GLOBAL EDUCATION 2000
My programmed role toward implementing Education 2000 according to the plans of those ushering in the New World Order brought me back in contact with former Governor of Tennessee, Lamar Alexander, and eventually Canadian Prime Minister Brian Mulroney. I had met Lamar Alexander in 1973, at a satanic ritual I was subjected to in an affluent neighborhood of Nashville, Tennessee.
During the course of publicly exposing Tennessee’s need for education reform as instructed, I was in contact with Commissioners, Superintendents, Mayors, and Lamar Alexander. Lamar Alexander, who followed Bennett as Bush’s Secretary of Education, worked in close association with Bill Bennett to manipulate the minds of the masses to accept Education 2000 as the ONLY means of education reform.
As the 1984 Governor’s Convention drew near, I met with Lamar Alexander at the Stockyard nightclub where he was drinking with his long time associate and partner-in-crime, Nashville’s Mayor Richard Fulton. In the basement bar of this old, converted stockyard was a modified antique "Shoe Shine" booth, where the term took on new meaning. A key to a private shoeshine booth could be obtained by those in the know through Stockyard owner, Buddy Killen.
On this occasion, Alexander apparently exceeded the maximum. I do not recall completion of my programmed task. It was after hours when my mind- control handler, Alex Houston, dragged my limp body from the booth, roused me, and ordered me out of the building. Buddy Killen opened a back door that once was a cattle run, and Houston half-dragged me out the back exit unseen.
The night of the Convention, Alex Houston’s youngest daughter, Bonnie, 2 was to join me. Bonnie and E were close to the same age, and together we dressed for the occasion. As a prostitute, Bonnie was familiar with Lamar Alexander and his perversions but nevertheless was excited at the prospect of seeing "old friends" at the Convention via Louise Mandrell, 3 who would be entertaining there. The camaraderie between Alex Houston and Mandrell that developed during Bob Hope’s U.S.O. tours in the 1960s lasted for decades due to their shared involvement in running mind-controlled slaves for Byrd.
Bonnie shared in this friendship with the Mandrells and was looking forward to seeing her "friends" in the band.
I, too, was looking forward to talking with Louise Mandrell, but for a very different reason. Barbara had just endured her near-fatal car crash, and I was deeply concerned for her welfare. Throughout the 1980s while traveling under the guise of the Country Music Industry, Alex Houston toured with Barbara and/or Louise Mandrell on a regular basis. Occasionally Barbara and I saw each other in "church," the Hendersonville Lord’s Chapel.
Alex Houston was touring with Louise Mandrel] in 1984 when Louise had a "premonition" of Barbara’s imminent demise ~ much the same way Loretta Lynn "psychically predicted" her son’s murder. Like the murders of Loretta’s son and Country Music entertainer Keith Whitley, I was aware of Barbara’s planned accident before it occurred due to Alex Houston’s direct involvement.
When Bonnie and I arrived at Opryland Hotel, we hurried to the ballroom where Louise Mandrell would be performing. My concern for Barbara detracted me from my appointment with Lamar Alexander until one of Louise’s dancers who knew of my role put me "back on track".
"What are you doing here?" he demanded. "You’re supposed to be at Rhett Butler’s restaurant NOW."
"Where have you been?"
"I was checking on Barbara over at the show," I replied as Lamar Alexander excused himself and walked over.
Putting an arm around me and turning me away from the table, he whispered, "You could wind up just like her if you don’t get with the program. You’ve got programs to hand out. But right now, you’re interrupting my dinner. Have you had anything to drink?".
"No, Sir," I replied, traumatized at the magnitude of his threat.
After the drug kicked in, Lloyd Lindroth instructed me to proceed to the main ballroom of the Hotel, where Lamar Alexander would be meeting me.
The outer lobby of the ballroom was decorated in wall-size murals that extended to the top of the gothic ceiling. A life-size steam engine depicted on the far wall appeared to be racing toward the grand staircase. I had seen the murals numerous times before, but never had they seemed so real as they did to me that night on the NASA drug. The heavy double doors leading to the ballroom caused me to feel very small as I pulled with all my strength to open it. Inside, the room was a sea of black suits and ties, and I was relieved when Lamar Alexander ushered me back out into the lobby.
