I filed a complaint with the Department of Justice
Most of us have viewed scenes from videos about animal cruelty in slaughter houses. The cows frantic, full of fear, slipping on their own excrement, falling as they're shocked by human beings using cattle prods. Now someone has to do this job because we all, most of us, like to eat at McDonalds, which is something I am seriously rethinking in the darkness of the past four or so weeks. There are some people who like this job too much.
My mother was in a nursing home for five and a half years. She past away July 20, of last year. I met a guy while she was there and come to find out we knew a lot of the same people and places from when we were younger. He had cancer and his condition had gotten worse over the past two months. I had been trying to spend more time with him simply because I didn't want him to not have anyone there for him. I couldn't just forget about him. But I wasn't there for him the last two weeks of his life like I wanted to be, because these guys have been working me night and day since I filed an addendum to my complaint with the FBI.
They haven't been using cattle prods on me. They would like to but it would leave burn marks. Visibility is what they don't like. Yet they are visible among the conversations with others. The visibility is deceit and deception. They are liars and the father of lies. The deeds of their father they will do.
They burn me, poke at me, make my body jerk and make the muscle tissue contract in pulsations. They can and do keep the muscles that control urinary and bowel movement in a state of tension. They can cause the muscles surrounding the anus to contract violently.
I speak insults to them beneath the sound of my voice. A few days ago after watching and listening to me in a tender moment, they began to prod me repeatedly until I started hurling insults at them. In the moment, I realized that it was all provocation to convince someone who could hear my insults.
These guys are masters of manipulations, masters of deceptions and masters of fabrications. They lead people in the paths of destruction for their names sake. They get someone they want to use and they get them to cross a line. Then they need for them to cross another line. Now there is no way back. The lines they have crossed are now joined to the worst acts ever committed in human history. And so it is today.
Triblenka still lives in real memory cells. Naked men, women, and children whipped and ran through the tube slipping on their own excrement, frightened on their way to their death. There is a difference between concentration camps and extermination camps.
Michael Benoit
Comments