Bresson "A Man Escaped" at CSUN

Happy Late Night, Sweet Baby,

Nothing much to report today, except for tonight's movie at CSUN, which was "A Man Escaped" by Robert Bresson (1956). The professor stated before the film that a lot of people consider it to be Bresson's masterpiece. Though I would reserve that accolade for "Diary Of A Country Priest", I can see why some would choose this film. It certainly is a high point of his paired down style and "perfect fit" editing. Each shot fits into the next as if it was machined, like gears turning or perfectly cut puzzle pieces. A young French Resistance officer is in a German prison, planning his seemingly impossible escape. The camera shows only parts of him at a time: his face and eyes as he waits for the right moment to chip away at his wooden cell door; then cut straight to he hands as he does so. It's the total Bresson style, where every single shot counts, and though everything is simple and nothing is showy, it is all done with Swiss Watch precision. And it is this precision that creates the tension in the film, which plays out as a thriller in the last 20 minutes.

My favorite is "Country Priest" because of it's profound spiritual content and also because the film creates a feeling that the viewer exists within it's world. "A Man Escaped" does this too, mainly because of the incredible black and white photography and hyper realistic sound design, but is less a poetic film than a tense, action oriented one, even if the action mostly takes place in a small enclosure. It feels like you are in the prison cell with this guy, and the spirituality comes from his unrelenting effort to free himself - his faith against all odds.

It is a claustrophobic film gradually stepping toward freedom, and the determination to reach his goal shows in the lead character's eyes.

Bresson is a filmmaker who should be studied - watched and re-watched - as much for what he does to tell a story as for what he doesn't do. The look of what is in each frame and the way shots are edited one into the next are possibly even more important than the dialogue.

It's almost as if they are silent films. Though they aren't, you could watch a Bresson film without sound and still know what was happening to a significant degree. That's how big a part the mise-en-scene (staging of shots in each frame from scene to scene) plays in his films. ////

I hope your day was good as always. I Love You.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Another Great Shot (Stitched Up Heart) + The Beatles Movie

Happy Late Night, Sweet Baby,

I hope your day was good. That was an awesome closeup you posted this morning of the singer from Stitched Up Heart! Crystal clear and colorful and expressive too. That's a shot they should use in a profile or promo. Your roster of bands is very happy with your work, Elizabeth, and this will continue to spread the word about you as it ripples outward. As you help promote the bands with your pix and videos, they help promote you. You are just shy of two years out of school, and look at what you've achieved so far. And the main thing is, you are having a blast doing it. That's what rock n' roll is all about....  :)

This afternoon, I went to see the new Beatles documentary by Ron Howard : "Eight Days A Week : The Touring Years". As the title states, it was all about the years 1963-66, when the group (which had already been playing clubs since 1960) became a hit first in England and then in America in 1964. That's when Beatlemania hit and they became a stadium act by the next year. The film uses a lot of restored live footage from that era - 50 years ago! omg - and Ron Howard and his team have done an incredible job of piecing everything together into a narrative that re-creates the feeling of what it was like for the band, the fans and the world.

I know that The Beatles are not immediate to your generation, but if you ever wonder why people still listen to them and talk about them after half a century, see this film. I came into the world in 1960, the year The Beatles became "The Beatles" (before that they had been called The Quarrymen), and some of my earliest memories are of putting my sisters' Beatle records onto the turntable of a little plastic record player. Their music formed my first impression of rock n' roll, which subsequently became the biggest influence on my life.

I was 3 years 8 months when The Beatles' music was first played in America. My sister Vickie had their first record right after it came out, and what I remember was the energy in the music. Very uptempo, but also like it had an electric charge in it. It was very melodic and very exciting. I never got to see them play live, but in the movie there is a ton of concert footage, and that "high voltage" feeling comes through loud and clear.

I said to Grimsley tonight, "The Beatles were the hardest rock band of all time", and that is for sure in the sense of high energy. It is quite simply incredible. They could have blown any band off the stage. They played to 56,000 at Shea Stadium in New York in 1965 when other bands could hope to pull in 5000 fans max. Rock & Roll was only 9 years old at that point!

There was never anything like Beatlemania and there never will be again because it was a birthing process. Despite Elvis and the great acts of the 1950s, it was The Beatles who - through their advanced songwriting and super tight live playing - gave birth to the long lasting potential of rock music. Before that, it was seen as a fad, and even Elvis had faded out and joined the Army.

The Beatles The film shows exactly what it was like in those early years; The Beatles were the most famous people in the history of show business or really any other business, but in the end it was that fame that caused them to stop touring, as their concerts became increasingly about the fans' idol worship and in fact it became dangerous for them to tour. So, they became a recording group only and the first album they released in this capacity was "Sgt. Pepper", which again is pretty amazing considering everything else that had already happened.

All in all, it was an amazing film to see, mostly because of the restored concert footage but also because of the story it told. Two major events began the generational phenomenon known as the 1960s, and they occurred almost simultaneously : The assassination of President Kennedy was followed just 11 weeks later by the arrival of The Beatles in America and on February 7 1964, Beatlemania began in this country, and worldwide. That started the 1960s, and the rest is history.

Especially the rock n' roll.  :)

And it's still going strong more than 50 years later.

That is awesome.  /////

See you in the morning, Sweet Baby. I Love You.  xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo  :):)

I'm Back + I Love The DeCampos Trail + Trump Is Toast + 1989

Happy Late Night, my Darling,

Sorry I didn't write the last two nights, but it was just the usual reason of not seeing you on FB. I guess you must be working on projects because you haven't been around much for a week or so. Either that or the stupid FB algorithm doesn't pick up new posts by you, even though I have you listed first in every preset preference they have available. Well, I dunno......but I did see a post this morning (via Lee) that looked like a Sweet Baby post, and that made me happy.  :)

I hope your day was good. Today was Typical Tuesday for me, but yesterday I had a real nice hike on the DeCampos trail going up toward Mission Point. If you recall, I've been working my way back up to the top (where I first went in 2014), and this time I did 31 minutes up, nine minutes more than my first partial hike a few weeks ago. It took me 24 minutes to come down, so I use that time to measure distance because when I come down I'm going fast, and I know my time for a mile that way, from measuring it at CSUN. I figure I did a little over a mile and a half going up the mountain, and when I stopped I could see The Three Trees (nickname for the oaks at the top of the mountain) just a short ways off. So I am loving that trail, and it is a whole lot easier than when I did it two years ago. Next time I will do 35 minutes, and then after that I will go to the top, which is 2.2 miles total. I wanna see if I can make it in 40 minutes. That would be awesome.

It's not a scenic trail except for the view of the mountains all around, but it's a nice steady climb, and more than that it's a good vibe trail. I mean, they all are, but each trail has it's own vibe and this one is my new favorite. Soon I will go to the top on a semi-regular basis.  :)

Well, of course I watched the debate last night, and as we all saw, Trump is a babbling idiot, besides being rude and obnoxious, but when he really lost his composure and started ranting about calling Sean Hannity, and the moderator just let him run his mouth for a couple minutes, I thought, "That's it. He's officially done".

Also, I never thought I'd hear Rosie O'Donnell referenced in a Presidential debate, but then Trump is obsessed with her....

I have gotta say, SB, that I will never be so glad to not have to hear about someone anymore as I will be when this election is over and I don't have to hear about Trump. He is the media's creation and they will throw him in the trash can on November 9th, right after he loses. And then we won't have to hear him, or hear about him, any longer. Except maybe on a reality show. My goodness what a Colossal Jerk he is.

Anyhow, besides my hike I'm just reading my books as always, on my afternoon breaks. Watching "Walking Dead" and "Under The Dome" in the evening, and working on my drawing for September.

I kind of abruptly stopped writing about 1989 but I will return to it at some point, when I have more to say. It all comes down to available information, and I have worked and re-worked the information I have so many times that it's hard to come up with new and insightful analyses that add to the total. I know I will probably never figure out what happened to me without help, but that fact alone tells me what a big deal it is. In reading about the OKC bombing in 1995, the Federal government unleashed a truly enormous investigation into the case, with thousands of agents from FBI and ATF covering every conceivable angle with hundreds of witnesses, even going into life histories of McVeigh and other suspects.

It shows what they can do when they want to - and in the case of OKC (and 9/11) they covered it up, and they almost always do - but they have the power - the monumental power of the USA - to investigate anything in their field of focus, any case that comes before them, and some cases are of their own making, as OKC was.

What Happened In Northridge In 1989 was not a monumental case as was OKC or 9/11, in the sense that it was not nearly as tragic or even on the news, which it was decidedly not. I was kidnapped, and that was not on the news.

But what it was, was more secret. And it involved - through his direct and central participation - a guy who became The President Of The United States Of America.

That's one reason why it's so secret.

But the main reason is because of whatever they - the Feds - were trying to stop. Or test. Or experiment with. Or all three.

I hope one day I will have a professional researcher to help me, somebody of the highest capability like Dr. Painting or Dr. Farrell.

That's all I know for tonight. I will see you in the morning. Post if you can.

I Love You.  xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo  :):)

Lush Concert at The Fonda + Excellent Photo + Love

Happy Late Night, Sweet Baby,

I am just getting home from the Lush concert at the Fonda Theater in Hollywood. It is rare for me nowdays to see a band for the first time, but that was the case tonight. I was a minor fan of Lush in in the early 90s during the Shoegaze craze, but they broke up in 1998 after their drummer died. Then about five years ago I revisited their music and became a huge fan, yet too late to have had a chance to see them, or so I thought. To the fans' delight, they reunited last year and started touring, and tonight I had my first (and hopefully not last) chance to see them.

