Books, Reviews, Short Stories, Authors, Publicity, a little poetry, music to complement...and other stuff including politics, about life... "Books, Cats: Life is Sweet..."
You. Standing on solid ground, reaching. Me. On the ledge, looking down. All around me, stars. Stars in the sky, the city a field of glittering, distant celestial bodies. Each light a life. Each life a doorway, a possibility. That’s the thing I’ve always loved about my work, the way I can disappear into someone else. I shed myself daily, slipping into other skins. Some of them more comfortable than my own.
“Don’t,” you say. “Don’t do this. It doesn’t have to be this way.” I hear all the notes of desperation and fear that sing discordant and wild, a cacophony in my own heart. And I think that maybe you’re wrong. Maybe everything I am and everything I’ve done, has led me here to this teetering edge. There was no other possible ending. No other way.
Sirens. As distant and faint as birdsong. It seems as if, in this city, they never stop wailing, someone always on their way to this emergency or that crisis. Rushing to help or stop or save. From the outside, it seems like chaos. But when you are inside, it’s quiet, isn’t it? Just another moment.
Only this time the worst thing is about to happen, or might, or might not, to us. Every flicker of light, every passing second, just a shift of weight and another outcome becomes real. “Please.” Under the fear, the pleading of your tone, I hear it—hope. You’re still hopeful. Still holding on to those other possibilities. But when I look at you now, I know—and you know it, too, don’t you?—that I’ve made too many dark choices, that there is no outcome but this one. The one that sets us both free right here and right now.
Pounding. They’re at the door. You know what’s funny? Even on that day we first met, I knew it would end like this. Not really. Not exactly this, not a premonition, or a vision of the future. But even in the light you shined on me, even as you made me be the person I always wanted to be, there was this dark entity hovering, a specter. The destroyer. You were always too good for me, and I knew I could never hold on to the things we would build together.
Sounds rise and converge—your voice, their pounding, that wailing, the endless honking and whir of movement from this place we have lived in and loved. The weight of my body, I close my eyes and feel it. The beating of my heart, the rise and fall of my breath. I tilt and wobble on the edge, as you move closer, hands outstretched. “We’ll be okay,” you whisper. At least I think that’s what you say. I can hardly hear you over all the noise. Your eyes, like the city below me, a swirling galaxy of lights. You’re close now, hand reaching. Just one step forward or backward. Which one? Which one, my love?
~~~
A jazz piano in the corner fills the room with an unfamiliar but lighthearted tune, the young singer’s voice smoky and full of secret laughter. He’s waiting at the bar. I see him right away, though the room is only dimly lit by candles on bistro tables. You are the one for me, the singer croons. There’s no one else. Again, before the man I’ve come to meet sees me, I almost turn and go back to my husband. Paul will never even know I was gone. And if he did, I could just say I slipped out for cigarettes, and he’ll be glad for it because he wanted a smoke after dinner, and we were out. It’s not too late to be the wife I wanted to be. Paul, my husband. I love him. I do. It’s just that he wants to stay in always, and I want—no, I need—to go out. I want to move my body on stage, or anywhere, the music pulsing, desiring eyes on me. He’s quiet, a writer, always thinking about the stories in his head. And me, I don’t come alive until I’m out in the world—talking, laughing, drinking, dancing. He wants to sit by the fire, like we’re old and gray. But the city—with its nightclubs and bars, its stages and bright lights, fancy restaurants and glittering people—it calls to me, especially when the sun goes down.
Unger has given us a multi-genre novel that spectacularly moves from romance for multiple people, a setting that is intriguing both by the architecture with gargoyles and other creepy supernatural activities such as a ghost or two of living in the old hotel, the Windermere. The structure has been occupied by the same people--they purchase a suite--for too many years to count! Throw in pendants with a silver hand with the evil eye stone in its palm that seems to be worn by just about everybody in the hotel, except the main character. Then refer to flashbacks to those who died in the hotel in the past... Shall I keep on going? Seriously, Unger has produced a stunning book that will keep you totally involved as each new page brings something new or unexpected! (see also Heartbroken, another of her fantastic books!)
ACT I the inheritance
Look like the innocent flower,
but be the serpent under it.
William Shakespeare
Macbeth, Act 1, Scene 5
The book begins when we meet the couple who are the main characters, Chad and Rosie. Chad is an actor and Rosie is an author who is trying to work on her next book, while Chad is trying to find a leading, ongoing role... Rosie has just been told that her manuscript is lacking in that "something" that should be there... Her genre is True Crime, which later in the book, finds her contemplating a focus on the hotel and the number of murders that has occurred there. Chad is now off-off broadway and always out auditioning... Rosie was on alert almost from the beginning of their moving in... First of all her sister had called to tell her she had a horrible dream about her and that she was in danger. Then Rosie miscarried... And, she is very concerned about the doorman, Abi, who seems to be everyplace (think Lurch) but rarely responds to Rosie's questions. Abi had been giving Rosie a tour when she had her first scare in the basement, when she saw a small boy, but was told by everybody that there was no children in the building... Soon they were being pulled in to all kinds of activities by the tenants there, even having a celebration when they learned she was pregnant. That was her first fight with Chad, he had promised her that they would keep her pregnancy secret, yet he had told their neighbors... His response to Rosie was not what she wanted to hear... When Rosie learned that the only way to get in and out of the building was to use the elevator which was, also manned by the doorman, Abi, she was finding out more and more about the place and decided that, yes, she wanted to start investigating and writing her book... As she started asking questions, two people were murdered! Was it her fault?
But things got worse from there...
Unger is a well-known author that hones in on suspense of all kinds. In this one, she's won acclaim both from me and many others... Do check out her books if you are not already reading this fantastic writer! Don't miss this one!
During the last months, both of them had been taking care of Chad's only relative Ivan, who lived in Windermere, and recently died. Rosie and Chad had inherited his suite of rooms. This soon becomes a complicated problem since Ivan's estranged daughter plans to sue them, believing that they persuaded her father to give them her expected inheritance!
Rosie has relatives, but is also estranged from them, mainly because they are shysters, but with some talent, of various kinds... Rosie does have a gift that begins to become active after they move into the Windermere...
Around the next corner there’s a crouched form. I almost say her name. Sarah. It’s not Sarah, of course, but a little boy, in a smart school uniform, crisp white shirt and black leather shoes. He’s on the ground, his arms wrapped around his legs, resting his forehead on his knees. I can see the rise and fall of his breath. The blond of his hair glints in the light from my phone. He must be scared, maybe playing in the basement when the lights went out. “Hey,” I say. I didn’t think there were any children in this building. Must be a visiting grandchild. He could have come down the service elevator or the stairs. “It’s okay. The lights will come back on and Abi’s on his way.” I move in closer, reach out a hand to gently touch his back, but as I do, he turns. I reel back in horror. His eyes are gouged out, and his throat is a hideous blue-black. He opens his mouth wide and it’s a maw, its darkness swirling and endless. He issues a horrible shriek that electrifies every nerve ending in my body. I back up into the concrete wall, hitting my head hard against an exposed pipe. My own scream is an echo of his. He moves closer, closer, and I turn to run from him. But the lights come on as suddenly as they went off, and I run right straight into Abi, who comes fast around the corner looking as scared as I feel. “Ms. Lowan,” he says. “Are you hurt? You were screaming.” “There’s a boy,” I say. But I spin and there’s nothing there. “He was right here.” I follow the path of the blood that must be dripping from my own head. But the hallway dead ends at the laundry room—which in the light, looks about as crisp and white and unscary as a place can look. I put a hand to the side of my head. When I draw my fingers back, they’re wet with blood...
