"I saw them; how eager they were to kill kids"
Of all the absurdities of this "New World Order", nothing hit home at just how subtle, how out-of-the-public's mind, murder can be when considering the operations of those that own the media PROGRAMMING, the prisons, the police, the courts, the media PROGRAMMING, the children's curriculum in all the schools from grade-school to University. Nothing could ever be compared to the sudden exposure of all the FBI, S.W.A.T., Provo Police, Detectives, Channel 2 & 5 News, of all the supplemental witnesses such as the nice Mormon couple that ran the Amenity Inn Motel in Provo Utah; still nothing could hold the murderers accountable.
Provo heard a lie via programming, and the rest of the world heard nothing, of two very dead kids.
Not even God could have saved those kids
for the onslaught that was to befall them while they slept.
The tv stations that interviewed me when I walked from the on-site laundromat televised me saying :
"....and all I heard was bam, bam, bam...."
This shocked me.
For some indoctrinated reason it was somehow presumed that the
would be eager to share my 20 or 30 minutes of interview with the rest
of the world. Instead, the only words worthy of being newsworthy
apparently are a redundant "bam" in bam, bam, bam.
I don't recall if they even put a face with those televised words. Through Corporate Programming I was instantly converted from a witness to a crime, to a nameless, faceless person that only heard "bam, bam, bam".
They left out the part where I stated there was not due process of the law as they blasted those kids to death with a barrage of bullets.
They failed to report any need for a fair trial, before the executions of a young boy and girl.
They failed to mention the fact that I had related to them of the lack of announcement from the police. There were no "Freeze Police!", there were no "Come out with your hands up!", there was no humane method exercised by grown men to announce what was about to murder them. Grown men could not conceive a better means to get the kids out of the only door to room 212 of the Amenity Motel.
The media failed to mention that I stated that the actions of the armed men put the rest of the public at risk, and that the humane thing would have been to get the rest of us citizens out of the motel for our safety.
Instead, the "officer friendlies" used a grenade (the media referred to this in a one-liner as a "flash-bang device". As if we couldn't possibly be any more dumbed-down. We should be so lucky that the media didn't call it a "goo-goo, gah-gah"...."flash-bang"...phhhttt).
Instantly after the first loud bang from the grenade came down the door, then a barrage of bullets to ensure that the boy and girl were dead where they slept.
I had never heard
a blast that loud before. After composing myself, putting on
stepped out into the outside as pieces of the ceiling were flaking down
room and bed.
An agent spotted me! He was possibly FBI, not police, and not swat. Dressed in a black suit and suddenly activated as if by a switch, pointing to me as he walked aggressively in my direction shouting "GET BACK! GET BACK IN THERE! GET BACK AGAINST THE WALL NOW!. He had me inside the room and I was pretty much with my back against the left wall toward the head of the bed. He briskly walked past looking pumped up on the devil and demanded to know who else was with me in there. But by the time I answered, he was already knowing the answer as he did a quick look-see into the bathroom and the tiny coat area, and was heading back toward me barking the order that I was to stay in the room and not come out.
However, that order seemed a bit vague to me as there was not the attached timeframe. I had a new job to go to in the morning. So when the coast was clear of that particular agent, came I out with a load of laundry, exiting left to the small laundry area in the inner-corner of the motel that was shaped like an "L".
At one point I realized it was going to be a long night, and that I probably was not going to get much sleep.
The motel was either out of detergent or I hadn't the correct change so I began to pass through the parking lot toward the road where the media were held back, their trucks and antennas and cameras and microphones moving back and forth.
*It is noticed this date, April 4, 2018, that all reports of the murdered kids was completely removed from the internet. This date I see there's not hardly any indication of anything that happened there. This is par for the course with this type of rule. I tried searching Google with search terms such as: "amenity inn 212 Utah flash" and, "amenity inn 212 Utah murder" and, "amenity inn Provo Utah murder two".
one result promised a synopsis that the killers were cleared
of the shooting deaths. I found the link using search terms
in google: "amenity inn Provo swat
FBI". I see that the myriad of comments were also removed
concerning the murders.
