Month: January 2019

The Man Who Was Thursday:

I was reading Bilal’s “Exterminator 17” where mention was made of this book. The character who mentioned it said it was about how chaos occasionally needed to be injected into systems to keep them strong, the same way vaccines, which are made from the germs they are to protect you from, are shot into the human body to keep us fit. That’s not exactly what he said but that’s how I remember interpreting it at any rate. I won’t say that that is my own interpretation of the book now that I have read it, but this explanation was sufficiently quirky enough to arouse my curiosity and motivate me to read it.

Of course I found the name of the book interesting and assumed it was just something invented by the writer as a sort of plot device, or just something mysterious for his character to talk about. Curious title for a book you must admit. I was very pleased when I checked the Amazon website and found that it was the name of an actual book. The book is 111 years old as of this post, so it’s entertained a number of generations by now. I read the reviews and they all raved about it. Personally I love Victorian and Edwardian literature, but all too often, when I read customer reviews of 19th century and much early 20th century works, people will moan about how hard they are to focus on and understand, but this one seemed to be universally complimented and appreciated. Naturally I bought it.

I almost hate myself for saying this, especially since everybody loved the book so much, but, probably because it was given such an enthusiastic build up, I was a bit disappointed with it. Please don’t mistake me, I thought it was very interesting and entertaining and all that, and I’m sure, if God grants me the time, I will read more books by the author, G. K. Chesterton, in the future, but it wasn’t quite the page turner I expected it to be. Oh well, I suppose this is all merely proof of how subjective tastes are. It could also be that I have been in something of a funky mood lately. I don’t know.

I could certainly relate to the story on some level. Like the main guy in the book, I don’t like playing games, but, also like him, if I find myself sucked into someone else’s game I’m perfectly capable of playing along. Sometimes you really don’t have any other choice.

It was a bit of a twist during what was perhaps the most dramatic part of the book where they think they are being shot at and chased by an entire town of anarchists and it turns out they were actually being chased and shot at by normal citizens who thought that they were the anarchists.

As I mentioned before, my interpretation of the books meaning differed quite a bit from that of the source that recommended it to me. It was clearly that good and evil spring from the same source so, although it’s an eternal struggle, everything is just as it should be. Maybe it’s a personal inclination due to my recent history, but I feel books like this, that have the message, “Don’t worry too much about anything, all is right with the universe” and whose purpose it seems to be to encourage people to give up the struggle and not take their ideals quite so seriously, are somewhat dangerous in a way. Maybe it’s just me thinking back to when I was trapped, living in the Devil’s basement and her telling me I was merely being paranoid by worrying that there was a weird conspiracy working against me, or her constantly telling me that “nothing matters”, when all the while she really was plotting my demise, that makes me wary of this kind of thing. It is true that I did manage to escape safely and have since found myself in a much nicer situation, so perhaps it is true that everything is okay with the world (my world at any rate), but, when times are good it’s easy to forget the struggle we had to undergo to get the nice life we are now enjoying.

At any rate, please don’t let my misgivings disuade you from reading this book if you are looking for something fun to read. It’s a fun, light romp through a delightful turn of last century fantasy land. I think it would especially be a favorite of intelligent teens and young adults. Too bad I didn’t read it at that age as I’ve no doubt I’d have especially enjoyed it.


Untitled by Mister-Seen
Happy Holidays to all you perverted voyeurs out there in TV land,
and to all you heartless, sadistic money grubbing bastards who made this twisted situation possible!

New by Mister-Seen
I’m sure, based on their behavior, that most of the people who watch that show soak it up like a blotter- but just like blotters they get it all backwards. For instance, they’re not slandering me because I’ve said bad things about them, I’ve said bad things about them because they’ve been slandering me all my life. Also, they didn’t make this show about me because I’m so weird and I do strange things, I do weird things because they have been making this covert show about me. Something like this where everybody is always sneaking around you and lying to you fucks with your head. You shouldn’t need me to tell you that being spied on and lied to all your life while they are constantly insulting you behind your back to the public starts to drive you a little crazy after a few years, and in my case its been going on for nearly half a God damned century. Being the victim of a bizarre conspiracy like this all your life is bound to unhinge you a bit, so sure, I may be a little crazy but at least I’m just crazy enough to keep from going all out insane.

This whole thing has been a trial since the beginning but it’s been getting much worse lately. I don’t like to socialize much anymore because whenever I talk to people they are never reacting to me, just the impression of me created by that hokey show. When people make a big deal about me, and get all excited to see me and act like they admire me, they are only reacting to a flattering episode of that show. I’m not comfortable with that. Of course, much more often, people are hostile and antagonistic towards me, and again they are acting on an artificial impression of me created by the magic of television. The whole thing is weird and makes me very uncomfortable. I never wanted to be a TV star. Despite what you may think that show is not a public service announcement or a documentary, it’s just entertainment. Entertainment works by stirring up strong emotions in people so they feel like they are experiencing something real. In this way they get to escape their everyday lives. Usually this is harmless because these strong emotions are spent on ficticious characters. Unfortunately, in this instance, they are using a real person, me, to project their imaginary character onto. While their made up person lives in the fantasy land they have created, I have to live out in the real world with the people who watch that damned show, and it seems many of them can’t tell reality from fiction so they dump all the feelings that the show stirs up on me. It’s very irresponsible of the show’s producers and very unpleasant for me. This situation makes nothing but trouble for me. Of course, since everyone behaves so strangly towards me I can’t have a serious discussion with anyone. It would seem the only option available for me would be some kind of therapy, but even that has been ruined by this cornball television series.

I’ll be honest, keeping this journal, and writing in general, has helped me much more that therapy ever has. I mean, think about it, therapy, especally for me, is nothing but a cheap farce. I don’t want to talk about anything too personal since my sessions have always been broadcast to strangers all over the world, many of which are terribly jealous of me and/or wish me the most painful of deaths for one reason or another, AND these therapists and psychiatrists all feel they have to act like my most seriois problem, being that viscious television show that has been maligning me to the public and weighing me down very close to the ground my entire life, doesn’t even exist. It amazes me that these “professionals” have little or no ethics and are actually comfortable lying to me like that. There is also a disturbingly sadistic eement to all this where they keep insiting I need powerful antipsychotics. Even if we pretend that show really is nothing but an elaborate delusion of mine I’m not a danger to myself or the community and I’m perfectly comfortable talking about other things. It kind of frightens me how badly these people want to chemically lobotomise me with unnecessary and inappropriate medication. I wonder how they’ll act when all this is finally over and the truth is officially revealed to me. “Sorry I was so eager to dope you up and risk permenant brain damage with powerful experimental drugs, but you must understand I had to protect that show that was destroying your life at all costs! Some already rich people were using it to get much, much richer at your expense so I felt it was my duty to protect them from your potential interference”. Disgusting. People make me sick sometimes.

Even though I found out over ten years ago I still have a hard time believing that early on some people went around behind my back and made me into a celebrity and that everyone has been lying to me my entire life about what has actually been going on. I did notice a long time ago that I could pretty much get away with anything, this is a fact I’ve never fully taken advantage of because I do have an underlying moral code, despite what their childish show may be telling everyone. Of course, the world being what it is, these people never intended to do me any favors by all this. The very concept behind this show, basically an ongoing candid camera episode no one tells me I’m in, is made to be toxic to me. Add in the fact that these people have been working hard behind the scenes for decades to lead me into a plethora of unhealthy temptations and to set me up in situations calculated both to make me look bad and put me in danger and their harmful intentions should be obvious. They have been exploiting me all my life to generate money for themselves. More recently they have been giving me a few hard final squeezes before tossing my used up carcass into the trash once I’m completely spent. What lovely people. Thinking back on this whole experience I can see that it has been their intention from the very beginning to get rid of me at the end so they can keep my share of the proceeds, and to keep on milking the character they’ve made of me for years to come. That’s what seems to be happening based on things I have heard people say.

