It was 1977. I was a 19-year-old mind-controlled programmed slave in the CIA/DIA Project Monarch Freedom Train operation, literally owned by U.S. Senate Majority Leader Robert C. Byrd, who was then a 20-year incumbent and on the Senate Appropriations Committee, As Byrd’s "own little witch" (sex slave), I would also become involved in covert government operations. I now understand that this required more memory compartments/personalities than I had developed.
I moved to Nashville, as ordered, to marry Cox, who took me to the backwoods of his hometown swamp in Chatham, Louisiana for months at a time for occult traumatization. Cox had been brought up in witchcraft by his mother, and admittedly longed for her sexually and ritually. Together they subjected me to their beliefs, which included what equates to a weakened version of mind control used by witches for centuries, anchored in superstition rather than scientific fact.
Cox and I traveled to Florida on several occasions as his mother’s parents lived in Mims, which is only minutes away from the NASA Kennedy Space Center in Titusville. Cox, like my father, made sure I was there for mind-control testing and programming as ordered. Cox perceived me as a "Chosen One," and often used this CIA Project Monarch term when referring to me and for proudly "justifying" his leaving me at the NASA installation.
Cox had a variety of belief systems that he applied to various situations, all of which were superstition based. He believed in spirit communication or "divine guidance" through nature spirits and demons; that Satan must be appeased; that Jesus is an alien,; that the Bermuda Triangle is a door to another dimension; and that the end of the world is near. He ’religiously’ carried a Bible with him everywhere-including to occult rituals-quoting scripture like a theologian.
Cox demanded I become a Mormon in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. This was to "prove" that Satan was everywhere-particularly in the Monroe, Louisiana Mormon Church where he led occult ritual, and in the Hendersonville, Tennessee church that the so-called Freedom Train rolled through.1
Cox’s determination to instill his religious superstitious beliefs in me was side-tracked by J. Bennett Johnston in his Shreveport, Louisiana office early in the summer of 1978.
Cox’s mother, Mary, had driven us to Johnston’s office near Barksdale Air Force Base as ordered. As she knocked boldly on the obscure metal door, I read the attached metal sign: "General Dynamics Research and Development". A smaller sign near the doorknob read; "Unlawful to enter premises without prior authorization. All violators will be prosecuted under penalty of federal law."
Johnston, wearing a light blue, leisure suit and smelling strongly of body odor, opened the door. "Well, hey Senator," Mary drawled in her backwoods Louisiana dialect, "I brought the children to see you like you said."
Johnston looked at her with annoyed disgust. "I see that," he said matter-of-factly. He then proceeded to instruct Mary to wait outside a moment while he talked with Cox, then to take him on to her home in Monroe where I could be picked up at the Airport a few days later.
Cox and I were ushered into Johnston’s barren military-style furnished office. Several Presidential and military photographs hung on the wall and served as the only decor. Johnston sat on the front of his military issue desk and talked to Cox’s subconscious mind using cryptic, hypnotic Disney Peter Pan theme language, 3 as he apparently had done in the past when Cox had a mind left to control.
"As long as your ticker’s running, chat crock-a-dial you’ve been feeding over the years will be running right behind you. (Peter) Pan knew how to stay a step ahead of the game and stop the inevitable process of becoming gator bait himself by offering to give him a hand now and then."
"I’ve got to hand it to that Pan. His livelihood of creating hookers for the Captain (Hook) was indeed lucrative. And speaking of creating hookers, a little Byrd told me that a shift from routine hand-ling to a theme that is alien could prove lucrative to you."
"I’ll lay a little groundwork and set the pattern for countdown. Then I’ll send her out to launch for you, and it’s your job to man the craft from there..."
"I was there that fateful day in 1943 when a hole was ripped in the fabric of time through what later became known as the Philadelphia Experiment. All those fine boys vanished along with their ship in a bizarre twist of events that parallels the Atlantis disappearances. A vortex was created in an effort to slip dimensions and become invisible to the enemy. It was a success beyond the highest expectations and launched us all into universal travel. It is no wonder at all that we have had a man on the moon.
Traveling to distant planets and galaxies is Mickey Mouse stuff in comparison to the high-tech wizardry of trans-dimensional travel. Trans-dimensional travel circumvents all measures of time, including distance and speed. When the fabric of time was torn, we opened ourselves up to intergalactic travel ~ both in and out of this dimension ~ and in and out of the future, as well as the past.
We can alter the course of history by traveling back in time to alter events, or we can blast off into the future and gain wisdom and knowledge of events yet to come. We can control the future by controlling the past. At present, this is a relatively easy task according to the theory of relativity and abilities gained through the Philadelphia Experiment. I came back an ET (extraterrestrial) myself. And our ship returned to this Earth as a spaceship.3
I gained the keys to the universe on that fateful day, and I carry them with me now, sharing only a Key or two at a time with those who are Chosen. You are a Chosen One (Johnston was deliberately interfacing with Rite to Remain Silent conditioning), and therefore must learn the ins and outs of interplanetary travel. Your mission is trans-dimensional. You can span infinite dimensions by learning from me. Take it from me; you’re going places, kid.
