As you stare into the vacuum of his eyes, and say "Do you want to make a deal?"

Well, guess what? After over two years, my Easy-Chair broke. My feet get numb, often. Yesterday, after a completely failed attempt to get more than 25 minutes of exercise done out behind my apartment, I came back inside and felt bad about it. I went through my master's "eat a little more cholesterol, it will help your nerves, joints and digestive track - just don't add any salt" advice. I did feel more tired and groggy when I started up (which is what I was warned about). Of course, throughout the course of my entire adult life, it has never really felt like "the advice" piped directly into my brain was very sincere or honest.

Man thinks 'cause he rules the Earth, he can do with it as he please
And if things don't change soon, he will
Oh, man has invented his doom
First step was touching the moon

Now, there's a woman on my block
She just sit there as the night grows still
She say who, gonna take away his license to kill?

Now, they take him, and they teach him, and they groom him for life
And they set him, on a path where he's bound to get ill
Then they bury him with stars
Sell his body like they do used cars

Now, there's a woman on my block
She just sit there facin' the hill
She say who gonna take away his license to kill?

Now he's hell-bent for destruction, he's afraid and confused
And his brain has been mismanaged with great skill
And all he believes are his eyes
And his eyes, they just tell him lies

But there's a woman on my block
Sitting there in a cold chill
She say who gonna take away his license to kill?

Bob Dylan, "License to Kill", the later years (1983)

I write Java Software often. Rather, I need to say that I transcribe Java - meaning that I have an extremely strong suspicion that the code I write I see inside my eye-sockets, inside my brain, before I've typed it. It would be apropos to say it feels like I'm dragged around the Internet all day long with electronic fishing hooks shoved into my eye-sockets. Do you know what a real bastard does in the United States of America? He brags about his crimes. He brags about his crimes to his victims regularly... He finds uncanny, complicated and masterfully thought-out ways to brag about the cruelty and the crime that he commits on a daily basis. He does it in ways that make discussing the attacks and manipulative behavior difficult and impossible to talk about with other people in society.

The content of what we hear is designed, before all else, to make you mute regarding anything about the power and authority in the U.S. (or anything actually important at all!)

So I was at work today, for about 8 hours. The library building where I go is directly in front of the Dallas City Hall Building, and there is a giant two-story window directly in front of me. Today, is June 29th, 2022. A few days ago The Internet was screaming that the Abortion Case was overturned. There were throngs of women out front yelling and screaming about "their bodies, and there rights." It seems fake as hell to me. Nobody out there is singing my tune; nobody out there is talking about me or my immediate families body-invasive government abuse of power! I like to tell people I cannot prove things about mind-control. I like to say it for a lot of reasons, and right now what 'they' are bringing up is my total lack of access to X-Ray Equipment.

Well, I have mentioned before that I got to talk to Bob Dylan before in my life. I believe it happened twice in my life, although the first time was when I was just a few months shy of 16 years old. During the Spring of my 10th Grade year of High School, it was 1991, and "The Allies" were on TV for about 6 months bombing Baghdad with the entire Associated Press calling them heroes and liberators. I knew perfectly well, that anything about fighting in the Persian Gulf was being driven by "The Nightmare" which I liked to call "The Terrorist State of Virginia." Fear ruled a lot of America, and filming U.S. Military Tanks open fire on The Auditorium of J.J. Pearce High School in Richardson, Texas is the type of school massacre that was never permitted on CNN by the National News Crews.



This is the main front entrance to my High School (today), and just to the left is a Giant Auditorium that was actually built the year I went to Pearce. Inside of 12 months (or maybe 24 months), this newly-constructed auditorium was being blown to bits by U.S. Military Armored Divisions. The Football Field had Anti-Aircraft Guns on it my senior year. (A lot of teachers and kids were killed there in the 1980's & 1990's). Not many people my age have High School Educations because of it.