Rosie was on alert almost from the beginning of their moving in... First of all her sister had called to tell her she had a horrible dream about her and that she was in danger. Then Rosie miscarried... And, she is very concerned about the doorman, Abi, who seems to be everyplace (think Lurch) but rarely responds to Rosie's questions. Abi had been giving Rosie a tour when she had her first scare in the basement, when she saw a small boy, but was told by everybody that there was no children in the building... Soon they were being pulled in to all kinds of activities by the tenants there, even having a celebration when they learned she was pregnant. That was her first fight with Chad, he had promised her that they would keep her pregnancy secret, yet he had told their neighbors... His response to Rosie was not what she wanted to hear... When Rosie learned that the primary way to get in and out of the building was to use the elevator which was, also manned by the doorman, Abi, she was finding out more and more about the place and decided that, yes, she wanted to start investigating and writing her book... As she started asking questions, two people were murdered! Was it her fault?
But things got worse from there...
Unger is a well-known author that hones in on suspense of all kinds. In this one, she's won acclaim both from me and many others... Do check out her books if you are not already reading this fantastic writer! Don't miss this one!
Notes:
Songs were selected by me based upon the book's content.
I have includes a fairly revelatory paragraph about a ghost. To me, this is similar exposure such as "Chucky" or The Two Twins in The Shining trailers and do not reveal anything of the actual story. If you disagree, let me hear from you in the comments...
Have you heard of Frank Schaeffer? You may want to check out his works on YouTube and elsewhere if you haven't. I went out to determine whether he had commented on the selection of Johnson as the Speaker of the House... And he had... Let's listen to it together... Schaeffer is the son of an evangelist who was active at the time of Billy Graham, but Frank, his son, saw what was happening and withdrew. That is, he was at the meeting where Trump met with Evangelicals and made their deal with him to do what they wanted. Frank has been writing ever since he left that meeting. His knowledge is invaluable such as his knowledge of the most recent judge to the Supreme Court (Barrett). Now he is talking about Johnson about whom I had done some study when he first came in. He shares his thoughts about what it means when it is talked about Make America Great Again (going back to when religion was in control) Frank is blunt, often, but I'd rather have that than the lies and attempted manipulation of those who are using God as a "tool" to pull people in...
As you listen, you will learn that this was discussed prior to the last election. However, as he points out, most of what he shares is based upon his background and study which has provided a basis by which he can say "It Has to Be Said..." (Note that Billy Graham's son is mentioned as being part of this activity - did you know that Trump gave money during Covid stimulus checks to Graham's son.???? Why?)
Mainly I want to highlight what has been said in Project 25, Trump, Musk, and now Johnson, is that there will be a major move to cut back parts of the government. What does that mean? We don't really know, but given the fact that the republicans continue to call Social Security and Medicare as benefits when actually WE have placed part of our checks into those accounts for all of our working lives, we need to keep track of these people! Start listening to those in the republican party... Notice how Johnson discounts the democratic party, even as we know that Biden's has done more for the country than any other president before him... By the way, remember that a Bipartisan group during the Biden's first year created a plan which was moving forward and Trump STOPPED IT BECAUSE HE WANTED THE BORDER TO BE THE MAJOR PROGRAM HE RAN ON... By the way, remember that he actually did nothing toward the actual problem. A wall is NOT what is needed as anybody clearly knows! Find news videos to learn more if you want more information...
Here is Johnson's words highlighted... cut back the size and scope of government (administrative). OK, please take the time to think about what that means... Do YOU work for the government? Then you might be out of a job "just like that!" Be sure you pay attention!
Sorry, what is being said sounds so professional... Remember just one thing...On January 6th, after claiming an unfair election, violence was taken up at the Capitol by republicans...MAGA... People are in jail from that so this cannot be lied away!
At this time, I can only share that with every ounce of my understand of the Truth and Love God asks of us, it did not happened under the last Trump regime... All I suggest is that you keep your eyes open and listen to news that shares what is actually happening... By the way, what happened to separation of church and state? American is open to all religions other than Christian... I, for one, believe that Christ opens his arms to all people... And God gave us free will to CHOOSE... The Constitution clearly says that the government shall provide freedom of religion... Start studying history. Listen closely to Johnson's acceptance speech...
Many came to America where they sought freedom of religion...
But what did Christians do, they cheated native americans trading trinkets for land, for instance... And, forced them into Christian activities rather than their own beliefs... I have come to know as a brother an elder of the Nation and have read his books talking about what happened... This is just one example!
Money and power is not part of the beliefs of the Jesus that I know...
Matthew 19:23-26 King James Version (KJV)Then said Jesus unto his disciples, Verily I say unto you, That a rich man shall hardly enter into the kingdom of heaven. And again I say unto you, It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God.
~~~
Is Accountability no longer a word that will ever be used for republicans? Trump is a convicted felon! Or will the Supreme Court republican majority who are acting independently ignore any oversight. Check out books by Senator Whitehouse (and videos).
At this time I don't know whether he will still be forced to repay the New York civil court indictments...
Also wondering about the awards due to E. Jean Carroll You will recall she had two different juries because Trump continued to defame her after the first judgment!
You know, since so many actions by the incoming president have been ignored, dismissed or overruled and without accountability, I think it is now a time to spotlight exactly what E. Jean Carroll shared about his abuse. Remember she is a celebrity sharing within a funny book...
Before we begin, the two great handicaps to telling you what happened to me in Bergdorf’s are: A) the man I will be talking about—not to mention his team, his lawyers, his party, his friends on Fox News, etc.—will deny it—as he has denied accusations of sexual misconduct made by at least sixteen credible women... namely, (removed from excerpt) and B) I run the risk of making him more popular by revealing what he did. His admirers can’t get enough of hearing that he’s rich enough, lusty enough, and powerful enough to be sued by and to pay off every splashy porn star or Playboy Playmate who “comes forward,” so I can’t imagine how ecstatic the poor saps will be to hear their favorite Walking Phallus got it on with an old lady in the world’s most prestigious department store. There are several facts, however—and I will try to make them as unsexy as possible so as to not turn up the gonadal glow of his base—facts that are so odd that I want to clear them up now before we start: Did I report the attack to the police? No. Did I tell anyone about the attack? Yes. I told two close friends. The first friend, a journalist, writer for New York and Vanity Fair magazines, correspondent on the TV morning shows, author of eight books, etc., begged me to go to the police the night it happened. “He raped you,” she kept repeating when I called her. “He raped you. Go to the police! I’ll go with you. We’ll go together.” She also said several times: “E. Jean, I don’t think this is funny,” because—and this is one of the strangest facts of all—I could not stop laughing. My second friend was also a journalist, a New York anchor-person, whom I saw almost every day at work when I was doing the daily Ask E. Jean show on America’s Talking and the Wrap Up with Steve Doocy (a highlight show featuring clips from America’s Talking, which Roger Ailes ran on the weekends on CNBC).
My friend grew very quiet when I told her, grasped both my hands in her own, and said, “Tell no one. Forget it! He has two hundred lawyers. He’ll bury you.” Do I have photos or any visual evidence? Bergdorf’s security cameras must have picked us up at the Fifty-eighth Street entrance of the store. We would have been filmed on the ground floor in the bags and hats sections. Cameras also must have captured us going up the escalator, walking toward the lingerie department, and no doubt, within the lingerie department. I’m not certain, but I think New York law at the time permitted security cameras in dressing rooms of department stores to “prevent theft.”
The attack occurred almost twenty-four years ago. If it was captured on tape, depending on the position of the camera, it would be very difficult to see the man unzipping his pants because he was wearing a topcoat. The struggle might simply have appeared as “sexy.” During the mid-’90s, before all data was stored in the cloud, even a most painstakingly judicious company like Bergdorf Goodman probably erased the tapes after ninety days. But, maybe, perhaps by some miracle, they have the evidence of the attack collected somewhere. Do I have DNA evidence? I don’t know. I do not believe the man ejaculated. However, I never dry-cleaned the Donna Karan coatdress. It’s still hanging on the back of the door in my closet. Why were there no sales attendants in the lingerie department? Bergdorf Goodman’s perfections are so well known, it is a store so noble, so gracious, so clubby, so posh, that it is almost easier to accept the fact that I was attacked than the fact that, for a very brief period, there was no sales attendant in the lingerie department. Inconceivable is the word. Sometimes a person won’t find a sales attendant in Saks—it’s true—sometimes one has to look for a sales associate in Barneys, Bloomingdale’s, or even Tiffany’s; but 99 percent of the time, you will have an attendant in Bergdorf’s.
