What do Jonbennet, Chandra & Laci have in common? The Gary Condits!

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Tuesday, October 21, 2014

You're 0bama's real half-brother. Naturally they put you into Wyoming State Hospital, the Nut House.

 YES, MY STORY ABOUT OBAMA, WHO HIS FATHER REALLY IS 
AND ESPIONAGE GOT ME PUT AWAY FOR A BIT - WHAT ELSE IS NEW IN POLITICS THESE DAYS?
 BUT WHAT DID I SEE THERE AS AN INVESTIGATIVE UNDERCOVER TYPE?
JUST WHY WYOMING STATE HOSPITAL AT EVANSTON HAS
A REPUTATION FOR "SUICIDES"

(To read specifically about the Assisted Suicide, tab down to the Bold area)

This will sound crazy, naturally.  What you'd expect.   Yet the following can be verified and I print it because I'm exposing, if nothing else, why Wyoming State Hospital has a reputation for "Suicides," and they've instituted bizarre rules to cover that up.
It's actually "Suicide by the Men In White Coats;" I witnessed one, I do believe. And have been too scared to report it and other details until now. 

But first let me lead up to my incarceration there:
Yes, I am Barrack 0bama's half-brother.  The documentation and whole story have long been out there, and also available in my Amazon Kindle enovel entitled OBAMA WAS BRED TO BE A MANCHURIAN CANDIDATE AND SO WAS I, an instant download for 9$.
Simply put, we're both the son of a high-ranking former East German Communist STASI Intelligence General, "Master Spy" Markus Wolf.  That meant I was to be used for an espionage purpose, too, but became utilized by US Government agencies from even an early age. For one, they put me in US Army M.I. and sent me to Germany to lure out two men.
One, Markus Wolf.  It worked. He was "Turned" in ''77, a secret I'm revealing, long before the Berlin Wall came down, and he told of the Commie Master Plan they had, amongst other things, to put one of his own long-term spies into the White House.  So the CIA let the enemy see what it wanted to see, and basically counter-ran 0bama's run until now.  Now, it's clear he's not in Power, and everything can be reversed. He just needs to be declared ineligible by SCOTUS, and that's what I seek to have happen. My Duty from Day One.
If authorities were that eager to prove this, they'd take my DNA to find out.  Click here for a personal DNA swab from me to present to Sheriff Joe! But, let's face it, there's something bigger going on, and we're getting the Media Hogwash to cover it up.
The other man I was to lure out of the woodwork was a former SS Munthausen Concentration Camp Doktor, Dr. Aribert "Death" Heim, who experimented on Jews and found the most expeditious way to dispose of them.
That methodology became the  M.O. of a couple (Literally - They're married) of professional Serial Killers For Hire.  Especially of "Political Sexual Embarrassments" for corrupt politicians.
That became the basis of what seems like untold blackmail of Conservatives to prevent them from questioning 0bama's Birth Certificate, and Legitimacy.
But to the point! This same assassin kept killing people in that same grotesque manner that I vaguely knew but over time made it seem as if I was the responsible!
The idea was to have me Committed.  If that could be achieved, Wolf's espionage goal for myself, that of Communizing inheritances (And I stand for one from my first adopted step-father, former SF Sgt. Arthur Hyatt) could exploit a legal loophole and be done. A legal precedence.  That would motivate our carefully cultivated "ME Society" females into doing just that to Eldest Brother. "Feminism."
So the inheritance got put into trust until I turn 60.  I am now 60 and I'm sure it's been unsealed and is before a Federal Court with a lot of other things.
Now that meant I had to have a "Cover" for that entire time and a Legend was made for me.  A MISERABLE lifestyle of having to marry an illiterate, non-educated, viscous woman basically bought from the Philippines (Women are the biggest export there) who did her best to trash my life.
She had me sign a special rider on an insurance policy that would pay off if I was ever Committed - Not any coincidence.
Of course, throughout, US Army Officers appear in my life and have me sign papers, promotions and the like.  I was told I would be made a Warrant Officer for the duration, so I have something to look forwards to.  Plus, I have to take orders.
So, after she got herself sick - And blamed it on me, of course - and left for Maui, I was forced by Wyoming State Agencies to become a truck driver, as she had frequently pressured me to do.
