Wednesday, December 2, 2015

On Accountability and the Pending Poleshift Announcement

First things first.  That damned Announcement, that Putin, Xi Jingping and Obama are supposed to issue about the coming poleshift that the approach of Nibiru will cause (and the admission that its arrival is the chief issue behind the Cover-Up about aliens) is now over-due.  As I type this, the heads of state of most of the developed world are meeting in Paris to decide how to handle the public reaction to it - under the guise of "climate change".  Global warming my ass!  That damn lie has been bandied about for so long an entire generation has been cultivated using it as an excuse for a reduced lifestyle, and yes, there will be hell to pay once the lies have been admitted to in this one singular Announcement.  The reality of the evil in control of most of the power-structures on the globe's surface will become evident, if only by implication.....and sadly, few of the West's intelligentsia will be able to handle the fact they've bought into their bamboozlement hook, line and sinker - and have used the 'Ridicule Factor' as a self-governing mechanism to do so.  Behold the coming wrath!  Made worse, too, by the increasing amount of time that passes awaiting the truth to be told.

It could have been different, and a lot remains to be determined as well by the way the complicit mass media will reluctantly allow it to be made.  Even now, today, the mass media propaganda organ known as the CNN cable television network is pushing the idea that the Democratic presidential contest is all but over in favor of Hillary Clinton.  Senator Bernie Sanders, who clearly won the single televised debate as determined by CNN's co-sponsor Facebook, is being determinedly marginalized by the [Zionist-aligned, let's say it bluntly] management of this broadcast network, so that the masses will accept the "coronation" of Hillary.  Success begets success, but with every thuggish action like this, more evil karma is due.

Originally this rant was to focus on accountability, a virtue that has become practically absent in almost every area of life since the rise of the corporate entity in our daily lives, and particularly since the criminal Bush cabal plotted and carried out the events of 9/11/2001. The official fiction supposedly explaining those evil acts has been perpetuated by countless others, including their successors in the White House, who continue to solemnly invoke the fiction as truth.  What damn liars!  Now, the fiction has indeed become a reality, as how could it otherwise since so much of daily American life has been overshadowed by the events of that day? Those events set the stage for the activation of the CoG (Continuity of Government) plans drawn up shortly after the American power-elite learned of the coming pole-shift in the 1940s, as well as the justification for two never-ending wars (Afghanistan and Iraq/Syria, a/k/a Isis/Isil/Daesh), and the passage of the so-called 'Patriot Act' which decimated civil liberties in the name of 'security'.

How do they sleep at night?  Seriously!  How do they live with themselves, knowing as they must that they won't be judged on how much gold and power they've amassed, but on how they've treated their fellow man and furthered the virtues of mankind?  I'm not being rhetorical, either; Mr. Obama can make supposedly righteous claims about how we all need to "let bygones be bygones", that "the perfect is the enemy of the good", but surely  he must know - as intelligent as he is, being the reincarnation of Lincoln and all - that without accountability by the treasonous criminals that preceded him in the White House, the masses will see that the most powerful can indeed "get away with it", and those who are in the Undecided category will learn from this - and absolve themselves of their OWN accountability issues.

Even if we were to take the thugs of yester-year at their own words, the truth is that they did NOT "make us safe", they did NOT "keep us safe", as brother Jeb Bush tries to claim on his ever-shrinking campaign trail.  Even going by their own 'admissions', they arrogantly did nothing in the face of multiple warnings by hundreds if not thousands of operatives in various national "intelligence" communities.  We now know - those of us who have spent at least a few hours over the past decade-plus reviewing the claims with a critical eye - that the entire Saudi Arabian plot was artificially created as a false flag front by Saudi allies the Mossad and the Bush cabal as a cover story for their own heinous activities, which had been plotted starting many years before in order to profit to the tune of billions if not trillions of dollars, along with control of the oil and gas reserves of the globe. 

These days, hundreds of hours of YouTube videos show the details of the 9/11 plot, the money trail leading up to it, even the movements of the evil perps like Richard Bremer that moved from conspirator in those events (as an example, he was 'caught in traffic' and 'couldn't make it to the office that day', though by some miracle he was able, within hours, to rush to the television studios to point the finger at Tim Osman/Osama Bin Laden) to one of the worse of the evil perps that created IS/ISIS/ISIL/Daesh by his decision - as vicar of Occupied Iraq - to disband Saddam's army without providing them alternate PAID activities so that they could continue to support their families.  No, instead he turned them loose and thus most ended up in the cauldron of Camp Bucca in southern Iraq, where they were cultivated into ISIS operatives.  (Note:  US administration officials prefer "Isil", for "Islamic State In the Levant", because they dislike associated the name of their secret-society goddess "Isis" with the evil of wanton terrorism they can't control, even as they largely created it.)  

And today, the evil continues, processed smoothly with nary a blink by US/UK mass-media, with Turkish president Evil Erdogan claiming Russia had slandered him with accusations that he was "personally profiting from oil provided to him by ISIS".  He even challenged Pres. Putin and said he would step down as president (a position he was NOT elected to; that election too was stolen by he and his crony thugs) if Putin could prove that Turkey was a conspirator with ISIS in selling oil.  How would he have not known that Putin not only could, but DID provide ample proof in a briefing made by his top generals, complete with video and satellite photos, that made Evil Erdogan a liar through and through?  Perhaps he knew that not only would NATO and the EU provide him with protective cover, but that western media would ALSO 'turn a blind eye' from the proof as it was meticulously spelled out.  At least the BBC made a tepid attempt to address the claim, but said that he only saw "grainy and blurred" images.  What crap!  What evil!  How can that man, that BBC reporter in Moscow who saw what I saw, sleep at night?!  Perhaps his salary blinds him to the truth, or makes the lie easy enough to swallow that he minds not having sold his soul for the lies.  Yes, the video and images were black and white, but what better medium to show the stark contrast to the lies put out by criminal enterprises, full of color and superficial distraction?  Black and white they were, but lies they were not.  

These are only the most recent examples; every day, even at the most mundane, local level accountability is denied and averted.  "Wasn't me"; "I was only following orders"; "someone else would've had to do it anyway"......these are the same claims that were made by most Germans who labored under the Third Reich.  Who will liberate us from the thuggish cabal that keeps Mr. Obama in a puppet's stranglehold?  The one thing he can do, and will do I trust - is to make the long-awaited Announcement that Behold, Nibiru Cometh.  The longer the lie goes on, the longer accountability is averted, the worse the pain the evil power-elite will suffer.  

Come clean now, Mr. Obama.  Tell the public the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Yes, the "masses are asses", but they've been protected from the truth for too long and need to know the extent of their naivete and ignorance.  The longer we suffer under the tyranny of stupidity, the worse the cyber-flogging that awaits the evil ones whose greed has been slaked by appeasing ignorance.  

In the immortal words of the [former] Dan Burisch [now Crain], "For the sake of humanity, tell the world!"  

It's time, Mr. President.  No more excuses!  Issue the Announcement NOW!





[And afterwards, take out the trash Mr President, if you can manage to wield that presidential podium/bully pulpit a tad longer; put out a call to have all the illegitimate heads of state admit to their criminal acts in stealing their own elections, call out the fact your own predecessor was illegitimately installed in a stolen presidency, and then allow the rule of law to proceed accordingly in these matters of treason so that accountability and the rule of law can be maintained and greatly assuage the potential for mass panic as the reality of the Announcement sinks in.  It's not only the "right thing to do", Mr. President, it's the most prudent thing to do.]



Wednesday, August 26, 2015

I (Almost) Shot A Black Guy - And (Would Have) Liked It

Yes, sadly it's true. The title is a take on Katy Perry's famous song, but the reality is that something happened to me that might help explain to black people why they face so much racism, even after having lived under a two-term half-black president.