And I’ll teach you to get there by riding the light. I’ll teach you the groundwork, and you do the light work. The key to the universe lies in the speed of light. The only way to travel is by beam of light. You will learn to go to the light... Your mission is to learn how to Tinker with time. I’m going to take you on that journey myself. Come with me now. It’s time we were leaving this plane and boarding another."
Once we were airborne, Johnston accessed my sex programmed personalities for his own aggressive perversion. His use of cocaine further accentuated his hyperactive demeanor as he brutally slung me around the back of the small plane while he had sex with me. At one point the pilot hollered from the cockpit "Hey, you’re creating turbulence. Knock it off, will you."
Johnston laughed and responded, "What the fuck do you think I’m doing?" By the time we arrived at Tinker A.F.B., my arm was beginning to show a dark bruise that extended from my shoulder to my elbow. A uniformed man greeted us as we walked across the airfield. Johnston apparently knew him quite well, and referred to him as "Cap’n" (which tied in with the Peter Pan theme programming I was about to endure).
"Hey, that’s not necessary, you know."
"Yeah, I know. Take care of it for me. Here..." Johnston took the straps of my tank top and pulled them down around my forearms (which still could not cover the bruise.)
"There, that just about covers it." He smiled and continued, "You look like a Southern belle that way rather than a damned ol’ Yankee anyway," Cap’n said, "She’ll be a Tinker-belle by the time we’re through here today."
Then, referring to Johnston’s primary purpose in actually escorting me to Tinker he asked, "How are your South American operations progressing?"
"I’ve got to talk to you about that," Johnston answered. The two talked as though they had worked in tandem on given mercenary operations/assignments in the past. "I may need a few of your boys to back me on something."
"Back you, or cover you?" the Cap’n retorted.
Johnston laughed, "Both if you’ll front the operation."
I was escorted away from the two by a nurse, who purported to be tending to my injured arm. In fact, she was preparing me for the "Tinker-belle cage"4 ~ an electrified metal cage with an electrified grid bottom. Locked inside, I was subjected to high, direct current voltage to compartmentalize the Peter Pan theme mind-control programming that I endured. Like Peter Pan’s Tinkerbelle, I learned to "ride the light" as a means of travel.5
Back in Louisiana, Cox and I shared a subconscious understanding of Peter Pan themes and "riding the light". The difference between us was that Cox consciously activated Tinker Air Force Base programming within Johnston’s band of mercenaries, while my trance was perpetual whereby I could "Never-Never-Land."6
I was with Cox on numerous occasions when he was running guns and/or cocaine, and activating specified mercenaries for operations as instructed by Johnston, In the course of these travels I saw numerous underground arsenals and stockpiled weapons that were known to Senator Johnston, but were not on. Military installations. I was also privy to government sanctioned cocaine operations.
On one such cocaine run in 1979, I traveled with Cox to a remote area in the Ouachita National Forest near Hot Springs, Arkansas to "watch for fairies like Tinker-belle" and "ride the light".
We sat in the brush near a railroad track until we saw a light approaching from the Eastern sky. At the time I thought I would be "riding the light" as I was led to believe, but in retrospect I recall my personalities being deliberately switched and a helicopter landing in a nearby clearing. Cox and I unloaded approximately 200-400 pounds of cocaine from the van he had driven, and stacked it in the helicopter.
"Yeah," a voice answered, "I got a Tinker-belle and a Peter Pan here to see you, Sir," the driver called.
"Send ’em in." Cox and I walked into the suite where then Governor of Arkansas Bill Clinton was shuffling through a briefcase. Clinton and Johnston were cohorts in illegal covert operations that emanated from Tinker Air Force Base.
Cox spoke up. "Senator Johnston said a little (Senator) Byrd told him that you are one of Ours."’
"So what does that make you?" Clinton asked impatiently.
"A Chosen One," Cox nodded his head toward me.
Clinton asked me, "Chosen by whose order?"
Clinton rolled his eyes, and looked back over at Cox who was nervously rocking back and forth as he so often did. "State your business," Clinton ordered.
"Uh," Cox cleared his throat, habitually picked his nose as he rocked back and forth and said, "Well, uh..." Clinton looked disgusted. "Get him the fuck out of here!" he ordered the driver. Cox was immediately escorted out, "That’s better," Clinton said. Using standard Jesuit hand signals and cryptic language, he triggered/switched me and accessed a previously programmed message.7
"Senator Johnston sent me to give this to you." I handed Clinton a thin, large brown envelope, "And I have some fairy dust guaranteed to make you fly high." I took the personal stash of cocaine that Johnston was sharing with Clinton from my pocket.
Clinton snorted two lines of the coke immediately. He smiled. "Tell Ben I’m impressed." He showed me to the door.
