can anybody help?

i apologize for the somewhat 'garbled' nature of the following
document as i have composed it piecemeal at the local library....

greetings fellow Americans,

first of all let me assure you that i am of sound mind and usually
don't suspect anything and certainly NEVER hear or see anything that
doesn't exist.
if you believe that individuals rights should be respected as I do,
then you should be outraged to hear about what I for years now have
been suffering. the sick part of this whole violation is that this
harassment has , over the years, nearly driven me insane and caused me
to say and do allot of the anti-social things that have since and
repeatedly been used against me. If I told you how many years it has
been going on you would find it incredible, but no more incredible
than the fact that it is going on at all.

I hope to by this missive demonstrate that although the conclusions I
have arrived at may seem outrageous, they are steeped in sound
reasoning and based on concrete observations. I hope not to come
across overly paranoid, however, as I've long ago accepted them as
true and live with them as stoically as I can.

Since I have been ostracized by the entire community here in the San
Francisco and Bay Area to the point that people even betray the ethics
of their own professions where I am involved, I have been forced to
seek help outside this area and that is why I am contacting you.

Although the explanation I have arrived at may seem incredible, it is
the only one that perfectly explains what would otherwise be a series
of singularly bazaar events and unlikely coincidences that have been
shaping my life for years.

Considering that this document is too long to be quickly read I will
state upfront just a few of the strange behaviors, where it concerns
me, exhibited by the other members of this community.

I haven't drunk alcohol in three years, and recently decided to attend
some AA meetings here. When I would do so there was a palpable
hostility in the air, a lot of whispering back and forth among the
other attendees, and some comments made to me concerning facts they
felt they knew about me, this despite the fact that I had never so
much as seen anyone present at those meetings that I've ever so much
as met before in my life. I am not self overly self centered, so I
know I am rational enough to know when tension is real and the result
of my presence.

Also, a few months ago I tried joining a local church, and when I
called the phone number twice for the people holding the new members'
orientation meeting, it was rudely made plain to me that I was not
welcomed to join.

Also, whenever I place ads online at the library computers to either
sell collectibles or in efforts to meet people, oddly, I will get
either absolutely No responses or responses from obviously spiteful
people involving personal insults. I have received taunting email
communications from as far away as New York and Amsterdam. Also I am
an artist and at places where I have posted my work I used to have
quite a large following, however, inexplicably, no one even comes to
even visit my accounts anymore.

My only crime is having a temper, and presently, due to this
unconstitutional harassment, alone. I have had, and continue to a
certain degree to have, an unfortunate tendency to say the worst
possible things when I get angry. Although I feel its strange, I have
not been able to find a therapist willing to work with me to help me
with my temper as it seems as soon as they here the sound of my voice
they're suddenly to busy to book any appointments with me. Other than
the things I say my actions are all benign, evidenced by the fact that
I have never been involved with any radical political groups, nor do I
criminal record.

So, not only has it proven impossible to get legal representation
locally- I don't feel I would be granted a fair settlement from among
jurors selected from this area.

However, once the evidence is obtained, which may prove difficult if
we are to rely upon the honesty of the individuals involved, it should
be a simple matter to obtain a conviction based on the fact these
broadcasts not only identify me visually, but also by name. I base
this conclusion on the fact that work I have submitted to publishers
under pseudonyms that they were initially very impressed with and
eager to publish would suddenly say they were no longer interested
once I signed the releases. Naturally, since they were legal documents
I would sign using my real name.

Also, once the evidence is obtained, keep in mind the culprit, Dana
Brownfield, along with, its not such a stretch to suppose, some
cooperation from her employers at the Irvine Foundation in San
Francisco, are worth a considerable sum, and this ongoing slander has
literally destroyed my life along with any possibility of a happy
future for me.

Also, later in this document, I will relate a singularly strange event
that happened to me in San Francisco where a hostile mob began to form
around me at a time, late at night, when it was usually almost empty,
and the curious fact that, when as a result of this I was rendered
homeless, it seemed impossible for me to be arrested despite many of
the questionable things I was forced to do to keep body and soul
together.

Also, I assure you, I am not prone to hallucinations, auditory or
otherwise, nor am I by nature paranoid or delusional, preferring to
live a quiet, safe life.

Although I have described these strange events as 'inexplicable',
there is on explanation that explains all of them neatly. I first
became aware of it when I was moved into subsidized housing and could
plainly hear what other tenants were watching on T.V. It was a
derogatory show about me. I know it was a television show based on the
fact I know the culprit here has a degree in multi-media
communications and heads the communications department at the Irvine
Foundation, which is right down the street from a Community Access
Television station, channel 29 here in the bay area, and there are
also these types of stations in Berkeley as well as Oakland near where
she lives. I also knew it was a broadcast show based on the fact it
would come on on the hour, most often 5 or 7 p.m. Sunday nights,
although frequently at other times of the week, but always on the hour
or half hour.

I have since issued cease and desist orders to both Dana (the culprit)
and the television station near her place of employment, so I believe
I may have finally put a stop to this, however I do not know how, or
if indeed, I can, issue subpoenas towards discovery of evidence to
either her or the station that has been broadcasting this slander.
A common quip I have come to get used to when expressing these
impressions is, "who would bother setting you up like that? You're
simply not important enough." overlooking the obvious insult made by
such a statement I feel it is one that both asks and answers its own
question. It is only because I am not important enough, because I have
no influential (or, indeed, any other kind) of friends that anyone
would bother doing this too me, because I have moved so faraway from
family members and my childhood friends and am alone. Cross anyone
with any influence, no matter how slightly and you better pray you're
not as vulnerable as I now find myself.
this base betrayal and treachery, that ignores even professional
ethics, pretense of morality, and even the law itself, has been,
perpetrated, for at the very least 6 years according to my
observations, by one Dana Brownfield , who, I just recently learned,
has a degree in multi-media communications. Also, when I discovered
this fact I also found out exactly what her job title at the Irvine
Foundation, where she works at, in San Francisco, is. She is in charge
of the Communications department of that organization, and works up
the street away from the studios of Community Access Television,
channel 29. I only just recently discovered these facts. Up till then
I had only known she was learning web design. However, before this
revelation I did know her work involved the media to a certain degree,
due to the fact she had mentioned her position as one that should be
respected as threatening to any individual or company that may earn
her disfavor upon more than a few occasions. Until now I had no idea
how damaging her education, connections and occupation were capable of
being. Also, during my residency with her I heard her make more than a
few speeches to me concerning 'vigilante justice' and the virtue of
citizens taking the law and vengeance into there own hands. All very
ominous given all that has happened to me, especially within the last
year.