So... Bob Dylan did show up to give a talk to our World History Class - it was part of one of Washington D.C.'s attempts to drum up support for their government regime (which many people hated). Dick Cheney was also there that semester to give a talk to our school. I remember these "incidents" sort of well now; although if you had asked me five years ago if I had ever met a famous Musician, or the Secretary of Defense, I would have likely walked away laughing to myself. A long time ago, when I was capable of thinking about stuff, I would use my brain to write a lot of things down.

Regardless of what I may or may not have written down in a spiral notebook 35 years ago, I don't have such notes today. I know with all my heart I would have likely asked both of them quite a number of questions. I did make a trip to the CD & Record Store before Mr. Dylan's visit - and I actually remember the meetup using more than just "The Electronic Part of My Brain" - meaning "The Biological Part" (a.k.a. "Me") also remembers buying some CD's so I could play them in front of Messr. Dylan in class when he gave his talk. Do you know why? Because these Fuck-Face Son's a Bitches stole my High School Workbooks and saved their contents on their computers! One of their favorite Software Program's to use is the one where they terrorize me with my own personal stories and writings!

Now, I know that I would have asked the man some questions in class that day. I definitely remember the armed and dangerous Security Personnel that followed him along and opened fire in my school. From what I remember, Bob Dylan was hopeless scared and embarrassed by the whole incident (shooting kids), but as a trapped musician in a Nation being terrorized by U.S. Infantry and Security Personnel, there wasn't much he could do about it.

I was 15 at the time, and knew all about music, but not really enough (yet) to talk for more than 15 minutes in class that day. My dad, on the other hand, ended up speaking to the man for several hours that night. Now, here, today it is June of 2022, and I'm talking about a little incident that occurred in 1991, like it was yesterday. I'm not 15 years old, anymore, I'm 47. The name of the girl that was killed at my High School that day was 'Cerese Burnett.' I could go to the local library right now, and show you her picture, since she was in the Yearbooks there (they have them). And although Bob Dylan did spend some time talking to my dad about his career and his life - and especially about the incident with Cerese (who was killed) that day, the whole entire episode couldn't have lasted more than 12 hours (absolute maximum).

• School started at 8:15 A.M.
• The guest speaker at our World History Class arrived around 9:00 A.M.
• I think I stayed until 10 or 10:30
• Later that evening (because of the ensuing ruckus), Messr. Dylan drove by and talked to my Dad that night

Bam! That's a maximum of 12 hours of before the entire thing was over that day. I try to go to work five days a week to either write or work on developing my software. Beginning around March of this year (2022), I was laying in my bed one morning, hearing and seeing my High School from when I was young kid of Age 16 asking questions about Louis XIV (le Roi Soleil). My eye-socket chips are blaring out famous songs into my skull (With God on Our Side - YT-Link, or One too many Mornings - YT-Link)

I like these songs; I don't like being forced to listen to them whenever a Government-Rape Regime decides I must listen to them. So, and here is the point. Not only do I not like hearing this Regime's "interpretation" of what Bob Dylan would have said to me or to my dad 30 years ago, I like even less being distracted all day long preventing me from pursuing anything in life that I would want to.

Dylan may have spent up to 5 or 6 hours talking to my dad that night (since he was a big fan of his from the 1960's). What he did not do was move into our house here in Texas and talk to him about his career for four months.

But for several hours a week, sometimes several hours a day, I will sit here in my bed or my easy-chair, or even at work listening to pre-recorded speech of my dad speaking to Messr. Dylan. My Dad is not even alive anymore. He died the year that "The Trump Piece of Shit" ran for office (2016). I say he was killed by the machines inside him, as the government destroyed his mind with these electrical implants, and they didn't want to hear anything about that evil fuck-head (Donald Trump) from my dad. When I tell you that the goal of hypno-programming is to prevent you from saying anything of real substance, this is a text-book example of how they work. I think it's nice that my dad had a conversation about security and violence in this country back when violence ruled the streets. I think it's good that he talked to a famous man about Cerise Burnett that day, and he was very sorry, and that he had no control of a radicalized, blood drenched, and out-of-control army (my words, not anyone else's).