All I can say is, I did not—in this fleeting episode—see an attendant. And the other odd thing is that a dressing room door was open. In Bergdorf’s dressing room, doors are usually closed and locked until a client wants to try something on. Why haven’t I “come forward” before now? Receiving death threats, being driven from my home, being dismissed, being dragged through the mud, and joining the sixteen women who’ve come forward with credible stories about how the man grabbed, badgered, belittled, mauled, molested, and assaulted them only to see the man turn it around, deny, threaten, and attack them doesn’t sound like much fun. Also, I’m a coward. Have I suffered mental anguish, depression, anxiety, RTS (rape trauma syndrome), etc., due to the attack? Very little. It was a big event in my life, and very frightening, but the incident has left me strangely untouched. I was slightly disordered immediately after, yes. But I’ve always been blessed with resilience throughout my seven decades, and I only suffer when I think about what unbearable horrors other women may have suffered at his instigation. In fact, I’ve continued to shop at Bergdorf’s. Recently, I bought a pair of Ted Muehling earrings for Robbie Myers, the editor in chief of Elle, when she stepped down after seventeen years of running the magazine, and last week Bergdorf’s filled me to the brim with champagne while (Removed) and I whooped or groaned at my niece (removed) as she tried on wedding dresses—and the attack never entered my head. Indeed, before 2015, when the man began appearing in the papers and on TV daily, I rarely thought of it. When he forced himself on the notice of the entire nation, I, like everyone else, tweeted jokes about him, complained to friends that America was going to hell in a handbasket, and so on. I am fine. I can’t explain it, but I never suffered. If I feel any agony at all, it is when I think that what he did to me in that dressing room is what he is doing today to the country. So, now I will tell you what happened:
This is during the years I’m doing the daily Ask E. Jean TV show, a small hit on the network Roger Ailes starts, called America’s Talking, which soon becomes MSNBC. Bergdorf Goodman, the grand department store, has a side entrance on Fifty-eighth Street, and early one evening, I am going out the revolving door, and one of New York’s most famous men is coming in the revolving door, or it could have been a regular door at that time, I can’t recall,
and he says: “Hey, you’re that Advice Lady!” And I say to #20 on The Most Hideous Men of My Life List: “Hey, you’re that Real Estate Tycoon!” I am surprised at how good-looking he is. We have met once before and, perhaps it is the early evening light, but he looks prettier than ever. This has to be in the fall of 1995 or the spring of 1996, because he’s garbed in a faultless topcoat and I’m wearing my black wool Donna Karan coatdress and high heels, but not a coat. I don’t recall that I’m carrying shopping bags, so I must be—I can’t remember and am guessing—on my way out the door because I’m heading to Barneys to find whatever I can’t get at Bergdorf’s.
“Come advise me,” says the man. “I gotta buy a present.” “Oh!” I say, charmed. “For whom?” “A girl,” he says. “Don’t the assistants of your secretaries buy things like that?” I say. “Not this one,” he says. Or, perhaps, he says, “Not this time.” I can’t recall. He is a big talker, and from the instant we collide, he yammers about himself like he’s Alexander the Great ready to loot the city of Babylon. As we are standing just inside the door, I point to the handbags. “How about—” “No!” he says, making the face where he pulls up both lips like he’s balancing a spoon under his nose, and begins talking about how he once thought about buying Bergdorf’s. “Or … a hat!” I say, enthusiastically, walking toward the handbags, which, at the period I’m telling you about—and Bergdorf’s has been redone two or three times since 1995/96—are mixed in with, and displayed next to, the hats. “She’ll love a hat! You can’t go wrong with a hat!” I don’t remember what he says, but he comes striding along—greeting a Bergdorf sales attendant like he owns the joint and permitting a shopper to gape in awe at him, and goes right for a fur number. “Please,” I say. “No woman would wear a dead animal on her head!” What he replies I don’t recall, but I remember he coddles the fur hat like it’s a baby otter. “How old is the lady in question?” I say. “How old are you?” says the man, fondling the hat and looking at me like Louis Leakey carbon-dating a thighbone he’s found in Olduvai Gorge.
“I’ll tell you my age when you show me your tax return,” is what I wish I had said. It’s now the answer I give to men who ask how old my female friends are when I’m fixing them up on blind dates. So how old am I? If I have run into this man in the fall of 1995 after my birthday, which is December 12, or in the spring of 1996 (I’ve tried; I can’t pin it down any closer), my reply is: “Fifty-two.” “You’re so old!” he says, laughing, and it’s at about this point he drops the hat, looks across the store in the direction of the escalator, and says, “Lingerie!” So we stroll to the escalator. I don’t remember anybody else greeting him or galloping up to talk to him which indicates how very few people are in the store at the time. I have no recollection where lingerie is in the ’95/’96 Bergdorf’s, but it seems to me it is on a floor with the evening gowns and bathing suits, and when the man and I arrive—and my memory now is vivid—no one is present. There are two or three dainty boxes and a lacy, see-through bodysuit of lilac gray on the counter. The man snatches the bodysuit up and says: “Go try this on!”
“You try it on,” I say, laughing. “It’s your color.” “Try it on, come on,” he says, throwing it at me. “It goes with your eyes,” I say, laughing and throwing it back. “You’re in good shape,” he says, holding the filmy thing up against me. “I wanna see how this looks.” “But it’s your size,” I say, laughing and trying to slap him back with one of the boxes on the counter. “Come on,” he says, taking my arm. “Let’s put this on.” “This is gonna be hilarious,” I’m saying to myself—and as I write this, I am staggered by my stupidity. As we head to the dressing rooms, I’m laughing aloud and saying in my mind: I’m gonna make him put this thing on over his pants!
The moment the dressing room door is closed, he lunges at me, pushes me against the wall, bumping my head quite badly, and puts his mouth against my lips. I am so shocked, I shove him back and start laughing again. He seizes both my arms and pushes me up against the wall a second time, bumping my head, and, as I become aware of how large he is, he holds me against the wall with his shoulder and jams his hand under my coatdress and pulls down my tights. I am astonished by what I’m about to write: I keep laughing. The next moment, still wearing correct business attire, shirt, tie, suit jacket, overcoat, he opens the overcoat, unzips his pants, and, forcing his fingers around my private area, then thrusts his penis halfway—or completely, I’m not certain—inside me. It turns into a colossal struggle. I am too frightened to panic. I am wearing a pair of sturdy, black patent-leather, four-inch Barneys high heels. I try to stomp his foot. I try to push him off with my one free hand—for some reason I keep holding my purse with the other—and I finally get a knee up high enough to push him out and off, and I turn, open the door, and run out of the dressing room.
The whole episode lasts no more than two or three minutes. I don’t remember if any person or attendant is now in the lingerie department. I don’t remember if I run for the elevator or if I take the slow ride down on the escalator. As soon as I land on the main floor, I run through the store and out the door—I don’t recall which door—and find myself outside on Fifth Avenue.
And that’s it. I’ve never had sex with anybody ever again.