I have known this unremarkable creature for over 20 years, which
overlaps perfectly with how long I perceived this wicked violation to
have been going on. the only reason I have managed to stay in touch
with her all this time was, aside from the fact she made it easy to do
so, was that she comes off as a profoundly indifferent individual,
bereft of personal passions of any kind, therefore we had never had
any major falling outs due to my own impulsive and emotional nature.
She presents herself as amicable, mechanically laughing at any silly
joke as may occur to you to make, and even helpful in small ways where
one may require assistance. as for any major help she may claim to
have given me, I hope not to come across as ungrateful, but I don't
feel I owe here a single, solitary, blessed thing for it as it is my
conviction these gratuities were extended for the sole purpose of
gathering more material for the spurious broadcast she has been
working on concerning me, in fact she had been urging me to move into
her basement for 5 years, an invitation which I was reluctant to
accept given that we were 'dear' friends for so long I didn't feel it
may be wise to strain the 'relationship' thus, but eventually I did in
April of '03 after a series of unsettling events I have no doubt she
was responsible for. so I stayed there entirely alone for the most
part, although she always seemed to know what had gone on in her
absence, mysteriously, for three years, where after she booted me out
without notice with no where to go, despite the fact I had been paying
her $400 per month rent, which she insisted on being paid in cash, and
doing house and garden work for the privilege of living in her
basement with no bathroom, and the only reliable source of heat being
the toaster oven, once she felt she had all she needed for this
slanderous show. Actually, if I can get copies of them, there should
be some checks I wrote her initially for rent at the bank I used to
use.

My residency there was abruptly terminated in July of '06 when I was
unceremoniously booted out without notice.
I could have called the police to stop that unlawful eviction, having
plenty of mail going back years to prove my residency, but she told me
she had been putting aside money for me from my rent as she knew how
badly I managed mine, and assured me that if I came back the following
Monday we could arrange a transfer of it to my account. However when I
stopped by that Monday she admitted she had lied and that I was not to
expect the money or any other type of help from her ever again. I only
fell for this because, as I have said, up till this point she
presented herself as a friend. I was slow to realize her true nature,
being the trusting fool that I am. In fact, after her and this friend
of hers "Robert" had burst into my room and began boxing things up
informing me I was to move on, she told me she had paid 6 months in
advance for storage of my belongings, which also proved to be false.
Most of my things are, as far as I know, still in her cellar to this
day, and no one I have asked will help me go pick up the rest, even
though they are open to assisting me in other ways that may require
more trouble and bother. Possibly she is hoping to prevent me from
pursuing legal action against her for this by holding all my
belongings hostage.

Odd, I think. now, from a particular episode of this program I
managed to hear late one night when the machinery was
uncharacteristically quiet stated that she kicked me out because I
refused to do any of the chores I was supposed to, but this is false
as I did them diligently until I started hearing her discussing her
plans to kick me out from downstairs. when I would ask her about this
she would brazenly lie that it wasn't so, and although I wanted to
believe her I heard what I heard so I didn't see much point in slaving
away for her if she was covertly planning on rendering me homeless.
Besides, I had strongly suspected for some time that there was
surveillance in the room I was staying in, that my computer activity
was being monitored, and someone had more than once gone through my
belongings.
Exactly what she did to my laptop to exert such control over it I
would be very curious to find out. granted, she already knew the
password to all my accounts (a fact that I didn't remember till months
after our final parting), and had easy access to it when I wasn't
home, so whatever she did she had ample opportunity, but, not knowing
the esoterics of computer technology I can't imagine exactly what she
did. there was one time when that inebriated orangutan she said she
was dating, but I suspect was some kind of high tech P.I., was reading
out loud an email upstairs while I was composing it downstairs. Also,
files would mysteriously vanish from my computer...as I was working on
them. in fact once I was working on a digital picture, having just cut
and pasted an element after careful selection, I took a brief break.
When I returned I found several, three or four, pastes of the selected
element scattered about the picture when I firmly recall pasting it
only once. This kind of thing happened frequently, sometimes when she
wasn't even home working on her computer. Perhaps my computer had been
made subservient to hers, and possibly Laura's, the tenant it the
front house. At any rate she was also obviously stealing files from me
to use on her damned show. How much she enhanced, altered or edited
them I can only imagine. in fact I am sure a similar thing is
happening with the computer I now have as it does the strangest things
at the most inopportune times, as if with intention, although not as
skillfully as they had been being done at Dana's, owing, no doubt, the
fact it is being done now by one of the other tenants of this complex
who isn't quite as computer literate.
also I am sure there are cameras placed in the room I am now staying
in. I base this supposition on snippets such as I have managed to
overhear of this show, and also on the reactions heard by the other
tenants of this building to things I was doing in here while
absolutely alone, as well as passing comments by other people I have
come in contact with, and on the fact that no one ever comes into my
room, or even to my door no matter how angry and worked up against me
they may get after watching these broadcasts, despite the fact I have
been invited into their spaces if I run into them in the halls after
it has aired. Until I realized this people here were making an obvious
show of going through my trash hoping to find damning evidence against
me, but since I have publicized my awareness of the surveillance they
seem to have given up on this ruse. I now cover all my screens, and
have obscured the view of the room in which my bed would be visible
from the smoke alarm (where I personally would place a camera) with a
hat, and often times even cover my digital alarm clock, hoping to
salvage SOME kind of privacy. Naturally this places a great deal of
stress on me being robbed of the privacy most citizens take for
granted.
Over the years of my association with Dana, she has made several, to
me at the time, cryptic comments that, given what is happening
presently, now reveal themselves to me as references to this
espionage. one I can easily recall, from when her and this Robert were
visiting me in Santa Clarita, and I was talking about the days when my
star was rising towards being a famous artist and I mentioned how
creepy it made me feel, being a miner celebrity and having people I
never met feel as though they knew me. She then looked at this Robert
and slyly repeated, "Celebrity" in a, what was doubtlessly to him,
meaningful way. I find it personally interesting that this Miss Dana
Brownfield, although in step with all the other 'bleeding hearts' in
this part of the country, professes to be pro-people, yet aside from
writing checks to various crack-pot 'save the rain forest'
organizations does no charity work involving a commitment of time and
a willingness to get a little dirty for a good cause, despite the fact
she will be the first to tell you she's grossly overpaid for what
little work she does at he Irvine Foundation. she obviously has the
luxury of volumes of time to kill at her leisure, evidenced by how
much effort she's lavished on her pet project, which seems to be
trying to literally drive me to the outskirts of raging insanity past
the point of no return, have me murdered by some mindless T.V. zombie,
or have me do it myself during one of those black days of hopeless
despair when this negative publicity presses down on me tangibly
crushing the very life out of my soul. it only just now occurs to me,
with even more force than usual, what an over the top hypocrite Dana
in fact is. that she can even pose as being any kind of humanitarian,
and at the same time broadcast things that, although in my raging
thanatos, I may have meant for her to hear as punishment for snooping,
but never would have said to anyone else who may have had reason to
authentically take offense. despite the fact she is one of those
patronizing phony liberals who will go on at great length about the
few token persons of color she has supposedly befriended, invariably
someone from work, to anyone who will listen under any pretense,
clearly she doesn't care whose else's feelings get hurt as long as it
involves my getting hurt. As it stands now, even if I were out of the
way entirely there will remain allot of wounded or angry people who
never needed to have suffered this if not for her seething hubris.
Another random example of the betrayal of professional ethics just
occurs to my memory and will serve as an excellent example of what I
am talking about. my psychiatrist, doctor David tower, who practices
in Berkeley, a couple of months ago showed me where in his office he
conceals a handgun which he claims to have confiscated from a suicidal
patient and has enthusiastically assured me is loaded. This naturally
struck me as inappropriate given my emotional issues coupled with the
fact I frequently find myself alone in that office. This fact alone
should make my suspicions that he has taped our sessions and made them
available for the broadcast not seem as paranoid as they otherwise
would. I initially suspected this based on the fact that much of what
I have heard of this broadcast is composed of long dialogs spoken by
me, and assuming they are recent, for I find it difficult to make out
allot of the words due to noises made by some kind of machinery
adjacent to my unit, I cannot think of where else I would have had
occasion to speak uninterrupted for so long a period of time.
More on this psychiatrist, I am not even sure he is legally entitled
to be referred to as a 'therapist', despite the name of the clinic he
and his wife (Dr. Sylvia tower, a spiteful husk of a woman) run being
called " Berkeley psychotherapy" as on his card his name is printed
simply as "Dr. David tower M.D.". I don't know if in common
nomenclature being a medical doctor is deemed such an achievement that
it makes mention of any other qualifications superfluous, but at any
event no others are indicated on the official card. indeed, during the
past three plus years I have been seeing him my diagnosis has been
altered a small number of times, based on various observations and
revelations having been made incidentally, I point out, as anything
approaching psychotherapy has yet to be touched upon. Most of our
visits are wasted by his goading me to bewail all my miseries and
hardships resultant from this broadcast, which he insists is a
delusion on my behalf, despite the three anti psychotics he has
prescribed for me at various times proving ineffective towards
dispelling my conviction as to their existence. His enjoyment and
entertainment at hearing these tales of woe strike me as singularly
unprofessional, as if he actually looks forward to hearing them and
they are the highlight of his week.
also, throughout our professional relationship he has issued several
thinly veiled threats and made ominous portents concerning tragedies
that had actually occurred to me later on, all the while arguing with
me that bad things I felt were in the works for me were all due to my
apprehensive imagination, despite the fact every single one of them
has come to pass. So if I am crazy, one would have to at least admit I
seem to have the gift of prophecy.
Because it only happened recently, I will once again alter the flow of
this document to mention it. a few months ago I was personally driven
to a social services agency by Theresa Razzono, the head of the
vocational rehab program I have been involved with for the past few
years. this in itself was unusual as she seems to me, for the most
part, to ignore my calls entirely and the program itself has till very
recently been no help in assisting me to find employment, indeed it
certainly did nothing to help me get or retain the job I previously
had. Upon arriving at the location and filling out the preliminary
paperwork, she acted surprised that it required me to take a drug
test, and to be available for random testing throughout my involvement
with this new program. I said "acted surprised" as it was a very poor
performance. I feel that my taking this drug test was the main reason
this appointment was made. I was actually pleased at this, hoping that
if one of the major myths created by this broadcast, being that I am a
hopeless and insatiable drug addict were thus dispelled, it may cause
people to at least question all the other allegations associated with
it. Again, it occurs to me I am placing entirely too much faith in
human intelligence. in my imagination I can hear the collective howl
as of a wounded animal rising up from viewers around the world upon
learning that I passed it, angrily voicing suspicions of some kind of
trickery on my behalf towards having done so. This will, undoubtedly,
be the actual sequence of events as only a fool would believe the
testimony of a drug addict, dealer or whore, as it is easily available
at bargain basement prices.

