List of U.S. Govt. Sponsored Psychics & Remote Viewers

Here is the first one:

Knoxville, Tennessee. U.S.A.

First, I am going to upload the latest appearance of the laser mark on my arm. Even though I have no marks, since this afternoon, I have been subjected to torture here, while on my laptop writing or when I sat at a table at my parent's house. The fact that I cannot show immediate marks does not mean it is not occuring here, in Coquille, Oregon, U.S.A.

The U.S. and FBI have allowed torture of me and my son since 2006 and for me, I believe it possibly started sooner but I was unaware of some of it. It wasn't until 2006, though, that it was unmistakably abnormal, where it had escalated to the point of very serious crimes. I say something may have been going on earlier, because of migraines I had at the time which had no rhyme or reason, and then later discovering some group was intentionally triggering them to occur at a time they assumed I was having my period.

Not only has the FBI been directly involved, they have been instrumental in acting as "secret police", such as you might find in a dictatorship, for the purposes of covering up for those who commit these crimes. The FBI has also been directly involved in defamation of my character, in bribery of other law enforcement officials, and has violated their mandate and oath to uphold the Constitution of the United States to protect and serve. The FBI knows beyond any shadow of doubt, that they were and are the organization to investigate the crimes I've reported to them on a number of occasions. And the organization of FBI has, as a group, willfully violated their oaths. They knowingly allowed crime to occur to my son and participated in collection of records and documentation of my son as a number in the system, and an object of research.

My first example of improper use of me by U.S. government officials, is going to be Knoxville, TN. I am able to testify that the U.S. not only violated an oath to protect and serve when they knew I was being tortured, they then mocked and harassed me and kept me out of safe housing. They then falsely arrested me with charges of making "improper 911 calls" which they already knew were not improper. I didn't have marks on my body to prove it, but they knew I was being tortured. Not only did they torture me, they then continued to try to invalidate me and smear my reputation by arresting me on false charges and then, to make matters worse, they acted as opportunistic pirrana and parasites and used the occasion of my detainment to serve their own personal interests in non-consensual research of human beings.

I would encourage anyone to look up the date of my arrest and then examine the records of others who were arrested that night.

After they arrested me on false charges of "Making improper 911 call" they said they wanted to let the firemen at the fire station check my blood pressure and maybe something else. They wanted to take a sample of something. I said "No, I would rather not" and after I said I would rather not, then he told me we were going to go to the psych ward then. I know for a fact now that I was even then heavily sedated and being drugged. I had no feeling in my body aside from being able to feel pain from torture. I believe the FBI and U.S. deliberately used medication of me as an excuse to say any effects I suffered from being poisoned thereafter, or tortured, were just psychotic claims and not real.

He was going to take me to the psych ward, I guess to check on the effects of my medications or health, which I was not consensually taking but I had been drugged and doped up more than once. So the officer was on the phone with someone and got out of the car after parking and told me to wait. He decided to call for a paddy wagon to the Knoxville detention center instead.

So instead of taking me to a psych ward to allow others to use me like a guinea pig, he decided to have me sent to a jail. A "special" jail, where they do horrible things to people who are in there. The driver and officer for the paddy wagon arrived and they talked for almost an hour. Then, I was put in the back of the van, in what amounted to a dog cage again.

(by the way, what the Americans in Iran were sentenced to is NOTHING compared to what my son and I have been through. If you noticed, Iran is giving them a total of 10 years and I am going to give the rest of the world 10 U.S. sponsored psychics and remote viewers for what the U.S. has done to me and Oliver Garrett. If you don't recall, the U.S. kidnapped one of their own people and had that man entrapped to work for the CIA in Arizona, while everyone thought things "looked" so "normal" from the outside.)

So I am a completely innocent citizen. I am a U.S. citizen with U.S. birth certificate and this is ONE example of ONE horrific thing the FBI has done and allowed to happen to me.

