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Why Targeted Individuals should not hook up with other TIs


And why they do, anyway, and almost always regret it

Definition: Hook up: reside under the same roof for more than a week.

Copyright © 2012, all rights reserved. by H. Michael Sweeney, author of MC Realities: Understanding, Detecting,and Defeating Mind Control and Electronic Weapons of Political Control Technology. Permission to duplicate on-line hereby granted provide it is reproduced in full with all links in tact, and links back to proparanoid.wordpress.com

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The first thing to understand is who we are talking about; Targeted Individuals. The term is military in origin but is used by the intelligence community and law enforcement. That’s apt, because even though the kind of TIs I’m talking about are not a bona fide target of these groups for some justifiable cause (not terrorists, not criminals, not enemy spies), the technology and methods used in their targeting were developed by the military and intelligence communities, and corporate and collegiate partners.

More critically, the attacks they suffer as result by electronic weapons, gas lighting, street theater, dirty tricks, and psychological warfare, and so on, are more often than not at the hands of those self-same developers, as well as members of law enforcement. Not officially of course. There is no such thing as the boogeyman. Ask any Judge, Psychiatrist, Congressman, or Lawman. They seem content to overlook the fact that the whole of the Political Control Technology employed is applied primarily for the purpose of making the victim seem to be a Paranoidal Schizophrenic.

They certainly overlook the mountain of official government documents and other evidence that every symptom of Schizophrenia can be simulated by such technology.

Enough on that. Well, not really, but to get more, read my book, MC Realities, which is the only self-defense book on topic on the market I’m aware of. What we really want to talk about is the tendency of TIs to want to hook up with other TIs for what they hope will provide a means of mutual support and protection. By ‘hook up,’ of course, I mean close interpersonal relationships which include sharing of housing, with or without romantic intentions.

Well, yes and no to that notion. While there is some useful psychological support value in having someone of kindred spirit to share in burdens born of like difficulties, as a rule (there are exceptions), I have long advised against it in the strongest of terms.

 mind control psychotropic weapons DEW voice to skull

 Here’s why; what I see as the risks involved.

1)   It decreases security rather than increasing it, as it can result in each TI gaining as new enemies those involved in the targeting of the other TI(s).  But that is not the worst of it, because where that happens, it becomes such a tangle that if someone like myself comes along to try and resolve the issue, there are suddenly too many clues to sift through to determine anything truly useful in defense or offense — a matter which is tough enough to resolve with just one set of attackers.

2)   It almost always turns out that one of the TIs is accused of being a perp (perpetrator) disguised as a TI in order to get closer in and do more damage. More likely all will end up accusing each other, even where no one is guilty. It is the nature of the natural paranoia generated by being targeted which fosters such fears, and any such fears, when unfounded, always grow until some bit of circumstance seems to tender hard evidence when it may simply be coincidence. But it is also true that many times, one or more of the parties actually are perps.

3)   Any defensive strategies tend to become doubly complex and twice as difficult to mange to good end, which means each TI is neutered somewhat in the effort. There can also develop bickering over the best approach which further hampers such efforts.

  mind control psychotropic weapons DEW voice to skull

There are reasons why my advice is ignored, and of course, only a small percentage of TI’s even get to hear my advice. For every TI we hear about, there are many, many more who are afraid to tell anyone out of fear of being termed mentally ill. Too — I’m not exactly a household name, so not all the ones who do come forward know I even exist. But here are the reasons my advice is ignored by those who do get to hear it:

a)   They are so emotionally victimized that the temptation to find and leverage some small hope for kindred support and understanding overrides logic. In like manner, they are so depressed by the constant lack of privacy and security that the hope of increased security from a helpmate also overrides logic.

b)   They foresee a possible savings of money through shared expenses, money being something all TIs tend to have too little of thanks to the targeting, which commonly involves financial dirty tricks such as repeat sabotage of vehicles, cancelling insurance policies, and worse, including getting them fired with rumor mongering.

c)   They often feel they have ‘been around the block’ as a TI long enough to spot a perp and have some confidence they are insulated from risk. Wrong. Almost always.

  mind control psychotropic weapons DEW voice to skull

A Simple but Tragic Case Example:

A TI client who had suspended my services for a time elected to hook up with another TI. The basis was that they were both ‘on the run’ in hopes of evading targeting, or so it seemed. My client was already mobile because of a need to travel in work duties (a respected person of useful credentials in their chosen field, as it happens).  The other TI claimed to have been forced to vacate a Safe House provided by FFCHS (Freedom From Covert Harassment and Surveillance), claiming it unsafe there, and of poor sanitary condition. That was far from the true reason, but there was no means to check it out, and the client did not even attempt it, presuming in error anyone coming through FFCHS must be a legitimate victim.

So it was concluded of mutual benefit that they might travel together and share expenses, defenses, and information about their individual targeting. The first few days went well enough, but before a week had transpired, it ended in disaster. The short version is that it appears the refugee from FFCHS was not only a perp, but a sadistic psychopathic criminal of another sort: he produced a gun, made threats, and later raped his companion multiple times, and then ran off owing money. This took place immediately after I was invited to meet with them, it perhaps being my presence which spooked the perp into flight. Perhaps not.