When was the last time
you heard of S.W.A.T. serving a warrant against a guy who simply made a
verbal threat (nothing physical) to a woman that had blocked him
parking space because she was inconsiderately parked, causing him
The story has changed a few times with the media PROGRAMMING.....conveniently the versions have been removed from the internet (and our mental consideration). As for their claim that he was a white supremacist, they could have stated he was anything under the sun (such as Black Panthers, Zionists, Taliban, Martian), but somehow to be in that particular group warrants capital murder without a trial. Meanwhile the plutocrats that create these atrocities are never questioned as they send your kids to other people's countries to murder millions, rah rah wave the flag and then consider I'm the "retard" and you're "normal".
I have my reservations
about the sanity of our
population having been exposed to bad
in reference to the dead kids, in just a few short years after the
happening, here's all I found:
Cleared (with lies),
swat break door down unannounced laying down a fluffy pillow of bullets
and utilizing a grenade against U.S. Citizens, authorities claim
biswell was of soundness of mind to awaken in miliseconds and locate a
(or was it a television remote, or cell phone, aw hell it was dark in
let's call it a gun!) to defend himself against the unverifiable,
unanounced, unknown aggressors / attackers.*somewhat
when does it become necessary (let alone legal) for S.W.A.T. and the
F.B.I. to serve a warrant for a threat made
by a martian, a whale, or a "white supremacist"? Our
programming heard one
man's title and all cognitive assessments and responses are turned off
as if with a light switch (Did I mention programming is not just for
computers?). Out of sight, out of
mind. The corporate media PROGRAMMING even
had the audacity to claim that one of the kids didn't die until
reaching the hospital. I can't even imagine which piece they
found still alive in there.
If there's a prayer that the state-sponsored terrorists ought to be praying, it's that there is no God.
A few ways to get a couple of kids to come out of that motel room peacefully.
1.) Gas him out using the only air-conditioner under the only window next to the only door of the room with a non-lethal dose of sleeping agent.
2.) Knock on the door to announce to the occupant that he is wanted and find out if he's willing to come out peacefully (and to send out any other bodies that might have nothing to do with the warrant being "served".
3.) Wait him out. He's got to get hungry sometime. Feed him that crap about how the tax money go toward the inmate's "well rounded nutrious meals". (Tell him there's an extra bologna sandwich in it if he comes out peacefully). God forbid if the agents should save a bullet and a grenade from our already negative monetary worth (i.e. http://usdebtclock.org)
4.) Ascertain if whether or not his mother, his sister, his brother, his grandmother, his father, etc. would kindly come down to call the boy out.
could possibly go on about all the humane ways to get a boy out of a
the options available in my mind would
NOT be to throw a grenade through the window and lay
down a barrage of bullets....that's just common sense. If another
man can tell you to kill a kid, what kind of ethical-deficient creature
does that make you? Was it for the $30.00 dollars you are paid
that if this type of "justice" is legal, then Hitler's Army too, are
innocent. They also were just "doing their jobs". Why
should murdering two of our OWN be lesser than what Hitler's Armies did
to the rest of the non-German world's children?
While passing through the parking lot I passed by an officer, I believe he was S.W.A.T. I inquired as to what was going on. He stated he knew as much as I did, but that the guy up there did something really bad and that they were not aware that a girl was in the room with the man. I went on to another agent and inquired the same question, and he told me they had the place staked out for three days, and that I should keep moving.
By the time I stepped foot on the sidewalk I was confronted with the media.
Later, after many of the agents were clearing out of the parking lot, I contemplated that earlier I inadvertently told my bipolar girlfriend over the phone which room I was in. I mistakenly told her room 212. The conversation was only a few hours before the kids were murdered in 212. The actual room I was in was 112. At the time when I was speaking over the phone with her, I heard voices in the background and remembered my perplexity to whatever was distracting her attention from speaking with me. Weeks later, my ex-girlfriend and I spoke again. She told me it was the FBI that was in her home coaching her, and that they were inquiring of my whereabouts (*when in fact, a few days earlier, I was released from their somewhat local jail only a few miles away. Read on please, I was guilty of nothing).