I imagined they'd be pretty good live, but I didn't know they'd be this good. Big league good, with expert musicianship and loud, clear sound. You've probably heard of them (at least from me mentioning them) and you may or may not have ever heard their music, but anyway it is based around a synchronated double guitar sound that comes out huge in concert. The lead guitarist and main songwriter Emma Anderson could give a lot the male guitarists in any big sonic band a run for his money. Between her and lead singer/rhythm guitarist Miki Berenyi, they create a wall of sound, backed up by dynamic, propulsive bass and drums. The vocals are super-high pitched, like helium, so they float over the music and create that Dreampop sound with added harmonies highlighting and playing off the ever changing chord structures.

So it was one great song after another, 21 in all including encores, with a humongous and crystal clear sound. I took the subway as usual and went by myself as usual. Got down there a little after 8pm because, even though I knew they weren't gonna go on until 10:15, it was a general admission show. There were no reserved seats and I hoped to get a good one by getting there early and I did : dead center, four rows up in the balcony. Unobstructed sight lines, no giants sitting in front of me, haha.

Just a really great show all around, and from a band I'd never seen before.

I hope you had a good day. Your photo of James nearly silhouetted in the colored lights was excellent. The profile angle on his face captured his expression, which gives an added touch to the shot. That and the light on the guitar neck. It's always the little things in every shot, as you know.  :)

I also liked your post (don't remember who from) about the guy in the desert who is wearing a leather jacket. I took that one to be about me, haha, because of my fondness for the heat, which I add to on my hikes by covering up (long sleeve shirt, etc). And one other post from your friend Vaia yesterday could be a Sweet Baby post. I'm not sure but I think so, and of course I love those.

So a good day all in all, and tomorrow morning is church. I've gotta be there in a little over seven hours so I'd better get to sleep.

I will see you in the morning and again after choir practice.

I Love You.  xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo  :):)

Vin Scully + Zen + Life Is Magic

Happy Late Night, Sweet Baby,

I saw a post tonight about a concert in Battle Creek, so I figure you might be there. I say "might be" because I Googled it and it's quite a distance, 320 miles from Madison, but then again you are no stranger to road trips, so maybe you did go.  :)

If you did, then you know the only requirement is that you had a blast.  :)

One requirement and one given : the given is that you got great pics.....

I am writing from home tonight. I am off until Sunday morning, and tonight I got home just in time to see the live tribute, at Dodger Stadium, for our baseball announcer Vin Scully, who I've mentioned before and who is retiring at the end of this season after 67 years. For people my age, and even older, he's been with us our entire lives, and he's more that just a sports announcer, he's a poet as Kevin Costner remarked in his beautiful speech during the ceremony. He's also a phenomenon; I mean, I haven't even been alive for 67 years, much less doing one thing the whole time. I don't think you'd even find a factory or store worker who's been on the job for 67 years. But in Vin's case, what he did was more than a job, it was a calling, and you can file it under the "Life Is Magic" heading because no matter what happened in the world for the last 67 years (think about that amount of time), there was Vin, bringing the game to the city of Los Angeles in the same calm friendly voice year after year......after year.

Hey SB, you know how we've talked about how time can seem to go both fast and slow. Well, the thing that makes baseball such a great sport is that it's like Zen. It's slow, the structure of the game never changes, there is no time limit in a baseball game (unlike all other major sports which are timed), and like Zen, on the surface it seems kind of simplistic. I remember having a Big Realisation one time when I was about 18 or so, and I thought, "why do grown men hit a ball with a stick and then run around in a circle"?

I thought, "doesn't that seem like something 5 year olds would do"?

But of course I wasn't understanding the Zen, or the chess match that is involved. Chess matches also take time, and in taking time, the players also defeat time. They defeat time limits.

There is no Time Limit to a chess match. You can take as much time as you like, even to make a single move. With baseball, you have to move the game along a little faster than that, because the crowd is watching and athletes are involved, but the concept is the same: in baseball, as in chess, you are defeating time, because there are no time limits.

And maybe that is why Vin Scully could announce Dodger games for 67 years, without his voice ever changing, without it ever sounding old, and with the same enthusiasm as when he started. Maybe by doing it year after year, he tapped into that timelessness. I repeat : for us Dodger fans, he has always been with us. For me, it's been my whole life, and he was doing it 11 years before I was born!

Baseball - like chess or Zen - defeats time. And that's what we all want to do, defeat time so we can live forever, like the feeling you get in a romantic movie or watching the Gentleman's game of baseball, the game that never changes.

I was blown away by the Vin Scully tribute tonight. It really settled in deep, in the same way that last night's screening of "Diary Of A Country Priest" did, when I realised I was living inside the movie as I watched it, that it too had a timeless power.

All of this is why I say, and will always say "Life Is Magic", because beyond the 24/7 cycle, beyond the News and the extreme things that are reported every day - usually violent, the kind of things that happen in a split second - is this enormous sense of timelessness that is not seen nor reported but only felt.

That's the magic and also the secret : You've got all the time in the World.....

Always rely on glimpses and intuition, the most powerful guides in your life. /////

Well, that's all I know for tonight, SB. I also watched the final two episodes of "11/22/63" and was blown away because the story is along these same lines. I knew that because I read the book, but they did a tremendous job to bring it to life.

See you in the morning, from home this time. I Love You.  xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo  :):)

New Alcest Song + "Diary Of A Country Priest" at CSUN

Happy Late Night, Sweet Baby,

I hope you had a nice day (and also yesterday). I haven't seen you on FB for a couple days, but I imagine you are probably working on your personal video project, the one with Tina, or maybe a professional job. I did see the Alcest post, and I think that is a great song, with many different guitar textures involved. I especially like the somewhat Pink Floydian picking style he uses on a riff in the second half of the song, and also when they turn up the energy on the closing chord sequence. I am looking forward to this album (obviously!) and it comes out on the same day as the new Opeth, which sounds great too, a fact I no doubt already mentioned. :)

This evening at CSUN, we saw "Diary Of A Country Priest" (Bresson, 1951). Just before the Professor gave his opening talk, I looked around the audience and saw Grimsley sitting about halfway back. He sometimes comes to the screenings, and I had left him a message that this one was not to be missed.

I've mentioned this movie a bunch of times. I have it on dvd, which I bought and first saw in 2005. I've probably seen it 5 times since then (all at home on dvd), but tonight was the first time I've seen it on a movie screen, with cinematic sound as well.

I don't even know what to say about "Diary Of A Country Priest". It is a work of such high art that few examples exist in film to compare it with. Maybe something by Ozu, but even as high reaching as his movies were, they were still anchored in recognisably human drama, the drama of the everyday.

The Priest of "Country Priest", whose parish is in a small French village, encounters real human problems too, though they are a bit more sinister than in the world of Ozu, but the main thing is that he lives in his own world, so close to God and so attuned to human suffering that he takes his parishoners ills upon himself and it makes him sick, literally. His health, already fragile, worsens throughout the movie.

The script is a high concept analysis of how his compounded suffering either delivers the villagers from or reveals them in their true nature. The cast is small, and he basically interacts only with one family and an older priest who tries to offer him guidance.

The lead performance by an actor named Claude Laydu is one of the greatest ever put on film.

The black and white photography is both crystal clear (in the faces) and hazy around the edges, as if you are looking at something mystical, in a beautiful countryside landscape frozen in time.

Every shot is perfection, every line of dialogue imbued with meaning or questioning. The movement of the actors is choreographed unspoken dialogue as well.

It's a heavy movie that on the surface might seem depressing, but you live inside it as you watch it. You are right there with the Priest in every scene, and because the movie is almost literally told through his eyes, and his writings, what you are left with at the end is an uplifting of the spirit that you will not experience in any other film, as least not in this way.

Straight Up : I think it is the greatest film ever made.

I was already heading in that direction after seeing it at home all these years, but seeing it on the big screen tonight clinched it. Not only the greatest movie ever, but a work of art of the highest possible order, an examination of the elevation of the human spirit.

That's all I know for tonight, SB. See you in the morning. Post if you get a chance.

I Love You.  xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo  :):)

Dreamhouse Video Is Excellent + Something In Common

Happy Late Night, my Darling,

Okay, it must be said first thing : The Dreamhouse video is fantastic! Not only does it have a great look to it - color saturation & lighting - but you did your typically excellent job with the editing, and.....you put a ton of stuff in there. So many different things, little things like changing angles and close ups, and most of all, you got the really cool day-to-day stuff in there, like riding in the van, or the band signing shirts at the merch table, and best of all the goofing with the shopping carts in the parking lot.

That is exactly the kind of thing I was talking about when I mentioned the idea of documenting all the "road life" of the band in a photojournalistic way. You packed a lot of imagery into that video, Elizabeth, and it all goes with the driving pulse of the song. You nailed it!  :)

Huge congrats, as always.  :)  And the band is gonna love it.

A Tuesday Golden Agers day for me, so again no hike, but just reading and guitar playing in between car trips, and tonight I watched more of "11/22/63".

I only saw one post today, but it was my favorite kind of post, about love. A couple getting engaged.

I guess you like those kinds of posts, too, Sweet Baby.

That means we have something in common : we both like the idea of engagement.  :):)

Pretty cool, eh?