In my previous article, I described how I caught a black thief red-handed, taking an iPhone (not mine, but one in my care) from inside my car and then running away with it. I couldn't chase him as I'm disabled in my right leg, but luckily he didn't get away with anything else. In this latest instance, which will inexorably work its way to an arrest thanks to technology (and assuming law enforcement does their job), a black guy who was hired by the contractor I employed to handle some rehab work on a Florida property took advantage of the trust and responsibility he was given, and sadly used it to dig through my things and steal an iPhone that was brand-new, still in the box it was received in, as well as an expensive tactical flashlight - which I noted and was about to deduct from the contracted price unless it was returned. The flashlight was returned (though the pocket clip had been removed; was it spite? Customizing his ill-gotten gain? I gave him the benefit of the doubt on that one, as he asked for a flashlight to investigate the air ducts).

Was I expected to watch over his every move, as he operated a rug-cleaning machine throughout the house? That would have been racist to be that distrustful, no? We even talked a bit, he was animated about the subject of Jay Z's "Rockefella records" and his take on the illuminati, and how the music industry blackmails artists like Michael Jackson before they make stars of them, and I actually felt like we had developed a rapport of sorts, though I had to restrain myself from talking too much and instead let him get on with doing the job his boss had assigned him to do. But instead of doing a good job at it, he abused that trust and committed a felony theft that he will choke on for the rest of his life, since an opportunity was given to him to return it unscathed and in the same condition as he took it. Instead of thinking carefully about the situation, and how he was hurting his black brothers by proving the stereotype to be alive and well, he has elected to play gangsta - and threatened the co-worker with death if he helped authorities track him down. The situation is still fluid and may change, but it's doubtful. Once a thief - who to all the world can be charming on the outside - feels they can get over on you, the only thing that will finally change their attitude is usually the heavy hand of either law enforcement or vigilante action, and though I'm tempted, I know full well the latter course of action would backfire.  

This, my friends, is where white racism is born. It's often said that a conservative is a white liberal that's been mugged personally, and while I was indeed mugged by a black guy many years ago (I fled before he could fire his gun at me), I didn't allow it to turn me racist. The guitarist I worked with in my band Mindshaft is black, and for some reason that fact never intruded on either our friendship or personal relationship. He was simply a person who happened to be black, and the vast majority of black people I'm sure are of a similar demeanor - treat them like anyone else, and they respond in kind. But now, if and when confronted by a black guy who isn't dressed professionally and able to speak in 'commercial English', I won't be able to trust him around my things, and it is this kind of reactive impulse that is at the root of why white cops are much more likely to be suspicious of black people - there's simply too much history of black thieves and hoods, reinforced by 'gangsta' culture today, which seems to give succor to black guys who think the world owes them more than what they can honestly earn like any other person of any other race. I spoke briefly with a friend on the phone about it today and he suggests that the origin of much of the problem lies with the proclivities of poor black girls to allow themselves to get pregnant so that the well-meaning monthly welfare checks that add up can provide for them while the kids that result are scattered around like 'toys', or a collection of pets and pests. This would be the cultural cradle for such behavior, with the resulting progeny left to raise themselves - without a father, either, in most cases. This may sound like that grossly over-rated right-wing caricature of the "welfare queen", but unfortunately the evidence even in this decade seems to bear this out to some degree. Enough to reinforce those kind of ugly 'jokes' at the above-mentioned website. Can someone please show me evidence to the contrary? That what I'm going through is an aberration? Because it came from somewhere, and in all this talk about "black lives matter" [doesn't ZetaTalk describe how George Soros - among other elitists - is fomenting this racially polarizing 'movement' in order to justify having the president use the military to protect their property after making the Announcement about Nibiru? If so, shouldn't Soros himself face the same kind of stern justice that he seems to be stirring the pot for, regarding prosecuting white police officers who shoot to kill in an altercation? It seems Soros - if this is true, and it's very plausible - wants to create such a racially polarized population that the rational 'mainstream' is suffocated into silence, bullied into siding either with black racists on the fringes of the Black Lives Matter Soros-funded movement, or white racists on the fringes of the Fox News spectrum.]

Now, I have to wait until I can return to Florida, file the official police report with the detective responsible for the jurisdiction where the crime occurred, after which they can act on the information provided by the thief's movements as determined by the iPhone's activation - which occurred the day after the thief stole it, with me being unaware at the time (am I supposed to assume something might be taken, and go through all my things in every box exposed to this black hired hand? Again, that would be 'racist' and now I'll have to do that, if I ever let another black guy in my house; it's the way we humans have of protecting ourselves against threats). So sad and yet so true. I had hoped it would never come to this, but apparently it has. 

Nonetheless, I know that this is a test of my humanity, to learn whether I can overcome this without giving into a racist tendency at every opportunity. In fact, since learning of the theft (it was a week after it occurred that it came to light, when I delivered the box to its rightful owner), I have seethed with a racist rage, fantasizing about taking a double-barreled shotgun to this would-be gangsta's head and blowing the evil ass away....and enjoying doing it. However, the evil won't be cured simply by amping up the violence of revenge; what needs to happen is the evil must be apprehended and examined in close-up scrutiny: why oh why do these stereotypes prove so true, and what can be done about it? Can the evil in this sad black 'gangsta' kid be drawn out enough so that he can take responsibility for the evil betrayal of his black brothers by his actions, and move on to make amends and be treated with dignity as a decent human being? People of any color know the difference between right and wrong, and no matter how many culturally-mitigating memes you throw at it, that's what the problem comes down to - and why we have ongoing white racism as well as black racism. Perhaps this was a form of black racism, directed at me. Like the 'disgruntled TV news anchor' who murdered a female colleague and cameraman in cold blood today....irony, or just coincidence?  I'm disturbed by the idea I could now be feeling less sympathy for Trayvon Martin and more empathy for George Zimmerman, and I don't like it.

That's my challenge, and in the weeks ahead (and it WILL take some time to go through the process of closing in on this thief.....the wheels of justice grind exceedingly slow but exceedingly fine) I intend to recover the stolen property and make sure that the evil is reflected back to this 'gangsta' just what he's done to reinforce racism, and how he can express genuine remorse, make amends, and shun the gangsta justifications he's used for his thievery. I have little hope but it has to be done; living by the Golden Rule, he was given a chance to do this without pressing charges, but his reaction was to lash out and threaten murder, so now he's facing a felony theft charge, among other charges. Yet outside of his thievery, he's just a happy-go-lucky friendly fellow and would be portrayed as such if he winds up dead.....but evil is banal, and rarely stops to think of how such simple violations as he made incite hateful rage that goes on to judge all like him as similarly evil.

I paused for a moment and thought about how many travails Job had to endure, and in this effort to help another, coming down the East Coast, I have had to endure first one thief who saw "precious" and stole, then a blow-out on the highway costing hundreds in repairs, then the stark fact that prescription drugs [painkillers, specifically] are so tightly controlled by the gov't that it required expensive monthly commutes back north, then another roadside emergency resulting in the loss of my car (thankfully replaced by one far nicer, but which is still in the process of being earned), then having that car smashed into by an unwitting neighbor (thankfully his insurance is covering it), then having yet another "precious" stolen by yet another young black male thief (thus cementing the probability of a definite racist streak in me that I'll have to struggle to control), which necessitates a long legal process with law enforcement, and oh did I mention how the first moving company I contracted tried to abrogate the contract and thus lost the contract, but has kept my deposit which I now have to use the legal process to recover......these are the types of crises the "elite" need to learn from while still trying to maintain their humanity, which is ironic because I still consider myself a member of the 99%. Are these 1% lessons I need to learn in order to help the elitist bastards deal with the changed reality coming in the wake of the Announcement? Whatever they are, I'm darn certain I'm being tested in many ways this summer.

Ponder that. What would you do, how would you feel? I'm interested to hear what you have to say, just don't try to justify the thievery - plenty of black AND white people can be in the same position and not abuse the trust placed in them, taking advantage of this trust to violate the person who gave them a paying job. Culture does play a role, but when it comes down to it, everyone is responsible for their actions, and if they elect to not use the Golden Rule but instead selfishly exploit another, they're no better than rich white bankster gangsters and should be prosecuted in such a way as to eliminate the evil, not exacerbate it.