Incidentally, I did pass that drug test.
There was this other guy, Ed Rynberg who, at that time at least, lived
with his girlfriend in Alameda, but his introductory racist comments
struck me as so over the top as to be repulsive, they usually
concerned African-Americans, that I would simply ignore them or change
the subject. it was he who, through tales of how his sister was
systematically robbing him of what his father had bequeathed him in
his will, that prompted me to encourage my grandfather to settle such
matters now. he then gave me the car and some money, and it was not
long after that that Anne began the drug stuff, and the city of
Oakland has already stolen my car and crushed it into a cube. And I
can't leave out John cherry who lately seemed to be trying to draw me
out in topics of conversation concerning sex with miners. naturally I
had no such similar information to share, but once when he was
relating a story about how he had once picked up a 16 year old
prostitute had added, "and if anyone is recording this, the statute of
limitations has long since expired", which, although it was seemingly
added as a joke, struck me as weird.
Another person of this kind who foisted herself on me gave her name as
Lisa Brennan. This particular one I know for a fact was employed by
Dana based on a specific incident I will give later.
She was an anomaly. She presented herself to me as an artist,
although, aside from a few silk screens directly lifted from
photographs she herself didn't take, she never showed me any of her
work. The things she would say and the topics of conversation she
would try to initiate also aroused my suspicions immediately. One of
the first things she said to me, and repeated several times throughout
our acquaintance was that she was fascinated by Nazi Germany. An odd
introductory statement to tell a new associate, especially considering
we are immediately adjacent to a university town, predominantly
Jewish, and how would she know that I myself wasn't Jewish? Apparently
someone had beforehand given her a preliminary sketch of what they
felt would inflame my enthusiasm. it is true that in the past I
couldn't help but be impressed by totalitarian regimes, the colorful
decorum of the staged festivals, the mighty spectacles of great masses
of armed men marching in unison like machines, the display of military
might and the passionate, threatening speeches, it can be quite
intoxicating, as it is obviously meant to be. However, once I learned
that all the modern fascist states modeled their pageantry according
to the pattern set down by the Roman Empire, which lasted for around
2,000 years, as compared to Hitler's state, which survived only 12,
naturally my focus changed. She would habitually brush aside with
disinterest any reference I made towards the greater empire with
disdain, yet continue to try and draw me out about Germany's brief
hiccup of glory and megalomania. My feelings are that if the Germans
are esteemed for their work ethic and unquestioning obedience to
authority it was drilled into them centuries ago when they were the
favored slaves of the Romans. the praetorian guard, the emperor's
personal body guard, was, especially in Rome's later days, comprised
entirely of Germans, valued for their fanatical devotion and loyalty.
Traits made all the more appreciated when one realizes how corrupt the
empire was.
I had long suspected she worked for Dana, and this was confirmed once
when I stopped by Dana's to go through my things hoping to find some
belongings I felt I needed. Dana wanted to show me out, but I was
focused on locating the needed objects. I then heard a muffled phone
conversation Dana was having with someone upstairs on the phone, then
shortly after Lisa called me on my cell phone indicating some matter
that required my immediate assistance. I said now was a bad time, but
she drove over to me anyway, and failing to extricate me bummed a
cigarette from me although she had quit smoking a number of years ago.
I don't believe she needed any help from me and I remember the matter
she related to me was nothing of any major or immediate importance, so
to me this finally proved the connection between her and Dana.
Besides, I have since found other such connections between Dana and
other people who have imposed themselves upon me since the final
stages of this drama have unfolded. Also, although Bruce and Dana
supposedly never met, I always found it curious that whenever I voiced
my suspicions about Dana he would always come to her aid and defend
her character.


