgotten to notify Costeal that I would accept their offer. I was not really looking forward to working at Costeal, but the job helped solve two major problems. First, Costeal would move my belongings by the end of the month. That meant I could close on the sale of the house by the end of December. Second, Costeal was located in Louisville, the home of the Better Supplies' attorneys. That meant I would be near someone I thought I could count on being an ally against whoever was behind the Gamma Supplies' scheme. The sooner I got a statement in writing, the sooner I would feel better. I made a call to Cruz Little, but he refused my call since I was still a Gamma Supplies employee. Idecided I would contact him after I left Delta Oil and was living in Louisville.

I was also looking for anyone associated with Delta Oil who would support me and my
story in the future. George Hammond seemed like the best candidate. George had been Vice President of Sales at Gamma Supplies and been give the G. T. Cline award for outstanding service the previous February. Then under the direction of Darth, George had been driven from the company in the fall. I thought if anyone was bitter about their treatment at Gamma Supplies, it would be George.

I left work early one afternoon in order to call George from my home. Mrs. Hammond answered the phone and I asked to speak to George. She informed me that he was visiting his brother and would not be back until Christmas. By then I would have have left the area which would make it very difficult to get together with him. I still had not identified myself to Mrs. Hammond, but I continued to ask more and more probing questions which she answered with candor.

Finally I said. “Look, my name is ***** ***** and I worked with your husband at Gamma Supplies. You don't know me , but it is important that I talk to your husband.”

Mrs. Hammond calmly replied, “Oh, I knew who this was.”

When I asked how she knew me, she just ignored me. I don't know how she knew me or how she knew it was me on the phone since I had never met her, but it seemed as if she had been expecting my phone call. At that point I decided it would not do any good to talk to George, so I thanked Mrs. Hammond for her time and hung up. This would not be the last time someone knew of me before I ever met and/or talked to them.

The last few days at work were spent getting my personal item from the office. A computer print-out catalog of all of the Gamma Supplies formulas which I kept in my office disappeared, but that didn't bother me since I had another copy at home. One evening I was going over a list of things with Anita that needed to be done before I left Gamma Supplies. I told her there were two things that I really wanted to take with me from my Gamma Supplies office, but I didn't know if I could get them out before I left. One item was an antique rider-beam balance that was no longer used and was in the office closet. The other item was a set of books on chemistry which I felt I could use in the future. I told her that I would try to get the items the next day.

The next morning I was sitting in my office when Darth walked in. He didn't even look at me. Instead he walked right over to my closet and stared at the rider-beam balance sitting on the upper shelf as if he were checking to make sure it was still there. After peering in the closet for thirty seconds, Darth finally faced me, looked at my books and then knelt down at my bookcase and started going through my books.

Finally I said. “Can I help you with something?”

“I just looking for the book on urethanes.” He said.

I reached down, picked out the book and handed it to him. He flipped through it and thengot up and walked out of the office with the book. It was the only time in the year and a half that I had been at Gamma Supplies that Darth had asked me for a book. The coincidence was too much and his actions had been exaggerated. The implication was obvious.“They” knew what I was planning to do and “they” were creating anxiety and fear by letting me know through the use of suggestion. The actions seemed so absurd, and I kept wondering why things were being done in such a manner.

That evening I was using Anita as a sounding board and thinking out loud.

I said, “OK, they set me up as a witness, got my testimony and then dumped me. But that is stupid because I can always come back and testify against them if the Judge's ruling doesn't hold up and the case goes back to trial. Unless they plan to kill me.”

Then I realized that there was a second possibility. “They are going to say I'm insane; that I don't know what I'm talking about! That's what Darth meant when he said no one will ever believe me. That is why all the effort is being made to create fear and anxiety. That is stupid! I have documents to support what I say. But then this whole thing has been stupid.”

There is an old saying which goes “What is the difference between ignorance
and arrogance?” The answer is “I don't know” and “I don't care”. In the following years I debated with myself about whether my captors were just stupid or insanely arrogant.

Anita sat there with a blank look on her face and said nothing. The pieces all fit into place. I had been set up as a witness. They had my sworn testimony in my deposition and the cover-up on how my testimony was obtained was to say I was crazy. It all seemed so neat except for one minor technical difficulty. I had not signed my deposition and I had not given the power of attorney to anyone. That meant my testimony was of questionable value as it was. Since Gamma Supplies had signed my name to other documents without my knowledge, it was important that I make it know to Cruz Little as soon as possible that I had not signed my deposition. It was important that I get everything in writing while I still could remember details. After all, part of their plan was that I would not be able to remember facts and details about what had been done. And of course, as Darth said “they” wanted war! And this was war.

