After years and years of what amounts to ritualized social stigmatization based on false narratives told by others for profit, and having survived many false criminal and civil charges leveled at me by state and other agents of deception; and after years of actual abuse in police databases, and actual abuse by police in social narratives, which culminated in me literally being shot in the back with a Taser one night as I walked home, I decided it is an existential duty to myself to write this story, because wrestling with narratives sure get’s muddy you challenge traditionalist, authoritarian, and majoritarian mythology; and when lies become more important to any society than truths.

And certainly, having police come behind me at every opportunity to attempt to blackmail, smear and slander me with false claims didn’t help much. I realized that I am not alone-that this ha become the de facto state of our emergent police state, as we see the NSA spying has revealed. The fact is, I have never been convicted of any crime, never hired some fancy lawyer to get me out of jail free, nor committed any crime for which I was accused. But this is the fact that doesn’t matter to an America enthralled with power, and nascent fascism, and the left’s version of that, which is communism.Where once I said- I am glad I have privacy, we all now know this isn’t true at all. And privacy is where every other right comes from.

So I preface my story with these facts: I watched as a cop spent ‘alone time’ with my sister when she was 12. I watched as the daughter of a cop used my own daughter as a means of survival. I watched as my father fought six cops on my front lawn in the days before murdering the mentally ill became more expedient than healing them. But everywhere I look today, policing isn’t getting any more humane, and neither is American society that recoils as boogieman after boogieman is dragged before the newspapers, and never sees a day in a court room. So I did something about it. I came here, to fight the hordes of pedophiles that plague my conservative largely Catholic town of Sierra Madre, CA, where the local gossip rag delineates the good guys from the bad guys as “anonymous versus the dirts.”

Suffice it to say that the majority of child abuse, and child sexual abuse is perpetrated by those in authority over children, and then, by those who  control the narrative about child abuse, all of whom derive income from this collusion. And the worst of those are they who are gradually cloaking lady Justice in te whole cloth of narrative and legal fictions about hordes of pedophiles. I can say with certainty only one thing: I have met the pedophiles, and they are nearly a whole cloth creation of traditionalists who ritually blame others for what they and their communities perpetrate through false narrative, and myth creation.

Putting on my pedophile fighting armor now, and it won’t cost the taxpayers 70 billion dollars. I will work for free.

Who is the mighty pedophile fighter of Sierra Madre, CA?

In order to change the world, you must first change yourself. This is an idiom worth keeping in mind as you read my story, because once upon a time, I was at the center of international intrigue, and plots of all kinds, with United Sates agents and agencies on one side, and international and local figures on the other. At times, I was in between many conversations that have taken on new meaning today, that then, were just odd situations that I was aware of. At times I distinctly felt the pressure of being a ‘man in the middle’ and privy to dialogues that took place around me, and often, through me, though I wasn’t aware of it at the time.I was at at all times, pressured and sometimes, harassed outright by these people and agents. I was a doorman, a simple guardian at a gate,or a Siddhartha at the river if you will; and I watched people all night long, protected those vulnerable to themselves and others, and steered hundreds of potential DUI’s or car crashes into taxi’s. This is what I was, once.
In the era before ‘the war on terror,” I had a unique insight into one local community, Minneapolis, MN.,  that has since become the primary recruiting ground whereby the police, and the DHS, the FBI and other agents and agencies manipulate local populations through fear of the boogieman, and foment domestic terror plots created from whole cloth, and creates terrorists from the Islamic and Somali communities, but also, previous to this current war, there have been others used in such a manner, and other communities were affected similarly.
In that community, and previous to the strategic influx of Somali refugees (whereby America gained a foothold in the gulf region, and was then and is now able to recruit native language speakers from the tribes of the region), there were may waves of other strategic immigration as well. Minnesota has a long and sometimes controversial history of immigration that has included Nazi sympathizers, and actual Nazi’s, Jewish pimps and organized gangs , eugenecists, Nordic socialists, and Hmong who were allied with general Vang Pao. This last group is today highly integrated into the political system, and they are strategic assets, as their people freely transit through the mountains between China, Thailand and Laos.