The other witness expressed to me in the laundromat after the bulk of the commotion had quieted (still with more officers than one might imagine needful for two kids, my estimate is more than 30 officials were complicitly running around there), stating that she did not want to get involved and something about her children being with her, she also failed to show up at the police station's press conference the following day. After the lady and I exchanged details concerning the state-sponsored murders, she went back to her room which was the room to the immediate-right of the laundromat. A day or two later was scheduled to be a "Press Conference" that was to be held at the Provo Police Department. I was denied access to the Press Conference which was held at their police station not far from the motel. I was the only witness other than a lady who was also staying at the motel.
After I was denied
access to the press conference, I stepped back out onto the sidewalk
debated if I too should just walk away, forget about it and not get
involved. I reasoned with myself that they were not my kids, however
blame religion for stopping the incoming
reporters. Since the initial "news" reports were incorrect
the details, one by one I confronted the reporters that were beginning
It was all the
same with the reporters though, "I'm sorry, I've got a job to
do and need to get in the station now, we're having a press
Other reporters stopped and
listened to me momentarily, but
apparently I'm not the greatest public speaker, and I imagine their
bosses stated to report on the conference only, so they would be in
dereliction of their "jobs" even if it were to gain an authentic
version of the murders.
The reason I felt compelled to
go to the Press Conference was due to a conversation I had the next
after the bloody night. Going into the front desk to pay the room
rate, the lady behind the front desk of the
Amenity Motel and I spoke about the murders the night before. The
kind blondie Mormon lady and her husband were
caretakers at the motel (or whatever they're job title is
called), but she spoke alone with me somewhat candidly. We began
discuss what happened the night before in more detail. The woman
behind the desk
disconcerted when I related to her that one of the agents had told me
that the motel had been staked out for three days. I went on to
state that the agent said it was to catch the man up
there, but were somehow not aware of the young girl
in room 212.
The woman became startled behind the desk, stopped me and stated, "that's impossible", she pointed toward what I'm assuming was her log-in book stating, "The girl is who rented the room and it was her that came down to pay the daily rent". She went on to state that her and her husband were not even aware that a man was up there since it was rented as a single-occupancy room.
I left her presence and slowly
walked back to my room noticing the state-sponsored smashed out window,
door, the caution tape, some holes from shots fired, the mess was
evidence of programming the extreme unlawful actions that hired men
were able to take to "ensure the
safety of the police" (against two sleeping kids).
Then while sitting on my bed, I began to realize something, for months I was made known by others all over the country that the government were looking for me. I had been told from numerous states that the FBI was looking for me and now here they were, right out in the parking lot just the night before. I began to recollect also, placing it into context that I had inadvertently told my girlfriend I was in the room directly above me, the room without a window, the room that surely had splattered blood over every wall and piece of furniture.
In fear, I left to a
country park to
pitch a tent and considered what to do next. It was while living in
that tent, eating creative meals with dry cat food because I was too
broke for people food, it was then that I called my
ex-girlfriend for more details about her encounters with the FBI.
I heard more than I was ready to hear.
Also, while at the park, the on-site parks-man, found out I had masonry experience. He and I had struck an agreement that if I installed a couple of masonry wing-walls outside of the restrooms which were not far from his camper, that he'd let me stay in the Park beyond the "lawful" limit, of which I was already beyond.
He remained to watch and help with the unloading of the concrete block and mortar from his truck until he felt comfortable that I knew what I was doing.
While working together though,
we spoke. I told him I had
recently been released from jail, and of the outrageous reason I was
placed in their jail in the first place. I told him I was held in
jail for months but the facts are that I hadn't done
ANYTHING wrong aside from wanting to be left alone and not bothered
The groundsman inquired more,
and I told him. I told him how Tamara, my ex-girlfriend, had
and pointed it at me.
I told him where it happened, directly in front of the door of a
"7-11" convenience store
on such-and-such street. I told him of how I was
incredulous at her sudden explosive demeanor, how I walked toward
grabbing her by the arms and shoulders and how I shook her into her
senses. (Tamara is Bipolar. Bipolar
people aren't totally bad....just not always predictable, even when
medicated, in my opinion).
I told the groundsman how I
just glad that she hadn't pulled the trigger (even if it was just a BB
gun), and how quickly the
situation had been quelled over whether or not I slept with someone
other than her (when in fact, She and I had only known each other
for a few months...maybe a year in all).
Suffice to say, Tamara became calmed down and we began to hear the sirens getting closer. I'm not certain that it was out of caring for my freedom that she told me to run, she knew about the FBI before the later incident of the Amenity Inn murders which folowed after my release from jail from this very incident. But when she said run, with a look that I knew was my last, I ran.