I did not want war. No sane person wants to take on what I thought were corporations over anything. There is no way an individual can win that war. In the Karen Silkwood case, she lost her life and it took fifteen years before her heirs won a lawsuit in which the compensation was so small that the attorneys said that it wasn't worth the effort. And in the battle with the tobacco industry, tobacco executive Jeffrey Wigand lost his wife, family, health and retirement compensation. The American system is designed to make sure corporations do not lose. And I was smart enough to know that and I did not want war with big corporations. I also didn't know at this point that big corporations ultimately were not the real source of my problems. Things were actually worse than I realized!

Chapter III

The voice of the intellect is a soft one, but it does not rest until it has gained a hearing. Ultimately, after endlessly repeated rebuffs, it succeeds. This is one of the few points in which one may be optimistic about the future of mankind, but in itself it signifies not a little. Sigmund Freud

The week before Christmas, the movers picked up our furniture and took it to Louisville. We made arrangements with our attorney to close on the house on December 27, and gave him the power of attorney in our absence. Anita and I then began our trek to Scranton, Pennsylvania to spend the holidays with my parents. I was scheduled to begin work at Costeal on January 9. I could use the two weeks of rest, but I really needed longer. But since I wanted to get something in writing before I forgot the details, I wanted to get to Louisville and start work as soon as possible.

The weather for the trip to Scranton was atrocious and we had to stop in Indiana the first night because of icy roads. There was a strong wind and near blizzard conditions which made driving impossible.

The next day we continued our trip and stopped in Louisville for a brief visit at Costeal. I took the opportunity there to call Cruz Little again since I was now no longer a Gamma Supplies employee. Mr. Little was not in so I left a number with the secretary where I could be reached in Scranton.

We arrived in Scranton late on December 23rd. We had not even given Christmas
gifts a thought since things had been so hectic. That evening Anita and I sat down and made a shopping list for the next day. Early in the morning, we began a full day of Christmas shopping for my relatives and Anita's family.

The festivities of the holidays helped take my mind off Gamma Supplies. Still, now that I was in a non-hostile environment I was surprised at how much anger and anxiety I had. Some nights I would wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. It was becoming obvious to me that my experience at Gamma Supplies had taken a greater toll on me that I had initially realized.

Christmas day was pleasant, but my mind just was not on what was going on around me. Despite the gift giving and festive mood, there was always that underlying feeling that things were not good. Also, during that Christmas I could sense that my parents were concerned about my well-being.

Christmas day was pleasant, but my mind just was not on what was going on around me.
Despite the gift giving and festive mood, there was always that underlying feeling that things were not good. Also, at the Christmas I could sense that my parents were concerned about my well-being.

The following day in the afternoon of December 26th I received a call from Cruz Little. I informed him that I had some information relevant to the ongoing litigation between Gamma Supplies and Better Supplies and that I would like to speak to him in some detail concerning that information. He said he was interested but was not sure what was the best route to take. I said I would think about it and would get back in touch with him.

Since I needed some legal advise, I contacted an old high school friend who was now a practicing attorney in Scranton and sought his advise. We talked business over dinner with our wives present. My friend Chet told me the best thing to do was to make a formal statement and to have my attorney present. Then Chet, whom I consider a good friend, gave me some advise.

“Russ, you know revenge can be costly.”

I replied, “You don't understand Chet. Maybe part of this is revenge, but they won't leave me alone. To them I'm a RUNAWAY SLAVE and they won't be happy until I'm not any kind of threat to them.”

I left that evening feeling for once that I had received sound advise and that I knew the best course of action to take.

I spent the first week in January organizing documents concerning Gamma Supplies and preparing for my new job at Costeal. Unexpectedly on Wednesday, January 4, I got a phone call from Dan Gane. My mother answered the phone and at first I was reluctant to take the call, but then in a moment of optimism I decided to talk to Dan. He said Darth had asked him to call me and tell me Arnold Cline and Darth wanted me to come back to Gamma Supplies and that Darth wanted to come to Scratnon to talk to me. I didn't know what to say, but I assumed Dan called because they knew I would not talk to Darth. I had not told anyone at Gamma Supplies about the Costeal job, but I was sure they knew. I asked Dan for some details. He said Darth would fly into the local airport and then drive to to meet me. Since I was still confused as to why Darth would come to Scranton, I continued and went along with the plan. “You know the only reason Darth wants to talk to me is because I'm a threat to them”.

Dan totally ignored my comment and then continued by saying “Darth wanted to fly in on Monday, January 9th”! Suddenly I knew the real purpose of the call. “They” were still harassing me. “They” knew I was to begin work in Louisville on that date and they were creating an impossible “no-win” situation. I decided to call their bluff. I said Monday would be fine and that I would be waiting on Monday to talk to Darth about returning to work at Gamma Supplies. That concluded the conversation.

