Can One Like Me Ever Get Equal Rights In The West

I have seen and experienced enough unique attacks as a singular individual to know by now why I became a target. My case is about imperialism, and in this context, I know I cannot be given the same rights as the next man in any western society. There just isn’t room enough within the system for people like me to coexist alongside others who fit the space reserved for them. I am left standing alone, the odd one out, my only option to fight for my rights, but then this would obviously be a losing battle being who I am, standing up against the wishes of an entire culture. I know that the only place on the planet where I can be attacked the way I am being attacked now, whereby I have only just relocated and my new neighbors are already telling me “it is because of you” that the area is getting inundated with strange people, is the west. As was the case in the Netherlands, it did not take long before the attacks spiraled off into a crescendo whereby there no longer was a need to be covert.

By the time the torment I was undergoing in the Netherlands became too overt and intolerable, I had already learnt all I needed to about my predicament, especially the inevitability of the fate, and had long since decided to leave the west for a clime where I realized that, though the chance of the attacks continuing was still present, it was impossible to get attacked as blatantly as was the case there, due to a completely different political climate, and ethnic or cultural realities.

My difficulty during the period I have been under attack, which happens to be the same for most targets, is that, as the recorded attacks reveal, especially what the increased attacks in the morning say about what my tormentors are really trying to do, every attempt to get away is thwarted, and as I speak and write about these experiences, as I provide the evidence that proves what is happening within my living space that provides a clue as to what is happening in the larger picture, politicians, acting as illiterate as it gets, will not fail to go on the air today or tomorrow, attempting to prove through some ruthless act on some hapless immigrants from Zimbabwe, or attacking some unemployed foreigners for being scroungers or free loaders taking advantage of free housing and giving nothing back, that the cases raised by some prolific writers are rubbish.

Never fails to provoke that reaction.

The stalking and attacks I had experienced in the Netherlands are no different from those in England, and even before I left the country I already knew moving around Europe would not stop attacks. I came to England accidentally, unintentionally, due to a choice I made regarding the source for my flight ticket back. I could barely afford the full fare and, because I was desperate to leave, afraid my spending habits would simply cause more delay, I accepted an offer of a reduced fare by a Pastor at a church in the Bijlmer area in Amsterdam that I frequented, who happens to be the uncle of the late South African reggae star Lucky Dube. The pastor helped illegal immigrants repatriate through a government grant. Because I was not illegal - I have Dutch nationality - he had to prevent the border authorities from discovering this fact. Also, because I was going to go to the airport as an illegal immigrant, I was subject to the same procedures that they were, one of which is that my passport was going to be withheld and handed to me at the airport, by Dube himself.

I was to leave via London Heathrow, and, without my passport, could still cross the channel using my ID card. I would get abode with a Pastor of the same church in London, and then board the plane for Africa when the day came. Pastor Dube requested that I pay a fee of €250 upfront, and though I realized this was completely unnecessary because the church was losing nothing at all in the transaction, I do not believe in something for nothing. What he was asking was a third of what I could have paid had I booked the flight myself. I wasn't going to argue with as fair a deal as this.

No truth came of the plans the pastor made after I arrived in England and, rejected by the contact he had provided, I was left to fend for myself. Bed and breakfast accommodation emptied my pockets within a month and a half, and Dube became increasingly irrational when we communicated. Eventually, he became unreachable on both his cell phone and email. Angry with Dube, and afraid to return to a country that had already imprisoned me under false charges, aware my anger at Dube would make the authorities find a reason to arrest me again, to protect what I was now convinced was nothing more than their operative from harm, I was left with no choice but to find employment, if by this I could house myself and pay for the trip back home, before I lost all rights in England too.

I was no better than a lot of political prisoners who have been removed of all documents to prevent flight, but even though I did not have my passport, I could still use my ID card to travel or legitimize myself within Europe. Soon after spending a few days sleeping rough, I found a job, got a place to sleep at a local church, and a few weeks after that had saved enough to pay for a room. As soon as I started making progress, the attacks began to escalate. The cat and mouse games between me and my tormentors, that I had grown accustomed to in Holland, started with a vengeance, the aim and result of which was to slow me down as much as was possible. I was once again back to square one, caught between overspending to protect myself from harm and keep my employment, while at the same time hoping to save enough to leave.

