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by Mimek

Florida. But to me this could ancient Vietnam or prehistoric plains of central America. It's one of those pictures that captures a mome...

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I've often wondered what it would look like if we could plunge ourselves into Jupiter's atmosphere. What wonders of cloud formations an...

For some reason this piece reminds me of France in the autumn, which is curious since I've never been to France, much less during the a...

Mysterious, full of intrigue, and yet filled with a gentle visual calm, this piece beckons a kind of naturalistic mysticism. Imagine yo...


So, we're back to online harassment.  Only this time it's this person;…

Flagrantly using an aimbot on the Insurgency servers.

There's another person on another game who's "in the know" of my alleged amorous-game, if you will, and she started playing said game around ... what now, 2012?  Maybe 2011.  And she flagrantly hacks, and will not accept a challenge to another game.

"Gee, mister Blue-Jedi, don't you have a lot of time on your hands to bitch about something that may just be regular cheating and not aimed at you?"

Yes, I do, but the hacking comes in various forms, and it's pretty obvious when it's aimed at my person as opposed to someone just fucking around and trying to be a big man, an annoyance, or just a plain piece of shit.

Games are part of who I am, and hacking that's aimed at me has a certain flavor, verse general hacking of someone just trying to get ahead in a game through cheating.
I am not motivated to do anything.

My privacy was violated, and everything I tried to achieve on my own was seemingly hinted at from a third party.  

The history;
1) I didn't date because I was losing my temper.
2) I lost my temper because someone was spiking my food with steroids.
3) I did not know someone was putting steroids in my food.
4) I was also raised "from a distance" by family I did not know I had.
5) Said family had some importance back in the 1960s and 1970s.
6) Said family used psychiatry (not psychology) to keep tabs on me.
7) Said family are fundamentalist Catholics.
8) Said family objected to my atheism.
9) Said family dictated my friends.
10) The woman I knew as my mother may have had some family issues.
11) Because I was losing my temper the local girls thought that this was how I "expressed" affection.
12) To this extent I was harassed as a means to hook me up.
13) I had plans to seek a woman I liked.
14) I kept getting harassed, see 12
15) The local PD were recieving instructions from a psychiatrist was NOT Burton White, but possible Sean S.
16) Through psychiatric analysis the steroids I received were thought to be an emotional (possibly neurological) expression of sexual frustration.
17) Therefore the psychiatric solution was to harass me even more.
18) There were attempts to artificially create symptoms of deep psychiatric disorders to make me "realize" my dreams.
19) Therefore more harassment.
20) In addition to steroids someone was putting anti-depressants into my food.
21) Someone criminally broke into my home over a period of 12 or more years to do so.
22) This action also took place back in 1992 after my mother passed away.
23) This action also took place in high school and college when I was losing my temper, specifically on the road.
24) Continued reptition of psychiatric abuse has led me to the previous conclusions.
25) Because my mother worked for the US Navy, personnel in the navy were involved.

It's important to note here that I'm not impuning the armed forces nor all personnel serving in the navy and elsewhere.  But there really has been a real tragic misunderstanding of what I was put through.

In addition, reflecting upon my life, I was also used as a guinea pig or bait for various suspects.  That's in addition to the ridicule and being picked on in school.  In spite of that, in spite of all the drugs that were pumped into me, in spite of all the harassment, and all the other experimentation, I think I turned out okay considering.

I really wanted to write professionally for my favorite RPG, but only on the side.  I truly did.  I still do, but will not post anymore freebees.  That dream was crushed by both the local PD and navy, not to mention this "other family".  I also wanted to make a series of fan films for it, but that door is slammed shut.

I'm guessing the desired result is that I throw in the towel and hook up with a woman who will understand and help me emotionally mend.

Well, for the umpteenth time, the whole effort behind what I wanted to do was to get myself in a professional footing doing something, something I liked, so that I could go out and mingle with the opposite sex and realize all my dreams.  

This will never happen now.  And every time I think of this my blood boils.   What's worse is that there are records of it, and I can't access them.

What's worse is that there was a deliberate effort to harass me out of my life.  An effort that continues to this day.  Possibly to this very hour.

