Joe Biden (to whom his own son Hunter referred in his laptop phone book as “Pedo Peter”) and a Lubavitcher

“Redacted” is an excellent channel on YouTube by the former (fired) Fox reporter Clayton Morris and his cute and smart wife Natali, who like any normal woman and mother looks very disturbed throughout as they narrate this shocking story. Between the concrete pouring and the high chairs for kiddies, and the bloody mattresses, this points in just one direction.

I did a screen recording of this video in case it disappears.

 

A comrade sent me this.for which I thank him:

 

JEWISH RITUAL MURDER IN NYC!
—
Secret Jew Tunnels Contain Filthy Mattress, Apparently from Some Sickening Ritual (Andrew Anglin)

https://dailystormer.in/secret-jew-tunnels-contain-filthy-mattress-apparently-from-some-sickening-ritual/

Tunnelgate – SewerJews Beneath The Girls Bathroom, Near Epstein’s Place – Tunnels, Toddlers, & Soiled Mattresses

https://theserapeum.com/tunnelgate-sewerjews-beneath-the-girls-bathroom/

 

…..My childhood

The CIA hires jews and other satanists to molest and perpetrate EXTREME traumatization on little kids as a preparation for being trained in the MK-ULTRA program. The goal is a mind-controlled person as a human tool.

I speak from experience.

THIS is what I went through, but even worse, though if you read twenty pages of this, you may find it hard to imagine there is anything worse. For every kid the jews rape and kill, five more are left alive and made to witness it in order to be traumatized to the core, and turned into human putty. After I saw the excellent Robin Williams “indie” movie “One Hour Photo,” suddenly it all began to come back to me. Repressed memories can come back.

….About One Hour Photo:

The other night Margi, I and a house guest watched this movie that had utterly changed my life back in 2002, “One-Hour Photo” with Robin Williams.

He starred as a lonely nerd (a white male, and blond and blue-eyed,  btw) who worked in photo-developing at a Walmart-type store.

Well, while developing some family photos for his favorite customers, a family, he discovers something which horrifies him, and he goes nuts.

In reality, though many moviegoers do not “get it” at all, Williams is NOT any kind of  stalker or creepy, just a pitiful, lonely man who wanted an ersatz family.

….to be their “Uncle Sy.”

And when he confronts the adulterous husband with a huge knife, it is mostly his own “cry for help,” with no one actually getting physically hurt.

You can watch it here, and it may give you insights into a tiny bit of what happened in my life, though my own time in hell was part of the far worse thing, the Manchurian Candidate, MK-ULTRA government torture program: https://www.amazon.com/One-Hour-Photo-Robin-Williams/dp/B000I9VZRA

What I found, as Margi and her friend (who loved Williams as an actor) watched it with me (for me, it was the second time viewing it) was that the movie really confuses oblivious people.

And, hey, having repressed it all, even I did not consciously “get it” when it first came out in September-October 2002…

Or actually I did, but only on the subconscious level.

And that is why only my body had a radical reaction to it as I left the movie theater in the Back Bay of Boston, as I was about to blithely stride over to the subway station for the ride back to Winthrop, Massachusetts.

I had instead a totally subconscious eruption, an emotional upheaval, because of this film.

It actually was a “good” crisis, where after it passed I knew I had to get some answers.

 

In “Good Will Hunting,” Williams is a caring psychiatrist who lifts weights, is macho, and can nudge Matt Damon’s character into the courage to face his own terrible childhood pain.

 

But in One Hour Photo, Williams himself plays the human wreck and the agonizing “basket case.”

Under police interrogation – after he only scared the adulterous husband and his tussy with the knife, and did not harm them —  Williams (“Sy Parrish”) breaks down and blurts out to the detective what was done to him as a kid.

The detective suddenly “gets it,” he feels compassion, he sees no one was overly harmed, and he thanks him for being so open.

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.

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So, no, “One Hour Photo” is not about a sicko stalker. And no one gets hurt.

.

The cheating husband probably even straightened out as a result, as a late scene implies.

.

In fact, maybe it was a win-win, because Sy too benefits, finally letting it all hang out, the horror, when a child is abused to the core by evil adults, and now “Sy” may even get some serious therapy help.

…..which is what I did, at age 49.

Yes, Mr. Tough-Guy Marine. Even I got so tired of my constant, searing, wake-up-screaming nightmares, decades of either insomnia or nightmares that after 1) this movie, and then 2) the Boston Globe exposé of pedophile Catholic priests, I went and got help.

Here is an except (I know you cannot take too much of this…) from the book Unshackled, below, and this was “only” at the MK-ULTRA level.

This was NOT at the even more hideous, even more satanic, even more soul-scarring “Manchurian Candidate” level of pure, sick agony — where the CIA/FBI/Deep State is funding supposed “white supremacist Nazis” who are neither white nor WNs but jews and their minions. Instead, the perps are committed JEWISH and Gentile Satanists. They rape, torture and kill WHITE CHILDREN.

Or they force them to rape and kill each other, gladiator-style, in order to be spared torture and death themselves.

And then these Khazars tell the trembling, urinating-on-themselves-in-fear child victims

“WE are Nazis.”

***

http://archive.org/stream/2003SullivanUnshackledASurvivorsStoryOfMindControl/2003%20%20Sullivan-%20Unshackled,%20A%20Survivor’s%20Story%20of%20Mind%20Control_djvu.txt

Kathleen Sullivan — was tortured and forced to kill babies and children to become a mind-controlled “hitwoman”

“I met Kathleen Sullivan near the beginning of my healing as a ritual abuse survivor. We connected through PARC-VRAMC. It was early in the survivor movement, but Kathleen was already there reaching out to others and sharing her knowledge of recovery issues. I purchased one of her books, Lessons We Have Learned: A Survival Guide, and found it full of valuable information. She told me about her living memorial garden to honor the dead, and comfort those who had survived. I was able to see some of the gardens, walkways and monuments in her newsletters and on her website.

