mickflorida---chapter---015

THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
CHAPTER 15---DATFILE WORLD LABS SEND-BACK-TEXT:
C015—053010.577—BJWSC—02
MY INTERACTIONS WITH THE (MILLIONTH-COUNCIL) HERE IN FLORIDA
Beginning Transmission:


This will B a story of recent bull shit, and of course, nothing that happens 2 me is unattached 2 all of the events in and of my fantastic and quite ugly past. Perhaps, in lesser degrees of this same truth, U all can B in the same situation with this, but I am not in a position of making this value judgment, this would B the private business of all of U out here reading THE BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN, that may then choose 2 make this query inside of their self and come 2 their own unique and individualized conclusions.

First, I began half a dozen blogs or so back, discussing a series of 3 interactions or (dreaming), the first being in December of 1969 with the chain being taken from my apartment bedroom closet as a youth, locked tightly and safely away in a strong box, as well as my dealings with SSJK on the beach first when she was age 10, and then in the same ‘dreaming’ and this time nearby the beach at her shop on 10-SC Avenue, in Atlantic City, New Jersey, USAESMWG, and the TRINITRAIL all over the Westmont and Haddonfield skies and all over the basic area of Camden County, New Jersey, that morning when I awoke from this ‘experience’, as many other UFO club members, all have their experiences as well. I am by no means totally unique or ‘suigenares’ here. Spell checker will not recognize this word and provide me with its correct spelling, I know it is misspelled peeps, thank U. The second interaction or dreaming, your choice after reading years of MOUNTAINPEN, 2 decide which word fits better, and U all know exactly YI choose the word interaction over the word of dream and dreams and dreaming, but again, and as with Michelle Daniels, U all R of course always “ENTITLED 2 YOUR OPINION”, and no, some fuck up prevented this from coming out on a recent prior blogging work, and it seemed as though I do not know how 2 speak, and this of course is the hackers ‘plot and intentions’, ‘U quintessential devils’, Kirk and the Humpbacks as well, all notwithstanding. As 4 the second dream, a prior blog forgot after I listed this, 2 finish the point being made, and the great 3rd dream of the “TOTAL DESTRUCTION OF HADDONFIELD” NEVER WAS DISCUSSED!!!!!! Gee I wonder who what and Y this was ETTOS hacked and done 2 me by the mighty powerful evil third of the ASTRAL-PLANE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL, known by few waking-world-mortals ever on this planet as the Lambrigger Cult. These entities R the Lamist Cult of the Briggbase, and the slang term 4 them, or really one of the slang’s is the word combo of BRIGGER, also they R thought of as the SHADOW MONSTERS, as they stand about just under 7 feet tall on average, look like giant thin shadows of peeps on the greatest diet ever written, R faceless, jet black, and look basically a lot like they do on the great Demi Moore 1990 movie, “GHOST”, only they gave them the miniature appearance, they did not want 2 endanger the movie making process by exposing the more accurate physically appearing descriptions of these real honest entities or BRIGGERS. I cannot believe a monster queen and highly talented actress such as my luscious Demi is not spell-checker recognized, YO. Anyway, dream or interaction number 2 was then the series of 3 or 4 recurring dreams that literally continued in a story pattern, called serial dreaming by dream books 4 the very obvious reason that just as in your fave serial television soap shows, it indeed is in broken up daily series’ and the plots and interactions of the show R in a moving story order. This keeps the Terry Eggheads next door 2 the Tilley family quite happy, right Donald Smiley? This 2nd serial recurring dream-interaction was about a group of 10 or peeps give or take, none of which I knew in waking world reality, that much I’m positive about, at least at the time of the ‘dreaming’. These horrific peeps dissected me, turned my lungs into washcloths after removing them from my body, and seemed 2 do all manner of other medically related things 2 me, this is a BLUEBOOK STORY all though closed and marked BULLSHIT, 2 all of those such as mi-self, who know how real SOMETHING ‘really’ is that is happening 2 us, will never allow a single soul 2 ever successfully talk us out of what we know and believe 2B totally true, real, and absolutely accurate. 2 all of us experiencing this shit, it is more real than our most powerful romantic encounters, being in a terrible car crash, getting into a fist fight with an entire biker gang, or any major so-called waking world event. There still is much more 2 someday talk about regarding this very early July of 1970 experience, while alone and living at child molester and semi-Faggot Tom Reale’s home on Cornwall Avenue, in Ventnor, New Jersey, the town just neighboring Atlantic City, 2 the south. If none of the things were real, or I am just making it all up, peeps, come on, get real, with or without the (E), don’t U think somebody would have tried 2 sue me by now? They know I accuse them rightfully, and that my counter lawsuit would forever ruin these mighty family reputations, 2 say nothing of wiping out their financial empires, as many things that these pricks of done 2 me have literally wiped out my entire life since about age 12-15, and all of this entire ugly mess has all been an ongoing rotten wicked deal 4 nearly a full half century now, and I would own them all, lock, stock, crock, sock, bonds, and barrels, YO, and THEY know it, BRAHHH!!!!!! Now 4 the 3rd dream, that THEY WILL NOT ETTOS me out of telling U about, it was touched on B4 on long-ago-prior blogging works, but here is a lot more about it, not that it hopes 2 come close 2 telling it all, I am saving the full details of many things 4 much more strategic times where I am not this down and out and low and powerless and with my enemies this strong and determined 2 spill my blood, covertly of course, but spell just the freaking same. I typed recently that this interaction was experienced by me in the autumn of 1971, but that was another PBHE, or BPS puck up. It was only a couple of months or so after the summer of 1970 and the stay with Thomas J. Reale was in the history books, and here is the basic part of it. I went 2 bed after reading completing a homework assignment, Mister Smith my teacher had asked me 2 read a very weird book and give me my impressions and opinions of it, U all know, do a book report on it. It was a disgusting book, I was not a normal teenager, and did not like dirty sex, 2 me, and this still applies, sex outside the sanctity of marriage is purely evil. I am not even religious, not the way U all that say that UR so, would think of it as. Still, I understand the vacuum reality, remove good and morale things from