Howdy folks, and Happy New Year. I hope you had a nice holiday season. I'm gonna try to write more regularly in 2026. It won't be 300 times a year like in the old days, but hopefully at least once a week, a pace I was maintaining for the last couple years until this past Fall, when I got behind in my blogging because of an information avalanche, related to the research work I do. As you know from my most recent blogs, I've been blown away by the things I've learned. It's truly stunning what the memory can cough up through the practice of self-hypnotic meditation. For instance, I've been working on restoring my overall memory of 1982, using specific dates as markers (such as Valentine's Day, my birthday, etc.), and I've remembered the night Lilly and I were having dinner at Angela's Restaurant, sometime between April and June 1982. I hope to pin down the exact date, but anyway, Lys joined us that night, to show me a portfolio she had with Lilly's high school senior portraits in it. The larger story behind those photos is too long to go into, but what the memory showed was that Cousin Tony entered the restaurant with a large companion. They sat down univited at our table and tried to intimidate me.
Who is Cousin Tony, you ask? My answer: if you know, you know, and if you don't, you don't. But I can tell you that he isn't a nice guy. That night in Angela's, I had no idea who he was when he walked in, but he seemed to know a lot about me. He was younger than me (only 18, I was 22) but he was older in a streetwise way, and more importantly, he was bigger, likely stronger, and physically fit. I think he said he was into martial arts. He was definitely muscular, wearing a tank top that emphasized his arms, and he sat down at our table and started "advising" me in a "word to the wise" kind of way, about stuff I knew nothing about. I'm still working to recall the substance of what he said. He tried to pretend like he was "my pal"; that if I listened to him I'd be okay. Gang type, pseudo-Mafioso bullshit. But the bottom line was that he was threatening me, and I remember telling him (paraphrase), "Yes, I know you could kick my ass, but that doesn't mean I'm gonna just sit here and take this crap." He changed the subject by talking about music. Cousin Tony is an accomplished pianist. But he's also a thug. Straight up.
Other things happened on that night at Angela's Restaurant (where Lilly and I used to go for pizza) but I won't mention them now.
Anyhow, as noted, I'm remembering all kinds of outrageous criminal incidents and events, like the time Dennis forced me into his white pickup truck. I think it was a mini-truck. Yes, indeed. I don't yet know the context, the "before and after", but he abducted and illegally detained me one night in 1982, and drove me around until the sun came up. I kid you not. He put me in handcuffs, had a baseball bat and a gun in the truck's front seat. Said he was gonna kill me. I've found the place on Gledhill Street (near White Oak) where he finally parked when he was ready to give up. I think he got pulled over by the cops after contacting "a business partner of his" who lived on Texhoma off Gledhill. But his sister showed up and pleaded his case and I'm guessing the incident got covered up.
Imagine being me, as a victim of all this stuff, and not only having the crimes blocked from your memory, and not even being aware of them for over forty years, but knowing now that the perpetrators got away with everything they did.
Can you say "infuriating?" And that's not all Dennis has done. I could give you a laundry list, and I will in due time. The stuff he has pulled goes all the way up to and including my time with Pearl, when I was her caregiver. The event I'm working on now took place in 2010, at Pearl's house and also at the Latter Day Saints Church overlooking Plummer Street near Balboa, just west of the famous Greek Church.
Anyhow, all I can do is keep working, playing the hand God has dealt me, and I believe I've been doing a pretty good job of late. In my ongoing investigation, I've been hit by an avalanche of info, as you know, and just recently, the investigation has taken a whole new turn. I've discovered that Pearl's broken hip was not an accident, as I was told before I became her caregiver, and not only that, but...(are you ready?)...(and some of you already know this bit of truth)...I've found out I was there when it happened.
Did you catch that last part? Let me repeat it. I was present when Pearl's hip was broken, and it was no accident.
Finding this out, almost exactly sixteen years after the fact, is such an affront to me, and to my caregiving tenure with Pearl, and, in my opinion, to all caregivers everywhere, that my blood has been boiling since I learned of it.
Now, I know what some of you are thinking: "How, Ad, could you have been present when Pearl's hip was broken and not have known it for all this time?"
It's called memory blocking, folks, and there are several ways to do it, including hypnosis, "knockout drugs" like Rohypnol, in my case, the use of electronic "scanners", or a combination of all three.
When you don't remember what happened to you, you can't talk about it, write about it, or report it. And the bad guys know this. Dennis knows this. So does everyone who was present, with me, and Pearl, when her hip was broken on January 1, 2010.
This happened at her house, during an ayahuasca "ceremony" for a person who will not now be named (but may soon be). Do you guys know what ayahuasca is? I will tell you. It is an extremely dangerous psychedelic drug, obtained from a plant that is brewed into tea.
I am outraged at what I am learning about Dennis and the day he took me to the Latter Day Saints Church above Plummer. This happened in March or early April 2010, right when I was about to become (or had become) Pearl's caregiver. Can you guys even believe that Dennis knew Pearl and Helen, and that he thought he had a say in whether or not I would become Pearl's caregiver? He took me to this church, with Friedman in tow, because he was part of a crew that were making porno movies, likely on behalf of David Birke, Jared Rappaport and CSUN. Speaking of Dave Birke, its amazing the things I've remembered about him, like the times, in 1991, when he forced me to attend certain movies with him, as if he had some kind of proprietary hold over me. He came to my house (9032), and he must've "scanned" me with one of the electronic devices all those guys had, then he would "tell me" I had to go to such-and-such a movie with him. I would've been under a level of hypnosis when this was happening, and also under threat of getting "zapped" by a stun gun or put in handcuffs or any of the tactics these bad guys used in those days.
David Birke did this to me for several weeks in 1991. He forced me to attend movies with him, ones that had whatever symbolic meaning to him and his stupid ass cult. I'd like to see him try it now.
I'd like to see Dennis try forcing me into his car now, like he did at Pearl's house in April 2010, so he could take me to the Latter Day Saints Church, and to the Eaglegate house just north of the church, where John Mallis posed as "Chicago John". These were porno movie locations, for some stupid cult objective. No pornographic activity was evident while I was there, so maybe it was "second unit" stuff, but these are 100% verified incidents.
It's astounding to me what I've remembered. And the 1991 David Birke "movie thing" is nothing compared to what he did to me and my Mom at the 7th Day Adventist Church in August 1988. Why he is walking around a free man is a mystery for the ages. Perhaps he is free because if the full truth were told about his (and other related) cocaine families, it would inundate and collapse Los Angeles, and the state of California.
When the truth comes out about the 7th Day Church, and what happened there in August 1988, California, as a state government, is done. Wolves and Vampires are done.
The only way the United States of America will survive is if it stands up and tells the truth.
Until then, I stand as strong as I can, unto God and myself. And I still believe in love.
Happy New Year and God Bless.