This is terrible. Apparently I will be due an incredibly large amount of money in the not too distant (hopefully) future. The amount is, evidently so large that certain already incredibly wealthy people have decided they will do anything it takes to get it for themselves. I don’t know precisely how it works, but apparently if anything happens to me they will get either all of it or most of it. I have a few theories of how that could happen but I won’t bore you with them just now. So yes, my life is worth a great deal though I presently have nothing to protect it with. It seems my being on TV 24/7 is the only thing keeping me alive. Ironically the people making the show are the very ones who want me dead. This explains a lot of things. They want to kill me but they can’t because of their very own show, so they have been using their show to try and make my life as miserable and depressing as possible hoping I’ll kill myself. This is why my life has been so unhappy since I was very young. If you have something rich people want you won’t know any peace till they get it, except, maybe, the peace of the grave. It seems to be the one unpardonable sin in this world is having or being due something that powerful people want for themselves.

I’m pretty sure I’ve mentioned before how I’ve come to the conclusion that nothing I could have done would have prevented my being right where I am now. It was the intention of this show since the beginning to over the years prune my social life down to a bare stump. Little by little they have been isolating me from the world around me hoping to eventually snuff me out altogether. Of course they have been presenting me as a madman and some kind of menace to society on their fucking show for years now just so they can get the public behind them on this. I’ve not been able to hear this show for about six years now but I remember from when I could that they frequently lied about me on that thing, so how bad could I really be if they feel they have to resort to making stuff up to get people to hate me?  When I was able to listen to this thing for myself I remember I was quite taken aback at how overboard they were going with the character assassination. Apparently they were so confident that I’d be out of their way soon that they saw no reason to check themselves. They used to have a live feed on that thing where you could just watch me through cameras hidden in my home so you can see what I actually do all day. Reading and writing mostly. Yes, you can all see how out of control I am (Sarcasm).
8nlws19dus521 by Mister-Seen

The public must be either very stupid or naive to believe all their crap. I think most of them just aren’t sophisticated enough to see how the media routinely misleads them. For instance, from what I’ve heard people say here and there it seems the public actually thinks that if anything happens to me the money I’m supposed to be getting will go to them, or at least be spent on them. This reminds me of that stupid woman who thought that if Obama won the election he would pay her gas and mortgage. Remember that?

Well, I’m sorry to disappoint any of you who may be anticipating a huge windfall if anything happens to me, but I suggest you find out how charities and nonprofits actually work. If Dana and her gang gets their hands on that money they will be keeping almost all of it for themselves. I was just looking on Google trying to find exactly how much charities, nonprofits and not for profits are legally bound to actually spend on their purported causes, but I found all the legalese and gobbledygook made the matter too opaque to be quickly or easily understood. I heard that UNICEF keeps at least 86 cents out of every dollar (Actually I heard its more than that, but I can’t verify that right now), and that when Bono does one of this “Feed Africa” type concerts only 1% of the proceeds ever make it out that way. So, the charity scam is big business. There’s a lot of money to be made from helping yourself to money people give you to help other people. Someone needs to tell Dana and all those other creeps that greed and charity don’t mix. Actually I’m sure they already know it but they’d just rather you didn’t. These charities pay their people, their top people at least, six figure salaries of hundreds of thousands of dollars. One place Dana worked for had ostentatious penthouse offices with a beautiful view of the San Francisco Bay through gigantic windows. I was mesmerized by the view as I watched the ships milling about on the water one time when I went up there to meet her after work. Damn, the rent for the offices alone must have cost a king’s ransom. The employees also get lots of sweet perks and benefits like medical and dental, paid vacations and all the other advantages of working for a well heeled corporation. I was intimately acquainted with a nonprofit in Oakland that I found received six million in donations every year and I honestly have not been able to figure out where all that money goes. I did, however, notice the top guys had salaries in excess of two hundred thousand per year and seemed to have the very best of everything. People would do well to know that every dollar these ‘charity’ people spend on themselves is a dollar not going to help their needy clients. These people are evidently ignorant of these simple mathematics or they just don’t care.

I’ve even known people who started their own charities just because it was such an easy scam, and its all nice and legal. Even then they sometimes get carried away and get so crooked that they attract the attention of law enforcement and get sent away to prison. This just shows you what kind of people this business attracts.

Of course they’ve been trying real hard for years to paint me as the bad guy while claiming that they themselves represent all that is good. If you start believing their nonsense and find yourselves confused about any of this just keep in mind who is trying to kill who to steal their money, that should clear it right up for you.

Anyway I was just trying to show you that by getting caught up in all their hype and actually wishing me ill you are only being the quintessential ‘useful idiot’ because the only people who stand to gain by my untimely demise are the very people using their media to try and kill me. I was already studying the media long before I finally heard for myself this show about me and I can honestly say you are a ‘useful idiot’ if you believe anything they tell you about anything on television, it just so happens that their show about me is a perfect example of their deception.

I know for a fact that these bastards were even agitating to have me sent to prison a few times. Most often its because of some lies they were telling or paid someone else to tell about me, or it was the deliberate misinterpretation of illegally obtained evidence. The few times their accusations were actually formed around a partial particle of truth the “offences” were the direct result of the weird pressures and temptations they applied to me through their media persecution and harassment. They have an entire industry devoted solely to destroying me. That television show and the accompanying website are only a small part of it. They’re certainly the most visible part of it, but there are hundreds of other behind the scenes things going on. For instance my entire social life was created and regulated by them for decades now. I’ve had to live my entire life in the dark shadow of this infernal show and its actually just a cover for a myriad of other little criminal conspiracies they’ve put in motion against me. Intitially this realization frightened the hell out of me, now I see it as an indication of how much money must be at stake.