Alexander positioned me near the train mural as a cryptic indicator to those in the know that I was a "trained" mind-controlled slave. I was provided a box of brown envelopes packed with the Education 2000 information I was to hand out to the governors.
"Are you waiting on the train?" a paunchy governor asked, "No, Sir," I answered. Then, as instructed, I said, "But I do have a packet of information with your name on it. Shall 1 take it to your room for you?"
"Oh? And what is my name?" he asked.
"Governor," I responded. There actually were no names on the envelopes.
"Astute," he responded. "And what is it you have for me?"
"This packet," I answered, handing it to him. "And anything else you want compliments of Lamar Alexander and (tapped) Secretary of Education, Bill Bennett."
According to some of the men, Alexander had cued them as to my position. Others, such as then Governor of Pennsylvania, Dick Thornburgh and Ohio Governor Dick Celeste already knew me, "I’ve got a packet of information with your name on it.. "I was saying as I bent over to lift one from the box.
"I don’t think so," Governor Blanchard of Michigan interrupted. "Bill (Bennett) wouldn’t stoop so low as to insult me that way. I’m doing the same thing here you are, but from a very different approach. The figures I offer reflect the success of Education 2000 in the Michigan school system."
"Speaking of which," he continued, "I believe I see your mother more often than you do these days since she is working in the schools. That little sister of yours (Kimmy) is a prime example of what proper instruction can produce. Your little sister is coming to Mackinac to further her skills. Your whole family is a prime example of how good Education 2000 works."
"Great!" Bonnie laughed. "How’s yours?"
"Constricted," he replied.
Lamar Alexander began removing his pants. Referring to me in Project Monarch terms he said,
"When I first saw you, you were a worm with no hint of being a butterfly."
"Daddy (Alex Houston) said she was a diamond in the rough," Bonnie volunteered, "She shines now". Turning to me he said, "I know you are a shoe shiner, and mine need a shine." Bonnie, also familiar with the Stockyard booth and Lamar Alexander’s meaning, laughed when he said, "Why don’t you both take a foot."
Task complete, I went to Byrd’s nearby room as instructed. He was in the bathroom preparing himself for bed, "Louise had her feathers fluffed over Barbara’s collision with destiny and I had to smooth them down a bit," Drying his dough grey hands on a towel, he turned to me and said, "Looks like you’ve had your wings spread a bit tonight."
"I wore a path up and down the stairs," I stated.
Much to my relief he said, "I’m not going to fiddle with you farther. I just wanted to give you something to remember me by ~ Bye."
Soon thereafter, Kelly and I were transported to Mackinac Island. Michigan to meet with Canadian Prime Minister Brian Mulroney at then-Governor James Blanchard’s mansion.
Houston led Kelly and me to a horse drawn carriage as quickly as we stepped off the ferryboat onto the timeless, antiquated island, I noticed that the Canadian flags were again flying at the Grand Hotel, but was of no mind to question, Kelly sat quietly beside me, apparently drugged as our carriage took us through the woods to the Governor’s mansion.
The guests in the mansion were reminiscent of the recent Tennessee Governor’s convention: Michigan Governor Blanchard, Ohio Governor Dick Celeste, and Pennsylvania Governor Dick Thornburgh. Guy VanderJagt and Jerry Ford were also present. Mulroney appeared to be the guest of "honor".
He reached out his hands and greeted me,
"I told you I would see you somewhere in time! I slipped time, space, and distance to be here this evening. You and I have some ground to cover."
"Yes, Sir. President Reagan’s Global Education Secretary Bill Bennett has sent me to deliver this education packet directly to you." I was to deliver a large, brown envelope of documents similar to those handed out at the Governor’s Convention.
Blanchard excused himself. "I’ve already heard the schpiel," he said as he turned to his other guests, leaving Mulroney and me alone,
"Global Education is the wave of the future," I recited as programmed. As the world gets smaller and smaller due to higher technology spanning the globe, our children must be educated in the ways of the world. Education as it is, barely equips them for life in their own backyard. We need to become involved in our children’s education for the sake of their future and our legacy. Global education is the way. The only way, Look into it..." I handed him the envelope. "...Peer into the future."
"I am interested in the children, the legacy we leave them, and how we shape their future by the way we record our history in their test." Using Order of the Rose cues, he signaled me to photographically record his words for future delivery.