After they tortured me, and degraded me to the lowest possible levels, by refusing me any kind of safe or normal housing, or work, or anything, and while following me around and mocking me and making fun of me, they arrested me. They arrested me for daring to call 911 while I was in emergency circumstances.

Obama, while you're in Martha's Vineyard eating your hot dog, maybe you could explain to me and my son, how it is possible to call the U.S. a "Free Country" when citizens are under these kinds of conditions. In your OWN country. And it's not just Obama, it's those around him who pressured and blackmailed and bribed him not to do anything.

So I was sitting in this paddy-wagon. It was metal, all the way around and it had this partition in the center dividing the van into 2 parts. There was a metal bench going all the way around. It looked like a milkman's truck or an ambulance on the outside. The door was in the back and you had to bend over to get in and then he closed the door and there was this small hard solid plastic window where I was able to look out and see the cop's car. And in those circumstances, I practiced my kickboxing on the door. Not for the first whole hour we were parked there, but after I wondered what they were waiting for. So I know I kicked the door but not with all my might.

Then they opened the door and this blond woman comes into the back of the truck. I knew then and there that they had stalled leaving and deliberately waited in order to call her up and have her go with me. She got in and acted slightly drunk and said she had been picked up for a probation violation for a DUI. She acted pleasant enough and I didn't talk and then she kept looking at me and finally I said, "You're not going to jail. They're going to let you out because you're working with them." She said right and was sarcastic and acted drunk again. And I asked how they picked her up and she said she'd tripped. She was slender and long-limbed and was either into yoga, dance, or swimming, the way she draped her legs about. She was wearing a long flowing skirt but she still still had this languid drapiness with her limbs, like a Charleston flapper. She asked if I was afraid and I said no and I wasn't crying at all. She said finally, after I said to her "You're not going to get into the CIA because I already know you're doing psychic work and if you can't cover for yourself and I can pick you up, you're not going to be hired." Then she said, what was I, paranoid? or crazy? that I would think such a thing. She said she'd been drunk and originally ran into a police car and I said, "Oh, that's a nice cover. You ran into a cop car of all things. What? Your boyfriends'?" I had something about how she was involved with police in some way first and then she said she ran into a cop's car and that's how she was caught. She then said they were going to send me to a psych ward. I said, "It doesn't matter. Nothing they can do will be worse than what they've already done." I added, "I will be wherever, and it's not like I haven't been falsely arrested or detained before and all I know is that when I am out, I am leaving this country." Then I said, "You're probably some Ukranian kid with a blond Russian or Ukranian mother and got recruited by the U.S. for psychic work." She said she was a social worker. Or teacher of elementary school children. She sort of said both. I just kept saying over and over "You're not going to get into the CIA." I also told her I imagined she had been rifling through some kind of metal file cabinet. I said, "You don't work there? so you haven't gone through a file cabinet there?"

Then we were out of the wagon and the guards had her go ahead of me.

I knew on that night, that the main reason the Knoxville, TN police and FBI and "others" had arrested me, was only for their own discovery.

They were sickos.

After the Knoxville police went OUT of their way to harass me and provoke me, and with what they were doing to me, and the intensity of the torture and level, I knew it was being set up. I tried to document what was happening without being detained, but then when they arrested me, I knew this was their plan all along and that they had allowed me to be tortured and provoked me, for the very purpose of getting me into confines so they could strip search me again. This time, I knew what they wanted. They wanted to know if I had money on me and they wanted to see my bra.

As soon as I was arrested, I knew the only reason I was being detained, was to try to get more discovery on me, and for the glee club. They had intentionally abused me and tortured me and now they wanted to be able to report back about whether or not I had sewn money into my bra as some of their shitty psychics who have no moral bone in their bodies, said I had.

They used me to benefit their own. They degraded me for the purposes of their "paid" people.