Friday, August 21, 2015

The Ongoing 2015 Summer of Spiritual Schooling: The Depmobile, Batmobile & A Possible Double Murder

This entire summer, which I expected to spend mostly watching and commenting on Jade Helm 15, has rocketed by since the week preceding Memorial Day with such a sense of urgency that it seems it only began a few days ago.  I haven't had time rush by so quickly, pulled along by events seemingly planned from elsewhere, in.....decades.  It began with an ever-expanding set of parables set to the old "Fortunately, but unfortunately" story; fortunately I got a call from the big city, a relative had passed away, and I needed transportation to Florida.  Fortunately I had rented a car before and could rent again, and confident I could do the same in the big city as I did in the small town, I left early for the city so I could spend time visiting with friends.  Unfortunately the car rental company in the big city played by a different set of rules, and so I was turned away.  Fortunately I still had my nice 2000 Taurus, though the corrosion underneath was dangerous and in fact was the reason I wasn't planning on using it.  So my friend, attempting to be helpful, used his nice new gleaming air compressor to helpfully add air to my tires, despite my objections that it wasn't needed. Not knowing the consequences, I allowed him to finish his helpfulness and continued packing. When it came time to go, he produced an iPhone that had belonged to a former tenant, one who had stiffed him for thousands of dollars. He hadn't even a charger, and had no idea what it would take, but wanted to get something for his loss.  I didn't have time to charge and leave it, but he saw that if I took it with me, I could charge it on my way south to Florida.

Finally on our way south, we stop for the night after massive traffic snarls, and I take the luggage in. Most of it, that is.  I left some key items in the car, including my medications and electronic accessories, which I then came back out for about 15 minutes later, after using the facilities.  Being parked in the very front of the [popular, mega-corporate chain] motel, under a street light, one would have thought a car would be safe from thieves, especially when it was also being surveilled by CCTV.  Had I returned to the car 10 seconds later, the look-out would have been able to alert the burglar and they would have absconded with everything in the car that wasn't in the trunk. Apparently this thief had used a 'slim jim' and had a long plastic garbage-can liner  he was getting ready to stuff things into, and in fact as I called out "hey! that's my car!  What the *)($%^$#* are you doing?!?" but being disabled and using a cane, I couldn't run like I used to in my prime, other-wise I would've shot at least one and possibly two unarmed black men that night and wouldn't have felt the slightest bit of remorse doing it.  This, too, is part of a reality that isn't allowed to be part of the current "Black Lives Matter" movement. In fact, the issue of black lives being needlessly snuffed out often overshadows sometimes how it is that people like George Zimmerman aren't all that removed from mainstream American mindsets.  While we could argue cultural factors that have helped create the situation, the reality is stark and simple: young black males are much more likely, and therefore much more suspiciously regarded, as being responsible for a lot of selfish behavior.  Any genuine effort at making police less likely to shoot unarmed black men to death must include an acknowledgement and a fresher policy towards handling this touchy race issue.

The police officer that responded to my call about the break-in turned out not to be a fascist ass, but a genuinely good-hearted detective that, upon first introducing himself to me, apologized to me on behalf of his fair city and what this impression might do to tarnish its good reputation.  He was hispanic, also.  And although I was hesitant at first to call the thief "African-american", I said "dark-complected". Which they were. But that would include hispanics, so I gave my best assessment that they were indeed light-skinned african-americans, a/k/a 'black males', armed with a slim jim and garbage bags.

As it turned out, the iPhone that had been given to me to 'resusitate' for sale to help recompense the stiffed landlord, was in turn taken from me and this was likely to put the negative energy from this 'seized' (i.e. official theft of a sort) device into the hands of a genuine juvenile delinquent, who - if found with it - will have to face more major consequences than if it was merely a standard electronic 'toy'.

While the thief had fled with my cable hub and attached cables (to 'connect' me to power and the internet), he dropped them on the parking lot and there they sat as I waited for Officer Israel X.  The hotel forgave us our $100 tab for the room that night.  These matters, and how struck I was by my timing in arriving on the scene at the very moment it happened, make me pause to reflect.

The next day a rear tire, fairly new, too, blew out....due to the over-pumping of air.  How a nice gesture from a friend, attempting to help, could result in such a thing.....well, fortunately, I had just upgraded my AAA roadside assistance, so I got a free tow back to town.  And fortunately I arrived just as they were about to close the shop to new customers that day.Unfortunately, they couldn't put my car on the lift because of the rust and corrosion underneath. Fortunately, one older mechanic figured a way to use a set of jacks like acupuncture needles, and I was able to have them replace both rear tires. We finally escaped just as they were locking up.

As a result of having lost that time having to deal with the accident, our reservation at the motel we had reserved to stay at for the coming week while we settled the affairs of the deceased was jeopardized because we had a cut-off point of 3am the following day, after which we would lose our week's reservation.

We arrived at our destination with less than five minutes to go before we would have been locked out.

The entire summer has been like this.

The next critical moment came a few days later.  Being that we were going to have to stay "a bit longer" to handle things, I had to go to a local clinic for my [strictly controlled] pain medication. Unfortunately, fter leaving the clinic, less than a block away my car died.  The one with the two new rear tires.  Fortunately it had enough momentum I was able to let it coast into an empty parking lot. I called AAA, and again they rode to our rescue.  Unfortunately, they couldn't revive it on-site so it had to be towed to where we were staying.  Fortunately, we had spent the previous day securing the title to a luxury Mercedes Benz.  "Oh Lord, won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz", and He did!  Not one, but two!  One for each of us!  But only one for this visit; the title to the other was tied up in a forgotten lien, which is one of the next tests.  But when this occurred and the Taurus died, after it was towed the next day to a proper garage, they pronounced the fuel-pump dead and needed to be replaced.  Unfortunately, to do that in a Taurus, the gas tank has to be  dropped, and the rust and corrosion would prevent that, sadly.  The car was officially certified as being unredeemable, and I was given a paltry sum, which they increased by a factor of one tenth in consideration of two brand-new tires.

The Mercedes (it's now mine, though it had to go through more of a chase), is an awesome German-built machine, and while it's okay for we members of the 99% to delight in the ability to have such a fine car at our personal disposal, it should be noted that my ongoing Spiritual Tests have shown me how important it is to remind myself that these machines too are destined for destruction in the near future, but to care for them reverently while they're in our possession, just as we have to care for anything in our possession (my greatest tests have come from the tragedy of having lost the one thing most precious to us - a child).

The entire issue of dealing with pain has set my entire schedule for this summer, and necessitates my attending a monthly appointment that simply can't be transferred to a doctor in another state or even another clinic - period.  I am now on my third trip down to this state, with at least one more left to go, and to do this while also preparing for the likelihood that the entire peninsula will go under the waves soon has been testing my equanimity.

I won't go into the process of securing movers for the operation to relocate the contents of this property, but suffice to say it was illustrative, as well as giving me the opportunity to sort through a range of personalities, and learning then that the outfit we originally settled on was bamboozling us. Despite that, we did meet at least one good-hearted and honest individual as a result of having made that choice, and that led to further business relationships.

I even found time to go visit one of the Walmart Super-Centers - the one in Florida - that was closed in order to be converted to a processing center for the expected crush of fleeing refugees from the sinking of the Carribean islands.  I'll post some of the images; it's rather ghostly, but we're all so inured to these things now that - unless it bleeds - it won't resonate with any kind of panic.  So relax, but at the same time, know that the public hasn't been told the full truth about these matters.  Not yet, anyway.  I'll address the matter of the upcoming Announcement announcing the presence of Nibiru nearby in another post, but meanwhile, this is simply a story about typical summer adventures, and what would such a story be if there wasn't a car chase or murder?

Well, the new Depmobile got a rude reminder of just who fleeting these materialist matters really are when it was backed into by a neighbor, who proved his honesty by coming over with his insurance card at hand while I was engrossed with some workmen. Yes, I was shocked and felt a body blow at how my 'beautiful new car' had been hurt, but after spending an evening in torpor over the whole thing, I weighed what lessons I should be taking from the event, and the next day dropped it off for repair and was taken to the rental car agency to be processed for a replacement vehicle.

