It was 1989 - the fall - and I was fourteen years old. I was living in the penultimate "North Dallas Suburb" of the City - Richardson. Calling it a "violent place" was the kind of thing that people today don't understand - or even remember - at all. I was at a middle school in Richardson at the time, and all of us had seen many of our teachers and friends die, often in front of us, at the hands of a regime that was beginning to form of former and current "USMC" and "Police." Nobody who had "served their country" in the Vietnam War ever thought of themselves as particularly relevant to anything noble or anything criminal. Often the difference between a soldier, a constructor worker, and the miscellany of society was what side of the bed he woke up on in the morning. To the kids in Dallas, the 1980's were about quite a few different major forces in society. When you hear the words "America" or "United States" - back then - it conjured images of the world's largest cinder-cement block flying through sky - only hoping you got out of the way before it hit you.
There wasn't a lot of order, but generally the "center of life" was the local school system, and many many kinds and parents would show up there to say hello. In 1989, though, one of probably 2 dozen "incidents" that I could write about - and did write about when I was younger - occurred that resulted in the death of, yet another, best friend of mine. His name was Adam Snow, and he died a few days after a hand-grenade was lobbed at him while playing basketball on the indoor basketball court at the local school. The USMC were wearing their full-military camouflage, and had brought their litany of what I used to call "ultra-violent" accouterments - bazookas, hand-grenades, and rocket-propelled grenades with them. To get this straight, the 1980's weren't about "vendettas." They weren't about lynch-mobs running through the streets fortifying their own gang-factions at all. People died, huge percentages of the population died in the years that spanned the Ronald Reagan and George H.W. Bush years. Nobody ever particularly intended my friend Adam Snow to have his legs blown off with a hand-grenade, courtesy of "Our Heroes" at age 14, it just kind of happened that way. He was the first friend I ever had in Dallas after moving to this city in 1982 - when I was 7.
Their is a famous scene that "My Master" (of today, 2018) likes to play to me from the 1979 movie Rambo with Sylvester Stallone. I that scene, which is right during the last 5 minutes of the movie, where the "crazed marine" returning from the wars in Asia, breaks down completely to a friend and tells of the hopelessly traumatic experience of a small Asian Child bringing a shoe-box to his friend only to have it explode. "My friend is all over me! My friend is all over me!" Mont-senior Rambo (Stallone) proclaims before he breaks down and turns himself in for his private war in the Washington State. It was an "extremely violent" movie by any standards, but the last five minutes the American People were forced to perceive that no matter how unpopular the war in East Asia was - which had been raging (on & off) since that fateful day on December 7th, 1941 - the soldiers who were returning had become very crazy, and very lost. Acts of violence in the United States had become common, and people needed to think about preventing more war - both at home and here in North America.
My master loves to play that five minute clip in the T.V. that was surgically implanted in my eyes/ears during the 1990's to remind me that the reason he works "The Department's Brain Control Operations" is because there was a lot of violence, and the biggest purporter of it was - as we all know today - the arsenal of democracy (Weapons of Mass Destruction) usually combined with a severe hang over from "the parties" that the Dallas Citizenry construction and sky-scraper engineering teams would celebrate before (and often during and after) the completion of a major or minor sky-scraper project; both in the center of Dallas and even the North Dallas suburbs. The National Guard, around here in Texas, was always sort of a myth. Going to "Fort Hood" was something lots of people were capable of doing, but so was construction work building, home building, sky-scraper engineering, and even smaller city-engineering projects like water-towers and electricity towers.