But that was 30 years ago, and yet today (2022), while there were throngs of screaming women out front of Dallas City Hall, yelling about their bodies because of the 'Overturning of Roe V. Wade', I am being subjugated by own past from my own High School Journals - unable to think my own thoughts about today! Unable to read or write anything other than exactly what 'they' want me to say!

And this is what it feels like to try and write Computer-Software. Today, while thinking about writing something about the topic of Bob-Dylan, with that vacant stare coming out of my eyes, face and expression, I got to edit my HTML Library. I didn't show up at the library intending to do any one thing in particular, but with the repeated and incessant Bio-Electric Misery Engine that is inside my body, I don't ever happen to have the opportunity to make my own decisions. I'm not allowed to make choices about what Software Projects I write. I hear possibilities and suggestions all day long, and when I sit at a keyboard, the Dallas Regime will give me the option of further-developing a Software Feature of their choosing - or walking out of my library and wandering outside until it's time to go to sleep.



This is a Sherman Tank inside of a Museum (first built in the 1940's, during WWII). In the 1980's, these types of "Armored Cavalry" were occasionally seen parking in North Dallas; and even occassionally patrolling around North Dallas. Now, if the evil piece a shit inside and driving these fucking things didn't have any brains (and most did not) - you could also see these things firing on High School; killing teachers, and even children. Such photographs are exactly the kinds of photos that I took when I was a kid. Both of my (concerned) parents did too - but all of them were rounded up by the United States Radicalized Gestapo Departments that formed the mid to late 1990's, in reaction to the violence. "Their" favorite photo to flash inside my eye-sockets is of a giant Howitzer which had blown a hole in my middle school when I was thirteen years old, in 1988.

Before I close this post, I want to say that I can type these words - only with the aid and assistance of the very people who I am actively trying to condemn. I often like to say they are black ("African American") - but I can only see the reflection through these Bio-Electric Devices, and I am never actually able to meet them in person. I don't like living in Dallas, and I would give one of my arms and legs away for the right to live in a free country (not the United States). Below, is a brief description of the other work I did in the library yesterday, and totday.

Syntax Hi-Liting is a computer-programming term that I hear a lot about inside my own body. The amount of importance attached to the whole idea is astronomically blown sky-high by these awful things inside me. Everybody who has ever owned a computer, sort of knows what computer codes look like. Usually, computer codes are a mashed-up looking collection of English Words, along with numbers and all kinds of punctuation symbols like parenthesis, brackets, and even '<' and '>' symbols. Syntax Hi-liting is the following conversion. Below the original plain, ordinary vanilla looking text is marked up to make it colorful:

 // Loop Variables
 LV      l   = new LV(sPos, ePos, html);
 TagNode tn;

 for (int i=l.start; i < l.end; i++)

     // Only instances of Opening-TagNodes need to be checked - All others should be skipped
     if ((tn = ((HTMLNode) html.elementAt(i)).openTag()) != null)

         // AUM.Set does not require the attribute to already exist
         // **OR** Check for minimum possible str-length to have the attribute at all.
         if ((mode == AUM.Set) || (tn.str.length() >= (MIN + tn.tok.length())))  

             // If AUM.update returns a **NEW** (non-null) TagNode, replace the old one.
             if ((tn = mode.update(tn, innerTag, itValue, quote)) != null)

After a Syntax-HiLiter is finished, it is a lot easier to look at on a web-page, as below:

// Loop Variables
 LV      l   = new LV(sPos, ePos, html);
 TagNode tn;

 for (int i=l.start; i < l.end; i++)

     // Only instances of Opening-TagNodes need to be checked - All others should be skipped
     if ((tn = ((HTMLNode) html.elementAt(i)).openTag()) != null)