Back in Germany, I had been told that I would one day become one.
In a hearing before HI Judge Richard Komo in 1994, USSS Agent Brian Larkin said my "Psychological Profile" included moving to the mainland, and become a truck driver.  So, it was fore-planned.
Yet! Be an "Undercover investigator," at the same time, especially in the oil fields and construction outfits. It's hard to describe the near-misses I experienced there.
But when I graduated from SAGE Truck Driving School (Specially released funds from TANF Family Svc. funding), there was a legal delay.  As SWIFT TRANSPORTATION later demanded of me, there was an INTERPOL notice on me due to one of the murders.  I didn't know which one at the time, but believe now it was about Okinawa in 1969.  Computers are wonderful, aren't they!?
So I accepted an offer from "Bill Oberst" of "Oberst Trucking" in Lingle, Wyoming.
He purportedly had three rigs, but he only sent me on two runs in two months. That is really a play on words, because I've known him for decades, and I last knew him as CAPTAIN Timothy Berigan, a US Army Espionage Shrink.
Call it a "Study" on exemption from "Posse Comitatus," if you must. What the Liberals would LOVE. US Army Officers operating within the US...
He did the intestinal biopsy on me at Tripler Army Medical Center during the course of agony with Judge Komo that proved I have Celiac's Disease, a necessary ingredient to be a MANCHURIAN CANDIDATE SPY.  Judge Komo sending me there was a cover for that official test. But Berigan screwed up and also gave me an ulcer by mistake.  Go figure.
Yes, the CIA and FBI and all use shrinks.
Well, he got promoted in the meantime, "Oberst" is the German word for "Colonel."
He was the one who figured out the reasons the bodies were found that way.  That the perpetrator was probably trying to infiltrate Congress, which he did!
"Oberst" sometimes would tell me things, as in that "One day they will put you in Evanston State Hospital," the local nut house.
He'd said once he'd arranged it because it would prove useful: One, to give me a stamp of "Sane" upon my forehead, and also: Because I did have a phobia - That of being Committed, based upon my "Mother's" constant attempts to have me put there so as to collect upon the long-awaited inheritance.  (See enovel)
So having me put in the Nut House should ameliorate my phobia, right?
What else?  I'd been framed as a "Serial Killer," the government had evidence I wasn't - But wasn't going to reveal any of the above until 0bama's run had petered out. Particularly with evidence that implicates Gary Condit of the murder of two Okinawan waitresses from a Soba Shop I'd frequented - With his damning fingerprints on a bottle of Lucky X beer he'd given me.  Long Story.
Not to mention the long run of False Reports from my issued "Wife." The since-childhood attempts by my Commie "Mother" to do same.  Telling people well into my adulthood that I "Had sexual problems because his stepfather homosexually abused him!  Can you please watch him!  BOOO HOO!!"
That, actually, is a Sting on the Commie PSYOPS theme of "Feminism," one of the propaganda themes they have used to destroy us from within with.  Another obviously being "Homosexuality being normal."
So one day "Oberst" drove me to the State Hospital (Actually much worse than a prison - Most inmates tried desperately to go back to jail, instead), which was undergoing renovation at the time.
A special Congressional Grant (How many in my life!) had been made in order to upgrade the facilities, and there were many workmen there.
"Oberst" showed me Room #2, which was quite distinctive in that a metal piece had fallen off of the doorjamb from wear and some inmate had used it to make a distinctive annotation upon the small viewing window.  That was to serve as my mnemonic and be a cause of hope when I was sent there.  So it wasn't changed out.
Oh, a lot happened, and I'll enlarge this writing in the future.
Colonel Berigan (Now purportedly an Army Shrink at Ft. Huachuca had me meet one of the workers, and paid him to remember me. He was someone from the area who frequently did this sort of work, and spoke of what other improvements would be made.
Later, when I was sent there, he was made to show up with his special grinding tool to recognize me.  I didn't let on.
Berigan said that he figured that a certain graft that was going on would be allowed to continue, but I was to watch for it:  Rather disgusting, one of the office workers in charge of obtaining work permits had a collusion with a plumbing outfit.