"My friend is all over me, My friend is all over me!" is a phrase that I've had ringing in my ears for quite a few years since 2012, 2013 etc. Yes, that fateful day in the gymnasium, my friend didn't notice what was going on. People were often very tired. There wasn't always food trucks like we have today delivering mountains and mountains of Walmart produce to every street corner in the city. At our school, the lunch line would sometimes remain closed at lunch time for weeks. Kids were told to pack a lunch from home, or go hungry. I guess he was tired and hungry that day while we were playing basketball, because I remember running into the furthest corner of the gymnasium to cover my ears and hide every inch of my body behind the bleachers to avoid the shrapnel. "Grenade! Run!" I was screaming at them. When it went off, that day in 1989, I had to run to pick him up and carry him outside to a bench by the school and try to prevent the bleeding. I was covered in parts of his legs, and blood, crying like I did sometimes. The ambulances at the recently constructed Richardson Medical Center down the street were never running. Finding a living soul inside the hospital wasn't always easy. One of the coaches picked him up, and drove him to the hospital that day. He didn't die, though. In fact, the following Monday he came to class in a wheel chair with no legs sitting in geometry class trying to tell a little of story - in so much pain and agony that he wasn't able to say much. He was a goner, I could tell, and one day the bandages came off, and all he sort of bled to death in front of all of us. Nobody knew what to do. We had seen such events happen on an almost monthly basis in Richardson, and the phrase "anesthetized to the site violence" was really the center of everyone who grew up in the 1980's were all about.
But none of this is what I really want to write about today. Yes, the Marines were around all the time. They loved to wear their starch-pressed "tighty whiteys" around - looking like Marines, and they did (from time to time, once in a while). There is a corner in Dallas today, where they would sleep in tents pretty often, and pretty easily. Waiting for another housing-construction start to occur, or another sky-scraper building job. Sometimes they would sleep in tents on the corner for months on end, smoking cigarettes, or whatever they could find.
To those who lived through it, you may remember, but if you have been implanted, you probably don't. To me, when my friend Eric Vroonland died that same year when I was 13 by a 57 Magnum blast to his face while sitting next to me in class, by 1993, all I said to myself - usually - was well, yeah, "He wasn't my best friend" and also, "I guess he must have moved to Arizona" (since I hadn't seen him in 5 years. Once in a while, I would remember the old "57" and say, one day I'll change things. As I turned 16, 17 and 18, I knew that before all else, becoming "a bad guy" was the same was "becoming a police" or "joining the army" - and put every nerve fiber and sinew I had into my learning and my studies. My dad had gone to Harvard University in 1960. My grandfather had had Wall Street Offices in the 1940's and 50's, and my dad occupied a building next to the NYSE when he graduated from Harvard in 1962. I had seen the police shoot quite a few of my friends (children) and take their life - mostly out of total fear and total lack of comprehension of what was occurring. I knew violence was a pretty stark thing to face, and in the U.S.A. joining the police department (to me) was tantamount to saying, I have know idea what to do about all this. At the very least, police officers get to stay safe - often at the expense of the people they print in the newspapers that they control who are being protected by them! Two other friends that year, Tim Mellon and Eric Gatlin were shot, for instance, point blank range by the police at age 16 for fist-fighting, and they died. And their bodies were left out front of the school for weeks. Others, teachers and many kids for God's sake, paid with their lives for that "police protection" that the authorities were so won't to provide. The families of Texas and other states in the Union paid the American Government with their lives for those Marines and Police Officers livelihood.
But no, this blog-post doesn't need to be about "The Violence that Rocked America" during the age of the (crazy) old man, Ronald Reagan President #40, and his little C.I.A. friend GHWB President #41. No, this is supposed to be about "Counter Intelligence" and the rise of the mind-control state in continental America today. As I have said, the violence was random, senseless, un-targeted, and never really fueled by anything at all other than fear, various (and extremely debilitating effects of controlled substances), and other losses in society. Many of my teachers had perished (if not most!) of my grade-school, high-school, and middle-school teachers had given their lives in the service of education before I was even 18 years old and on my was to the Massachusetts Institute of Technology where I went to college. As I said, my dad had gone to (what used to be called) the most prominent University in the Ivy League (if not, the world), and that school was just a 45 minute walk down Massachusetts Avenue from M.I.T. I was accepted, but decided that a real education simply could not leave out the sciences or mathematics. Their are exchange programs between the two places, and I did, indeed, take "transfer classes" to study some of the more advanced levels of Mandarin Chinese as a foreign language down the street since M.I.T. didn't offer anything past third year Chinese. I had already taken an international flight to "The Republic of China" before even enrolling at school, to see about "The Yellow Man" or the people with whome the USMC and U.S. Army had waged war for almost 35 years - prior to fighting things out in Dallas, TX during the 1980's festivities.
