September 28, 2024

 Howdy folks, and Happy Saturday. Sorry about the delay in posting. I guess it's because I don't have a lot of news to report; I'm just trying to ride the election out as it's made me more nervous than any election in my lifetime. I dread the thought of this narcissistic woman becoming president, but what's made my nervous tension worse is the growing realization that I've been targeted by predators for much of my adult life (in some cases for reasons known only to them), and what I have learned - just in the past week since I last wrote to you - has floored me. It's been hard enough dealing with the monumental 1989 issue for almost half my life, but now I know that I was targeted and abused by a predator as recently as 2009, when I was a housesitter in Reseda. After a while, a person like me - who has been repeatedly a target of predators - can feel very alone in the world. It's frightening to know that someone has fixated on you, and has known things about you that you yourself were not aware of. In my case, the predatory person was aware that I was (and, perhaps still am) susceptible to hypnosis. This person was (and I assume still is) skilled at inducing a hypnotic state, which is not always the "zombie state" depicted in popular culture. Depending on the level of trance induced, a hypnotized person can carry on a conversation with the predator, all the way down to being immobilized and barely able to speak, but the important thing is that a hypnotist can block your memory of what they've done. This happened to me while I was housesitting in 2009, and because the incident was witnessed by a third party, I have considered talking to a lawyer. Whatever I decide, my newfound knowledge of 2009 is going to change things. In the meantime, I am praying for the future of this country. Imagine me, of all people, rooting for Donald Trump. That's how serious the situation is. Please God, save us from Kamala Harris.

I have a Montgomery Clift movie for you: "From Here to Eternity", the Best Picture winner of 1954 (it won 8 Oscars overall). I need to quickly mention that Monty never won a Best Actor which is a total joke, especially when a hambone like Daniel Day Lewis won three. Anyway, his role in "Eternity" may be the one he is most known for. It's one of the greatest, most legendary films ever made and he's positively iconic in it. The top-billed Buht Lahncahstah is ostensibly the lead, and he is great too, but Monty is the centerpiece, it's his movie all the way. He plays "Private Robert E Lee Prewitt", a bugler who's been transferred at his own request to Schofield Army Base in Hawaii. He's also an Army boxing champ. The base Major knows this and wants him for the Schofield squad, so he (the Major) can look good if the team wins. He hopes to make General if that happens. When Monty makes it known that he doesn't box anymore because he blinded an opponent in the ring, the Major and his subordinate officers don't care. They want Monty on the team, no ifs ands or buts, and the more he refuses, the more they make his military life hell. "An Officer and a Gentleman" copied this motif decades later. While the persecution of Private Prewitt continues, Buht Lahncahstah is secrecty stealing the Major's wife (played by the great Deborah Kerr). Their make-out scene on the beach, in the rolling waves on the sand, is one of the most famous in all of cinema (even though it lasts mere seconds). Monty seeks refuge at a local dance club, tagging along with his pal "Maggio", the base cook, played by Frank Sinatra who deservedly won Best Supporting Actor. It is at this club that Monty meets "Lorene" (Donna Reed), a good-time gal from the Midwest who's wound up in Hawaii due to bad luck.

As for Burt Lancaster, his illicit relationship with Deborah Kerr is pure lust, or love/hate. Burt thinks Kerr is a tramp for sleeping with dozens of enlisted men, until she tearfully explains the reason for her infidelity. The psychological motivations for male versus female cheating are broached in a quick exchange of dialogue that is bold for 1953. I don't know if it is true that men cheat for biological reasons (lust, libido) and women only cheat for emotional reasons (abandonment, revenge, feeling let down) but I imagine the truth is somewhere in the middle. 

Back to Monty, he's a soldier, first and foremost. There's no way that the Major is gonna drum him out of the Army for not boxing. In a moment of doubt, he asks Donna Reed to marry him and go back to the States. Deborah Kerr also wants Burt to marry her. She says she'll divorce the Major to make it happen.