7 “So, have you had time to think?” I say, bumping into the young woman with blond-gold hair in front of the Angelica post office. “What Do We Need Men For?” “Nothing,” she says. “Nooooooothinnnnnnng!” warbles the little girl. “I like men,” says the young woman. “Oh!” I say. “Men have written great symphonies and painted great pictures. I just don’t think they should run everything.” “I like men,” says the young woman, “but anything I need them for, I can do myself.” “Can you fix your washing machine?” I ask. “No. I have to call a man.” “I watched three YouTube videos,” I say, “and fixed mine myself!” “See?” says the young woman. Up comes her chin. “That’s what I mean!” she says. “We don’t need ’em!” P.S. Re: The Garbage Can with Pet Lock: After I tossed Elsbeth in the trash, I started thinking of her shut inside with the discarded cat treat containers, forsaken shredded cheese packages, forlorn bread wrappers, dead Eucerin Intensive Repair jars, etc., etc., with her little trunk raised up, crying, her beautiful headdress of gold tassels being tossed about, and I could not stand it! I retrieved her and put her high up on the top shelf of the bookcase, where she is now quite happy. P.P.S. Instead of blackberry pie, I bought a pizza to split with Lewis. I forgot to get Lisa’s present. XII
Now I have to tell you about my own story about how women can be so gullible...until we realize!!! So E. Jean Carroll put a page up on Facebook. I always check to see if an author I've read and reviewed are there and I give them a copy of my review if they had not requested the review... I enjoyed the book, loving her interactions and discussions about whether women actually need men... So I was commenting a lot that day on her page. And then went on to my next book...
I then got a message directly and the writer (you guessed it--it wasn't E.Jean) started talking to me, thanking me for my review and comments, etc. Well, I was flattered... Not only did I have great sympathy for her being attacked by the only man I despise starting with the infamous video... but I was a little starstruck... LOL
Anyway, we shared some messages on FB-- normal type of getting to know you...then I was asked to get another communication tool since I was told she knew she could trust me, but wanted to talk about something private... Ok I was dumb enough to get the program and loaded it on my desktop where I normally work... and we began to talk more... Then I was told that she wanted me to help her decide how to spend the millions she would be getting... I began to wonder, but kept on interacting...alert by this time...and then I cornered the person finally and got a confession that the individual wanted to be my friend, etc. I thought at that time I might know who it was but didn't bother further... I closed out the discussion, deleted the program from my computer...
...and immediately wanted to talk to E. Jean... Just kidding... Yes, she's an advice columnist, or was, but I'm pretty savvy normally that I don't get caught in those types of problems... Hey, I did love her book--it is soooo funny! Hope you check it out! In any event, a final warning... always be alert with contacts made online... Who knows. it might be the president who is on the prowl...
Accountability... As you may have guessed by now, I am quite fed up these days about the fact that the incoming president has gotten away with so many criminal actions that everybody knows what this man is all about--money, power...and use of sex... I am reminded about a comment from a chairman of Political Science with whom I worked related to student registration and classroom scheduling. He had started talking about some politician who was in the news about something or other...sex... I flippantly commented that happens so often with men in America... He looked at me and said, "But, don't you think those in the government should be above any activities that are criminal in nature if they are in control of our money--our lives? (I've expanded this statement to cover the discussion thereafter) It was a learning experience for me. Here is a man who teaches and directs the activities of those who are learning and planning to work in public service, and he considered it part of his role in letting it be known that the moral character of those we elect is the most important thing to be considered.
How I wish more citizens would think about that... But, more, yesterday I talked about a need to do something about the 1st Amendment and putting some restraints on it, especially for those in public service! Do You Agree? Leave a comment, I'd be happy to talk about it...
The funeral for former President Carter is beginning today, but I wanted to share an earlier video. I wanted to point out one major fact. He was a Christian who led a life of service. He lost his second term in office to Ronald Reagan... I've been reading about the comparison between the productivity of these two in office. Interesting reading if you want to start learning about exactly what the republican party has done for America...in comparison to the other party... Just my opinion of course... I hope you all are aware that President Carter and his wife, when he was not reelected, immediately moved on to further serve the world as God led him... Think about it...what did Trump do when he lost his second term in 2020? A world of difference... Actions speak louder than words, don't they?
Took a lunch break and finished watching The Last Word... I was excited to learn and wanted to help let people know that two Black women have been elected into the Senate of Congress! This will be ONLY three who will have served. Folks, I think I know why Biden chose to pull back from his second term, aside from the fact that some of his own party were worried...I think he wanted to get the logical next president into office--Kamala Harris. And, folks, I want to share my real concern about the undercurrent of white supremacy still going on in America... It is quite clear that part of the issue with the border is the fact that all immigrants coming in from the south border are non-white... Recently, the issue of VISAS came up and a dispute with Elon Musk holding one side of the issue that he claims he will fight for having visas used to bring any technically-trained individuals into America... Maybe I'm the only one that remembers that Trump, when talking about immigrants, was quick to point out that he would welcome those with expertise needed for America--and also preferably from Switzerland and other "white" people countries... I hope you also know that when he and his father was renting apartments in New York that he was sued for trying to keep Blacks out of their buildings... Yeah, I call that racist all his life, no matter what anybody else says...
On the other hand, I remember what was said when the bridge on the East Coast was demolished... It was immigrant laborers who worked night and day to get that project down in record time... This is just one example that can be told!
Just for a lighter closeout since I've been getting into some "deep" issues, I found this video which seems to be very well done... by an excellent presenter! Note that, the video has sections by which you can review specific issues! Very scientific... And, by the way, you may recall from The Light of the World, the authorstates that Joshua is a better interpretation of Jesus' name...This video explains this and confirms that Joshua in the Bible also uses the same spelling... Isn't it wonderful just how much you can find out if you start...
Greetings from wintry Austin, Texas! The Christmas season is upon us, and our house lights are now up to help proclaim the good news of this wonderful season. To me, Christmas is always a season of hope, no matter how cold and dark it is. May this Christmas season be a blessing to you.
As many of you know, Square Pegs is available for rental or purchase on Amazon Prime. For those who have not seen it and wish to do so, here is the link: https://www.amazon.com/gp/video/detail/B0CW57JFSH/ .
LOGLINE: When animosities between a pastor and his bartender daughter result in a lawsuit between them, a mediating judge orders them to swap roles at work for a week before pronouncing judgment.
The film has already won twelve film festival awards, including “Best Picture” and awards for best screenplay. For a writer like me, this is one of the best “presents” of all, and I am so grateful film festival judges have acknowledged the movie for its storytelling merit and timely message of reconciliation. As one person took time to write, “This is a wonderful story of hope that is packed with emotional depth, healing, humor, and some beautiful performances.”
For those who have already watched the movie on Prime, please leave your “star” rating on Amazon using that same link. Just click the “DETAILS” tab beneath the rent or buy options, and you will be taken to the page where you can rate (or even review) the movie. Rating the movie should take you no more than a minute, so PLEASE rate it if you have not already done so. It really helps Amazon feature the movie as a suggested choice. For our Aussie friends and family (or others living outside the US or UK, where Prime is offering the movie), you can now rent or buy the movie via this link: https://squarepegsmovie.com/ .
As far as my intrepid hero Talanov goes, my latest book, INTO THE EYE, is slated for its 2025 release after my long hiatus for Square Pegs. This political action thriller will take you into the heart of Africa on Talanov’s greatest adventure yet, where our hero again tackles human traffickers and DC corruption. Into the Eye will be the fourth book in the modern Talanov quadrilogy ... or is it tetralogy? Hmmm ...
In the meantime, have a WONDERFUL Christmas and Happy New Year. Blessings one and all.
I always like to keep up-to-date on what James Turner is into--it's amazing just how much this man can get done, as you can see! Actually, I'm waiting for Talanov, a character I kinda became a super fan of Talanov with his first book, so I'm looking forward to reading the latest this year! If you haven't read any of his books, do a search on either Talanov or James Turner in the right column and get prepared for his newest... If you fall as deep as I did, you should get all of the previous books to catch up before the next one is out... Do you do that type of reading? I do! And I've got many series with reviews on my blog! Remember, books never go out of date!
By the way, now reading nonfiction book re Facebook... Will be talking about it soon... Next I'll be talking about a Magnificent Mystery!
~~~
Sorry to say, I'm not quite sure I should wish everybody a Happy New Year. Yes, I wish it would be true, but given the two attacks that occurred in the last two days, people continue to be killed, one in front of one of Trump's buildings, I have to think that it will be just like his last 4 years. Lying during the election and then not doing one damn thing unless it is forced...