Well, I'll leave it at that for tonight. It was an inspiring post, however.  :)

I Love You and will see you in the morning.  xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo  :):)

Happy Monday + "11/22/63" + Yahweh the False God (a bit of a tirade, sorry)

Happy Late Night, my Darling,

I hope you had a nice day and a good start to your week. I had to do a double take a little while ago upon seeing your post via Sarah. It's like she's invented her own version of the English language, lol, though after reading her words a couple of times I can see they are actually pretty precise. I think she is talking about judging people by their looks? Well anyway, that was an imaginative way to say it, and I like what she says at the end about creating art.

I had a good day. No hikes, just shopping, and we had weird, monsoon-like weather (95 degrees, overcast and humid) which even brought a bit of rain this afternoon. Tonight I watched the first part of a mini-series called "11/22/63" which you've probably heard of. I think it was produced by Showtime, maybe last year? Anyway, it's adapted from Stephen King's tremendous book of the same name, which I of course read when it came out in 2011. It's one of his best books, and from the first episode of the show I will say that they've done an excellent job so far, especially in the art direction, which in this case means the "period look" of 1960. They've got it detailed down to a T. The casting is just right as well, with James Franco and Chris Cooper in the lead roles. It is ostensibly about the JFK assassination (hence the numerical title), but in this case - because it's Stephen King - there is a supernatural aspect : Time Travel.

Most of all, they are finally doing SK right by devoting enough time to telling one of his major stories on film. His books are often over 500 pages and in the case of "11/22/63", over 800 pages. That's one reason why so many film and tv versions of his books have been lackluster, or outright failures, because you can't fit them into a two hour format. Showtime did it right, though. This one is almost 8 hours long, broken into eight episodes, plenty of time to tell the full story without rushing it. And it is great so far.

I saw one other post, the cartoon about the gun-toting Texas "Christian" vs. the Muslim Extremist. I have to say I agreed with the irony in everything they said to one another, and it is easy to see they are two sides of the same coin.

I only wish that someday, maybe soon, that the American idea of "Christianity" will not be represented by a gun-toting Texas redneck or any other caricature. I mean, I can certainly see why it is represented that way in what I will call the left wing psyche. It is because those so-called "Christians" make all the noise, with the handful of issues they are vehement about (gun rights, abortion, Republican politics). Over the years of my life, I have become somewhat more tolerant of the views of that side. I am not in favor of abortion (and I don't think anyone is) but I believe it should still be a final option, to be used, hopefully in the future, only in rare cases. But I see the intolerance and lack of analysis inherent in the "Caricature Christian" position. The same is true for my position on gun rights. While I personally detest guns, and would not want to own one myself, I can understand why some people would. That particular issue comes down to fear. It used to be that, perhaps if you lived in a bad neighborhood, or in a rural area far from police protection, you might feel the need to have a gun. But these days, largely because of the TV news focus on violence, many people have become paranoid. That is what is depicted in that cartoon, two paranoid men of different cultures (neither of whom have ever intellectually reasoned out their philosophies) who have more in common than they have differences, and both mitigate their paranoia by standing behind a gun for "protection".

I recently read an excellent book by Dr. Farrell and his co-author Dr. Scott deHart. It is called "Yahweh : The Two Faced God". In short, it is an expose about a so-called "God" named Yahweh. Yahweh is exposed in The Book Of Exodus in the Old Testament as a vengeful, threatening character who does terrible things to the people of Israel and Egypt. Terrible things, like having all the first born babies killed.

I had never read The Book Of Exodus before I read Dr. Joe's book (he is an Eastern Orthodox Christian), and for most of my life I have never been a Bible person to begin with. I have never had it in me to believe that stories in a book were the meaning, prophecy and law of life. As you know, I do analyse everything I come into contact with, back and forth and back again. It's just my nature; to question, to seek truth.

And I have never found any "words to live by" in what I've heard from the Old Testament. Now, it may have historical value. I don't know. But after reading "Yahweh: The Two Faced God", I can tell you that I don't believe in Yahweh. Yahweh may have been a real character alive at that time, and may have been a non-human giant (Nephilim) or some similar creature, who because of his physical stature could threaten the populace.

But he was not the God that has created all you can see. Who created the planets, the sky, the fire and water, the mountains, the oceans, the plants and animals, the Music and Art, and all the beautiful thoughts we have. The God that Created The Love.

Yahweh is not that God, not hardly.

But because many ill-informed "Christians" are programmed to adhere strictly to every word in the Old Testament, they do believe in a false God called Yahweh.

That's why it is my hope that this media representation of "Christianity" will be replaced soon by something more thoughtful, which is a contemplation of the words of Jesus Christ.

Just his words and actions.

Jesus never mentions Yahweh, but he does tell people to beware of false Gods.

As a kid, I was raised in Sunday school, and in the Episcopal church, til I was nine years old.

But one thing I never, ever understood - never! - was when people described "Christians" as "God-fearing".

What I could feel, in my soul, since I was old enough to think and feel, was that God was loving.

That is why I say Life Is Magic, because all I have to do, each and every day, is look around at the sky, and the mountains, and the plants, animals, etc........and even the Humans too (especially the Humans), to know that God is Love.

Some humans don't get this, which is why we have a false presentation of a "God" named Yahweh, and an adherence to The Old Testament, which Jesus rebuked.

Jesus said that we only need two commandments.

"Love Him, and Love One Another". Pretty simple, no gun pointing involved.

Anyway, that's my rambling point of view on the subject.

I don't call myself a "Christian", btw. I don't call myself anything, because a label is a finite definition and I am not finite. I generally keep my religious and spiritual beliefs to myself (or I share them with you). But if somebody asks me, what do you believe in, or do you believe in God, I will say, "I believe in Jesus Christ".

And that is because His words and deeds are the ones that have always felt right to me in my soul.

That is why I hope one day people will come to see "Christianity" as a representation of the life of Jesus Christ, and not of some Old Testament False and Violent "God" named Yahweh.

That's all for tonight, Sweet Baby. Sorry for the tirade, and again, I agree with everything in that cartoon. It's just that I want to change the image. :)

Most of all, I Love You.  xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo  :):)

I will see you in the morn.  :)

Lions Game I Prevail Song + Rams + Rappaport Kidnap Evidence (1989)

Happy Late Night, Sweet Baby,

I don't know if you are still in Milwaukee or back home, but I hope you had a good day either way. I saw your post this morning that they played an I Prevail song before the Detroit Lions game. That is awesome! Your bands are getting major exposure lately. Super duper cool, and also I've gotta say "wow" (because as you know sometimes that's all you can say).  :)

I had a good day myself, though busy. I woke up late and had to really hustle to make it to church on time, but we did, and we sang a good rendition of "Ride On King Jesus" (or you can call it "Right On, King Jesus" if you want to....). After choir practice I drove out to Burbank to take my sister shopping. It was well over 100 degrees, and she didn't do too well in the heat, so I don't think we'll try that again, although it should be cooler next time I see her. Anyhow, when I finished with Sophie I drove straight back to Pearl's by 4:30, so that was my day until evening. I got to listen to the Rams game during my drive. It was their first regular season game in the Coliseum since 1980, and they had 90,000 fans there. Best of all, the Rams stuck it to the Seahawks and made up for last week's debacle. Yeah.....sports, SB. But I am a lifelong Rams fan.  :)

No movie tonight, just an episode of "One Step Beyond, then I worked on my September drawing while listening to a cd called "Vienna 1709" by soprano Hana Blazikova, who has one of the greatest voices I've ever heard.

Well, last night I mentioned, in regards to 1989, that Mr. Rappaport knew my name just as "BC" had. Though I'd never met him prior to when he came to my door that terrible night, he somehow knew my name, "Adam", even though it is my middle name. And during the time I was in his psychotic presence, he called me by name, over and over. So again, someone who knew me had to have told him my name.

Mr. Rappaport had a vendetta against me and it was almost childlike in it's apparent resentment of jealousy. On a side note, I have mentioned his distinctive high, whiny voice. Though he is a big man, certainly bigger than me, he has a child's voice, and it was very pronounced in his anger toward me. Petulant is the word to describe it.

One thing he said in one of his rants was very interesting, and I wrote about this in my book. He got all worked up and told me that "everybody" hated me. The impetus for his rage was that I had apparently messed something up for him, and for others, some plan he had for the Labor Day weekend. I wrote about it in my book, so I won't go into it now, but his exact quote was : "It's 'Hate Adam Week' ......everybody's gonna 'Hate Adam"!

He was almost manic as he said this, very worked up and agitated.

A couple of things are evident here, besides the fact that he knew my name. The first thing is his use of the word "everybody". That is who is "going to hate me".

Who does he mean by everybody?

Does he even mean fellow CSUN professors Ray Tippo and Eugene Carpenter, who participated later on that week in The Attack Of The Ex-Neighbors?

Perhaps, but also perhaps not. I have no idea, really. The ex-neighbors did not live on our street any longer, for over a decade, so the only way he could have known them was through CSUN, and I am not sure Eugene Carpenter was still a professor there in 1989, though Ray Tippo was.

The other thing that is evident was his use of the word "week".

He said, "It's 'Hate Adam Week".

That indicates that he knew of an ongoing vendetta against me . Something that was lasting, or was gonna last all "week".

Something that had been organised. This possibility of an organised, behind-the-scenes vendetta by people who resented me and/or my parents is something we have been exploring in these recent blogs about 1989. 