         // AUM.Set does not require the attribute to already exist
         // **OR** Check for minimum possible str-length to have the attribute at all.
         if ((mode == AUM.Set) || (tn.str.length() >= (MIN + tn.tok.length

             // If AUM.update returns a **NEW** (non-null) TagNode, replace the old one.
             if ((tn = mode.update(tn, innerTag, itValue, quote)) != null)

Now, there are hundreds of ideas that flow through my mind throughout the course of any given day of the week. Keeping any one of them in focus is the challenge that anybody who wants to take his or her life seriously faces with Bio-Electric Government weapons inside their body. I have such a desire to write about being "tricked into" writing Software Developer Tools, by the Human-Trafficking Regime. For me, in year 2015 I was being encouraged to go to a branch of the Dallas Public Library to try and work on reading Mandarin Chinese News Web-Sites. I say "

Learning Spanish with a Brain Implant

Waking up at 5:00 A.M. to have Coffee and transcribe a Java Programming System that is growing larger every day requires a lot of "other things" on which to focus in life. About a week ago I received another lesson from the Dallas Regime about writing, and giving any credence to thought that I could be BOTH a person who writes Java Software, AND have enough outside interests to be able to think about Reading, Writing, History and other people. Truthfully, even calling myself a successful Software Engineer, given that growing a business around an idea that is supposed to help other Software People is next to impossible. The radicalized branch of government that runs these Brain-Control Software-Systems does not like people trying to engage in intellectual-pursuits. At the top of that list, as I have known since I was 18, Years old would be any software-program that is designed to communicate information from foreign countries, about foreign-countries, or translate anything about foreign-languages.

You know? I don't really like Video Games. To me, it is really sad to waste more than an a hour or two in any given week playing "Risk: Quest for Global Domination" (like I did when I was 15 Years Old, going to stay at my Uncle's House in the State of Virginia). Since Year 2020, there have been many months when the Micro-Chips that are inside my Eye-Sockets made no attempt to force me to waste my life & my time staring at some idiotic maps and trying to "Conquer Australia" over and over. And I don't want to talk about this at all. How can a man write something that is against the grain of things that the government considers real threats? How can a man write anything about intelligence or anything intellectual at all when his mind is being bombarded by random and extraneous points, lies, idiocy, and irrelevant facts (about nothing) - on and off - throughout his whole life?




I know this inside and out, if you are playing the A.I., you must start with Australia or South America, becausee trying anything else is likely a 75% chance of being completely annihilated. I played this board-game as a kid, and I would have preferred it to stay that way. I don't get to make my own decisions.

So in the past week and a half, I've probably spent at least 60 hours typing some software project that is nothing more than a collection of "commits" from some other "guy" from years ago. I like the idea of parsing HTML, and making a much more powerful software documentation tool. It's a great idea. It's an idea I thought of - when I was a High School student living at my Mother's in 1992. It is such an awful feeling! Programming a computer was one of the many dreams I had as a kid! I mean, just the thought of what these evil people are using a computer to do to "The Americans" should be enough to make you sick. It should be enough to make you take up arms against the American Government. It is! Do you know what is worse than all that? Using my own dreams to hurt me. Using my own dreams to take advantage of me; take advantage of all the hard work I did do earlier in life; using these dreams and these ideas for nothing than the purpose of creating servants and slaves and idiots out of legions of people in Dallas and even my family.

Today is Juneteenth, and it is a holiday that's they create to support the idea of freedom over slavery. Here I am, sitting in my stupid chair thinking about what feels like an eternity since the last time I was allowed to write anything to my blog. You know what's worse than that? It's the thought that even having the ability to write anything necessitates - mandates & requires - my owner, my master - to decide that he feels bad enough about his actions before he sits down and puts together a self-critical letter. My master has to first write about what his Regime is doing in Dallas - before this software can encourage & promote me to type that letter by transmitting to these fucking implants! ... Anyway... I guess after close to two weeks without writing he (or 'they') has decided to have me transcribe this one.