The severe torture and mind-control programming that I was enduring at Tinker Air Force Base had prepared me for this simple "mission" and many others. Although Cox’s out-of-control occult serial killings poly-fragmented my multiple personalities as intended by Byrd, it was Johnston’s alien theme mind conditioning that locked me into absolute robotic helplessness.
When my daughter, Kelly, was born in February of 1980, Cox’s former employer Jack Greene, traveled to Louisiana to meet with me in keeping with his role as Nashville’s CIA Freedom Train "conductor". He took me aside and explained that since Cox had fulfilled his (genetic) role in producing Kelly, Senator Byrd had ordered me back to Nashville. Greene talked at length, hypnotically reviving my original programmed "obsession" to move to Nashville.
If I had had a mind of my own, I know in retrospect I would have felt as though I had been released from a prison dungeon. But I could only respond by telling Cox matter-of-factly that I had received "divine guidance" to move to Nashville at once to a home that awaited me. Cox had no choice but to comply with Byrd’s orders. Kelly and I moved to Tennessee when she was only three months old, and Cox temporarily moved with us in order to apprise our new handler of the latest details of our victimization.
1 Substantial information regarding the saturation of occultism in the Mormon church is a published fact, circulated among the Bishopric, then released by Bishop Pace in on effort to restore morality and freedom of thought to church members.
2 Senator Johnston’s dual and triple cryptic language perplexed me at the time. In retrospect, I understand how this component of mind control allowed for undetected proliferation of criminal covert activity, even when overheard by strangers, to the extent that I believed it must be occurring in "another dimension" as I was told.
3 Johnston "validated" his ploy in my mind by arranging for me to see his "space-ship"-a then TOP SECRET experimental aircraft which would eventually be known as a Stealth fighter- at a military installation near Baton Rouge. The classified triangular Stealth was so alien to me at the time that it looked more like a spaceship than the U.S. fighter plane it actually is. This, in combination with his inhumane demeanor and my previously instilled belief in trans- dimensional travel, convinced me he was the "ET" he purported to be.
4 I understand this is referred to as a Woodpecker grid.
5 "Riding the Light" scrambled my future experience of being transported by military helicopter or airplane to robotically carry out some program for the government. This "trance-dimensional" travel caused my earthly experiences to be perceived as having occurred in another dimension.
6 I remained in a Post Traumatic Stress Disordered (PTSD) trance.
7 Same Jesuit reference used to describe Pierre Trudeau.
Soon after moving to Tennessee, I learned that Senator Byrd had simply exchanged one living hell for another for me. My new mind-control handler, CIA operative and country music ventriloquist/ stage hypnotist Alex Houston, seemed only to pick up where Cox had left off. As "destined," Kelly and I moved into a run-down old trailer on Houston’s property, which adjoined Jack Greene’s farm in Goodletsville, Tennessee. I was subjected to further occult ritual on Greene’s farm, and was ritually impregnated and aborted again, this time by Houston.
Cox was soon fired from his position with Louise due to his insanity. Once when Houston was traveling with the Mandrells as he so often did throughout the years, Irby Mandrell relayed the events that prompted his firing of Cox. He told Houston and me that Cox had become an embarrassment to him while traveling.
"I knew he was weird," Irby Mandrell said. "That’s OK. I can live with that. But when he pitched a tent behind the hotel so he could hear the trumpets sound, signaling him to march to Missouri, 2 I said, ’Start marching, son. You’re done. You’re through in Nashville. Don’t ever come back.’ That’s it, he was done."
"Oh, yeah. I remember he (Cox) had somewhat of a brain back then." Irby Mandrell continued, "Barbara was just a kid back then with the talent of a full blown star. I thought she had what it takes to make it in the industry. Then the Byrd came along and introduced us to the latest in technology."
Houston interrupted, "Are you talking about (music) equipment or the kind they’ve got in Huntsviile (Alabama’s NASA mind-control training center)?"
"Both," Mandrell replied. "But it was Huntsville that launched her to the stars. The doors opened wide after that. Byrd took a lot of pride in Barbara, and the doors just kept opening. With my baby’s talent and the Byrd’s influence on her mind and career, there was no way we could lose."
Houston had, and has, a great deal of "no show" money, but I was never permitted access to it. Poverty was one more means of control I endured, as slaves like myself were not afforded the freedoms that having money allows. When I was working three menial jobs during college, all of my money was taken from me by my parents. All money earned by Cox’s cocaine and body parts enterprises was reinvested in the coven and drugs, leaving us dependent on charities for our basic necessities.
My innate protective maternal instincts as a mother may have been accentuated due to my past unsuccessful attempts to protect my brothers and sisters (I now had two sisters). It was my desperate need to keep Kelly safe that drove me to the point of "fight or flight" when I was transferred to Houston. I had long ago lost my ability to "fight," but my new maternal instincts compelled me to "flight". I did all I could to save Kelly and myself from Houston and her fate in Project Monarch.