For my part, I was a doorman at a place called the Loring Bar and Cafe, just off of the main drag of Hennepin Avenue, in downtown Minneapolis MN. Today, that bar no longer exists and it is instead replaced by it’s second incarnation, the Loring Pasta Bar, in Dinkytown, Minneapolis. Dinky is the expression that was once in vogue to describe college aged males who wore beanie hats, and acted like dinks. This bar is situated in what is arguably the epicenter of all social policy formation and politics of that state, as it sits next to the University of Minnesota, which is as most universities are, a liberal-progressive-AIPAC sponsored zionist college that-not ironically-once hosted a building named after the founder of American eugenics, Charles Fremont Dight.
This bar and its politics leaned liberal progressive, and the clientele was largely comprised of foreigners and immigrants from European countries, the like of which are called generally and pejoratively “euro-trash,” as they had expendable income and international social circles (or at least showed up there to appear as if they did). These ranged from Germans, Poles, Russian and French nationals, as well as every other eastern block nation at one time or another. Many other countries comprised the clientele-Italy, Lebanon, Morocco, and the entire middle eastern communities frequented the place, and it was generally known to be a place of intrigue, romance, and sometimes shady brush passes with undercover cops, intelligence agents and agencies who worked the bar from covert angles.

And, as you might guess, just before and after  9/11, the bar was a hot spot for interesting activity, as organized crime figures met with their handlers, and FBI agents showed up in fake Saudi turbans, or as Hispanics affiliated with one or another agency tried to rid themselves of the ‘Orale’ vato’ linguistic traits of California, and  mingled with the clientele from their nations, and practiced their middle eastern or other ‘brown culture’ language skills. And every Thursday was what we called “fight night” as Russian Jews and Israeli’s battled with Saudi’s and Palestinians for control of the room, or a young beauty,  or worked out other politics.
With this background  in mind, let me describe another bar where I was once a doorman-Perry’s Pizza, which sits at the other side of the U of MN, on University avenue. This was a pizza parlor, which by day served calzones and spaghetti and the rest of the usual Italian fare, but it was run by a unique pair of individuals, Hiep “Tom” Than and his amazing wife Kim Nguyen, and their three kids. My story herein begins around this time, when I was able to crawl outside of this country for the first time in my life, and try to escape what America is becoming, which is arguably, a police state, stratified into a two tiered society, and enabled by a complete and total corruption of due process, as everyone’s phone is indeed wire-tapped, as we now know, thanks to Edward Snowden.
Perry’s was a crossroads of many nations as well, like the Loring, but it was particularly Viet Namese clientele, and every other Asian cultures. While this bar was unlike the Loring in that it was largely cliques of college kids, it also hosted another group of high rolling Asian’s, and many of these were affiliated with Asian gangs and organized crime.And, despite allegations to the contrary-it was not then and is not now my job to act as an accessory of the surveillance state, and rat on people who cross my path, or come through my door.
So, I tell you this now to lend context to everything else I will tell you, and I will tell you that I am white, and rare in America in that my experience has been in any culture except white people from America, and when I encounter these, they frequently tried to recruit me as a rat- as an informant against these others, in odd and pretentious ways. In the era of “the war on terror,” I was to some, a potential commodity to be exploited.And failing that, I became a target of their wrath, which I document on this blog.
And I learned then, what you know now about this NSA international wiretapping scheme which was really a naked blackmail scheme targeting American’s and our foreign connections. These programs, and the many other un-Constitutional hidden, and  illegal investigations, followed by real on paper investigations where crimes of the state against liberty are then covered up and “reconstructed,” to create an arrest, and a fraud uponthe courts, ‘coz’ bad guys.’ I learned about America and its corporate corrupted congress, as I had at that time been approached n multiple occasions by odd people who asked me personal information that could only have been gleaned from my telephone. I was keenly aware- and I suspect that this is what those who listened in on  my life wanted me to know- that I was under constant and chronic, pervasive surveillance, and frequently asked in many nefarious ways if I would become “an informant,” and which I refused.
I will document this later in various ways, using various examples, and this blog is largely my research into the topic-which I encourage you to use. But for my purposes here, I will simply state that the whole world not only knows that what I describe is possible, but that it is also probable in my case specifically, and case after case afterwards, some of which we are beginning to see in the news today. But I was forced to choose between the rock and the hard place; the recurrent double bind of us versus them, and all those false binaries- and I chose our Constitution every single time, for which I have paid a price, for anyone who is reading this today.
My privacy thus invaded, and every right or freedom that can be had or even imagined after that became null. Freedom of association; freedom of assembly and every other right that stems from privacy were absent in my life from these points forwards, after I became aware that I was a constant target of hidden surveillance, and more. On the job, a frequent occurrence would be something such as a handshake, where some person would try to slip me drugs, or other things like what is called “directed conversations” where I was interrogated about people in my bars, or my own personal life, and much of that conversation, again, could only have come from a wiretap on my personal phone.