Weeks or months prior to the murders, Tamara and I had under happier moments, rented from the same Amenity Inn Motel. I was still growing in my hair that she had helped me to shave. At one point a relative had told me the FBI came to their home and startled them as they inquired about me. Somewhat angry because I knew I couldn't possibly have done anything that warranted being searched the country-over, so it was then that I ordered every solitary hair in every conceivably place of my body, including eyebrows and arse-hairs, which were shaved by myself and Tamara and packed into a large manila envelope addressed to the FBI.
It was presumed that once they see my DNA they'd leave me and my family alone. **There's actually MUCH MUCH more to this, it involves several states, two lie detector tests at the FBI office in Utah, a meeting with another couple of FBI agents in a county facility in Kentucky, and even a secret service agent (no kidding, if you don't believe me, ask the lady public defender that defended me at Horse Cave, Kentucky, the case is public domain).
But even though I was all the way in Utah, I was still hearing of the exploits of the FBI and police as they questioned my friends in Atlanta Georgia asking if I were capable of murder. One person was asked if I were capable of an assassination. I was still hearing of the lies the police and FBI were telling other acquaintances I had in Dallas Texas of how I may have killed a child (!!! This is the audacity of the programmed ones). While in Provo Utah, the first of two meetings with the FBI, initiated by my having called in to inquire about a cease-fire against my person, an Agent agreed to pick me up the following day. I was escorted into a brick building of an office parking lot full of similar other brick buildings. Taken into a large room with a larger than common table and some seats only, it was obvious that the large mirror in the wall served as a one-way window. I was introduced to a man from the east coast. The man had flown in from Washington, DC. When he insinuated that I was being questioned about a possible murder, that suddenly had me rising out of my chair as I shouted back to him that the only murderers in the room was them!
The DC agent left and the room was reduced to only myself and
that asked myriads of questions. I'm certain I passed his
inquiries just fine, however they asked for me to take a lie detector
test and I consented. Probes were put on my fingertips and I
think something else was placed on me somewhere (can't remember
exactly, possibly over the heart). Of course I answered every
question as honestly as I was able. Some of the questions I could
not possibly answer without stating more words than just the "yes" or
"no" that was repeatedly demanded of me.
The next day I attended another meeting with the FBI, and this time I was given some liquid that may have made me very giddy. I remember giggling, it was kind of bizarre actually, my spirits were at an all-time high (no pun expected). Again, they gave me another lie-detector test. They asked all sorts of questions, and many of them were repeated questions from the day before. I was reminded several times that I could only answer "yes" or "no" to the questions. The interviewer on the second day was the only one in the room throughout the whole visit, I knew there were others behind the large glass/mirror because at one point I answered a question inappropriately and I could hear the sounds behind the large mirrored wall. I'm assuming it was laughter and a slap against the table, but just in case, I apologized to the man asking the questions (realizing that my giddy state might not be appropriate).
The history of this started
sometime ago, but in relation to the aggressive visits FBI made to
family, they visited my sister's home
in NY at the time, inquiring about my whereabouts.
They questioned my mother who was a resident of Ohio at the time, stating lies to her to convince her to give my location up (she didn't know though. In fact, I wasn't running from anything in particular. I simply was travelling trying to find myself!).
They went to my father's in Florida and planted bad seed.
They even bothered a man whom I barely knew, a resident of a hole-in-the-wall town called Castor, LA.
They bothered people in Texas,
NY, GA, FL, UT, LA, and there were probably other states, too.
I was being tracked, terrorized, defamed, and the only thing I could conceive doing at the time was to stay far away from anybody I might love.
In retrospect, I can't think of much good that came out of living in Utah really, aside from the culmination of the second meeting with the FBI. It was there I learned who I was, what I was.
I'm very appreciative of that FBI for helping me to understand something that any normal person would probably have picked up on. The information has put closure on so many of my past ill-experiences.
Anyway, back to the 7-11 story: My girlfriend told me to run and I ran but was too tired to outrun the gun-toters, a.k.a.. officer friendlies. They threw me down and beat me, and after damaging my shoulder which is damaged even to this very day, I was jailed.