Jared Rappaport, during one of his psychotic tirades, went on to reveal that he knew more personal details about me. The most important to him, the one that seemed to really piss him off and add to his sense of righteousness, was the fact that I had not - at the time - had a history of steady employment. There is no doubt that in my 20s, I was not employed for most of that decade.

Usually, that would seem to be the business of the unemployed individual and perhaps his family and those closest to him, if indeed his unemployment was causing them problems as well as for himself.

I have never heard of a situation in which an individual's unemployment caused a problem for his neighbor, and one so difficult that it enraged the neighbor to kidnap him.

But that was one of Jared's rationales for what he was doing to me.

I "didn't work", in his words, and I had messed up his plans for that weekend, so according to him I was getting everything I deserved, even though he'd never met me before.

He'd never met me, and yet he seemed to know a lot about me. And, he was enraged against me.

And he said that "everyone" else was, too. 

"Everyone is gonna hate Adam".

"It's 'Hate Adam Week' ".

In addition to whatever else was going on, with drug deals and other "situations", it is clear that some "behind-the-scenes" vendetta was arranged against me, by nosy people in the neighborhood who didn't like me because I "didn't work".

Now, there are nosy people in every neighborhood all over the world. There is gossip. I participate in it myself, though I hope to a lesser degree than that which is poisonous. But even those who do participate in such a poisonous, meaning hateful, degree of gossip generally do not act out their hate.

But Jared Rappaport did. He could not control his anger toward me, or which he directed toward me (because I never knew him and had done nothing to him), and that is called "transference" or "projection".

"Projection" is often engaged in by someone who is feeling fearful or anxious or guilty about something they have done, and by projecting their anger to another person, they hope to transfer the guilt or anxiety to that person.

Jared Rappaport was, and is, as sick as they come. He should have been locked up long ago.

But in his statement that he made to me while I was his prisoner : "It's 'Hate Adam Week', everyone's gonna hate Adam' ", he revealed not only his own anger and anxiety, but that of others who "hated" me, simply because I had inadvertently interrupted their weekend plans.

In Rappaport's case, he may have been aware of the overall situation as it had unfolded before he came to my house to kidnap me. He may have been aware of drug deals, and though I doubt he'd have known Howard Schaller, he may have been aware of what happened in the parking lot at Northridge Hospital.

Still, I think by "everybody" - the people who were gonna "hate" me - he meant people in the neighborhood, too. And also people I knew, and know.

In May of 1989, a close friend of my brother's was making a student film at 9032 (our house). I believe he may have met Jared Rappaport during that film shoot, and I believe that because I am certain that he was inside Rappaport's house toward the end of my ordeal there. He is a guy with secrets to hide. Not a bad guy, per se, but he would have been a gullible guy back then, and succeptible to the persuasions of a psychopath.

"Hey....are you guys shooting a movie"?

"Yeah, it's a student film. It's my Final for UCLA Film School".

"Oh really? Wow, that's a coincidence, because I teach film here at CSUN".

Oh wow. Okay. Yeah, that is a coincidence".

"My name's Jared. I just moved here next door a few months ago. Do you live here"?

"No. This is my friend's house. I'm just using it for my movie".

I think that was my brother's friend's introduction to Jared Rappaport. I could be wrong, but I don't think I am, and I detail it in my book. If I am wrong, I am not far off. Somebody in that film party met the "new neighbor" Rappaport, who then ingratiated himself into their lives, and manipulated them into his "games".

He was older, more "sophisticated", and he was a psychopath who can put on masks.

And that Summer, in 1989, I believe he enticed my brother's friend, and through that guy he enticed others, into playing his games. Enticed or tricked.

I could be wrong, but there has to be some reason Jared Rappaport was so extremely angry at me. I didn't know anything about whatever he was up to, but apparently I'd disrupted it. And he was mad enough to kidnap me, and torture me, so that he could make me pay.

And there you have it.  /////

See you in the morn. I Love You.  xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo  :):)

Rock The Green + "This Sporting Life" + DeCampos Trail + My Name (1989)

Happy Late Night, Sweet Baby,

I hope you had a blast at Rock The Green! I had to Google it to discover that it is more than a music fest but also has an environmental cause behind it. Very cool, and in the pix on their website it looks like a huge event. I am guessing you had a band there, and that was a cute pic you posted. I like the facepaint. :)

You are sure putting in the miles with your work, I know Milwaukee is at about 100 miles away, right? Iam ready for another road trip myself, but it might be Spring before I get to it. Man, I wish I could go to the Desert Trip festival, coming up in early October. But there's no way, unfortunately. Oh well. I really wanted to see Paul McCartney most of all, and he will surely be back again.

Tonight I watched a movie called "This Sporting Life" (1963) which I heard of because Bill Nelson posted about it on Facebook. It is apparently one of his favorite movies ever, and because he is one of my favorite musicians and all-around artists, I decided to check it out. Plus it's on Criterion......

Well, it was really good, but very heavy. The legendary Richard Harris stars as a rugby player who is more or less angry at the world. As a side note, in the early 60s there was a school of filmmaking in England called the Angry Young Man style. These were films about disaffected young men with a lot of existential angst railing against the class-consciousness of British society. It was kind of like their version of the films of Marlon Brando and James Dean over here in America. Anyway, Richard Harris was a truly great actor, and in this movie he becomes a star player for his team but resents the wealthy owners. He is in love with his widowed landlady, a tormented soul herself who rebuffs him on and off throughout the film. His own boorish behavior doesn't help.

It's a very involving film to watch, though a bit overlong and not a film that would bear repeat viewings, I don't think, at least not for me because it's so, so, melodramatic and heavy.

I mean, gimme some romance or a happy ending or at least something to break up the torment, lol.

But that was the Angry Young Man school of the 60s, in British filmmaking. I guess they had a lot to be pissed about.  :)

I had another nice hike this afternoon going up the Mario DeCampos trail toward Mission Point (aka "The Three Trees"). I wrote about this trail a couple weeks ago, and that time I went a mile up. This time, I went a mile and a quarter, which is a little more that halfway. It took me 27 minutes to go up, and 20 minutes to come back down. Not too shabby! The first time I went there (2014) I went all the way to the top, but it took me 65 minutes. Now I could probably do it in 50 or less, and then it would take about 35 to come back down, a piece of cake compared to my first try, which seemed epic back then, and it still is because it's an incline the whole way up for 2.2 miles, until you have climbed 1200 feet. I like it because it's now another "quickie hike" for me, and also because it's a workout, but mostly because there is a super good vibe on that trail, probably due to the man it is named after - Dr. DeCampos himself. He apparently used to walk to the top all the time. He lived nearby and loved the trail, and after he passed away they named it after him. So the vibe is good and I wanna start going up on a semi-regular basis.....

Tomorrow is church and choir. We are singing an easy one, a Spiritual called "Ride On King Jesus". After choir practise I am gonna take my sister Sophie shopping in Burbank, so I should be back by 3:30 or so. And I will also be around before church.  :)

I will resume writing about 1989 tomorrow night. As I go through the evidence and scenarios, which I've been doing for at least a month now, it becomes a more stringent process of boiling things down. And it all requires a ton of focus as I've said before, so I kind of have to switch from "daily thinking" to "1989", say while I am on my walk or otherwise in a musing mode, and then I have to decide what bit of evidence - and what angle of that evidence - I am gonna examine each night. Most nights I am successful, but as I write night after night the evidence is reduced.....

Anyhow, last night I mentioned that "BC" called me by my middle name, which is the name I am known by to family and friends. We examined his usage of my middle name and concluded that he could not have known that by simply "coming into the situation cold". Instead, someone must have used my middle name - my main name as it were - in his presense. That's how he knew I was called Adam and not James, which is my first name.

Well, BC wasn't the only one to do that.

The insane Mr. Rappaport also called me Adam. Over and over again. Even though I did not know him, and had never met him (he and his family had moved to 9033 Etiwanda in late 1988), he seemed to know a lot about me. And one of the things he knew was that I am called "Adam".

That's what everybody calls me since I was born.

The only people who call me James, as stated last night, are people who don't know me. And they call me that because it is usually in an "official capacity', after I have filled out a form at, say, the DMV or somewhere. My apt. manager calls me James because that's how I sign my rent checks.

But Jared Rappaport, whom I had never met in my life on the night he knocked on the front door of my house at 9032, called me Adam once he got me inside his house.

How did he know that was my name; what I am called?

That's a good question, and I will explore it a little bit tomorrow night. There really isn't much to explore, but anyway......

See you in the morn, SB. I Love You.  xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxo  :):)

Loving Your Job Is Awesome + He Called Me By Name (1989)

Happy Late Night, my Darling,

That was a great post this morning, of the guy with the sign that said "I Love My Job". That says it all, I think, and if you love your job (and I'm sure that you do) then that makes me happy.  :) You are so good at it, a natural really, and you are following your bliss as they say, and this is the way it was meant to be. People should be happy in life, or at least strive for happiness, and when you love what you do for a living, that's a big part of the equation right there.  :)

Well, because of the nature of my job - which I am both fortunate and grateful to have - I am very tired tonight. I know I say that a lot, but it's become more common of late because Pearl's hours get turned around. She can be awake much of the night and sleep during the day, and when that happens, then my hours are turned around too. I can cope with it pretty well because I keep in shape, and I still get a ton of stuff done in my free time by maintaining a schedule and adhering to strict time management. Still, it adds up and I get tired at this time of night. Therefore, tonight I will not be examining 1989 in any depth, though I will return to it tomorrow.

