PROLOGUE.

It's hard to know where to start telling your story when you wake up at Fifty to the unspeakable Full Body Knowing that your entire adult life has been an MK Ultra Monarch Mind Control experiment orchestrated by Luciferian Freemasons, Australian Military, US and French Navy and all five eyes of the bug eyed Secret Service who work in with their not so small army of Geppetos, Mary Shelleys and Magicians to re craft you in their image and keep you totally In Reach and Somewhere Over The Rainbow so they can use you, abuse you, turn you into their own Unique Doll which can be thrown off the Freedom Train at a time of their choosing.

Yeah I'm talking to you Bob Holman. Take your Bow.

The people I speak of have names and addresses but I don't want to do to unto others as they have done to me so most of those names will be altered HOWEVER if you dared to get in front of my camera with your team of Organised Gangstalkers  or infiltrate my body of work with your slow kill murder then the applause is all yours. I take no credit. Not even for the camera work. God kept that camera in my hands when I had been deliberately disassociated and my brain had stopped working. Praise the Lord and pass on the Gravy.

This is my story.

I was deaf dumb and blind for 30 years but Jesus Christ broke my mind control.  If you don't get to the end of my tale that's your takeaway.  This is a satanic mind control and your average shrink is clueless that it even exists or alternatively has been trained by the enemy to have you locked up or locked down in a state of medicated bliss.  

Joseph Campbell said the job of the artist is to follow their bliss but he's a Liar.  Bliss is just a brand of toilet tissue that they hand you to clean out your head when they've finished with you and I can tell you what lays at the end of the yellow brick road. A pile of ruby slippers the size of a drag queens  hoof outside a dog house where Toto is being served for dinner.  It's a masonic sodomite death cult that runs our world and the road to death is paved with Petite Mortes and Petty Power Pushers who all want to be god and who will sell out their Mothers to get there.

My quest for truth has only kept me in a state of terror and ongoing horror but I write hoping that my truth will set free the next generation of Australians.  I write for the Widows and Orphans. I write for the memory of my Monarch Slave Grandmothers who were killed off early and their memories erased.  I write to save my niece and vindicate my nephew because there is no next generation for me. They kept me in their butterfly collection until menopause because this is a Eugenics programme at the end of the day.

The group of participants involved in my enslavement collectively calls itself  The Family and over thirty years I have probably met all the relatives.  I realise now that meeting Eugene Gambino at that roof top part in New York was probably not an accident. He told me this adorable story about how he made a deal with God to go clean and that got him off a Jail sentence and I am a sucker for a miracle story but deal or no deal he still needed a job and I don't know how you unbecome a Gambino. To give him credit apart from that very naughty fib I saw the lamb in him. I really did.  He may have been born a gurgling Mafioso but Eugene was the most honest crook I ever met and much more authentic than all of the White Collar Creeps who have programmed and handled me over the decades. I did a story on him for the ABC radio but I never got a commission again after that was aired so I spose they were one step ahead of me.  There are Producers at the ABC who KNEW I was programmed and who commissioned work like Crazy just to show off my MK but I became less entertaining the deeper I fell in the rabbit hole. 

I think my stories saved me. My stories kept my hands on the table when they were trying to pull my body under the water.  My stories kept me on my quest and the quest was always truth and love and through my stories I humanised them and in doing so I gave them less reasons to hurt me.  Eventually they just let go of me. The one's with lamb in them anyway. Which brings me back to what I saw in Eugene and why I remember him fondly but I know now through the testimony of Kay Griggs that part of this global operation is run by the Brooklyn New Jersey Mafia and that's Eugene's mob so from this information I can surmise he was in on it.  But at least that mob still love their mothers and believe in Jesus not like the rest of the reptilians who whose Vision for the family is more like Charlie Sheen in Two and a half men. There's a good reason why the little man left the show and turned to Jesus. That kid was switched on.  

Mostly the perpetrators of my perpetual abuse were not Prophets or Stoneage men. They're closer to the Golden Dawn, immersed in Crowley's uniform and friends of the OTO and the Hell Fire Club and Guru Adrian.  They're Students of Thelema  and acolytes of Ginsberg and Burroughs.  They're Atheists who think they're God.  They're Feminists who view other women with a pathological Jealousy.  The men don't know if they're Arthur or Martha because Baphomet has two tits AND a ball bag.  All Hail the Tranny and bring on (don't call me) Bruce Jenner. In short they're all Mad Scientists or programmed Dolls of Cognitive Dissonance.

Now turn on your television and tell me I lie. I was just the 80's Experiment and what was tested on me is LIVE and mainstreamed and how do you like your world now? Is it really Wonderful now you have a Double Groom on the Wedding Cake ? Do you all feel safe and at peace and excited for the future now Agenda 21 is at our doorstep and the Septic tank has leaked into your Disney strained brains?

These people turned me into their door knob and then gave me a set of keys that didn't work as they tied their arms behind my back and raped me.