After three more months of intense, nonstop tortures by Cox, I could not think to follow maternal instincts and barely knew my own name. I had no idea how old I was, where I was, how long I had been there, and what had happened to Kelly during that time, Kelly’s own testimony and current programmed poly fragmented Multiple Personality/Dissociative Identity Disorder reflects the high tech, sophisticated conditioning and torturous trauma she endured during this and numerous ensuing times that we were separated. When I was returned to Houston as orchestrated by Byrd, my brain contained a series of new compartments ready to be programmed and led.
Intensive mind-control behavior programming began at once, and Houston ensured that I was taken to my appointed destinations under the guise of his travels in the country music industry. In the early 1980s, my base programming was instilled at Fort Campbell, Kentucky by U.S. Army Lt. Colonel Michael Aquino.
During the three months I was back with Cox, a muscle in my upper vaginal wall was cut and dropped in preparation for Houston to flesh carve a hideous witch’s face 4 for Senator Byrd’s perversion. Aquino provided the ancient instructions on how to mutilate me, and Houston used silver nitrate and hot extract knives to carve the details of the face without any form of anesthesia. By flexing the muscle downward, the face protruded out of my vagina. Not only did this surgery give Byrd a vagina suited to his minute, underdeveloped penis, it also provided an equitable "curiosity" to be displayed over and over again in both commercial and non-commercial pornography and prostitution.
On the 1981 anniversary of John F. Kennedy’s assassination, I was forced to "marry" Alex Houston for appearance sake. Earlier that month when I had been taken to Washington, D.C for prostitution purposes, Byrd informed me that I would actually be "marrying" him when I "pledged my vows" to Houston.
"It is a covenant between the two of us," Byrd had said, "It is me that you will honor and obey ’til death do us part," Byrd then instructed me to pick up my wedding dress from a nearby D.C. store. Throughout the years, Houston often joked about the significance of my Washington, D.C. wedding dress ~ which was depicted in pornographic photos and a commercial video to "commemorate our wedding night", Alex Houston’s "best man," Jimmy Walker, was also a photographer for Larry Flynt’s sexually graphic commercial pornography magazine, Hustler.
Houston’s booking agent, Reggie Mac (MacLaughlin), of United Talent and later of MacFadden Agency in Nashville, Tennessee, had been booking CIA involved country music acts into key locations to aid the execution of covert government operations. For example, Houston’s ventriloquist act "Alex and Elemer" would be scheduled to perform at a county or state fair near Washington, D.C., where I would be picked up by car or helicopter and escorted to the White House or the Pentagon.
During the early ’80s, Reggie MacLaughlin primarily booked Houston into areas that were conducive to my mind-control programming with Aquino. I was first subjected to Aquino’s tortures and programming in Fort Campbell, Kentucky; Fort McClellen in Anniston, Alabama; and most frequently, at Redstone Arsenal and Marshall Space Flight Center in Huntsville, Alabama.
In 1981, Byrd personally joined Aquino in Huntsville, Alabama during one of our programming sessions. NASA cooperated fully with Byrd on any and everything, since it was Byrd’s Senate Appropriations Committee that determined how much and/or whether NASA received government funding. I lay naked on the cold metal table, tranced and photographically recording every word and detail of my programming and every word that Byrd and Aquino not so privately discussed.
The How to Create a Sex Slave film depicts the common "spin" programming, which in essence is the combination to unlocking or accessing a specific programmed act. For example, the compartment of the mind that holds memory of incest is stimulated to open when the original abuse is eminent. Seeing my father’s penis would "trigger" a specific response, supposedly opening the neuron pathways of my brain to allow the part of my brain that dealt with his actions before to deal with them again.
This is but one simplified example of sex programming, and I was programmed for more than sex. But this particular incident of programming at the U.S. Army Redstone Arsenal would change my existence entirely and set the stage for my role in covert government black, budget-type operations as a "Presidential Model".
Seeing and/or knowing that Kelly was being tortured and programmed proved to be a detriment to my own mind-control programming, such that the common "cross-programming" of mother and daughter was rarely viable. In the fall of 1982, Houston was scheduled to perform at the State Fair in Senator Byrd’s home state of West Virginia, Byrd arrived at our hotel with LT. COL. Aquino, who took Kelly with him, supposedly for programming purposes, I was left alone in the hotel room with Byrd, whose KKK affiliation fueled his rage over my having been recently prostituted to black entertainer and CIA operative Charlie Pride.
Byrd was still whipping me when Aquino returned with my tranced and traumatized daughter. I regained consciousness enough to pull myself up off the floor when I heard Kelly’s hysterical cries. Byrd ordered me to the bathroom for a cold shower to stop the bleeding. My body could not carry out his orders, and I collapsed again in the bathroom, smearing blood all over the floor. Kelly’s cries again revived me, and I crawled to the door to find Byrd sexually assaulting her and Aquino disrobing to join them.