a society that basically the religions of this planet teach; the society always begins 2 crumble and fall. Now SSJK taking the credit 4 this as HER doing this 2 us 4 breaking her commands, that is a very lengthy drawn out argument, all truth has falsehoods within them at some point, all falsehoods also likewise contains at least some small seedlings of truth. If anything ever could B totally all white or all black, the scientists themselves theorize this on a material scale would turn all the mass into energy in a catastrophic explosion, wiping out humanity, and most likely the entire expansion, by our idea of a wipe out, simply, things would B all energy again, and in need of new Lawtronic Dream-Downs from the Astral Plane, 2 get things all going again, but the complexities involved here make my trying 2 further elucidate this topic and point any further, totally and completely futile. Getting back 2 my point, it was a night of my going 2 bed and 2 sleep, not all that different from any other night. I am guessing it was in the time circa of middle October in 1970, and no later, a few weeks earlier in the first weeks of 1970’s autumn as a point of earliest possibility. Anyway, I was out of school in this ‘experience’ dream-interaction-whatever, and suddenly was in the center of downtown Haddonfield, New Jersey perhaps a half mile or so south of the school area where both the Haddonfield High School as well as the special education school next 2 it, shared an area of property near some woods called the Pennypack Park, where the mighty Sarah Jacobson announced both in (dreams and real life) that “she does not kiss boys”. Whether or not Her father was a doctor or even related 2 the famous KENNEDY-DOCTOR, sharing HER name, is not totally fully researched out as of yet by me, forgive me, time is precious 2 me, I need 2 use it wisely as things R very totally pucked up around me right now, as if U have not guessed this from reading these blogs. Anyway, suddenly bombs were falling from the skies, and not from airplanes; just from the gods only know where. I do not remember one single airplane in the entire interaction. Then fire was suddenly everywhere, and the entire town of historic Haddonfield, New Jersey was utterly and totally destroyed, waking me up from this nightmare experience with such a jolt, not jot, when I meant 2 type and typo in the word JOB, but anyway, with such a jolt that my neck was hurting me all day long and even a little bit over a few days 2 come. Imagine seeing the entire town bombed and burned where your school is located, when UR but a youth of age 15 and three quarters, this was as the LSD users would say, one hell of a bad-trip, dude!!!!!! THAT FAMILY echoed in my mind as I jolted out of my bed from that powerful ‘nightmare’. Remember I had just interacted with this nice bunch of BRIGGERS, back a few months ago while staying all alone at the fag molester’s place in Ventnor. Both then and now again with this destruction of Haddonfield, I remember all through it, being somehow telepathically sent or having a definite knowing, and this of course most likely is one and the same thing or at least along similar lines, in ways far above known and or admitted 2 ongoing things around the global society, that the owner authorities have a vested interest in keeping all of us ignorant 2 the total details of. They really do not mind bloggers sharing views, no matter how bizarre they may B, but after the closing of the BLUEBOOK, the authorities said, we claim this is all crap, and we refuse 2 cooperate with anyone regarding any parts of any of this stuff. They of course R intentionally covering up the facts that MORIANITY has been preaching now on blogs 4 nearly 5 full ass years. Certain things under oath would come out, such as if U took many producers and writers of any still-living science fiction and alien oriented Hollywood writers, they would B lying under oath, should they say that the authorities in the military top brass R always only 2 eager 2 help and assist in making many of these shows, up 2 a point, we in the UFOLOGY-CLUBS refer 2 this as the point of disinformation, where they want the belief system 2 basically center all around, just not in any way out beyond these barriers that surround what they have carefully decided is the Danger-Knowing-Zone. First of all, they actually come on as wanting 2B involved, but they want certain parts of the movies 2 all fall within a schedule of predetermined material, and outside the DKZ, this is no mans land. Should a director or producer insist on bucking what they R asked not 2 touch, the entire military team pulls out, and kills all support of the movies? Most if not all times where this has occurred, my extensive research showed that these movies never were really number ones, and that many obstacles made their way quite mysteriously into the making of the movie from the time of the military pull out in their cooperation, from that exact point, right through to the finishing of the production project, this is all fact, did deep, it is all there. Does this mean that I believe in little green men or round saucers, and U know the stuff all along this line? NO, NO, and NO. I do not believe it at all. I know that this, as well as millions of other stuff 100 times more way out and frighteningly outlandish than anything the best sci-fi writers have yet 2 come up with or perhaps dare 2 write 4 the public release, is more real than all of this so called waking world reality, and yet it is all confined 2 the condition-interaction of the ASTRAL-PLANE. Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, all the fictional characters, the flying saucers, all the aliens, they all live on the ASTRAL PLANE. Now this is not a place, physically, it is just simply put, 2 light of an atomic world, 4 our way of perception 2 ever think of this as tangible and or real. Making a cute little rhyme here, if they say and they do, that gold is king, then thought is thing. U cannot ever hope 2 merge these 2 planes of atomic-ness, our waking world matter plane 0of all the contained hyperspaces, and the ASTRAKL-PLANE containing all of everything that originally is dreamed out and away from the void infinity and then filtered slowly down onto this Astral World, through numerous system circuitries of a sort, all previously talked about and briefly explained in some technical jargon on many prior blogs over 4+ years now. Taking the destruction of this historic town where my school was located in, in this powerful nightmare, and putting it in comparativeness with the other dreaming starting with the first real biggie, the chain and the trinitrail in the skies, marking my endless connectedness with the All Mighty SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH KRASSLE, there is a lot of really wild stuff 2 get into at more opportune times. Right now there needs 2B a quick few other points made, and let me start now with this if U please.