They have been very open about flagrantly slandering me and thrashing my privacy, yet they are allowed to go not only entirely unpunished, but, as far as I know, their actions and motives have never been seriously questioned. In fact they seem to be encouraged. Of course their motives are selfish. I’m pretty sure that if I gave up and killed myself they’d come into a great deal of money. Its sickening. Because of that fucking show my life has been a series of failures. They have been holding me back and pushing me down since I was a child. They are so dedicated to getting rid of me that in the late eighties they passed the baton to Dana Brownfield, an ex girlfriend who had a festering grudge against me. Although everything I’ve tried to do had been modulated or outright sabotaged it was she who started getting me involved with hard drugs through people she hired to befriend me. I’m sure you’ve all read about the despotic control the studios had over their stars in old Hollywood. My situation is very much like that only in my case it’s a very poisoned relationship considering how vindictive they have always been towards me. There have been no coincidences in my life. I guess in a way they have succeeded in killing me, part of me at least. I eventually had to accept the reality of my situation and I no longer even see any point in trying to accomplish anything outstanding, especially anything that involves help or cooperation from other people. I even stopped making art years ago. That’s the most evil thing these selfish, greedy assholes have done to me and its not just an unforeseen side effect of all this. They wanted to rob me of my reason to live. They are also guilty of major copyright violations. They show all my work on their own show and have posted all my art and writings on their own website just so I won’t get any hits or comments when I post it on my own accounts. Of course I can’t make any money off of my own efforts since they themselves are milking it all for every penny they can get and pocketing the profits themselves. Some people still read my journal here though because I’m constantly updating and editing it. I’m sure they also copy and past this on their website too so a lot more people are reading it than I think are. Aside from all the psychological tricks they have been using to rob me of whatever little joy I used to get out of life I believe they have also been using occult forces against me. I never used to believe in the supernatural, but Dana and those guys practice it and I’ve had a number of weird experiences in my life that I now believe they were behind. I hope that once this is over and I get my money that they will finally leave me alone and let me live out the remainder of my life in peace since they will have no more reason to torment me. I have been feeling  little better lately. I attribute this to my putting up privacy barriers around my bed. Before I did that people all over the world were watching me all night and all day and I’m sure many of them were giving me the evil eye for hours at a time. I’m not sure what that can do to you but I’m sure its not good.
Odgfjsp2v7621 by Mister-Seen
I often wonder if I did things different if I could have avoided my present situation, but I keep coming to the same conclusion being that I think that what I’m experiencing right now was always unavoidable. Besides, the most basic component of this show, what it entirely relies upon, is dishonesty. If anybody told me the truth about what has been going on, well, simply put, there just wouldn’t be any show. Aside from slips that people have made from time to time only a few people have ever came right out and told me the truth. One was Anne H—, a sort of call girl they paid to get involved with me to get me back into drugs because, at that time at least, much of the public was actually starting to sympathize with me. Well, we obviously can’t have that, so they sent a naked whore galloping towards me on a white horse holding a smoking meth pipe up high as trumpets blasted the cavalry charge theme. Anne to the rescue! Since they usually use this show to isolate me from most meaningful forms of human interactions this proved to be a very effective ploy to get me back into drugs again. Anyway, one night as I was walking her back to her car she asked me if I ever felt like my life was just a television show. Of course, despite the fact that I often did I dismissed this idea thinking that there just isn’t any way people could find me interesting enough to actually want to watch on television as entertainment. Of course what I never took into consideration while following this line of reasoning is that television has never relied on the truth to hook viewers. Instead they imply much that isn’t true and exaggerate even the most commonplace events and occurrences into something either unusual or bigger than life. Hell, they encourage people to outright lie about me. Fucking Brownfield herself went on this thing telling some of the most gigantic lies I’ve ever heard in my life, and she was talking about me. None of what she said was at all true. I heard this all myself when I was living in the Jefferson Oaks (now the Savoy) in Oakland. In the end their final product actually has very little to do with me, or even reality itself. I guess if they stuck to the truth people would either change the channel to watch something a little more exciting, like a golfing match, or they might even, heaven forbid, switch off their sets entirely. The only other time someone actually told me the truth I was on one of those recovery forums. Those places were never any help for me because all the other drunks and drug addicts were always openly antagonistic towards me. Highly unusual, I know, but strange things like that always seem to happen to me. This all happened about twelve years ago so, unfortunately, it never occurred to me to take screen caps, assuming I even knew how back then. Anyway, I forget what specifically prompted me to say it, but I said that I had a strange feeling people were watching me all the time and one guy told me I should trust my instincts since in this case I was absolutely correct. That guy then mysteriously got his account deleted shortly after that I recall. Fortunately, thanks to not only my own nearly fifty years worth of unusual observations, but the fact that I was actually able to listen to the stupid thing for myself from 2007-2012 I’ve not had to rely on the public’s honesty to find out what the devil has been going on.

As I was saying, since I am presently right where they’ve always wanted me to be at this point in my life I don’t believe I ever had a real chance to avoid this. Come on, everybody has been fucking lying to me since I was at least nine. Sometimes I wish certain of my relatives were still alive so I could show them how out of hand and ridiculous this whole thing has become. Unfortunately I think even that is a naive fantasy. I think I thought that because they got me mixed up with these people and this mess they might have some influence over them and might be able to get them to cool it a bit and back off, however I think that would have been a forlorn hope. I remember once, not long before my grandfather died, I was complaining to him about this nightmare. He just gave me his generic advice, “Just don’t talk so much, be careful what you say and keep your opinions to yourself”. I then told him that things simply weren’t that simple and how they were tapping my phone and even had microphones hidden in my room to gather material for their damnable show and he had nothing to say to any of that. The thing is I’m sure he already knew all that because I know he himself watched that misleading production. In either a private conversation with someone or a private email, I’m not sure which, I said something critical of how he brought me up. Well, I think it was the very next day he then called me on the phone to either defend or deny whatever I said concerning him. How the devil would he have even known what I had said unless they broadcast it over that show while he was watching it? He didn’t know any of the people I spoke to up here so there is just no other way he could have known. I was careful not to make anything of the fact he just admitted to me that he knew all about the show and how it worked out of respect for his declining health, but needless to say this discovery depressed me considerably. Also, I find it interesting how everyone thinks they have a right to defend their public image and go to great lengths in order to do so, and isn’t it also funny how I seem to be the only person who is denied this right considering I’m not even ever allowed to know whats being said about me on that idiotic show of theirs?

 Okay, I get from the way people treat me that they have been working very hard to make people think I’m crazy, and not just ‘eccentric’, but stark raving mad. Two things about that, do you really think that if I was anywhere near as unpredictable and potentially dangerous as many of you evidently think I am that I’d have been allowed to roam around free as the air itself all my life and stay completely out of prison, jail or indeed any kind of trouble involving the law? Also, to me at least, its a very puzzling paradox indeed that everyone thinks I’m nuts yet they know that my life is a television show and they constantly lie to me about it. Clearly I’m not the one that’s not firing on all cylinders, it’s the society around me that’s clearly out of balance. Think about it: what if you discovered that your entire life was nothing but a cheesy television show made to entertain idiots and everyone you had ever known was either in on it or working directly for the show’s director? That everyone you’ve ever known has been lying to you and that there isn’t a damned thing you can do about it? What kind of an effect would that have on you? Based on how childish most people are these days I’ve no doubt many of you would have been reduced to simpering imbecility due to such a revelation. Me, well, I have some tricks that help me cope with it all and one of them are these writings that help me organize my thoughts concerning all this madness. Actually I get the impression that maybe it really wouldn’t have much effect on most of you since I can tell from my dealings with you that a lot of you aren’t firmly grounded in reality in the first place. Why else would most of you not see the obvious contradiction in thinking that I’M crazy when its the whole world watching a TV show about me and then lying to me about it? Clearly it’s your behavior and that of others like you that is unorthodox.
Iyldvrmrw3321 by Mister-Seen


Remember, I was able to listen to this show myself for five years. I was shocked because it was nothing less than classic brainwashing. All the creepy music and sounds they were using only played whenever I appeared or spoke on it. Frankly I’m amazed this kind of garbage is allowed. How they are allowed to do this kind of crap to me I don’t know. My entire life I was led to believe that I was nothing more than an anonymous eccentric who liked to draw weird pictures only to find that I was being used, used to condition and program the public. It kinda makes me sick to my stomach to be honest. Sometimes when I’m making small talk with some clerk or whatever and I stray away from the common banalities and generalizations typical of small talk I can see their eyes literally glaze over like they are about to go into a trance. There is definitely something very evil going on here and what’s most disturbing about it is it’s going on in plain view.
There is no doubt in my mind that I am exactly where they want me to be in my life right now and everything is going according to their wicked plan. What really gets me is I was never offered a choice in the matter but there was never anything I could have done to prevent this. I’m sure that when my grandfather, or whoever it was, made this deal with them that they weren’t completely honest about their true intentions, these people never are. Never make any kind of agreement with them if you can avoid it, it always ends up going down just like it does in the comic books and old TV shows where someone makes a deal with the devil. There is always some gigantic hitch that always completely negates and eclipses whatever benefit you thought you would get out of the deal when you made it. Between how evil these people are and how dense the public is my chances don’t look too good now to be completely honest. I guess this is all just another case of rich fucks crushing a poor person to squeeze whatever they can get out of them. There doesn’t seem to be anything I can do about it. There never was.