I knew this. I sat in there and knew. That wasn't the only reason, but it was a big reason. All it was, was to try to take every and any semblance of privacy and humanity from me. As it turned out, they not only wanted discovery, they wanted to drug me again with a transthermal method, and handprint my entire hand. They wanted to give one of their psychics a "shot" at me, while I was there and they caged me up to be confined with her. Then they wanted to leave me with more charges on my record to cover up for everything they had done.

As soon as they took me out of the crate, the guard told me to take my shirt off and I said I wasn't comfortable doing that in the presence of the male guard. I had a tank top on beneath and didn't want to take my other shirt off in front of him. So I said, "It goes against my religious values" and then she frisked me and then they said I had to be fingerprinted.

I knew they were using me for psychic research for sure when I was being fingerprinted. I knew it immediately because I had "seen" it when I was still in the wagon with the blond. I saw their fingerprinting machine and I had never seen one like that before, but I saw it, in the mind's eye, how I sometimes see things. So I saw their fingerprinting machine before I was ever in front of it. I saw someone's fingers over it, hovering above it.

As soon as they put me in front of the machine, and knowing I had seen it, and knowing the blond was a psychic or remote viewer, I knew I was absolutely, 100%, being used as a human guinea pig for non-consensual psychic and mind control and drug research by the U.S.

This was not out in a cafe. It was not in some random store. It was being done on U.S. government property, carried out through U.S. government vehicles, and on U.S. government property by U.S. government employees.

It was at this time that I first fully accepted and knew why my son's return to me had been blocked. They were using my son for the very same things and they knew that only his mother was the one daring to defy government control.

The man who was taking my fingerprints, didn't seem to me like an ordinary officer. I never said anything to anyone about him, but I intuited he was with some other agency. Or he was of much higher intelligence than most fingerprinting people, so I wondered why he was the one in charge of more menial tasks.

So they took my fingerprints and side hand prints, and full handprints, all the way up to my wrists.

Then, this female guard put me into a room where there was a mirror and I believe it was a 2-way mirror where someone on the other side could look in and see. And then there was a dressing room inside the room and I was told to strip and hand over my clothes. I did, immediately, and then I took money out of my bra, and said I had money to give them but it needed to be counted out.

The guard opened the door and when she saw my bra and the color of the inside inserts, she went from looking like I had just had sex with her very own man, to almost crying at the same time because she was so livid by the "betrayal". I gave her my white bra and fushia colored inserts which I had sewn money into. And I was trying to give her the money but she went ballistic. The woman flipped out and as soon as I saw how she was reacting, I thought, "She is with Mossad." Then I thought, or is she with some Catholic group? All I knew was that her reaction was not the normal reaction of a normal officer. This was after I had been detained in the psych ward, and then fired on April 29th, and mocked, and then Osama bin ladin had been killed the day after.

This woman acted like I had just given her the panties she saw her husband hiding under a pillow in her own house. It was this fury that there was no reasonable explanation for.

So she screamed, "Hand over the money!!!" and I said, "I am!" and I had my hands stretched out to her. My hands were open, and my arms stretched out with my palms open and money held out and I said, "I need you to count it out in front of me." And then, while I was standing there ...oh, actually, I handed her the bra and inserts first, and she was already pissed. Now I remember. So when she opened the door, I was basically nude in just my underpants and I had money in my hands that was stretched out to give her. And she looked like first she'd tried not to burst into tears and then she became this wretch of venom. I couldn't figure out if she was pissed to think that I had any money and was wondering if a man was giving it to me and was afraid of who, or if it was the idea of my bra and the colors of the pads inside, because she was already flipping out over that.

I actually think I maybe had 2 kinds and gave them both to her. One was blue and the other was fushia. The one went over so it wasn't bulky. I had one and then later a woman gave me another set which I used so it wasn't bulky. But I had sewn the money into the fushia ones. I handed them over separately. Or maybe I didn't have the blue ones with me. I don't remember. I just know that I had taken the fushia ones which I'd had for a long time, and I made a small slit and then put money in and stitched it up with white thread. I did it while I was in the shower stall at the Middle TN YMCA. And I felt those women's lockerrooms had hidden cameras. I could 'feel' it. So I went to the shower stall and did it with the water running, while I stood next to the stream. I took out my sewing kit.