This is how I came to be in the Utah jail for disorderly conduct (or some other frivolous FALSE catch-all epithet).
I sat in that jail while Tamara came to visit with lesser and lesser frequency as the months passed. It was quite a distance for her to drive, but in her letters she related to me all her efforts to right the wrong that the justus system was doing by holding me for no lawful good reason. Even after I presented to the jail a copy of her full written admission, the so-called justice system would not let me go until I pleaded guilty to a lower "crime”.
And by the time I was released
from that jail,
probably with the sighs of the jail employees and upper
controllers. I was beginning to cost them as opposed to profit.
time I left there, not only were
there many more inmates requesting to go with me to the law library to
study, which required more officers to escort all of us onto a bus down
to the City Law Library at the Court/Attorney Den, the cost of doing so
seemed to coincide with the success of my motions to the court
and D.O.C. (Department of "corrections") which forced the illegal jail
to break ground for the
construction of a LAWFUL legal
library to be built for the inmates to further a semblance of a "fair
Understand something, there are no paid attorneys for the bulk of those held in the cages of jail. If those in jail HAD money for a paid attorney, they would have probably preferred to bail themselves out of jail in the first place. So in effect, the controlled test-population is comprised of the expendable poor, as they are forced in a predetermined corner to either "represent" himself, or trust that another man whom might meet with the inmate all of 20 minutes the day of trial.
studies revealed that with
judicial nomenclature, the victimized are left clueless in their
defense. Judicial nomenclature uses many common words that are
known to the average man, however the judicial crew take the common
words and give new definitions; an amazing perversion of our common,
words, that only the judicial system uses against the common man.
*I need to take a break. I will resume this some other time.
In another State (and time), a guard ordered some scared retard (like me but I'm not necessarily easily scared....conditioned is a better word for me)....anyway the guard ordered him out of the infirmary cell. We were in the area where it's referred to as "INTAKE". We are told the testing is to make sure us humans don't possess any invisible diseases which would hinder our being safely dispersed into the general prisoner population.
Anyway the retard across from
me was crying and balled
up on the small metal "bed" that jutted out from the rear of his cell
and was such a young small guy, it was hard not to feel sorry for his
situation, as I wondered if he were not making a mistake by failing to
obey the commands of the belligerent officer.
I was across the
hall from the retard and about 16 or 20 feet from his cell, I knew what
was going to happen all right. The guard didn't seem to care that he
mentally challenged. After shouting at the kid profusely, he left the
sobbing kid to only re-emerge later in a
full-padded, almost armored-looking, black suit, gloves, high boots,
shielded helmet, and not just him alone either!
Men arrived, literally
single file. I can't remember if it were the left, or right
hand, that each man had placed on the shoulder of the man in front
of him as they marched with a rhythmic purposeful stomp. It was bizarre
as the lead guard held the clear 3 foot shield
in front of him.... all those men for one little stripped and unarmed
When I tell you they beat the hell out of him, it really doesn't do the kid too much justice, so let me elaborate:
They beat and tazered this kid so hard and so many times that they completely disemboweled the kid right there on the infirmary's cell block floor. With the kid's guts hanging out and the guards unable to hide it from the two nurses, they began to play that typical "stop resisting" chorus. One of the nurses gave up and walked away stating " I can't watch this anymore " and left holding her hand over her mouth.
I'm relatively certain the kid
didn't live. You will obey.
Later, when I made it into "population", I learned of the particular guard that orchestrated the hit. He wasn't a common jailer, he was something like a Corporal or Sergent...something with a higher title. One day he was passing through overseeing the trustees as they gave the inmates meals through a dog-slot. I tried to find out if the kid lived. The killer answered curtly, "What's it to you?" as he walked up to my cell closer. "What? Do you know him or something? Mind your own f$#@! business or it could happen to you, got it?!"
Is this normal?
At "concepts 21" in Georgia my apartment roof and ceiling fell in.
In Dallas Texas my room was
the only room of an apartment building that had the roof fall through.
In Florida, the roof and ceiling fell in, F.E.M.A. and family luckily helped me out of that one.
In Ohio, at the Crow Residence, the ceiling fell (numerous times).
Which is why I feel compelled to now ask the question:
Is it normal to have this many ceilings fall in on one person?