It feels like being up against an army of selfish, greedy, self-serving liars who are perfectly willing to do nothing but invent stories all day long - and say those stories on TV, and write them on blogs. The feeling of such hopelessness as I spend 6, 8 up to 14 hours in a given day transcribing Java Code, HTML, CSS, Regular-Expressions and Java-Script - all the while wishing I could spend that exact amount of time condemning this ludicrous regime of empty, phony egomaniacs through words, actions, thoughts and deeds. Every waking minute I think another thought, another sentence, and another idea about what I would do on TV. Not all of my thoughts involve me chopping their fucking heads off - although if I ever met "Don Lemon" or "Laura Ingraham" or "Bill o'Reilly" nothing would stop me from gouging out their eyes and dismembering their arms and legs ... and the Dallas Mind Control Regime really could prove to you that those thoughts of violence are their thoughts which they have turned into my thoughts!

On Wednesday of this past week I was actually permitted to sleep until 7:00 A.M. My wife usually gets up earlier than me. In any case, I really like to exercise because I am a lot different than a lot of the other Menial-Labor Brain-Control Victims in Dallas who spend their whole lives wearing aprons and staring out the windows of some small fast-food, auto-repair, or clothing-apparel American-Franchise Chain-Store. Such things are so popular among the regime because these stores truly guarantee one thing - you need absolutely zero-intelligence or education to work there! Stupid people are much easier to persuade into illegal behavior and dissuade from questioning leadership or choosing intellectual pursuits. So, I sit in front of a computer a lot more than most people in this city. I'm not going to tell you that "it makes me smarter" - because in all reality, what I read on the Internet and what I look it is controlled - even mandated - by the selections and choices that my master makes when he comes up with my daily program.. Sitting around thinking "I'm smarter than everybody else" is not what I choose to do (although listening to such audio-broadcasts, indeed, is something I've put up with my whole adult life).

So the other day I woke arond 7, and was out behind my room where I live doing my exercises in the morning. Going to the gym in the mornings to lift weights and do bench press (in year 2018) is how it started for me. I spent almost an hour doing a long list of calisthentics, jumping-jacks, wind-mills and eventually some Karate Kicks & Punches from a YouTube Video that was shoved in my face one fine day by the regime. Since I left You-Fit Gyms in 2021, I have not signed up for a new one yet, and instead I try to do as many of the muscle-building exercise after Calisthenics as possible. Pushups, Sit-Ups, Crunches etc... 'They' work with me on making sure I don't messs up and get hurt. I didn't get too hurt in 2021 at all. It's sort of an agreement with 'them', because otherwise I wouldn't do any of it. This year I was on exercise ybreak for most of January, Februar & March. Since April Fools Day, though, I have been encouraged to go out back and do exercise for an hour twice a week. It is always at the discretion of the people who give me my daily orders - everyday!

Recently, I have been receiving the "Exercise Cool Down" lessons about what to do after you are finished - but before you go out to work or grocery shopping. Trying to have thoughts about my own plans, my daily activities and my own behavior has next to no meaning at all to me. Every day feels like "Surpise! ... Today is...!" I don't know what to call these "lessons" that I get everyday. Since I associate the word "lesson" with something which an educated teacher does for a student, calling the "Excercise Cool Down" AV Software Broadcast (into my brain!) "a lesson" seems like a real insult to the whole concept of lessons! It did help a little bit. If you want to avoid pain in your extremeties which is very easy for somebody doing muscle-related exercise with a brain-implant to experience, cooling down and letting your brain relax before doing any Java Programming is sort-a important. Just so you know, if you ever do weight-lifting, the muscles (especially in your legs) are, sort-of, stealing a lot of attention from your body. It can make your feet and hands depleted of the nutrition, and nerve-pain will happen to you if you don't 'cool down.'

