Wink of an Eye Reversed

As I learned the reasons for meeting Russian spy Anna Chapman, NCIS special agent Douglas Boyce telling me that he had been a CIA agent when we knew each other in Russia in 1999, American expat in Russia Jason Smolek telling me the significance of May 29, 2009, the date of a Notre Dame-like mysterious fire on the roof of my home in Russia, JFK's birthday, and Egish Khachatrian telling me, "Rick we will make you into this generation's Lee Harvey Oswald.  We will get you and Obama too", I recalled an old Star Trek episode entitled 'Wink of an Eye'.

In this episode of that 1960s classic science fiction show, an advanced race appears on the Enterprise, but are so fast in all that they do, the crew doesn't perceive them as people, if they perceive them at all it is only a slight buzz that they hear.

In manner similar, my life as a targeted individual, preyed upon by CIA and their compatriots in other national 'security' services, or perhaps to use the term author Douglas Valentines wisely described in his book 'CIA as Organized Crime', 'security' mafias, offers a chance to understand how a likely highly classified active CIA operation works.  And it works in reverse to the aliens in the aforementioned episode of Star Trek, instead of being sped up, the actions of CIA are slowed down, spread across a lifetime.

If one considers that the CIA came hard at me beginning in my FSB sponsored poisoning in August 2011, the likely assisted death of my mother in September 2011, and my introduction, quite smoothly to MDPV, a stimulant, and MDMA, an empathogen at the time of my mother's passing, the CIA and their underlings at FBI had gone to great lengths to make me take the decision to abandon my family that fall and to have remained in the US, to have formed a sort of bizarre domestic partnership with the man, a friend of Silk Road drug dealing Adam Stanhope, Mark Brady, of Iron River, Wisconsin, then on the lam in Pembroke, MA who introduced me to MDMA, and with whom I under that influence 'enjoyed'' a night of dressing up in women's clothing and having gay sex, all drug fueled.  As Mark told me in the morning, 4 out of 5 men does with that much MDMA would have done as you did.  I don't regret the evening, it was fun, though I prefer women and have no need of narcotics in order to have interest in such activities if to compare to having sex with males.  And in retrospect, that experience like a number of other was key to me unwinding the mystery that is my life, the life of a man targeted from birth.

I learned that all these lone gunmen, terrorist sorts are manufactured, that is to say they are made by our security forces in order to frighten the population and to give increasing power and budgets to those so employed.  Ole Dammegard, a Dane living in Spain, has done excellent work in this area.  I strongly recommend viewing his YouTube videos on alse flag terror events.

I recall that fall of 2011, Adam Stanhope on the phone with me passionately asking me to stay in Massachusetts and to miss my flight back to family, back to Russia.  And I admit I had thought it over for such were the power of those narcotics, the pleasures unleashed.  I also recall feeling something akin to deception on both Adams' and Marks' parts, though I wrote it off.  Later I wouldn't.  Later I would pay attention to deception from so many gangstalkers.

It wasn't until October 2013, over 2 years later that I would return to the US, there to be met at the airport by Adam Stanhope who by then and developed a riveting though illegal business as a Silk Road vendor of narcotics under the name NAWLINS.  HE had pride in being at that time the leading vendor of now illegal MDPV.  It had been legal when I sampled it in 2011.

I was met with deception after deception, at Adam's, then visiting my younger brother John Macy at his apartment in Portland Maine, spending the winter at Chuck Jensen's further north in Levant, Maine, down to Virginia Beach, as guest of corrupt NCIS agent Douglas Boyce in the spring of 2014, and then later renting a room at 3205 Sandfiddler Road, Virginia Beach from gangstalker Shari Faller.  It was only in 2014, lied to by NCIS special agent Douglas Boyce, pursued by unmarked cars of FBI that I would be able to connect the dots of events in my life (Anna Chapman, etc) to understand that I had been targeted, that lone shooters are manufactured by CIA/FBI, and that they do this in manner long term, as deniability is chief amongst their operational goals.  Wouldn't do them much good, if the world knew what they are up to , as I learned.  And so my comparison to the aliens in that Star Trek episode of long ago has merit, weight, but our aliens, our CIA, moves slowly, so slowly as to be imperceptible, unniticed, while we get along with the daily, weekly, and monthly events of our lives most human.