I have had a keen suspicion something strange was going on for quite a
number of years. In fact, aside from chronic depression it is the main
reason I have sought psychiatric counseling, and was diagnosed with a
social anxiety disorder because the things I was noticing were
interpreted as symptomatic of paranoia, and medicated accordingly. It
seemed everybody knew. or thought they knew, all about my business,
and people who I had never met before would look at me with curiosity
or revulsion without appropriate provocation. I felt people were
following me around on the Internet, that there may have been some
website concerning me, or that I was at least the subject of very
lively gossip. Seemed everybody was unnaturally fascinated with
everything about me. I felt I knew then, for some time, Dana had the
house bugged. I came to this eerie conclusion due to my unfortunately
excessive habit of talking to myself for extended periods of time when
alone. I found my exact same sentences and turns of phrase while doing
so repeated to me by others, and Dana in particular, in responses
concerning entirely different topics. Mind you, I knew for a fact I
was entirely alone when I was having my unique dialogs with myself.
Oftentimes this would get me so angry I would intentionally say the
most offensive things I could think of upon next having the house to
myself, simply to irritate her, never suspecting they were being
gathered for broadcast. I suspected, at some point, but never knew for
sure that I was an uninformed star till I was moved out of my car into
government subsidized housing and for the first time was in listening
distance to the television viewing habits of a building full of
people. Never watching television myself I would in all likelihood be
ignorant, despite my intuition, of this libelous transmission to this
very day.