And then, while the door was open and facing this mirror or wall with the window or whatever, she screamed that I was going to be "sorry" and she took out her personal hatred onto me. She threw me up against the wall, when I was naked, and left the door open for anyone to see. She then threw my arms behind my back after screaming for me to get on my knees, and then she twisted handcuffs on me and yanked my arms up behind my back, backwards, and twisted. She kept screaming at me. I had been polite and cooperative the entire time, and never resisted. I had only asked if they could count out my money first. I didn't make any fast moves. I was nude. I did nothing wrong. She slammed me up against the wall, and twisted my arms and broke my hands. I have X-rays to prove it.

Then, she put a white blanket, folded up like a towel shape, around me and dragged me nude across the room, down a hall, past a lot of male guards, and threw me into a solitary confinement room with windows all at the top section and told me to put my arms above my head on the wall. I said, "If I do the blanket will fall" and there was a male guard standing there. So the other woman held it up and threw a smock at me.

When I stood up, I saw they had put me in a room next to a metal filing cabinet like the one I saw, in my mind's eye, on the way to the detention center. And they put me in the room right next to it. I looked at my arms and wrists and I had a welt from when this woman had yanked my hands behind my back.

I knew before she injected me with something, that something was going to be done. As soon as she was handcuffing me and twisting my arms up and to the side, I knew she was doing something with a drug. And when I was in the room, I looked and I had this huge round welt like you get after vaccinations, and it had a round center like where there had been a needle. And that welt was there all the way until I was in Oregon and I could still feel it, swollen on my arm, a week or two later. I had a welt from a drug for at least 1 month after it was given to me. It looked like a huge spider bite. It wasn't from the handcuffs. You could tell by looking and also, I knew from my mind's eye, before she injected me or drugged me, that one of them was doing this to me.

Then they left me in this room and tortured me. Someone was using some kind of technology right there in the Knoxville detention center. And they used it on me while I was in this solitary room.

Then they took me out and I knew they wanted me to be near the blond woman again. And sure enough, they led me to this large room with glass all the way around. It was just windows all the way around, open for anyone to look into. It was a basic lab rat cage. And the blond was sitting there on a bench and they had me go in there after I wouldn't eat or drink anything. So they gave me this brown paper bag with the food and 2 cartons of milk.

The blond was sitting there smirking and staring at me.

And I saw where she had put her milk cartons and she had a napkin on the floor in a certain way. It was like that before I got there. I knew, "They set this room up for her, or allowing her to set this room up, to mark it out and use it for their research." And she just left the white napkin on the floor and the cartons a certain way and I got upset and drank some of it and then tossed the bag to the side and I saw that it landed exactly where she had placed her markers, and milk spilled from here, into the same shape and spot where she had put her white napkin.

At that point, fully recognizing I had been 100% correct, and the blond was a government psychic, and they were using me, I said out loud, "I demand to be released at once, and if you don't, you will be sued for violations of the Geneva Convention for abusive and degrading treatment."

And then after I said this, they came to the room immediately. They knew I knew. They knew I knew everything.

And I was on the other side of the glass, in my own country, as a slave. I was worse than a slave. I was a guantanamo inmate subject to torture at all times. It was Yodak. And the fact they did this on U.S. owned property, doesn't mean the government doesn't think they don't own the entire country. And wherever I have been in this country, I had been their lab rat.

And I knew that this is what they had been doing to me in "the wildlife habitat" before they put me in psych wards and jail to try out their crap in confined spaces.

The U.S. deliberately stopped people from helping me. They were too interested in squeezing me and following me around while I was helpless.