Scotsman and likely MI6 agent, Adrian Terris, with whom I have a relationship of over 20 years, bore this out when he knowingly bragged to me how those in the security forces are willing, even tasked to take decades, even generations on plots of import.  And the killing of America's first black president was to have been one of those events most despicable.  Adrian cited as proof of this approach when European Knights Templar in the Middle Ages descended upon the Middle East, and there under the cover of good will of a sort, had spent decades tunneling under Muslim defenses.  Their intent horrific and full of murder, while on the surface, appearing calm, likely even smiling.

Another example that demonstrates the long term aspects of this CIA program uncovered.  They want targets to be conditioned, sensitized to certain stimuli.  In my case, police.  They wanted for me upon contact with police for me to become fearful, so that the rationale part of my brain shuts down and as a result I would take less appropriate decisions.

Back in 2000 in Russia, a Dutchman, Stephan Grootenboer,  who unless I miss my guess, is amongst those described in a Skype call with my Russia then exwife Svetlana.  Svetlana smiling asked me 'Rick didn't you know that 80% of your expat friends in Russia were actually intelligence agents?'  Stephan now running about in Moscow, was then employed by the now defunct English language newspaper, The Saint Petersburg Times in some capacity.  I was employed then at a majority American owned Russian phone company, and we advertised in that newspaper.  And so to Stephan I was the client, and as such he invited me to join him at a hockey game at the newly built Ice Palace stadium in Saint Petersburg, Russia.  I accepted, and having been the sales man usually and not the customer, I admit I enjoyed my role as being the one invited out, and not the inviter.

We got to the event, had some beers, Stephan was cordial enough.  Then as he was speaking with one of the organizers, an older European male of some sort, this fellow advised Stephan that his tickets were for the day prior and that we must accordingly leave. Stephan feigned embarrasment, and we left.  I didn't think much of it until years later.  We agreed we would grab a cab and make our way back to the city center and visit one bar or another.  I was in mood most amicable and agreed.  I had not a whit of suspicion about me, for this was 2000, long before the nefarious events that came on strong from 2011 (poisoning, death of my mother, honeypot trap Evgeniya Kosheleva, divorce, fraudulent death threats and more).  As we had imbibed beer, we needed to relieve ourselves.  We were outside the stadium which was then newly constructed and there was only a tremendous dirt parking lot stretching nearly as far as the eye could see.  And so in such environs, we made our way behind a car to relieve ourselves.  We did.  And as we finished, two Russian policemen set upon us in manner threatening.  They made clear that they might push our faces into the puddle of urine just created, though in the end let us on our way.

In 2014, as house guest of fraudster Douglas and his wife Elena Boyce, Lena invited me to join her and her two young children Alexander and Maria on an journey to the nearby beach.  I agreed.

As soon as we set out, Lena with children in tow, made her way up a sand dune, through the sea grass, in clear violation of the well posted signs forbidding access in this beach front protected area.  I was chagrined but as guest, just as with Stephan Grootenboer, 14 years prior, kept my mouth shut.  And then as if on call, a police cruiser appeared from no where, a burly officer stepped out and admonished us Lena for her escapade.  I had remained out of the sea grass and had obeyed the posted instructions.  I recall my feelings, being nervous, being unsettled by the cop.  I had wondered why a bright woman with such good English had so clearly disobeyed the posted signage.

In retrospect, I see Lena's deception for what it was, and can correlate that event with the one earlier, and a few that occurred after later in 2014 and again in 2015, 2016.

Now when I see cops, I see them for what they are, and have stripped away the overlays programmed by a lifetime of TV, and these events aforementioned.  Have you ever wondered why there are so many TV shows in America that feature the police and other actors employed by our corrupt 'criminal justice system'?

Ladies and gentlemen, the fix is in.  Take the red pill.  I did.  And while the ride down the rabbit hole is frightening, reality does ultimately impose it's will, and it's best to be prepared.  I found out.  You can too.  Let me be the cautionary tale.  Open your eyes.