For tonight, I will just add one small, strange tidbit. Before I add it, I will provide a disclaimer about a man I will call BC. In my book I named him over and over again, as he is a main protaganist; he is the "famous man" I have referred to in these recent blogs. My disclaimer is that I realise how off-the-wall it sounds when I mention him. It sounds ridiculous, like a typical "paranoid conspiracy theory". I know that as well as anyone. 

But the only problem in my case is that it is 100% true. If I took a polygraph, I'd pass.

In my book, I relate that believability, per se, is not what I'm after. My bottom line is telling what happened to me, regardless of whether anyone believes it or not. But it's true, and that's why I need to tell it, and anyone who knows me also knows that I am not a paranoid conspiracy nut.

Just a Truth Nut, that's all. And in my favor, in this particular case, is that no one will even stand up to tell me I am wrong. I was called crazy, years ago, but no one has said anything at all for the past decade, since I wrote my book.

That is my disclaimer, concerning BC. I know how crazy it sounds that he was there, but......

He was there. He was in charge of the entire situation, and others could testify to this as well if they were so inclined.

So, now the Tidbit. It's just a minor detail, but when I first encountered him, at the end of the Rappaport situation, he knew me by name.

He talked to me just as you've heard him on TV, in that friendly way as if he knows you personally. In this case it was more specific, and more intense (and his temper against bad guys is a whole 'nuther story), but what I noticed, in retrospect, was that he called me "Adam".

My first name is James.

The only people who call me Adam (my middle name) are people who know me personally, and they call me that because "Adam" is really my name, if a name is what you are known by.

The only people who call me James are people who do not know me personally. I like my first name just fine, but I have been called Adam since I was born, or at least since I can remember.

At the time, BC was not President Of The United States. In 1989, he was just the "Governor Of Arkansas", whatever that means in context of other things he might have been, other jobs he might have had, other hidden positions he might have held.

This is important to mention, because in 1989, nobody outside Arkansas really had ever heard of BC. He was not yet a national figure.

But you can be sure he was known in Washington. He was said to have been recruited right out of college by the CIA, and in Arkansas, when he was Governor, there was the infamous Mena Airport cocaine trafficking operation, run by the CIA. George Bush The First, who was President in 1989, was once a CIA director.

At any rate, what I am saying is that, when I first encountered him - and I only "remember it back" in memory because of the amnesia I suffered - I did not know who he was. What I do remember is that he was very personable, like he was your best friend who had known you all your life.

And he talked to me that way, as if he had known me all his life.

And he called me "Adam" instead of "James".

If he had only heard about me from a crime report taken from that evening, he would have called me "James", the first name on my ID.

But he called me "Adam".

I didn't introduce myself. I was way too out of it to have done that.

So I figure that the only way he could have known that I was called "Adam" is if somebody else told him.

Somebody who knew me personally.

But who?  ////

That's all for tonight, SB.  See you in the morn.  I Love You.  xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo  :):) 

Bresson at CSUN & Using Dialectics To Analyse The Start Of What Happened (1989)

Happy Late Night, Sweet Baby,

Tonight we saw the second film in the Robert Bresson retrospective at the CSUN Cinematheque : "Les Dames du Bois de Boulogne" (1945). I had seen it before, about a year ago, but this is my first time seeing any of the Bresson films in a theater, and it hit me tonight that "Les Dames" is a perfect film. Every scene means something, every bit of dialogue and plot leads to the next bit, everything connects and nothing is wasted. Every shot connects to the next one like an unfolding puzzle. Every actor nails his or her role. It's perfection.

It also looks beautiful, with shimmering black & white photography (the final scene looks positively spiritual), and the story is both tragic and redemptive. To describe it would take too long (a tale of vengeful love), but it is a 10 out of 10 on all counts, and one of the stars is an actress named Maria Casares, who was also in what many consider to be the greatest French film ever made, "Children Of Paradise" by director Marcel Carne (made also in 1945). I have that one on dvd and it is epic. Well, I could go on and on about Robert Bresson. He's certainly in my Top 5 filmmakers, and possibly #1, though just as with music it's a tough call to put 'em in order. If I had to roughly list my Top 5 filmmakers, I'd have to put Bresson in there, and Ozu, and Tarkovsky, and David Lynch (who may also be my #1), and for the fifth choice.......hmmm........ maybe Antonioni, or Satyajit Ray, or Orson Welles.

But those first four are definitely in there. Next week, we are gonna see "Diary Of A Country Priest" which I've seen multiple times. It might just be the greatest film I've ever seen, so I'm looking forward to seeing it on the big screen.  :)

I hope your day was good, and that all projects are proceeding according to schedule, and to your satisfaction.

I am still writing about 1989 and will keep doing so until I am "all written out" I suppose. When I wrote my book in 2006, the effort was all about telling the story. There was quite a bit of evidence analysis even then, but in the ten years that have passed I have kind of boiled things down, and I've also had new questions pop up that I hadn't initially thought of, some of which I've looked at in these recent blogs.

Every day of my life, to some degree, I wonder what happened to me. I think I probably remember about 70% of it, but I wonder about the parts I don't remember, and most of all I wonder why it happened.

Why did it happen?

And the only way I can even try to answer that question is to start at the beginning and go step by step and look at every action forensically, and then run that evidence back and forth through the wringer, as we have discussed before. I've learned that it's never enough just to come to a conclusion about a bit of evidence by passing over it a single time. While it's true that one's first impressions are usually the ones leading in the right direction, it is still very important to look at all possible angles of any given action in a situation that one is examining.

Also, in reading about the philosophy of dialectics in Dr. Joe's books, which boils down to a comparison of opposites, which are then reduced to a final "truth", I find that philosophy somewhat helpful in reducing the massive amount of details of the 1989 Experience so that I can focus on the most important ones.

When I start at the beginning, I say to myself, "well, how did it start"? The answer : "it started by me, going down to the apartment building".

Then, using the dialectical method of opposites, I say to myself. "what if I had never gone down to the apartment building"? Remember that what I am looking for is an answer as to why things got so weird.

I answer my question by saying, "well, I imagine that if I never went down to the apartment building that evening, several things would not have happened".

There would have been no confrontation, so...

I would not have been injured, so...

I would not have been taken to the hospital, so...

Howard Schaller would not have attacked our car at the hospital. Nor would he have attacked a person who got out of the car. He would not have even been at the hospital.

Finally, at least as far as the first night is concerned, I would not have been taken back to the apartment building to spend the night alone in an empty apartment, as directed by a government agent already on the scene. On the scene less than perhaps three hours before I went down to the apartment building in the first place.

Keep in mind how huge that is. Sorry, but I have to capitalise it.

THAT IS HUGE.

So let's use dialectics again. Let's say I don't go down to the apartment building that night. That's the opposite, or the dialectic, of what I did do.

But if I don't go down to the apartment building, then what happens to the government agent(s)?

We know what happens to everybody else, including the violent Howard Schaller. And that is that nothing happens to them. If I don't go down, and raise a ruckus, they don't react. They stay at home and go about whatever they were gonna do that night.

But we are now examining the government agents. Remember, as far as I saw that night, police were not present. The only authority was Federal.

So my question is : if I had not gone down to the apartment building that night, where would the Federal agents have been? Would they have been back at their office? This was nighttime, so probably not. Would they have been "off duty"? Perhaps, to whatever extent Federal agents are ever off duty. They are probably on call all the time, I imagine, although like anybody else they must go home for dinner and to sleep, etc.

So that's my question : If I had not gone down to the apartment building that night, on September 1st 1989, and had just stayed home instead, then where would the Federal agents have been?

They couldn't have been "at the office" going about their work, because the time was about 10pm on a Friday. And it is doubtful they were simply "called in from home", because their response time was very fast indeed.

So where were they? 

Probably surveilling the situation to begin with.

I walked into a situation that was already being surveilled.

And THAT IS HUGE. HUGE, I TELL YOU. (sorry about the caps, but I gotta use 'em).

Now, it is very, very important that I remind you that what was being surveilled was much more than any criminal enterprise or action. They certainly weren't using Federal government resources to surveil some young people in an apartment house, or if they were, it was part of some much larger program that had nothing to do with drugs, the inference of which is concluded by Howard Schaller's appearance at the hospital that evening. On the surface, one would think drugs was the reason for the survellance.

But it couldn't have been the sole reason because too many other things happened during the 12 Day Period, including some that were supernatural and some that were otherworldly.

But when I use dialectics (a comparison of opposites) I see that the Federal government had surveillance in place before I ever went down to that apartment building. Had I stayed at home, their surveillance would have remained quiet, unseen.

I don't know exactly what they were surveilling, but because of the secrecy that resulted, it could not possibly have been a mere drug deal.

I think it was something much, much bigger......../////

That's all for tonight. See you in the morn, SB. I Love You. xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo  :):)

Awesome & Awesomer + Mindblowing Revelations in The McVeigh Book

Happy Late Night, my Darling,

I hope the sales are still coming in strong for the Versus Me album. I saw James' post about it, and it's great news. You know, it would be really cool if those guys could get on a national tour at some point, even as part of a festival or something. It reminds me of what happened with you - no sooner did you graduate from Art School and turn pro, than everything just took off for you, almost all at once. The same thing seems to be happening for James & Co., if I am not mistaken he said they are a new band. And, they are taking off.

