I have relatives in my family (who, though getting older, now) had parents from Eastern Europe. Yes, there were a lot of "writers" in Russia, and thinking about writing is always on my mind for a lot of different reasons. Russia never had a "Beatles" or an "Elvis Presley" like America did over-here, but they had lots of famous Authors, of all kinds, especially philosophy. In fact, when Hitler burned all of the books, he was, in effect, fighting the Russian Tsars... So there's the "broken record" part... So, I'm going to add to that and say that one thing which usually makes a piece of paper (or HTML Page) a lot more interesting to read is hearing about the concept known as OTHER PEOPLE. That's not always the easiest thing to do when you are combating a Biological-Electric Secret Weapon that influences what you think, say & do.
Dostoevsky has an entire book that is literally about a lady named Duena (pronounced like the Spanish Word
'Doña' which just means Ma'am, or Lady). After North Dallas Brain Control decided to shove famous works of Russian Literature in my face, I have heard the audio book for
Crime and Punishment a few more times than I would have ever wanted to. Anyway, noticing the differences between THIS BLOG and some really famous books, makes me a little depressed & sad, but there is literally nothing that I can do about it.
I'm at "work" right now, and I say that with quotation-marks because I'm just at the library, across from Dallas City Hall, and there isn't anybody paying me any kind of direct-salary that is 'legally correlated' for my presence or absence of being here. I get a Welfare Check from NDBC, and in return, I get to come to the library and write hours-and-hours (hundreds of thousands of lines) of Java Code. Also, whenever my master has decided to permit me to write to this "thing" (Blog) that I've been throwing down, I do.
I have a stupid
Yahoo! E-Mail that I've had for years and years. The first time I ever registered an e-mail account was in 1997 while I was a student @
M.I.T., and it was with Yahoo. Since around the end of 2020 (I think, not sure), I've attached a little signature to the end of E-Mails when I send them. It's attached, here, directly below this paragraph. What it means is that I've been psychologically-conditioned for a long enough time (since 1995) that I have learned a lot about what type of
'Free Decisions' that
'My Master' (the person or people who have decided that they 'own me' as a human-being) is going to allow me to do in any given day. What I do on any given day is very often (but not always)
'A Surprise' to me, each morning that I wake up. It is, however, always within the boundaries or confines of a list of 'expected-behaviors' from which there is an extremely short list that they may choose. For quite a number of years, go to a public library and type more Java, HTML, CSS or Java-Script code has been the most common daily surprise to me. Anyway, here is my e-mail signature.
To me, this is one of the most important things that I ever say. I mean, if you think that taking slavery laying down is something I did readily or easily, well, think again! However, having been Hypno-Programmed for over 25 Years, I happen to know that trying to use a computer to type a letter about how much I hate being brain-washed is the type of thing that should be listed as the Webster's Dictionary Definition for the word 'impossible.' That really causes (at least with me, anyway, I have no idea what you think) to ask, so why am I now being allowed to say anything about this 'Biological-Electric Warfare'? Well... I don't know! However, it really seems important to me to keep saying, over-and-over, that these very words you are reading right now would have been fully-impossible to put together on any HTML Page that I would have written in the past 25 Years.
I have an Audio-Video Headset that is surgically implanted inside my body. The ear-piece doesn't need to be that big at all, or consume more electricity than a small watch. Visuals are more difficult, because they consume more power, but the visual part of the experiment can be replaced by audio-broadcasts very easily - to a brain / mind / person that has been forcibly-brainwashed for many years. I mean, this letter right here, this blog-post you are reading right now, is just me going into my
Court-Room Stenographer mode, and these words you are reading right now aren't exactly the type of thing I'm going to think up while sitting in a library-room filled with Homeless Dallas Citizenry. (Yes, the regime loves to corral poor-people into libraries so they can call them stupid, and tell them to get a job).
I couldn't find any pictures of the front-door of this building - the way it usually looks - and though I could go home and get my camera, I'll just leave this picture here.
City Hall is directly across the street, but showing them together is difficult, so I'll leave it alone.
So that's where I am, right now, typing. So, my dad. I'm currently 46, and will be 47 years old in less than a month. My dad is not alive anymore, and I've shouted at my bugs (audio surveillance devices) thousands of times that it really was "murder" when he died! I know, that they know that I know... that he could have lived longer, but ...