I have thus far spent close to four years in this country, tied down, in a virtual prison. All came to a head this winter when I became more evasive than usual with my writing, after learning my lessons well. Unlike my previous project written on a laptop that could be read within the next rooms, seen in the fact the licensed criminal attacking me next door always scrambled noisily about as soon as I opened the lid, only some parts of the recent book had been read before it was released to the public, a period in which the material was illegitimately read through the back door by some persons who have thus far not bothered to be secretive about this. It is obvious they are now unable to risk the prospect I could write a third book whose contents could be much more damaging. In fact I would be a fool to think that this is not the case after all I have experienced. This is the reason the authorities decided to evict me from the place where I was protected, into the streets where they could get rid of me much more quickly, and blame natural causes. The same thing that had been done to me twice before in Holland whereby I was arrested just after I had sent a book to a publisher, and again when I started making good money and making my presence known online was repeated in England.

Pay Your Rent, Don't Risk Your Home

Images showing the offending poster. Click on the image to enlarge…

This is the poster I saw at a bus stop in the area I am currently staying. I do not know how long it has been here, but I only noticed it today, the 12th of January 2008.

I moved into this area after I got evicted from my flat on the 27th of December, and am almost always using this particular bus stop to get places after I awake. I am almost sure this message has not been here more than a few days.

I returned to the location in the evening when it occurred to me the notice may not be there the next day, so that I may take snaps of it before it was dark, when the sign is not lit up and the finer text is glaring and difficult to read on the photo, when the darkness makes the location vague. Well, as is evident from the photos, I arrived when it had already got dark, but then the pictures I took are not bad at all.

Throughout the day after seeing this poster, I had been extra aware of bus stop posters in the Southwark area, looking to see whether the same message was displayed elsewhere. I found non, a fact that only increased my paranoia. I am still wondering why, if the message is that important, it was necessary to deploy this poster at this particular bus stop alone? It looks innocuous enough when seen by a casual observer, and the actual reason it has been posted may be innocent, but then, being in my position, with my sensitization, I cannot help but wonder and speculate.

Evictions during the festive season may be a recurring problem in London. It is logical that a lot of people get their priorities mixed up due to the pressures involved, and end up losing their homes. The council, who posted this notice, are on top of these statistics, and may even have more people who have lost their homes to contend with than is usual, hence the need to post this message every time around.

Still, for someone accustomed to the police driving by with sirens blaring every single time I started filming the bury street 161 neighborhood where I lived before, or lost it and became threatening, someone who did not have to pay rent but got evicted anyway; whose surveillance equipment actually caught the landlord breaking into the property through the front window, in full view of many more people, including the landlord of the property upstairs; recorded the moment I returned to find the landlord hanging in the window and, without having bothered to go through the proper procedures to remove a tenant, started looking around for faults and finding non that could not be removed with soap and water, or a screwdriver, screamed out loud he was evicting me because I had not bothered to answer his phone calls, and had not opened the door when he had come around before; a landlord who had had more than two and a half years time to evict me, this poster may just get me reaching for conspiracy theories. For someone who has seen and knows how messages are left for only those sensitized to recognize, or create the wrong impression in those not familiar with the details of a given case, this message does not fail to raise my eyebrows.

The fact of the matter is I was evicted from that property not as the landlord insisted, after the fact, that I was destroying the place, but primarily because, despite the attacks, I managed to write another book. Attacks had already evidently reached a crescendo when it became clear I was busy writing. The whole act was not and did not in the least appear to be the landlord’s decision. He acted as though he had been commanded to evict me on the spot, a reality that was also picked up by a passer by who wondered what was going on. The fact of the matter is I was protected within the property, and had proven this by writing voluminously. I had increased protection in those last days to the point it was impossible to attack me without using methods that left clear signs of attack, as can be seen in the photos below.









Images showing the progressive blasting of larger and larger holes in the defenses that happened on the 24th December 2007, that are automatically timed and dated. The silver are the layers of foil, and the black is the thick layer of insulation that could not have been breached any other way than by electromagnetic radiation. The cause of the shortcircuit that caused the holes are the microwave beams. Click on the image to enlarge…

Things were only going to get better for me as long as this is the way it stayed. I had the chance to prove the method of protection put down in my book “Coherent Madness” works.

The perps increased the level of attack, first only starting to blow holes in the defense, causing loud sparks to fly as soon as I fell asleep, then giving up on this approach altogether when they realized I was not sleeping as deeply as they wanted, instead blasting holes in the defenses when I was fully awake and wandering around. I got rare footage of the sparks and holes the interaction of the beams with the conducting layers made, as they followed me from corner to corner within the enclosure, that have yet to be converted to digital format. In these recordings, where I also use a thermometer that recorded very high temperatures, as high as 32 degrees on a day when outside temperatures were around 7 and no heaters were turned on in the room itself, the heat surges coming at especially those moments when I was either about to go out or was doing something positive for myself, and also with RF and ELF detection equipment, it is very clear to see the sparks go off in tandem with my movements, and also possible to determine the actual location of the weapons. It is also possible to prove I was in fact surrounded.