I'll put it to all parties involved, and that includes Doctors Ross and White who knew a good portion of what I went through, though probably didn't know about the steroids (I certainly didn't); what do you all think is going to happen?  Even if I die, what do you think is going to happen?

And, better yet, was it worth it?  Because I'll tell you this right now, if I am "reunited" with the family I was separated from at birth, it'll be a disastrous affair.

I was not allowed to make my own friends.
I was not allowed to pursue the career paths I wanted to.
I was illegally ABUSED with antidepressants and steroids.

That's not to mention all the people I met at DunDracon who knew I was coming and interacted with me seemingly knowing who I was.  That's not to mention the boneheaded effort to see that I got romantically involved with women, including a sex therapist or two (names withheld).

I still get the odd look from the occasional person.  Big deal.  The local PD and Sheriff's offices are no longer following me in an attempt to press my paranoid buttons to see if I have some latent paranoia ... doing a brake check on southbound 280 on Mothers' Day  not withstanding.   And the local Indian / Pakistani / Catholic populations seemed to have backed off.  And, I'm no longer getting helpful hints on the film industry board I frequent.  

I hate to talk about myself in the 3rd person, but I like George.  I like George now more than ever before.  But George, that is me, never had a chance because the deck was stacked against him for 40+ years of his life for the aforementioned reasons.  But George came out victorious.  A little poorer and battered for the effort, but triumphant all the same.

"Gee, mister Blue-Jedi.  Aren't you afraid you'll be committed to a facility?"

No.  This is all my "opinion", but I think if I can even scrounge up a fraction of evidence and put it before a judge, or, more likely, the Supreme court (no, I'm not joking) I'll be able to put this to the nation as to whether they think this was a good course of action or not in terms of my upbringing.  I'm thinking the American public, being the decent people that we are, will say "no".

"Gee, mister Blue-Jedi.  If you're family were or are as important as you say they were, then aren't you scared for your life?"

Eh, maybe a little concerned, but not really.  I don't have any political or military secrets, and even if I did, then I'd be surrounded by throngs of security.  Maybe there's some militant somewhere who, if they discovered who I am, might be crazed enough to threaten me or make an attempt on my life.  But to what end?  I'm essentially an out of work game author and grip.  I had some ambitions, but they were crushed systematically, probably as a means to steer me into a career I don't want and to do the things these bastards tried to raise me for.

Nope.  Sorry.  Not going to happen.

"Gee, mister Blue-Jedi.  Aren't you delusional or paranoid?"

No.  I was repeatedly put through the aforementioned process as a means to get to the core of my issues.  When all along the central core issue was someone trying to make me more of a man with steroids, which emulated symptoms of another condition.  Which means that it was someone who was in the inner-circle of this effort who knew what was happening the entire time.  I'm sure they've been excised, especially since I no longer have explainable bouts of rage.

I'm just George.  that's all I ever wanted to be.  Someone wanted to "reunite me" with my "true heritage", and goodness knows I could use the money, but just on principle, as a man of science, as an atheist, as a man who loves visionary futures and creating things for people to enjoy, I simply refuse.

Like I said in previous blog entries, if you wanted to achieve the goals you wanted on the international stage, then you should have had better sense than to raise me the way you did.

Like I said, all of this could have been avoided if I had just been given to a regular Midwestern  or suburban couple, allowed to pursue my own scientific ambitions and engineering goals as well as goals in media.  I would have been a million times more successful than I am now, having to piece together everything I was forced to go through by ... piecing together this jigsaw of deceit and secrecy.  

What a load of shit.  Who in their right fucking mind thought that this was a good idea.  Seriously.  

What dumb ass thought this was a good plan?

"Gee, mister Blue-Jedi.  Aren't you afraid that you're going to be targeted for ridicule or suffering from some psychiatric disorder?"

No.  Not a chance.  I've got no agenda for anything other than to get my life in order.  And the bastards that have interfered with my life can now see the result of their efforts as I sit here, unemployed, outraged, unmotivated, pissed off, and otherwise uncooperative.

Essentially everything is now out in the open.  It is because I put it down here, and because I'm beyond angry at everything that's been done to my person and my life.

Maybe now I can get on with writing and shooting video.  I'll never achieve anything.  My dreams are absolutely destroyed because of you who were involved.

