Cisco Wheeler, whose grandfather’s brother was the Head of Joint Chiefs of Staff, has written about the use of cybernetically arranged meetings for purposes of mind control.
And I have also written about the enemy’s use of such techniques.
Long ago, the enemy moved my classmate from California to Austria, so we ran into each other, seemingly at random, as they failed in their attempts to hook us up.
She was the unwitting and innocent granddaughter of a cyberneticist who worked for the Nazis, the Pentagon, and the Central Intelligence Agency.
As the enemy sought to manipulate me through their use of Playboy, they placed her lookalike in the magazine, just as my girlfriend, who also had a centerfold lookalike, left California to return to England.
As you can read in my third book, the enemy has placed more than a dozen women in Playboy Magazine in their moronic and futile attempts to control me.
They refuse to acknowledge that their tactics did not work on me when I slept, and they work even less now that I am awake.
The ironically named intelligence agencies, who hire nothing but pervert moron slaves, are addicted to techniques through which they hurt only themselves.
Meanwhile, they make their enemies, like me, stronger and stronger.
The imbecilic fools have destroyed almost all of their staging grounds.
So they send people into one of the very few public areas I still enter.
It’s the sauna.
The move is so obvious, and has been for so long, that I even have a note in the outline to my fifth book, which I made four years ago, as follows:
Parade of women in the sauna….
Meanwhile, in my third book, I have described an extremely brief incident, when, twenty-five years ago, under the influence of cannabis, while asleep, I found myself thinking hideously out of character, for a period of less than one minute, in an absolutely meaningless way, with respect to the image of a lady who posed in Playboy.
At this moment, her image looks extremely repulsive to me, as the satanic enemy combines their consciousness with mine—directing my eyeballs to the ugly stiletto heels I never even noticed before.
The enemy attacks do not control me in the slightest, nor would they ever have done so, but the imbeciles pretend to be winning while they destroy the programming they put into me, temporarily making any of my normal attitudes impossible, putting disgusting pop-ups around my search for these pictures, and pretending to be me while the white trash tell hideous woman-hating lies.
Plus there’s the robotic aspect that makes this woman, and the lookalike they put into the sauna, who has exactly the same name, look pathetic at best.
Read the first appendix to any of my books, including the second volume of my magnum opus, not to mention any part of the epic, or of this website, and ask yourself why the enemy would think they could manipulate me.
Read the passage in Book Eight, of the first volume of my magnum opus, entitled, “The Girl Next Door,” about Patty Duffek, and ask yourself why the enemy would think I would be sexually attracted to anyone.
Read the passage at the end of Book Four, of the third volume of my magnum opus, entitled, “Under The Bridge,” about Christy Carrera, and ask yourself why the enemy would think they could use her image.
Does it then surprize you that last week the enemy managed to shut down the sauna at my branch of the YMCA, while they sent Christy Carrera’s lookalike into the alternative branch where I went to the sauna, or that this woman, who went out of her way to introduce herself to me, when I gave her no encouragement, and later to pose her body for several minutes in front of me, while she was visible only to me, from the narrow sightline of the sauna window, was also called Christy?
And, now, tonight, I find that the sauna at my usual gym is mysteriously broken, while they try to force me back, to the other sauna, into Christy’s company.
This is very like their arrangement of a test match at the local polo grounds to which they tried to lure me at the end of last summer while I refused to go because the whole thing, like any horsey event in my neighborhood, would have simply provided them with a chance to be obnoxious about two different women I do not want to see.
Meanwhile, they rape my anus, prostate gland, and genitals with directed energy weapons, making my privates alternately limp, semi-erect, and erect, while female degenerates suggest that I take Viagra.
They use microwave harassment to say dirty words, and tell lies, attacking me nonstop, while they think they can drive me to this woman.
That will never happen, but, especially as they make me experience foul tastes and smells, through cybernetics, using methods that obviously worked on their highest leaders, they have once again made me stronger—all while they destroy each other.
Not only did I get to write my four-hundred-and-seventy-fifth article, while the foul tastes and smells force me to diet, but I was able to use two of the new exercise machines in my own gym, to do extra work on my abdominals, instead of sweating in the sauna.
The enemy is just that stupid.
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3 thoughts on “SAUNA INTERRUPTED”
I’m feeling bitter with a life that gives me no way out.
Not me. I feel joyful as I destroy the enemy and do important things. Why don’t you start up your own website? It will give you a way to fight the enemy, educate and inspire other good people, and to tell the story of your life and your family. All of this will make you feel better.
Because I have no time yet lol, but I have to agree wih you, there are many beautiful things in life. After the bitterness of awakening I was shown how narrow my universe was!
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