The original sewer design was faulty, and easily clogged up.  Since the entire floor was concrete encased, it could not be repaired. So Room #6 would constantly back up with sewage and was quite unhealthy for a "Prison Hospital." Not to mention the occupant of that room.
The inmate there could be heard to complain of the puke that came up in his toilet.  Well, that came from Room #4, as I explain below.
What the plumbing company found out was that if a industrial blue rag - The heavy-duty recyclable kind - was left in a toilet, it would catch on a bolt on a valve or corner, and commence the clogging action.
Requiring, I guess, by details of the contract, high fees for emergency pumping of the sewer line by that company - And a kickback to the person in charge of contracts.
Sure enough, late at night when it was REALLY quiet, as it was sometimes (I'm fairly certain the med's were "Adjusted" for that - I refused to take any.  In fact, I came to notice how some inmates got their "Pain medication" from the following.   After being vocally and publicly denied such - Until later at night.
AND - The old nurse, a potential witness, has also reportedly suddenly died...
There had even been one inmate who had made some kind of formal complaint about the Supermeds. But it had felt like the place was stuffed with undercover cops.
(More later) Who could tell what was real and what wasn't?
That's what happens when Shrinks are in control of one's life, I've found.
I was suddenly awoken by a woman and a man in the quiet darkness.  I was told I was being transferred to the next room because the plumbers had come and I couldn't be in there during their work.
The woman was out of place in the nurse's outfit as she was clearly some kind of office worker, with status.  The man was some kind of "Social Worker," but meaner than the rest of them.  "Mathew?"
But the next day I asked to be moved back as the view of the fence and sunlight was better.  When I went to flush the toilet, an obviously new and nice blue industrial rag floated back.  At first, I thought to remove it with my hands, but then thought better and re-flushed it.
Within a couple of days, I could hear the complaints from Room #6, saw the gallon-sized container of Drain-O being used again, and eventually some huge vacuum machine they'd purchased.
Oddly, that woman would sit outside in the viewing area from time to time, and slowly changed her appearance.  Her hair got shorter, but her dress became more and more that of an office worker with status, and female ornamentation to signal same.
But, there was no end of "Psychological" tricks they would use, so I sort of discounted what Berigan had said about it.
Like I discounted the news report I'd once read about the place.  The FBI had planned to test their new "Foam Belly concealed carry disguises" there. Like the one the "Patient Advocate" wore.  
Yet, here I am, reporting it as I should do.
That's not the worst thing I saw there.  I'll add more, but to be brief:
(The purported new law against masturbation by inmates there and cold showers)
They had an "Hourly Check" they would do because it had been mandated by law as there had been a "Suicide."
The reality was that they only checked on one when one did something different, like exercising, and they'd see that in their hidden camera system.
But!  Especially at night!  If one got up to urinate, they would then come and shine their intense blue flashlights into one's eyes as punishment for making them have to walk down and check on one! It, of course, brought one to full wakefulness and a difficulty in going back to sleep.  Getting older is apparently another Un-PC crime.
That's called "Treatment."  Sure is.  "Treated like S****"
(Having Celiac's Disease, I was given special food. One delicious item kept either having a bite taken from it or disappeared completely - The Gluten Free Cookie!  The obese workers there had no compassion...    The Dietitian was quite nice, and I would be issued fruit cups.  Then it started that one could note that the previously full cup had a depression in the middle - Something went missing on the transport!  Especially the fresh strawberries. But then, at Carbon County Jail, I was frequently fed plain beans in retaliation for my dietary needs pain in the butt of Celiac's Disease.)
There was a new inmate one day, a short, balding Caucasian guy who looked as if from Italian decent, with a pot belly, who was NOT a happy camper.