As it turns out, most insurance car replacements are the most inexpensive cars a branch has, and this is what I was initially destine for until a cutie-pie female customer overheard what had happened and asked the manager on my behalf if they had a vehicle "commensurate with a Mercedes, if not a Mercedes".  The manager did say the had  brand-new Mustang convertible, and while it wasn't quite "German engineering", it was "commensurate".  It then took everyone on their staff, along with myself, to arrange for me to leave in that car.  The spontaneous teamwork that erupted on my behalf was impressive to see in action, and I marveled at it while not feeling arrogant about it.

So; no car chase (unfortunately for the tale), but some banged-up vehicles in play.  It seems my Ruby Roadster, James Bond edition was to (temporarily) give way to the Batmobile, which now takes me to sensitive installations where I can view military preparations for what might turn out to be impending martial law, if we can't handle ourselves appropriately in the face of hearing the Announcement to be made by Tres Hombre Presidentes Plus Pope next month (or at some point in the remaining year of Obama's second presidential term.....with Mr Obama being the last occupant of the Offal Office).  If there is anything I will contribute to the public's awareness, it's to let them know that we truly do have nothing to fear but fear it's self.

And finally....the double homicide that apparently took place last night on my block, just a few doors down on the other side of the street.

Now, the sheriff's dept. could "neither confirm nor deny that any bodies were transported from the subdivision", nor could it even admit there even WAS an incident in my entire neighborhood, whatsoever!  Yet here I watched, from inside the house, as two heavy-duty diesel MRAP-style refrigerated ambulances pulled up and let their engines idle for over an hour as first one gurney was wheeled into one ambulance - with a sheet drawn completely over the body - and another gurney had someone on it being attended to by a gaggle of dark-suited medical and law enforcement personnel.   None of the police vehicles nor ambulances had any of their colored lights on - it was after 10pm - and the only noise that alerted me to the fact was the two diesel motors that sounded suspiciously like the huge moving vans I had just dealt with.

So WHAT HAPPENED you might well ask, and rightly so!  It's what I did when I first started calliing law enforcement organs, only to be told "don't worry, we've got the public's safety covered", but without telling me anything. Here's a clue: it has to do with what's breaking out all over Earth, what will divide people not by nationalism, not even by amount of wealth, not by religion, or language, or ethnicity; it will be between those who are good-hearted (who practice the Golden Rule), and those who exploit others.  And this was a case of exploitation; apparently a paedophile had nowhere else to go and came to stay with his elderly (early 90s) parents, one of whom called a neighbor and expressed fear for their lives as the paedophile son had threatened them with death unless they backed up his claim that he was living with them to be a caregiver and help them. Social services were called, months ago, and an interview took place, which took a rather long time, but apparently didn't prevent what ultimately happened.  The sex offender had molested two 14-year-old boys in 1993, and then fled, but the victims and their families didn't seem inclined to press charges so the state didn't pursue extradition.  Thus, by the time other offenses had brought the individual to the attention of local law enforcement - since he had returned to this town where his aging parents could support him - the statute of limitations had run out on the sex offenses.

Now, law enforcement won't admit to what happened, and since there are no other family members to do anything about it, the public will likely never be told the full story.  What can we make of this? One thing we can be sure of: if and when cataclysms result in massive numbers of the dead, they'll be placed in those 3-person plastic 'coffin liners' that can contain the dead flesh-suits and prevent as much contamination of the water table and airborne diseases, and that this will be accepted as nonchalantly as this neighborhood I'm temporily calling home while I tool up and down the East Coast in sports cars has accepted this unique and possible double-murder in their midst.










And a slightly-fascist looking Batmobile for my temporary use in hunting down selfish Cover-up artists and the liars and frauds they work for::





The following pictures are snapshots of the shuttered Walmart Super-Center in Brandon, Florida, where it's anticipated many refugees from the Carribean will be processed for placement in sparsely-populated rural areas of the US.  This is the American contribution to assisting our fellow humans that will be displaced by the earth cataclysms as the pending poleshift approaches.  For any complaining of this, consider this: India, along with most of its billion-plus population, is expected to vanish in a matter of mere minutes under the Himalayas as Earth turns over on its axis, completely changing the face of the globe - just as has happened in the past, roughly every 3,657 years.

This Walmart has its now-empty parking lots patrolled by police cruisers lurking and moving slowly around the vast expanses of asphalt.  Two tractor-trailers guard the center approach to the front entrance, parked off the actual asphalt and instead, they sit on the earth islands demarcating the parking lot.  What appears to be barbed wire, or concertina wire, rings the sidewalks running from the two main entrances.










Monday, May 18, 2015

Emotional Infidelity - An Autopsy

The "Sexodus"

In the wake of the reporting on this recent trend called the “Sexodus” – a sociological phenomenon in which a huge percentage of young men are seemingly giving up on marriage and commitment while retreating to electronic stimulation in lieu of the real thing, where idealized females don’t sue for alimony or even demand that a guy take the garbage out  –  this cautionary tale is mainly for the reader to better understand an under-reported phenomenon of the so-called gender wars:  the Other Man.

Too often our media is full of accounts of rapists (often connected with an accelerated rise in binge-drinking at frat parties), which rightly portray the harm caused by guys who are unable to control their libido while inebriated or drugged, so they take what they want and think they can avoid the consequences.  On a related note, ‘date rape’ has become common-place. We also have the stories of adulterous affairs, and these too usually portray the man as being the adulterer. Even then, they rarely attribute the philandering due to anything other than an uncontrollable libido, or as the buzzword of late has it, “sex addiction”. Often these stories are told by the ‘Other Woman’, who often portrays herself as the victim of an unfaithful husband making false representations to lure her into bed,  and sometimes promising to leave the wife and marry her instead.  Sometimes this is actually the case, but sometimes the craftiness is on the part of the female, who is seeking to acquire the man’s financial and intellectual capital to feather her own nest and provide for a brood awaiting in her own ovaries to spring forth.  And sometimes the story is told by the jilted wife, who may not be so concerned with the physical philandering but the emotional betrayal. To be sure, few of the practitioners would own up to such conniving.

Tales of 'Emotional Abuse'

One such example is that of a woman who I was recently told about, in advanced years and mother of three children in their thirties.  The husband and father had died though he had divorced the woman earlier, some say as a result of an affair though on whose part I wasn’t told.  In the past three years this woman had taken up with a wealthy widower who has been wooing her with gifts, topping it off with an expensive car costing somewhere in the neighborhood of $40,000.  And yet the woman has not – or so she confided – had any sexual encounters with her would-be lover.  Her grown children, when visiting, always call the man “Sugar Dad”, or “Sugar Daddy”, which is the one thing that really provokes him.  Recently a mutual friend, a female, asked this woman as she often does, “when are you going to stop using this man?!”  To which she replied “when the house is paid off”.  What a stunning admission, yet this was said as casually as if asked when a pie would finish baking.  After a pause while this sank in, the younger female then asked her if she had considered what the man would do if he was ever ditched by her, “having invested over six figures in you”.  Apparently the only response was a shrug of the shoulders, as if to say, “I don’t care”.  Unfortunately, I don’t think the answer would be too pleasant, as the suitor is still working beyond retirement age in order to maintain his health insurance plan.  And yet this woman scolds and chides her suitor in public, to which he responds meekly by all accounts. 


Myself, I think it’s a recipe for disaster, and I think there are more examples of this kind of cruel exploitation on the part of many women who have thrown pretext to the wind and have gotten into one variation or another of the gold-digger game in a big way.

(The following account may or may not fall in the same category, the reader can decide.)

The point is that usually these stories are usually told from the female perspective, rarely from a man’s point of view.  This may be a consequence of the male biological wiring that emphasizes sexual contact over emotional intimacy, so it appears that few men seem to be interested in the emotional overtones that tend to permeate ‘female porn’ and the reams of romance novels that girls tend to gravitate to, while their male counterparts are immersed in traditional pornography (this isn’t mere conjecture; a simple check of soon-to-be-obsolete book-stalls and magazine sellers will prove this point).  The rift between them has grown even wider in recent years with the advent of the internet becoming the primary method of communication and stimulation.

