This post is specific to one hypnotic session at the old Düsseldorf Consulate on Cecilianalle that I was to memorize (I have a special gift that way), and is a chapter in my Kindle enovel.
But now I realize that this conversation is the one that I should send to Congress right on this timing. Hard to explain, and it proves that it can be done.
It goes like this: As a so-called "Manchurian Candidate," which requires having Celiac's Disease, I was not only studied for it, but utilized for it. So, there were time-to-time covert programming sessions in such secure and secret locations as the Duesseldorf Consulate LLO Office on weekends when no one else was in the building.
They would use the usual dark/light psychological thing, and, of course, there was the obligatory shot in the middle of my elbow pit just before. Some kind of drug to accentuate the hypnotic effect, on top of the endorphins from the high gluten diet I was provided. The Manchurian Candidate Effect, for which I was made a study subject of since that time. God, I hope it's now over and I get my past promised pay, rank and benefits.
"Yeah, when he's in this state, he doesn't remember a thing." Cheney had been told by the Director. This was the year overseas where Cheney was officially with the "Office of Economic Opportunity," or CIA. Of course, so had believed Gary Condit, who also thought he had a key to my hypnotic state.
Why they bragged so much to me when I was at their home in UK, one time.
I'd been ordered to sit in a chair. No good if I got dizzy, fell down, and conked my head. There had been the usual: The Director, The Man With Small Feet, and the ASA guy who sat in a room across the hall, tape recording everything.
But there'd been some kind of snafu, the tape had come off the reel-to-reel recorders and TMWSF had been asked to go over and help out being the techie that he certainly was. I was told he has an IQ of over 140.
The Director had then said to me when we alone, "The next man who comes into this room is the highest ranking mole that you will be worked against."
A few minutes later, in walked The Man With Small Feet, Dick Cheney. He had been Dir GHWB's aide since at least the first time I saw him, in 1969 or so, at Camp Zama, Japan, when he had been the nerd photographer with the then Ambassador to China, GHWB. Who'd wanted special shots of us Karate Club students as we worked out, having been ordered to not look towards the Ambassador at all. In retrospect,I can now see how Cheney was set up.
Like GHWB often said, "Keep you friends close. Keep your Enemies closer."
So at the Consulate, the Director ordered me to remember and memorize: That the next man that walked into the room would be the highest ranking mole that I'd be worked against. The room was dark black with only one lightbulb on.
I had special abilities and that's how they used me: Rainer Rupp, Markus Wolf, Clyde Lee Conrad, etc. Long story.
Clyde Lee Conrad when stationed at the US Consulate LLO Office
with duty car in 1977. Before he learned German.
Myself and some notable Intelligence Agents,
to include STASI Gen. Markus Wolf behind me.
The photo was misdated on purpose.(1977)
Rainer Ruppe, me, his stepmother and a British surveillance team in
the background at German's Fort Fun
I was to get the idea that living in the West would be fun
Tinker, Tailor, Thatcher Spy...
So came back into the room, TMWSF. Now here's the transcript of the resultant conversation,the best I can pull it back.
"Thank you, thank you so very much. For helping me clean up my past. You know, it's so hard these days (Nixon times) to have anything used against you." As if I was the "Something" to get covered up. I stood there as I had been trained to do, silent, in hypnotic state, and that meant totally memorizing everything- But without the ability to cognate it. Like a human video camera, to be hauled in later and play it back.
"But you know, I've been tapped on the shoulder, they want me for President! And, plus, there's a precedent, President Adams, whose son also become President!" He paused.
"So, I'll need a Cabinet, How would you like to be the Secretary of the Military?"
"I have no experience in Military Matters... My experience is in business." Cheney had seemed wry and untrusting.
"That's what we need, a businessman to run things!" The Director was sounding upbeat.
"And you know I'm in oil. We'll get you a chairmanship as a CEO of an oil company, or something."
Cheney had only said that he'd think about it.
Cheney, as I had ever seen him, had always been the camera man, documenting what WASN'T happening, like one scene at 139 Kapa'a Street in Kailua, Oahu, HI, in 1974, that made it look like the Director and Lloyd Bensten were a gay couple banging a bed's head post against a wall. This was for the deliberate intake by a Hawaiian "Blala," a Feminist Secessionist, so as to guarantee this got back to Red Chinese archives.
