On November 24th, 1999, the man that lived in the second house on the
other side of the river took out his rifle and shot himself. I want to
tell you about it; about the things that are going on that could push a
man to such an act.
I can also tell you about that man’s brother, who died in September,
1999, at age fifty-four, from a ruptured blood vessel in the frontal
lobe of his brain. And about his twenty-two year old son who died in an
unexplained accident two weeks later. And of the grandfather, now in
care for the heart attack that followed his son’s suicide.
I can’t tell you about that son’s experiences as I’m not fully informed
on them; but, I can tell you about mine, just a few miles down the road.
What I’m about to describe falls into the appalling and the incredible.
The kind of data that is gratefully dismissed and that one thankfully
ascribes to mental phenomena, reassured that some specialty or another
claims to ‘understand’ it and can even do something about it. Until it
happens to you.
The first thing I took note of, in early 1998, was a visual disturbance
in my right eye. A wiggling shimmer; an occasional ‘spark’ in the space
before me; the sudden increase in brightness of whatever I was looking
at with that eye. Then I noticed a crystaline form on my line of sight,
... the same as it did before. When the man in the essay brings his son to go fishing at the lake, the ... When the main character grows older and has his own son, he goes to this campsite on the lake, and ... to be. The man believes that he has taken the place of his father, and his son has taken the place ... story tells how this reminded the man how him and ...
like a small lens. Solitary, spiritual, and open to all types of
communications, I quickly moved through surprise, fear, discomfort,
interest, and, finally, acceptance. I got used to this ‘little lens’ a
few inches from my eye. I got used to the morphing visual effects it
created. I integrated it into my paintings, my walks in the woods, my
Soon, other things were added: I could hear a high-pitched whining sound
and my ears would often ‘click’ or pop; I felt tired, so much so that
when I lay down, I’d drop into a deep unconsciousness that didn’t hear
even the big farm tractors driving in the hay wagons not twenty feet
from the house. Then I’d often feel painful, needle-sharp jabs into my
fingers, especially when I was sitting on the couch, in the same space
for some time. Occasionally, my legs and feet got jabbed too, and an odd
sensation of “pulsing” on the surface of the skin would start on my
stomach, my shoulders, my neck, my head, and any points of contact with
whatever my body was touching.
Walking across the kitchen one day, I got shoved hard from behind. I
avoided the hot wood stove, barely. After that, there were many
incidents of “shock wave” type, especially directed at my head. When I
was working with knives or tools, shock waves would hit my hands. After
a fresh surgical incision was smashed open against a door frame, needing
a fast ride to emergency, I learned to focus my full attention on what I
was doing. Gone the relaxing, soothing motions of sweeping or raking:
the simplest task demanded concentration, with pain the penalty for me,
and damage or breakage the penalty for objects.
I woke from a nap, in the fall of 1998, my skin burning and prickling,
feeling scalded. This happened several times. In a few weeks I was
barely able to move, weakened by diaarhea, my gums and privates
bleeding, my skin peeling, my hair falling out in large amounts each
time I brushed it, my face and abdomen bloated and digestion iffy at
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best. In those two weeks, I had lost ten pounds. Strange to feel so
sick, yet have no fever, no cold symptoms and no name-able illness. It
seemed to pass, whatever it was. Not much later, I woke one morning with
a large and painful hole in my gum, going deep under the tooth. Several
rinses a day with iodine and salt in warm water got the ‘infection’
under control, but the sore left a deep and sensitive scar.
The birds had started hitting the windows with dismaying frequency, even
with the glass soaped to eliminate reflections. The squirrels regularly
missed their jumps and fell to the ground, stunned. I watched a
chipmunk run for a hole in the shed door, big enough for a groundhog to
go through. He missed and smashed into the thick wood. By June, 1999,
most of the usual small wildlife had left the area and many of the field
flowers were gone. As were the butterflies and the ladybugs, the snakes
and the toads that worked my organic garden. In the garden itself, for
the second year in a row, my carrot and lettuce crops failed to
germinate and the cucumbers that did grow gave a poor and misshapen
Light aircraft flying low over the area eight to ten times a day, from
February and on through the summer, dropped bands of particles, five or
six inches wide, separated by gaps of about half an inch. The foliage
got increasingly shiny and rain formed very large, iridescent drops that
glittered in even the faintest light. A slick liquid appeared on
everything at ground level, like a fine silicone lubricant. On the skin,
it created a teflon-like coating that penetrated eyes, ears, sinuses,
throat and that wouldn’t come off with soap or detergent. This skin got
very hot very fast when exposed to sunlight, painfully so. Above the
blocked sinuses, temple-area “hot spots” formed.