First, if I may, I'd like you to, first, read yesterday's post if you haven't done so. It is heartbreaking as well as a warning! You will learn just how the government has acted when a leader chooses power over the people of this country... Given Project 25, it could be even worse beginning in January!
Anybody who knows me knows that I am/was a Biden supporter and wish it had continued in his plan to run again. He didn't have a chance when his own party started questioning him, based upon one activity! Sorry to say. Nevertheless, I continued to support the democratic party because I have seen that the republican party is, frankly, worthless at this point in time. I was an avid news watcher during the former Trump term. I really didn't think he would win again. Frankly, it set me back into a major depression that I am just now getting out of. I hope you agree with me that America MUST do something about clarifying the First Amendment! I could not set my mind to important things--I wound up watching many, too many, Christmas stories on the Hallmark Channel, which normally I only occasionally watch. I also now watch very little news after the election other than The Last Word (see below) which is a MSNBC program which I tape and then watch first thing in the morning to see what happened the previous day... When I tried to watch others, I couldn't deal with the "crap" I was hearing about who was being selected for Secretaries! Do you realize that every single individual is questionable for either experience or for past actions. Please use some time to learn more about what is happening. E.G., trying to put a young news person from Fox in as Secretary of the Defense!!! Or, check out what happened with the Attorney General and who is being recommended for FBI--whose plans are to totally dismantle the central FBI facility...and more!
I couldn't help but compare the incoming president to the Great Wizard of Oz (original). Let's face it, actors rarely make worthy presidents...
“Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.”
Let's take a lookat the word abridging... With a brief lookup of meaning I got this
Most of us have heard that it is, for instance, illegal to say "FIRE" in a crowded place if it is not true. In other words, if YOU LIE and say there is a fire which causes a panic! But let's exam this further:
“Congress shall make no law . . . abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press.” What does this mean today? Generally speaking, it means that the government may not jail, fine, or impose civil liability on people or organizations based on what they say or write, except in exceptional circumstances.
Although the First Amendment says “Congress,” the Supreme Court has held that speakers are protected against all government agencies and officials: federal, state, and local, and legislative, executive, or judicial. The First Amendment does not protect speakers, however, against private individuals or organizations, such as private employers, private colleges, or private landowners. The First Amendment restrains only the government.
The Supreme Court has interpreted “speech” and “press” broadly as covering not only talking, writing, and printing, but also broadcasting, using the Internet, and other forms of expression. The freedom of speech also applies to symbolic expression, such as displaying flags, burning flags, wearing armbands, burning crosses, and the like.
The Supreme Court has held that restrictions on speech because of its content—that is, when the government targets the speaker’s message—generally violate the First Amendment. Laws that prohibit people from criticizing a war, opposing abortion, or advocating high taxes are examples of unconstitutional content-based restrictions. Such laws are thought to be especially problematic because they distort public debate and contradict a basic principle of self-governance: that the government cannot be trusted to decide what ideas or information “the people” should be allowed to hear.
There are generally three situations in which the government can constitutionally restrict speech under a less demanding standard.
1. In some circumstances, the Supreme Court has held that certain types of speech are of only “low” First Amendment value, such as:
a. Defamation: False statements that damage a person’s reputations can lead to civil liability (and even to criminal punishment), especially when the speaker deliberately lied or said things they knew were likely false.New York Times v. Sullivan (1964).
b. True threats: Threats to commit a crime (for example, “I’ll kill you if you don’t give me your money”) can be punished.Watts v. United States (1969).
c. “Fighting words”: Face-to-face personal insults that are likely to lead to an immediate fight are punishable. Chaplinsky v. New Hampshire (1942). But this does not include political statements that offend others and provoke them to violence. For example, civil rights or anti-abortion protesters cannot be silenced merely because passersby respond violently to their speech. Cox v. Louisiana (1965).
d. Obscenity: Hard-core, highly sexually explicit pornography is not protected by the First Amendment. Miller v. California (1973). In practice, however, the government rarely prosecutes online distributors of such material.
e. Child pornography: Photographs or videos involving actual children engaging in sexual conduct are punishable, because allowing such materials would create an incentive to sexually abuse children in order to produce such material.New York v. Ferber (1982).
f. Commercial advertising: Speech advertising a product or service is constitutionally protected, but not as much as other speech. For instance, the government may ban misleading commercial advertising, but it generally can’t ban misleading political speech. Virginia Pharmacy v. Virginia Citizens Council (1976).
Outside these narrow categories of “low” value speech, most other content-based restrictions on speech are presumptively unconstitutional. Even entertainment, vulgarity, “hate speech” (bigoted speech about particular races, religions, sexual orientations, and the like), blasphemy (speech that offends people’s religious sensibilities), and violent video games are protected by the First Amendment. The Supreme Court has generally been very reluctant to expand the list of “low” value categories of speech.
2. The government can restrict speech under a less demanding standard when the speaker is in a special relationship to the government. For example, the speech of government employees and of students in public schools can be restricted, even based on content, when their speech is incompatible with their status as public officials or students. A teacher in a public school, for example, can be punished for encouraging students to experiment with illegal drugs, and a government employee who has access to classified information generally can be prohibited from disclosing that information. Pickering v. Board of Education (1968).
3. The government can also restrict speech under a less demanding standard when it does so without regard to the content or message of the speech. Content-neutral restrictions, such as restrictions on noise, blocking traffic, and large signs (which can distract drivers and clutter the landscape), are generally constitutional as long as they are “reasonable.” Because such laws apply neutrally to all speakers without regard to their message, they are less threatening to the core First Amendment concern that government should not be permitted to favor some ideas over others. Turner Broadcasting System, Inc. v. FCC (1994). But not all content-neutral restrictions are viewed as reasonable; for example, a law prohibiting all demonstrations in public parks or all leafleting on public streets would violate the First Amendment. Schneider v. State (1939).
Courts have not always been this protective of free expression. In the nineteenth century, for example, courts allowed punishment of blasphemy, and during and shortly after World War I the Supreme Court held that speech tending to promote crime—such as speech condemning the military draft or praising anarchism—could be punished. Schenck v. United States (1919). Moreover, it was not until 1925 that the Supreme Court held that the First Amendment limited state and local governments, as well as the federal government. Gitlow v. New York (1925).
But starting in the 1920s, the Supreme Court began to read the First Amendment more broadly, and this trend accelerated in the 1960s. Today, the legal protection offered by the First Amendment is stronger than ever before in our history.
As an individual living during the 60s, I have the opinion to say that we have gone too far in free speech use, without restrictions. When I was on campus working with the use of facilities there, we designated specific spaces where "free speech" could be held. Speaking out against war, or more recently, when students were angry because of Israel's actions against innocents, were, in my opinion, is authorized, as long as it did not lead to violence (which in some cases this past year it did)... We need to start dealing with ACCOUNTABILITY!
Please take the time to read the above carefully... You may want to even refer to laws that were based on various issues. Now, let's consider a specific example which caused and is still causing extreme damage (in my opinion) to America. When the Supreme Court Justices nominated by Trump were interviewed in the Senate, they were specifically asked about Roe Vs. Wade. Two of those individual openly stated that they would not vote to change that law (Kavanaugh and Amy Coney Barrett). I didn't do a double-check on those who voted to overthrow Roe, but I know these two did because many Senators have pointed out that they lied during their Senate review activities). As we know this change has caused not only anger but lives have been lost due to the laws that have been made by states based upon the Roe decision. All of this was preventable!
Allowing politicians to LIE is just plain wrong! Morally if not legally. Do we really want to go through even more elections where the republican candidates lie to gain votes?! Isn't this something that We MUST start paying attention to? By the way, have you also begun wondering about whether Musk "bought" Trump? Check out what happened in next video.
~~~
Isn't it about time to get Civics taught in public schools again?! To restrain Freedom of Speech for politicians especially?!