First, my scummy ass hole neighbors R insane, and if not, they have only a door-number-2-explanation, and that is my pick, they were placed here directly 2 fuck with me, as was the PLAYBOY BUNNY, and as were many other peeps throughout many decades of my life as well. Now remember folks, I told U that within a month or less of my living here in Florida after making my successful escape on the night of December the eleventh or twelfth back in 2009, from my captors, Ann Silva and her daughter Dawn King, and THAT-FAMILY, doo-doo-doo----DOO!!!!!!! Ann’s letter described in more detail without a million cussing words calling me names that construction workers would shy-out over, and in Ann’s letter, she threatens that my life will get much worse. Right soon afterwards in about the time that it would take 2 get her Atlantic City friends and branch member family members 2 organize it, boom, in comes this mother and daughter trash team, that have made what used 2B a little refuge and not a bad place 2 live in 4 a lousy 425 monthly, into a red sizzling fucking hot nightmare hell, and U can square that. Now this is YI try not 2 threaten people and especially ever in writing. I will keep both of these letters, the one from her as well as the one from her wicked giant drunkard daughter. I have had someone run a little investigation of our own 4 my side of this fight recently, and just when I thought I was never gonna hear anything back, I did. In a nutshell, someone was paid 2 get in with these 2 ‘ladies’ if U wanna call this trash this, and they did indeed find out that they R enjoying ‘messing with me and making me as miserable as they can day and night”, a direct quote. Now, this is also just about a precise quote of Ann’s threat 2 me in her letter from middle January, that this would happen 2 me. The next step is pressing charges using this person who won their confidence as my court witness, and at least I can get them either out of Manatee, or make them wish they never messed with me, but if they buckle and admit 2 a conspiracy, this could B the start of a powerful lid blow off and where this could eventually stops would B said only so well by the great Jack McCoy of the TV show, “L&O”.