Only recently has this level of persecution even been technologically possible so I am sure I’m the first person in history ever to have suffered extensive harassment of this kind. I have to laugh at people who believe my own behavior in the face of all this has been inappropriate. Apparently they fantasize that if the same thing happened to them they could have pulled it off with much more dignity. The truth is that they have no idea how they would react had they been scrutinized and harassed by the media as their community collectively lied to them about it. They simply have no idea what its like. How could they? Its never happened to any on ever before. Nothing even close has.

People, upon meeting me for the first time, frequently seem genuinely surprised and moved to remark on what a nice guy they thought I was, obviously because their opinion of me had been artfully nudged in the opposing position by Dana’s defamatory show.

This show has always been about isolating me from everyone else hoping to get me to self destruct. This is probably the most sadistic way imaginable to do somebody in. Any other conceivable way of killing someone, shooting, stabbing, pushing them off a cliff, is angelically merciful by comparison.

I recently sent Dana a copy of a story I recently read online. I’d read a few stories like this one before and I find them particularly evil. Since this one reminded me of what she has obviously been trying to do to me, I sent it to her. It was the story of some guy who held a grudge against a woman for something she did to him during elementary school so he’d been gas-lighting her for years in subtle ways no one but her could notice. People kept telling her she was imagining things until she herself started questioning her own sanity. Once he found she had become physically dependent on the anti-anxiety drugs her husband and doctor had her taking the evil protagonist of the story felt he finally had his revenge on her as he had, for all practical intents and purposes, succeeded in having her chemically lobotomized. Another by product of this wretched plan was that, due to the horrible depression she was suffering, the victim stopped painting, which was always her one true passion in her life. Of course only an absolute sociopath could take any joy in doing something as uncompromisingly evil as that to somebody and for such a trivial reason, but this aspect of the story, along with his elaborate scheme that took him years to complete reminded me so much of that evil cunt that I felt obligated to share it with her, hoping she may see her own reflection in it and experience a twinge of repulsion. I don’t imagine she did though since true sociopaths seem to be incapable of feeling anything like empathy for their victims or guilt of any kind.

They have been gradually tightening their surveillance and control of me all my life and its gotten ridiculous lately, especially since I found out about the show eleven years ago. Now I often find I will only have one person I can even casually converse with, not counting professionals who are paid to talk to me. As you can imagine, if you only have one single person in your life they can exert quite a big influence on your thought and behavior. Think back to grade school where you may have had one best friend you spent all your spare time with and all the weird things you got each other into.

It embarrasses me to admit that I too am very susceptible to people’s influence one on one. This tendency is obviously hard wired into us. It explains such phenomenon as ‘bronies’, ‘furries’, sadomasochism and communism.

I remember back in elementary school I was always kind of weirded out by comic books. Something about them always struck me as unwholesome and perverse. I think my opinion was influence by my grandparents who may have still remembered the whole ‘seduction of the innocent’ hubbub from the early fifties. Anyway my best friend somehow got really into them in 7th grade and I got into them through him. So yes, although I am obviously much more independent than the average person, of course people in my life exert no small influence on me. Remember though that these people in my life have always been lying to me and intentionally leading me astray.  I have no doubts whatsoever that every single person I’ve been socializing with since I arrived here back in 2003, with the possible exception of people I knew from work, have been intentionally manipulating me, and many of them have been directly in the employ of Dana Brownfield. This has been going on till this very day. These people work for this show and they influence my opinions on an array of topics, including and especially politics. Its no coincidence that they have been encouraging unpopular opinions, or, at the very least, those demonized by the MSM. Obviously these show people don’t care about my opinions concerning anything and I’ve no doubt many of them believe things that would scare the living shit out of most of you if you even suspected what they were. Obviously they only want me to be known for saying unpopular things because if people don’t like me they won’t care about what a horrible deal I’m getting. In fact they want people to wish ill on me, then they can tune in and enjoy seeing it actually done.

Honestly, I hardly even interact with the world so why should I even care what’s going on in it, I certainly don’t have any power or control over anything anyway. I certainly have much more important personal business to worry about. This whole thing, just like every other damned thing thats ever happened to me in my life, is being staged for their idiotic television show.
Zr9enben0u521 by Mister-Seen
That’s only one of the things they do. These people also encourage me to say derogatory things about other people I’ve known. Since everything I say is transmitted all over the place it’s another evil way to get me to burn any bridges I may have made and further ensure my social isolation. Also they will relentlessly bug me to confess to doing antisocial things. They will keep annoying me with the same repetitious questions until I will actually just agree that I did whatever it is to shut them up. These things only work because often I’ve not another soul to talk to and I want to keep things smooth so I feel I have to do things that often go against my better judgement just to keep everybody happy.

Again, I have no idea what’s really going on, and neither do you. Sure, I know about this television show, but right after I learned for a fact that this show is real I knew that it was just the tip of the iceberg. There is much more going on here, and since I know how deceptive and dishonest these people are I’ve no doubts at all that the public doesn’t know the extent of what is really going on either, and I don’t just mean the occult elements. There are multiple levels of deception involved in this business. I’m sure their is even an additional tier of conspiracy working above the heads of the people making this show affecting all this that they dont even know about.

Of course I have no choice but to survive and see this whole thing through if only to prevent them from leaving an image of me for posterity that is entirely the product of their own demented imagination, but there is a much bigger mystery here that I intend to solve.

They have obviously been trying to drive me to suicide since high school. Despite that being the most sadistic way possible to kill somebody the real reason they are doing it that way is because the very nature of this show keeps me on camera every second of every day so it’s really the only way of doing it they can if they want to avoid prosecution. I just want to say to all concerned that if I ever do meet with a fatal accident of any sort to look very closely into it if you are genuinely interested in seeing justice served. Just know that I am doing everything I can to keep life and limb, body and soul working together in harmony for as long as possible.