Memories of MK-Ultra is a novel based upon the author's actual experiences. Because of the topic, I have included 3 videos, more available, from YouTube, together with the book description from the book seller. Millions already knew about the atrocities placed upon the Jewish Population under the regime of Hitler. Even when the War was over, there was an ongoing program under governmental action stated to "study" what had occurred and what could be done to prevent such actions in the future. The study was under the auspices of the Central Intelligence Agency. World domination has been a goal of many and various countries since the beginning of time. These attempts have been initiated by men called Strongmen. Defined as a leader who rules by the exercise of threats, force, or violence. There have been attempts to overthrow countries who have achieved freedom for its people, especially. These attempts, as of now, include Ukraine, Israel, et. al.
Inspired by the Author's Actual Experiences
The mystery of what they endured as children took a lifetime to unravel.
Tommy, Beth, and Curtis Matthews are young children forced to take part in life-altering experiments in the late 1950s. They are placed in MK-ULTRA, a covert CIA mind-control program that is designed to create super soldiers or spies. The experience dramatically impacts their lives, but they don’t remember any of it—at least not right away. As Beth, Tommy, and Curtis Matthews come of age through the turbulent 60s and into the 80s, invisible strings pull them toward their preordained destinies.
Dr. Rudolph Holtzmann, the Nazi-trained psychiatrist in charge of their CIA program, harbors a secret agenda to turn Tommy into a future world leader, but Holtzmann's work is compromised by dangerous forces surrounding him and by one of his experimental subjects, a Mexican boy with shamanic gifts.
When the MK-ULTRA program is aborted, the siblings are left deeply damaged without access to the memories that can free them. It takes Curtis's psychotic breakdown and Beth's startling vision to open up the pathways to their buried past. These developments lead to the detective work of Lynn Snyder, a diligent therapist—but will it be enough to unravel the hidden tapestry of deception?
The first book of a trilogy, Memories of MK-ULTRA opens a window into the multiple dimensions of the human mind and soul and forces us to question our limitations in understanding reality itself.
~~~
Since we engage in trauma-based mind control,
this practice fits in with our program.”
The chair sat in the center of an otherwise empty room. Behind Holtzmann stood his aide, Bauer, holding a butcher knife, poised to inflict whatever torment his master commanded. The next phase of 24’s programming would begin. Holtzmann went back and forth on whether to start it. From a family bloodlines standpoint, 24 was one of the best four-year-olds to come through the doors of the Gateway School—as the Brüderschaft made unequivocally clear. Unfortunately, the boy’s programming met with one setback after another, and any sane scientist would write him off as an unjustifiable risk. Yet Holtzmann remained hopeful. 24’s behavior was almost normal. He scared easily, especially if he glimpsed Kunz, and he developed a slight stutter. But he displayed resilience too. No matter what happened, he came back the next day replenished, as if a miracle wand whisked his traumas away. Holtzmann had decided it’d be worth it to continue the programming, having finished one key phase already. After several rounds of electroshock, he’d hypnotized 24 with the suggestion his destiny was to become president, associating it with rock ‘n’ roll music. But there must be a threat as well—the warning of a dire fate if 24 didn’t succeed. Nothing fueled ambition better. Holtzmann would associate the threat with things 24 would see in everyday life, like clocks, stoves, knifes, bathtubs, birds, fires, and so on. Holtzmann smiled. “Tommy, what do you want to become when you grow up?” 24’s eyes grew dull, his voice robot-like. “President.” “Excellent. Do you know what will happen to you if you don’t become president?” 24 shook his head. “I’ll tell you. In the future, there is a presidential election, but you’re not in it. You’ve never run for president and never will. You failed to carry out your life’s mission. You failed to defeat Communism and free Eastern Europe. As a result, someone will slice your neck open with a butcher knife.” He paused, watching 24’s eyes dilate into blue orbs, and said, “I see a knife above you now.” Bauer gripped a fistful of the boy’s yellow hair and yanked his head back, exposing his throat to the blade, which loomed like a guillotine ready to fall. 24’s eyes grew enormous, almost popping out of their sockets, as he gaped at the butcher knife glittering in the overhead light. Somewhere outside, a dog barked. The knife inched down. 24 struggled, kicking his legs and pinwheeling his arms, while his jaws worked, as if trying to scream. “There is no escape for you, Tommy. You should have done what we told you. You should have become president, freed Eastern Europe, and destroyed Communism. You should have—” 24 shrieked. Holtzmann winced. “Okay, okay. You don’t have to die, but you must make a promise.” The boy continued shrieking. “Stop and listen.” The command didn’t register. “Take the knife away,” Holtzmann demanded. Bauer moved the knife behind his back. 24 fell silent, his eyes glassy. “That’s better,” Holtzmann said. He gazed into the boy’s eyes and felt a sudden warmth for this youth who’d one day free East Germany and Eastern Europe from Communism. A sort of fatherly love crept into him . . . until he noticed something was wrong. 24 stared back with mute indifference. He’d fallen into a catatonic state. “Verdammt.” If Kunz hadn’t committed murder in front of 24, this would’ve never happened.
When you bomb the houses of bad people, you’ve done something good—in fact, you’ve done something so good you’ll make God happy.
You want to make God happy, don’t you?”
January 1960—Magdalene County, Maryland Life was good—almost magical. At least, it felt like it to Tommy as he stood beside Dad in their backyard on a cold and clear winter day. “You put the trash in this way,” Dad said while he stuffed smelly garbage into a large, mesh-wire can. “Don’t let any of it drop to the ground.” Yesterday had been Tommy’s sixth birthday, and Dad said, “You’re old enough to help burn the trash.” Tommy was thrilled. He’d done a lot of things with Dad since they returned from Germany five months ago. “I’m delighted you’re all back,” Dad kept saying. “I felt so lonely and miserable without you.” Mom acted better too and teased with Dad in ways Tommy had never noticed before. Thankfully, Beth had recovered from the strange sickness that overcame her during their hike to the castle. The German doctor who treated Beth never came up with a diagnosis, other than to repeatedly mumble, “Sonderbar.” “We need to make room for more trash,” Dad said while shoving more garbage into the trashcan. He emptied another load of rubbish from a paper sack. Next, he would light a fire, let the trash burn for a while, then throw the ashes down a gully a few yards away. Tommy had watched Dad burn trash countless times—one of the many neat things they did in the country. The Matthews had moved into their new home in Magdalene County last year. A small, white clapboard house, it stood amid a cluster of trees on Rural Route 49, which stretched over one of the many hills lining the Magdalene River. The house didn’t overlook the river though. It was too far down the road to have a view. The big houses where the rich people lived on Jackson Road held the magnificent views. But a brief walk down from their house led to the sandy beaches by the saltwater river, which emptied into the Chesapeake Bay. Jackson Road ran alongside the river, and, if you turned left, you’d soon arrive at Magdalene Junior College, where Dad worked as the librarian. A forest ran up to the Matthews’ backyard, and their dogs loved to roam through it. They’d arrived there with only one dog, Constantine, but it didn’t take long to pick up two other strays, which they named after much talk Pentonia and Fluffy.
Tommy discovered the fun of country living after returning from Germany, which for reasons that now puzzled him he didn’t remember doing when they first moved here. He and Curtis now played make-believe games in the forest, swam in the Magdalene River, and raced their bikes up and down Route 49. They enjoyed other delights too. Beth told endless ghost stories, showing off her drawings of the scariest scenes, often bragging she could see ghosts. But neither Tommy nor Curtis believed her. “Stay clear,” Dad said, “so I can light the fire.” “Can I do it?” Tommy asked. “No, it’s too windy.” “Please, I’ll be careful.” “Oh, all right. Here’s the matchbox.” Tommy took the matches. In his mind’s eye, he transformed the garbage-stuffed trashcan into a grand city. He lit the first match, imagining it was a firebomb, and dropped it on top of a squashed cereal box, pretending it was a magnificent church. He stared, spellbound, while the flames spread. Lighting another match, he tossed it on a crumpled newspaper, fancying it was an elementary school. He smiled, feeling a warm glow in his chest. He hated kindergarten and feared first grade would be worse. Yes, this beat destroying toy cities. He and Curtis continued the bombing games they’d begun in Germany and built cities to destroy almost daily. Their pastime bothered Beth. “The excitement you have bombing cities is sick,” she said. But her comments didn’t stop them. “Frank,” Mom shouted from the back porch, “Greg Weaver’s on the phone.” “Tell him I’m coming,” Dad said then faced Tommy. “Watch the fire. Make sure the sparks don’t fly into the trees, and come and get me if they do.” “Okay, Dad, I’ll be real careful.” “Good, I’ll be back soon.” He marched off. Tommy didn’t think he’d be back soon, since Dad and his best buddy, Mr. Weaver, could talk for hours. Tommy liked his wife, Mrs. Weaver, who babysat Beth, Curtis, and him whenever Mom and Dad did grown-up stuff. He returned his gaze toward the trashcan as it burst into flames, the flickering fire matching his blazing excitement within. While the smoke blew against his face, he stood in a trance until the last flames flickered out. He didn’t plan to tell anyone about his new game. It was a secret thing.