After the blond set up her "craft" to show how cool she was to U.S. government officials, and they all knew I "had" them, and knew, when they released us, me and the blond at the same time, they had me put in one side on my own and the blond was put into the other side with some men. And I cried the entire way back. I sobbed. I didn't cry. I sobbed the entire way back. I knew why she got out of the room when she did, because she didn't want to be there when I had my assertions about her confirmed. And then on the way back, she was probably worried I was going to beat the hell out of her. No. I'm not a violent type. And instead, she got what she wanted and told me from her side of the truck, to "shut up" repeatedly. After I was sobbing and she kept going on casually, telling me to get a grip I finally yelled louder than I've ever yelled in my life: FUCK YOU! and then the driver stopped, got out and came to the back and said one more outburst and I'd go back.

I'D go back? Right. Me. The torture victim, because I said "fuck you" to criminals who work for the U.S., get paid to do this work, humiliate me with no injury to themselves, and who have stolen everything from me out of jealousy because they knew a long time ago, that I would have gone much farther than they could have ever dreamed of going. It takes billions, by the way, to shut down a talented woman. And it doesn't take very much for idiots to think their "pick" is going to be the next great thing. It doesn't matter how you dress it up...

The blond woman. GET HER. Get, more importantly, those employees who work for the U.S. who participated in this cruel and degrading treatment of another human being.

When I saw the news about Osama bin ladin having "sewn money into his clothing" for a "getaway" I knew all the U.S. and others, in other countries, wanted to do, was hope it prompted me to speak up about my sewing money into my clothing. And I never told anyone. I also knew that someone was spreading that around, and calling it a "getaway plan" to tell someone about me. I knew someone was trying to use it symbolically and they wanted me to say, "Oh how weird, that's what I did..." I figured someone wanted to try to make a point, or attempt to link me to him in some way. Or, they just wanted to get off on how they used both of us for mind control research.

Instead, they tortured me more and stripped me of all human dignity and they wanted discovery on me.

They have violated every single thing that there is to possibly violate.

Where is the compensation for me and my son? Where is my son?

This is a country that not only protected those who tortured me, they helped to SPONSOR it.

The FBI hates me, my life, and the FBI has hated my son and sponsored torture of my son, Oliver Garrett.

All the while, they have called ME crazy and tried to degrade me and invalidate any of my claims. They have committed high crimes and misdemeanors, by every definition of the law.

High crimes and misdemeanors.

No, I'm not paranoid schitzophrenic and I'm not even paranoid.

I am a victim of torture and human right crimes, in my own country and others who hated me have loved every minute of this "justified" way to ruin my life, opportunities, gifts, and chances.

We have been tortured by criminals and adversaries that collaborated and colluded with other government officials to use, abuse, torture, and humiliate me. These people abducted my son and gave false testimony in order to keep him from me and LIED to all the Good People In America about what has been going on.

Yeah, and the blond, she knew all the people there already, and not because she was in for DUIs.

It's not like I'm a total idiot either, or I wouldn't have been able to pick out a loser and what the loser was up to in the first 2 minutes.

So who else is into old cars?

Because I have a 2002 quarter that says it's not just Dick Whittemore.

I just looked up old cars and "Middletons". I've never checked. The first thing I saw was that Kate Middleton's father drove a Phantom VI.

Nothing like the phantom orchid from "The Orchid Thief" I'm sure.

That family is totally absolutely criminal. And supported by criminals and major mobsters who have government links. What was on the cufflinks by the way? Maybe someone could coach Michael on how to laugh looking forward rather than guffawing to the moon.

How do we tie Michael and Gary to crimes occuring in the U.S.?

Let's dial F.B.I.

Who is available for parties? The United Arab Emerites and Saudi Arabia. Surprise? Not so much. There's a whole lot of Middleton we don't know about and she will always and forever be middleton just like the rest of her social climbing and scheming family. What about James? the brother with enough interest to send over his pals to the U.S. to buy bribes. What was he doing on Halloween that year anyway?

Y'know, the Halloween where I showed up dressed as "The Orchid Thief" (phantom orchid). Let's see, there was a whole table of English accents there. One guy with dark brown curly hair.