Anatomy of an Emotional Affair

Some years ago, a close friend – we’ll call him Brent – was contacted by email through his website, which was conspiracy-related and so attracted the attention of truth-seekers and, well, a few kooks and crazies as well, as the subject matter lends itself to those labels.  At the time, not being aware that there was such a thing, he responded to this one particular girl the same way he would respond to anyone seeking information.  (Other girls had also made contact this same way, some crazier and more flirtatious than others.)  After several replies, they gradually developed a daily habit of spending time on an instant-messenger service.  At the time, Brent had been living with a girl for a number of years, but their relationship had become stagnant, and he felt frustrated and distanced from his live-in girlfriend – we’ll call her Annette.  After some probing by his new friend – we’ll call her Valerie – he opened up and ventured a few questions about how he might be able to re-energize his relationship with Annette, as they had started to talk about other things in life than conspiracy.  A few days later, Valerie asked Brent for his phone number so she could phone him and they could talk more easily than having to type on Instant Messenger (IM). At first, they talked about the JFK and 9/11 conspiracies, traditional pillars of conspiracy-awareness, but Annette overheard them on the phone and asked Brent to take the conversation outside as she didn’t want to have to hear that “conspiracy sh*t”.  Thus, Brent found himself going to his car and talking on the phone to Valerie about all manner of things, and this went on until Valerie’s calling card from Canada ran out of minutes.  Brent was delighted in having a new friend to not only talk to about the Big Picture but also to get advice from about his love life. 

When I first heard from Brent about his new-found friend, I cautioned him about getting too enamored of her, but I could tell he was clearly much happier, and he told me excitedly about how this Valerie was more like his ‘dream girl’, and he really wished Annette would be more like her – at least to accept his passion for most things conspiratorial.  Things went on in this vein for several months, and Brent confided to me that he and Valerie had been flirting on IM and she had gotten him so worked up he was on the verge of masturbating with her (shhh!!) when Annette suddenly walked in on him and that put and end to that.  (Perhaps Annette had sensed this ‘other woman’ was intruding on her fiancĂ©, but as it turned out, she herself had been doing the same with a man in California, but instead of plain IM it was in the virtual world known as Second Life – where much of the interaction is overtly sexual.)

Soon afterwards, however, Valerie – while continuing to talk to Brent on IM – went off to question a number of debunkers about things astronomical, while Brent tried in vain to explain to her that the conspiracy forum he had introduced to her harbored many debunkers whose sole purpose was to cast ridicule on anything smacking of a pending pole-shift or Nibiru – which is the ultimate show-stopper among conspiracy [ahem] ‘theories’.  Apparently convinced by the debunkers, who are as well-schooled in using traditional science to debunk heretics as their forerunners in the Vatican were, Valerie and Brent drifted apart. Brent then re-focused his attention on Annette.

However, the next time I heard from Brent, he was moving out from the house he’d shared with Annette – she simply wanted him gone as she had had her fill of anything pertaining to “conspiracy”, and was planning on consummating the relationship she’d begun on the Second Life virtual-world website.  Meanwhile, Brent told me that Valerie had decided to go out West to see what might come of a renewed relationship with a “previous boyfriend”, as he had said he wanted to “give it another try”.  He, meanwhile, was truly heart-broken and devastated over Annette’s treachery and had seemed to have lost interest in Valerie as he was more concerned with moving out of the city and into a less-expensive rural area.  I helped Brent move and we spoke little of Valerie.

Some months later, Brent received an email from Valerie, forwarding an innocuous link someone had passed on to her.  As he later told me, Brent said he wrote her back and explained that although he found the news item(s) interesting, he really did not want to hear from her so long as she was still working on being with her old flame – we’ll call him Matt – because, as he put it precisely, “you’re my kind of dream girl and I’m very emotionally vulnerable right now because of what happened between Annette and I, and it would hurt too much to hear from you though I do wish you and Matt the best, I really do”.  He went on to make it quite plain that he didn’t want to hear from her so long as she was still with Matt.

As it turned out, he didn’t hear back from Valerie for several months, and thought no more of her, as he was still reeling from and dealing with Annette, who deserves her own story in all this of course.  But then, near the end of summer, he started receiving emails and IMs from Valerie again, and again she asked Brent for his phone number.  Brent complied, and then began months of the two of them spending practically every day on the phone together.  Brent told me later that it was over 921 hours from his phone log alone for 3-1/2 months, and this didn’t count the daily emails and IMs that Brent would also reply to from his phone, whenever he left the house and Valerie wanted to chat with him.

You might wonder what kind of content was in all those phone calls and emails and instant messages.  You also might be surprised to hear that there was very little “sexting” involved, as it appeared mathematics was Valerie’s latest interest, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t any sexual tension or emotional bonding going on, for buried in all the mathematics that Valerie liked to talk about were vignettes of her past relationships, her feelings of being betrayed by Matt – though curiously not due to anything that Matt DID, but more of what he apparently didn’t do (which was to provide a moment to properly ‘swoon’ in, as Brent later described it to me). 

Brent then told me a curious thing, something which has confounded me in all my research into the phenomenon:  her voice provoked an orgasmic reaction, one which startled him when it first became apparent but later proved almost embarrassing.  Eventually this became almost like an addiction, practically a narcotic.  After hanging up the phone with her, he usually had to relieve himself but this also made him even more miserable, as he refused to ‘touch himself’ while on the phone.  There was another curious development as a result of Valerie’s phone calls: he seemed to lose  interest in porn.  If he fantasized at all, it was simply looking at her picture and dreaming mostly chaste dreams, almost always devoid of sex.  It was unsettling to him, though he thought it marvelous.  Valerie herself would express irritation whenever he brought up this curious phenomenon, so he would only rarely make reference to ‘The Reaction’.  Still, it troubled him in that he seemed unable to show any interest in the women that were physically in his life.  Of course he wanted to see her, but it would be months before that could be arranged as she lived so far away, and in another country.

How to explain that?  After thoroughly researching the condition that Valerie had, and coming to a diagnosis of a psychological disorder that had an estimated prevalence of between .7% and 2.5% in the general population, depending on gender, age, and nationality, it appeared that one of the major factors her condition highlighted was an inability to feel comfortable in social situations, which lent itself to an increased use of electronic media to interact with socially.  Brent recalled how – during the early months of their first interactions – she once remarked how nice it would be to simply just chat all day on IM with each other.  This struck him as odd because such a method is only prelude to the ‘real thing’, but this was before he became aware of her disorder.  Essentially, her condition  made for a more alluring and magnetic ‘voice’ that tended to carry more subconscious information in it, much like a blind person uses his ears and the aural environment to help guide him through any physical obstacles while moving.  (For those that are interested, there’s a phenomenon related to clairvoyance called clairaudience, and it appeared Brent was clairaudient; essentially, he could pick up emotional data that was being transmitted with a voice, which is simply a magnified version of what anyone can tell by the sound of a voice.)  While this plays a pivotal role in our particular story, the same type of story could probably be told without it.

In any event, as the holidays approached, Valerie mentioned to Brent that her official boyfriend Matt – who had gone back out to western Canada to live with his mother while awaiting a medical procedure – would be coming back East to spend them with her.  Brent told me later how shocked he was to hear this, as he understood Matt’s ‘betrayal’ to be of such a magnitude that he asked her ‘then why would you be having him back??’.  She told Brent she couldn’t very well ask him not to come, as it was so close to Christmas anyway and that would be “cruel”. 