I don't just do Software-Programming, I do as much exercise as I can. Back in the 1990's it was popular for the newly formed computer companies to build gyms at their sites. When sitting in front of a computer for 10 hours in a day, you can get sick. So... afterwards, 'they' suggested that my 'cool down' be to ride on the DART Bus to a store which meant stopping at by LBJ, Skillman Station in Garland.




A DART Blue Line Light-Rail Stop in Garland Texas, which is a district of Dallas that is in the North and Eastern part of the City. In the summer, in the morning before it gets hot (and mostly all of fall-winter-spring) it is a very relaxing place to sit. You see all kinds of people here, although nobody says anything to each-other. 40 years ago, when I was a kid, a place like this (if it had been finished) people wouldn't have shutup!

On my way to the little bench they have set up, I noticed a Mexican Looking person sitting there. Immediately, the micro-chips had me looking at the schedule for Bus 243, which was going to get me to Plano & Arapaho, and ending with Arapaho Center Station. Recently (January of 2022), the Dallas Regime cancelled every bus that they had created and "published" this new set of busses to run. Needless to say, I don't know any of the schedules, and the once-great DART punctuality (the busses have always run on time in this city) has actually fallen. I've been riding the bus since I don't remember, since blacklisting me has guaranteed I do not own a vehicle for very long. My previous car, which was my dad's was smashed to pieces, intentionally, with me in it!. That was the Spring of 2015, but this past Wednesday, I was waiting to ride to Plano & Belt Line on #243. There was a Mexican Guy, and I am always wondering what the "Program in the Sky" is going to spring on me. Though I do not believe the entire Dallas Population are all robots, and certainly the Master Race doesn't biologically-implant itself, there are certainly many robot-like people here.

All of a sudden, I remembered some of the lessons I had had the day before. While riding the bus on the way to work, I was listening to an audio-video track (without wearing any head-phones, or looking at a cell-phone) about conjugating Spanish Verbs. My earlier years as a Java Software Programmer were based on a (very misplaced) belief that my Internet Foreign News Translations business were going to turn into something that actually earned a little money. I know what I want to do with my "Spanish News Board", but when I'm in front of a computer at the Dallas Library, or in my Easy-Chair at home, I have the ability to write the methods, functions, HTML, CSS and Documentation that "the regime" has selected for me - or I can sit and complain and not write anything at all! The thought that I'll work on something of my choosing didn't seem like a very "foreign concept" when I started, but certainly in Year 2022 it is.

The truth about the "Mind Control Spanish Tutorial Broadcasts" are actually quite a bit less offensive and easier on my mind than the types of broadcasts I've had in years past. Images of very large tattooed Mexican's sodomizing me in while locked in a prison-cell - while the guards stand and around and laugh at me (all for attempting to purchase a Spanish-Learning Book at Barnes & Noble) were a lot worse.




Spanish is a European Language that came to the America's on ships several hundred years ago. The most vehement opponents to the European Colonial System were the English, not the Indians in Latin & South America. The English Colonies in Massachusetts, New York & Virgina were very different than those in Mexico, Panama & South America George Washington, who fired "the shot heard around the world" didn't particularly like the 'fresh-off-the-boat' Europeans showing in the American Colonies. At the time, Mexico & Massachusetts were very different places (they still are).

So, my grand-parents actually were both "white as doves" (white-skin) who traced their lineage back to Spain. My dad was a little darker. It is alleged that both of my dad's parents were born in Mexico, although they arrived in the United States in the early 1930's when they, themselves, were in their early-to-mid 20's. They spoke fluent Spanish, and actually my dad used to say some of his earliest memories were not understanding all the kids at kindergarten.