So everything is awesome and poised to get awesomer!  :)

Today I took Pearl to see the foot doctor, which meant that The Kobester came along for his L.A. River walk. Although he can't venture as far down the pathway as far he used to, he still loves it, and this morning was simply gorgeous outside. I also went up to Aliso at 3pm for a Quickie Hike. No cam this time, I figured I'd give the spiders a break today, haha.  :)

Shows watched : two episodes of "Under The Dome" this evening. I will return to watching films again soon, but right now I am hooked on these TV shows.....  :)

Tonight I am Beyond Super Mega Tired, but I will continue my 1989 saga anyway,oma by rambling on a bit without a particular focus. It will probably be Tangent City, but I will start by saying that I am blowing my mind on this book about Timothy McVeigh by Dr. Wendy S. Painter. She can tell the story a lot better than I can, and it is very involved, but McVeigh told many stories, to many different people, of differing versions of his role in the Oklahoma City bombing. One of the versions was that he was an undercover agent for the Special Forces branch of the Army, and that he had been selected for a mission to infiltrate White Supremist groups suspected of potential terrorism. He had been a top soldier, that much is certain. There is inconclusive testimony as to whether or not he had actually been selected for a black-ops mission, and there is no proof whatsoever that he was. But there is some interesting evidence, and it can be found by reading the book, which I am doing. It is one of the most brilliant cases of research I have encountered.

At any rate, the author notes that in the late 1980s and early 1990s (around the time George Bush The First came into office) changes were made in the United States' Posse Comitatus Act, which was enacted in 1878 and which stated, among other things, that the military of the United States could not act in civilian affairs. The military could not arrest America citizens or involve itself in localised (city, county ot state) law enforcement affairs. But when George Bush became President, this began to change because of his "enthusiasm" for the War On Drugs. Changes were made to Posse Comitatus, in which the National Guard (and limited Army personnel) were now allowed to participate in drug interdiction actions, usually along the United States borders with Mexico and Canada,  but also in major drug trafficking actions against organised crime groups here in this country.

One of the groups the National Guard was authorised to act against, usually in concordance with local or state police officials, was the various factions of the White Power movement, who were not only involved with drug sales but also, in some factions, had plans to steal armaments from Army depots. This was discovered because both the FBI and the US Army had agents who had infiltrated these White Power groups, which were gaining membership and becoming high profile in the 1990s. The White Power groups were very much against the government, and the agents from the FBI and the Army who had infiltrated, reported back that some of these groups had plans to steal armaments - bomb components, artillery, etc. McVeigh claimed, among other things, to have been an undercover Army agent involved in such an interdiction.

I mention all of this because, waaay back in 1998 or so - almost twenty years ago - I used to tell anyone who would listen that The Weird Stuff of 1989 ("What Happened In Northridge") happened because a group of thugs stole a Very Unusual Weapon from the military.

I told this story with no knowledge of the program McVeigh mentioned, with no knowledge whatsoever besides my own memory and intuition. I told this to people almost twenty years ago.

At the Wilbur Wash, I saw a soldier - a "civilian looking" soldier (like a Special Forces guy, with long hair and a jumpsuit instead of a uniform), and he had what I have always called a "backpack weapon". This is beyond weird, I realise, but true. To make a very long story short, I saw - and I am sure others must have seen this too - I saw the soldier fire this weapon at a helicopter.

The weapon shot a beam of white light that looked like "donuts on a rope", a straight line of incandescent light - whiter than white - with "smoke ring" circles of the same brightness around the center line.

It fired this beam in short bursts, and it looked like something out of a science fiction movie, except that your brain was acknowledging it as 100% real before you yourself were.

Your brain knew it was real while you were going "wtf" in scared silence.

Later on, in a chaotic scene, two famous govenment men showed up with the military in tow. A man who was once Governor of California got out of a truck full of soldiers who wore tan cammo.

The way I told the story in 1998, prompted only by my memories and my intuition, I always maintained that these soldiers in the truck were from the California National Guard. And the guy in charge of them was out former Governor.

They were there, at the Wilbur Wash, to - among other thngs - recover the exotic light-ray weapon. And of course the famous man from the Federal government was there too. The Wilbur Wash was crazier than crazy, so far out that even if I could remember it all I'd have trouble describing it.

But my point tonight is that, in the McVeigh book, we see that the rules of Posse Comitatus were changed under Bush The First, allowing the military (meaning National Guard) to participate in undercover actions against criminal groups, and we see that certain White Power groups had plans to steal military armaments.

When I told my story, twenty years ago, I never could figure out how a bunch of criminals like Howard Schaller or Gary Patterson could get ahold of a weapon like the one I'd seen. It was something that only George Lucas could dream of. And the thing is that neither of those guys was even present at Wilbur Wash. But other criminal thugs were there, and so was this weapon, which was initially in the hands of what I have always described as a "rogue soldier", a guy who was in league with the criminals. He shot the weapon at a military helicopter that arrived on the scene, and it crashed in a field next to the wash.

But when I told my story, I only knew what I had witnessed in 1989. I knew nothing of what I am now reading in the McVeigh book, of secret Army programs to infiltrate White Power groups who planned to steal weapons from the military.

And yet, that is exactly the thing I talked about, all by myself.

Initially, I thought that was the overarching reason for What Happened In Northridge, that the government was trying to recapture a secret weapon that had been stolen, and because the weapon was secret, the whole operation to recover it had to be secret and ultra-classified.

Nowdays I think the Whole Thing is even more complex than that, but the Secret Weapon was certainly a part of it - it definitely happened - and I reported on it from memory, almost twenty years before I read about similar government authorised actions in the 1990s in the McVeigh book.

My story has never changed, since 1997. /////

And that's all I know for tonight. I will see you in the morn, SB. I Love You.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo  :):)

Great News About Bands + Amnesia Proves What Happened (1989)

Happy Late Night, Sweet Baby,

I loved the pic, via Jane Love, of the model covered in a Spider Web! I just saw it a few minutes ago, and of course I have a soft spot for spider webs as you know. So that was absolutely perfect.  :)

I am also thrilled for you and your bands. I saw two posts, one regarding The Fine Constant where Steve said that something "sick" just happened for them. "Sick" meaning "Totally Bitchin" in today's terminology, haha. But that's fantastic for those guys, whatever the news is, and also I saw James' Versus Me post about the chart positions of their new song. I looked at the chart and they are right up there next to bands like Black Sabbath and Ghost. That's beyond cool! And both bands are your bands, SB. I know I keep saying it every night, but it just makes me very, very happy how well things are going, for you and for your bands. Congratulations are reiterated to everyone involved, and remember......Life Is Magic.

Somebody once said that a while back.....   :)

Today was Tuesday, which meant Golden Agers and shopping rather than a hike, but it was a beautiful day all the same. Tonight I watched "The Walking Dead". I am up to Episode Seven of Season Six, and the writing is getting a bit better thank goodness, so I won't throw in the towel just yet.....

I am still working on the amnesia angle regarding 1989, and it is significant that while I have no proof of anything I have said, in any of my recollected testimonies, that it is the amnesia itself that provides powerful evidence that Something Incredibly Weird Happened. Of course, I have always given my word of honor that the weird stuff is true as well (and it is), but when looking at the amnesia, it is instructive to return to the initial event at the apartment building. We will refer to it simply as a "domestic dispute" and leave it at that, even though a few other individuals were involved besides those in the dispute.

First let us say that, though some of the Weirder Aspects of 1989 would be difficult to verify without the help of specific government officials who were present, or without the corroborative testimony of many who were witness to these events as well, it would be much easier to verify the actuality of the initial event. The initial event was not weird, per se, at least as it began. It was a "domestic dispute", which as it wore on included the arrival at the door of the apartment of two street thugs, who showed up to threaten me and others inside. In retrospect after much detective work, this indicated that some type of drug dealing was involved, though not with me.

At any rate, the Initial Event is the only memory in the 12 Days of What Happened that exists for me in real time. By that I mean that the memory has continuity. It has a "before" and an "after", and it exists in my mind in a memory stream just like the everyday memories of ordinary life. Think of what you did today, and put everything you did in order and remember it. That is what I am talking about. The past is not "what is happening" but rather "What Happened". And when you can recall old memories in a stream, with continuity, then you can remember them realistically, in real time. In that way, they don't "seem like a dream".

So therefore, the initial event exists as the most "real-time" memory in all of What Happened. It is also the most "ordinary" event in that there was nothing out of the ordinary involved, at least at first. But even up to the end of that first night, despite the arrival of the thugs, and the attack by Howard Schaller at Northridge Hospital, and even the arrival and participation of Mary (you know who I mean), there was still nothing so out of the ordinary to be called truly beyond weird. Truly Beyond Weird came later.

So my point is that, though I cannot prove the actuality of the Weirder Events (besides my own testimony) the Initial Event is entirely provable. All you would have to do would be to gather the principles in a court of law, subject them to polygraph tests and have them swear under oath. You could round up other witnesses such as the apartment manager, if you could track her down, which wouldn't be that difficult in this modern age. If you did all this, you would have proof way beyond a reasonable doubt that the Initial Event did indeed happen. And of course everybody knows it did. Not just the principles, but also all of my friends. Gossip travels fast, and where gossip is concerned - especially gossip that is dangerous to the gossipers - so is such gossip kept secret at all costs. But that doesn't mean they don't know the truth, because of course they do.

So, even though it will never happen now, a court of law would have proved the Initial Event with ease back in 1989, at the time it happened

And here's the important point. If that was all that had happened, just the "domestic dispute", then the court of law would have dealt out punishment, most likely some community service and probation, maybe a couple days in jail for whomever.