At the center of all of this, needs to be kept in mind the value of education, knowledge and a desire to discover things as an alternative to ignorance. In the century that led up to the Rise of China which was in full force by 1992, words like "governmental exam system" were pretty common in China, and ought to have been very common knowledge for anybody in the American University System, "academia," to think about. People who think about power being wielded from the barrel of a gun, a hand-grenade, a rocket propelled grenade, or an F-15 rarely have the insight one needs into the human qualities that make a society. Of all the Marines that ever lived, I would argue that "Gomer Pyle, USMC" would probably be thought of as the most memorable soldier in American History. I don't actually know if Gomer Pyle ever actually fought in the European or Asian theaters of war during the 40's, 50's or 60's, but the "Golly Sergeant Carter" was usually a harbinger of some very low-grade IQ. I mean, that was the point of the TV show! This man is the smartest guy. (Usually funny, though).
"When all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail."
In the 1980's, as I have said, CONSTRUCTION was the center of anything considered to be "progress." That's what American's did to make America. What began in 1909 with the world's first skyscraper, "The Woolworth Building" in lower Manhattan, New York City (built by F.W. Woolworth, owner of Woolworth's Stores) continued for almost 9 decades (90 years). The city I lived in until 1993 was literally built out of the ground in the 1970's and 80's. When my dad first got to Richardson Texas 75080 - we lived on the "edge of town." It was a beautiful house, though it was completely rebuilt in 1984 after living their for two years. For a little while, a neighbor donated some chickens which frolicked in our front yard. Growing up, I literally watched the city-line move North, street, by street, by street. Today it is at the point that I could drive for 30 minutes before even reaching "the end of civilization" of North Dallas from the home where I grew up, but in 1982, everything north of my home was farmland. The "Force Majeur" or "The Great Construction" had been building a University (now University of Texas at Dallas) just a couple of blocks away from my home. I remember my second grade year our Teacher (Mrs. Gobin) putting all the kids of a school bus one time to drive to the farmland two blocks North where the University now sits to go out and pick bell peppers, cotton, and other various vegetables. To keep some of this in perspective, for those who do not know much about Texas Pollen or Texas Ragweed, it used to be a tremendous problem. So much civilization and construction has changed a lot of things, but weeds were everywhere, and I came home that day with such a serious case of sinus problems, that I went to see the school nurse. You know what they fed to me that day? Cocaine. For those who don't know, even drugs were not thought of as "that bad" when I was younger. Just the tiniest drop in the nose will cure a sinus problem immediately, and the kept some in the school medical center.
I wrote a lot about the stories when I was getting ready for college. Today, I have a brain-control guy (I like to call him "My Master") and he orders me around, and plays old movies in my brain all the time. I don't know the number of people in Dallas who, today, 2018, have been implanted with electrical circuits in their bodies. But this is what began in 1995. I don't actually know what I would remember about my childhood or my early life here in Dallas if I had not written those journals. I did write them, I wrote dozens or hundreds of pages, and YES, they were seized in 1995, 1996 etc and stored on government computers that are still here in Dallas (and probably Washington D.C.) too. The story about coming home telling my dad at age 8 about how great Cocaine is at clearing up sinus, courtesy of the school nurses is something I think of quite strangle. Anyways, I often have both my own, and the parents and even (former) friends journals read to me throughout my day, today, September 2018.
In 1995, the "factional remnants" of the U.S. Government began a different policy. The words "Force Majeur" are really the best way to describe so much of life prior to 1995. The answer is difficult to explain! If I decided that I had some really great ideas - it would be tantamount to telling rooms full of dudes who had carried bazooka for a while, and shovels and construction equipment and other points in their life that "Hey! Why don't we forget about all this stuff, and try my idea!" Who the hell are you is the type of mentality that people had. I don't know, I don't know who you are. Are you one of those crazies that will shoot me tomorrow?