Thermometer in the enclosure before upgrading the shield showing around 27 degrees centigrade. The normal reading when I had not been in the room for a long time, or was sleeping under the secondary shield around my bed was 18, which can be rounded off to about 17 degrees centigrade to make up for errors in the reading based on calculations I made after checking forecast temperatures. The temperature in the enclosure would rise suddenly as soon as I engaged in positive activities, sometimes, especially before I went out in the morning, going up to 32 degrees centigrade, with only the television and lamp in the room as the source of heating.

There were three weapons trained on me, some of which were evidently sensor operated. When I moved towards especially the wall on the shop next door, the machine would fire up and sparks would start going off on that side. A human being would not have been able to cope as well with my movements in the room, to manage to switch the DEW at exact moments. Even more perps taking shifts at the machine would not have coped. This property, like the property I had lived in before owned by the same landlord, already had perps around it. I call it the Auschwitz for there is no way this could have been mere coincidence, and the behaviors of people around me from the very beginning bore testimony to this truth. I do believe that, using the very same landlord, this location has been used to kill other people before, and will be used again in future, if it is not already being used for the purpose as I write this.

The other reason the landlord was ordered to evict me is because the location was tapped and contaminated. The evidence could not be removed if I remained in the property. My electricity was tapped by the perp who lived directly above my flat. The usage was erratic. It didn’t depend on what appliances I used. The drainage patterns coincided with increased heat surges that indicated raised attacks. The water pipes appeared to run through some reservoir in a household near me. I would get sick when I drank it. An awful odor emanated from the water when I let the taps run.

Outdoors, without any protection, I can be done away with much more easily, and events around me since then have testified to this reality. I wear protection all the time, and though it is hardly as good as the faraday cage, it is helping a lot. Because protecting my whole body would require a suite that would make me look like a medieval knight, which would very quickly bring in the mental health act boys, the areas I cannot protect are already showing obvious signs of attack.

Understanding Why I Write What I Write

The point of my books is to enlighten those who are already under attack, as well as others who are not, about covert warfare or organized violence. This includes showing those who are not under attack how easy they can become targets, giving as much information on the attack methods and technologies involved as is possible, and giving advise on how to foil attacks or become resilient of body and mind while under attack.

Rather than provide information that can inadvertently frighten and prevent people from standing up for their rights or speaking against the evil they perceive and, for those who are already targets, can cause desperation or resignation to a fate, I try to show there is light at the end of the tunnel. I hope that by providing precisely that information that will help develop a better understanding of what is happening, and also afford the capacity to fare better; showing vulnerabilities in the elimination processes, and revealing the entrenchment of the activity in the culture at large, rather than emphasis on the attack methods and classified or non-classified technologies involved, I will help empower Targeted Individuals as this is where I believe the battle is really at.

There are as many approaches to solving the problem of organized violence, state sponsored or otherwise, out there, as there are activists for the cause. Each and every one of us is invaluable to the process, in our own way making contributions that are making a difference. Most of our approaches are influenced by our convictions, and our own beliefs or understanding of what constitutes the best countermeasures. My approach relies heavily on self protection as I feel that, other than those who are selected for purely experimental purposes, or the fact attacks are designed to destroy the target's mind and body, targets are selected because they are seen either as weak links in the whole, or importantly, as the very vehicles through which revolutionary sentiments may find actual, real life expression.

The truth as I see it is that, in many of the targets of covert warfare, unknown to a lot among them due to immaturity, lifestyle or the effects of the attacks on their mental well-being, we have the very people who could be key to finding the method, the key that stops the activity permanently, if not renders it a mere nuisance. A lot among us are selected precisely because of this, and this here is a real war we are fighting, that has far reaching ramifications not only for our personal lives, but those of our communities. As soldiers in a war we never declared, whether we are man or woman, we have to learn how to find the strength to stand up after getting knocked out, stand up against the might that can get piled against us. We have to learn to give ourselves as much room as will enable the full expression of the very personalities deemed a problem by the system. This, rather than the process of informing those who do not yet know, among them a good number of whom could never digest the information provided anyway, and another for whom taking action is the last thing they would dare even contemplate, is what I consider the best way to go, without being as dumb as to conclude this is the only good method, that all else is useless.