He told Valerie that he felt like “chopped liver” and that what she needed was a “gay male friend” that she could talk to but wouldn’t be in danger of getting emotionally involved with, and she replied that ‘no, I don’t want some gay guy, I want that male energy from a man that’s interested in me’.  Not long after that she told him over the phone that she had not yet decided on who she wanted to be with, Matt or himself [Brent], and at the time Brent had little idea how little independence she really had, or chose not to have.  In fact, a few days later Valerie kept him on the phone while she cleaned the apt. she had shared with Matt earlier in the year and the one he would be coming back to.  Brent told me later how anxious he felt for her sake as she had stopped vacuuming after the first couple of hours of talking to him all the while her father and brother went to the airport to pick up Matt; they were only minutes away from arriving when she finally finished talking and got off the phone. 

Brent told me later that he had admitted to Valerie that during that last long phone call, it was like she had kept him on the phone long enough “to make sure I belonged to her”.

That was another curious part of the relationship, particularly as Brent has been pretty talkative himself for most of the time I’ve known him.  To hear how he would sit listening intently to Valerie for 8, 9, even up to 12 hours in some cases positively floored me.  He sheepishly admitted to me that he’d volunteered to Valerie that she had him “wrapped around her little finger” and all he wanted to do was please her.  It was a bad omen, as his other friends along with myself tried to get him to see that the relationship was not headed for a happy ending, especially after she had to stop calling while Matt was in the apt. for the holidays.  Most of us thought she was using Brent, that she was “taking the icing off of someone else’s cake because there wasn’t enough on her own piece”.  We pointed out to him that Valerie had told him she wasn’t concerned about “the physical stuff”, as in, she didn’t mind him sleeping with other girls, even his ex, Annette. Brent even confided in me that he wasn’t even interested in sleeping with anyone, other than dreaming of being with Valerie.  

However, shortly after New Year’s, Brent told me that she called him when she was supposed to have gone to work.  Apparently since she knew she was going to be late, and Matt out of the apt. for the day as a result, she called and they spent the day together on the phone much as they had before the holidays.  And then, after a couple of weeks, Matt apparently decided to stay and look for a job, so Valerie started spending more time on instant-messenger with Brent.  They even devised a code to use for when Matt might happen to be walking past her on the computer while they were chatting.  Valerie said that as far as Matt knew, ‘we only talk about math’ when on IM. 

Brent found a GIF image of a fish flopping about on a fishing line after having been caught.  He used it every time he felt Valerie was “toying” with his emotions; as he pointed out, every sentence coming from her was half encouraging, and half discouraging.  I asked him, “does she ever use the word ‘but’?  I bet she doesn’t!”  Brent said, “how’d you know??” I said, “there’s your clue that she knows that using that word might turn every missive from her into a ‘Dear John’ letter, but she doesn’t use it because she doesn’t want to lose you while at the same time, she has to keep you at arm’s length because she has no intention of leaving Matt for you”. Brent got angry at the thought and wouldn’t talk to me for days, probably because he knew I was right and didn’t want to admit it even to himself.

“She’s the only one that’s ever induced in me the desire to submit to her will, and to be happy doing it while knowing it would make me miserable”, he said later when we were speaking again. “Except when it comes to the one thing in my life that had the most impact on me prior to meeting her; she never seemed to accept that for what it was.  And maybe that’s why she won’t even bother talking to me, even to give me an official ‘Dear John’ letter.”

“It’s that damn siren song of her child-like voice”, he added.  “That and the fact she suffers so much from this disorder that she can’t even walk down the street and see her own reflection in the windows of cars on the street. It makes my heart bleed for her.” Apparently his heart continued to bleed for the next 2 years, though they did meet at Niagara Falls and spent the day together.  Matt went back out West, but then returned for the Christmas holidays next year too.  Brent, having spent so much time studying her condition, concluded that one thing that might help her was to get her to take pictures, so she could learn how to be less harshly critical of her own perspective by making an effort to take ‘nice’ pictures.  So he sent her a camera.  He wasn’t sure how she might take it, but she was quite enthusiastic about the idea and encouraged him to send it.  He was reluctant to at first, and even tried to arrange to send it to a different address, but she insisted on having him send it to her at the apt. because, as she put it, “I always get the mail anyway”.  Well, as it turned out, she didn’t get the mail the day it arrived, and when Matt got it he wondered aloud why Brent had sent such a nice gift to someone that was supposedly only a ‘friend’ that Val talked about math with.  It even had a Carl Zeiss lens on it, which impressed him, but Valerie had no idea about cameras as it turned out, and it was probably this one thing that finally helped him to understand his plight better.

The one thing that Brent had gotten her to promise to do was to take at least one picture with it and email it to him, to let him know that at least it worked.  Brent had taken pains to make sure all the cords were in the box, the battery charger, even a case for it.  He even joked that – since Valerie often hated her own image and was not inclined to take pictures of herself – that she could just take a picture of the wastebasket or a garbage can, if she couldn’t bear to take a selfie.  She promised she would, but as the days and weeks wore on and she didn’t send a single picture, it started to upset him.  After all, he reasoned, it wasn’t much to ask of someone when they encouraged you to send them such a nice gift.  Valerie tried to say it was due to her condition, but this is when Brent starting seriously consider that she was using her condition as a blanket excuse for not doing things.  After voicing his concerns yet again, Valerie then sent a slew of pictures with the caption “oh ye of little faith”, but as she was soon surprised to learn, she couldn’t pull that one over Brent’s eyes as he had learned from me early on how to determine the date, location, and camera used from a picture.  Brent used that information to determine the camera used was NOT the one he had sent, and the pictures were from that first holiday season of the “love triangle”, when the pictures that were taken were primarily of the furniture in the apt. Valerie’s mother had lived in before passing away the year before, when Brent and Valerie had first fallen out of touch.  There were even a few of Valerie herself.  However, Brent was upset that Val had lied to him, and still could not understand why she couldn’t even bring herself to use the camera he had sent.

I tried to explain to him that there were two probable reasons for this.  One, Matt – having intercepted the gift – may have kept the camera for himself and Valerie would have been relieved not to have gotten in more trouble with him for having lied about it, or he might have broken it intentionally, as its presence might have been troubling to him.  Two, and most likely, Valerie had probably buried it in the bottom of a drawer or at the back of a closet in the hopes of hiding physical proof of her duplicity, especially since she knew she had been misrepresenting the truth to both men.  To this day the camera seems all but forgotten except in this cautionary tale; some ‘Other Men’ aren’t so lucky, as they get taken to the cleaners and back by unscrupulous women.

I said, “Brent, remember that old adage, ‘It’s better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all’?  Well, they were on to something, because even though you allowed someone to get under your skin like that, and remember the person usually wants to get under it, it’s the outpouring of love on your part that’s more important than the other person’s rejection in the end.  Typically we punish ourselves for having failed in some way, when in actual fact, that’s not the case.  Of course there may have been something that triggered the falling out, but ultimately if there’s no love there on the other side it’s no use continuing to waste giving it on your end.  It’s true we usually think that if we only try harder, we can achieve that state of mutual happiness, but if the other person makes no effort, shows little motivation to change their circumstances (such as having the courage to tell Matt she wasn’t happy being with him but didn’t feel she could leave him because she would feel guilty after all he had done for her) they’re the loser in all this, particularly if they had no feelings at the outset.  They just wanted to receive the benefits of someone understanding them, someone who had passionate feelings for them.  This might explain why this girl Valerie won’t give you any closure – as far as she’s concerned, you’re but a plate of chopped liver that’s irritating her once you’ve called her out.  She may not even be aware of this fact, either. And remember, you did call her out by pointing out the fact she had previously used another boy for the emotional experience of being seduced when the truth was she had no intentions of consummating the seduction.”

(That was a reference to a story Valerie had told Brent about an incident that happened while she was at university, when she had allowed a boy to take her back to his place and let him seduce her ‘for the experience’, not because she had any intention of allowing the seduction to be consummated – to the contrary, though due to the threat of physical violence she ended up giving in to his demands.)