"Tell Mr. Bennett(sss)," he hissed, cryptically revealing his knowledge that Bill and Bob Bennett worked together using reptilian-alien themes, "implementation is high. I’m already sold on Global 2000 and have additional points I would like for them to consider. Headsets at every computer station for openers. Double the impact with dual learning. We’re being thrust forward at warp speed, and the generations of the future may need an added booster to bring them up to speed. A united global effort using your education package as a basis is destined to bring the future into a clear and present reality."
1 I have witnessed girls die of suffocation from this practice oven though 3 to 5 minutes without breathing is common.
2 While Bonnie was not raised in Project Monarch, Houston’s pedophilia and stage hypnosis techniques rendered Bonnie unable to control her own actions. Bonnie is a multiple with a record of prostitution in need of therapy and care.
4 Friendships between mind-controlled slaves are usually forbidden, and conversations are kept to a minimum lest cross-programming triggering occurs. Throughout the years, my own relationship with the Mandrells was limited to a superficial basis, whereas Irby Mandrell employed Houston’s hypnotic abilities to maintain mind control over his daughters while touring.
U.S. and Mexican relations were flourishing in the successes of NAFTA’s groundwork, while political differences pertaining to Nicaragua remained a minor point of contention. Since the Catholic Vatican’s Intelligence arm of Jesuits were working closely with U.S. Intelligence to usher in the New World Order, they used their established influence in Mexico and Nicaragua to provide a common ground for "diplomatic relations".
Were President Reagan’s Nicaraguan Freedom Fighters fighters OF freedom or FOR freedom? My mind-controlled existence rendered me incapable of pondering such questions. Nevertheless, I had a programmed "passion burning in my bosom" for the Contras as was patriotically instilled through torture, when I embarked on my "peacekeeping mission" to Nicaragua for Reagan tale in the summer of 1985,
I boarded NCL as usual to reach my appointed destination. Since Nicaragua was not a port of call for NCL, I flew from the Yucatan of Mexico to a remote military airstrip in Managua. It was in this small mountain top clearing that I met with Commandant Daniel Ortega, as had been arranged through the Vatican.
I was dressed seasonably in shorts, with my long blond hair tucked back in a French braid. Ortega’s attire, too, was reflective of the casual air to meeting. His tan, military uniform had worn thin, and was free of any protocol insignias. The dark, rose-colored sunglasses he peered through apparently had not changed his somber view of the "noble cause" he claimed to represent. A man of few words, he greeted me with an order, "Come with me." I rode with him in silence as he drove a jeep the short distance across the airstrip to a small, near, two story, white, frame houses.
As we came to a stop in front of the house, Ortega said in a sad, slow voice. "I have needs like any man. But I feel like a whore myself for accepting your President’s offer."
His bedroom was clean and functional, with numerous assault weapons scattered around, I did not see any modern conveniences or personal effects, but Ortega seemed to be at home in his surroundings.
Ortega’s demeanor was that of a man who bad abstained from sex longer than most in big political position. As he slowly unbuttoned his shirt, I noticed a Catholic medallion with the secret Jesuit ascension/descension symbol on it, a common accessory among Jesuit spooks. He sat in wicker chair as I followed his silent lead in gratifying him orally.
While he chain smoked cigarettes, I sat in front of him on the floor, and relayed Reagan’s message to him as programmed. I began. "President Reagan has sent me as a messenger of peace."
He casually interrupted slowly looking me up and down,
"I’d like to have a piece in a few more minutes."
I continued, "Your people have endured many hardships throughout their existence. He (Reagan) only wants to help. The American people want to see peace and freedom in your land. Mexican and U.S. relations are growing stronger by the day, and it is imperative that we resolve your conflict in order to resolve our own with the Mexican government We have come to the agreement with Mexico that the Nicaraguan conflict must be resolved for the sake of your people as well as our own, I am here on a peacekeeping mission representative of Vatican-based common ground shared by both Mexican and American governments, to enlighten you to our peaceful intentions.
“The unified effort of Mexican-American Catholic missions is to promote peace in your region, while only enhancing your culture. The world is rapidly turning toward world peace, and Nicaragua is way behind the times ~ from technology and education to government ideals and religious convictions. Pope John Pail is praying diligently for peace in your region, and has joined forces with President Reagan, Mexico, and even the Soviet Union to ensure that peace.