Into the mix is thrown a sadistic Sergeant of the Guard (the head of the Military Police), played by Ernest Borgnine. His character hates "Wops", and he singles out Ol' Blue Eyes for abuse. Frankie, rebelling, winds up as his prisoner, and I can't tell ya what happens after that without giving spoilers. Some fans say that "From Here to Eternity" is a soap opera, and I agree that it is, in format. But it's infused with deep meaning, especially as set against the coming of Pearl Harbor. Monty goes all out in his portrayal of a dedicated soldier. Though he has been arguably greater, in the dramatic sense, in other roles (like "Judgement at Nuremberg" or "A Place in the Sun"), nowhere has he had more screen presence or shown more force in a role. His showdown with Ernest Borgnine is brief but climactic. "Eternity" is a double-troubled romance featuring individualist personalities conscripted into World War 2. Let's end the war in Ukraine and prevent WW3. Vote Trump, I beeseech you, especially if you live in a battleground state. 

Hey, what do you guys think of the ICE statistics that were released yeterday? There are over 13,000 convicted murderers running loose in this country illegally, not to mention 15,000 convicted rapists. That's why they have no crime in Venezuela or El Salvador anymore - they shipped 'em all up here. How anyone can vote for Kamala Harris is a mystery...

I listen to the music of Richard Wagner every night. I almost need to pull myself away so I can listen to other classical favorites, but I can't and at the moment don't want to. Emotionally speaking, he may have been the greatest composer who ever lived, and when you hear the 9 minute opening to his final opera "Parsifal", you'll understand why. It may be the most profoundly "human" piece of music ever written.

What it means to be human. That's what we all wonder, and yet we have allowed society to degrade so that we can avoid that wonder and the simple magic of crows, squirrels and bunnies, to be replaced by smash n' grab robberies, re-inflamed "racial" issues that were settled in the 1960s, high-powered cars that allow immature drivers to rule over the roadways, and not enough police to stop them. We need a restoration of sanity, law and order and peace, and an end to chaos and mayhem.

Next time I will have a happier blog. It's been a tough week. Stay tuned.

September 20, 2024

 Howdy folks. Well, there's a ton of news as always these days, but I want to mention the arrest of P. Diddy, aka Sean Combs, which has gone somewhat under the radar compared to election reporting, the second Trump assassination attempt, and the Springfield situation. Diddy, in case you haven't heard, was arrested for sex trafficking among other things, and the details that have emerged about his crimes include his lifestyle and the parties he was famous for throwing at one of his mansions. They were known as "freak offs", and were exactly the kind of parties I have described here at the blog since 1998, when I first began writing about Hollywood's "Porno People", as I've termed them. I was the victim of such a group. As an aside, Diddy made videotapes of the orgies at his parties (just like the people who victimized me), in order to have a blackmail hold over the attendees. He also threatened anyone who wanted to leave. Getting back to my story, I - as most blog readers well know - was kidnapped by my next-door neighbor, a CSUN cinema professor, who was one of the leaders of a similarly styled sex-and-pornography ring that operated in my Northridge neighborhood and had connections to the so-called "music" industry. I was kidnapped and tortured by this psychopath because I unwittingly stumbled upon his sex group, which included many people I knew at that time, some of whom were also involved in cocaine trafficking. CSUN still employs the professor who kidnapped me, a scandal that - if uncovered - would make Penn State's coverup of Jerry Sandusky look small potatoes in comparison.

The Porno People are nothing less than pure evil. I could name individuals from families right here in Northridge who have been part of these occult organisations. These are the people I mean when I say "God's gonna get 'em" because Lord Knows law enforcement won't or can't because Hollywood owns the police and everyone knows it. They also own the Democratic Party. Jesse Watters of Fox News says that the Diddy arrest could take down the entire "music" industry, but I'll only believe that when I see it because they could've arrested Diddy 25 years ago. That's how long I've been writing about these people, and I will eventually tell everything I know when I write my five part book series "What Happened in Northridge", the story of 1989.

One day, The Porno People (who should really be called The Violent People) are gonna go down, and they're gonna go down so hard and so far into the void that they'll wish they were in Hell because Hell would be a vacation compared to what's in store for them. Sorry to go on a tirade, but as you can tell, I despise these people with a black passion. God's gonna get 'em, you can count on it.

Well anyhow, "Ya bettah thank a union membah"!...(deep breath)...what else have we got? A brief note on Ryan Routh....Manchurian Candidate much? Dig into this guy's background and tell me he's not a CIA asset.

