[Some of the events described herein have been reported previously on this blog. But because there are people harassing me at present who did not read my previous report, I am repeating it again adding new material. It cannot be over emphasized, and keep in mind this is a brief account of events. Many serious and important events are omitted.]
The holiest week in the Christian calendar arrived in 2016, bringing new criminal abusers to my life and to my residence. They are fearful of me obtaining an attorney to represent my interests. And they fear me having an association with Columbia University in the City of New York, which awarded me a BA degree in 1970. The landlord rents a vacant apartment for a parade of criminals. They enjoy harassing an elder white man who survived 45 years of criminal abuse by government and crime families. They tell everyone I know, knew and meet, "He's crazy." That is to scare everyone away who may not be filled with hate and hostility toward me. They know that none of the $2 billion taxpayer funded agencies will provide assistance because they say, "There's nothing wrong with you." The current cycle is mainly between Communists from Washington state, who say "He's homeless and mentally ill." and the Kennedy Cult which says "He's a retired drug dealer."
For whatever reason they compete with one another. It should not matter to me. But they both take turns harassing me, punishing me as the scapegoat for whatever misdeeds they feel they have suffered. Instead of attacking each other, they both attack me. It is the same as the pattern during the war from 1960 to 1974. Both the Kennedy cult and the California crime Syndicate took turns attacking me.
The Kennedy cult also narrates "He betrayed us." or something. There is a long history of abuse from that popular economic and political organization beginning in 1968 when they admired my political skills, and adopted me. I was a student at Columbia University in The City of New York when radical left wing students provoked university administrators. They tried to get the administration to exercise its lawful powers to end an occupation by student activists of several classroom and administrative buildings.
Classes were suspended. That angered me because I wanted to go to school to get my degree. Most of the students who got involved were long time political activists of various stripes. I was unknown and generated a lot of animosity because of my rapid success and their history of activism. Liberal and radical students called me, "Hitler." The Kennedy cult adopted me without my knowledge. I did not even know it existed at the time. They were in the midst of a 14 year national war with the California crime Syndicate. I was unaware of that too. Strange people insulted me, and caused me distress. I just took it as ordinary New Yorkers doing what they do.
In 1973 after I got my degree from Columbia, I moved to Boston, MA to attend Boston University School of Law. It did not have a successful outcome. I barely lasted one year. It took a lot of effort on my part to remain after a few months. I wondered what I was doing at the law school. The discussions were exciting, raising ethical and legal questions. I learned how the law worked. It was not until 1983 after a landlord locked me out of my premises that I learned the details of how the law worked and also how the courts did not work.
The Executive Director of the ACLU of New Jersey explained to me, "You don't need a lawyer. You need a law firm." That was 32 years ago. I experienced many more criminal abuses since that five year effort in municipal, state and US courts, up to and including the Supreme Court of the United States. During those five years, I spent seven days a week until midnight in law libraries doing research and writing briefs. I traveled to the US Court of Appeals, and to the high court in Washington, DC on several occasions. But that was many years after my misguided year at law school.
I was unhappy after that one year. I wondered what mistake, or mistakes I made to find myself driving a taxi and getting stoned. It took me several years to learn what caused my career crash. I had a lot of time on my hands in the spring of 1973. The Watergate scandal was at its highest level in Washington DC. I spent a lot of my free time reading reports and watching TV broadcasts of hearings. I was angry as I could be screaming at the TV asking, "Who does he think he is talking to?" He was the president, who I believed was lying to American voters and taxpayers.
Sometime in the spring Richard Nixon appointed Harvard University law professor Archibald Cox to be a special prosecutor to investigate the Watergate allegations. During my tenure at Columbia as chairman of a student committee from 21 schools of the university, elected to meet with the university trustees, I met many political leaders, academic leaders, student leaders, and community leaders. The faculty committee invited Professor Cox to investigate the causes of the student unrest, which is how I met him. When I came to Boston I saw him on occasion and said hello.
When he was appointed special prosecutor, I was in a unusual state because I knew someone who was at the highest levels of the federal government. When I was student chairman I also met former Supreme Court Justice, and UN Ambassador Arthur Goldberg. I spoke with him in his office on Madison Avenue a few blocks from where I used to work as a computer programmer. I also met a former Secretary General of the UN, Andrew Cordier, and US Senator Jacob Javits. It took me a long time to get used to having met those famous people. I did not know it at the time but people believed that if I knew the famous people, I was important. Surprise!
The trustees of the University at the time were a panel of super stars in the world of American business. Bank directors, chairmen of the boards of utilities and the phone company, investors and real estate magnates. I paid a lot of attention to the Watergate scandal knowing I had met some of the movers and shakers in the "corridors of power."
When I read about the Cox appointment I remembered reading that he refused to attend the White House wedding of Nixon daughter, Tricia, to Edward Finch Cox. The article in the Boston Globe said that Archibald was the uncle of Edward, and that A. Cox was a delegate to the Democratic Party national convention in 1968 for US Senator Edmund Muskie of Maine. The article said Professor Cox disliked Nixon because of the dirty tricks by the Nixon campaign which were directed against Muskie.
I was not involved with any political party. I supported candidates if liked them no matter which party they were in. I was just a concerned citizen. I was also angry at Nixon for the allegations of his spying on the Democratic candidate, George McGovern's campaign in 1972. I knew Nixon was accused of being a liar and a thief. But he was not stupid. Why would he appoint Cox as special prosecutor if he disliked him? And if he was a Democratic Party delegate? I called two Columbia graduates whose political opinions I respected. I asked them both if the Coxes were related. They both told me, "You're smoking too many of those funny cigarettes." One said "I know them both. They are not related." But I recalled that Globe article. When I retrieved it on microfilm in the library, the paragraph about Cox had been cleansed. The article no longer mentioned Cox at all. That is when I learned, seeing for myself, that journalists covered up for politicians and the government.