I'll never trust anyone in uniform, and certainly not the over-actors and prostitutes that I've had to deal with over the last 12 years.  

Someone wanted me to fail so I could "assume a title and station" in life.  Fuck you.  Fuck you and the fucking horse you rode in on.  Fuck you and your fucked up religion and your ass backwards way of fucked up thinking.  Because if we ever meet, male or female, whatever age, if you are responsible for what I went through, then I'll pound your ass into the pavement, and drive your fucking skull all the way to China with one hay-maker after another.

... maybe it's time I wrote the Supreme Court.
So, as of five minutes ago I had a video popup on my YouTube feed regarding DFNC.  I can only assume my net activity is still being tapped.  Therefore I refuse to help.

You can call me paranoid or delusional, but I've had 12 years of "coincidences" since I signed a waiver with the doctors, and apparently it's still in effect.

So, DFNC can remain DFNC for the rest of his fucking life.
So, I now have a better and clearer picture of what happened, and has more recently happened.  From what I gather I had some family from overseas who had some hopes for me, but that there was also a security factor involved.  It appears that I was watched over from a distance, and, to this end, someone wanted to make sure that I grew up "normally", or what they defined as normal.

A lot of strangeness is explained, and a lot of harassment I now understand may be beyond the pay grade of the local PD.  In fact, there is a chance that they were misled by an individual, or group of individuals, to suit their own agenda.

This thing has gotten so far out of hand that I can't even imagine anyone thinking that the way I was raised was a sound idea.  But, some dumb piece of shit psychologist (probably Navy) suggested the plan, and "my real parents" went for it.  Or, it could be this newly discovered family thought of the idea, and the whole thing was somehow botched .... eh, reflecting on my life, somewhere in the mid 70s.  

Why the mid-70s?  Because it's here that I had an incredibly strange incident with a bunch of Syrian kids throwing stones and woodchips at me.  This was in Modesto in a planned community next to San Juan Capistrano grade school.  That appears to have been the tipping point as they point blank asked me "what are you" meaning ethnicity.  I replied Hispanic, and they in turn said "We hate Mexicans".  Interesting.  At which point they threw more rocks.

The girl I was playing with made some female statement like "They're just trying to get your attention" or something to that effect.  Untrue.  They were being obnoxious like a lot of middle eastern people from troubled lands.

It also appears that whatever security measures were taken, they were breached around .... 1976?  Possibly earlier based on this incident, which occurred in 1977.  The ethnic question was posed again in or around 1983 or 1984, when I was a freshman at Hillsdale High School in San Mateo.  Only this time it was a variety of girls who were asking, although this may have been more motivated by hormonal drive some espionage effort.

I'm sorry if this sounds out there or "delusional", but it is in point in fact exactly what I've been through.  And a lot of events and other occurrences now make sense.  But, to answer the question on your mind, I don't appreciate it on any level.

So, to recap, there was, in contrast to Dr. Ross's attempt to convince me otherwise, some experimentation done with my upbringing.  There were security measures in place, much of which can be accented by a parent teacher conference I had with my mother and all of my teachers one morning at Bowditch.   I was failing academically (well, not failing, but not achieving, largely because of my forgetfulness, some of which is natural dyslexia, much of which I now attribute to interested parties slipping steroids into my food which created depressive symptoms).  Said conference, at the time, was unprecedented as these teachers had classes to teach, and they all sat around a table as my mother surveyed them like a general surveying troops, wondering why I was not performing better.  However, at that time, I was actually improving in my academic performance.  But the incident, in retrospect, is very telling of who I am verse who I was supposed to be.

I am now at a cross roads.  After cursing the hell out of B___ C___y, who has since fallen from grace (although I think most people see through it for the ruse that it is) for alleged sexual misconduct, as to whether I give African Americans their hero back, or whether I let the sonofabitch dig himself out of his own hole.  I state this because his whole effort was investigative, and premised on the notion that something may have actually happened in terms of misconduct.

For the umpteenth time, I had waves of rage which were unexplainable.  They could not be psychologically motivated, as there was nothing in my past to create them.  It therefore had to be either a genetic malfunction of my own neuro-circuitry, or, more likely, some foreign agent was being introduced into my metabolism; i.e. some drug or chemical of some kind.  Ergo my steroid theory, which seems to fit the bill, minus the fact that I have no evidence for it.