I have a movie for you: "The Pajama Game"(1957), a musical I remember from early childhood. Though the film was released before I was born, it began as a Broadway play and they put on a version of it when my sister was a drama student in junior high school. The storyline involves a labor dispute between workers and the owner of a pajama factory, but that is only the context that bookends the romance between John Raitt (Bonnie's Dad), who plays the factory superintendent and Doris Day, the workers' union leader ("Ya bettah thank a union membah!") I love musicals as you know, and especially those from the 1950s with major league production numbers and art direction, and "Pajama Game" excels in this category. It may be the most "purely musical" musical we've reviewed because, rather than interspersing songs between lengthy blocks of story, this movie features one song after another, many in tightly choreographed, lavishly produced dance sequences. Of course, "The Umbrellas of Cherbourg" took the meaning of "musical" to it's appreciable limit by having all the dialogue sung. If you've never seen it, check it out. It's one of my favorite movies. But back to "Pajama Game", the plot, such as it is, involves a labor dispute over a 7 1/2 cent pay raise. Showcased in a supporting role is a very talented actress and dancer named Carol Chaney, whose life was cut short by diabetes. I guarantee you'll be looking her up on IMDB when the movie is over, and you'll recognize Eddie Foy Jr., the long-time jack-of-all-trades performer who began life as one of The Seven Little Foys vaudeville act. The film was shot on the Warner Brothers backlot (which I had the pleasure of touring last April) and inside it's legendary soundstages. The main floor of the pajama factory was built inside one of these stages and looks incredible onscreen. I haven't worn pajamas in years but the movie made me want to rush out and buy some. "The Pajama Game" is a 10/10 classic, and once again the IMDB reviewers agree. Give it a view and get hooked on classic musicals.

To get an early start on Halloween season, I also watched "Two On a Gillotine"(1965), another film from my childhood (the release date was January 13, 1965, one month before I started kindergarten). I remember my parents went to see it, and I was interested in the word "guillotine", and why it was pronounced "ghee-o-teen". Mom and Dad told me it was a scary movie (Dad may have said "Ghee-o-teens" chopped people's heads off), and when they came back, they said it was really good. Having now seen it myself, I agree, but I think it was too long. It's more a suspense film than a horror movie, with Dean Jones and Connie Stevens giving it a tinge of romance. She's the daughter of a recently deceased illusionist (Caesar Romero) who has left her his 300K fortune (when 300K was a fortune). The movie opens with an onstage illusion, then cuts to Romero's funeral. The reading of his will takes place on the stage of the Hollywood Bowl in a classic use of mid-60s location. Jones, a huge star for Disney in the 60s and 70s, plays a reporter trying to get the scoop on Stevens, Romero's daughter, who is an exact double for her mother, who mysteriously disappeared decades earlier. The will states that Stevens must reside in her father's mansion for a week to receive her inheritance. Romero claimed that he would return from the dead as his final act of magic. Dean Jones is on hand to debunk this, but winds up falling in love with Connie Stevens. 

The movie was directed by William Conrad of "Cannon" fame. He makes a Hitchcockian appearance mid-film, and keep an eye out for a young Richard Kiel in the opening funeral scene. The running time is 107 minutes. 15 to 20 could've been cut, but then you'd miss some great shots of Pacific Ocean Park, aka P.O.P., the legendary So Cal amusement park that was built on the Santa Monica Pier to compete with Disneyland but became synonymous with hippies and bikers by the end of the 1960s. The best scenes in the movie feature Virginia Gregg as Connie Stevens' former nanny. The Great Parley Baer plays Caesar Romero's manager. The last twenty minutes redeem the horror premise. Conrad directs and photographs in black and white in the style of William Castle. "Two on a Guillotine" is definitely worth a view for that unique, centered, mid-60s ethos that existed for a brief time between the sunshine of JFK's Camelot and the wild fluctuations of the counterculture era. The 60s were a trip, because each year had a style of its own... 

I am sorry to report that Cupid's has a green fence around it, which means it will soon be demolished in one of the great tragedies of modern history. I can't imagine what they will put up in it's place, but I'll guarantee it will go out of business because the location was only meant for a small hot dog stand - it's in between a regular Northridge house and a small corner strip mall that does minimal business. The Cupid's lot is tiny; thank God they can't erect one of those postage-stamp-footprint (but tall) apartment complexes that have become ubiquitous around Los Angeles, but they would if they could, because developers are in their own way as evil as the porno people. Anyway, I am sorry the Cupid's owners sold the property, but I understand they were getting older and had no one to take over the business.