They did it in such a way where nothing was said and nothing was done and well if you really want to know the machinations just listen to Bob Holman's Poetry.  He'll tell you how its done. In more ways than one. Sit down and pop the corn.  It's in the Box. It's Behind the Door It's in the Eucalyptus Octopus. It's an Immaculate conceptions spawned from mental masturbation.  They all want to be gods and goddesses but all they can really do is pervert and subvert God's creation. The devil is an imitator which may explain why we keep seeing the same stories, movies, musicals and art work pumped out over and over and over. Take God away and these creeps all run out of fuel.

My Puppet Masters did not have to take me to their Underground Barracks or Military labs to programme me. My Doll house was the world. It was Wonder Word in 1985 or  New York on September 11th 2001 or Cape York in 2009 and it continued to follow me where every I went because they knew where I was going before I did.  They knew because they planted it the ideas and they set up the sign posts and they organised the sweet old ladies to meet me at the other end. 

My MK Monarch Programming was a Full Immersion Affair where fact and fiction blend into each other like an oil painting.
It was on the streets and in the lanes and down the penny arcades

and in the Gardens.

It was in the theatres and pubs and squats and performance spaces.

and the share accommodation

It was in Paris and Amsterdam and London and Prague where it greeted me with a red crepe paper carpet.  It drove me to Austria looking for Barry Kosky. It invited me to Amsterdam and drove me through the Wedding strip of Las Vegas. It trapped me in New York and chased me all the way around Australia and the funny thing is that I got the whole hallucination on Camera so nobody can tell me that I imagined anything.  Those who tell me my torture is all in my head have been programmed to do so.  We've all been programmed to various degrees to see and hear nothing we're not allowed to see. 

The Hidden Hand likes to stay hidden.  The hand that rocks the cradle doesn't want you waking the baby because then the baby might scream and wake up the neighbours and if the neighbours wake up then the show will be over.  Magic doesn't work anymore once you know how the trick is done.

But where did this all begin? How was it even possible to lock me into an orchestrated world where I was handled from all sides, coerced into orchestrated narcissistic cycles (Idealise, De value Discard ) and my responses monitored and manipulated as I was loaded up with programmes and triggers like some wired up doll.

How would you do that? How would you induct someone without them knowing? How would you programme them without them having a clue what you were doing?

My story is long and as I had Wonder World training which taught me not to mention anything that couldn't be SHOWN so lets start with my Carrie at the Prom Style Debut through an MTV Film Clip.

Songs are the spells designed to alter your perception of reality and are stacked with subliminal messages designed to lock you in unwittingly.  We have laws against physical verbal and psychological abuse but where are the laws against Satanic Abuse ?

If you don't believe in the life of the Soul then there's no need to protect it? In a world where God does not exist the Luciferians hold court.  So this is why all my perpetrators pretend to be secular. The Dummies actually believe they are atheist and they just end up as worm food and road kill but the ones at the top of the tree know much better.  They'll use their secret spiritual knowledge against you and kill you without you even knowing you were murdered.  Howz that for clever.  Yes they're clever but they're all going to hell.

My Debut happened through the Satanic Ritual of an MTV film clip.  This was organised through my boyfriend at the time who introduced me to Alex Proyas the Director of Dark City, I Robot and The Crow. (Rip Branden Lee.) Did I mention God's of Egypt? Can anyone see a thread here about MK ULTRA Mind control and the Luciferian vision for the future. No?  Of course not.

What am I thinking? I must be crazy. Mea Culpa!

Or you might just be uneducated ?

I knew Alex when he was just a pre maturely aged pudding of a young man who was already hailed as our own home grown Kubrick by those in the know. He lived in a share terrace house on Australia Street and his production company Meaningful Eye Contact was just up the road in Newtown. They made film clips when MTV was killing the radio star.  They did mega budget clips with bands like Crowded House and INXS and so when I was asked to be the leading lady in a Flash in the Pan film clip entitled Midnight Man I was thrilled of course. Who wouldn't be! No doubt just as thrilled as Nicole was when she was cast in Eyes Wide Shut.  I thought I was the Cat's pajamas and the Bees Knees and when I look at the hive mind that I became hostage to perhaps I was right.

Because in retrospect this casting was not the compliment it presented itself to be and I recall I felt a little suspicious of it at the time.  I sang in a post punk band called Saigon Children's Choir and cared for kids during the week so the casting felt out of character verging on the ridiculous still Every girl wants to play the love interest.

But it wasn't until I got on set that I realised that this film clip was not a love story. It was a hate story and creep fest of alienation. I hated the shoot and after it was released I couldn't watch it because it hurt to see myself cornered in that three minutes of musical rape. The clip opens with the words Ritten Off  graffiti d on a back street building.  This is an MK ULTRA double entendre.   Ritten rhymes with Kitten and the Cat is the marker for Beta Programming. Which according to the Masonic Dictionary  'beta - sexual/social programming, used for public personalities.  Usually a high charisma affair, beta is, contrary to popular belief, mostly for being a good entertainer, although there are often sexual codes in there as well.  Yes if you can't entertain the troops you will become their Candy girl or Comfort Woman. Those are the choice for Beta Slaves so you'd better be nice to your TV execs if you don't want to end up on the White Slave Trade.