But he had also gotten access to her email and sent out email in her name, presumably to sabotage relationships, and there was an incident which seems to have been aimed at thwarting me from providing helps, perhaps intended to scare me away (a third-party companion player showed up at our agreed upon meeting place, and their car was later in the day found in my personal parking spot where I live). It did not frighten me (read my books and you will see I’m quite foolish about things which should perhaps frighten me).

But it did not help my being involved, either, as the refugee also tried to convince my client that she should no longer have anything to do with me. After it was made clear our relationship would continue, it was that same night that it all went sour — as described above.

 mind control psychotropic weapons DEW voice to skull

Summary lessons learned (hopefully)

Regardless of good intentions and hope, the risks of hooking up for mutual advantage is generally a risky affair. I only know of one instance where it worked out long term, and there were unusual circumstances which included additional third-party, non victim helps. These acted like a checks and balances to help get them over the rough spots. And to repeat, I’m talking about the natural growth of suspicion of each other which transpires even when one of them is not a perp.

By all means, collaborate and share information on-line. Even meet in groups, large or small, to share information and give emotional support. But please try to avoid commitments to share living space and all that goes along with being targeted. It is a trap no matter how it plays out, one which leaves both sides feeling betrayed, hurt, and more frustrated than before, or one side victimized yet again to the same end.

PLEASE: Comment (page bottom, or contact me), Rate (at page top), Share/Tweet this article. Visit my Reader Forum to promote your own cause or URL.

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I would also like readers to know about the Free Will Society to Aid Targeted Individuals, organized on Facebook as a Group. Please give it a visit. If it helps, also please know that I offer a free Helps Kit, sample newsletter on Political Control Technology, and free 30 days on-line consulting to Tis. Contact me.

Future Dread: A Prologue (to the fatal rebirth of Man)


Prologue from the book, Fatal Rebirth, by H. Michael Sweeney, (which in 1999 predicted the WTC being brought down by jet liners and resulting in Middle East Oil Wars). Note: the prologue is not where such details are introduced, though it is hinted at.

Permissions granted to duplicate this post in its entirety complete with special discount offer at page bottom and with all links in tact, but please advise having done so as a comment to this blog (or to me by email to proparanoid at century link net), which will further serve to send readers to your pages.

Future Dread: A Prologue

The streets of New York in the fall of 1999 were brisk. Brisk weather to be sure; it was both cold and windy, people tugged at their coat collars and hunched their shoulders to keep their necks warmly covered. Brisk also the foot traffic, both because it was cold enough to demand reasonable haste, and because to most New Yorkers, there is always a sense of urgency in the crowd. But amid the sea of bustle, one lone figure stood out, a solitary human island seemingly unaware of either the weather or the crowd’s urgency. Yet this assumption would be false. Though he stood patiently, virtually an obstacle to the pulsing crowds that flowed steadily past him, he had his own kind of desperate urgency. He was on a sacred mission.

Even from a distance he could be easily picked out of the sea of dispassionate humanity; his was the only head not bobbing to and fro. Too, there was his poster board sign. Its message indiscernible, it danced atop the carpet of undulating heads as if obeying some steady rhythm of its own; high, then low, turning briefly, then back and high once more. The sign was tracking people unfortunate enough to have made eye contact with the man. The belief was that it made it easier for them to read. All it really seemed to do was to intimidate them, and cause them to give wider berth.

Nearer, one large word could be read upon the sign, but it was madness, the kind of word rejected out of hand by reasonable people, and especially by people in a hurry, and even more so if they were New Yorkers. They had already seen every bizarre thing the city could offer, and generally knew when some kind of repeat performance was threatening their psyche. Better to tune it out than to think about it. After all, who wants to wonder about…

DOOMSDA Y!

Closer, the man can be heard ranting at the crowd, chastising them with his message of terrible doom. Regardless, it was meaningless to those asleep in their own thoughts of the day, of deeds already done or things yet undone. No time for abstract words hung in the air like so many taxi cab horns; far too easy to ignore, his unwanted words were a mere murmuring amongst the city’s noise. No reason to pay attention, to turn on the brain and listen or to actually think about what was being said; noisy distractions such as these have no value to those in a hurry.

Closer yet, he was fully revealed as the crowd parted to avoid him, and he somehow exploded into the consciousness against one’s natural will. His stark white robe and turban, and a long white beard gave him a glowing reality in the noonday sun. Hard on the eyes but even harder to turn away, seizing attention as if by gunpoint. Something about his eyes, perhaps, or his dark leathery skin, or just the fierceness in his expression. His intensity and sincerity were cocked and aimed as effectively as a menacing handgun.

Now, his words penetrated despite the crowd’s happy apathy, and the sign accentuated without remorse. The would-be passerby was accosted with certainty, and was forced to decide: pretend not to see him, or actually dare to contemplate him. He shouted his message, a hint of foreign dialect adding a scary flavor: For many, this broke any remaining will to ignore, and briefly thrust them into his reality.