And that's about all I know on this end-of-Summer day. I'm blowing my mind on 2009 and I'm working very hard on my next book. Stay tuned. 

September 13, 2024 (Friday the 13th)

 Howdy folks, and happy Friday the 13th. Well, the debate is old news by now, so I can't add much to what's already been said, but even though the corporate media pundits have claimed that Kamala crushed Trump, it doesn't seem to have helped her campaign. She's still leading nationally (in the popular vote) by 1.5%, the same number as pre-debate, while Trump has taken back the electoral college prognostication (287 to 251), which had Kamala ahead before the debate. Therefore, she's actually doing worse, electorally, than she was before the debate in which she supposedly tore Trump a new one.

And that's because people aren't as stupid as the media thinks they are. I won't go on a tirade because I know she's your gal, but c'mon. Even if you loved her schtick on the debate stage (and I agree that she's a great comedian), you still have to admit that she didn't answer any policy questions except with vague platitudes, and when you go into the grocery store, eggs are still 8 bucks a dozen. Bread is 6 bucks. A regular size bag of chips is 7 bucks. They give out inflation percentage numbers like 9%, 20%, but in Los Angeles, many products have doubled in price, like milk, which went from 1.99 a gallon to 3.99 a gallon. That's 100% inflation. Egg prices have tripled and quadrupled. And it's not just the inflation (though that is reason enough not to vote for her), it's also the radical far-left wokeness that sides with criminals over law abiding citizens, that allows the border to be overrun, and that promotes the kind of cultural and transhumanist insanity we are seeing. If I had kids, I doubt I'd let them attend a public school, not with the curriculum they're teaching.

I hope she not only loses but loses big, maybe even by 75 to 100 electoral votes, so that the Democrats will never try this again. Don't run someone who's this far left. I mean, she makes Bernie Sanders look like a centrist. 

Well anyhow. I don't have a Montgomery Clift movie for you (still waiting for the dvd to arrive at the Libe). Instead, I've been watching episodes of "Millennium", that other series from Chris Carter with an even darker theme than "The X-Files". I own the complete series on dvd and run through it about every five years or so. I've also been watching eps of a show called "Promised Land", which aired for three years (1996-99) during the time I lived with my Mom. In fact, it was Mom who introduced me to the show, about a family who has lost their home in an economic downturn and is travelling the country in a trailer. They drive wherever the road takes them, finding jobs in small towns, and they help others and are helped along the way. It's kind of a Christian, middle-class family version of "Easy Rider" without the drugs. Like Dennis Hopper and Peter Fonda, the family is "discovering America". The mother is an ex-hippie and rock groupie (there's even an episode starring Joe Walsh), while Dad (Gerald McRaney of "Simon and Simon" fame) is a Vietnam vet who lost his job when the factory closed down. Every episode has a humanitarian problem to solve. The show was a spin-off of "Touched by an Angel", which was my Mom's favorite show at that time. I enjoyed "Touched" also, but liked "Promised Land" enough to buy the complete series on dvd, and in watching it now, it not only reminds me of the years I lived with Mom, but the late 1990s in general, just before the Internet took over and when only a fraction of the population had cell phones. I think it was a better and friendlier time, and there's no reason we can't return to it. We really don't need to live this current lifestyle. We got along fine in a world without gadgets.

I've been listening to David Gilmour's excellent new album, "Luck and Strange", which - besides his singular voice and soaring, trademark guitar solos - features a poignant song called "Between Two Points", sung by his daughter Romany, whose own angelic voice you may remember from pandemic times, when the Gilmours were making podcasts from their barn as "The Von Trapped Family". Their show was hosted by son Charlie Gilmour, and featured the whole family (including the dog) on a red velvet-draped set. David Gilmour would often sing a song and was usually accompanied by Romany on harp and vocals, and she got a lot of positive comments, some of which (including my own) suggested that David record with her. Now, he's not only done that, but he's bringing Romany along on his upcoming tour, which promises to be fantastic. I'll be going to at least one show and hopefully more. It's amazing to see artists nearing 80, like Gilmour and Jon Anderson, who are still at the top of their game.