“Claims of ‘date rape’ to the contrary”, I continued, “a girl who knowingly allows a guy to believe in a lie is different from a situation in which the girl is genuinely unsure and may or may not respond to the seduction, but I know you enough to sense you parsed the situation out carefully when you stepped through the scene she described as you asked her questions.  You know many girls will tell you what they want you to hear, and it’s up to you to figure out what the ‘other side’ would be, even if you love the girl.  You probably should’ve kept your mouth shut, but since you found yourself in the same place, it’s no surprise you reflected it back to her.  Had you been her only suitor, given a fair chance, that’s one thing, but it was known to you both that she had an “official” boyfriend who she was essentially cheating on emotionally with you.  Even though you don't want to admit this to yourself, I think you got her number right in the beginning when you said you felt like she was coming to you for the “icing on the cake” that she hadn’t gotten on her first piece, but wasn’t interested in the cake as she already had a piece ‘thank you very much anyway’.  Brent, the fact is you – like so many of us – were hungry for a loving relationship and she made you feel special enough with her attention that your feelings overflowed.  It’s only natural.  The problem is, as you know, you weren’t given that 'fair chance' yet you opened up as if you had been; think back on what she told you when she kept you on the phone all those hours with her father and brother going to pick up Matt at the airport – when you asked how she could do that, she said she “couldn’t very well tell him no” to coming to spend the holidays with her.  Meanwhile, where did that leave you?  Did she think so much of her own needs that she didn’t want you to take the opportunity to meet someone else?  What happened to that girl outside Detroit, that Danielle girl that wanted you to come visit her?  You passed on her because you couldn’t say no to Valerie’s phone calls, and Valerie never asked if it was okay to keep you on the phone with her.  Stand up for yourself, man!  You might be with someone who wants you for YOUR sake if you had only stood up to Valerie and given her a straight-up choice, because if you were in that other guy’s shoes, you certainly wouldn’t want your girlfriend establishing an emotional bond that went beyond what she had with you, would you?”

“I know, Don, but I couldn’t help it by then. She had me hooked, line and sinker, and she secured my emotional loyalty by crying constantly that no-one truly understood her situation, her feelings of being 'split', of needing to feel 27 all over again because she had missed out, or truly cared enough about her”, said Brent.  “She even told me that she had ‘accidentally’ emailed Matt a reply that she had intended for me, and this is how Matt found out that we'd been writing – even though I knew that was a crock, because as everyone knows an email would have to be copied or forwarded to a specific third party.  She WANTED him to know we had been corresponding, maybe to let him know that he was losing her and simply wanted him to get jealous enough to stop being angry with her all the time and instead act more passionate and accepting with her.  Either way, it opened up an ugly wound and I ended up writing to her father and telling him of my true feelings, and warned that she needed to see a psychologist for a proper diagnosis and therapeutic care.  She dangled my email to Matt as if to say ‘see, Brent knows what I’m suffering from! You should listen to him about it, but disregard all that love-stuff he says’,” Brent said.  "Talk about wearing your heart on your sleeve. She didn't seem to care at all about the fact I even HAD feelings for her, feelings she had knowingly encouraged in me. Made me feel like chopped liver all over again."

I said, “if I’m not mistaken, didn’t you guys have a code worked out, so that when he passed by her computer he wouldn’t see what you two were saying to each other?”

“Yeah,” said Brent; “we spent more thought-time together than she did with him, apparently because he didn't like listening to her all that much, even while they were living in the same apartment”.  I replied, “But what did you get from that? Just the opportunity to feel for and care about someone other than yourself.  You two conspired together in keeping your communications secret from Matt and this made you feel special enough, probably. But did she even want to be with you?  Did she even ask you any questions about your own life, other than the dutiful 'how was your day'? Apparently not.  You may have joked about talking of her favorite subject, which was herself, but judging from where I'm sitting, that's not all that funny though it's true enough. From her perspective, you should probably feel lucky enough to be allowed to love her from afar”, I laughed. “If you keep on like this, you’re going to drive yourself into a deep depression.  There was no ‘there’ there for you, Brent.  You need to get over that.  Remember that camera you gave her?  You told me how it came up in conversation, she encouraged you to send it to her, and you did.  All you asked was for a picture taken with it.  She protested that she could barely look in the mirror, let alone the camera.  Had she told you that before you sent it?  No, and you did ask.  That’s because she just wanted to exert control over you, get you to do her bidding, let you do the kind of things for her she felt Matt wasn’t doing. You said you’d even settle for a picture of a wastebasket, a trashcan.  Anything.  But instead, the boyfriend happened to get the mail that day and was curious as to why you were so generous as to send her a camera. Did she tell him the truth?  No, because she didn’t want to lose him. Or admit that she had led you on.  And once he had intercepted the gift, she couldn’t bear to even touch it. When you pressed her for a picture, which was a reasonable request, she tried to pass off a bunch of pictures taken with HIS camera a year earlier but didn’t realize that you could figure what particular camera they came from.  Did you think she wouldn’t lie to you Brent?  She couldn’t bring herself to so much as look at the camera after that, as it was proof of her duplicity in encouraging you to send it, then making it look like you were “muscling in on” his girl.  Was that fair to you?  No, so you need to get a grip on yourself and chalk this up to experience, to yet another encounter with a tragically misguided soul, one who has isn’t concerned in the least with your own feelings.”

"Furthermore, think of that condition she suffers from.....she often can't bear to face herself, to see her reflection.  Think of that! She simply cannot face herself!  Can't you see that she probably has done something that she's so ashamed of, maybe when she was so very young that an authority figure who may have abused her made her feel that it was all her fault, it was all due to her desire, or maybe it was during a past life that she did something so shameful that she's carrying around some deep emotional baggage she's simply unwilling to face and her reaction to seeing her reflection is shouting out this fact to anyone who cares enough to listen."

“So,” Brent said, “are you saying that it isn’t good enough to simply love someone, to have someone to love?  If I demanded love in return, before I’ve had the chance to properly demonstrate my love to her, well that wouldn’t be true love, would it?  Funny how she actually suggested that a few times to me,” he added.

I retorted, “She said that because she wanted you to feel guilty for even wanting love in return from her, as I gather from what you’ve told me that one of her big problems with Matt was his insistence that she return his feelings, or at least make an attempt to do so. She didn’t want the same problem with you that she had from him, and from everything I’ve heard from you say about Valerie, it seems you're dealing with someone who is extremely narcissistic.  Narcissists like that never really love anyone other than themselves, but they recognize when someone else loves them and, to the degree they can, will keep those people in their orbit as long as they show proper adulation and attention.”

“That's okay,” insisted Brent.  “I don’t mind, but what I do mind is not being allowed a proper chance to prove myself.”  “Don’t you get it yet, Brent?” I said; “that’s never going to happen.  If he leaves her, don’t think you’ll be happy to take his place; on the contrary, you’ll be the one she’ll cheat on emotionally next, because even you – as much as you think you won’t mind being miserable if only she’ll talk to you – won’t be able to give her as much as she needs.  She needs as much as she can get, not just one person, but as many as possible, particularly guys - and that's mainly due to how most women seem so week and deferential, and there's always a bit of conquest involved when a debate is between genders.  It seems your little Valerie is to conspiracy-theorists what groupies are to rock-stars, but now she wanted to be more than just a groupie, she wants to be a rock-star herself and have her own male groupies.” Brent said, “oh, I knew that already, I joked to her that she always seems to be collecting acolytes”.  I said “so you think that’s funny, eh? Maybe when you realize that a girl like that can’t be happy with someone who holds a different opinion than her, or who won’t allow themselves to have their opinions molded by her, you’ll change your tune.”  

Brent said, “but I WANTED her to mold me to her ways, her thoughts; I think it’s a most beautiful thing to give a girl, to allow them control.”  “Think again, buddy”, I said.  “It may be arousing to you, but that’s because you’re so hungry for someone with a high IQ to want you that you’ll put up with anything, but trust me on this”, I said.  “She may need a lackey, but unless she thinks she’s won one through a lot of hard work, she won’t respect one.  If you go down that route, you have to re-learn how to play those games like we all did back in junior high-school. Worse, after you allow her to put a leash on you, she still isn’t likely to respect you.  It’s better you stand up for your own principles, and stand by them, too. Especially if you truly want to help her.” 