Interestingly enough when I got the Wonderworld job, The Telegraph gave Hugh and I a full page article and the article to the left of our spread right above my head was titled 'Have Cat Will Travel'.

You think that's a coincidence ? I don't.  Lets go back to the Masonic MK dictionary and look up Cat - a pejorative term used to describe a female MK, usually associated with beta programming in the common usage, but possibly can contain any other level of programming as well.  I see the cat emerge over the years, the beta programme spread like a type of candida all through my body of work, through the shows and the poems and the photos and right up unto the dream that I had the night after I'd launched 21st Century Showgirl on Myspace  I had this dream about a cat. It was a black cat and for some reason I picked up an axe and I chopped it in half and I couldn't work out why I did that. It was spontaneous and sudden and the cat started screaming and dancing around the room in agony with its entrails spreading all over the floor like a pro hart painting and I had all these boxes on the floor. Many boxes unopened and the head part and the tail part were racing around the boxes like they were looking for each other. It was so unbearable. The worst dream I've ever had in my life I couldn't stand it so I picked up a box and stood over the head of the cat and got ready to drop it and it looked up in my eyes and screamed and that's when I realised The Cat Was ME. 

So that's where the cat ended up.  Ritten off from the first frame to the last dream.  The Film Clip I black starred in Midnight Man by Flash in the Pan provides the prologue and predictive programming.

As it closes in on my flat shoes walking through dark inner city streets as I walk up the stairs to enter my home where I'm cold and alone with Greta Garbo smoking nervously on my bed until a Big White Gloved hand

 knocks my door down busts into my room and forces me to get dressed to go to a night club

where everyone ignores me except a very serious predatorial looking dude who is standing on the other side of the room checking me out.

I must admit when I met my leading man I was disappointed. There was nothing attractive about him and so I couldn't even pretend to be partly intrigued by his interest.  But I suppose that's what Alex was going for. A mutual suspicion and a handlers contempt for the slave.

Nobody can pretend that this is a romance not even me in the aftermath because nobody understood at the end of that clip why I follow the Midnight Man out of the room and into the street.  Did I want to get raped or something? 'Where you goin girlfriend? whatchoo doing ?  She won't be able to tell you because that's trauma based mind control. You have no clue but you'll do it over and over again like some remote controlled robot.

Because fifteen years later I followed that same Midnight man back to New York to marry him knowing who and what he was. They're all shat outta the same can and cut from the same demon cloth.  I goose stepped back to my own annihilation in 2004  in a state of Stockholm Syndrome born out of having NO CHOICE because at that time  I was being isolated slandered gas lit and used as a Slave on the home front writing shows for Divas only to be spat out after the reviews had come in and it was time to pay me.  This didn't happen once. This happened to me over and over and over and over because if you had access to my triggers you could get me writing without a contract. I would be compelled by a type of spiritual thrall that I could not let go of until I'd finished. Maybe that's why my ex called me Moon Child? I certainly never ran out of fuel and never ran out of ideas and once I got a wind up I would  write day and night for weeks on end until I finished and handed it over and then I'd fall down in exhaustion and Wake up broke. 

From the outside I looked mental going back in to work with the same Abusers over and over and over. but if you consider that Monarch Programming is a systematic torture that puts up amnesiac walls to stop conscious processing then I wasn't mental. The people exploiting my programming for their own career trajectory were nothing less than conscious enslavers. It was a torture for me. That is the only way that I can describe it.

  This torture in Australia led me to a type of disassociation that floated me back to the Abuser I'd escaped in New York nine months earlier. You have no memory for your pain when you're a slave. You only want to be able to escape the hell that you're cornered in.  It's so perpetual. There's no let up. It's twenty four hours a day seven days a week and so you move from abuse to abuse in the search for relief which never comes.

 I didn't understand why I returned to Mr Manhattan in New York in 2004 after he had already shown me who he was and what he was capable of but that's why Fritz Springmeier calls it an Undetectable Mind Control.  Because nobody except the Programmers or Handlers can see it. Its all part of the deliciously dirty secret of the satanic ruling class. That's why the Midnight Man is wearing a tuxedo and a bow tie. That's why he's in black and white because it's always about duality - a common theme among the Freemasons, as seen in the symmetry of nature or concepts, which ultimately leads to a very special kind of retardation whose official symptoms are described as “black and white thinking”.

So the Midnight Man (the helping hand) all trussed up in a bow tie and a dinner suit comes striding in slow motion across the room to put his White Gloved hand on my shoulder and light my cigarette.

Lets not even mention the amount of X's and Boxes and did I mention triangles that have been etched onto the film frame and over my face and my body like a type of symbolic Bukaki

 It's obvious I'm scared of him and think he is a creep but I follow him back out of the club and into the alley way anyway just like an Monarch Programmed Slave would. The film is in short a satanic ritual, slave debut and a cinematic rape that officially marks me as the Enemy of Freemasonry. From then on I have been subjected to thirty years of White Glove Treatment.

Begin the Beguine....