He was very angry, and got to throwing around the heavy duty furniture that they have there for just that purpose.  Pounding on the plexiglass windows. Shouting and screaming until they put him in Room #4, at the end of a corridor, kind of out of the way.  Deliberately so.
Yet, he would still scream and curse and bang the door until it seemed as if they'd put him in some kind of restraints.  Then, he could only bang the door.
The two big Guys In White Coats, Dave I think was one, and "The Southern Gentleman" I called the other, were the epitome of "Nice guys trying to get you to talk to the Shrink."  They basically had the night shift.
It was ALL so very psychological.  One hesitated to chose certain novels from the Library lest one be pegged as something.. 
That I read spy novels was noted in my report.  
It was QUIET that night. But they were force-feeding him, again, it sounded like.  Words like "Vomit," "Clean-up," and them getting a mop and bucket were overheard, as had been before.
But I heard "Rope" for some reason, as I did later, when they went to flush the sewer system again.  A lot of things can be overheard through the duct system there. Sometime they fed one Subliminal Suggestions that way.
Like "FAG ATTACK!  FAG ATTACK!"  Or "JACKOFF NOW!  JACKOFF NOW!"
You know, sweet pillow talk on the PA system.
Sometimes, he would be violent and curse.  Sometimes, he would beg. Pleadingly. Sometimes it sounded like he was barfing.  But then it got real quiet that night.
What then alarmed me was the next day when Dave (?) was walking down the corridor and one of the more deadpan of the female workers called to him from the observation booth.
 "What happened to him?  I heard he died."
"Heart Attack."  Was the deadpan answer.
I don't think so.  I think he was smothered to death.  He just seemed to be one of those kinds of guy that maybe even his family wanted him dead. And he was very angry about his situation in life. They accommodated him.  Could a drug help make that happen?  I was terrified to the core.
Of course, it might have been a grand orchestration for my benefit.  Maybe in reporting same, I'll get called "Crazy" all the more so? But I know I didn't sleep well after that. 
Maybe that was some kind of "Treatment?"
I was told by one worker, Larry,  that it costs nearly $1,000 a day per inmate to keep them there, and you can be sure no one wants to be laid off!  Or have a shortage of rooms, or all that. Or put up with someone like that forever.
But, hey!  Don't listen to me, the Shrink called me a "Paranoid Schizophrenic."  It's also kind of convenient from a political point of view, of course.
What he told me specifically was that, since I was a pronounced "Birther," who didn't believe that 0bama was eligible to be President, I was "Delusional."
A political thing.
But, in that Wyoming was a very conservative state, a majority of people here are "Birthers," and as such, why only lock up me?  But they did, anyway, to the legal amount the Feminist Judge could get away with.  Six months of my life, and the rest of it tainted with a black brush.  Like, can I get a job, now, unless it's one they want me at?
There's certain jobs available at places I can walk to (Seems somebody may have busted a vital clutch part off my truck, a clutch slave cylinder,  even as it's obvious I'm penniless...) where I get special treatment, anyway.  How well I remember going to one store, for example, seeing the employees assemble, look me over, mumble something about "Signs of Mental Illness," and etc.
Hey.  Goes with the turf if you're actually half-related to the Prez.
They basically have done that at all the stores, even the Eye Doctor, here, in Rawlins.  For some reason, the Political Incorrectness Watchers have some real funding and power here.
City Market was known for having "The best surveillance system" in the US, long ago, according to RPD Chief Ried.  Which of course means I'm "Identified," and get "Special Treatment" the moment I enter these places. In case I "Show signs of Mental Illness..."
See, if you're not crazy yet, they go out of their way to drive you nuts...
Or, often enough, there'll be clerks who amazingly have a ton of metal embedded on their faces and tongue.  It must be one of those "Psychological Profile" things whereas I guess they think I mutilated myself - My straight front teeth were filed down by a Saratoga Dentist's assistant, because, as he had told the Dentist, "I heard he's homosexual - Now he can give blow jobs better."