In books, I've just finished Paul Tremblay's "Horror Movie", which I highly recommend. Talk about an original writer. Tremblay gets inside your head and messes around in there. Everything is internalised in his books, he talks to himself and second-guesses his characters. Give him a read for something entirely different, and while I'm at it I might as well make another plug for my own recently released book "Pearl the Wonder Girl", available now at Lulu.com. Here's the copy and paste link:

 www.lulu.com/search?sortBy=RELEVANCE&page=1&q=pearl+the+wonder+girl&pageSize=10&adult_audience_rating=00

Or just go to Lulu.com and enter "Pearl the Wonder Girl" onto the search window. You'll be glad you did.

Well, that's about all for today. Sorry for the brevity. Next time we'll have a Monty Movie and we'll soon be starting Halloween Season which will mean a massive, in-depth search for unseen horror flicks. If it's anywhere near as successful as last year's effort, it'll be a doozy. I'm also working hard on my next book (due out hopefully by my birthday), which began life as a caregiving story but has bloomed into quite a bit more. For example: have you ever wondered if your neighbors might be secret agents?

What part of "Karen on a mattress in the living room" do you not understand? 

September 6, 2024

 Howdy folks, and Happy Friday. Well, I didn't go to the Rainbow Backyard Bash, and I'm glad I stayed home because it was exactly as I predicted: a jam-packed sardine can on hot asphalt. I just don't do that anymore. My rule of thumb is The Crumminess Potential. I have a checklist, including the type of music, number of bands, general admission vs. reserved seating, outdoor vs. indoor, ticket price, venue and driving distance, and mostly, how much do I want or need to see the band or artist? I weigh all the factors, and if the Potential for Crumminess outweighs the Potential for an Awesome Experience, I stay home. Grimsley is the exact opposite. He'll drive anywhere and jump through any hoops for just about anyone, even tribute bands. But I have too many other things I'd rather do. I've been to over 800 concerts, seen every band I ever wanted to see (with a few exceptions), and unless a concert is easy for me to attend, I have no desire to hassle it. The Rainbow Bash was for diehard metalheads, which I am not (and never really was). I like shows in theaters, or small clubs, even arenas, anywhere with reserved seats. Anyhow, I didn't go. Grim did. He had a hard time finding parking, and then had to deal with the large crowd. His review? "It was pretty boring." That's because KK's Priest don't have many good songs. That's really all you need to know.

It was 114 degrees yesterday, a genuine rip-roaster, and it's 112 today. Remember that day about three or four years ago when it was 128? Cue Chris Farley: "That was...(shrug) awesome". 

I have a Montgomery Clift movie for you: "The Search"(1948), his second film (and one of his best, though they all were). Interestingly, it is also the third Monty movie (out of only 17 he made) that is set in postwar Germany (the other two being "Judgement at Nuremberg" and "The Big Lift"). Here, we are in the American Zone in utterly destroyed Berlin (it looks like a nuclear wasteland, truly bombed into the Stone Age), where - as the movie opens - refugee children are being brought by train to displaced person camps from all over the formerly Nazi occupied territories. Many of them are terrifed, even of their Allied rescuers. To them, anyone in a uniform is a threat. They're also frightened of ambulances, since that is what the Germans used, at first, as mobile gas chambers. Most of the children are orphans whose parents were killed in concentration camps.

We are soon brought to focus on one little boy, the blonde and frail 11 year old "Karel" (Ivan Jandl) from Czechoslovakia who's so terrorized by his wartime experience that he's gone mute. When the kids in his rescue ambulance break out and escape, he runs into the hills with another boy, who drowns in a river. Karel hides in the ruined buildings on the outskirts of town, becoming feral, and it is there that he comes into contact with Monty, a US security officer. Monty sees Karel peeking down at him from the hillside and offers him a sandwich, then has to chase him when he runs away. Soon, after Karel is subdued (succumbing to hunger), it becomes a Buddy Movie. Because Karel won't speak, Monty doesn't know a thing about him, no name, no country, nothing. There's only the tattoo number on his arm, with an "A" for Auschwitz, but the fair-haired Karel doesn't appear to be Jewish. Monty begins a clerical search for the boy's parents or relatives (hence the title), and in a subplot, it turns out that another little boy (who is Jewish) has appropriated Karel's name, assuming he drowned after the ambulance escape. Monty eventually discovers that Karel is from a family of Czech musicians, showing that artists and intellectuals were also persecuted.

