Part 10

I discussed Mnemone’s experiences with an Army squaddie myself, who’d left the force for some time, and told him of Mnemone’s fiancé dying the following year of a heart attack, at which he exploded (remember this is a reaction to the category of a defector from the British Army to the Provisional IRA)
“What? There’s no way he died of a heart attack at the age of 26! We murdered every single one of these bastards! Every time a certain unit went out from a certain army barracks we knew it was to get one of those cunts! No way!”
Also, on meeting a top secret weapons technician who had been based in Rosyth from 1984 to 1992, over the Forth Road Bridge just north of Edinburgh, and mentioning this case to see if he recognised it, he responded,
“I think I do know what you’re talkin’ about. So that’s what you’re into! Well, if you want to end up six feet under well before your time pal, just carry on doin’ what you’re doin’.”

During the 1980s, the Russians experimentally shut down all of their radio and TV stations for some pre-determined time, whereupon the most interesting effect was noticed in Moscow, where incidences of violence suddenly went down with surprising obviousness, then went back to “normal” when it was all switched back on. Would love to see the actual report on that.

So they know what all these new TV channels and radio stations are doing to us in Britain.

The “zapping question” really became big to me when one of those five former military signals guys, whom for reasons of time and space one cannot detail their cases, here’s just one detail…….

…………….told me he had had a vibration weapon inserted into his fridge. He’d known he was drawing heat, nefariously hosting parties for the biggest people on the Left in Britain in his country home, surrounded by trees such that it was invisible from the Kentish road running out from the small village of Biddenden.
The Left parties had all ended by 1983, the attack being mentioned here was roundabout mid-1993, and in the summer of that year his only child married and had a child, she’d been a Morning Star reporter, very left-wing family. Daddy went off to celebrate away from country house home, came back to vibration weapon stuck in fridge.
What he was aware of, from his point of view, was that his house had obviously been burgled, but nothing taken during the week-end of his absence. A window was actually left wide open. And ever since that week-end, the fridge had been making strange noises, both he and his pets becoming sick at exactly the same rate.
Finally this old guy decided to call an electrician, who opened up the fridge then stood gawping in astonishment.
“Where did that come from!?!”
“What?”
“That……where the compressor should be.”
“….er…..just take it out and chuck it away for me. Just go ahead and replace the unit.”
The electrician did as he was told, looking shocked. He extracted this weird-looking cuboid excrescence, went off to acquire the necessary electrical parts, dumping the ‘booby box’ on the way on a rubbish dump.
“From that point on both the pets and myself all suddenly began getting better.”
“Do you think they were trying to give you leukaemia artificially or something?”
“My wife does have leukaemia.”
The old man’s very big build possibly related to the vibration weapon taking longer to induce a deleterious effect.
I also requested that Mnemone and that old man talk to each other on the phone, and they both corresponded on having been strangely sensitised to the presence of electrical gadgets, the favourite being when speeding devices are hidden in shrubbery from motorists, they were able to discuss the feeling of their bodies sort of suddenly heating up “like some kind of electronic fire inside your body”, and both considered it more worthwhile than they had at first thought it would be to discuss their experiences at my request. I’d stood there at a payphone putting pound after pound into a payphone in order for that conversation to happen.
A further aspect re my faith in the objective veracity of Mnemone is that a highly placed civil servant whom I am friendly with, upon my enquiring about some guy we both hadn’t heard from for some time, this must have been some time in 1993 again, responded with “Oh Chris has been zaaaaapped. They zapped him from behind. When they catch them on the back of the head it makes them religiose, you know, believing little models of saints are crying and bleeding and things like that. They conditionise it, they don’t say religious, they say religioooose, they’re exhibiting religiosity, not religiousness.” Without mentioning my interest in zapping to him at all beforehand.
Also with the Mnemone case, a Greenham Common woman has corresponded her similar individual victimisation, in terms of being singled out and followed by a car then psychiatric incarceration, (after leaving the Greenham Common demonstration site) but backed out of interacting face to face with Mnemone on the issue, which could have strenghthened all of their cases.