Crenshaw held up his classified paper. “American psychiatrists report outstanding success in using electroshock on schizophrenic patients to erase pathological thinking patterns, so they can replace them with rational thoughts. We’re using electroshock similarly. Erase the memories and beliefs we don’t want and replace them with those we do.” Crenshaw tossed the classified paper down. “But there’s no need to stop there. Assaulting the brain with psychoactive drugs, psychological trauma, isolation, and the like can also put the mind into a suggestible state. The mind may even fracture into pieces, giving us the chance to create sub-personalities.” Crenshaw grinned. “We can then plant secret missions in the sub-personalities unknown to the primary personality. Such tactics will ensure our spies, saboteurs, and assassins are unaware of the clandestine assignments we give them, so they’ll have nothing to divulge during interrogations.” Holtzmann took in a slow breath. “So how do I fit in?” Crenshaw lowered his voice. “We’ve experimented predominately with adults, but we want to expand our experiments with children beyond those in mental hospitals, juvenile halls, and with disadvantaged backgrounds. It’s vital we create super soldiers and spies for the future. Given your experience with the Hitler Youth, we think you’d be ideal to lead this effort.” “You have my interest,” Holtzmann said. “How will you structure this effort?” “We’ve created a private entity called the Gateway School. We’ll funnel funds to it through a bogus foundation and various front groups that we’ll camouflage in our records.” Crenshaw leaned forward. “We have four conditions if you accept our offer. First, since you’re currently juggling a professorship at the University of Leipzig with a private psychiatric practice in Germany, we want you to juggle your work for the CIA with a psychiatric practice here. If people ask you what you do, you can honestly say you’re a practicing psychiatrist, and any investigations would bear that out.” “And your other conditions?” “You’ll report to me. We’ll provide your test subjects and staffing, and you’ll implement the experiments we want. We will borrow many from promising MK-ULTRA subprojects involving adults. Any other questions?” “One. With America’s undisputed military might, wouldn’t the Gateway School become dispensable at the first hiccup?” Crenshaw sucked in his cheeks then exhaled. “Not a chance. In the early days of World War II, a lot of us in the military and intelligence community feared Germany and Japan would clobber us. Our military was weak. Nothing we did in the early going worked. And you could see defeat growing in our soldiers’ eyes.” Crenshaw shook his head. “It scared us shitless. If we’d lost, fascism would’ve engulfed the planet and destroyed our country. We vowed never to fall behind again. Given the nuclear arsenals of the United States and Soviet Russia, no one can win a nuclear exchange. But one side can win a psychological contest. We’re convinced that’s how the Cold War will be decided, and the Russians and Chinese are ahead. If it means using unsavory methods to catch up, so be it. Our nation’s survival depends on it.” Holtzmann accepted Crenshaw’s offer to lead the Gateway School as the Brüderschaft instructed him. But Holtzmann believed Americans had a tendency to go overboard with the latest rage, be it teenagers listening to appalling music or the CIA trying to outwit the communists. Now, eighteen months after their initial meeting, Holtzmann considered Crenshaw’s technique of unrelenting shocks to the brain via electroshock, drugs, isolation, and other methods to be cruel and useless, no more than a zombie-producing machine. Holtzmann proposed his own approach, based on an ageless knowledge he perfected during his years with the Hitler Youth, and luckily Crenshaw agreed. Holtzmann planned to use one on subject 24 as soon as Reba Baldwin arrived. But today he was obliged to stick with a milder version of Crenshaw’s technique. Helmut Bauer, Holtzmann’s heavyset aide, was fetching subject 25, the Matthews toddler, and Holtzmann would try to transform him into a fighting machine. After two days of electroshock and sleep deprivation—as opposed to weeks as Crenshaw prescribed—the boy’s brain should be susceptible to mold. Holtzmann planned to hypnotize 25 with the suggestion he was a born soldier then reinforce it with tape-recorded messages. He wanted to maintain the illusion he was dedicated to developing super soldiers and spies. After a sudden knock, his study door swung open, and Bauer stepped in with 25. Holtzmann rose from his desk and stepped toward the boy. What a waste.
Two weeks later, Mom peered through the front picture window on a snowy January morning. “It looks like a winter wonderland out there,” she said. Tommy, Beth, and Curtis stood beside her in the living room of their country house, decked out with the same green sofa, two blue chairs, and the great cuckoo clock from their old house in Arlington Park. “I wanna play in the snow,” Curtis hollered as he bounced about on the wooden floor, rattling a china bowl on the coffee table. Mom turned from the window. “Settle down, Curtis. Don’t you want to listen to another record from our new collection? We’ll go out when it’s warmer.” Mom and Dad had ordered an album set called The Wonders of Music. When it arrived yesterday, Mom played the children’s songs, patriotic tunes, and American folksongs. Tommy liked them all. “I wanna play another record.” “Yeah, me too,” Beth said. Curtis shrugged, apparently not too bothered the music won out over the snow. Mom thumbed through the album jackets, each covered with happy, singing faces. “So, which one?” She paused. “How about Beer Barrel Polka?” “What kinda music is that?” Tommy asked. “You’ll see.” She slid the glossy record out of its jacket and placed it on their blue and white portable record player. Suddenly, a bouncy melody blared out. Nobody danced at first, then suddenly they started at the exact same time. With complete abandonment, the three kids lunged into a wild dance, shaking the hardwood floor. They swirled about, leapt in the air, and wobbled heads and arms, like rag dolls shaken silly by a child. They burst into giggles while their faces turned goofy. Mom’s mouth dropped. If it’d just been Curtis, she probably wouldn’t have reacted—he had a habit of losing himself in physical exhilaration—but Tommy and Beth didn’t go nuts at the flip of a switch. Without thinking, Tommy twirled and twisted his body while shaking his head, arms, and legs—as if under a spell. He didn’t stop, couldn’t stop, until the song ended. Then he collapsed, panting, on the floor. So did Beth and Curtis. “What brought that on?” Mom asked. “I wanna hear the next one,” Tommy said. “Yeah, yeah. Another one,” Curtis shouted. The following song started, and they jumped to their feet again and frolicked while the knickknacks on the metal bookcase clanged about, as if in the midst of an earthquake. Mom leaned back and watched them lose themselves in the lively music. They carried on for three more songs before they tumbled, exhausted, to the floor. Though struggling to catch his breath, Tommy never felt so alive. It reminded him of those times when he ran through the forest without worrying about today or tomorrow, feeling a part of everything. After a while, they went out in the snow and had a fine time building a snowman family, decorating them with clothes from the front hall closet, a gray coat for the dad, a plaid scarf for the mom, and red mittens for the kids. Mom took a picture as they stood before their grand creation. Although their high spirits had faded, a pleasant feeling lingered in Tommy’s chest, and when they came inside, he didn’t want to play bombing games or burn the trash. Mom asked him once more why they’d broken into the wild dancing, but he couldn’t think of an answer. She smiled. "Maybe it’s in your German blood."
