I don’t know who has a longer memory: me, or the internet. But I do recall the days before fake news too the place of “journalism.” So-in the story below-note how the headline-which was once protected speech-is now “classified” as a “symbolic interaction” that is attacked all along it’s internet journey from the old LA Times(back when people still had paper news), to your computer screen there in front of you now.
Or: speech policing 101.
UPDATE 07-20-2020: The savvy reader can skip my “coded speech, ” and go directly to a post about the gang stalker, retired county coroner Joyce Kato, and her explosives-savvy former boyfriend Frank Tomota, mentioned below.
When I was gang stalked, I used every linguistic clue that these stalkers leave behind, including IP addresses, names, pseudonyms and more to prove my case. And, if one thing is CERTAIN, gang stalkers are sloppy fucks, leaving sloppy trails to follow online and off. The odd name “Frank Tomota ” appears in many online narratives, and especially in Minnesota, where I was gang stalked. A weirdo named Deb Matheny was part of that.
I mean-now, of course, we see the Utah Data Center loaded to the water-cooled core with NSA-tampered conversations-whole webs of relationships,and whole political elections manipulated at the switch-Hitlers IBM punch card-genocide dream come true-sure, “they” win, now-whoever “they” are this time around. I mean, my brain is only so magnificent. I’m no Aaron Hernandez brain-one of the most damaged brains of all time-but wow! “They” would love to crack it open-again.
Many who read ROGS are surely wondering “why is the ROGS thesis so damned different than any and every other writer who writes about organized gang staking?” And: how can ROGS remember all this stuff?Well- get out your ROGS bingo card cuz’ this ain’t my first time at the wheel.
Related: How to read ROGS for journalists, civil litigators, criminal defense lawyers, psychologists sociologists and others who have encountered gang stalking. Compare the basic claims in these “disappeared internet” cases with the case of former CBS investigative journalist Sharyl Attkisson, who is suing the DoJ for hacking her and planting documents on her computer.
And-certainly that lawyer in San Francisco helped me a bit, if only because his “lizard hunting” kept him from speaking up (Hi Tarek, and Ed “the meth slave,” the number 13, and the compromised and enslaved ALC! Here below is a blast from YOUR past).
And, of course, the answer is that the brains that were formed in the pre-internet era were not flooded with constant shots of dopamine, as we see now that the former Facebook CEO has admitted that their actual goal was to do just that-and to DO IT to kids.[link] Kids. On YOUR WATCH. Yup-literal mind control, at the corporate switcharoo.
Yet, still, no matter how many battalions of paid shills and trolls-no matter how many manufactured terrorist events-and no matter how hard they try to shut us (you) up, waging peace is the right thing to do-that peaceful, civil disobedience and protest via the spoken and written word is the only proper reaction to the rampant abuse and corruption that has overtaken our nation, and our national narrative. And sure- you can do whatever you want to my naked, Windows 10 system-and I will STILL eat you up in a proper legal forum, single wordedly.
And, too, because I have been studying the internet in a different way than most: I have studied it as a dialectical tool of social control, and propaganda dissemination targeting a doe-eyed public, going back into the 1990’s. You know-way before *we* knew that the net was a two way remote viewing session every time we log in, routed between ATT switched hubs and NSA interactions from Michigan/Ohio/Georgia Naval stations and so on.
Here-have a look back into my own Palantir-which, because I write for free, is really a Volintir (Hahaha that is play on the word volunteer. Remember when “they” said that TI’s have no sense of humor, lol) Lets first look at “novel legal theories” going back into 1996:
1996 Novel Theories of Criminal Defense Based Upon the Toxicity of the Social Environment: Urban Psychosis, Television Intoxication, and Black Rage Patricia J. Falk Cleveland State University, [email protected]
Then, let’s study a story about love and loss-and police humor, and one of the most difficult, sad, thankless and arduous jobs anyone could ever do: the county coroner’s investigator.
You will note that in those days-before the internet became an actual 24/7 wiretap, beyond any dispute or legal challenge to that thesis statement-that decent journalism based in ethical reportage existed with public policy narratives that weren’t merely politicized crisis PR by brainwashed Twitter bots and bobble heads.
And journalists like Robert Parry wrote good stuff, as did Gary Webb who wrote Dark Alliance, and wo has since been vindicated as a genuine joournalist who earned his Pullitzer(and, who died from a mystery suicide-with two bullets for it(!?)).
Then, in the story below, note some of the language features, and shop talk- some of the jargon in the story. And also, note, that not everything rhymes with “Tomato.” Or gang stalking clues, 101. Friends and family, and all of that. You’ll see.
Hahaha. That’s another gang stalking joke about a certain and actual gang, that works from within “hidden places.” But I will leave it to you, the daily OGS reader (you, there, in Denver maybe-the guy with the flag on his truck, who has never read the Constitution) to figure out what the joke is.
And while you are at it-could you run these license plates for me? Here: 184.108.40.206 and its leap node, 220.127.116.11.
“Who are the peeple in your neighborhood, In your neighborhood….” Yeah- it IS nice to know who my neighbors are indeed. And I, like you, want to ensure they are not baby raping, baby bombing Nazi’s with flags on their trucks, but no knowledge of the Constitution that brought that flag into being-or exactly how it is under attack today (hint: speech prohibitions backed by organized gang stalking).
But in a Panoptical world-be careful that all of that peering (and Peer2Peering) into the abyss won’t byte you back; don’t think you are the only one “peering” in, cuz’ even the Oculus sheds a tear or two-and a name that is associated with the “deep state” (for now)”investigative privileged tool” of webterrogation. Then, there was that debacle back in 2012 where some tried to sell us on Limewire with a six way split screen. Nice try, bad guys!