So, on Wednesday at the DART Train, all of a sudden I had a flash of inspiration provided by "The Software Tool." It was about Spanish Verbs. I've studied foreign languages every chance that I have been permitted in my life. For many years this means I did not studying at all, but got to think about shoving burritos and Taco Bell in my face - even when I couldn't afford such things. When I lived in Boston during the September 11th / George Bush years, hearing an occassional Mexican at the Concetration Camp where I was kept spout something completely incomprehensible and saying "Hola!" was about all the practice that Boston Brain Control would a lot of me. All languages on the earth have aspects that make them "different enough" from other languages that to learn them literally means understanding that your native language simply does not have the constructs or ideas that some other language does! With Spanish (and almost all Southern-European Latin Languages) there are VERBS.

So I'm sitting there thinking about what to say... Ahem... I'm sitting there watching a cute little movie - one which sometimes looks like a rubics-cube, showing the conjugations for the verb "llegar." Next, the program switches to the word "esperar". Llegar in Spanish means to arrive, and Esperar means a lot of things, one of which is "wait" or "to wait." I'm staring at this 45 year old Mexican Guy (about my age, or possible older), wondering if the government has some kind of fight planned for me today, or if I can sit here and relax and do my Arnold Schwarzenegger Muscle Cool Down lesson and relax. Literally, that's what is going through my mind, and I have no control over it at all!




Option A: Listen and Look-At the Arnold Schwarzenegger Audio-Video Track (using a thick German Accent) telling me I need to make sure to relax my muscles after I do push-ups & crunches.




Option B Focus on the Rubics-Cube Picture that is going off in my brain telling me all about the Present-Subjunctive, Second Person Tense of 'Esperar' - which in Spanish actually turns out to be Esperes. The Past-Indicative is Esperaste, which is ultimately the word my mouth seemed to use.

I asked the guy (blurted out) if he had waited for long for the bus. 'Por cuantos minutos esperaste tuya?' I quickly followed it with (in English) 'how long you waiting for de bus?' Inventing foreign accents is the only way to get some people to listen to you. I used to do that with Mexican's all the time. Now adays I just say a lot less, but, I do get to say things in Spanish to them which wasn't something I used to be allowed to do.

Robot-Relatives in the U.S.A., and The Family-Unit - Part 2.

Well, I guess I have to write this. I have a brother driving around in a Toyota Yaris and camping all along the California-Oregon-Washington Coast. My master has been coaching me for two days regarding what to say about all of this. It may be read at CharlesTorello.com. I was actually a little excited about doing another American History Post, since my implants showed me a neat web-page with pictures from 1870 and 1880. The most important thing to say about family is that I write and think about it every chance I get. Whenever I find myself making any effort at all 'to think', I can get a little sad, and even depressed. The truth about people who live with this government attrocity, is that most people don't really "know themselves." Socrates says "Know Thyself."



A famous Rennaisance Painting of Socrates, called "Socrates Defense." Note that this was painted well over a Thousand Years after any Roman Philosophers or Politicans evers lived. It is also one of the staple / mainstay images burned into my brain through retinal implants. I guess 'they' think it gives 'them' more credibility, but it doesn't.

How can one truly understand himself / herself when not all thoughts, sights & sounds one thinks come from him or herself?

So, generally, I just have to accept that many of the things I think are being suggested by some black guy sitting in one of these offices in and around North Dallas, or Downtown Dallas where I go to do my work. Some of the most influential thoughts that man (or woman) has inside themselves are about ones closest relatives, brothers and family. Now, I am the oldest of five brothers and sisters. For years I have had 'thoughts' about the difference between inferiority complexes versus arrogance. What I get to know is that the "older brother" is more easily swayed to be 'arrogant.' Younger brothers have a slightly higher tendency to have 'inferiority complexes.'

Now, I'm going to be 47 years old, and I was put on the reproduction-blacklist (no wife, no kids) in my 20's and was totally prohibited from having any type of girlfriend. Despite working on Wall Street in my early 20's, all my money was taken from my through psychological-abuse manipulation (this was before 2001, remember), and I was flatly told to go live in a Concentration Camp up in Boston for quite a lot of the September 11th & George Bush Administration. It wasn't until Barrack Obama was the President (2008) that I was told by my Master that I would not be forced back into homeless shelters. I never got to have children or a family in my twenties because of the radicalized rape-regime which I call the Boston and New York City Department of Bio-Electric Weapons.