it is obvious to me now why, in the final couple of months of my
residing with her Dana was insistent that I be tested for
schizophrenia, despite the fact I told her it was impossible to turn
schizophrenic at my age as, if one doesn't manifest symptoms of the
disorder by their early 30s one never will, according to all the
literature on the disease I had read. she was trying, although
ineffectively so, to get me to question my own perceptions of reality,
arouse suspicions in others concerning those perceptions by raising
substantial questions regarding my sanity or, possibly, achieving her
highest hope by having me officially diagnosed as schizophrenic, this
giving her license to continue persecuting me unmolested till I would
have been blotted out of existence.
she may have gotten the idea for this from that tubby friend of her's
Robert, who would comment on the psychotic characteristics of much of
my artwork, a characteristic, incidentally, that I intentionally
cultivated.
I realize I am revealing entirely too much about myself in this
document, but, since I have no privacy or secrets, at least none that
have not been twisted or tinged with malice in their representation, I
feel its all I can do to demonstrate to the world all the effort,
time, and money that has been poured into casting me as this horrible
monster that people apparently feel is beyond help and better off
being destroyed or exiled.
I have read somewhere, concerning quantum physics, I believe, that the
subatomic particles seem to change from their known patterns of
behavior when they are actually being observed. I would imagine it may
have something to do with the methods used to observe them, however, I
think we can all agree that this is undeniably the case where sentient
beings are concerned. Naturally one may be pleased or angry upon
realizing one is being watched, depending on whose doing it and why.
Personally, I was furious when I realized I was being closely watched,
so my temper, along with the fact it's so much fun playing the 'bad
guy' (villains being so much more interesting than noble characters)
that I can see now how ridiculously simple I made Dana's job of
editing this show to present me unfavorably. indeed, when she is in a
particularly hostile frame of mind concerning me and has made the tone
of her show more vicious than usual, and the other tenants in the
building gleefully turn the volume on their idiot boxes a little
higher than usual for my benefit, I don't think it should take much
imagination to sympathize with what an agitating effect this has upon
me. I can't help but question reality itself. I wonder, am I really a
human being living on planet Earth, or have I died at some point and
gone to Hell? Is the "Bill of Rights" just a lie? Have I EVER had true
freedom or privacy, or has my entire life been one big sick
experiment? What's so special about me to have been singled out for
this unwelcome attention? I thought "the games" had died with Rome- am
I just a puppet on a string being tortured to satisfy the blood lust
of a deranged world? This anxiety, hostility and depression I've been
feeling almost my ENTIRE life...it's NOT due to a mere chemical
imbalance... I HAVE been being spied upon the entire time! This is an
UNBELIEVABLE NIGHTMARE! And EVERYONE has been lying to me about it!!!
I have had an uncanny feeling, as I've already said, for years, that
many of the people in my life were 'assigned' to be there. the fact
that, it seems, almost all of them were available and willing to give
their skewed accounts of me for this epic would, it seems to me,
support this suspicion.
Apparently, even when I was living out of my car my fame was so
widespread that it seemed I couldn't even get arrested in this town,
although I got plenty of tickets. there were several instances where
incarceration would seem to have been the inevitable result, but which
never happened, although due to the popularity of the show, or
concerns about responsibility as to what would have happened to me had
I been locked up with the other inmates (a very realistic apprehension
based on an event that happened to me in San Francisco some months
later, which I will eventually relate) I can't say for certain. A few
examples come to mind dealing with this, the first being when I found
myself surrounded by officers while sitting in my car on Shattuck,
near Alcatraz, if memory serves. I was quickly removed from my
vehicle, handcuffed and closely interrogated and physically examined
by the police for possible drug use. Although they were satisfied I
was not flying high on anything, they then proceeded to search my car,
where they found, among all the other debris of my life, some
discarded syringes. Admittedly, I had taken to the habit of
occasionally injecting myself with heroin, when it was available to
me, to assist me in bravely facing my demeaning new circumstances.
Since I was squeamish about stabbing myself in the soft tissue of the
crook of my arm like junkies traditionally do, I simply would stick
the needles in my forearm, which are just as vascular, and now have
unfortunate scars there owing to the caustic nature of some of the
drugs used. I may eventually hide or at least obscure them with some
tattoo work if I can get my gun working.
Upon discovery of the needles the officer than informed me he would
overlook it, because he realized that sometimes 'life went sideways',
to use his words.
a week or so later, this same enforcer of the king's peace, after
following me along telegraph avenue, driving to a parking lot I had
taken to spending the night in as I drank soda water from a cup from a
cafe I would hang out at, working on my pictures using my laptop,
until the screen inexplicably broke later on, flashed his lights and
pulled me over. once he verified that I was speaking sooth about the
contents of the cup being nothing stronger than soda water he told me
that if I hadn't had my headlights fixed the next time he stopped me I
could count on getting (yet another) ticket. my regular headlights
didn't work so I had to rely on my high beams. Several officers have
commented on this before to me when I had been pulled over, but this
time was the first one where I was threatened with being written up
because of it. Needless to say I avoided that side of town after dark
as I could not afford to have them repaired.
Another incident involved shoplifting. I had devised a ploy to
supplement my meager and sporadic intake of food by going into the
grocery store and acting as if I were shopping, where I'd take a
couple of donuts out of the case and snack on them as I shopped, and
leave the store with the groceries left behind when I had finished. I
had only just shared my habit of doing this with the psychiatrist guy
only a few days before, and, sure enough, this time upon leaving the
store, it was the Safeway at the end of college where it branches off
into Broadway, I was accosted by two plain clothes security guards. I
was then handcuffed and taken to the employee break room where I felt
exhibited as I was forced to stand there like some sort of zoological
oddity as the guards questioned me, interrogated me, filled out their
forms and even threatened me. It was such an alarming spectacle that
even the other store employees complained vocally about having to be
subjected to it. At any rate I was then released and told not to come
back to that particular store and to expect something in the mail
concerning what needed to be done about this. Nothing ever came.
Another incident, nowhere near as serious however, happened to me
while I was driving along the narrow street of College Avenue, at that
time made narrower than usual owing to cars leaving the parking lot
trying to merge with the traffic. I had accidentally clipped a brand
new Lexus. I pulled over so we could exchange insurance information,
as even super villains like me aren't crazy enough to drive uninsured.
Not having heard from her for a week and a half after that I managed
to get in touch with her and she said that there was no problem as
they had simply buffed the scratch on her car out. I saw that
'scratch', it was more like a gouge, and there's no way it came out
that easily. People always comment on these things saying, 'lucky for
you, eh?'. However I don't see it as luck, certainly not good luck as
it indicates a very ominous picture to me of some much larger
catastrophe brewing for me on the horizon. Clearly, something big is
in the works. meanwhile I am trapped in this miserable hole with my
hands cut off unable to do a damned thing about it, as, thanks to this
filthy nonsense everybody is being fed I can't get a job and even my
offers of volunteer work are ignored. In fact, I can't even join a
church because of this. A few months ago I was attending Saint John's
Presbyterian Church on College avenue here in Berkeley. I had made the
mistake of mentioning this to a couple people the day before I
actually showed up, and when I arrived there on Sunday morning it
looked rather empty. in fact a couple of ushers commented on this fact
within earshot of me, intentionally for my benefit, I am convinced.
Aside from some of the odd things some of the congregation members
said to me I was determined not to get disheartened about any of these
things, I wanted to join and do my bit to help out and meet some
people. I attended a few more services, then it was announced that
there was to be a new member orientation meeting at Martha and Howard
Perdue's place on Peralta later that day. I looked forward to going. I
was running a little late that day so I called their number from the
church program. Phone rang a couple times, then the answering machine
switched on, and I left message. a little later I called again. Same
ring, same answering machine, and then someone picked up. I recognized
the voice of Howard as I had met him at the church. Anyway, I
mechanically asked if I could speak with either Martha or Howard, and
the guy shouts, "NO!", and hung up on me. I have frequently thought of
going back to that church and when they open the services by taking
prayer requests voicing one for that congregation, warning them that
if that GOD they claim to worship is real, they had better hope to
strive to be better ambassadors for Christ or they are going to be in
for, quite literally, one 'hell' of an afterlife.
but I wont do it as I know it would only be counterproductive.
the stress I am constantly being subjected too, of being alternately
closely observed and at the same time generally ostracized, is almost
more than I can stand usually. here are a couple examples of both
these methods of torture that are being employed against me in this
supposed citadel of free thinking;
whenever I would use the Internet at this dive I am forced to stay in
I noticed that after I had logged off my email accounts, that if I
opened the history menu and went back to the various web addresses
indicated there, my accounts would be seen as open and anyone on the
computer had access to them. this would be the case no matter how many
times I went back and closed them. the only way I found it possible to
make my accounts inaccessible was to restart the computer. although
they discourage turning the computers off, we all know restarting them
is different than turning them off, which is what is routinely done at
the public library for the same reason I have indicated, all the other
people who seem to file in and fill up the Internet room while I'm on
line get real upset when I do so. its obviously because they wanted to
go through my accounts gathering information for this broadcast due to
the financial motivation provided by ms. Brownfield I have no doubt.
this is clearly an example of her twisted sense of charity as I
strongly suspect she, or one of her tech support, has been going
through my accounts already, based on the fact that, just now, I was
looking for a few specific emails from people where they have issued
threats to me which confirm the ongoing plot to destroy me, and could
not find them, despite the fact I could find the emails that directly
preceded them and those which followed them. I knew Dana was doing
this when I was staying with her, deleting such emails such as made
references to rent and other financial matters involving her monetary
enrichment through me, but as I said before, at that time she had
control over my computer and the password to all my accounts. how she
is doing so now I can only speculate. perhaps someone has seen me type
in my password, but I think it is something more than that as it seems
every time I place any kind of ad anywhere I invariably get absolutely
NO responses, or taunting ones from knowing cranks. the fact that
nobody, save one or two suspect individuals, visit the accounts where
I post my work, although I used to have quite a fan base and before
had more traffic than I could maintain correspondence with, I
attributed to the fact that people were already seeing my work
showcased on television so why bother viewing it on line?
on the other end of the spectrum is the time I was hospitalized for 13
days due to the shingles. everybody should know that, although it is a
remanifestation of the chicken pox virus it is NOT communicable, a
fact easily enough to confirm with any standard medical reference
book, yet despite this the supposedly educated medical staff at
Herrick hospital, where I was sent because I indicated that the pain
was so intense I had fleeting thoughts of plunging a steak knife into
my chest, had me quarantined from the rest of the patients for almost
the entire duration of my stay there, the official reason being I was
isolated because of biologic contagion, although it is obvious to me
now their concerns involved the possibility that in a ward full of
psyche patients there was a better than average chance that one of
them may have revealed to me the source of my fame, so clearly they
would have used any half-assed excuse they could concoct to have me
separated from the rest of them.
one of the particular emails I was searching for that revealed to me
emails had indeed been deleted, and not by me as I only delete those
such are obviously spam, was one from a person I know, one of those
individuals who had initially rather assertively sought out my
acquaintance, Brian Prosser, who presently resides in one of the
suburbs of Seattle, WA, in which he states something to the effect
that 'I have gotten myself into this mess, and there will be nobody to
bail me out this time'. Considering that last time I was almost
killed, I take this as a death threat. he says this to me despite the
fact he claims to know nothing concerning my present state of
persecution, although I have known for quite some time his wife has
been eagerly gathering material for this show under the pretext of her
being an aspiring author and taking an interest in my writing and
indicating romantic interests in me, which I ultimately quelled
stating that since she was married we should never consummate her
stated desires.

The following is an excerpt from an advertisement I tried to place on
Craig's list offering a reward for information concerning who is
transmitting the broadcast so I could have it stopped. Apparently even
the staff at C.L. behaves unprofessionally where I am concerned as no
matter where I posted it on the sight it would be quickly flagged and
pulled. it concerns the event in San Francisco I earlier alluded to. I
apologize for the quality of the writing as it was composed quickly on
a library computer less than 24 hours after the event.