Last night I had a terrible health attack perpetrated on me. My bowels and my heart were hit huge time, and since I cannot die or B destroyed, the worst they can do is 2 put me in pain and agony, and then I will just wake up from a new dream where whatever was done 2 me just did not happen 2 successfully finish me off. 2 many times has this all happened B4, 4 me not 2 know that this is the truth, I have died just 2 many times, it just won’ seem 2 stick or take, U choose the pucking correct words 2 describe this endless hellish nightfreakingmare.

Someone has broken in between 2 and 4 times 2 my RV and violated my personal space and my civil rights. Legally of course, dirt bag FISA agents can enter, remove things, and along these lines, but they still R in violation of federal law by doing what they have been doing 2 me 4 many decades now. Breaking and destroying my property is not within their permitted powers, THIS IS EVERY BIT AS MUCH THE LAW AS ALL THE OTHER LAWS THAT ALLOW THEM 2 DO THE OTHER MOTHER FUCKING STUFF 2 ME, PEEPS. Twice, they knocked the plug out of my telephone, the jack is not loose, THEY R entering and half removing it so that when I talk on the phone, it suddenly goes dead and I lose a call. Twice, the thermostat on my fan and AC system has been messed with, a small unit has been placed inside of it, and I removed it. I am taking this 2 the FBI. U think UR real fucking funny, huh, well MI is not funny, your hacks R not funny, and violating my human and civil rights R not funny. U will B taken 2 court mother puckers.