Getting back to mister C___y, circa 1982 or 1983 I was beaten by a black kid and two other kids (one a fat Chinese kid, another of Turkish origin) who sat on me in front of my house.  That black kid flat out stated that he was forming a gang.  He should have gone to juvenile hall, but for some reason was prevented from doing so.  I can only assume that DFNC intervened on his behalf as he tried to address the incident.  Again, as per a previous blog entry, said kid, some days or weeks later (I can'r remember how long)  passed me by and and said "Hey George!  You know B___ C___y, don't you!" with a big smile on his face.  I had no idea what he was talking about.  I do now.  And I can only seethe at this.

I don't know what anybody was expecting of me.  I can only assume there was some security factor or agenda involved, but, given the slop-artist psychology that I was put through by way of B___ C___y and his wife Camille, and given the steroids introduced into my diet, not to mention the absolute idiotic concern that I might be some kind of satanic occultist (I'm still baffled by that ... how moronic do you have to be to think that...seriously), and a number of other psychiatric methods to try and keep  me on the straight and narrow (being drugged up), there is no way in hell that I'll ever cooperate with anyone on any level about anything, at any time, anywhere.  

Especially since the scum bag responsible for much of the recent turmoil is over seas, or so I'm guessing.

As per my previous journal entry, if I had been raised normally, by a typical set of parents, the none of this would have been an issue.  But some dumb ass, and given the frame work of international relations at the time, thought it would be a good idea to hide me away, and "raise me in secret".  

What a crock of shit.

I now cannot even write for my favorite game, that's how bad things have gotten.  And if this is an attempt to get me to do what these fucking bastards want ... after being deliberately harassed on the road, after being pumped up full of drugs growing up, after having drugs slipped into my food, even as recently as last march when I moved into my current home, and after being exposed to young second generation Middle Eastern American young males who are into gaming (probably as a method to get me off of gaming), anyone in the United States Navy, anyone in the US Army, anyone in the NSA, Pentagon, or elsewhere, you can all fuck off.

I don't care who my "real father" was.  I really don't give a shit.  I wanted to achieve goals my way, and I was deliberately prevented from doing so by both YOU PEOPLE and the asshole who was giving out orders from nation-X.

This whole thing pushed me to the brink of suicide three times. 

It cost me my beautiful waterfront home.
It cost me the girl I fell in love with.
It cost me my beloved car.
It's cost me a career I wanted writing for Traveller as a side.
And more recently, it's cost me working on video and film locally.

I have to admit, at first I thought it was just Doctor Ross and Doctor White.  Then I thought it was the CHP by way of Dale McKee and Sean Sturgeon, Marc Baluda and Jeff Lorenzen.  I thought someone had gotten hurt or maybe even died on 280 when I did my brake check on Mothers' Day of 2001 on southbound 280 near the Page Mill exit.  Then things only got out of hand from there.  The staff at Barnes and Noble in San Bruno, some of my classmates at SF State ... and every job I've had from 2005 up until the year before last.

I don't care if people think I'm important.  I'm not.  I like who I am, and I think I'm important for the sake of me being me, but I have no special status, and even if a lot of people internationally recognize that I do, I really don't give a fuck.

It does not make up for the torture of this life. 
It does not make up for having my privacy violated by way of psychiatry.
It does not make up for all the past incidents I described.
It does not make up for denying me my aims and goals that I wanted to achieve my way.

I said it once, I said it twice, I said it three times, but no amount of "I'm sorry" and no amount of money will ever make up for my personal violations.

I am George.  I write.  I occasionally shoot video for fun (though goodness knows I wanted to do it professionally).  I like discussing an old scifi RPG I played when I was younger.  This is who I am.

If you think I need to be someone else, then you can all just fuck off.  If you want to shovel a mountain of cash my way, well ... fuck you.  If you want to drape a title over me along with a new name, you can equally fuck off.

And no, I will not be having children, much less getting involved with any female whatsoever.  

Maybe if you fucking bastards had just left me alone things would have worked out.  As it turns out, they didn't.  And they never will, all thanks to you fucking assholes fucking with me life.

Thanks a lot, you piece of shit.  I'll NEVER forget it.



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