I didn't feel comfortable going home since the other residents were
planning on killing me, judging by their behavior, so I went into San
Francisco hoping to hook up with an acquaintance and maybe spending
most of the evening scanning some items I hoped to sell on eBay. When
I got there, about 1 a.m. went into a big Carl's Jr to order a large
coke. It was after 1 am so the train running back to east bay had
stopped running. Now, I've seen this same restaurant at this same time
of morning several times before, and every time there would be no more
than three to five people hanging about in there. However, shortly
after I had settled there the crowd, mysteriously, began to swell.
people there were reacting to me in the strangest way, like I was some
kind of anti celebrity, talking amongst them selves, crowding me, and
a plethora of other singular behaviors. Not the least alarming, but
getting on their cell phones to try and get someone with a car to come
around.

I got pretty nervous at the surreal quality the evenings events had
taken, I was being crowded and mobbed, fearing I was about to be
lynched, I went to the restroom and people said as I passed them, 'not
feeling so good, huh?' I went to the pay phone and call 911, first I
tried calling the police, but they insisted on knowing what, exactly,
was happening and my exact location, which no one was willing to
divulge to me, and although I knew I was on Market Street I didn't
know the address.

They said they needed my location, I said Carl's Junior on market
street; they asked which one, the one by union square? I said I didn't
know (I thought they automatically knew where you were calling from on
911). . Fortunately some Australian tourists came in so I took
advantage of that and had to hang up and make my way to the store
manager who was working behind the counter to ask him if it was indeed
by union square. He just said he didn't know. I asked him the address,
and he said he didn't know. Meanwhile the crowd was swelling. I went
back and called 911 again and deduced it must be the one by Union
Square, luckily, the ambulance guys showed up and I was able to
escape.

the ambulance people were very mean to me and threatened me with
physical violence, although I was extremely cooperative.

after arriving at the psyche ward, they quipped about how 'I had come
to THEM', and one of the doctors was very upset with me for some
unknown reason. Heard something about a 'victim' being brought in to
identify me. I took some pills they gave me and was kind of out of it
for a bit. I strongly suspect, based on the fact that I have done
nothing illegal to anybody, that this was done solely to scare me.
After I came around the staff was acting peculiar, making comments
about my personal life, things they should have had no ideas
concerning as I'd never seen any of them before in my life. one
employee, who looked allot like Sony Bonno, and obviously cultivated
the resemblance, was reading the very email I had sent to someone else
days earlier aloud. the police stopped by, or so I heard, and went
through my personal belongings. I was terrified that I was being
framed for something horrible. I already visited the Oakland D.A., now
it seems I will have to visit the one in SF to clear this stuff up
before it gets out of hand.
of no small concern to me was the fact I had some heroin in a box and
a pipe in my pocket upon admittance. upon being released I noticed I
still had all the drugs, although now the pipe was with the speed in
the box. there were also some clothes mixed in with my own that were
not mine.
needless to say I wont be doing anymore non prescribed drugs till this
matter is resolved.

things are degenerating from bad to worse.

keep in mind these broadcasts are not official, as allot of the
disinformation being disseminated has nothing to do with alleged
criminal activity, rather it is inflammatory and its end is to not
only destroy my life, which it has already completely done, but
clearly to have me killed.

even war criminals are tried before sentencing, and I am certainly not
a mass murderer.

next is an email I have recently sent to Dana;

this whole set up, and that's exactly what it has been from the start,
is patently unfair.
the very nature of these broadcasts at best, invites people who
delight in tripping people up to do so, and at worst, prevents one
from disproving the biased statements and outrageous suppositions
presented by finding opportunities to do so.
I still abhor television and cinema as mindless, passive entertainment
suitable only for morons, but you seem to have devoted yourself to
proving another fact I had always known about it, being, that it is a
very dangerous medium when used irresponsibly.
-r
I can her now how this broadcast is growing more desperate and and
increasingly more vile, due, I think, because I have perhaps foolishly
advertised that I was developing this narrative. I now notice it has
sequences of my private telephone calls, doubtlessly recorded as I was
trying to shake up some other hypocrites who I had, stupidly perhaps,
taken it upon myself to do so. well, I have been doing my bit
struggling to make peace with the rest of the world, so if these
slandering reptiles' only response to this is to render it impossible,
how all the more unfavorable does it reflect on them.
I realized when rereading this document that it, unfortunately, does
little towards portraying me as a more lovable character. people are
drawn to the stupid playful nature of puppies, and naturally cautious
concerning the wisdom of vipers, yet I hope people can understand how
incensed I am over the audacity of their focusing the power of mass
media towards the destruction of a harmless citizen, whatever thoughts
or philosophies he may from time to time amuse himself with. despite
all their scrutiny and surveillance they cannot say I was involved
with any radical political organizations or criminal activity
involving the victimization of others. clearly there would have been
more constructive ways of dealing with me if they were unhappy with
me. maybe I have talent in certain areas of the arts, I am a fiery,
passionate individual, but am also subservient to those I realize have
wisdom I do not, and despite my flamboyant manner of speaking am in
most ways a follower. I am open to reason, and many of those who have
taken it upon themselves to set me up for this fall could have much
more easily brought me around to their way of thinking with
conversation, logical reasoning, and sharing their personal insights
and experiences with me.
I do tend to shut most of the world out.
Dana, for her practical common sense (although presently it seems to
have been eclipsed by her blasphemous hubris), Bruce and John for
their academic learning, I had respect for all of these people and
others, and would have gladly studied at their feet, but instead they
decided to set up and betray me as a fool in front of the world.
although I never felt superior to anyone else they have shown
themselves and the nosy people who watch this show they have no
business watching, that I am at the very least no worse than they are.
in fact, one of the reasons I stopped watching television is because I
realize how easily I am influenced, and I don't like being manipulated
mentally, especially by faceless executives with questionable agendas.
realizing this perhaps it demonstrates a superior self awareness that
I put no small amount of effort into avoiding the hypnotic gaze of
that brainwashing Cyclops known as television, as well as it's evil
cousin cinema. I instead entertain and amuse myself by making my
pictures, writing- which includes the developing of this document, and
reading.
having just mentioned reading, this may be the time to relate my
experiences working at that Berkeley book store.
when I had first arrived up here, after being majorly spooked into
doing so by a string of events I am positive Dana had orchestrated as
they involved people going through my personal belongings in an effort
to then present their findings to my employers with the intention of
getting me fired. I know from bits and pieces that I heard that there
was some kind of financial motivation provided to them for doing so, a
recurring theme in my life ever since. I found myself absolutely
abandoned in Dana's basement. not knowing hardly anybody up here, and
having filled out applications at everyplace that occurred to me, I
was left with nothing to do but brood over how, despite all my
efforts, no potential employers were calling me in for interviews.
now Dana, being as well off as she is, could have easily, through
friends or friends of friends, hooked me up with some kind of
appropriate employment situation. instead all she would do was
energetically assert, over and over again, that I should get any kind
of job, no matter how menial, as soon as possible, and I always had
the impression she meant 'the more menial the better'. no doubt this
was so that through all this negative publicity I would be stuck there
indefinitely...if I was lucky. now, it is not that I would be
unwilling to work at a fast food place that I refused to apply for
such situations, rather I know from experience that I am unable to
adequately do that kind of work. a few years earlier I worked briefly
at KFC, and I'm telling you, during those lunch rushes those potato
wedges would be flying everywhere EXCEPT into the little cartons I was
supposed to be putting them in. just one example of how the partial
paralysis of my left hand renders my coordination awkward. people who
can do that kind of work well are, in my opinion, not paid anywhere
near what they are worth, especially considering how much money those
places pull in.
also, based on my personal experience, living under this shadow of
monumental mass media slander makes jobs that may be unpleasant to
begin with, absolutely unendurable. I remember when I was briefly
working for Round Table Pizza in Vallejo, the owner, who was
Ethiopian, was unfairly hard on me, much more so in my case than with
any of the other employees. this was over seven years ago yet I have
no doubt it was due to this show. it only not long ago occurred to me
how difficulties between myself and my employers and coworkers would
always seem to develop shortly after I would tell Dana where I was
working.
when I was seeking work after just having arrived at Dana's in
Oakland, I was very disheartened by how much resistance I was
encountering. I had NEVER had such a rough time obtaining employment
before. I was doing all the right things, dressing as presentable as
the job I was applying for warranted, filling out the applications
completely and neatly, introducing myself to the person charged with
hiring and offering a supplemental resume, and periodically calling or
walking in to check up on the status of my applications, yet I would
invariably be told that the store in question wasn't presently hiring,
this despite the fact I would frequently see many people working there
who weren't there when I originally applied.
initially, when I first arrived at her house, I would situate myself
upstairs to await Dana's arrival home from work as I felt she was my
dearest and only friend, and indeed the only person I felt I could
unburden myself to. she quickly put an end to that habit of mine
stating that she needed time alone after work. Understandable. it
wasn't long after that that she was hardly there at all. so, already
feeling creepy about going about in public because of the strange
behavior towards me I had noticed in other people, and having no luck
finding work I again started drinking too much. at first I would
usually start around 6pm as by that time I would be home from job
hunting and, because it was after business hours, I didn't expect any
potential employers to call me scheduling interviews. however, as time
wore on and it became increasingly obvious no such calls were
forthcoming, my 'happy hour' gradually became earlier and earlier till
I found myself drinking round the clock, and even waking up in the
dead of night having to have a few more drinks to go back to sleep.
even before I had started self medicating, my depression was such that
it rendered it impossible for me to do much of anything, besides look
for work which I thought would help me snap out of it. it was when I
found that I could not stop drinking that I decided I needed serious
help. I wanted to go to AA meetings, and I wanted to be sober when I
began, so I stayed home all day Sunday and smoked cannabis, not
trusting myself if I happened by a liquor store while outside. despite
being stoned I had to deal with the DTs, which were pretty bad for me
considering how much alcohol I had been habitually consuming.
Monday morning I called the AA hot line to find the closest, earliest
meeting possible and was told it was on International Blvd., no small
distance from where I at the time lived. I have since found that to
have been erroneous, but I did make it all the way out there in time.
the atmosphere at that meeting struck me as somewhat hostile, but when
I saw the person in charge of it signing a big stack of court slips I
figured the reason to be that most of those people were their
unwillingly, so I attributed it to that. at any event, I picked up a
meeting schedule while there and began attending in earnest. around
the time I had decided to stop imbibing, Dana had told me I had a
month to move out. naturally one may assume it was because I had
become a full blown alcoholic, and I think it was too, but not because
it was that she didn't want a drunk living in her house, rather she
felt it would be the perfect time to push me helpless into the world,
a world she had prejudiced against me in preparation for my coming.
indeed, although I looked at allot of places and interviewed with
dozens of prospective room mates, I was having no luck. after I had
been in the program for nearly a month and was relating to her what a
difficult time I was having finding a living situation, she told me I
needn't worry about it as I could go on staying there. she just sort
of dropped this fact nonchalantly. I know it was only because I was
meeting allot of new people through the program and chances are I
would have fared well given what a support network I was then
developing. this would have rendered all her efforts to destroy me
futile, or eventually lead to my learning of the broadcast, so she had
to keep me around and figure out some other ways to mess me up before
cutting me loose.
also, the few friends I had such as who imposed themselves on me kept
trying to get me to drink. Ed Rynberg, who supposedly quit drinking
five years previously, was now perpetually drunk and inviting me over
to drink. also, once when I showed up at Bruce's to take Anne with me
to a meeting, she was already soused and, this was before we had
started fooling around, invited me to go to her room with her to have
sex rather than go to the meeting. since she was already blotto when
she extended this invitation I decided against taking advantage of it
and went alone to the meeting anyway.
I enjoyed going to the gatherings this time around as I was doing so
voluntarily. however, unlike all the other times, it seemed everyone
was overly stressing the aspect of the program that requires one to
make amends above all the other steps.
it occurs to me now that this fact was due undoubtedly to Dana's
damned show.
at that time, aside from meetings, I was doing volunteer work at the
Malcolm X elementary school in Berkeley, then, for once, seemingly,
this time at least, it would have appeared that my secret fame was
working in my favor. among the types of jobs I had focused on were
book store jobs as I had extensive experience in that area, both with
businesses that sold new, and those that dealt in used books. I
preferred used book stores because, naturally, there are infinitely
more books out of print than are in print. I applied repeatedly at
every book store in the east bay with no results. suddenly, as if in
answer to my prayers, a job suddenly became available at Cody's on 4th
street in the receiving department. coincidentally it was the exact
same job I had had 20 years previously although then it was at the
Telegraph Avenue location. Cody's dealt in only new books, but had an
extensive inventory of them in stock at any given time.
indeed, it was a remarkable coincidence worthy of note that the exact
same job mysteriously opened up that I had had at the very same
company 20 years previously with same store. perhaps it was because it
was the only job I was qualified for that would have shielded me from
the public, thus avoiding the possibility of my celebrity being
revealed to me by a careless patron. also, since one of the stores was
to close down around a year later, a fact the higher ups no doubt
anticipated, it would again have left me unemployed after they had had
the opportunity to closely observe me for the period leading up to it.
for whatever reasons, I did receive what I felt to be an icy reception
from the more senior employees of the inner circle upon making the
rounds of introduction. Larry Davidson, who initially informed me
regarding the opening, seemed friendly enough, but again, he is one of
these people who have the gift of presenting himself so whatever his
feelings towards the person may be. now Kevin Vance, on the other
hand, who, along with Larry, had also worked with me 20 years ago in
that department, was a different creature entirely. in fact, when I
had first met him two decades before I had an unwholesome impression
of him as a malignant skulker, one who, through his cowardice, would
vent his spleen upon people while lurking, hidden behind the scenes
enveloped in shadows, usually by cooperating with plans laid down by
other spiteful people as I've never known him to say, or otherwise
express or indicate the intelligence or cunning required to originate
the sorts of plans he would eagerly participate in if and when given
the opportunity to do so. naturally, I found his presence very
unpalatable, between his childish temper tantrums and his laugh which
reminded me of the braying of a jackass whenever a subtle slight
against me was uttered, I, understandably, had a difficult time
tolerating his presence.
in fact, it was when I was complaining to Dana about 'tantrum boy',
which was how I referred to him, to Dana, when she suddenly assumed
her sly expression and tone of voice, which I was to know her to do
several times after that, every time indicative of hardships to come
for me, and asked me his real name. it was soon after that that he
began to regard me in a somewhat more condescending way than was his
usual wont, which until then was more in the vein of a kind of a
nervous, fawning nature. it was also around this time that the other
employees started having loud conversations obviously concerning me,
under the pretext of discussing some other imaginary person. also,
there was this one particularly annoying guy whose conversation was
usually limited to baseball, who would then always try to work his
"GIRLFRIEND" into whatever he was saying. actually I found this funny,
being reminded of that character from 'the upright citizens' brigade'
on comedy central, where this obviously homosexual person always makes
it a point to work his 'girlfriend' into his conversations,
accompanied by the impatient, exasperated rolling of eyes by those he
would be conversing with. however it was obvious to me it was really a
cheap shot at me as this was before the wave of 'groupies' started
flowing my way and I had no intimate female companionship.
not having any idea concerning the magnitude of this ongoing slander
being of a televisual nature, I thought people were following me
around on line and reading what I posted on the Internet. it was also
around this time that the she devil, Anne Hunt, had got me started on
drugs again. I had recently stopped attending meetings as I was
employed full time. also, after I initially stopped drinking and
suffered the DTs, I, a month or so later had relapsed feeling down
about Mama being ill. even though I was only drinking beer this time,
when I quit again, despite my only drinking beer I was drinking so
much of it I again suffered severe withdrawals. having suffered that
twice I can honestly say I have absolutely no desire to start drinking
again under any pretext. besides, when I was drunk I was absolutely
useless and did nothing but sink into bed watching television.