It is hard for me and, I am sure, many others, to learn for the first time that, during my lifetime, the government was involved in research activity in which children were the participants. Sure, by now, I had learned that research had been done on adult soldiers--and that was bad enough! Reading this book may give many of you information that, in many ways, you would prefer never to have known. Even as I finished the book, I didn't want to write about it until after the celebration of Christmas, in all of its many different forms, in addition to spotlighting the birth of Jesus Christ...
Simply because the use of religion has been used in many ways to induce fear, often leading to violence...
Still, now in, what will soon be 2025, it is hard to accept exactly what is being done here in America and across the world... Why do these things happen over and over and over? In my opinion, these types of things occur under the guise that it is for the good of the country (or, as one quote above stated, "for God." As information is being distributed and available more than ever before, we learn just how much we have strayed from God's guidance to Love Our Neighbor...To Speak Truth.
Indeed, as we examine all history, we soon conclude that religion has been a major, if not the only reason, to which we can attribute what is done when man turns against...man... As I read this book, I was often reminded of what has happened in America, outwardly, from about 2015. I'll be sharing my correlations as I write...
And so it was that, a Nazi-trained psychiatrist was put in charge of the research project initiated through the CIA. As we read, we learn that he, himself, has specific goals that are beyond those within the project he was heading... But we also learn that others have concurrent activities with these same research subjects, are led by others... which could affect, if not damage the results of the project initially planned... But what does that mean?
Yarborough uses one family as the central point of this novel. That family has three children of different ages and the parents have allowed their children to attend a special school--Gateway School. One of the leaders involved explained it this way: “We’ve guaranteed the Gateway School will create fantastic futures for their kids and offered them a nice sum of money. They gulped it all down.”
The children were assigned numbers and for many were known only by that number. A chapter begins entitled Tommy's (24) Introduction - Are You Sure What's Real? Indeed that is the singular reflection of what you will be reading... How will Tommy know what is real? In relation to today? Half of America knows for a fact that not all Americans are getting the same information. This is being done through various means, including news agencies. Is it not a fact, then, that the brain manipulation that was done through the Gateway School, was that they used drugs and music, for instance, to affect the minds of each child... and was not openly known to the recipients--some not even old enough to comprehend what was happening! A much more heinous activity... One interaction is shared of a child (24) after he had gone back to his home:
The next day, during lunch, Sheri walked up to Tommy in the cafeteria and handed him his engraved ring. He started. “Why are you giving me this?” “Nita wants to break up with you.” “How come?” Sheri avoided his gaze. “Nita says you never kissed her and figures you don’t care for her much.” He flinched, as if she called him a nasty name. “Okay,” he said then stalked off, experiencing a mixture of rejection, embarrassment, and shame that Sheri—and probably everyone else at school—knew of his failure. That night, wallowing in humiliation, he thrashed around in his bed, pretending to be in the mouth of a monstrous creature. He still engaged in the destructive imaginary games he started in Maryland. Now, while he stroked himself, he imagined the creature’s massive jaws chomping down. He kept it up longer than normal until a substance shot out of his penis. At first, it felt good. Then creepy. Did he do something wrong? Confused, he suspected it dealt with sex. He scrambled out of bed to fetch the book Mom once bought him, entitled What Every Boy and Girl Should Know. He turned on the light, found it on a shelf, and settled on the floor, skimming uncomfortably through its illustrated pages—he never dared read it before. After a few pages, he learned he masturbated, except boys usually did so when fantasizing about girls. He held the book to his chest and pondered his sexuality. He wasn’t normal. Randy and Paul constantly talked about girls and couldn’t wait to get the latest Playboy, so they could gawk at the naked women with their big breasts and shapely behinds then hand the magazine to Tommy, oozing, “Look at her boobs, man.” Although he faked delight, the pictures repulsed him, and he barely glanced at them. Did he like boys rather than girls? He didn’t believe so. The dread created by those pictures matched the dread he experienced in the boy’s locker room, where he hated undressing around other boys. He’d wrap a towel around his waist whenever he left the shower, hurrying to a corner to dress, averting his eyes to avoid glimpsing another boy’s nakedness. No, his sexual yearnings were linked only to his bizarre and persistent fantasies. Where did they come from? He recalled his strange craving began when he watched the Dobie Gillis episode about cannibals in Maryland. He tossed the book aside, wishing he’d never watched that silly TV show.
It was only later that the project leader learned that some of the children were being used for sex. Various references were made that some of the subjects were later moved into trafficking activities. Some died...
Imagine if you will that one researcher is brainwashing a child about politics related to multiple issues. He or she plays games where a child "wins" the game if they succeed in blowing up a town or a school. Imagine, also, that some subjects will be taught to associate their favorite songs with sexual activities... Note that I am being purposely vague because the book goes into detail, while I don't want to give too much away. Certainly it is, or should be enough, to say that multiple directions from multiple people related to very personal issues will lead to a child's attitudes and beliefs later in life. One direction in particular was something that was to be done many years in the future by one specific boy, with all of his training being geared toward that final act. 24 was being groomed to become president of the United States...
I cannot help but point out that for many, what the former president and new president has been doing for years is using language cues that have been proven to become acts by his followers (MAGA). Indeed, many of those in prison for their acts during January 6th stated clearly that they believe they were acting on direction of the president. Is that any different than what was done to the children? To a great extent, yes. it is different. Only by the fact that the children were being controlled through various methods--hypnotism, drugs--while MAGA chose MAGA, even if some didn't realize that they were being lied to. Indeed, one of the factual legal actions that proved lies were occurring by Fox TV was that they were sued and granted payment of a multi-million dollar penalty for libel.
As I read, I wondered whether this as a non-fiction book might have been less explosive, but also informative. Yet, I know from my own reading of thousands of books that writing as fiction allows readers to get involved with the characters. Because of this, I believe that this novel, although extremely difficult to read, was the best choice. I recommend it highly for a variety of reasons. But, mainly, because we must prepare ourselves for now and the future when this type of activity could very well be done again. The incoming president has already stated that he will seek retribution for what he claims was done to him without reason... In the book, 24 did not become president. To me that means that there remained to many of those children, some semblance of reasoning of facts. But how many were significantly changed by such manipulation and brain control?
I cannot help but think about my own personal opinion of Pro Life versus Pro Choice... You see, when somebody forces sex on a child, teen, or a woman of any age, it is a violation that our minds cannot accept. I know, it happened to me, and I was affected for the rest of my life. It seems to me that those who want to force a child into a situation where it is not wanted will mostly fail. Mk-Ultra took child abuse to its greatest and worst type of control--mind control... Sex was used, drugs were used. God was used for purposes that were/are unbelievable. We know what happens thereafter from the government's standpoint... Examples recently include, that children were separated from their parents, sexual abuse occurred, children all over the world are being trafficking and being forced into sex of all kinds... A child is never prepared for sex, yet it goes on... During the last year, at least one child was identified in the news who was raped and had to be taken to another state to have a safe abortion done. MAGA stated that those children should have been carried to term, no matter whether it was from incest or not. This issue alone has caused a major division within the country. Imagine what could happen if those in power choose to deal with children even more than they already have been...
We CANNOT afford to go backwards! Sexual exploitations is, in my opinion, much worse than an abortion in early stages which is possible if the law is not part of the equation, but rather a medical decision.
This book is well written. It is presented as a story--a fictional story, yes, but one that could be written about any of the women during the past years that have been sexually assaulted in one way or another and be raped by those who choose drugs for the purpose of making the woman forget, often not totally... or payment for underage sex... Some victims never get over it. Some who commit this act are never held accountable! It is a losing battle, it seems...
What I know is that the government should never be involved! Unless for legal actions for accountability...
This book is the first in a trilogy. (BTW I didn't use the entire music playlist for the book...)_ I hope those in government and those who were outside government paying for the research will be held accountable... The use of children for any purpose is wrong. Love is the only action that should be tolerated by this world...and surely is what God expects!
.jfif)
