The Escape From 'Sprach'land

August 8th, 2004, Sunday

Still waiting for one of 10 people to come up with the money they owe me so I can hit the road and bid my 4 years of hard time in Golden. CO, a fond farewell. Frankly, even though my largesse has kept all of these people fed, clothed, housed AND entertained for 2+ years now, they are all 'sprach' zombies and I don't think any of them will ever pay me back. I mean they've stolen all my lighters, my socks, my fingenail clippers, my cars, my CD's and STILL I'm trying to help them. Larger and larger holes are appearing in their brains apparently, as their sprach-induced spongiform encephalopathic rhizotomies progress.

Nothing I can do now 'cept try to save myself. Sigh. Well, at least, while I'm waiting, I can drive around aimlessly and watch the Golden Police AND the West Metro Drug Enforcement Task Force attempt to tail me without being noticed as I make endless loops around Golden watching them, marked and unmarked, marveling at the collective hubris that motivates them into following the ONLY person in town who is NOT an addict or a cook. I guess, in the long run, it's better than letting them foist yet another of their warrentless searches on the brain-dead addict population. What a pathetic group of losers (even worse than the addicts) these supposed "Public Servants" are - I mean the entire drug network in this town is essential to the undercover cops because without it THERE WOULD BE NO NEED FOR UNDERCOVER COPS!

Every dope cook I knew in Golden had been busted more than once, turned in three of their associates toget thier own charges commuted, and was working for the police, making more drugs to create more addicts to keep the Task Force funded and justify said Force's existance. Without CI's (Confidential Informants) informing on each other over and over again there would have been no reason for even the DEA to exist! They were being forced to import people to get arrested from outlying areas like Littleton and Aurora just because EVERYBODY in town had busted EVERYBODY else - THREE TIMES!

Drug cops NEED addicts and they hated me because I had been sent to Golden to help heal the addicted, so I was a threat to an entire economic Black Op. and those employed to maintain its viability. The money paid to the CI's was used by those same CI's to buy the equipment and pre-cursors to make more drugs. But if I was allowed to escape both addiction AND town, their dirty little scheme might soon become public knowledge 'cause I sure as hell wasn't going to let everything I'd learned over the past 4 years just stay in my head - NO WAY I was going to pass up an opportunity to make it known that the "War On Drugs" was actually a scheme to make more addicts so that the people employed in the "War" could continue to have jobs AND inflated budgets for 'fighting crime'. What a laugh - without the crime (which they were behind) their jobs would not exist! I was just glad to hit the road.

Yclept Jywylyd.

(Now that's a much better line than "Call me Ishmeal" I opine!)
Great Old English word that: 'yclept', from before the language was ruined subsequent to the Norman conquest - but I digress, I guess - and yes, I'll do that a lot, and therein will lie the tales.
Still, nothing untoward would have happened had not the "Company" searched for, found and lured me to Colorado, again. Yes, and nothing would have happened if I hadn't, once again, like a fool, (or a "glutton for punishment") followed. They went to a LOT of trouble to track me down, living as I was anonymously, in the Aridzona desert, COMPLETELY off the 'grid' in a 1961 International schoolbus, solar powered and converted to a Class A motorhome. Nevertheless they knew that I could be bought with the promise middle class comforts and a good job.

But in the end it wasn't the CIA and Operation M K Ultra in the '70's, the 'Little Greys' and 'Little Blue Doctors throughout my life, not the crooked DA's, nor rogue DEA agents, dirty vice cops or undercover confidential informants involved in ELF mind control experiments of the '90s that nearly brought me to my end - but instead it was the torrential rains of autumn, in the Red Rock outback beyond Sedona, Arizona that almost got me.

I mean, who was I to think that I could easily escape from the Neo-Teutonic schadenfreuden beer barons of Golden, Colorado and their "Company" assisted experiments with the controlled maintenance of a controlled substance culture anyway? "'Sprach'land" almost didn't let me go, and even now I could feel the minions of that dark 'Black-Op" infested town creeping up on me . . .

A Journal Of The Mind Control Years

. . . ubiquitously bemused and befuddled we blundered while
in wonder were we rapt, trapped in a vapid verisimilitude of vainglory we valiantly vied,
enthralled by elegaic epihanies and endless, ennervating eulogies to our own emancipation
we tried to ply the peripathetic metaphors of metaphysical mannerism whilst we moved
through these, our sullen and sullied similes of being.

Doubtless our biographers will not wax as verbose as those of the "shock troops" of the Rosicrucian and Theosophical Mysteries, (Crowley, Blavatsky, Yeats and Waite et. al.) but we of the Aquarian Mysteries Revolution will have suffered, and gained, much, much more (and make no mistake, gentle reader, the psychoneuropathology of Consciousness Expansion, and it's attempted repression by the post- modern Judeo-Christianic status-quo, IS the heart and soul of the Aquarian Age and it's advent)!

"We are meant to be
Instruments of Love
Sent to tame a cruel universe
created by a jealous God."
- John William Thrasher