“Good grief!” Brent said.  “You make it sound like she’ll only be happy when she’s screaming bloody murder, and only able to have an orgasm after a big fight!  I can’t believe it!”  “Believe it”, I said.  “There are indeed women out there like that, just like there are guys out there that will commit date-rape or slap their wife around, all the while looking the part of the injured, innocent lamb.  You act like you believe that fairy tale about how girls are made out of ‘sugar and spice and everything nice’.  Some are, and worthy of being your goddess if that’s mutually agreed to, but others are more like the wicked witches of the land of Oz, and you have to learn how to spot them before you let them under your skin unawares. Like all of us, they're simply poor lost souls trying to have an impact on their world, to be heard and paid attention to, even if they use surreptitious methods to get the attention they crave."

“Furthermore”, I went on, “while I’ve heard you say that Valerie told you that Matt had complained about you ‘muscling in on his girl’, we both know that you had done no such thing and had in fact respected him at the outset when you kindly asked her not to write to you so long as she was in a relationship with him.  Remind yourself that it was not you that approached her but the reverse; it was you who took her calls at her instruction to call her back when she rang your phone with two rings.  Remind yourself that 90% of the conversation was her talking to YOU.  If anything, Matt wasn’t taking enough care of her to keep her from preying on other guys emotionally; maybe you should ask HIM to tell her to give you closure.”

Well, the ‘affair’, such as it was, lasted about 2 years after that summer of 2011 when the long phone calls began.  Sometime in the spring of 2013 Brent finally ‘stood up’, and that day he refused to take Valerie’s calls.  Maybe it was this that pushed her all the harder to try to reach him, and when he finally did answer, she said that she was finally ready to come visit, to be with him.  Brent told me later that he did insist to her that if this was true, that she give him an “honest opportunity”.  Valerie then said, “oh so I have to ‘be’ with you, is that it?  I have to be your girlfriend?”  Brent said “no, it’s not that you have to be, but you have to at least give me an honest chance to become a boyfriend, and not based on a lie. That means maybe yes, and maybe no.  And that’s the only way it will work because otherwise, it’s not fair.  Either to me or to Matt.”

Soon after that, on another phone call, when Brent asked her when she would be coming to visit, she started a long dissertation that spoke sorrowfully about Matt, how she had been so faithful (Brent interrupted her with ‘whoa! You’re not being faithful either to him or to yourself by suggesting that just because you won’t allow another man’s penis inside you you’re somehow being ‘faithful’!! If I were in his shoes and knew this was going on, I most certainly wouldn’t think you were being faithful!!’), and how he had sent her money on all those occasions in the past when she needed it, and this wasn’t fair to him, and other plaintive sadnesses that had her on the verge of tears, and him too.  I said “Brent, tell me you called her out for slowly ripping your own heart apart as she made the case for going back on her word!” Brent said that he couldn’t recall what all he had said – other than to insist to her that she was certainly NOT being faithful by talking like that.

Finally, a few weeks later, Valerie had started to admonish Brent for his beliefs, for thinking and talking the way he did, and though at first he was civil and even teasing in responding to her, she kept at it and finally Brent exploded.  As he explained it, he felt that she had been slowly attacking him, and not only couldn’t respect his own beliefs, she never thought enough to even ask him about his own experiences and why he believed as he did.  As Brent told me later, he said some cutting things about people with “small minds”, though it was always in the third person and not her in particular, and continued on in that vein until he had vented enough about being attacked, and apparently that was the end as far as Valerie was concerned.  She wrote him back and said that she wanted him to stop writing to her, “before you make me hate you”, as she put it.  Brent thought that was rich, as he was always the one who was expected to be there for her phone calls, and even emails and instant messages.  He did ask why, as they had had similar arguments before, but she would only say “like you always say, the heart has a logic all its own”.  She refused to give any reason, other than to say she had been “confused”, and said she was blocking him from emailing her thereafter (she had done that the year before, causing him to set up a new email account), and then said that because she did not want him phoning her either, would allow him to send messages to her youtube inbox.

And that was it.

At first Brent felt much the same way about her as she about him, as he was still angry for her having attacked him “out of the blue”, as he told it.  He’d done nothing wrong, as far as he was concerned; in fact, he was the one who had put up with her phone calls and having her string him along, had studied her condition, had phoned dozens of therapists and counselors, plastic surgeons, psychiatrists and other specialists on her behalf, had researched moving to be closer to her, had sent her gifts and all the little things people in ‘electronic affairs’ do, but felt it had all been for nothing.

However, in the months since, he found he couldn’t keep his mind off of Valerie.  He thought of her every day, even as he started dating local girls, and even developed another ‘electronic relationship’, but nothing seemed to make him happy.  He’d find himself deep in thought when with other girls, and even made the mistake of calling a couple of them by her name.  On the rare occasion he did speak of her to another female, they would either show jealousy, contempt, or even anger.  Some of his female friends were compassionate, one called herself and his other female friends his 'Valerie doctors', but most told him that he was much better off without Valerie in his life, and could find someone who at least showed some interest in his own thoughts and feelings.  I told him the same thing, but I knew the pain and knew he wouldn’t respond to logic so I told him that if he had hopes of ever moving on and making a clean break of it, he should write to Valerie and ask for the closure he didn't feel he had been given. 

“You need some form of closure”, I told him.  “You’re wasting yourself over some girl that could care less if you live or die, and your heart needs to see the proof of how cold and removed she really is”, I said.  “I think that if your heart sees the text on the screen, or hears her voice tell you the reason Why, tells you what the logic of her heart was when she wrote that final line that she was “confused”, then maybe you will have some peace and can move on to love someone that’s worthy of your love.”   

Brent told me that he had written on occasion to her YouTube inbox, telling her he still loved her, sometimes sharing a link or two, though she had only responded once – to his Merry Christmas message that 2013 holiday season in which he had said he was sorry for having failed her, also that he was sorry that “[we] failed each other”, to which he got the curt reply “merry christmas”, but despite writing to a mutual friend out of concern that she was okay (she was, and “doing fine”), she still to this day has not given him any closure.  To hear Brent tell it, he even sent several messages with “multiple choice” options, he even begged her to be as “blunt as necessary” to give him closure, but no.  Not even a 'Dear John' letter. Nothing doing.  It’s as if their emotional connection never happened, as if they never met. Brent recalled over and over one phone call when Valerie had broken down into tears, her voice breaking in huge sobs as she described how people she knew previously would cut off their friendship with her time after time......and as he described it to me later, "I tried to reflect that moment back to her, to remind her that it was by her choice to cut off so abruptly, so cruelly, and I wonder how she sleeps at night doing the same thing to others that she complains people do to her?  Don, it's beyond hypocrisy, but I don't buy that it's to be excused because of her condition.  Am I wrong?"

I finally said "now you're getting it.  No, you're not wrong to think that, but we can never judge what someone else does even if it hurts us. Just keep reminding yourself of that phone call, so that your natural inclination to love isn't blinding you to reality.  Also, remind yourself of how close this person was to what you expect in a girl, but go out and find it in someone who you can truly respect, who will respect you.  Establish boundaries early on and stick to them.  It'll be hard, but that's my prescription."

So I leave it to you, dear reader. Did Brent in fact fail Valerie?  Did she fail him?  Did she merely use him, and if so, how can one tell? Is it wrong to expect “closure” in this day and age?  Is it okay to use others emotionally, that it’s their own fault if they get used for that "male energy" (or "female energy") and emotionally abused like that, especially if a person warns before-hand they're "emotionally vulnerable"? What about if they don't say anything?  Is it wrong to get upset, is it wrong to insist on some form of final ‘closure’ after the moments of anger have passed in an emotional affair, or do feelings just evaporate after an argument?  Or is the problem simply a case of Cupid falling down on the job, as it were?  Or maybe a case of rose-colored glasses, due to such a lack of love and compassion in the world that 'anything goes, as long as you can get away with it, do what thou wilt'?


 What are your thoughts?