I had the worst mother fucking Jane diseaseweeds attack last night in 10 or more mother pucking years on top of all of this other shit. First, the wrist watch nailed me and then the microwave nailed me, and finally, the clock near where I sleep nailed me, all at fucking eleven-eleven last night. Then 2 throw fucking mountains of salt on the open wound that is all ready throbbing away, my clock got me again where I sleep, at one-eleven this morning, 2 freaking ass hours later again. 3 hours or so later, I had a horrible interaction. Just when I thought MC was going 2 stop, YO, it was major!!!!!!!!! MAJOR!!!!!!!!! All I have time 2 go into now today about this, is that I was in another universe in the vast hyperspace. My mom was about 50-60 years old and I was around 35’ish. Some insurance company was also involved, and so was a security company and a job I was working at with them. A man by the name of Mister Johnson had some huge evidence that things were done 2 me by powerful people, and was going 2 turn it over 2 a distr8ict attorney along with the Florida State Attorney General. The very next day, in this same interaction, the man was jailed and ended up dead in his cell. I was telling mom that I will B going back 2 jail “again”, and plan 2 do something horrible 2 an enemy that I had figured was behind the framing of this Mister Johnson who I needed 2 help me. Somehow, also involved hugged hyper time in all of this were 2 regular looking white and thinly-lined loose-leaf papers, Y always 2, U know what I mean peeps, 2 tapes, 2 letters, 2 sheets of paper, number 20, number 2 in recent other interactions, and then on top of that, these 2 sheets had a line drawn half way down the page going across, separating 2 reports, one upper, one lower, on each of the 2 sheets. Another 2. I began reading the reports, and they appeared 2B relating 2 my shift duties at my guard job, wherever this was in this other parallel universe in the hyperspace. Suddenly, a screen like a large screen television appeared on a wall out of nowhere, and there were my 2 sheet-written-reports, displayed onto it. Then a picture of fire jumped bright and red, right directly out at me from this screen, with almost holographic intensity. Then bright purple reds were suddenly moving and whirling all around within the bright red fire display all over this screen. The words were, “Mariah Carey says hurry up with my apology song”. I awoke from this because suddenly I began 2 think that the screen was gonna blow up, as it was making loud motor type noises, only it was my noisy ass hole neighbors revving up around just past ten this morning. I do not understand her impatience, I fully intend 2 obey her, I will join her club, and post my apology tune up 2 the U-Tube system, just five me a chance. She also in this powerful ‘dream’ brought millions of fish with tiny centipede looking legs on them, that could both swim as well as walk on the land, totally invade the home I was in, which was quite large. It was all the offspring of this one huge mighty fish, looking a bit like a fully grown tuna. Its children were millions, and all sizes, ranging from a splinter U might get in a finger, all the way up 2 12-18 inches, a few even much bigger, but about 2 dozen or so different distinct sizes were all invading my residence, some large home. I was beside myself, screaming, “Mariah, I will obey U my brown eyed teen queen”, and said and repeated this line over and over. Suddenly she materialized and laughed at me and told me that soon, I will know many things that I only now dream of knowing. As 4 the number (2) coming into my life so much, could it B the quanta math again? U tell me, after all, 2Q2 does in fact equal 16, the mightiest number of the entire creation, and of course shall we never forget that SSJK is eternally just sweet 16, it is always her birthday, and I am always getting her that lovely giant white kite with the many blue bright polka dots all over its perimeter. It weighs just less than 700 pounds, and she picks it up and handles it like she is picking up her pin holder.

I sure wish that my dad’s old boss was still around with my having 2 constantly deal with this incredible family, or THAT-FAMILY-1970. Not Herbert Huntington mind U, but Herbert Hoover. He assigned my dad 2 some top secret diving mission and my mother was shown by the bureau, a picture photograph of my dad and her husband, in his big bulky mixed-gas diving suit. It all had 2 do with a Miami, Florida kidnapping, as well as this very Treasure Coast area where I now am residing.

