March 15, 2014
It's been almost two years since the O.S.I.R. went after my friends, and ruined the last of my old life. That was after I infuriated Mr. Peterson. I could not fully imagine then that the attacks were standard operating procedure. I can now. Different state, different agent in charge, same series of moves. They went after everyone connected to the mind reading prank caller, and his mother that I slipped out of their surveillance. They go to friends and family, at their places of work if they can, and they smear, and they try to spread the dirt. There is nothing that the people you care about can do that will help; short of knowing where you are hiding and telling. That's why like with me I told the prankster and his mother to tell no one anything, and if they could, to forgive the people who turn on them. It's just too vicious and highly planned on the O.S.I.R.'s part to blame anyone else.
While I'm outlining the dirty underhanded tactics of our least favorite murderous government agents, there is something I must add. For once it's a non-lethal solution, but it's also applied to prime people only. I also have to cover myself and say that I do not know if extraterrestrials or spacecraft in our skies are real or not. I guess that saying that out of hundreds of stories one or two stories could be real sounds likely. However, the O.S.I.R. does use UFO stories and tales of abductions and other weirdness to implicate people they want to silence in questionable beliefs and conspiracy theories. You speak up against the O.S.I.R. or otherwise get on their radar, then posts start appearing online that sound like they came from you, and they talk about UFOs and totally unbelievable stories, full of inaccuracies and conflicting details. They show up different places where your friends can see them, as well as reporters who hop on the story, usually to discredit you.
You might wonder why your friends would believe them. Let's say it's on Socialmabob. Friends will see these posts just all of a sudden, and most of them will be hours or days old. If anyone ask why this is they're told that the algorithm does it. The algorithm is a program that brings people what of yours they want to read. It decides Joe wants cat pictures, Jane wants items about how your day went, and Sally wants weird stories. Something went wrong in the algorithm, people will say, and Joe and Jane see the stories that only Sally used to see. Get it? Damned nefarious. Just about everywhere you get a lot of information from different people an algorithm is used to sort it out for you.
It gets worse when they plant people in your stream who, live and in chat, will back up the fake stories and how you told them directly, even in person perhaps. Fake friends of your friends will then get your real friends to question why you're lying about posting the strange tales. Others will say that they believe the stories. Others yet will urge your friends to get you help. Your denials only make you looked ashamed, crazy, or both.
It's worse if you have children. They fan the flames or get used by the O.S.I.R. to fan the flames. Then Child Protective Services starts investigation just how safe your children are to be with you. You can see how they can ruin you, even if they don't want you dead.
On Monday this past week we liberated the mother of the prank caller I told you about last time I posted. We got her right out from under the noses of the O.S.I.R. agents watching her day and night. They tailed her all around. We picked a time and made our move. She had no idea when we were coming, just that we were, and what we wanted. We had a password phrase and everything.
I met her at the supermarket. I was wearing a disguise so that Jack could focus on other things. I asked her if she knew what day of the month it was. She said the date and that I should use the Klein app. I thanked her and bit my thumb as she turned to walk away. A bit later she went to the public restroom in the back of the supermarket. She stayed in the restroom and an illusion of her went back out, and with my help resumed shopping.
Let me tell you, it is no small feat to push a cart around mentally putting items in it and steering clear of other people so they don't break the illusion. The hardest part though was keeping real money inside the shape of the fake purse, getting it out and taking back the change.
While Jack and I were doing that, Jenny and the real mother slipped out of the back of the supermarket.Then it was our turn to leave. The illusory mother went out, groceries in hand, and hailed a cab--she arrived by public bus. I feel a little bit bad about stiffing the cabbie, but he did get the groceries when Jack's illusion winked out of existence somewhere far down the road. Then there's the matter that the cabbie would have to keep quiet about a disappearing fare for fear of sounding crazy. Or maybe he claimed she ran away at a stoplight. As much as we should have followed up directly with the man we let it go to see what would happen. Melvin watched for reports about it, including listening in on radio calls to and from the cab dispatch office. Nothing has come of it yet.