And if I had amnesia, because of being stun gunned, then it would have been normal - if all that had happened was the Initial Event - for me to wake up in the hospital, or at home, and then for people to tell me what had happened.

"Ad, you are in the hospital. Last night you were involved in a domestic dispute".

And that would have ended the amnesia right away. Short term amnesia, the type a person in an accident might experience. When a person is in an accident, or a fight, and they wake up in the hospital unable to recall what happened, their friends and family and doctors and maybe even policemen are there to tell them what happened to them.

"You were in an accident" or "You were in a fight"......"Don't you remember what happened last night"?

That would be a normal set of circumstances concerning a person's amnesia who had been injured in a domestic dispute such as the one I was in. It would ordinarily be a police matter, and the injured person would wake up in a hospital being informed of what had happened to him. Then his brief amnesia would be over.

But my amnesia lasted four years. Nobody ever told me about what happened at the apartment building, and I did not remember it myself until October 1993.

My question is this : if nothing else happened besides the Initial Event at the apartment building, then why the four year amnesia? Why did nobody tell me, "hey Ad, you were injured last night at the apartment house"?

"You don't remember it, but that's what happened to you. But you are okay, so no worries"

That's what would have happened, if the Initial Event was all that happened.

If no Weird Stuff followed, like kidnapping, and ex-neighbors and Wilbur Wash and 12 Days Worth.

That's why the amnesia lasted four years.

And nobody told me because they were either too scared or they had induced amnesia too.

It's that simple, and that true.  //////

That's all for tonight. See you in the morning. I Love You.  xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo  :):)

Happy Monday + Emerging From Amnesia in 1989

Happy Late Night, my Darling,

I hope your week is off to a good start, and this morning I did see a post about Dreamhouse, for an upcoming concert in October, so I am glad the work continues, and also you are probably still working on all the stuff you shot for them on tour last month. I will look forward to seeing the end result(s). :)

Just now I saw the picture of the James Grilled Cheese T-Shirt............

That is classic and perfect for him. No one else could wear that shirt and have it mean something, haha. Ultimately they could merchandise it......  :)

Today a typical workday for me. All is quiet on the Pearl and Kobi Front as I write. They are both asleep. Boy was that Rams game ever a bust! Yeah - sports, I know - but SB, the debut game from our long awaited home team was downright terrible. The Rams were awful, and worst of all it was against the hated Forty Whiners, who they should have creamed. Instead it was the other way around. Oh well, they've still got 15 weeks to turn things around and try to win a game or two!

I had a quickie Aliso hike at 3pm, just long enough to get some pix of The Cool Spider Web Tree, which I discovered on Saturday when I didn't have my cam with me. But I noted the time - 3:35 (just like my guitar) - and I made a point to be back today just before that time so I could capture the same quality of light. It was great, like the spiders of Aliso were saying, "hey, here comes that guy again. Let's build something really cool for him". After all, I am making them famous.  :)

Well, I want to examine the amnesia I, and likely others, had at the conclusion of the 1989 experience. What I am discovering, in writing about 1989 these nights, is that because I am tired at this time of night, and because 1989 is a subject that requires a ton of focus, I find that I wind up not being as concise as I wanted to, or not saying everything I had planned to say in a given post. I jump around a lot, and that is because the subject matter is gigantic. In 2006 I likened it to trying to lift up a blimp with just your two hands. No matter what angle you lifted from, or how you tried to hold it, you'd fumble because it's so big.

Telling this story is similar. I mean, I already wrote all about it in 2006, but that was a very focused effort that took six months of writing, for up to eight or ten hours a day. I still have all the details in my head, but because there are so many - probably thousands - it's hard for me to have them in focus all the time. Part of that is the nature of the amnesia itself. I can recall to memory all of the memories I've already recalled, but I can't keep them on the surface all the time. Some I have to think really hard about.

Anyhow, when I go on my walks lately, in the early evening, I think of what I want to write about, and it's all very clear to me, the structure and order of what I want to say. But then, by the time I am able to actually write - when the workday is done and everybody is asleep - then I am too fatigued to get the story out the way I wanted to. So it comes out in bits and pieces. That's all I wanted to say.

My Amnesia : it was the weirdest thing. Some people know they have amnesia. In the classic cases (so they say) a person shows up somewhere, at a house or police station or the hospital, and they can't remember how they got there, or sometimes even who they are. That might be just the way it happens in the movies, I don't know. But with my amnesia, I didn't even know I had amnesia. In other words, no more than a few days after the experience came to an end, I went to a movie called "Sea Of Love", which was released in America on September 15th, 1989. I have always believed (though not known for sure) that the experience lasted 12 days, and this includes best estimates for time lapsed during various events. Therefore, using that estimate, the 1989 experience ended on September 12.

So, that means that a mere three days later, I went to a movie (with another person), and I had no idea - zero - of any of the things that I have written about. No memory of being kidnapped. No memory of the initial event. No memory of the incredible, monumental, horrific and bizarre things we witnessed at the Wilbur Wash, no memory of Howard Johnsons, or the Ex-Neighbors.......no memory whatsoever of almost two weeks of what I will call "supernormal" experiences, i.e. experiences outside the norm of anything resembling everyday life. Also, they were horrible, horrific experiences, one following the other, but I know I've already said that.

But that's how total my amnesia was. I had no idea I even had amnesia. In other respects, I was fine, more or less, at least as far as I remember. The only odd thing that had happened, and I wrote about this in my book, is that one day - a date I estimate to be around Tuesday September 12, 1989, but which may be approximate - I distinctly remember waking up on the couch of our living room at 9032 Rathburn. It felt like I had been asleep for a long time, and I was groggy and slow to move, slow to get off the couch. My muscles were a little stiff. I remember that the light had a green cast to it, like my eyes were adjusting.

I remember getting up on one elbow and sitting up on the couch.

The main thing I remember - and I will never  forget this - was that I was super thirsty. I mean, like a man looking at a mirage thirsty. And what I did, when I got off the couch, was to go to the refrigerator in the kitchen. We always kept a gallon jug of ice water in there, and it was full. I remember that it was a hot day, as it often is in September in the Valley, and I was thirsty beyond belief. So I took the gallon jug from the fridge and a started to drink, and I wound up drinking a good portion of the gallon of water. I couldn't get enough, and I just kept on drinking.

I must have been very dehydrated.

Sometime in 1998, when I was able to pinpoint the timeline for the events of 1989 (the year was uncertain to me until then), I remembered this "awakening" on the couch in vivid detail, and I knew it was my "wake up point" from the 12 days.

Right after I finished drinking all that cold water, I made a phone call. I made the phone call because I knew something seemed strange. Not "totally weird", but just off.

What I felt like upon awakening, besides groggy, stiff and thirsty, was that I'd missed out on something.

That was a strong feeling. That I'd missed out on something that had happened.

Nothing weird. Just "something". A feeling that I'd been asleep and had missed out on something.

No one else was home that I could ask.....

And so I went straight to the phone after putting down the jug of water, and I called someone. It's not hard to guess who, though we aren't naming names. I called this person because I was wondering why I was feeling this sensation of loss, of a loss of time, and I wanted to ask if something had happened.

I also wanted to ask what day it was, because I realised I had no idea. But the phone rang and rang and nobody answered.

I think I realised that it was after 5 O'Clock and that the person I called was probably off work already.

And so, still confused, what I did next was to walk up the cul-de-sac at the top of Rathburn. Then I turned left and headed for the nearest LA Times newspaper box, which back then was in front of the Northridge Library, one block away.

I put a quarter in the box, opened it up and took a paper out.

I did so because I wanted to know what day it was, because when I woke up on the couch I had no idea.

If I remember correctly, the paper said it was September 12, 1989.

And that is how I came out of my amnesia.

Four days later, on September 16th, I went to "Sea Of Love". And I had no idea anything was wrong, or that anything unusual had happened in my life.  ////

That's all for tonight. I will see you in the morn, Sweet Baby.

I Love You.  xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo  :):)

Happy Sunday + Mozart for Choir + 1989 & Memory, and How Evil it Was To Take it Away

Happy Late Night, Sweet Baby,

I hope you had a nice weekend, and I am gonna bet that you are indeed on a tour, although maybe not with the drummer who posted cause I think his band's in New York. If you were going to New York you'd have said so, lol. Well anyhow, wherever you are I hope you are having a blast.  :)

We had good singing in church this morning, an anthem (they call church songs anthems) called "Blessed Is The Nation" in honor of 9/11. Afterward, we had an hour-long practice because we are now working on something very difficult, for me the hardest piece of music yet : Mozart's "Ave Verum Corpus", which I had neither heard nor heard of before today. I was not aware that he composed songs for Latin Mass. Anyhow, man, I am gonna have to study the Youtube versions every day for a couple weeks to get this tenor line in my head. It's what they call "counterintuitive" because where you think he's gonna go with the melody.......he doesn't. He uses half tones instead of whole ones, sharps and flats that come in an order you would never expect, until you hear it as a whole piece, with sopranos, altos and basses along with the tenor line you are singing (you meaning me, haha). So when you hear the whole thing, it makes sense, but just hearing the tenor line alone........well, if I can get it down then I'll know I'm on my way to being a good choral singer.