“Heed my words! The judgment of the God of Abraham is upon us! Repent for your sins! The Tribulation is at hand! I have seen the vision! The Year 2000 will usher in the Antichrist! There will be seven years of terror and tribulation, wars between nations and great religions, and then shall rise Gog and Magog! I have seen the vision! The towers of civilization will fall and thousands will perish! Millions will die soon after! Repent and be saved! I have seen the vision!”

The simple message was repeated, the enthusiasm seemingly greater than before, and it is echoed in the sign’s details ‘Tribulation comes! Beware the Antichrist! Repent and be saved!The letters were large and black, but of childish quality, making it easier for some to discount their meaning. The absurdity of a man dressed like a Middle-East Cleric using Christian-sounding slogans gave others reason to ignore what, to them, was simply another New York moment.

People largely pretended not to see him, or to hear his words, and increased their pace in order to insure he did not think they had. Those who did give him attention promptly decided they did not subscribe; they looked away quickly as they walked around him and even ducked to ignore the sign which seemed to follow them briefly. A few, mostly the young and unemployed, spat or cursed at the man, or even lashed out physically to intimidate him. Undaunted, he continued. He was on a mission. He had seen the vision.

Unconvinced, the crowd passed by and quickly reacquired their original purpose, course, and close-mindedness.

No. They did not subscribe. They didn’t have time. Not then. But little did they know that the future held enough terror for them that they might have been better off to stop, to listen, and to heed. Indeed, the wheels were already set in unstoppable motion, turning through time much faster than anyone would wish; irresistible and undeniable gears in the clockworks of prophesy. Not just Biblical, but also, Satanic prophesies wrought real in the Shadows of the Northwoods of ancient realms. New York City would soon have its private little doomsday.

Towers would fall, thousands would perish. And that was only the beginning. It would be called the beginning of a war. Some, those perhaps more wise… in some cases more guilty than most… would say the beginning of the end. But that was not quite right, either. It was, more correctly, to be the beginning of the End Game Scenario…

For some, the actual countdown had begun a decade earlier. For others, it was four decades earlier, and earlier still for yet others — much earlier. It seems that a Shadow is a fleeting thing only when exposed to the truth men call light. Yet a Shadow able to live in darkness moves slowly and methodically, and is free to set its own timetables with the luxury of decades, or even centuries, to allow for their unfolding. When immortal, and working through the greed of man, time is a plaything. It whispers a word… ‘Illuminati.’

Darkness, you see, has a special patience. It waits so easily. It waits for you and for me until it is our time, much like a poisonous spider awaits its meals. And when, like a fly caught in a web, we are suddenly taken by our waiting spider without warning, without recourse, only just then will we understand our role as victim. Yet even so, we will fail to understand how we came to our fate. We never saw the cunning, the deceit, the dark plans. We never understood the true meaning of all that had led us to the moment.

Our eagerness to center on self was the bait used to lure us too near the web. Our blindness to truth was the web spun to ensnare us, and to wrap us into neat little meals surrounded by silken lies. Our petty hatreds and prejudices, and fears were the poisons which paralyzed us. In such a state, we were tender morsels ready to be consumed. Yea, some of us were even unaware well after the meal had begun. Devoured in a dumbed-down bliss, blind to the pain of bitter truth, perhaps they were the lucky ones after all.

So it is with the ultimate Shadow form, the one who had been working in darkness since before Adam and Eve. So it is with his finely crafted web, one spun ever larger and more infallible over the centuries. So it is with his deft application of our favorite poisons, dividing us for the final conquering. The whole of the effort had only one goal; End Game was one of his best and most anticipated plans… and unfortunately, by its inevitable workings, our time is now. Drink the poison deeply, and enjoy it while you can…

… for the final sleep is almost upon us all.

***

Special note to the reader: If you like the above, you may also wish to read a glimpse of the Introduction from the four-book set. I am also pleased to make a dramatic discount offer to my blog readers, and I hope you will appreciate my reasoning, because I am also lifting copyright restrictions to allow you to share with friends (CDR version, only):

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Then PLEASE Read Fatal Rebirth. But if you don’t really fear these things or care because you trust the powers that be, then you MUST READ Fatal Rebirth! I think these things are far too important for you not to know, because it could mean the difference between freedom and slavery, or even death. The NWO is at your doorstep and they won’t bother to knock! PLEASE wake up NOW, and take some steps in your defense! What do you have to loose if I’m wrong other than some time learning things you didn’t know (over 1,500 footnotes and huge Appendix sections.) Feedback thus far consistently describes it as an enjoyable and illuminating read.

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Now, if you already know you want all four volumes and think you would like to spread the word, I’m also offering a special price on the CDR version AND LIFTING COPYRIGHT RESTRICTIONS so that you may give away copies of the CDR to people you know (face-to-face giving, not electronic or Web distribution). They do not enjoy the same rights unless making a payment, but they may do so at the same price. The price was originally $90 because of extra bonus materials included, but you can order it for just $28 postpaid. This offers is to U.S. Residents, only.

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