“He (the Pope) knows your goals, he knows your motives (I leaned forward, almost whispering from my own instilled belief), and he knows your soul. We can all work in tandem to achieve that peace. Nicaragua, small though it may be in relation to the rest of the world, is a significant stepping stone toward unifying world powers. It can no longer be a source of contention and disagreement.
“Your people must be free. Free to worship God through your holy Catholic church. That is first and foremost on President Reagan’s agenda, as well as the Pope’s and President de la Madrid’s. A New World Order is coming into being with or without you; it is an inevitable process that cannot be stopped. A whole new world of peace awaits us all. I can see you are a peace-loving man. It emanates from your being.
“Blood has flowed across your land so heavily that your people are drowning in it. Together we can cauterize that wound. Replace blood flow with cash flow. Americanization can upgrade your technology at a rapid rate. Your people could compete in world markets by the turn of the century. Your future global position has already been determined by geography alone. Flow with it. Lead your people out of poverty.
“Educate them in a manner conducive to their destined position in world markets. Free them from their struggles that have held them captive for so long. Allow the church bells to ring with good news of peace, prosperity and freedom. You can achieve all of your goals for your country’s advancement with our help."
"Tell your President that I have seen his freedom, and listened to" his words projected through yet another example of it. He paints a beautiful picture suspended within his framework.
“A picture can appear serene to its beholder while it is being gazed upon. I cannot worship a graven image, and the picture he paints is just that. We have fought too hard and too long, spilling sweat and blood across this land in our determined effort to maintain human values instilled in us by our forefathers, who gained their profound wisdom from the original Catholic missionaries.
“These values are the same as those portrayed in President Reagan’s painted picture ~ only ours are real. His have only surface value, like any other painting. If I were to concede, I would only be framed within the picture he paints, hung on his wall like a trophy. I will not mislead my people, in spite of his offers of wealth and position, I am true to my convictions, and when he is true to his, then we will meet on common ground and have something of substance to discuss. For now, words are only a waste of our time."
The honk of a jeep’s horn outside awoke him. As I prepared to leave, he said, "Wait". He took a small, 1/4 inch or so ball of black opium from his personal stash, wrapped it in the cellophane from his cigarette package wrapper, and said,
"Give this to your President and tell him that you and I found more peace with this substance than he’ll ever impart on the surface of his painted globe,"
I was immediately returned by plane to Washington, D.C. where my "mission" had originated. This time I was taken directly to Bush’s office, where I delivered Ortega’s message verbatim. Eliminating most of the dialogue, Bush instructed me to deliver a partial message to Reagan. Unable to perceive message content and people beyond my "Need to Know" mind-controlled limited view, I had no concept that Ortega’s message would have a negative impact.
Bush was with Reagan and me in Reagan’s secondary office (to the Oval office) of the White House as I relayed the message as instructed,
“Daniel Ortega is a peace loving man, who seeks the same resolutions that we do. But he told me to tell you ~(I dug in my purse for the opium) that he and I found more peace in this substance ~ (I handed the opium to Reagan) than you’ll ever impart on the surface of your painted globe."
Obviously I wouldn’t be subjected to sex with Reagan that day. I was quickly excused and flown back to Mexico, where I resumed my NCL cruise. With my memory of the event compartmentalized through high voltage, I believed at the time that I had never been gone at all.
In the fall of 1985, the same part of me that met with Ortega was walking with (Reagan appointed) CIA Director William "Bill" Casey through the harbored rose garden of his Long Island estate. Casey began by manipulating my Jesuit/Vatican programming base personality with the expertise indicative of the current union between Catholic and CIA operations.
"I have a World Vision, 1 one of peace. By re-moving the more violent factions of societies world wide and replacing them with faithful leaders of one world government, and the one world church, global unification is eminent. It is a beautiful vision, and it came to me in my dreams.
“God has moved me to move men. I’ve moved them here and I’ve moved them there ~ now it’s time to remove them. My World Vision encompasses the globe and puts to rest any and all tensions, strife, overpopulation, and starvation. My vision is a World Vision, and the churches see it my way as evidenced by their support of the cause."2
"Your heartfelt mission in Haiti has helped in my World Vision quest for her people to abandon hedonistic voodoo and turn their eyes to God and Godly ways. By their own design, they have created an atmosphere of evil whereby a plague will be visited on their land.