JOHNSON, the name of the dude that I was dealing with in this powerful newest Mariah interaction just this early morning, has the private-cosmicoded-number of 752. Not a lot of words and terms have this PCN, it is not a more common PCN, some just R, and some just r not, most R common, it is a few that just have not a lot of things that work out 2 that particular double root group digits, in this case the ‘75’, and the year of many things, my getting an ass kicking 4 no good reason whatsoever by lifeguard mascots in Atlantic city while mom was up visiting the Long Island branch of the family in Babylon, on Peninsula Drive. Funny, at least in those days, the area code 2 my cousin’s place was 516, and if U shuffle box these digits just a bit, many things all occurred in my life over decades of time back in New Jersey on Jimmie Leeds Road, also known as Route #561. Harborfields Detention Center is on this road as well. The name of the non detention center school, got typo-hacked on a prior blog, and came out as (2) separate words, oh well “Let it B”. 12 ANGREY MEN never let a lot of things B, and yet one man said this statement right B4 they all sat along the jury table in a jury number arrangement of seating placement. This was the real and true first time this expression was used, John Lennon’s Beetle’s group was #2, and then #3 was my Electroluv song in the remake in 1988 from this late 1984 written song, ripped off by Canadian superstar diva, in clever ways, not just in title but melody phrasings that barely pass the musicologists test 4 non-infringement, I speak here of the wife of another major child molester, the none other than Celine Dion. But even though there may not B a huge abundance of 752-PCN’s, here R5 interesting ones that I am presently aware of, one being the county in which I now reside, here in the sunny state of Florida, and without any dancing and singing kids all sitting around sipping on tasty fruit juices from the turn of the freaking century. Yes SAINT LUCIE COUNTY is PCN-752, and so is, MONSTER, OCTOBER THIRTY-ONE, I AM HERE, and WORLD TRADE CENTER, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Things, all things, R planned and placed, by a powerful and very misunderstood force. Combinations, cosmic equations, and connections, all things harped on in my 1994 copyrighted book entitled, “The Permission Barrier”, is all just nothing more than part of a game. This game has a name, DISTRACTION. Distraction from what U may B asking me and pondering? Well, from the knowing that U simply exist. UR. U exist, time is no more real in its true sense than is anything, the only thing that’s real is total void, or absolute nothingness. Please brown-eyed-lovely-girl, U will get your apology song, the world will have it, just B a little patient, and stop sending fish all over my various residences throughout hyperspace, it is gonna take a year 2 clean out that mess of fish my love. U know I love U Scylla that will never change; my tall lovely angel Goddess U, and I am your obedient servant. Just know I will tell how much I regret both what I did that night in the city, as well as writing that horrible song, I know it hurt U, and I am so sorry, I cry every single day.

Thank U Diana 4 coming over 2C me yesterday, Saturday 4 a quick visit. Your lovely beautiful lightning makes me wild and all I can think of is making passionate love 2 my long haired tall exquisite baby blond!!!!! Come C me again, my endless love, and tell your cuz SSJK, I am going as fast as I can with this project she wants done.

As always there is a mountain of stuff 2 tell, but this library will B closing. I was hoping 2 get more into World Lab, DATFILES, and things all popping up, 12 Angry Men, movies, tapes, things, it is all a huge system that not one person alive today has a real handle or decent clue about, not a one. It makes any sci-fi show yet done and publicly released, pale with this. When time permits, Uncle Camerabank, I will start getting into things. Many of U totally misunderstood when a year or so back I told U that parlor tricks were doing certain things, this was not a lie, just my imperfect way at the time of rationally explaining very important things. The truth about this in a compressed nutshell is that many more dimensions R all inside the 3 that U and I think we all R so locked up and tightly confined within. When U add electromagnetic realities into this mix, such as with the intentional plan of the MILLIONTH-COUNCIL, and the new age world of electronics that’s over a century old now, changes things, making it appear that no other possible or rational explanation other than some kind of time travel, could possibly B behind some of the things going on around us all, and seemingly, me especially. Nothing is farther from the truth, and I still believe despite some recent wavering and vacillations on my part that the MOVCOM is like Santa Claus and Oliver Twist, and even the Jesus followers of olden days, and exists only on the ASTRAL-PLANE, it is more real than anything here in waking life, it just is not merged with our exact much heavier atomic frequencies that make up our heavier tangible hyperspace universes. Interferon study will B next as well, target by me in numerous way, it must B exposed and attacked, just as much as needs B the motives 4 the creation of the sciences of the fields of psychology and psychiatry. I am out of time, so BYE-BYE, yes MI; I will do what U want brown eyes. Just let me know if that is all U need, I will show U anytime U want, that my claims R not one of those, “Oh yeah, right” deals. All U have 2 ever do is ask.

End Transmission: