NOTE : This is a true story of a mid level GENERATIONAL FREEMASON AMERICAN FAMILY told in a series of posts with historical context.
These posts run over the email limit, so open now to read in its entirety.
While it helps to read the previous posts (Parts 1 thru 5 A & B) to gain the full picture, each post stands on its own to one degree or another.
Link to Part A of this post - part 6 (part B) :
How To Make A Bonsai Tree (part A)
MACRO TO MICRO :
MIND over MATTER.
If WWII told humanity anything it was this - Traditional strategies of WARFARE HAD REACHED A PEAK.
Traditional weaponry reached its ZENITH in the ATOM BOMB.
I am NOT arguing the existence of Atomic Bombs.
I am examining THE PSYCHOLOGICAL IMPACT OF ATOMIC BOMBS.
That is how we got to this. There is no need to wonder why so many were so obedient in 2020.
On August 6, 1945, the ENOLA GAY dropped the first atomic bomb, LITTLE BOY, on Hiroshima, Japan. The plane was accompanied by two observation aircraft, the GREAT ARTISTE and NECESSARY EVIL. The ENOLA GAY was named after the mother of its pilot, Paul Warfield TIBBETS, Jr.
Pilot Tibbits. OFFICER TIPPIT. Google him.
Notice if you flip the “b”s you get the “p”s.
In the sky flyin’ high and on the ground messin’ around.
As Above So Below. On Earth as it is In Heaven.
Flippin’ the Script. Movie Script vs. Holy Scripture.
The plane that dropped the second atomic bomb, FAT MAN, was named BOCKSCAR, a play on BOXCAR.
Both Officer Tippit and Boxcars figured large in the details of -
THE JFK ASSASSINATION. As did my Father.
My father worked for the FRISCO RAILROAD in Dallas, Texas, at the time of the assassination.
My first name is : GAY
“ENOLA” is an anagram for ALONE. ALONE GAY.
ISOLATED “G”.
Those wily ol’ FREEMASONS luv their numbers and symbols and names.
All the livelong day. At all levels.
AND they have no qualms perping this crap on NEWBORN BABIES.
“Get ‘em while they’re young and you got ‘em for life.”
THE SAME PSYCHOLOGICAL STRATEGY MCDONALD’S USES WITH Happy Meals!
After the BOMBS were dropped on Japan and worldwide sentiment toward THE USofA shifted from “ALLY” and “SHINING BEACON OF DEMOCRACY” to “SHIT! WATCH OUT FOR THESE GUYS! THEY ARE PSYCHO!”, it became clear the newly developed Nazi “SCIENCE” of Mind Control must be embraced and swiftly.
A quiet backdoor weapon was now needed. A STEALTHY POISON.
MIND CONTROL. The newly-minted US (NAZI) Citizens imported in OPERATION PAPERCLIP were beholden to the US Military Intelligence (CIA) for their very lives. Though most were glad to do it.
IT WAS THE LEAST THEY COULD DO.
So they instituted Mind Control Experimentation Nationwide. It was simple to find willing test subjects because the test subjects had NO IDEA THEY WERE TEST SUBJECTS.
Many were children and children can’t give informed consent anyway.
SO THERE.
Like my Mother at the Catholic Indian Re-Education School.
I may as well get this out of the way and jump in the deep end.
I can only reckon my sexual abuse began from day one of my life since I can’t remember a time when it wasn’t happening.
There are as wide a variety of techniques used to make a child MK Ultra Slave into the desired result as there are purposes and individual temperaments of the subject(s).
There are also bloodline considerations and debts owed by families.
Like any architect, the builder knows what the purpose is of the final building AND IS CONSCIOUS OF MATERIALS AND BUDGET.
These parameters are applicable to both the physical and spiritual.
(INTERESTING THE FREEMASONS SAY THE “G” MEANS THE GREAT ARCHITECT.)
So, like a blueprint, plans are made and the crew follows them.
In hindsight, I think the “plan” for my development was to produce a charming, sexually adept, physically attractive, intelligent slave with intelligent skills and the potential for violence.
Also spiritual abilities like empathy bordering on mind-reading, psychic attenuation and spellcasting.
I deduce this is why my BIG BLACK IRISH FREEMASON SPIDER GRANDFATHER nearly beat his 3 year old daughter to death...
I believe his daughter failed him. He OWED A DEBT. Of a female child. So...as my child aunt was rejected, by?????? and why??????, my Mother and Father are bred and I AM BORN to fulfill that blood libel.
Aunt Ruth and the OLD GERMAN COUPLE took charge.
My teenage Mother and Father in their little garage apartment, my Father working the night shift at the Wonderbread Factory and my Mother experiencing profound anxiety at being a new mother, were swept up in the plans and “naturally” played their parts in my UPBRINGING.
My Mother was an obsessive cleaner. I came to understand this was less about the virtue of cleanliness and more about CLEANING UP THE CRIME SCENE, like a meticulous murderer. LEAVE NO TRACE.
This habit served the family well throughout the years in maintenance of the PERFECT FACADE.
Keep this in mind the next time you encounter a “TOO PERFECT” home.
She was equally meticulous in scrubbing me clean and spotless.
It was mandatory I was always spotless and groomed. My hair washed daily and I don’t remember a time when I didn’t sleep in curlers all night.