And sometimes, the information was plainly embarrassing, so much so that I wore a wire and a small tape recorder at times to merely protect my personal safety and integrity.
In short, my life became a training ground, a proving ground, and a target of chronic investigation as both federal and local police agents came to me one after another in an endless stream. It didn’t matter if I was on a phone, or on the internet, or working my door- these events occurred repeatedly in all of these situations. And thus, I used my personal devices as traps, and planted information in conversations that would certainly become germane to any ill-tuned state agents ear. And I had great results, as then, I was at some point later queried about this information-all of which was a false flag on my part to create an opportunity for me to confirm my suspicions.
I talked about yellow diamonds, terrorists,  and sneaking hordes of hookers across the Canadian border. I talked about old Chicago politics, mass murderer John Gacy, and dished dirt about senators and mayors and former governnors, like Rod Blagojevich, and President Obama; and Chicago Outfit gossip, most of which anyone can read about in the newspapers, and most of which I had. And without fail, I was questioned for periods of years-year after year- by complete strangers about this ‘information,’ as one after another they sidled up to me in bars, or elsewhere. And still I refused to become a rat.

This is how I learned about what we all know now as our total information awareness state-the surveillance state we are in today. You see, after long periods where I was a constant target of entrapment attempts, I became a trapper myself. A pretty good one too. Such is the good fortune of sitting in one place every night, and watching.
I am one who will watch the watchers, and have been for decades-will you join me now, or will you believe their stories, and all of those things written in their dossiers’-because as we all know, dossiers are for communist block nations, and states ruled by dictatorships. Is that what you want?
Who will watch the watchers-?
For decades, I fought the Panoptical and one sided hidden brutality that is our emergent police state, and this is my story. While I am no Ignatius P. Riley, I am a keen observer of the political and social playing fields upon which  our lives have been cast as “us versus them” in a big coliseum that we once called America, indivisible, and I once tried to change the national narrative with counter-narrative, for which I have paid a very heavy price. I have lost my livelihood, my children, my homes and cars-my dignity and self respect at times demolished.

A man just needs to eat, and then if he is lucky enough, he gets to feed others- but when they usurp even those basic rights, there is nothing left to live for, except the fight, through the word, which truly is mightier than the sword.

Since valiant NSA whistle blowers Russel Tice, William Binney, and Kirk Wiebe, and Dianne Roarke, and most importantly Edward Snowden provided the background and documentation that told us that the NSA and 17 other agencies are spying on Americans as targets and have been for decades; and as Trump builds a wall to ‘keep them out,’ others of us are well aware that walls also keep us in when we least expect it, and need to get out the most.

As other whistle blowers and hackers, and alternative narratives are coming forwards in alternative media, I hope you believe as I do: that an America that is influenced to do the bidding of Saudi Arabia, Russia, or the PRC, you might discover that despite your politics, our future as a nation depends on countering this massive assault waged by a blackmailed and silenced Congress, and backed by complicit LEO’s and intelligence agencies that are waging war on the most basic rights we share.These last would work for Nazi’s Communists, or anyone else who pays their pensions, or slops their troughs.

The New world Order is upon us, some more than others, and while I am no Hercules, I ask you to aid me in doing the heavy lifting, and protect the rights that we-and our children hold dear. To protect our rights in any way necessary.  I did it, and continue to do it, with a stolid and necessary resistance, and refusal to cooperate with those who would undermine liberty, for temporary security.

My story herein is the all-too-fattened account crawling out from the underbelly of all those “good guys” directed at us “bad guys” who they seek to blackmail, or use as rats and snitches to further their un-Constitutional subversion of every right that stems from the most underlying basic Constitutional principle of privacy; which the founders-who wrote in pseudonyms for a reason- knew that  no other rights could exist