Thinking about writing... Thinking about thinking! So a younger brother of mine is driving around and 'camping' at all of Camp Grounds he can find on the West Coast. Now, to me, this isn't supposed to be a scary thing, right? Being happy that other people are happy is exactly the type of thing that a sane and socially well adjusted person is good at, right? Sure... You know what it is that makes "family" so much more difficult for people who "live in the Matrix?" It's not so much that someone else's happiness or success or bothering to me (as long it isn't immoral, or amoral - since Adolf Hitler was also pretty successful in many people's minds)...

It isn't other family member's happiness that bothers me, or should bother anybody who is a reasonable person - it is all the interjections, interpretations, solicitations, insults and threats that always come along for the ride when 'The Department' is involved

My wife is currently asleep right now. It's only 9:00 P.M. I'm sitting here listening to a dictation-letter, through these electronic nightmare's inside my head, and it's just the fear of the unknown that is the most troubling. It would be nice to have more conversation with people inside my home (like my wife, for instance) but that's not the easiest thing when 'The Department' has decided to "change the gears" of the standard brain broadcast contents. I have been on California's Highway One myself, but it was while I was still in college.



This is what my little-brother is currently looking at. Unfortunately, this is not what I get to see.




Unfortunately, for me, this is sort of what leaving home to go on a West Coast Road Trip looks like to me. This is a picture from The Matrix

Today is Friday, June 3rd, 2022. It's Friday Night, and the nice Vietnamese Lady that lives with me is asleep already. It's past 9:00 P.M. right now. I went downtown today (to the library), programmed a binary-file reader courtesy of the government. My exercise program is getting better and better. 'They' are currently training me in the art of Vegetable-Based Blender-Food. I made a Celery-Tomato Mix-Thing in the blender at breakfast. I actually made three of them, one with Strawberries and Bananas, and even another one with just an apple and milk. Note, that whenever you start any kind of exercise that involves muscles and muscle development, you absolutely must eat more food. The most important thing to remember about is when you start eating more, the extra food that you eat cannot be junk food, or you will get very sick. I had three breakfast smoothies today. The 'Bloody Mary' like thing (with Celery, Tomato, Vinegar, Lime, Salt, Tabasco) was actually really a great thing. My wife makes me port chops for breakfast practically seven days a week, but switching to Celery is really great morale booster.

So I'm sitting here, in my easy chair, typing and the biological part of my mind is making an effort to envision what it must be like to sit in front of computers that have the ability to push people around the city - as in my case. I like to wonder how far into the wilderness these broadcast mechanisms can go. Clearly there are Cell Phone Towers nd Internet Routers all around the America's National Parks (where Charlie is right now), or else he wouldn't be posting this stuff to his page.

But that is the whole entire attack in a nutshell - I'm only being made to feel scared because 'The Content' that I am absorbing through these Bio-Electrical Devices has changed so drastically, that I'm worried whether more capricious demands are going to be made of my life while I'm going to sleep at night. It has nothing to do with jealousy, anger or dislike of somebody else, or a brother, being happy. It doesn't! And that's what this Piece of Shit Regime does to us all. We cannot try to live and let live. There is no way when thoughts you have are being dictated not by your own heart and your mind, but by the capricious and cruel manipulative intentions of some nigger sitting in an office here in Dallas.

Attacking people at their core, to keep them distant from others is one way to keep a man down; to keep him a slave. I cannot be happy that my brother is on a road trip and trying to write about it. It's going to be filled with hundreds of additional opinions, criticisms, twisting-of-facts, and imbecilic-patriotic manipulations all of which I'm going to have to listen to courtest of my bio-electric ear-drum implants as I try to go to sleep tonight. And none of them are from my brain or my brothers brain!