Tonight I am starting a new book (written in 1991) called "Vimana Aircraft Of Ancient India & Atlantis" by David Hatcher Childress, who is the owner of Adventures Unlimited Press, which publishes a lot of Dr. Farrell's books. Childress is not quite the writer or researcher that Dr. Joe is - nor is anyone else - but I'm 25 pages in and it's still a darn good book. Vimanas were the UFOs of Ancient India and China, and there are a multitude of references to such craft not only in Indian lore but also in Sumerian tablets, as studied and translated by Zechariah Sitchin in his very famous series of books written in the 70s.

People have been flying around in saucers for a long time, it seems.  :)

So that's my new "evening read" and my afternoon read is still the McVeigh book by Dr. Wendy Painter, who ought to get a medal for the research she did into that case, and for the new information she has uncovered.

I am a little on the tired side tonight (when am I not, haha), so I will get back into my examination of 1989 tomorrow night. For tonight, concerning amnesia and the way in which such an event is covered up, I will just say that the agencies of the Federal government, and the compartments of those agencies that deal with matters of extreme secrecy, have ways of containing a situation. Think of it as cleaning up a mess that you don't want anyone to see, and cleaning it up so thoroughly that any future observers who weren't aware of the mess would never know there was a mess in the first place. That's what these people do, and it must be said that what they do is 100% EVIL (capitalized emphasis on purpose).

I had my memory taken away from me - deliberately, by the use of drugs and hypnosis (and possibly tones) - but the point is that snlyome person in authority thought it was just fine and dandy to do that to me.

But here's the deal, and I've said this before : memory is all we've got. It's everything.

Without memory, I could wake up tomorrow morning not knowing where I am, or who I am, what my name is, or what my life has been.

Everything in our lives depends on continuity of memory.

And these evil people in the government made a decision to take away my memory of the events of the 12 Days of September 1989. They played God with my life, and in that way they are as bad as Rappaport or Schaller or any of the violent criminals I've mentioned.

I will get into an examination of how such an event as What Happened In Northridge is covered up, and for now I will just say that it is done by breaking the entire situation down into components .

They take each situation, at each hour, at each day, at each location, and break it all down.

Who was there? Who saw what? Who might have told somebody else, and who might that person or persons be?

And they go from there, and they are extremely thorough. In reading the McVeigh book, it is astounding to discover the resources the FBI had, and how fast and how comprehensively they came down not only on McVeigh's family members and known associates, but also on a whole Company of his former Army Battalion, confiscating their personal photos from the Gulf War, confiscating their personal medical records....

When the FBI swooped in, immediately after the bombing, they seemed to know just what they were looking for from all of these dozens or even hundreds of people, people who were soldiers who'd just fought a war to "protect America" from Saddam Hussein and Iraq.

I will say finally, for tonight - and I have said it before - that I am not anti-Government, nor anti-America. In fact, I am very proud, as I have also said, of my 400 year ancestry in this country.

But having said that, I do not have a lot of respect for the FBI. I think they are an organisation infiltrated by cowards and criminals who cover up major crimes. To be sure, the ordinary agents who are not "in the loop" of the upper echelon of Justice Department secrecy do a lot of great work, unbeknownst to me and to most Americans, to protect this country from all kinds of threats.

But it's that Upper Echelon that's in charge, and they are the ones who cover things up, along with other elites in other agencies and in the military. I have been in one of their underground bases.

They took my memory away, of the 12 Days of my experience, and to do that to someone is Profoundly Evil. ////

That's all for tonight, SB. See you in the morning. I Love You.  xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo  :):)

Happy Late Night + 1989, Amnesia & The Truth Must Prevail

Happy Late Night, Sweet Baby,

I am guessing you are busy this weekend. I don't have anything to report in my day to day affairs, just the usual routine, although I did go on two 45 minutes hikes yesterday and today, at O'Melveny and Aliso. Today was 97 degrees and very dry : perfect for me, lol. Shows watched : "Walking Dead" last night, "Under The Dome" tonight. "Walking Dead" is suffering a little bit, I think, in the last couple seasons. It's still good, and very watchable, but they've introduced way too many new characters, and you can't really keep track of them or feel connected to them, and instead of delving into the mystery of the whole thing, like why the world ended in the first place, they are still just battling endless Zombies and Crazy People after 6 seasons. So, it's still good, and I will keep watching, but a show like "Under The Dome", which has a ton of stuff happening (cause it's Stephen King), really makes me notice how the writing on "WD" is lagging now, in comparison.

Well anyway, I know you are occupied with your work these days, so I keep writing about 1989 from a forensic point of view, which is my work. It's funny, because I sometimes think, "Why are you not relentless on this, Ad"? I think about the fact that I got kidnapped - a real live abduction at gunpoint, though no ransom was ever asked to my knowledge - and beyond that I think about The Whole Thing. And sometimes I ask myself, "why are you not writing letters to Government agencies or filing FOIA requests all the time"? Why have I not called CSUN to protest the fact that Rappaport still teaches there, an obscenity that ranks with Jerry Sandusky at Penn State? And the Rappaport Kidnapping is only one event out of many.

I guess I can't give a satisfactory answer to those questions about why I don't constantly seek justice, except to say that once upon a time I tried. I tried to talk to my friends and family, some of who were involved and some who were not, and all I got in return was called "crazy". Even (or especially) by people who knew I was telling the truth. And as for my contacting the "government" (whatever that is, haha), I tried that too. In the late 90s, I wrote several dozen letters to various agencies and just got stonewalled. "We have no information concerning blah blah blah". The only agency that did not stonewall was the LAPD. I have letters from two different Commanders of the Devonshire Divison, from the years 1997 and 1998, that more or less - while not saying so exactly - let me know in so many words that they were aware of what I was talking about. But they also - in so many words - told me they could do nothing.

And that is because they have no power to do so. It is a Federal case. And I've tried to make a Federal Case out of it, but I am only one person. I've had literally not one single person stand by me, even though many know that I am speaking the truth. Beyond being a Federal case, it is also a Secret Case, and if there are files on it at all, they are Beyond Top Secret.

No joke, but the truth.

Anyhow, I am tired once more (another thing about this is that it takes so much mental focus that it is tiring, but one must press on nonetheless), but I want to get back to my friend who "executed" me with his starter pistol on my street corner that afternoon in September 1989. I want to take a look at his amnesia, which is apparent because of what he told me when I confronted him in 2006 : "It seems like a dream".

Of course, he went on to deny he'd said that, and to tell people that I had "brain damage" for making such claims. As an aside, it's kind of interesting now that you have Mary Sean Young taking about clones on Facebook......

Well, you heard it here first, ladies and gents. Or maybe Mary has brain damage, too. Or maybe not.

While this story is admittedly weird - beyond weird - it is the truth.

As to my friend's amnesia, that has to do with how the People In Charge (BC, and other Federal agents, and military) were able to cover it up. I will just give the basics tonight. My own amnesia was deliberately induced, by hypnosis and drugs. You can Google those search terms if you wish. It goes back to a man named Sidney Gottlieb and the CIA MK Ultra program in the 1950s, when these really evil doctors figured out which sections of the brain stored memory, and how to block it, how to use mind control on people.

In my case, what they did after the 12 days were over was simply to erase my memory. I don't know if the amnesia was meant to be permanent or not, but it wore off after 4 years.

And it apparently wore off on my friend also.

There were many people involved in What Happened In Northridge, from a civilian point of view. Many people who may have had amnesia artificially induced in them. My friend is one confirmed case.

I do not believe they had the time or wherewithall to hypnotise and drug every civilian person who was involved, especially the large group of a dozen or more that were inside the motel room at Howard Johnson's Motor Inn on Reseda Boulevard, which was one of the final events of the whole ordeal. That motel room was used as a "corral" to round everybody up, everybody they'd found who had been present during the prior Wilbur Wash event, and also others who had been present earlier.

Everyone I've ever talked to whom I'm certain was present at some point in the proceedings tells me they "have no memory" of it. Except my friend, who said that "it seems like a dream".

I have a picture in my mind, not quite a memory but the picture is there all the same, of a man in the doorway of that motel room, as we were all finally being allowed to leave, after several hours. And in the mental picture, I can see that he has in his hand a device slightly larger that a rectangular smart phone. It is more ergonomically shaped, to fit his hand, and when I pass by it myself, he scans me with it and passes it by my ear, and when he does, a series of tones comes out. A pattern of tones, like in Close Encounters. And you don't so much "hear" these tones with your ears as you hear them inside your head.

That is just something I very vaguely remember from exiting that motel room.

Betty and Barney Hill (you can Google them) also mentioned "tones" as the last thing they remembered before finding themselves at home after driving a long distance from another location in New Hampshire, a drive they did not remember until later. The Hill case is very famous.

As for me, I can distinctly remember being hypnotised. I remember being given a shot as well. The man at the door of the motel room, with the device that made tones, came later.

I don't know exactly how they covered up What Happened In Northridge to the extent they did, where it seems like it was Entirely Erased. But I know that my amnesia broke after 4 years, and my friend's did sometime before 2006, likely much earlier.

So it is likely that many, if not most people involved, remember at least something of what happened, even if it "seems like a dream". And it seems that way due to the nature of amnesia, and the way memories can be buried in the subconscious. It takes an effort to bring them to the surface. I have spent countless hours doing just that.

I would like to know if anyone else has, or if they've been content to let the memories stay buried, and if they've been troubled by them as a result.

I would just say that the truth has to come out someday. God wants it, and our souls want it.

And also, like amnesia, no secret lasts forever. ////

That's all for tonight.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxoxxoxo  :):)