Who are these "bad boys" of today? Where are they? Many of them have aged 20 years since the human-experiments started. Where did they go? Were are they working? Who is there? Well, let's just say they aren't a crack squad of Harvard Graduates or M.I.T. educated engineers sitting in the offices of "The Encampments At" the Texas Instruments Sprawl or (some, but not all) of the North Dallas Sky-scraper office space. Earlier I brought up the concept of "government exams" are one great way to weed out day-time experimenters in government and leadership. In the U.S. in 1993, one "fledgling attempt" at such a concept was the "College Board Examinations." The college boards include things like "A.P. Chemistry" tests. There are College-Board tests for English Literature, History, World History, Physics, Calculus, Biology, Computer Science and even Music. These are the kinds of tests that determine whether a person is capable of leading. The kinds of people who ought to be weeded out are almost identical to the "Talking Idiots" that are seen on televised broadcasts today. Just because you have formed a "Conservative Opinion" about abortion, doesn't mean you know the difference between a capacitor, and resistor, or a work by Doestoyevksy. Modern city electric grids are built with transformers (inductors) and power-plants that require upkeep. Having a broad-liberal education about a lot of things is important if you want to lead people to a brighter tomorrow.
The problem we faced could be described with things like this: "O.K. Torello (my name), these schools are so violent so how are we supposed to get this 'education' of which you so brazenly and often speak?" And, they were violent. In year 1992, I had been studying my homework assignments six hours a night sometimes. I saw the path forward, and accepted that become a police officer to curb the violence was the precise reason we had violence. Armed, radicalized, militants ran everything. I buried myself in books. In the years I was in High School I, literally, brought home from the school (after finding the following objects on the floor) hand-grenades, shot-guns, bottles of prescription pills, and every kind of assortment of paraphernalia and weaponry one could think of. I tried to dump them at the local police station, but they mostly yelled at me for it. Do you know what it is like to try to defuse a "pressure cooker explosion maker?" I do. Somebody pulled the fire alarm one day and we all ran out of class, and their was one sitting in the hall. I spent two hours myself, thinking about what to do. There was a 911 (police department) to call, but those guys would show with more weaponry then you could shake a stick at. I eventually realized it was "kind of a dud" and brought in a thing to cover my ears, a rope, and a firm piece of metal to protect me. Mostly, with shielding, not going deaf is the main target. I turned the device on its side, and dumped it in the little ponds that were near the school that day. Classes were held the next morning - with the litany of serious students who attended all the college-board classes, and the looneys who didn't care, and wandered the halls.
So who were these looneys? Where did they go to work? What do they do know? Where are all these "soldiers" who did so much damage to my childhood friends that by the time I was 18 and at college, all I could tell people was that "Texas is not really a 'white state' (mostly white-people)" at all. I didn't have any teachers I could tell my college professors about who really knocked my socks off. I mean, I did. Those teachers that I had as a child gave everything they had to the students growing up. And they did - in spite of police and military security. I mean, those were the terrorists!
So where did all these terrorists go? Did the Dallas Police and the United States Military face court marshaling over this? Did the military-drug-WMD fueled rampages of the Reagan (#40) and Bush (#41) get reformed by government? Not at all! As "The Department Brain Control Offices" exploded, they took their solider and police uniforms off and began traficking human beings using the TV's that are in brains.
This *was* the Iraq and Afghanistan War - mostly a total lie, while the terrorists took the office towers of Dallas - construction as a way of life was slowed to a crawl. They gave up their guns and their shovels, while "all the little lambs" trying to go to college got "free electrodes" shoved into their central nervous systems. Free mind-control, at no cost to you! As seen on TV!
And yes... they were, are, and probably continue to be openly at war with "intelligence." That's what "Counter-Intelligence" means. I don't like smart guys! I am not with "The Intelligentsia." And the school shooters we have had on TV for the past decade ought to be a testament to the types of people who run this country from the shadow of lock-down office tower.
The purpose of these pages is to document the most apocalyptic human-rights atrocity in human-history: hypno-programming the american-slave. Slaves in the United States are implanted and turned into automotons using electrical implants in their bodies. The slave-traffickers hide in the office-towers in and around Dallas, watching security-cameras, stealing money, and sexually assaulting human-beings.
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Mr. Ralph Torello Sir. I read your post. Hanh Le. Richardson Public Library. 9.18.18 (T) I was only able to write a few sentences.
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