The books I have written do not only tell the story of my life, so they entertain the reader through the Great American Novel.
The books I have written do not only tell the story of our world, so they inform the reader through a great work of history.
And the books I have written do not only have more than sixty thousand downloads, after fewer than three years, so you can take as many copies as you like, without registration, for free.
And I hope you share them with others.
The MK-Ultra Series celebrates so many amazing places, plants, animals, and people—along with the stars, the sky, the sea, and the earth—to record their stories, so we all may grow in reknown.
As an epic poet, I sing of the beauty, trials, and achievements of the amazing women who posed for Playboy.
While I expose sexual programming, I make no apologies for healthy relations between consenting adults.
My books have a visual component, through which I will sometimes describe the geometrical composition, the color palette, and the wholesome effect of an iconic, erotic, and historic photograph, showing a beautiful naked woman, embodied in Playboy.
And, so, as a proper incentive to read my books, and to explain this literary device, which might else lie hidden, I wish to share an artistic example, combined with a psychological insight, of another amazing woman whom the global intelligence community sought to use against me.
Can you believe that I forgot seeing naked pictures of the woman you might just begin to meet below, and more in my books, whose strong body I wanted, while, at the same time, I felt, for a split second, a completely foreign impulse?
What could account for such uncharacteristic behavior, thoughts, or speech, accompanied by significant memory lapse, in a healthy winner?
Mind control.
That’s what I expose in my books, where you can read of my achievements.
With this background, I hope you enjoy a literary description of a perfectly paletted, geometrically composed, and sexily modelled photograph that worked to embody, for me, a primeval titan, who scorned the attentions of the weakling sophisticates who pass for gods, while she mated only with her worthy counterparts through the manly rapture of giants and heros.
The blonde amazon posed, snarly, sensuous, and inquisitive, tall tropical grass, broad and green, surrounding her body, strong and upright, with her short-sleeved blouse hiked up,
flimsy fabric that could barely do its job, to contain her giant gazongas, riding in wrinkled sideways lines, sky blue, to suggest her eyes, while it threw, into relief, her heliacal halo,
So, amazingly, my gaze did not go right away to the enormous nipples, flat and pink, crowning her jugs, creamy white, their size accented by tanlines that blew Patty Duffek away, the left a full inch lower than the right,
as her soft heavy breasts seemed gently to dance, lively with graceful motion, above her flat muscular belly, tanned and toned—from hours in the gym and the pool—
forearms draped, languid, on thighs—round, womanly, and powerful like her magnificent hips—
hands almost folded, white and pink manicured nails, echoing the rosy colors of her bare proud chest,
to form a second vee-shape, below the vee above, wrists partly hiding, partly framing, sienna wool, belted above, by another tanline,
So I could see that, on the lake, a spandex suit had stopped her bush, earthy umber, from bursting chthonically forth, only by an inch, above the bikini bottom of the goddess.
Gilgamesh refused Inanna, which enraged the goddess, but I am proud to take part in the sacred marriage between heaven and earth, embodied in the thunderstorm that gives birth to spring in the All-American Sub-Tropics.
Behold the teacher, secretary, and woman, from a fun and wholesome family, who, when she was not skiing on the lake, had the guts to get naked for a real photographer.
You can meet her in my books.
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Fighting Monarch 
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