“The Lord has so moved me to move men who share our goals into place, and remove those who stand in the way of peace. It is for this reason that your mission in Haiti must be brought to a close. Baby Doc, in his tireless devotion to saving the demonically possessed cannot bear the burden of watching his people die the wretched death unleashed upon those doomed for hell.
“We are left with no alternative but to heed the word of God and spare him from annihilation. For this reason, we will send in the missionaries (Jesuit Mercenaries) to inoculate the population with a vaccine that will spare only the good of heart by virtue of its design. All attempts to maintain Haiti within the loop of financial gain will cease.
“Tourism must be stopped for the sake of the innocents visiting a plagued land. Despite our differences, Baby Doc has complied with the Vatican’s orders to the best of his abilities in his demon-infested land, and must resign his post. We owe it to him to transport him to safety. It is our duty as Americans and followers of God to obey the commands of our Lord and Master and enforce the World Vision.
“It is your duty as an American and follower of God to instill the understanding that God has spoken, and a plague is imminent. Baby Doc is being prepared for transition and awaits word of direction. You will provide him with that word."
The devotion I felt toward the Haitian people was more than a religious understanding of these alternately Catholic-Santeria3 voodoo worshipers. I was actually subconsciously recognizing other tortured mind-controlled slaves in this human created hell called Haiti. Consciously, I now know it was due in part to the visible stun gun/prod marks, plastic ever-present smiles that never quite reach their dead appearing eyes.
Casey and I had been walking through the garden, guarded by more armed men than the President. It wasn’t that I was a threat, I couldn’t even think to save myself. It was that Casey and his World Vision were a threat to humanity that so many guards were needed. The men appeared to be U.S. Secret Service officers according to their attire, weapons, and earphone headsets. One guard conspicuously placed his hand to his headset, listening as though it were remote control. He walked briskly over to Casey, who signaled me to leave with an escort who instantly arrived at my side awaiting instruction.
"Take her to my chambers," Casey told him, "Clear her mind. I have something I need to instill."
"It’s warm in here," the agent said, unbuttoning my while eyelet blouse." Bill (Casey) likes to keep it this way in case-he (Casey) gets a chill and his blood runs cold. Chameleons4 are naturally cold blooded. Make yourself comfortable white I turn up the heat. Mr. Casey doesn’t want to hear a peep out of you, so I’ll warn you now ~ be Silent."
Had I been capable of "reflecting," I would have questioned the validity of Casey’s dramatic position of "religious overtones" on Haitian policy. Like Reagan’s, Casey’s sincerity did not ring true considering the fruits of his labor, But then, I could not consider any more than I could reflect, and I sat in a state of what felt like suspended animation awaiting my instructions.
I listened, deeply tranced, as Casey said,
"Is it a knife or a crucifix? I can’t tell. Both symbolize martyrdom as far as I’m concerned. Note the rose pattern cut into the crystal. Now, I wonder who would have sent me this to give to you."
"You must go to the Citadel and warn our Dominican brothers of impending doom to their neighbors in Haiti. From the Dominican side (of the Haitian island) you will be flown to Port Au Prince where you will meet with Baby Doc (Duvalier) at his Palace. He is already receptive to your word, and knows that my words are your words and your word is Silence. You must tell General Cedras his Order is from the Rose."
When he was through programming me with his message, Casey told me, "As quickly as you complete this mission, you must depart Haiti, never to return again." Casey used excessive high voltage to compartmentalize my memory. I recall being nauseated and ill from his stun gun as I departed his Long Island compound/home via ferry programmed with messages to Cedras and Baby Doc.
Haiti had recently been dropped from the NCL itinerary as a Port of Call, but the Dominican Republic side of the island remained open to tourism. When Houston and I debarked the NCL ship in Puerta Plata, we walked past a World Vision cargo ship that was being unloaded at the dock. I recall that a soft ocean breeze gently lifted the hem of my white, gauzy dress as I weaved my way through the dock load of World Vision freight to a waiting automobile.
Religion and politics apparently mix in the Dominican Republic as evidenced by the inseparable mixture of Catholic Missions, old forts, statues of Christopher Columbus, and Catholic Shrines. As we drove past the mountain tramway that takes tourists up and down to the rustic Citadel and Catholic Shrine at the top, Houston perpetuated the "Chameleon" book scramble. Dually referring to Cedras and the short donkey ride from the tram to the Citadel depicted in Diehl’s book, Houston threatened to put me on the rickety tram saying, "Some Jackass will see you at the top."