Later that afternoon, Kelly and I stood hand in hand in the afternoon sun at the State Fair where Senator Byrd was about to make a speech to his constituents. My blouse stuck to my freshly whipped skin as Byrd walked onto the stage, and the crowd cheered.
Kelly has reported enduring much sexual abuse by both Byrd and Aquino. Aquino apparently incorporated sexual abuse with his mind-control programming and sex training of her, and shared more such events with Byrd. It was also my experience that Byrd’s sexual perversions were heightened when Aquino shared in the assault. Traumatic events such as this one in West Virginia reinforced my own programming through conditioning, and further locked me in to Byrd’s seemingly inescapable control.
The majority of my programming, as well as a large part of Kelly’s, was again Oz theme based. This means the combination of codes, keys and triggers to access me were related to L.Frank Baum's story, The Wizard Of Oz. Whether or not it was Baum’s intention (or for that matter Walt Disney’s, Lewis Carroll, etc.), it is evident that his psychologically intense story was used for manipulating minds.
CIA cryptic language is manipulation of the English language such that words have a double meaning (aka ’double binds’ in mental health terminology.) It works much the way as communication through "inside jokes", among people familiar with each other. Perhaps this is a reason for the government’s use of professional comedians as slave handlers.
1 Jimmy Dean is knowledgeable of, and a willing participant in criminal covert activity including the use of mind-controlled slaves.
2 "Marching to Missouri" is a Mormon based belief that interfaced with the CIA’S FACTION OF THE COUNTRY MUSIC industry being transferred to Branson, Missouri in the mid 1980s.
3 120,000-volt stun guns leave two indented prod marks or moles two inches apart, while the cylindrical stun gun USED primarily in the vagina and rectum leaves prod marks/moles 3/4 of an inch apart.. A look into trash-magazine publisher Larry Flint’s Hustler will show prod marks on the mind-controlled slaves he photographs, particularly on the throat, near the lips. and on the back.
4 The "witch’s face" has also been referred to as that of a baphomet and Jesuit monk.
5 I photo identified the Sergeant and his (jailer) officer in 1990, and Mark’s and my lives were threatened through then-District Attorney, now U.S. Representative, Bud Cramer (D. Huntsville, Alabama) of the Congressional Permanent Intelligence Committee as a result of this revelation!
6 To a literal mind-controlled MPD/DID slave, the term "Head Priar" equates to "head frier", meaning high voltage to the brain.
After Aquino instilled my base sex programming, I was often taken by Houston to Youngstown, Ohio to attend the sex slave training camp hell hole referred to as "Charm School". Houston often performed in the Youngstown area at county fairs, Fraternal Order of Police shows, or any little country music entertainment gigs that would bring us in the proximity of the dreaded Charm School. On occasion, Kelly would go through the torture process with me.
Charm School was reportedly operated by an identified member of the Mellon Banking family (Byrd’s Endowment for the Arts’ largest contributor). The operator took the name and role of "Governor" from the movie My Fair Lady, in an attempt to confuse my torturous reality with movie fantasy.
Once the door closed behind me, Charm School meant I would be charmed, mesmerized (hypnotized), and programmed to be a high class prostitute for select politicians. I did learn their way to walk; I learned when to talk, how to dress, how to sit, stand, and all the rest. Table manners were not taught as they were not needed since slaves endured food and water deprivation when working. Above all, we were taught how to gratify any sexual perversion. Just as Traficant opened the door to Charm School for slaves, he oftentimes was the one to "test" their newly learned sexual skills to determine when or if slaves could leave.
A typical three-day course at Charm School included the usual factors of, sleep, food, and water deprivation; trauma; high voltage; and programming. Often times experimental or tried and proven CIA manufactured "designer" drugs were administered which produced specific brain wave activity to maximize and/or compartmentalize programs. I usually spent the first day hanging in the dungeon.
I was repeatedly filmed pornographically, and always taken upstairs to the "Master’s Chambers" for prostitution to participants, including the real "Governor" of Charm School, then Pennsylvania Governor Dick Thomburgh, Congressman Jim Traficant,2 Lt. Col. Michael Aquino, and others. When Kelly was with me, she endured the same and we were forced to see each other physically tortured as further psychological trauma. This was to ensure I could never remember the who, what, when, or where of our bizarre enslavement. This is what is sometimes referred to as cross-programming.
In spite of the deliberately created amnesic blocks, I developed a sub-conscious sympathetic understanding for other Charm School slaves that extended outside the walls of this man-made hell. This understanding emanated from the depths of my being, creating a compassion for other mind-control victims mat compels me to give voice to their silent pleas for help to this day.
I became close friends with one such victim, who must remain anonymous in order to survive to eventually recover. This beautiful blonde and I had numerous opportunities to be together throughout the years, as Houston’s government sponsored travels routinely took him into her home state of Pennsylvania while Dick Thomburgh was Governor.