People always assumed I had hyperactive disorder as a child, but considering that that didn’t show up until the third or fourth grade I think I was just becoming very nervous about being watched all the time. Anyway, finding out about the show was a real epiphany because I finally knew the origin of all the hate and hostility I’d been getting from people all my life. It solved a lot of mysteries but that was the one that had been bothering me most.
Anonymous by Mister-Seen
In conclusion:

Assuming I survive to see the end of this thing I’m sure things are going to get pretty fucking stupid. You know how all the NPCs love to jump on a bandwagon. Its every boring loser’s opportunity to get some attention joining in as everybody stomps the prostrate pariah. I already heard on the show some stand up comics referring to me in their routines. I’m sure they have gotten many times more nasty since then since the show has been getting increasingly more vicious judging by the ‘vibes’ I’ve been getting from people lately. I’m sure there will be a slew of nasty articles, cartoons, memes and maybe even books. No big deal, if anything this whole experience has given me a much thicker skin. As long as they pay me a reasonable price for my life I can’t complain. That’s what being a celebrity is all about and the only way to ensure EVERYBODY loves you would be to be as bland and uninteresting as possible. Also it’s so typical that all this chaos has been created by an ineffectual nobody and all her jejune, soulless friends working with her in the media. There’s a lot of animosity in losers like that and they really get off on trashing the reps ofanyone with any kind of genuine talent. They and many of the fans of their work are very petty and jealous little people. Anyway, when you get right down to it they are really little more than panderers who made their fortune by hiding CCTV cameras in my bedroom and bathroom since I was a little kid and the public are just a bunch of scumbag voyeurs who lied to me my entire life to hide this fact from me. What a wonderful world full of beautiful people, eh? Reminds me of that old DEVO song:

Mtnhgy0i00521 by Mister-Seen

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“Well, it’s either kiss me or kill me, that’s how I see it.” ― Tom Waits
Dec 17, 2018, 5:21 PM

Ms. Brownfield,
I know this is show business and is inevitable that I will have to take some serious shit because most people aren’t smart enough to separate entertainment from reality, but I’m sure you know that I’ve felt betrayed by you for quite some time now. It is obvious that you are not just focused on making an entertaining show and you have perverted this whole thing and have made it into the most vile slander campaign imaginable and you have been using it to try and completely annihilate me.
You are like most people in that you’re driven by your emotions and you use your intellect only to justify it. That is true most of all in your ongoing campaign to destroy me using the media. You like to claim that it is “moral differences” that have inspired you to behave so unethically, but that argument falls apart once we consider you yourself have set me up with a string of people to nudge me along in the very direction you claim to detest ideologically. Clearly the real motivation for your decades of immoral slander directed against me is something you choose to hide.
In fact, the very first thing you did when you took charge of this project was pay Roger Jesness to glom on to me. Not only did he initiate endless hours of jokes and conversations involving blacks and jews that you taped for the show, the very first thing he did was get me involved with cocaine. Since, thanks to you, he was the only friend in the world I had at the time I went along with it. In retrospect, I can see I’d have been much better off spending my time entirely alone. It’s what I’m doing now and its not that bad but making bad decisions is just part of being young.
You have to have a very deep-seated, seething animosity for someone smoldering away inside of you to intentionally get them involved with hard narcotics. Either that or you are just a genuinely evil individual. I’m starting to come to the conclusion foryou it could be a little of both.
I know this whole thing started in the late 60s or early 70s, but it took a particularly nasty turn once you took it over in the late 80s.
After you had succeeded in getting me living under your roof so you could have full access to me and all my belongings I noticed one thing that I think is a major clue to the origins of your televisual doxing and smearing campaign against me. On weekend mornings when you were home working on your secret project, which I strongly suspect was actually material for your corny show, you used to listen to that lame song, “Bohemian Rhapsody” by Queen over and over again. Any sane person’s brain would start to bleed after having been subjected to that silly rock opera five or six times in a row, but you would literally listen to it over and over again for hours.  I believe this song you listened to constantly while working on that show plays into this whole thing, in your own mind at least.
Remember how you used to say to me, “It doesn’t MATTER Ron!!” constantly? That always puzzled me because it didn’t often fit into the context of whatever we were talking about at the time. It didn’t make any sense to me at all… at least not until I looked at the words to your favorite song in the world.  “Nothing really matters to me”, “Any way the wind blows doesn’t really matter to me”, and “Carry on, carry on as if nothing really matters” You obviously see me as the “victim” in the imaginary scenario described in that stupid song of yours who tries to dismiss his persecution by telling himself that none of it “really matters”.
I’ve wanted to analyze that song and send you my break down of it for a while, however since I doubt I’ll ever actually do that just let me share a few excerpts from it and draw my own connections and make my observations concerning how a lot of them explain your actions. For instance why you, ‘will not let me go’, and why you have dedicated yourself to making me “sometimes wish I’d never been born at all”.
I think the biggest clue was in the line, “So you think you can love me and leave me to die?”. This is very interesting and actually explains a lot. Until I made this observation I always assumed you only got involved with me back in the mid eighties as part of your master plan to lure me up to the Bay Area because you knew you were in line to take charge of “my” show and you knew it had the most influence in its community of origin. That theory made perfect sense to me, but now I feel I may have been wrong to consider your motives entirely mercenary.
Since everything, I do is broadcast to all four corners I’m sure you knew that I had been messing around with an old girlfriend when I was dating you. Of course, I feel bad about doing that now, but hey, that’s just what young twenty-something guys do. Especially since, because of that damned show of yours, by the way, girls avoided me like death throughout high school.
Anyway, boys will be boys. I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings but I certainly don’t deserve to die because of it. You’re obviously drunk on your god-like power over my life and have been trying to use it to blot me from existence. You, Dana Brownfield, are the truly immoral one. We all already know you rob from the poor and that’s what you owe your lifestyle and your fat bank account to, but murder? There’s no excuse for that. You should really be ashamed of yourself.
Plainly your own jealousy and spite explains why most of the women you sent to get involved with me were generally so unattractive. You, of course, understood men enough to know they’ll usually just take whatever is put in front of them if there’s nothing else available.
Anne was the exception. I guess you felt that drastic times call for drastic measures. People were actually starting to like me at that time (2005? 2006?), a lot of them at any rate. I managed to, despite your never ending defamation, to pull myself up by my own boot straps. I got a job, was in a 12 step program and I guess a lot of people were impressed by that. Things were finally looking up for me but you knew I was, like most men, a dog at heart and that it would be very difficult for me to walk away from an attractive woman. Anne was easy to look at, and she was a pro. Like most people, especially when they get high, she talked way too much, and, frankly, I was taken aback by how “professional” she actually was after hearing some of her ‘work history’. Anyway, by the time I made that discovery it was too late, she’d already succeeded in getting me back into drugs and fired from my job, all according to plan, eh?  Then she left on a two month trip back to Minnesota, leaving me all alone and giving you the perfect opportunity to kick me out onto the street.
Its sad that you didn’t just try to find someone else and instead dedicated your entire life to trying to make me suffer. Has any of this actually made you happy? You seem to be just as miserable as ever. Besides, I’m sure that by this time you have learned that I am a ‘tough nut to crack’. Unfortunately, after 30 years of this I can’t imagine you are willing to quit your homicidal crusade but I advise you to do just that. Murder is deed that can not be undone and though I know you are a “proud athiest”, God will make you atone for it should you succeed.
Please try and do what’s right.
“Do the right thing. It will gratify some people and astonish the rest”
– Mark Twain

Of course there’s also that fact that, if you manage it correctly, you stand to come into a LOT of money should anything happen to me.

I’m sure that provides you with very powerful additional incentive.
Face it, there’s just no way anybody can objectively look at what you are doing and see you as a good person.
Remember, the truth will always come out at some point.

By the way, damn that song is fucking stupid as hell!

“(Oh mamma mia, mamma mia) Mamma mia, figaro”?

Are you fucking serious?