Of course, Darth Korey nor anyone else from Gamma Supplies ever showed up at my parents house to talk to me on that Monday or on any other date, but the conversation did serve the purpose of letting me know that my every move was being monitored.

I started work at Costeal with great apprehension. Not only was I afraid of more harassment and terrorism would occur there, but I also had caught the same virus that had caused Jeff Teller to be so ill. At least the symptoms were the same as the ones that he had described. I was not feeling well when I began work on the first day, but I couldn't call in sick. Since I did not know anyone in the area I had no easy way to find a good doctor. Since in the past I had always been able to fight off illnesses quickly, I decided to let the illness run its course.

My worst fears were realized at Costeal when the strange events involving the workers there began to happen. I was beginning to understand what Darth meant when he said no one would believe me. I was now in a fight to preserve my veracity and my sanity. I started keeping a daily diary in which I documented events and the people involved. A rational person would have a hard time explaining the events that I was describing in the diary unless they accepted the fact that peoples actions were being orchestrated to make me sound and look paranoid and schizophrenic.

One incident which involved almost all of the personnel at Costeal technical center occurred in late January. There had been a severe ice storm in the area and most roads were virtually impassable. As a result, I was about twenty minutes late arriving at work. When I walked in the door, all the lights were off and no one was present. I walk into the coat room to hang up my coat and found about a dozen coats hanging on the hooks and I recognized the coat of my boss. Yet, when I walked into the office area, no one including my boss, was there and there were no lights on. I walked back to the lunch room and an adjoining room and they were empty and dark. Finally, I walked into a small laboratory and there I found three workers standing there.

“Where is everyone”? I inquired.

“I guess they are late because of the storm,” was the reply. I was suspicious. Something was going on. I counted at least a dozen coats and yet I could only find three people. I exchanged pleasantries and then left and walked back out to the main office. The scene I saw left me stunned. All the lights were on and everyone was busy working as though they had been there all along! I just couldn't believe someone had gone to all that effort to shock my nervous system and to make me look crazy. It remind me of something out of a grade B horror movie. It was like the scene where the rich old aunt walks into a room and finds a body hanging from the ceiling. She runs out to find help and when she returns, the body is gone! She must be crazy. Whatever the purpose was for the orchestrated event, the
result was an increase in my anxiety and an increase in the flow of adrenaline.

Events like that became a daily occurrence at Costeal as did the continuing harassing phone calls. The incidences would always involve a couple or almost all of the workers there. On one occasion I went into the lunch room and found several men eating, but no women were present.

“Where are the girls today?” I asked.

“They all went out for lunch today.” One of the workers replied. No one else said anything else.

I sat down and started to eat lunch when another male worker came in and asked the same question I had asked. This time the same worker responded, but I noticed his response was loud, deliberate and seemed artificial. I thought no more of it and continued to eat my lunch. A few minutes later, I got up to get something from my desk in the office area. When I returned to the lunch room a minute later, there sitting at the tables were all of the office girls eating lunch. No one said anything and by now I didn't question such actions. I had been conditioned at Gamma Supplies that when I questioned such things I was either given a ridiculous rational or I was ignored.

These events were meant to create fear, anxiety, worry and paranoia. I was slowly beginning to loose my ability to rationally analyze a situation and my mind was beginning to conjure up all sorts of irrational scenarios. The absured orchestrated actions created stress and triggered my defense mechanisms which meant the actions generated the flow of adrenaline.

As an added note, I called the company Costeal here because this company produced nothing original. They merely copied successful existing products and then copied them and sold the product through a large retail outlet like Sears. My orginal assignment there was to retroengineer an adhesive on a press and stick shelf paper.
Once the adhsive was copied, Costeal could then produce an identical product and sell it through some retail chain. Costeal had no direct sales to the customer through their own stores or outlets.

One incident which was meant to raise fear and anxiety involved the taking of my
picture. One day two workers were talking about a light meter they were holding when they walked over to a couple of feet of me sitting at my desk. They pointed the meter in my direction, made a couple of remarks about the meter reading and then walked off. Later that day I was sitting at my desk working when I happened to look up. There across the room, standing at about the same place the two workers had been with the light meter, was one of the workers pointing a 35 mm camera at me. I quickly put my hand in front of my face and got up and walked away.

The next day there was a birthday party at lunch for one of the employees and a similar type of incident involving picture taking occurred. My first reaction was fear and the thought that “they” wanted a picture of me. If I had thought about it, “they” had all my photo albums in storage plus, they could have taken my picture many times before without my knowledge. But the visibility of the incidences was meant to raise my defense mechanisms and make the adrenalin flow without actually physically or verbally threatening me.