One of the many consequences of brain-washing people is that people become distant from others - even when the other person is standing directly in front of you or them! ... And it was demonstrated that my dad did have implants (as does my mom!)
When he passed away, here was 78 Years Old, so there really isn't any sensible way to say a thing about any of it. It's kind of personal to include all the details of the "Hospital Visit" - so I'm just not going to. When I say I would give my life towards the cause of
An Armed Invasion of Washington D.C. - it's not a joke to me! I really would! These words aren't empty, mostly, they just fall under the general category of
"A Complete Joke" - since I literally cannot walk out of my front-door in the morning if Dallas Brain Control has decided that I'm going to be staying at home on any given day of the week.
One of "The Voices" that I am always hearing
favorite jokes in the whole world (one that actually make me laugh a little bit - they are always reading jokes to me), is that I'm going re-live some kind of "hey-day" of mine, and apply for a job back on Wall-Street. Funny Part being that right as I get into the Job Interview, I'm going to pee all over myself. Biological-Electrical Warfare really is that powerful. Just the smallest amount of electrical-current to the body's nervous system is enough to force you to have to go to the bathroom... or else!
In my 20's, I lived here for a while. This is .
45 Wall Street, NYC, 10005, financial-area apartments. It was one of the greatest nightmares one could imagine to attempt to write
Java Software for a
Wall Street Bank, all the while being hypno-programmed to do so! The New York City Piece-Of-Shit Regime used to love to try to make me pee on myself whenever I had a meeting to go to!
I would walk across the street in the morning from my apartment to the old J.P. Morgan Headquarters Building @ 60 Wall street. Today (this morning) waiting at the DART Train Station, I started hearing the "Dad Software Module" going off inside my head. I know the difference between Schizophrenia and the American-Government. I mean, the hardpest part of all of this, is wondering when my own mind is trying to remind me of something, versus when the Dallas Piece of Shit Government is trying to program me.
Both my dad, and my dad's dad (grandpa) had worked on Wall Street, in New York City - although my dad never had anything particularly nice to say about the place. The Wall Street 'days of glory' ended during the years 1940 ... 1945Mostly, you just have to know something, about American History to understand much about the place. I tried to write something about American History, and the North-East. It's where the country was founded. There's not a lot I can say when 'My Master' only allows me a few hours of 'writing time.' One paragraph about 'The History of Wall Street' just feels kind of dumb, more than anything else. I'll say that those who know about 'Pre-War' America, know that the country's real capital (before The Pentagon, and before National Security) was more likely thought of as the Island of Manhattan.
The Years when Wall Street contributed the most to "Human Society" should be thought of right around the time that (for example)
The Woolworth Building was created on The Earth. That year was 1910 / 1991, and it was the tallest thing that man-kind had ever come close to creating! These types of real-estate & construction projects were exactly what American excelled at, back years ago when America was a great place to be.
Today's blog post began for me, sitting on the Dallas Area Rapid Transit Light Rail Train to Downtown Dallas. 'The Voices' that The Software were saying to me were a correlated series of phrases about my dad, and my blog. I'm always very excited to use my own brain to think about writing about this "life" that God seems to have given me. Usually, if it is anything about family, 'they' love to start chanting all kinds of nonsense that sounds more like Darth Vader being your father than anything else. Seeing images inside my skull about my dad being juxtaposed with a computer-keyboard kind of mad my walk to work a little exciting. I mean, this place is filled with homeless-bums (mostly black, a few white), and is never the most exciting place to be. Well... they are reminding me that my dad also went to school in Cambridge, Massachusetts. He also applied to Wall Street, and worked on "The Street." In his day, there wasn't much work to do, and they have read many entries to me about the work my father did on Wall Street. That is up to and including getting part-time jobs at an Auto-Body Mechanic, while working on Wall Street - since there wasn't any more work for New York City Investment Bankers after the Wars Started.
It truly, TRULY, sucks that this regime has papers written by my parents decades ago saved on their Windows File-System and Databases. My dad used to keep a lot of notes & notebooks. In 1985, our family received a Macintosh Computer, and a lot of his early years writings were typed and entered into that computer.