Here’s that stupid song you love so much…


…and it’s sang by cats. You love cats because you don’t like people all that much.
Remember back when you were called “Community Access Television” (C.A.T.)?
What did they change it to after I sent the cease and desist notices?
I think it split into two organizations, “SF Commons” and “Bay Area Video Coalition”.
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My files:
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(Encryting the files on my memory card and possibly stealing the images was only one of the new things they have ben doing to me, the show is once again being watched by my neighbors at a volume I can hear in my own home. I’ve now decided the show sounds may not be being intentionally played loud enough for e to hear. I now think that before I put up the curtains people were just watching me on the CCTV, but now that they can’t watch me every minute of every day they are just broadcasting old clips from the show with all that corny music and annoying sound effects. I’m no longer sure that it’s all just another attempt to aggravate me. It doesn’t really bother me anyway as it’s just more proof that the show is immensly popular and will likely some day make me very rich, assuming Dana doesn’t have me killed before my payday)
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“The Brute Man”- (1946): After being fed the wrong answers for a chemestry exam by a friend who was sore at him for trying to beat his time with a girl he was sweet on, the school football champ, while trying to figure it all out for himself in the lab, accidentally creates a chemical explosion which disfigures him terribly. He then embarks and a homicidal spree to exact revenge on all his former friends while committing lots of incidental murders along the way. The police dub him, “The Creeper” and have a very difficult time catching him, or even figuring out his identity initially.
The star of this B-movie, Rondo Hattan, had a rare disease called acromegaly, so he didn’t require any prosthetic make-up for this role since he was already unbelievably ugly. As is usually the case in such instances he is reported to have actually been a very nice guy despite looking like a monster.
When the deformatory symptoms of this disease originally started to manifest themselves his wife left him, but after he became successful in Hollywood and had a respectable degree of fame and fortune she came back and they stayed married for good.

Women, pffft.

“The Unseen” (1945)- A very young governess is hired to work at a nice home for a single father that is situated next door to an abandoned house. Not long before her arrival there was a murder involving that old house where the victim leaves behind an old gold watch that’s part of a mystery that weaves into the plot of this movie. The oldest boy in the governess’s charge turns out to be a very hard case. He’s not only openly hostile towards her, we also find he’s working for some unseen entity so he makes lots of secret phone calls and gets up to a lot of strange things. Who is his mysterious employer?

“Trial and Error” aka “The Dock Brief” (1962)- Peter Sellers plays a very unsuccessful public defender (barrister) called upon to defend a very guilty client. In fantasy he dreams up several lines of defense that they act out between various flashback scenes, however the actual trial doesn’t go in their favor but this actally ends up working in his client’s favor in the long run. Not very much ‘action’, but all in all a very fun, light comedic endeavor.

“Agency” (1980)- The government buys an ad agency and starts planting subliminal messages in regular television advertisements to manipulate elections. Of course anyone who gets in the way or suspects anything has a nasty tendency to end up committing suicide. What’s silly about this film is that they act like the government just started doing this in 1980 and like they haven’t already been doing this sort of thing all the time since the 1950’s since the government is ran by the same people who own all the media, and, despite what you may have heard, subliminals are very effective.

“The Indestructible Man” (1956)- A Los Angeles crime boss is busted for a $600,000 robbery, and, because he double crossed some of his fellow criminals who helped with the job, they turned states evidence on him, resulting not only in his conviction, but execution. After the gas chamber was done with him a scientist managed to get a hold of his corpse, and during the course of conducting experiments on it using electricity he somehow managed to reanimate him. Unfortunate the electricity fried his vocal cords and most of his brain, but somehow it also accelerated his cell growth to an amazing degree. Of course, since its a crumby “B” movie this doesn’t fuck him up in anyway, rather it results in his having superhuman strength and making his body virtually indestructible. Despite having only a charred sliver of grey matter left in his skull he is able to find his way back to L.A. where he starts methodically murdering those who double crossed him. The police eventually find out what has happened, and though it strikes them as unbelievable they rise to the occasion and decide to bring him down. They corner him in the sewer system (symbolism?) and attack him with military grade weaponry like bazookas and flame throwers. He eventually ends up finishing their job for them when he makes his way into the power plant to give himself more juice and ends up literally blowing himself up. I was actually impressed that he figured out how to use all that equipment considering how brain damaged he supposedly was, but obviously his plan was far from perfect since he only ended up killing himself.

“The Dirties” (2013)- Two weird kids who are targeted by bullies and get beat on, threatened and humiliated every day escape their hellish existance through their friendship and mutual hobby. One of these amateur film makers often can’t tell the difference between reality and the films he’s working on. While making a film about massacring the kids who torment them (who they have dubbed “The Dirties”) the idea suddenly morphs into an actual plan to exterminate them for real.

“The Mystery of the 13th Guest” (1943)- A classic, old fashioned mystery with comedic elements, most of which follow what was popular at the time, like Abbot and Costello routines. Anyway, it begins with an old rich guy having a dinner party with twelve of his relatives where he announces that he’s not long for this world and that he’s made out his will, only the contents of that will won’t be revealed for 13 years, when one of the little girls, the old guy’s favorite grand daughter turns 21. She was eight at the time. Incidently, the 13th chair at the table is empty. We can see there’s a lot of numerology involved, especially thirteens. Well, 13 years later what appears to be the little girl from before shows up at the house, as per instructions, to discover more about the legacy, but dies from electicution from answering a hot phone. We find out later, though, after the real girl shows up that the previous one was an impostur that was altered by plastic surgery and the plot only thickens from there.

“Patterns” (1956)- Some small town guy is hired to work at a big firm in New York and the culture shock from moving from Sticksville to the big city pales before all the strange things he notices in his new company. Unbeknownst to him he was hired to replace the vice president who he befriended as soon as he started there. The son of the guy who started the company, who runs it now, thinks the old vice president, who was friends with his father, is past his prime and working by outdated principals. “Stanly Steamers were fine cars in their day, but you can’t win a race with them now”, he says. Eventually the film works itself up into an intense psycho-melodrama that will churn your guts and keep you on the edge of your seat.

“The Girl Who Dared” (1944)- Invitations are sent out for a “Ghost Party” at an island estate only there wasn’t a party and no one knows who sent out the invitations. The people, well to do WASP gentry, decide they may as well have a party anyway since everybody showed up. A pirate ship, according to legend, washed up on the shore of the island 100 years ago, and the ghost of the pirate is supposed to appear every year on that anniversary. Well, while everyone is at the beach looking for the ghost there is a murder and thats where everything starts getting real crazy and we find it all has to do with the theft of$80,000 worth of radium. Another two homicides and an instance of twins switching identities only serves to complicate matters.  As in most films from the 1940’s a black servant provides comic relief.


“Doomsday Flight” (1966)- A lunatic plants a bomb on a passenger jet and taunts police. As you may well imagine the tension on the jet is tangible once ground control warns the crew of the plane that there is a bomb on board set to go off once they start descending to land.

“The Lady and the Monster” (1944)- A “mad scientist” experimenting with keeping brains alive after death. He has limited success working with monkeys, then he gets a hold of the body of a millionaire who dies in a plane crash and decides to see what he could do with that. The experiment proves to be entirely too successful when the brain possesses one of the scientists to do its bidding, involving him, along with a secret bank account he had, with a plot to free a convicted murderer from prison who just happens to be the millionaire’s son.

“The Hidden Hand” (1942)- A homicidal patient escapes from a lunatic asylum and returns to his family home, a huge mansion with servants. The black servant (or “houseboy”, as the mistress of the estate calls him) from “The Girl Who Dared” provides us with a humorous performance as a distraction from the drama, which is itself not entirely serious. Later we discover that the Mistress of the house and the escaped mental patient, which is her brother, are in cahoots in a plot to thin out the family. A charming period piece.

“The Unseen” (1945)- A very young governess is hired to work at a nice home for a single father that is situated next door to an abandoned house. Not long before her arrival there was a murder involving that old house where the victim leaves behind an old gold watch that’s part of a mystery that weaves into the plot of this movie. The oldest boy in the governess’s charge turns out to be a very hard case. He’s not only openly hostile towards her, we also find he’s workingfor some unseen entity so he makes lots of secret phone calls and gets up to a lot of strange things. Who is his mysterious employer?