In an area reserved for covert activities, out of view of tourists, I met with General Cedras in his Citadel office. Dressed in the eerie, Jesuit, dark, hooded robe, Cedras completed Casey’s "Chameleon" book scramble scenario as we walked through the ancient structure to his office. Cedras’ demeanor made him appear more as a militant than a "spook," despite the corny monk’s attire. With his hood down his back, Cedras’ sharp, craggy features and darting steel blue eyes kept my full attention. I had seen him at a monastery in Santo Domingo as ordered before, 6 when Haiti was still being used by the CIA for Operation Watchtower to transport cocaine and Contra weapons from Cuba.
Alone with Cedras and properly signaled, I began photographically reciting Casey’s message,
"I have word of warning from the Vatican by way of the honorable and faithful William Casey. He sends word of impending doom that is to befall your neighbors on the dark side in Haiti. Voodoo manifests itself in mysterious ways while the way of the Lord is clear. Evil must be stopped at all costs. The cost shall be in terms of human casualty, as a plague is being visited upon the land. Those who fornicate with devils shall be infested with the plague. Woe unto them who have stood in the path of World Peace. By God’s design the New World Order shall come into being with or without the Haitians.
“All American operations in Haiti are now destined for your ports. Your people (the CIA-UN operated Dominicans) will flourish in peace and prosperity while the dark sides (Haitians) drown in the blood of this holy war that they have brought upon themselves. Close your borders swiftly and maintain guardians at the gate lest the Haitians infest your land with their evil plague. Inoculation of the masses shall be masked in the body and the blood shall carry the doom.
“As more and more Haitians turn to God in their final hour, the communion they partake will be Satan’s own. With their God as the scapegoat, your Island in the Son (sun) will be freed of the vile and wicked. I have seen a vision, a World Vision, and it is through communion with the ancients that we have been granted the Keys to the Kingdom 7 to unlock the gates of hell. The holy water sent herein has the blessings of the Vatican and must be sprinkled like rain upon the Haitians.
“Our God reigns, and he rains rivers of blood upon the Haitian masses, and he reigns supreme upon your mission. Your mission is clear. You serve communion and let God son them out. Those who serve the body of Christ are covered by the Vatican; those who serve voodoo evil shall be covered in the blood of their own. It is clear our God reigns. Let the games begin."
"The holy water with the Vatican’s blessings will arrive at 1 PM today by way of World Vision, The blood shall host the plague."8
Houston took me to the small CIA-operated airport at the foot of the mountain where I boarded a small, white airplane destined for Port Au Prince, Haiti. When we landed, the pilot walked me over to Baby Doc’s Tonton guards, and ordered that I be taken to the Palace. He spoke in rapid Haitian French, and lifted my symbolic, rosy cross necklace for emphasis to the guards.
I had met with Baby Doc throughout the early ’80s in the capacity of a Project Monarch prostitute. All Haitian-based U.S. covert operations were run by a bed-ridden old man referred to as "Ol’ Charlie," who resided at the El Presidente Hotel until his death in the mid ’80s. During my tenure as a mind-controlled messenger and prostitute in Haiti, I had been forced to attend a voodoo ceremony for my (and others’) traumatization purposes.
"What brings you here?" Baby Doc spit the words at me in English. I had been led into his library by three armed guards, "I have no need of a Catholic whore."
"I come in the name of peace. I have a message for you from William Casey, sanctioned by the Vatican. The Pope is in agreement with U.S. policy in Haiti. He has seen a vision, a sign from God. The vision is a World Vision, whose people are reaching out to yours with charily in abundance. The goods and services provided require only that the people of Haiti anoint the sick, feed the hungry, and clothe the poor through his servants of World Vision.
“Their mission will separate good seed from bad and restore peace in your region. The peace that shall be visited upon your land amongst your people is imminent, but not before the rivers run red with the blood of the wicked. The vision is plague, and your people will fall in the streets pleading for mercy, and you will not be here to hear it. The lime has come for you to leave. It is God’s will that you escape the plague with blessings from the Vatican, never to return to your homeland.