In June, 1999, new elements were added: a freaky, and frightening,
“drilling” aimed at the sinuses and the palate; and, a noticeable
increase in the electro-magnetic charge at ground level, felt as a
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tingle on the lower legs. The electrical charge in the house went way
up, tripping ground fault circuit interrupt outlets to the “off”
position with nothing plugged into them; creating surges in operation of
anything that was on; and, turning the air in the kitchen into a blue
haze of electromagnetic charge. I got very ill from this, my heart
beating at an impossible rate and my brain trying to push its way out
that temple-area hotspot. Chemical bonds in the house were broken by
the charge and everything became gummy. The many paintings in my studio
lost their surface shine, stripped of the polymers and resins that give
pigments their glow.
My neighbour down the road became ill with a disabling vertigo that took
months to get under medical control. Another neighbour and their four
children got coated with this stuff: gummy when wet, waxy when dry, and
impossible to fully remove. Green food colouring stained the “teflon’d”
areas, which we got down to that last unremovable coat with yogourt
scrubs. We hid the horror under a game of “green skinned people” for
the children’s sake. I used ice to cool my temple-area “hot spots”;
the kids used bags of frozen peas.
At the end of June, 1999, I was tracked while visiting away from my
home, by a man in a deep royal blue van. A circular radar-like antenna
rotated on the roof of the van.
I went into the woods and lay down in a wet, swampy hollow. I was soon
found. For four hours, some sort of scanner was used on the front of my
body, leaving red marks in splotchy patterns, and burns where the beam
was focused more strongly. I came out of the woods after the arrival of
a search party moved the tracker off. I gave a full report to the
police officer present and was taken to emergency in an ambulance.
At the mention of the word “laser”, I was shunted off to emergency-room
observation.. No physical examination was done. The next day, I was
seen for a first-time evaluation by the hospital psychiatrist, who after
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less than ten minutes, with still no physical examination, announced the
great advances made in modern medicine which enabled him to prescribe a
medication which would protect me from lasers and energies of all kinds.
(Risperdal – which I refused).
One can airily dismiss subjective
phenomena; one cannot so easily obfuscate motor vehicles, with or
without rotating antennas. The interpretation of the marks on my body
as “poison ivy” was proven wrong the next morning, when the blotches
were gone and only the burns remained. At my insistence, a physical
examination of my face was done and the points of pain left by the
piercing of the sinuses and palate were located and elicited an
uncontrolled pain response.
Since then, repeated electromagnetic pulsings have destroyed my jaw
tendons and ligaments, created pathways for bacterial penetration into
my sinuses resulting in two major infections needing antibiotic
treatment and created a cyst at the point of damage, chipped the
underside of a molar necessitating its extraction, and kept my body in a
state of high electromagnetic charge necessitating a constant alertness,
repeated electrical grounding and frequent ice packs to lower the
temperature of the crown and temple area hotspots. All these actions
increase and intensify when I succeed in getting the information out and
in alerting people to what is going on.
And I can tell you about all the research I’ve done looking for how and
why and what; looking for realities that explain my actualities; about
finding out that there are thousands of people all over the world who
are living similar realities.
How appalling and incredible, yet still real, the capabilities and easy
availabilities of lasers, laser scanners, infrared remote viewing by
The first weeks of my senior season of football were the toughest times I had ever had in my life. We had two practices a day. We had one practice early in the morning, and one late in the afternoon. Physically, I wasn't at a level like most of my teammates. I felt like I couldn't do anything on the high school level; plus I was being thrown around like a rag doll. I needed something that would ...
satellite, ultrasound fault detection equipment that can be used to
create shock waves and bubbles of air in tissues, electromagnetic
pulsers, remote generation of gamma radiation by lasers, remote
equipment that can increase electrical flow in house outlets and charge
up objects and people, extremely low frequency signals that bring
anesthesia at 700 Hertz and death at lower frequencies, and more, much
How appalling and incredible that these would be used against humanity
for any reason, yet how very real that there are always elements in a
society that do exactly that. That such activities require extensive
funding and wide collusion, even if achieved by infiltration, is
obvious. That modern technology permits these actions from anywhere on
the planet to anywhere on the planet is more than frightening.
Another young man committed suicide in August, 1999. Before he hung
himself, he told a friend that there was no-one who could help him
because there was no-one who would believe him, and he, himself,
couldn’t do anything.
Neither of these suicide victims knew about lasers, or the internet or
research sites and documented similar occurences elsewhere. Neither had
heard of “psychotronics”, or Psy-ops, or “non-lethal weapons”. They
didn’t know you can buy a “Black Widow” or a “Miranda” or a “Lifeguard”
on the open market and use them to turn another’s intestines to mush,
blind him, make him see things and hear things. That you can use a
construction industry ultrasound fault detection scanner to kill
another, or create shock waves to push him around. About the whining,
clicking and popping produced in the ears by infrasound and ultrasound.
About the devastating effects of increased electromagnetic charge in the
May the hell of not-knowing be replaced by factual reports and public
Then maybe the birds that hit the windows won’t be your friends, your
neighbours, your family, or your self.