But he still can't get Karel to speak, and that's a problem, so Monty starts from scratch, trying to get the kid to learn to say "yes" and "no". Then he shows him pictures of various animals and objects, to teach him phonetic English, and because Karel now has food and shelter, he trusts Monty and becomes an excellent student. Then one day he has memory of his mother, from whom he was separated by the Nazis years earlier. He asks Monty what a "mother" is, and the movie threatens to turn tragic. "The Search" now moves in both directions, because Karel's mama (Jarmila Novotna) is looking for him, too. After surviving Mauthausen, she starts canvasing childrens' camps all over the Allied Zones, and when she can't locate Karel, she pauses her search to care for the orphaned camp kids.

Meanwhile Monty, not knowing Karel's name, had dubbed him "Jim" and plans to adopt him and take him to America. He assumes Karel's mother is dead, which leads to the film's climax. "The Search" is top notch early Clift, who plays Straight Man to the stone-faced but angelic Karel, who comes to love Monty as a father figure but ultimately wants to find his mother. Once again, the IMDB ratings and reviews are super high, just like in "Wild River". Ivan Jandl won a children's Oscar for his performance (when they still gave those out). Monty was a natural at easygoing comedy, and the early and lengthy bonding scenes between his character and Karel are some of the best of his career. He's playing off a scene-stealing urchin and he knows it. According to IMDB, before it was released on dvd, "The Search"was the most requested film on TCM. It's an absolute classic, with historic post-war footage of a time when the world could have ended but was rebuilt instead. 

This was the 13th Monty Movie in our ongoing retrospective. We have four films left. Coming up will be "From Here to Eternity" (hopefully next blog), then we may have to purchase "Freud" and "The Defector" on dvd because those are not available at the library. And finally, we'll search high and low for a copy of "Raintree County", which doesn't seem to be available except for an Italian version which is unfortunately in PAL format. But I'll keep looking 'cause we've gotta see it.      

Folks, I must say that the recently discovered 2009 Housesitting Incident (as I will call it) is freaking me out, because the person who hypnotized me actually did it more than once, and it freaks me out because I am learning that I am (or have been) suceptible to hypnosis, and that this person was aware of that fact, and used that awareness to plan to take advantage of me, in advance, likely before I was hired as the housesitter.

Would you like to know something scary? A person suceptible to hypnosis can be immobilized by a person skilled in hypnotic technique. Yes indeed. A skilled hypnotist can convince you that you can't move your arm, or can't move your legs, or that you can't move a muscle. During the Main Incident, I was at one point in a standing position but entirely immobilzed, so much that I could barely speak. I remember that it took extreme concentration just to croak a few words out, and I told the person - in front of a witness - "i...can...see...everything...you...are...doing...to...me..." I'm using lower case letters to emphasize how weak my voice was, but I wanted the person, and the witness, to know that I was aware of everything that was going on, despite the fact that I couldn't move.

Prior to the Incident, which took place in December 2009, this person had hypnotized me at least once (and likely more than once) in a sort of "trial run" before they eventually advanced to their main objective. On those early occasions, which took place in the house months prior to the main event, the person may have tested my suceptibility by, at first, merely "freezing" my arm, or maybe stopping me in my tracks with a keyword. That's how it is done, with keywords (hypnotic suggestion), and talismans (like a coin, perhaps a silver dollar). This person also used a penlight and a mirror.

One question I have is this: how and where did the person learn hypnosis? I mean, it's not like it's an everyday skill. But more than that, and way more scary and crazy, is how did the person know I was susceptible in the first place? The only way that is possible is if the person knew the details of what happened to me in 1989, when I was hypnotised and put in trance states on multiple occasions by several different people and one in particular whose name you'd recognize. Hypnotic states can also be achieved with surreptitiously administered drugs (i.e to "roofie" someone), and/or with certain radio wave frequencies.

What the person in question did, in 2009, was sinister because they had control over me. The ultimate reason they did what they did is kind of pathetic (and there's no doubt the person is mentally ill) but that doesn't excuse it, because it was nevertheless criminal and profoundly wrong. Slipping a drug into someone's soft drink, and then whipping out your penlight and mirror? And planning it all in advance? Yeah, that's sicko stuff. Boy, could I tell a story to a prosecutor (calling Kamala Harris...not!). 

Well anyhow, I somehow keep going, even if it feels like my life has been some kind of occult nightmare. Maybe God is using me to root out evil people. I hope to find answers one day.