“Prepare for your exodus today for tomorrow holds a promise of doom. Using your prophetic wisdom, warn the masses of impending doom and arm them with World Vision. The vision is one of peace’ for those who flock to the tents and churches for salvation. Your destiny is clear, and the Vatican has cleared the way for your departure."
1 World Vision was/is a Jesuit controlled organization that led churches to give them money under the guise of spreading world peace. What they were not saying was what the money was actually funding ~ a world peace plan under mind control.
2 Perceptual distortions of the virtues that good people hold most dear is one reason for the proliferation of criminal activity within such organizations as World Vision. There are those within affected factions of such organizations, the Catholic church, and even the U.S. Government that operate under distorted perceptions referred to by the CIA as a "Need to Know" basis ~ and they "Need to Know" that their minds, religion, and/or perceptions are being deliberately manipulated.
3 Since the Catholics had joined forces with the United Nations to overtake the world through mass mind control, the Jesuit influence on Haiti was complete. By maintaining much of the ceremony, placing literal interpretation on "eating the body and drinking the blood," and providing a mirror reversal of good and evil, Catholicism and voodoo, like Catholicism and the United nations, became one in the same.
4 The term "Chameleon" is a term used to describe spies who are expertly trained to blend into any environment at any time unnoticed-just as an MPD mirrors the one they’re with.
5 The Jesuit Vow of Silence was installed through the Rite to Remain Silent of my childhood. Now I know, like so many others in Intelligence, that "Silence Equals Death". Knowledge is our ONLY defense against mind control.
6 Byrd had told me that Cedras was "a strategically placed chess piece that the CIA, Jesuits and U.N. moved around" to usher in their New World Order,
7 "Keys to the Kingdom" was defined by Bill Bennett in accordance with Jesuit programming as follows: "At the onset of Christianity, the Apostles compiled all the information that they had obtained from Christ and built the Holy Catholic Apostolic Church. Christ intended it to be the one world church then—the truth, the light, and the way. The secrets were kept in the Ark of the Covenant, and passed down generation after generation. And generation after generation Christ caused for more to be written-the fruits of his labors expounding on the truth. Now the ark has become archives—a wealth of information. This information is accessible to very few ~ the very few who hold the Keys to the Kingdom".
8 Interpretation of the final message is left to the minds of the masses who can still discern truth. My conclusions are "clear", bused on conversations overheard and my experience as a White House sex slave. Although Byrd and Reagan, among others, had prostituted me to officials in AIDS-infected countries, they used no protection against "the plague" when having sex with me.
9 There can be no world peace without peace-of-mind, and there is no peace-of-mind under mind control. Haiti, once a prototype of New World Order controls has now been used up and discarded by the CIA and Jesuits. U.N. "peacekeeping forces" have created a smoke and mirrors illusion of "peace" by keeping it FROM the Haitian people.
On December 4, 1986, I turned 29 years old. Usually mind-controlled slaves were discarded, "thrown from the Freedom train," at 30; but I argued with Houston when he told me my government abusers only had one year left to "use me up". I had had no conscious awareness of the passing of time, and believed I was still only 24. Regardless of what I believed, my abusers did their best to "use me up" physically and psychologically before even a month had passed.
I was in Washington, D.C. on a routine trip, which included being prostituted to President Reagan. "Uncle Ronnie’s" cheeks were flushed from excitement and cognac as he told me, "I always take two weeks off for Christmas to go back to California." Reagan interrupted himself to break into an old Hollywood style song and dance, "California here I come..."
"I look forward to this trip every year because I get to see old friends. Oh, I still work while I’m there; the President’s work is never done;-but at least I’m there. It’s about time you see where I call home."
Then, quoting the Wizard of Oz, he said, "’There’s no place like home.’ And you’re about to see why. Say it with me, "There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home’." Then he instructed me in Oz cryptic, "Click your heels. There’s no place like home."
The motor home was packed to the walls, and the walls were packed with cocaine as Houston, Kelly, and I departed on our long drive to California. Houston had planned several "tourist stops" along the way that proved as "nightmarish as the California ordeal itself."
In Las Vegas, Nevada, Houston kept Kelly and me busy prostituting us to everyone he knew "in the know" and in attendance at the Country Music Association’s annual convention. Weary of being sent from room to room, I was back in the lobby literally trying to catch my breath when I saw Michael Dante. He was dressed in an expensive, light grey silk suit and dark glasses, looking more like a Fed than a mobster, leaning on a post, waiting for me "Our love" he professed over the phone for mind conditioning purposes was certainly not apparent now. "You’re late," he growled as he looked at his watch.