My friend and I were photographed together for Larry Flynt’s commercial pornography publications, and featured in the illicit films that contributed to funding CIA covert operations. In addition to this, she and I were able to spend two weeks together when her husband/handler traveled to Houston’s farm in Tennessee for instructions on handling his new "bride".
I was "made of honor" for my friend’s "wedding," which was no more a marriage than mine to Houston. As was customary with Project Monarch slaves, her marriage to her handler equated to marriage to her mind-control owner, U.S. Senator Arlen Spector.
The "wedding" I was forced to participate in was for pornography purposes only, and it took place in Arlen Spector's Conneaut Lake house in Pennsylvania.
Spector’s stone house was located in a wooded, remote setting and was masculine in decor. Side rooms were either designated for perverse sex or were furnished with antiquated NASA virtual reality and programming equipment. The musty smell of Spector’s playhouse was overpowered by the scent of roses, which he symbolically presented to his slave on their "wedding" day.
My friend’s "wedding" photos included Catholic themes, and the crucifix featured was rose cut crystal similar to the one I received from Byrd.
Regardless of how this girl was depicted, her innate morality was apparent to me. She and I were referred to as "minor/mere cats," due to the similarity of our victimizations. Like me, she was controlled through manipulation of her religious beliefs and maternal instincts. The delicate rose tattooed on her left wrist signifying her role in government operations did not detract from her high class projection any more than Spector’s immorality could mar her innate goodness. Once Arlen Spector officially became this slave’s owner, her Charm School status rose to "Presidential Model".
In addition to Charm School, I endured extensive programming to prepare me for future operations. Houston was often booked into Oklahoma fairs, Masonic Lodges, F.O.P. Conventions, and so on, in order that I be back in the vicinity of Tinker Air Force Base for further programming.
Houston’s CIA orchestrated travels in the country music industry led me to a TOP SECRET military/NASA installation at Offit Air Force Base in Nebraska. The "you can run, but you can’t hide"3 conditioning was deeply ingrained in my mind there through a technique that was later used on Kelly, as well as on other mind-control slaves, I was taken underground to a so-called ’secret’ circular room where the walls were covered with numerous screens showing satellite pictures from around the world.
"Where will you run?" he asked me. "To the Arctic? The Antarctic? Brazil? The mountains? The desert? The prairies? The hills of Afghanistan? The city of Kabul? Devil’s Tower (Wyoming)? Would you try to run to Cuba and live among our enemies? We can find you there. There is truly no place to run and no place to hide.
The U.S. Senate (the picture was of Byrd)? The White House? Or to your own backyard? (My father was depicted waving from his front door, cupping his hands over his mouth saying, "come back" just like Aunt Em in The Wizard Of Oz.) The moon? We got you covered. You can run, but you can’t hide."
During the course of my training/conditioning, I was routinely prostituted to Senator Byrd in Washington, D.C., at the West Virginia State Fair, NASA in Huntsville, Alabama, and at the Opryland Hotel in Nashville, Tennessee. One such night when I was to be prostituted to Byrd at Opryland Hotel, Lt. Colonel Aquino was scheduled to join him in perversely assaulting me. Much to my horror, Aquino arrived early, in full army dress uniform, backstage at the Grand Ol’ Opry.
"What are you doing in there, little lady?" Kristopherson asked. "The Colonel wants to see you".
Aquino had walked over and sarcastically asked, "What are you doing in those machine wires? That could very well be a shocking experience for you."
While I untangled myself from the wires, Kristopherson and Aquino continued their banter at my expense, Kristopherson held up his key ring and jingled it, catching my undivided attention as conditioned, while he told Aquino, "You’re gonna need the Keys to the Kingdom to work with this one right here."
"Keys to the Kingdom," of course, referred to my previously instilled (Enter/Inter) "Inner-dimensional" Catholic programmed personalities. Since Aquino was my primary mind-control programmer at the time, Kristopherson was informing Aquino of programs previously instilled in childhood via the "Rite to Remain Silent". By jingling the keys, he was demonstrating his control over me and his momentary edge on Aquino.
"I got ’em," Kristopherson was saying as he jingled the keys. "She’s mine unless you wanna play ball. Besides, you have to. The Byrd sent me."
"I’ve been expecting you," Aquino said with a smile.
Byrd monitored all of my programming "progress," and often tortured me with his whip and pocketknife. He picked up where my mother left off, to destroy any self-esteem I might have inadvertently developed. He said,
"There is no place for you to turn because if you could think to talk no one would ever believe I would have anything to do with the likes of you."
"The first Presidential Model, Marilyn Monroe, was killed right in front of the public eye and no one knew what happened."
Senator Byrd revealed his "justifications" for criminal activity to me as well. He used me as a sounding board even though he knew I was incapable of input or response. He rehearsed in keeping with his motto "The only way we can fail, is to fail to think of an excuse."