Ergo, to feed the Clinton camp.
Oddly, this "Government House" was just down the street where the painter who came on my last day there said was where some black guy who always said he'd be President some day who stayed with his three gay friends and smoked pot. We all know who that was, now.
The famous Kailua Beach is at the end of the road.
That was before I was made to join the Army, but much later in 1984 turned into a place I was later taken by military ambulance when I was ushered into a false tongue surgery, and other procedures where done there. Let's just say I suddenly gained a lot of weight I wish the Army would take back.
But at the Consulate, the Director had continued: "Come on, you have to get practice at this. Running him."
And Cheney had sat in an office chair backwards, for that was to be a key. Then, I was supposed to be open to his suggestion. And they spoke of the woman I was to marry....
Who would be known by her Legend, "St. Philomena." A little known Filipino saint.
I later did meet her and subconsciously obeyed her instruction. My instruction was that I would not use arrows, like in the Legend, but Latin Hyphens around her name in the book I was to write. That the symbol of Palm Leaves meant she was remunerated, or paid, for what she did.
And the symbol of Hope, the Anchor, was in that she would hope to get out of her dilemma one day. Figuring what she eventually did do, as in False Reporting, she worked hard for decades trying to prove her claim legitimate, by any means she could muster.
Life with her was Hell. Her false claim? Anal sex. Read that as Homosexuality, what basically turned out to be a theme borrowed from my adopted mother's false claims to that effect, and so, my eventual cover.
Being sent first to Maui, where she "Honey Trapped" me, and then at her direction, to Wyoming meant having my life run remotely by Cheney, every job I had, every place I was made to live...
And all the near-death experiences I endured as a "Suspected homosexual" in this state.
Something about all this has had something to do with former EDP Chief Derrick Craig's suicide, but I can't be sure just what. Unless it's this connection to Cheney.
Her false accusations to authorities meant my incarceration and seizure of my guns more than once.
But never did they doubt her veracity, but doubted mine, instead. For she kept me Celiac Symptomatic, knowing even before I ever did, that I have Celiac's Disease. And exploited that the to max.
So what was the point in purposely planting false homosexual-seeming scenes in enemy and FBI files? Well, the infiltration of the CHICOM Agents, the Clintons, was foreknown, as well as their immediate raiding of all classified files for blackmail material. They ended up believing that they had some real blackmail on Conservatives that would allow them to help put that half black guy into the Presidency, and that's what it seems like now.
It's why no one in Congress will broach Obama's ineligibility. What's really bad is WHO his real father is.
And yet this is the exploitation of what I'd been told to remember earlier by the Director. That President Nixon was really upset about having found the White House had been infiltrated in the person of Cheney, the youngest Chief of Staff ever, because of the homosexual relationship he shared with Donald Rumsfelt.
I remember there being some kind of concern over Cheney's possible Manchurian Candidate status, even. The annual private quail hunting parties and the heart attacks posed possible "Links checkups," as you would see in the movie by that name. It's much more a CIA-planted documentary than it is any fictional spy movie. You just have to read between the lines.
I hope this doesn't get Cheney head bashed by his Commie handlers, which has seemed to happen with Hillary Clinton, Harry Reid, and John Kerry.
The propaganda of homosexuality (And Feminism) that has been pushed upon us was conceived by Wolf, in part because of his espionage efforts to demoralize us.
Like I said, keep you enemies closer.
Of course, this meant the allowance of Gary Condit's "Disposal for Hire" activities, even his infiltration into Congress, but nothing could be done about such women that were lured to the flame of political power like moths.
What really was paramount was in my cover. As long as Condit thought I was being driven insane and that no one would ever believe me, I would be safe from him. For the interim.
But oddities do occur! Who would have thought I have to watch out for Iranians?
For had tried to frame me enough. Four bodies in Düsseldorf alone, each homosexually-related, and one of them listed on Interpol. He and his wife had promised to "Do me" personally, too, in fact, and my best protection turned out to be the vigilantes of Wyoming, as he could never be seen with me with them always watching me so closely. And trying to frame me in other ways for their own jollies.
One can only ask how it worked out that 911 was the lid on the Levy affair at the time. But it led to a Middle Eastern war that definitely had the hand of Dick Cheney behind it. You'd be surprised at the influence Halliburton has here in Wyoming oilfields.
More later- Check back.
No comments:
Post a Comment