At the Grand Canyon, Houston traumatized Kelly and me in preparation for the upcoming events in California. While hiking down the canyon, Houston attempted to anchor hypnotically all of the trip’s events behind the death and insanity programming to which he was subjecting us. When we stopped for a late afternoon lunch in the Canyon, Kelly collapsed in a state of shock, unable to eat. Houston was pleased because he "got to eat it all himself".
George Bush was highly active in both the Lampe, Missouri and Shasta, California retreat compounds. Just like Lampe, Shasta’s cover was country music. According to everyone I knew, singer and songwriter Merle Haggard supposedly ran the show at Lake Shasta, diverting any and all attention from the nearby Mount Shasta compound.
Houston stayed at Haggard’s Lake Shasta resort while Kelly and I were helicoptered to Mount Shasta for our scheduled meeting with Bush and Cheney. The helicopter pilot directed our attention to the military fencing surrounding the outer perimeter of the compound. Rarely did pilots ever speak to either of us, but this one smiled wickedly as he told us we would need to know the outer limits for A Most Dangerous Game.
As soon as we arrived at Bush and Cheney’s inner sanctum, I noticed George Bush, Jr. was with them. It was my experience that Jr. stood by his father and covered his backside whenever Bush would become incapacitated from drugs or required criminal backup. It appeared that Jr. was there to serve both purposes while his father and Cheney enjoyed their work-vacation.
Hyper from drugs, Cheney and Bush were eager to hunt their human prey in "A Most Dangerous Game". They greeted me with the rules of the game, ordered me to strip naked despite the cold December winds, and told me in Oz cryptic to "beware of the lions and tigers and bears". Kelly’s life became the stakes, as usual, which resurrected my natural and exaggerated programmed maternal instincts. Tears silently ran down my cheeks as Bush told me,
"If we catch you, Kelly’s mine. So run, run as fast as you can. I’ll get you and your little girl, too, because I can, I can, I can. And I will."
Cheney, daring me to respond, asked, "Any questions?" I said, "There’s no place to run because there’s a fence ~ the kind I can’t get over. I saw it"
Rather than physically assault me. Cheney laughed at my sense of "no where to run, no where to hide and explained that a bear had torn a hole in the fence somewhere, and all I had to do is find it. He lowered his rifle to my head and said, "Let the games begin. Go."
I pulled on my clothes and sat in the office part of the cabin awaiting instructions. I had no idea where Kelly was, nor do I in retrospect. Bush and Cheney were still in their hunting clothes when the programming session began. Bush said,
"You and I are about to embark on A Most Dangerous Game of diplomatic relations. This is my game. You will follow my rules. I will have the distinct advantage of hunting you with my Eye in the Sky (satellite).
I’ll watch every move you make. As long as you play the game by my rules and make no mistakes, you live. One mistake and I’ll get you, my pretty, and your little girl, too. You die, and Kelly will have to play with me. I prefer it that way. Then it will be her Most Dangerous Game. The cards are stacked in my favor because, well, it is my game! Are you game?"
"Good. Then let the games begin. Listen carefully to your instructions. You have no room for error." Cheney flipped his "game timer" ~ an hourglass. Bush continued, "This game is called the King and Eye, and here’s the deal. You will be establishing stronger diplomatic relations according to order between Mexico, the U.S., and the Middle East. Your role will require a change of face at each new place. I’ll chart your course, define your role, and pull your strings. You’ll speak my words when I pull your strings. There is no room for error."
Bush looked at Cheney and burst out laughing. The sight of him dressed in his hunting clothes with a huge bore, double-barreled shotgun to his shoulder inspired Bush to tell him he "looked like Elmer Fudd".
Cheney, imitating the cartoon character, said, "Where is that waskily wabbit?"
Operation The King and Eye would involve Reagan’s #1 envoy Philip Habib (who cryptically played the Alice in Wonderland role of the White Rabbit with slaves such as myself) and Saudi Arabian King Fahd. So when Bush referred to the two as "Elmer Fahd and the Waskily Wabbit," he and Cheney laughed until they cried.
1 Dick Cheney has no official U.S. military history to justify his position as our nation’s former Defense Secretary under President George Bush.
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