Byrd "justified" mind-control atrocities as a means of thrusting mankind into accelerated evolution, according to the Neo-Nazi principles to which he adhered. He "justified" manipulating mankind’s religion to bring about the prophesied biblical "world peace" through the "only means available" ~ total mind control in the New World Order.
"After all," he proclaimed, "even the Pope and Mormon Prophet know this is the only way to peace and they cooperate fully with The Project."
"95% of the (world’s) people WANT to be led by the 5%", and claimed this can be proven because "the 95% DO NOT WANT TO KNOW what really goes on in government".
To create this "superior race," Byrd believed in the Nazi and KKK principles of "annihilation of underprivileged races and cultures" through genocide, to alter genetics and breed "the more gifted-the blondes of this world".
My CIA Operative mind-control handler, Alex Houston was often scheduled to perform at the Swiss Villa Amphitheatre in Lampe, Missouri, which is yet another installation where I was programmed. Swiss Villa was a cover for a CIA Near Death Trauma Center of which there are several across the country. It is a remote, high security resort, enclosed with military barbed wire fences that swing its guarded gate open to the local public for country music concerts.
Swiss Villa, like the Mount Shasta California compound, was also used as a training and operations camp for the Shadow Government's paramilitary projects referred to by Senator Inouye (D. HI). I learned that this not-so-secret military buildup, sanctioned by corrupt members of our government, consisted of Special Forces-trained robotic soldiers, numerous black unmarked helicopters, and the highest technological advancements in TOP SECRET weaponry and "Star Wars" electromagnetic mind-control equipment. These paramilitary compounds were intended for global policing of the New World Order through the Multi-Jurisdictional Police Force.
"A Most Dangerous Game" was often played at Swiss Villa and involved CIA agents, politicians, and others who would attend the resort just for the sport of hunting humans. Kelly and I both were hunted at Swiss Villa. The tortures and rape after being caught were extensive and sufficiently traumatized our minds for ensuing programming, as well as for creating memory compartmentalization for the high level operations we witnessed behind the villa’s patrolled fences.
According to my abusers, my deprogrammer and primary advocate Mark Phillips and I have embarked on "THE Most Dangerous Game" through efforts such as releasing this book and turning a spotlight on the Shadow Government to reveal its members’ identities and their crimes against humanity, Mark Phillips and I are determined to beat them at their own "game" by arming the "95%" with the truth that perpetrators "don’t want them to know!"
1 Dick Thomburgh is listed in Houston’s CIA memo book which is now in my (and others’) possession.
2 Please note that, while still Sheriff of Youngstown, Ohio, Traficant was investigated and subsequently indicted for federal racketeering, drug distribution, and Mafia connections. However, he was acquitted through careful CIA jury manipulation and he went on to become the U.S. Representative he is to this date.
3 Once gaining "eyes to see and ears to hear," this "you can run, but you can’t hide" theme is so widely used it is visible from Hallmark greeting cards to Interstate overpasses to the lock-in song by the rock group, Police’s "I’ll Be Watching You".
4 A good friend of mine who remains a victim to date was "married" to Kristopherson on the night she wed her mind-control handler-much the way I had "married" Byrd when I wed Houston. The crucifix used to her Larry Flynt "wedding night" porn photos was mirrored rather than crystal.
5 Kristopherson nearly strangled me to death with his penis, which had further sexually excited him, late in the summer of 1987 during another incident related to Byrd.
I no longer had any mind of my own. I was absolutely void of free will and was now totally robotic. So was Kelly, We wore our Charm School smile at all times, and did exactly what we were told to do. The only characteristic noticeably out of place was Kelly’s age-inappropriate programmed vocabulary and mannerisms.
When we were not traveling, I began each day at 4:00 A.M. with a minimum of 2 hours aerobic exercise. Afterward, I tended farm animals and did other chores, then cooked Houston a large country breakfast which neither Kelly or I were permitted to share. Houston would then order me to work to exhaustion on his 100-acre farm while he watched.
I ate "like a bird (Byrd)," following Byrd’s orders of 300 calories per day ~ with no sugar or caffeine. My metabolism was low. I was trained to compute calories like a machine, eating more like a rabbit than a "bird"; I had to count every calorie, from a simple taste of what I had to cook for Houston to semen.
Norwegian Caribbean Lines (NCL) cruise ships depart regularly from Miami, Florida and travel throughout the Caribbean and Mexico. NCL provides pleasure cruises to the public complete with "entertainment" like that of Alex Houston while carrying out CIA operations. Sue Carper, former director of entertainment procurement for all NCL cruise ships, would ensure that government covert activities staging were properly orchestrated.
In keeping with NCL’s Caribbean operations, Byrd adjusted his use of programming themes to include the mirror-reversal, interdimensional, Air-Water mind-control theme used on me by NASA and the Jesuits. I often saw dolphins playing in the ocean while being transported from port to port via the Cruise ships, but the popular "whales and dolphins" mind-control theme was avoided in favor of a theme more suitable to my experience-that of the Sea-Bird-Robert C. (Sea) Byrd.