Money being tight, my Mother had to make her own clothes. My Father expected home cooked meals. The young couples’ schedule was flipped due to my Father’s night shift at Wonderbread, so they were more than relieved to hand me over to the -
OLD (NAZI) GERMAN COUPLE who looked after me all day.
The Old Couple taught me many things.
Superficially,
How to talk and walk at a very young age.
How to dance and sing “precious” little performances and be charming in general to adults in order for me to receive their praise and admiration.
The beginnings of how to read and write.
How to draw and paint and tell amusing stories.
ALL ASSUMED TO BE BEYOND MY CAPABILITIES FOR MY AGE STILL MEASURED IN MONTHS, NOT YEARS.
How to tolerate bodily grooming like uncomfortable fancy clothing and shoes and curled and styled hair, etc.
Expensive clothing provided by AUNT RUTH’s MONEY on the regular as well as showering of expensive toys like the LIFE SIZE SHIRLEY TEMPLE DOLL made of porcelain who was my constant companion.
Special foods and candies. You get the picture...
I was ALWAYS DRESSED UP LIKE A DOLL. From the rhinestone barrettes in my hair to the lace socks and patent leather Mary Janes in every single color on my feet.
I was also given a very expensive WALT DISNEY PICTURE BOOK with full page printed plates of all the stories WE’VE COME TO LOVE AND CHERISH!
I was told this book had been MY FATHER’S BOOK in his childhood and to treat it with the utmost CARE AND RESPECT.
To pay extra special attention to the story of PINOCCHIO.
Which frightened me to death. Especially the ravenous wolves and the donkey children on the child slave island.
YET I COULD NOT RESIST IT.
I watched THE WIZARD OF OZ compulsively every year of my life until the age of 23 when I suddenly stopped.
(A break in programming.)
I LOVED “SOMEWHERE OVER THE RAINBOW”. IT WAS MY FAVORITE SONG.
I LOVED TOTO (not the band, the doggie).
The Old (NAZI) German Couple abused me. I have fleeting memories of horrible terrifying moments with them manipulating my body sexually. They didn’t use painful methods, but coercive, yes.
They taught me skills such as -
EIDETIC MEMORY (With the exception of people’s proper names. Useful, so the child cannot accurately identify the perps...)
VISUALIZATION (including physical prowess and strength)
ASTRAL PROJECTION (I could fly over areas and see the entire lay of the buildings and land with accuracy)
EXTREME EMPATHY (I could not only feel what others felt but read aspects of their minds via their emotions.)
INVISIBILITY (not actual, but how to pass through rooms w/o detection)
BODILY CONTROL (not only functions, but weight, height, fertility, etc...)
I remained extremely small for my age for years as people found my tiny size “endearing”. I wore infant sized clothes as a toddler.
I can only assume they instructed my Teenage Parents how to sexually abuse me, though I also guess my Parents had their own experiences to fall back on. My Parents didn’t have to start from “scratch”.
My Mother was terrified in the night, being left alone with me while my Father worked nights, and she would lay on the bed, holding me so tightly and close and rubbing her body rhythmically against mine. Constantly scanning the windows for “men” who were peeping at us and jumping at every creak of the apartment.
I spent the entire night trying to gain a centimeter of space between myself and my mother’s body. It would take hours and I was never successful. The moment she detected I had pulled away, even ever so slightly, she wrapped me in her arms and legs even more tightly and resumed her rhythms.
My Mother told everyone I didn’t love her.
There were famous family photos of me as an infant pushing adults away when they tried to hold me. The photos made everyone laugh.
EXCEPT ME. I threw them all away years ago...
My Mother became quickly pregnant not a year after my birth.
My TEENAGE PARENTS WERE EXCELLENT BREEDING STOCK.
Changes had to be made!
My Father became a POLICEMAN!
My PARENT GOT A CAR! THEY GOT A NEW HOUSE!
Cuz they wuz movin’ on UP!
More to Come...God have mercy on us all.
Thank you for sharing. It doesn't shock me in the slightest, almost a relief to read? Sorry if that sounds horrible. Exposing this stuff feels like it takes away its power. If I had a story to tell, I would also. Reading your is sort of a vicarious release.
I had the opposite experience in my childhood. My mum put as much distance between us as possible, she would barely look me in the eye. One time she informed me of a death in the family. There must have been 3-4 meters distance between us, and she said it like an after thought. When I got my period, she couldn't leave the room fast enough. My mum would often say I looked like nobody owned me (like a street kid).
I don't remember much from my childhood, but I remember always being scared I was pregnant.
I remember being deeply afraid of getting my period for the first time.
I remember always planning my escape, running away. Even now I sleep with my back to the wall or sit in room with my back to the wall.
I could read and write at a young age, spectacular memory, keen sense of sound / sight / smell, very tiny for my age (all my siblings are much bigger than me), incredible sense of balance, flexible, could 'sing like an angel' etc.
But, no endurance.
I have face blindness, and struggle with names.
And although I have a deep empathy and sense for things in people, I don't have the 'people skills' to know how to deal with what I feel.
Around 11 years old my failing health reached a point of downward spiral.
I got too sick to be useful I guess. If this was something I experienced, I must 'washed out' of whatever the training program was. Too 'weak' to continue.
I have scattered memories starting around 11, but my memory in general is fried.
Just more illuminating every time. Thank you so very much ❤️ My heart is with you all the way dear Pirate. xo