Between that and an unneeded Tongue Surgery, a third of my tongue was cut out:

 I hardly look and certainly don't sound much like 0bama, I bet an operational necessity for the duration. But people tell me I have a facial resemblance.
How well I remember the Feminist Lawyer assigned to me waved around a copy of my anti-0bama "Birther" website, saying that she would never get a fair trial with that in the public domain.
I'd made the big mistake of trying to tell her about the professional assassination team, as well.  She tricked me into signing a Waiver Form, as if it was some kind of strategy, and when she wouldn't return calls, I submitted and served my own Court Motion to retract same to all parties concerned. By fax and in person.
I went to her office the next day, there was a huge pile under her shredding machine, and while the assistant told me she wasn't in, I could hear her shouting.
"HOW WAS I TO KNOW HE'S 0BAMA'S HALF-BROTHER!?"
Then at Judge Eiken's Court they had a quick conference and I was told I'd be taken to one place for an "Interview," and then if that didn't work out, another place for same.
The Prosecutor's offer of 8 days in jail for my first DUI (And set-up at that) Offense turned into a six months' grand attempt to get me to engage in homosexuality, perversion, confession, and violence.
That's what jail's all about in America today.  And the Nut House, as well. (More details later - check back.)
Their "Psychological Profile," I take it, a collection of all the False Reports and missing evidence and influence by the woman I had been forced to marry.
In other words, I had to go on Ice, big time, long term.  Do something of value in the meantime.
I was never told the term of my confinement, and the defense lawyer never once visited me nor called.  Even when others told me she was in the facility.  I was held INCOMMUNICADO, basically, and refused things like an underpaid paycheck from BCN Trucking sent to me as "Contraband."
If I'd been able to send it to the bank, I wouldn't have lost my checking account.
If Verizon would have answered the phone on a call from the jail, they wouldn't have racked up charges that drained my account, closed my checking, ruined my credit rating, and lost me my cell phone account.  THANK YOU VERIZONWIRELESS!
While, at the jail, they would occasionally let me use a phone book, they would not at the Hospital Prison.  So I couldn't get addresses nor phone numbers.
This placed me under a great deal of stress, of course, which they attributed to "Mental Illness," I guess.  One is "Supposed to like being treated that way," I guess.
There, their compiled "Psychological Profile" of me seemed to be that of a Serial Killer.  No evidence. No Trial, no testimony. No ability to look one's accuser in the eye, especially when my "Wife" had been in Court there before Judge Eiken making false claims to get at the inheritance. They'd put up a special barricade to prevent just that.  "Women Victim" Stuff. Feminism.
Just a lot of "Reports" by people with an ax to grind.
Only now do I fully appreciate that I was never treated as a DUI Offender, I was presumed to be a Serial Killer from day one.  And yet it had been I who had demanded to see Modesto PD when I was there with SWIFT to report Gary Condit and what I knew of him.
Demanded to see a Rawlins PD Detective to do same.
Put up a  Picassa Website describing all that what I knew of the serial murders.
And, of course, out of sheer desperation, and forced impoverishment, had started revealing other secrets, such as how it is that 0bama and I share the same father.
Telling the truth, that "The King has No Clothes" in America these day, will have you put into the Nut House.  And they're STILL trying to have me encapsualized.
"For my own good," Of course.
And...  How nice it would be?  Lenin said in the Communist Manifesto, that "The masses will force the individual Capitalist to give his Capital to them all... For the advancement of worldwide Communism..."
That's what I see daily, in the people I'm forced to associate with.  They'd like to "Friendly-friendly" me into be a part of their socialistic "Group." Peer pressure.
And give up my inheritance, and it's inherent personal protections, to them, and their Kind, and their political ends.
No Fucking Way.













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