"Atlantis1 has long been the epicenter of alien activity. The path is so well warn that there are holes in the fabric of time and space whereby airplanes and ships, even people, timelessly seemingly disappear, transformed into another dimension alien to this world. Likewise, we (aliens) came in, entering through the mirror reflection of the hole in the fabric of space, the deep blue sea. Some of us entered Earth’s plane as whales and dolphins. And when we emerged from the sea, some of us came flying out. Or is that in? At any rate, we are here. Watch for the flying fish when you are out to see/sea. When you see one, you will know it is kin to me. A flying fish by any other name is a C. Byrd. A sea bird. Robert C. Byrd."
An example of a typical Caribbean drug operation centered around the NCL port of call. Key West, Florida. Houston took Kelly and me to a nearby tennis court under the guise of playing tennis. In reality, I was to meet with CIA Operative Jimmy Buffett, who devoted more time to the proliferation of CIA criminal covert activity than he did to his music career cover. Buffett was playing tennis. Referring to him as though he were to be my tennis instructor, Houston said,
"There’s your instructor. As soon as he gathers the balls, he should be over here to meet you."
Noticing us, Buffett strode over and shook hands with Houston. "Hi, Jimmy/ Houston said as though they were old buddies.”I, Alex and Elemer," Buffett responded, sarcastically using Houston’s stage name. "Oh," Houston said. Never one to know an insult when he heard it, he continued, "What do your friends call you?" "What does it matter to you?" Buffett asked. "Uncle calls me Jim. I take it you’re not the contact," Houston pointed to me, "She is". "That’s more like it," Buffett smiled. "A little Byrd told me I’d be meeting with a Diamond in the Rough."3
"I prefer a Diamond in the Buff," he said, "I’ve got a studio across the street." As we walked toward his studio, I was oblivious to the meaning behind his conversation with Houston and commented, "I understand you’re an instructor. I wish I had brought my racquet."
"I’m not that kind of an instructor," Buffett explained, "I’m a point man for Uncle. And you’ve got an appointment with me. I have some instructions to give you." As we entered his studio, he said, "Welcome to paradise," and gestured me in.
"Key West is a key place to be. It’s the key to the Caribbean ~ Cuba, Panama ~ anyplace that means anything to Uncle these days, I hold the keys. I’m keeper of the keys and I hold a few of yours."
Looking at his parrot, he continued, "The bird/Byrd says you respond to pair-o-dice, look deep into the parrot eyes.” I did as instructed, and Buffett popped out the bird’s ruby red eyes, which actually were dice, into his hand. "Roll your eyes high while I roll my pair-o-dice," he ordered as he rolled the dice across the table. Stopping at the deck of cards, he picked up the jack of diamonds.
"I am a jack of all trades," he cryptically continued. "And I trade in whatever Uncle orders. An order has been placed. You must follow orders and go to that place. Go to the White House Inn at the pier. Carry your laundry bag (full of cash) with you, and see the man in black. (My Cuban contact almost always wore a conspicuous black trench coat.) There is a launder man on the dock itself.
They do all my laundering for me, and will be expecting you. Watch for the sea-man with the duffel bag. When you see the military green duffel bag, approach the desk. When he says, "I need this laundered, but I do not have the time," you say, "Welcome to Paradise. I will make sure it is cleaned and delivered on time."
Then give him your duffel bag of ’laundry’ and say, "This has been properly laundered for you". Take the duffel bag. It will be light as a feather. Return to the Inn and enjoy the buffet."
Changing modes, Buffett unzipped his shorts as he asked, "Do you like a buffet? I have a Buffett buffet for you now. And it is Paradise!"
It was Houston’s G.E. capacitor scam that provided me insight into the elaborate Long Island docks drug network run by U.S. Congressman Gary Ackerman (D. NY).4 I first met Ackerman in 1981 when Houston was booked into the Woodberry Music Festival with known CIA mind-control victim Loretta Lynn.5
1 NCL cruise ships routinely pass through the so-called "Bermuda Triangle," and Byrd did not miss this opportunity to tap into old programming base installed by Senator L. Bennet Johnston.
2 When Mark and I turned in detailed information on this drug drop to law enforcement, our lives were endangered to the point that a foreign Intelligence officer intervened and subsequently saved our lives through a timely tip-off.
4 Congressman Ackerman’s Caribbean cocaine and Asian heroin operations have not hindered his position on the Congressional Post Office and Civil Service Committees, nor the Asian and Pacific Affairs Committee. It is important to note that, as a matter of Congressional record, Ackerman openly opposed compulsory drug tests for all federal employees.
5 Senator Byrd proudly claimed Loretta as his mind-controlled slave and told me, "I literally made Loretta what she is today, and she is maid to order". Loretta’s son and secondary mind-control handler, Ernest Ray, told me, "I know what the Byrd did to my mother. I can get away with murder... All I gotta do is call him and I’m free as a bird/Byrd."
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