In addition to all of the psychological stress I was under, my physical health was rapidly failing. I was running a fever and my throat was constantly sore. In addition to my sore throat, my throat felt constricted and I was having difficulty swallowing. My condition continued to worsen until one day I back to the motel from work, laid down and started to experience severe chills and fever. At that point I knew I had to see a doctor.

Since I did not know anyone in the Louisville area, I had to find a doctor through the people at work. The next day a coworker recommended a doctor whom I called immediately for an appointment. The following day I saw the doctor who diagnosed me with a severe throat infection. He prescribed some antibiotics and told me to come back in two weeks. I felt my illness was a lot more serious that the doctor indicated, but I accepted his judgment that the antibiotics would clear up the infection.

I took the medication, but for some insane reason I continued to go to work everyday. I tried to get as much rest as possible, but getting rest at the motel suddenly became difficult. First, the temperature in the motel room became noticeably colder. It was the middle of January and we had no heat in our room. My wife complained to the motel manager, but it did not do any good. On one occasion I decided to go to bed early but the blaring of a radio kept me awake. After trying unsuccessfully to locate the radio, we called the front office and the manager admitted that he had “accidentally” left the radio on in the laundry room. He said he would turn it off. An hour later and two phone calls later the radio was still blasting away. Out of complete frustration, I got out of bed, got dressed and went looking for the laundry room. I finally found the radio in an empty laundry room blaring at full volume. I turned it off and returned to bed wondering if the whole incident hadn't been planned to deny me precious sleep. I finally got to sleep around 1:00 AM!

My physical condition continued to deteriorate and now my throat was visibly swollen to the point that I could hardly eat anything. Finally I returned to see the doctor. This time the doctor expressed serious concern and decided I should take a different, more powerful antibiotic. He also made an appointment for me to see a throat specialist, but that appointment was not for another two weeks.

By the time I saw the throat specialist, the infection was “under control”, but he warned me that if I didn't get some rest, the problem would probably reoccur. With that diagnosis, I decided I had to leave Clopay and get my physical health back.

The people at Closteal seemed to be aware of the fact that I did not intend to stay there very long. I did not try to keep my plans a secret and used the company phones to talk to employment agencies.

The closer I came to leaving, the more direct the threats became. At one point during dinner on a business trip to Chicago with another Closteal employee, the subject turned to how companies treated employees. The discussion became quite heated. The co-worker finally turned to me and said, “Trust us or you will trust no one. You will stand alone.”

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. How could he make a threat like that? “I still have friends and I will trust them and not you or big business.” After my comment, neither of us said much the rest of the evening.

Now that the extreme right wing element is no longer in office in Washington, people are now beginning to discuss the use of torture by the american government. The only reason the average american knows about torture now is because 1) the use became widespread and with rendition, international, 2) technology such as the internet makes it harder to keep it hidden and 3) it involved non-american victims so foreign media picked up on it. The truth is, torture of american citizens has been going on for at least 50 years. There are even several documented cases of it. For the most part, the victims of american government/industry torture are individuals whom the media ignores. Thus it is kept hidden from the american public. In america, no publicity means no torture! That is not true, but that is what the public believes.

Back to my story:

I was becoming suspicious of everyone. I was making plans to attend the American
Chemical Society meeting in Anaheim, CA and I was not trying to be very secretive about it. If “they” were going to flaunt the fact that they knew everything I did, why try to hide anything. I was also interacting with one employment agency and their representative said they had an opening in Los Angeles. I told the rep. That I was going out there in a few weeks and maybe I could talk to the company while I was out there. She said she would check and get back to me. She never did call me back, and I became suspicious and carefully wrote it in my diary. The job opening in Los Angeles coming to my attention exactly when I was planning to go there seemed like too much of a coincidence to me. I wonder if someone could have put her up to it.

The longer I was at Costeal, the more it seemed that my real purpose in Louisville was to make a sworn statement for the Better Supplies' attorneys. I kept calling Cruz Little and told him of the events at Costeal and how important it was that I get something in writing. He seemed to be dragging his feet, but finally we agreed that I could make a sworn statement on Wednesday, February 15, 1978in his office building. I had hired Mr. Leonard G. Smart to act as my attorney, at Cruz Little's recommendation and per my friend Chet's instructions. I arrived at Cruz Little's law firm office in an anxious state and I had trouble speaking because of my reoccurring throat problems. I had tried to keep this appointment secret for my own safety, but a couple of days prior to the sworn statement Cruz Little called me at work to remind me of the date. His blatant disregard for my safety annoyed me.