So-try not to cry, big fellah’s and felates, I have protected first amendment speech FOR ALL OF US, and even you. So- what do you think Emile Durkheim would think of these wrods-and do you think there would “Whorfianism” would apply?
Well: Ain’t it cool what a fellah can do in the spirit of Thoreau and all those good guys? That a single person, unarmed, with words and cadavers? Hahaha. That’s a coroners joke from my own moldie oldie files (you’ll get the joke f you read the story below). Try not to eat head cheese over it though-you might get a case of “blow fly belly farts,” that leak slower than the DEA’s SOD:
Let’s keep this in mind as we read forwards-because none of us signed on for this:
WASHINGTON (Reuters) – A secretive U.S. Drug Enforcement Administration unit is funneling information from intelligence intercepts, wiretaps, informants and a massive database of telephone records to authorities across the nation to help them launch criminal investigations of Americans.
Yeah-that tastes yuckie. so, eat this story below for now-it seems the trough is gone-and even the chicken shit under it too.
Death and Kindness
As a Coroner’s Investigator, Joyce Kato Finds That Caring For the Dead Is Caring For the Living
January 06, 1997|ANGIE CHUANG | TIMES STAFF WRITER
A 91-year-old San Gabriel man had slipped into his pool and drowned. He lay on a gurney in his yard, a county worker a few feet away waiting to wheel him to a van. Los Angeles County Coroner Investigator Joyce Kato gently unwrapped his face for his daughter.
“Daddy . . . I’m so sorry . . . I didn’t want you to go this way,” the daughter sobbed as she stroked his cheek.
During her two years on the job, Kato, 31, has learned how to examine heads blown open by bullets, trained herself not to flinch at the stench of bodies decomposed beyond recognition, and taken up a weightlifting regimen to better equip her petite 5-foot frame to lift corpses.
But confronting those left behind never gets any easier. Though she has learned to subdue her emotions in most cases, she has cried alongside grieving family members. You never forget that the most routine case is someone’s personal tragedy, she says.
As a coroner’s investigator, Kato is part detective, part grief counselor and part body pickup worker. Most of all, her job is about bringing closure when life ends.
She is one of 27 investigators who are called to the scene of a death to identify the body, collect its personal effects and make observations to help determine the cause of death. Sometimes, investigators notify the next of kin. They do not perform autopsies, which are the domain of pathologists.
Ask Kato why she does the job, and she will tell you that caring for the dead is caring for the living. When she examines the bloody, bullet-ridden body of a young gang member, she knows there are loved ones who cannot understand why. When she must resort to labeling a body as John Doe because it is so decomposed or burned, she knows there may be somebody who agonizes over the uncertainty.
“If you ask a really good coroner’s investigator, ‘Why do you do it?’ they’ll say ‘for the families.’ I feel the same way myself. I try my hardest for the families.”
The Los Angeles County Department of the Coroner, one of the busiest in the nation, handles 19,000 cases a year. The investigator’s role often falls into the public eye in high-profile homicide cases. But homicides make up less than 10% of the coroner caseload. Those who die unremarkably and in obscurity–unexplained natural deaths, accidents and suicides–constitute the majority of a investigator’s work.
Balancing professionalism with humanity can be as subtle as a certain inflection in her voice or as demonstrative as an embrace. “I’ve hugged people before,” Kato said. “You just know that’s what they want to do.”
Kato’s capacity for caring was apparent from the start, said Craig Harvey, chief of operations for coroner’s office. “She has the type of compassion to be sensitive when things are really raw for the family.”
But emotional sensitivity can lead to harrowing moments for investigators. Kato remembers a suicide, one of her first cases. The teenage son of an immigrant Vietnamese family had hung himself. She needed the older brother to translate the suicide note, written in Vietnamese, for her. The parents sat in the living room as the brother read the letter out loud in Vietnamese and then in English.
The parents began to weep, and then the brother broke down and could not finish. Kato says she couldn’t help crying.
Capt. Dean Gilmour of the coroner’s investigative division said every investigator has a tearful moment at some time or another, even if it is quietly alone at the end of a workday.
Still, Kato said, the experience with the suicide “has changed the way I handle myself out on the field. I try to be as professional and polite as possible without getting emotional. I let them know they can give me a call if they need something, and then I try to go.”
Suppressing emotions does take a toll, however. Since starting her job, Kato has gone from smoking a pack a week to a pack every two days–a habit she said is “a way of handling the stress.”
Another coping mechanism among coroners is a macabre sense of humor. A colorful vocabulary often accompanies shop talk in the office. A body found in a damp place is a “moldy oldie.” A decomposed body is a “stinker.” Toys of skeletons, vultures and rats decorate some of the investigators’ desks, though Kato chose more conventional family photos to hang above hers.
Kato said she understands why an outsider would be horrified by this irreverent humor, or upset by seeing coroners laughing among themselves at a death scene. “I hope the public understands it’s a necessary part of how we function,” she said. “Otherwise it would be too pathetic.”
It’s not always easy to come home and talk about her workday with friends and family. Although Kato’s boyfriend of 10 years, Frank Tomota, an automotive service advisor, is “very proud and very supportive” of what she does, he doesn’t like to hear the specifics, she said. He’s getting better, she added, but she doesn’t expect him to take a tour of the office any time soon.
Kato’s mom also is adjusting–slowly. “She keeps telling me to find a new job.”