“When I considered starting my own non-profit organization, it was Kathleen who pointed me in the right direction, and assured me I could succeed. With determination, I found my way through the stacks of government forms. Kathleen has remained a courageous and outspoken advocate to this day. She is an example of strength and fortitude. I wish her much success with her new book. She has earned that success. May her book be a means to educate the public and assist survivors around the world.’

— Jeanne Adams, founder of Mr. Light & Associates, Inc.

“Kathleen Sullivan makes the critical connection between the communications industry and the mind-control projects. Her ability to see through the pain and horror to the truth, the actual reasons behind the systematic abuse of children, is exceptional. I highly recommend this book for those interested not only in what happened, but why.”

” Patty Rehn,
US Contact
The Advocacy Committee for
Human Experimentation Survivors (ACHES -MC)

“We all look for the purpose God gave us to be put on this earth. Sometimes we come to find out that purpose. If I have one thing to teach from my experience, it is that we must be knowledgeable so we don’t continue to make the same mistakes and allow bad people to take advantage of us and our children. The answer is there. Dig for truth and then share it.”

— Jackie McGauley, Advocate,
Affirming Children’s Truth (ACT)
TunnelReport @ aol . com

“As a criminal-justice trainer and consultant on cult crimes and crimes against children, one of the difficult tasks is coming to terms with the unacceptable evils that are done against little ones. One has a choice: ignore it and pretend it isn’t real, or face it and do
something about it.

The second way is more painful and difficult; but to do nothing is to let the evil flourish. Ms. Sullivan’s book is a book that demands a response. Read it only if you are prepared to be responsible for the awful truth you will learn, and brave
enough not to turn away.”

” Dr. Gregory Reid, DD
Occult Research and Crime Consultants

Excerpt

from

 

When I was only four years old, Dad started making me kill babies, his hands forcing mine. Each time he made me kill a precious baby
(really, he killed it), he said that either I would do exactly as he said, or he would kill the baby himself, after giving it additional pain. Dad never made an idle threat. When I resisted, he immediately tortured the infant and laughed, forcing me to watch.

Although the guilt of killing the babies was unbearable, I knew they were better off with my killing them as quickly and painlessly as possible, than if my father tortured them first.

I couldn’t possibly live in both my home and ritual worlds with a single mind and consciousness. I’m certain I would have either gone insane
or died from the cumulative emotional shock and physical pain.

Since he kept me up late during those rituals-going to bed around 3:00 AM was the norm –I was often sleep-deprived the next day.
Exhausted, I sometimes accidentally slipped into a trance state. When I did, I had flashbacks of the rituals. The strange words spoken at them poured out of my mouth. To a psychiatrist unfamiliar with ritual chants, my words might have sounded like “word salad,” a kind of gobbledygook spoken by some people who suffer from schizophrenia.

Each time I did this, either Grandpa M. or another relative drove me in his car-usually a station wagon-to a flat-roofed, one-story facility
some distance from the city. Mom usually sat in the front, passenger seat while I lay down on the back seat to keep from throwing up from motion sickness.

The driver usually parked just beyond a dull-colored, plain metal door on the right side of the building, near the back. Each time, I was whisked through that side entrance, then a short distance down the narrow corridor into the first empty room on the right.

Each time, I was made to lie on my back in that private room on a single-sized hospital bed, with my wrists and ankles in leather restraints.
Up to my left, in a cement wall, was a white-covered window. The door to the corridor was across the room. It was also made of dull-colored metal with a small, criss-crossed, wire-reinforced window that a tall, putty-faced, brown-haired man in a white medical coat occasionally
peered through.

Whenever Grandpa M. brought me there, he talked to me alone in the room, reminding me that I had to stay there until I stopped “talking.”
After he was gone, the room became my safe place. Alone and undisturbed, I was able to remember what I unconsciously repressed at home. 6

In that private room at the facility, I fully remembered the secretive, occult rituals. I remembered that Dad took me to several different buildings in the Reading [southeastern Pennsylvania] area. I remembered a large, encircled hexagram on the floor of each ritual room-white if the floor was painted black, and black if the floor was light colored. I saw the flickering white candles that were placed carefully on each point of the star, where it touched the circle. I heard the otherworldly chants of my relatives and other adults who walked around the circle, clad in long black robes with pointed hoods.

I recalled ritualistic activities that my father and other adult cult members performed in those buildings. Their “sacrifice” might be a child to
be raped, an animal to be killed, or — on special days — a (pure) infant or a child to be slaughtered. Afterwards, during the inevitable anticlimatic
orgy, I was ordered to sexually service the adults.

I remembered another night when Dad took me into a large wooded park near our neighborhood. There, he bound me, naked and inverted, by my wrists and ankles to a big wooden cross that he’d laid on the ground. After he restrained me, he inserted a cattle prod into my stretched vagina and electrically tortured me in a way that quickly broke my mind, creating an alter-state that compartmentalized a deep and powerful rage.

During some of the indoor rituals, Dad told me that child sacrifice was sanctioned by God, because He had commanded Abraham to sacrifice his son. He also said that unholy communion-cannibalism and drinking victims’ blood-was sanctioned because, after all, Christians professed to drink Jesus Christ’s blood and eat His flesh during communion.

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Whew.

 

MK-ULTRA and “Unshackled — A Survivor’s Story of Mind Control” by Kathleen Sullivan