“The Greenwich Village Story” (1961): Really nothing but pro-abortion propaganda. A struggling writer and dancer live a pretty bare bones life surviving in Greenwich Village while honing their respective crafts. The woman gets knocked up but doesn’t tell him, he doesn’t want to get married right away, then one day he gets drunk after getting harshly refused by yet ANOTHER publisher, has an agument with his girlfriend, runs off with another woman so his girlfriend, in an act of sheer desperation, gets a back alley abortion and dies. The end.

Very effective propaganda to get people to willingly give up their unborn children assembly line style to be sacraficed to Moloch.

“The Creeper”- (1948): Creeper is the name of the black cat belonging to some experimental scientists who are working on “illuminating certain organs in the body” and one of the female lab assistants, Nora, has a marked aversion to cats, they terrify her. To explain these strange experiments, they think glow in the dark organs would help surgeons. Of course they experimented on cats. When they developed their serum they were in the tropics and the natives believed that when people died they turned into cats. It was here the assistant developed her phobia for cats.

When they returned to the states to finish their experiments they found the entire shipment of their serum destroyed when it arrived, so they sent for all their cats to be sent to them hoping to create more of the serum. Nora starts dreaming she’s pursued by a huge cat claw and cats seem strangely attracted to her, which always causes her to scream and faint or flee the room in a panic. Only, it seems Nora’s dream of the giant cat claw wasn’t entirely in her own mind as the cat claw goes on a killing spree.

It turns out that one of the scientists, Nora’s father, experimented on a native woman causing her death and he was the first victim of the giant cat claw. Could this have something to do with the series of bizarre homicides?

Curtailed Opportunities:

According to Colin Wilson Crowley was once talking to a journalist who asked him to show him some magic.They were outside and it so happened a businessman or stock broker type was just walking by. Crowley then got behind him and imitated his walk perfectly, then, at some point he intentionally stumbled and fell and the broker, who was a good distance ahead of him stumbled and fell in the identical manner.
Before I even heard this story I long suspected that seeing the subject of one’s spells was essential to getting the optimal results, and this story seems to verify that I was absolutely correct. Although my desire for good old fashioned privacy also had a lot to do with it, protecting myself from supernatural interference played no small part in my setting up my sheet tent over my bed recently. I of course can’t be entirely sure, but for now I am reasonably certain that, at least while I’m reading and writing in bed, that I am out of range of any cameras that may be hidden in my home.
Another important element in effective cursing this story seems to illustrate is that the subject’s ignorance that he has been targeted by occult forces would also seem to be a crucial element in successfully hexing them. This is obviously why the powers that be ridicule belief in magick publicly while privately they themselves are avid practitioners of it.

Of course the best protection against psychic attack is a positive mental attitude, self confidence and an absence of petty self doubts.

I know that idiotic show was painting me as some kind of out of control maniac at least as far back as high school. That’s why religious people were always honinging on me trying to convert me. I have a funny story about a troup of Christian mimes that glommed onto me at Santa Monica beach on the boardwalk. Anyway, no wonder my social life sucked and the only people who would ever even ralk to me were weirdos and freaks. These people have been trying to completely destroy me for almost 40 years now, the full fifty if you count how they’ve been telling everyone I’m weird and strange since I was in kindergarten.

I’ve been going through the old journals I rescued recently from storage and a few very important ones are missing. Hopefully I will find them later mixed in with my other stuff. It infuriates me how that fucking bitch Brownfield not only thinks she owns me but all my stuff so evidently she feels perfectly justified helping herself to anything I have that catches her eye. That bitch can’t die soon enough.

I smoked some weed and took mushrooms a few time just like most kids of the time, but those assholes made me out to be some kind of out of control drug addict, so, of course decent people would have nothing to do with me, and that dramatically limited my options in life and didn’t leave me many promising job opportunities. These assholes are unbelievably arrogant in how they revel in playing god over me. What right do they have to publicly judge me like that at all? No. Fuck these people.

Okay, I get that they have to make things over dramatic to hold the public’s interest, but they really should have created a character for that instead of projecting their psychotic filth onto an innocent person trying to make his way in the world. Obviously they much prefer slandering someone than trying to exersize their imagination. It just comes more naturally to them to bad mouth someone than try to be at all creative. This is the type of people they are.

The Horror Of Nothingness:

The following is a story I found in an old notebook from 2008 which was very soon after I began hearing that TV show for myself. I remember it was kind of a disorienting experience finally hearing it for myself. It was so negative and demeaning that I felt I was in one of those old Twilight Zone episodes. To be honest I’m not entirely sure I wrote it, though it does have some autobiographical elements woven into it. I suppose that if I did copy it from some other source that may be what inspired me to do so.  
Though it reminds me somewhat of the work of Lovecraft , Burroughs and P. K. Dick it mentions computers and the internet so it’s probably too recent a work to be attributed to any of those authors, but since I’d recently read all the works of those writers it makes sense they would have had some influenced me.
I may have scribbled it off in a drug induced delirium and that could be why I have no recollection of writing it. This has happened before and I am frequently surprised at the results, so it probably is my work- but I don’t want to try to take credit for someone else’s creation if it isn’t. 
Anyway, even if it isn’t this piece really speaks to me so I may as well post it here and I apologise if I am not the author. If it does belong to someone else please tell me in the comments.
The Horror Of Nothingness:

I was so tired- my thoughts were all blurred together. I could not readily recall the last time I had slept for more than a few minutes, and then only from pure exhaustion. The past four months were a smear of desperate struggles with and flight from the nameless menace that threatened my survival, my very existence, my entire life and everything I had ever known, or dreamt, or assumed would ever be. I was dizzy with fatigue- too numbed by never-ending alertness and endeavor to even be aware of the overpowering fear that gripped me in its shadow and pushed me to action wherever I thought an opportunity for safety and salvation may be found. So far I had uncovered no hint or avenue in this direction, and was forced to madly scramble in a mad knot of mazes in trying to avoid my increasingly inevitable collision with the unthinkable fate of all those I had at one time shared the world with.
My mind buzzed with numb confusion. I knew not for sure whether I was dreaming or awake- the same overwhelming fear of doom ruled both realms in its alien claws. It made no difference whether I was in the open or in hiding- I would be found soon and when I was everything would end forever.
From all I saw I was the last living person on Earth. I would occasionally hear small rustlings in the bushes, or in the heaps of garbage that lined the streets. Sometimes I thought I heard the tiny squeaks of little creatures. Sometimes in the dead of night I would hear what sounded like the flapping of wings above the empty houses, but apparently, if there was anything left alive, it too was avoiding this same giant, invisible danger which hunted me. This thought almost made me smile, thinking how much safer they were than I, if only because they were smaller, so much smaller than I, and much more simple. There was hope that something alive would outlast me when I met my horrible, untimely end. The meek shall indeed inherit the Earth.
I had no idea what had happened. Was it an invasion? Was it a plague? Was it even biological at all? Indeed, it seemed so otherworldly that “supernatural” didn’t even come close to defining it.
How it began, what had happened, will be a very difficult story to tell- all the more so because there is no one to tell it to. All I can say about the present is that it seems the entire world is dead, and the dead, that were once the world, are hunting me. I wonder, “Why haven’t you taken me yet? What else can be preoccupying them?”
I’m weak, tired, hungry, thirsty, I’m barely even alive myself. Only my stubborn will to preserve myself and survive keeps me animated at all. I have hardly the strength to defend myself- I can’t hide myself even. I can feel the eyes of what once were the billions of people who I once shared the Earth with watching me everywhere I go, anything I do, at any time of night or day.
Is this all the result of an ultra-mundane act of otherworldly terrorism- some kind of high voltage, psychic experiment gone wrong? Divine retribution or Satanic intervention? It’s all so confusing- there is no logic, no reasoning, no sense- only midnight madness spreading its enormous, bat like wings engulfing the empty orb of dust and mud that was once the world.
I recall strange things began happening about two and a half years ago. People noticed some strange phenomenon sporadically interfering with radio and television transmissions. It may have been happening long before then, but that’s about the time when, though rare, they began happening just often enough to attract communal notice and spark occasional observation. The brief but startling sounds, the short, but fascinatingly hypnotic designs would unexpectedly interrupt radio and television broadcasts a few times a week, at most- and all added up they wouldn’t last from three to four minutes. What was especially unsettling about these glitches was that, although they occurred on all channels and all frequencies, no two people heard or saw them at the same time, and, although they were very brief, they seemed to leave an entirely different impression on each individual who noticed them whenever they did experience them. Some people felt profoundly horrified by the visual or auditory stimuli, some felt it as a religious or spiritual epiphany, but generally everyone was in agreement that they were definitely unique, and very unlike anything they’d ever felt, or dreamt before.
It was shortly after this time when these anomalies had been universally experienced that everyone began discussing them, although no two people shared identical impressions concerning them. It was weird, as if the whole thing was like some kind of snowballing urban myth, because, although these incidents were originally experienced through the mediums of radio and television, although not limited to commercial radio and television transmissions- the media ignored these profound, yet random blips of transmission. In fact- since I never watched television or listened to radio- it was only from others that I heard of these odd occurrences, yet, since no two accounts were similar, it seemed to me like a unique outbreak of some kind of mass hysteria. Not that anyone was hysterical, quite the opposite- people were more like silently awed- they spoke of these incidents almost in hushed whispers, as if frightened of being overheard.
These “freaks of frequency” gradually increased- more in occurrence than duration- but they began to branch out slowly- they began to be noticed on computer and movie screens, even carried in the rays of electric lights.
It wasn’t long before everyone began to feel spooked- haunted- watched- as if by an ancient, alien presence. What made it yet even more eerie and disturbing was the media’s silence concerning these brief glimpses into timeless insanity that had nearly everyone wound up so tight and sitting tensely on the edge of either promiscuous panic or religious frenzy.
Maybe it was because those who ran the information media were at a total loss as to what to even say about it. No one knew what it was or what it meant- and, most importantly, it was totally different for everyone who experienced it, or it could have been that the media itself was behind it- yet if it were, no one could explain what benefit it derived from it. Most people began avoiding television, stopped listening to the radio, partially because these mediums never referred to the occurrences themselves- or even offered the vaguest hint of speculation as to their meaning or origins.
These brief transmitted invasions had left a hard impression on the population. Time people had previously spent watching TV or listening to the radio, surfing the web, going to movies, doing, in fact anything that wasn’t essential to life itself, was spent instead in staring silence. People hardly ever spoke to each other anymore, not socially at least- it was as if everyone was inwardly fascinated with their own personal visions of either heaven or hell.
Gradually commerce started to slow to a crawl as people seemed to lose interesting both shopping and going to work. Lawns were dying, weeds grew lush, gardens became jungles, roads went unrepaired, which didn’t matter much, since cars mostly sat and rusted in driveways.
Civilization was declining- not because anyone was doing anything to counter or harm it- or in any way trying to influence it for good or ill- or exploit it for their own ends- it waned entirely because nobody seemed to care about anything any more. People began starving to death in their own homes, even if their shelves were filled with canned food. Apathy wasn’t even the word- it was worse than people simply not caring whether hey lived or died- it was as though many of them were just patiently waiting for it. Although this was true for most people, there was no small number of people who refused to leave wherever they called home because they were simply too terrified to even move.
I say everyone starved to death because it was plain to see everyone slowly wasting away to skin and bones- so even though starvation was common, I can’t honestly say it killed anybody because no bodies were ever found.
I know of all this I was among a small number of people who seemed to be immune to the prevailing ennui that was killing hundreds of thousands of people every day. This is not to say any of us were entirely unaffected- every body had, in various degrees and in different ways, a creepy feeling of doom or apocalyptic foreboding. I can’t say this had much to do with our direct exposure to media as this sense of forlorn hopelessness wasn’t restricted to people alone- or even mammals- but seeped into the life force of every living thing as time wore on. Eventually it was so bad that it was not an uncommon sight to see spiders simply hanging in the centers of their own webs with as many as a dozen or so unswathed flies tangled up around them, stuck in their traps, feebly buzzing from time to time as hardly aware they were snared as their captors were.
These sights became scarcer as spiders stopped spinning webs altogether, and flying insects gave up flying- or even moving. Quickly- due to their short lifespans, insects and other small creatures soon seemed to vanish altogether. Nothing died. Not ever. Nothing, no one left a body behind. This fact I thought was an important key to this whole affair, and, although it seemed I was among the very few who seemed entirely unaffected by the general surrender of life, I can’t say I ever managed to actually see anyone or anything disappear, except a very few times, and those were at night. It appeared as if any person or animal you were observing would just slowly fade into the darkness. Not like they would gradually grow transparent- it was as if they would simply merge with the shadows- into the night, and cease to exist.
The few of us who seemed to remain unaffected- instead of banding together to form some kind of community- rather seemed to avoid one another- as solitary animals do once they’ve established territory. Except for the brief, hurried “matings” that occurred on the increasingly rare occasions that opportunities presented themselves, we all of us seemed to instinctively avoid one another.
There was never any aggression displayed to establish territory- and I don’t believe their would have been even if their hadn’t been hundreds of thousands of miles of it available for any of the small number of people left to inhabit it, the people who still remained active seem very leery of each other. I know that I personally stopped perceiving other people as kindred spirits, but more as strange animals I had nothing in common with aside from the daily urge to eat. The only violence I experienced was after those brief matings I spoke of, when after I, or whatever hypothetical male you might imagine, ejaculated, the female would immediately afterwords force the male off of her and flee back into the streets, or forest, or wherever the mating occurred. I don’t believe any offspring were ever sired by such unions, and why this desire for this sort of intimacy- even this very brief intimacy- still continued- even among the apparently barren women, I cannot imagine. There was not a hint of romance or even mutual attraction involve at all- it was simply a brief surrender to an urgent carnal impulse- purely animal, like scratching an itch or swallowing food.
Of course I haven’t seen anyone- especially a woman for six or seven months at least now. It may even be closer to a year. I lost track of time altogether after the last of the clock’s batteries died.
I can understand some extraterrestrial entity feeding off our life force. Maybe the disturbances in radio transmissions were caused by some kind of spacecraft or organism that approached our world. What I can not understand is what happens to the flesh after it has been drained of life- is it somehow absorbed, or sucked up like the dregs at the bottom of a cup of coffee or a bowl of soup? And how have some of us, apparently fewer as time goes on, managed to maintain the instinct for survival?
I can speak only for myself- but since receiving a severe blow to the head twenty years ago when falling from a ladder painting the back of my house, and waking from a month-long coma afterwords- I haven’t had a cold or flu since- so I suspect their must be a biological agent involved here based on my unusually strong immune system and my resistance to this seemingly spiritual plague.