then there was an incident where some pictures of myself and an old
girlfriend, who had since married one of my coworkers, depicting us
both frolicking around nude, not having sex mind you, and the photos
did not show her face, were posted under my name on one of my
accounts. the photos were in fact so unidentifiable that the only way
one could discern the identity of the subjects would be by the
arrangement and types of furniture in the back ground. I had no
recollection of posting them and was horrified to discover them there,
and hastily pulled them. now it is slightly possible that since I
wasn't getting very much sleep and was resentful concerning everyone
spying on me on line yet denying they were in fact doing this, that I
may have posted them as a reward for their snooping, or to draw them
out concerning it. at any event it did indeed reveal undeniably that
they had been closely observing my on line activities. however, since
I don't recall having posted them, and given the fact Dana had been
stealing files off my computer, and going through my things to scan
and then broadcast her findings, and the fact that, although I had
forgotten it at the time, that she had my password which I used on all
my accounts, I feel she did it to turn the heat up for me. although
its not illegal to post those types of things on line, it was used by
the management as their 'Reich stag fire' where after they began to
make plans to terminate me.
I almost gave them an opportunity to do so all nice and neat and legal
like due to an innocent error while wielding a box cutting knife. as I
was working, this Larry and Kevin were having one of their childish
mock conversations concerning how they were planning on messing some
guys car up, the 'guy' referred to was obviously me. I reacted to this
childish harassment by focusing on my work and doing so with as much
speed as I could summon, which, unfortunately at that point, was
cutting up some boxes I had just removed the books out of for
receiving. I was working fast and furiously, yet finding myself
distracted by the immature antagonism of these two oafish louts I
accidentally gashed my arm. well, I would from time to time cut myself
here and there so, although this one was quite deeper than usual, I
just bandaged it and continued on with my work. the injury felt
strangely sore however, and I worried that it might have become
infected. around a week or so later, while at home and lifting a
rather substantial ream of paper, something in my wrist popped,
feeling as though a tightly wound spring had suddenly sprang free from
it's coils of tension, and I could no longer articulate my left thumb.
I suspected at the time, and the doctor confirmed this, that when I
cut my arm I had partially severed the tendon charged with elevating
the thumb, and the later, additional stress of lifting the papers
created just enough additional tension upon the ligament where the
thread holding together
I shall here take the opportunity to refute some of the lies I
overheard that lying dog Dana telling the world on the Michael Savage
radio show, where she said I was sending her death threats. I NEVER
sent her any communications where I stated I was going to kill her. I
did, however, send her some emails where I had predicted an unpleasant
end for her as karmic repayment for her harsh, heavy handed treatment
of me through using to popular media she has access to and thereby
ruining my life by presenting me as an undesirable creature before a
gullible world. to me this was the equivalent of trying to kill a fly
with an elephant gun. as I was in the habit of doing I would attach
copies of whatever artwork I had happened to be working on at the
time, which was generally not all sunshine and rainbows, but none of
my work is, especially these days considering the climate I am forced
to reside in. naturally, whatever I had to say to her was not exactly
life affirming, but its more than a bit of a stretch to call them
death threats.
also I heard her say that I had stolen her library card, which, again
is a lie. she gave it to me when I first entered her trap by moving
into her basement. I say 'gave it to me' as she never has since asked
for it back. admittedly I have been using it as I need access to the
library computers to broadcast my side of the story, the side that is
closest to the ultimate truth as it is not told with intentions to
ruin anyone, but merely to counter her intentions of doing so to me.
the fact that I have revealed allot of unwholesome personal
information should attest to the fact that I am not trying to
manipulate popular opinion so as to portray myself as a hero or a pure
innocent victim, but rather show that although I am flawed and far
from perfect, my rights, the rights all of us in theory are supposed
to share, are in my case being rolled over by those who have the
economic resources to do so and themselves, apparently, feel above the
law.
I have never issued any threats to her, though I would have felt more
than justified had I done so, nor have I stolen a single thing from
her. despite this, I know she stole my drivers license from me before
booting me out. in fact, the last thing she said to me as I was
driving away was, "don't get pulled over! ha". I didn't get it at the
time until one of the many times I did get pulled over after that.
fortunately I still retained a copy of my old drivers license, which
the police could just radio in to find that I had a current one on
file.
I can see now that my document is nearing the final phases of it's
completion. I need only now expand upon a few things I have alluded
to, like the Cody's debacle and specific incidents where strangers
revealed to me their awareness of my unfortunate showcasing, and
certain things involving the Social Security administration. also,
there's some not altogether miner things I have, as is often the case
when one tries to blurt out in a single gasp the entire story about
anything, overlooked and left out, but barring any major upsets I
predict it should be complete in a week or two.

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