On with the datastream……

There has been a short message on the internet stating that Nikola Tesla had developed vibration weapons by the year of 1923, then “Masons” stole them, telling Tesla they planned to use them to make people sick, secretly, then when they got removed from their rightfully achieved social position, the Masons would try to winkle there own man in.
One of the sensitive bits of information this old man knew was divulged to him by the Queen’s doctor, Doctor Ratner, and this old man, former Army signals man who’d fought during the 2nd World War, had lived in property owned by Dr. Ratner, which Ratner ran Rachmannishly, i.e., sending heavies round, when the extortionate rent was due, to batter it out of them.
But upon just one day a ray of humanity pierced Ratner’s heart, and for some reason he histrionically urged this man, when he was much younger, in 1967, to leave London,
“….because really evil things are going on here. He had my wife knocked out for 24 hours through something he’d injected into her, and while she was out he reeled off to me all the people he knew had been given lethal injections in Britain then a load of rubbish put into the papers.”
“So from that point on you couldn’t trust a single report in the papers as to how anyone had died?”
“No. It was terrible. And now they’ve tried a new-fangled way of taking people out, I take it. On me. Or maybe it’s the fashionable method. Bumping us off a la mode.”
Confidentially to me, one journalist showing a lot of interest in that case (in terms of it’s being a zapping incident) admitted he’d been phoned by “MI5” and ordered to no longer “distribute information on it”, but, at present, wish to say no more than that, a digression the length of a book is what that would need. He did drop the case. Thus the internet just must do its damage.

One might presume those preceding paragraphs are important for those theorists who have theorised that the Queen’s Doctor, William Withey Gull, was the exterminator known as Jack the Ripper, of 1888, which is not to say that that Patricia Cornwell woman is wrong about William Sickert – he was just one of many macho society males involved in this secret knowledge of state executions, I suspect he’s known they’re going to occur, this devilish surgery is something he’s got wind of then he’s gone along and watched with other hellishly gloating males – could simply even be a show of their power, no other reason than that. Minimal comment has been made in recently published newspapers that three women have been stabbed to death in London during the 1990s, the main one coming to immediate mind being Rachel Nickell, murdered during the middle of 1992, each one stabbed 49 times.
Look’s like Jack the Ripper’s still wandering around, Ms. Cornwell. I do like your book about Sickert, though.

Now that might make the reader think differently regarding my reporting of Russell Harty’s death, for instance. The guy who told me “My family knew he didn’t die the way they said he did….” seriously believed the BBC, by the way. I was sitting there with this picture of, firstly, burly looking blokes going round bullying people into telling these “He might be gay” stories, as part of the kindness of the BBC in keeping an image of Russell as having died happily heartily for the sake of not too greatly upsetting the relatives, that he’d been having a great Harry Lime with a bunch of dinky toys when he caught hep.
When he was just simply murdered.
You can see, now, dear reader, the “Masons” have plotted for a very long time to machinate behind the scenes, they are people who will ‘tot’ you, so to speak. The big macho agreement is to kill, kill & kill.

If people want to do something about this, do something about inveiglement into secret societies, every professional social body could put out a warning, every university or college or school, none of these structures are more important than another, and warn everyone not to have anything to do with anything that does not fully explain itself, be careful even if they really do look like they’re going to give you a good time, and watch for them using a harmless-sounding name, like the Stork Club, or something.
No area of society will remain unclawed at. A 13-year-old boy looking forward to a long career as a precocious composer, living in Bristol, was suddenly found hanging dead from the roof of the music room of Wells Cathedral School in Somerset. That’s not any better than Jimmy Lawrence, really, and my picture is of these Masons lurking in lush locations with their secret-societies-within-secret-societies, occasionally deciding to pick someone who is obviously charismatic, who could be a world leader, “who could be another Adolf Hitler, whom we will really have had control of, whom we can get to control the masses while we work behind the scenes.” That’s just one of their reasons.
The budding composer’s name had been Marcus Batchelor, of Bissacar, Doncaster. He’d been about to audition for the London Symphony Orchestra. Early nineties death.