A recent article in an obscure online site posted this story.
Submitted by Tyler Durden
I went on about my life. When a man appeared at my front door asking about a neighbor, he showed me a Department of Defense ID. I told him to go to city hall if he wanted information, and closed my front door. He re-appeared at my back door and I told him again to leave. I did not find that to be unusual. I experienced many unusual events during that period. The unusual events continued for the next 45 years and continue today.
Getting back to the present, the Kennedy cult homosexual who harasses me in March 2016, tries to provoke violence and conducts a behavior conditioning campaign trying to make me into a homosexual. He thinks I betrayed the Kennedy cult, by revealing that Archibald Cox was related to Edward Finch Cox. Alas like several others, e.g., hundreds, he is wrong. But also once again he attacks me and punishes me for something I did not do. But he thinks I did and that is what matters. I think it is Mark Twain who said, "It ain't what you don't know that gets you into trouble. It's what you know for sure that just ain't so." That applies to this homosexual who is harassing me in the days leading up to Easter and the days after that holy day.
I did not reveal to the Nixon administration about the relationship of the two Coxes. My telephone was tapped by the FBI in 1973 and probably ever since 1968, when the FBI and the CIA was keeping me under surveillance. I even know the name of the special agent who transcribed the tapes and relayed what he heard to the Nixon White House. I know the name of one CIA agent who watched me at Columbia.
For the past 45 years one of the reasons the Kennedy cult targeted me, but did not kill me was they believed I was a spy and revealed what Watergate was really all about. That is why government psychiatrists drugged me in 1973 for 80 consecutive days using hallucinogens. They asked, "How did he know that?" In politics it is seldom the truth that drives attacks. It is what serves the interests of the organization, the candidate or the party. Propaganda. I was an annoyance. They needed to discredit me, and they did a superb job using psychiatrists, crime families, and Communists. Anyone, who believed the relentless character assassination that began in 1973 and continues in 2016.
In 1968 the Kennedy cult established a profile for me. "He's a black, homosexual Jew from New York." was it. That was because my parents were not educated and I grew up in a poor white dysfunctional family. It was more like the majority of black families. That was to indicate that I was to be treated as if I was black. Over the years sometime between 1979 and 1988 there was a change. The profile became "He's a white Italian homosexual racist Communist from Boston." For a while there was a conflict between those who saw me as black and those who saw me as a white racist. Some people called me "the n*****r." Others called me a racist. It was an interesting period. The objective was to isolate me after 1973, and to scare others away. It is a skill that spies have developed to a high degree.
In 2016, the Kennedy cult joined the California crime Syndicate, and the Communists from Washington State broadcasting "He's homeless, mentally ill, and a high school dropout." As long as no lawyer will volunteer to stop these abuses they will continue and drag me further into the abyss. No longer do I enjoy any political, economic or social support. They have all gone the way of the "black homosexual Jew from New York" profile. Now they call me "racist". They no longer call me "n****r.
Though I do not have evidence, I suspect that someone placed keystroke software on my home computer. Whatever I write gets an almost immediate reaction from the watchers in a nearby unit. After I typed the above rant, I tried to get some of that needed interrupted sleep, even though it is during a reverse sleep pattern. It was about 12:55 PM on Tuesday March 29, 2016, the middle of my sleep period, I heard a noise that woke me up. It was someone pushing against the door to my apartment. At first I thought it was the cleaner using his vacuum banging against my door. But it continued. I placed my hand on the door and felt it was being pushed against the jam as if someone was trying to get into my apartment. I looked through my "peephole." I saw an Asian woman, a man in a ski mask, and a baby. Also some clothing in a shopping cart. They were not known to me as tenants of the building. I asked through the door, "What do you want?" I could not understand the responses. It might have been, "The key does not work." And, "He's in there?"
I asked again, "What do you want?" They walked toward the front door of the building. I listened. I heard a door close. Then again. It might have been other tenants going and coming. It might have been the three "visitors" picking up packages left by FedEx and UPS. I did not know what to think. I was not about to open the door to a man in a ski mask, just having woken up. I decided to ignore the event. Then I thought I should tell the management office of the building. But they would expect me to call the Harvard University campus police, not my favorite people to call. Who needs all the mishegoss? They would come to the building and want to interview me. I did not want to do that.
I called to the management office and told the receptionist what happened. She suggested I call the campus police. I demurred. She agreed to send one of the superintendents. I called the campus police and explained the event to police receptionist. She said she would send an officer. About 1:19 PM the receptionist called me asking me to open the front door for the officer. Hundreds of people have keys to the building front door. UPS, FedEx, painters, contractors. But not the campus police? I went to the front door. A female officer was there in uniform. I let her in. She carried a small notebook. I told her the event details. She told me her name. She did not ask any questions, besides my name and phone number. Would she call me for a date? She did not ask how tall were they. What were they wearing. What they said. She asked me for identification as if I was not supposed to be there. She asked, "Are you Harvard?" I told her I am a twenty year tenant and that I went to Columbia University.
Another officer, male, arrived. We spoke a bit about relaxed security. After a few moments they left. I called to the management office and sent two emails about the events. It was now about 2:00 PM. My sleep was ended for the day. I had to experience more distress from policemen because of some people who annoyed me. All in all it was not an auspicious beginning for the day. I suspect it was an attempt to provoke an incident, due to my recent criticism of local, state, and US politicians. Can't imagine that they are so fragile. But perhaps they are. In any case there is a long list of suspects. Maybe it was just the homosexual who was harassing me the night and morning of the March 28-29, 2016. Maybe he works for the politicians. More mishegoss.