Did ex-CIA, current NCIS agent Doug Boyce Plot to Kill Obama in 2014?
Meet ex-CIA, current NCIS special agent Douglas Boyce!
Unless I miss my guess, Doug conspired to assassinate Obama in 2014 or earlier with me in the costarring role of 'patsy'. Long story...
Doug is honestly a talented and amazing guy. His moral compass I'll not comment upon here. I will say he voiced to me his admiration for Afghani warlords who decided who in their tribes would live and who would die. I pulled back hearing this, I confess.
In many ways I understand Doug, in others I don't and perhaps don't want to.
The levels of deception and ultimately depravity to which him and his formerly Russian wife (Elena gave up her Russian passport and therefore citizenship so as not to hinder Douglas' mad climb within the American security apparatus, though no doubt she remains Russian to her core) would stoop to, seem to me out of reach. Maybe it was just a question of opportunity. I hope not. Were our roles reversed would I take the decisions he has taken? Sometimes, I indulge myself and wonder.
Doug and I had met in Russia in 1999. I admired him then. He was then unknown to me CIA. This he told me in 2014 in his lovely Virginia Beach home, where for some weeks I was his houseguest.
Now I still admire his abilities, though not so much the man, as I know too much, more than I want to know about him.
We served together on the American Chamber of Commerce of Saint Petersburg, Russia in 2000.
His day job was running the famous Lomonosov Porcelain Factory, and I worked in a 71% American owned Russian phone company called PeterStar Telecommunications.
As described above, in 2014 in his basement, Doug admitted to me that back then, in those days, he had been an American spy in Russia. C effing IA. CIA. Great.
Over time I would conclude that others whom I had met and earlier admired in Russia among those expats were similarly employed, Dave Eggers, J. Christian Moore, Matt Igel, Steve Gardner, Christian Courbois, Jim Beatty, Steve Wayne, and others.
And their attentions towards me, their friendships, all false and that I was a target. I was the fool. And for a time it stung. Not now. Over it.
As retired Anglican priest residing in Tallinn, Estonia, Stiiv Knowers, would tell me indirectly, in early 2017, as he told me directly, that The Lord loves most that which he creates, a reference to how my life was molded by these sorts of folk in our esteemed security services. Stiiv Knowers likley MI6. And so it goes.
I can say I've learned a lot, more than I ever expected.
Compartmentalization for one.
That I am and always have been a manchurian candidate, programmed using advanced MK ultra psy ops techniques.
Let's dig in to that a bit as I dissect for you this failed 2014 presidential assassination plot from the point of view of the man who was to have been in the role of 'patsy'.
But first a memory, a snapshot, two.
April 1984, I was in US Navy bootcamp in Orlando Florida. Recruit Training Center they called it. I would be made 'honor recruit' at the end of those eight weeks in the sun. And I remember about a week, maybe two into the program finding about 3/4s of a large marijuana cigarette in my wallet.
I had smoked pot throughout high school and had quit 30 days prior to entering the service, wanting to become a man, and wanted a clear mind with which to become that man.
I wondered how it had gotten there. When I had smoked marijuana I never put half smoked joints, roaches, in my wallet. How on earth did this get in my wallet? My 19 year old mind assumed it must have been mine for any other conclusion would be far fetched. Now with the gift, of time, knowledge, and experience, knowing I am now and have been targeted for years, perhaps since birth I can conclude and believe my conclusion accurate that our dear security services had placed it there as part of their attempt to mold me this way and that.
I threw it away. My head was shaved and I had signed a six year commitment to the US Navy. And I was made company yeoman and as stated above, honor recruit.
Another memory. We fast forward through time to September 2011.
A modern hospital in Wellesley, MA.
My mother lay in an intensive care unit (ICU), her breathing assisted by a machine, her condition of COPD requiring that 100% oxygen be provided by a mask.
Her condition had worsened during this hospital stay from an unexpected C-dif infection. She had as a result been in much pain those last days. The next step would have been a tube.
We, my siblings and I, decided she should not endure that step and would honor her wishes not to be kept alive by machines. We instructed the nurse to remove the oxygen feed. The nurse in turn informed us of what to expect, how this would go, our mother's leaving this life.
The nurse was accurate and in four hours, my mother, our mother passed away, with me holding her hand as she went cold. My siblings had chosen to sit by her feet, heads down turned. My half sister who had lived with us for a time in my childhood held her other hand those four hours.
Her death. The joint in my wallet. If my interpretation of events in my life associated with this failed presidential assassination attempt about which I post ad naseum I wonder who put the joint in my wallet, and far darker, did someone ensure my mother was infected in the ICU with C-dif? This done so as to keep to schedule for Obama only had so much time in office, and they intended to turn me into a presidential assassination patsy via psy ops, this captured quite fully in my mother's passing, narcotics, so as to keep me off balance, and sex so as to be able to paint me as a pervert.
A lot of attention was put i to this program, my program.
Dark thoughts, one worse than the other by orders of magnitude. For to have planted that joint, for have infected my mother, these actions criminal.
Obama would only be in office so long. And Adam Stanhope, with the help of Iron River, Wisconsin resident Mark Brady had tried in September of 2011 to keep me in America by introducing to me so innocuously certain narcotics, one then legal, MDPV one then not, MDMA. Both illegal today.
I recall the temptation.
Unhappy marriage.
Mother dead. I had wailed.
Should I have stayed as Adam desperately attempted to persuade me, I wonder how that adventure most horrific would have evolved.
I recall being suspicious of Adam Stanhope, of Mark Brady, but discounting those feelings. I had no idea they were being run by some FBI black ops boys.
I got back on the plane and returned home to my wife and son in Russia.
The plot simmering, bubbling all the while.
A divorce, most dramatic, unpleasant and ultimately planned awaited me and a fraudulent death threat. Those were some years I can tell you from 2011 to 2014 especially.
Earlier I had been invited a few times to appear on Russian TV.
I later understood that those appearances much like the mysterious May 29, 2009 (I learned in 2014 this was JFK's birthday.
That gem told me unasked by likely CIA agent Jason Smolek, an American I had met in Russia in the 2000s) Notre Dame-like roof fire at our home in Russia on Kamennoostrovskiy Prospekt 35 in Saint Petersburg had been planned so as to help fulfil a dishonest narrative that would have been used to mindf*** a generation.
The narrative?
Successful American in Russia loses the plot as a result of a failed business venture after successful ones, a failed marriage, the death of his mother, more than a little sex (yes, sex, and lots of it - we'll have to dive into that at some point) spiced with the augmentation of proferred narcotics by unscrupulous actors like Adam Stanhope, Mark Brady, August Meyer and Albina Taptiga.
A saucy tale to be sure.
All brought to you by folk like CIA Doug Boyce and worse.
And the genius of our security forces at the darker higher levels, is having manipulated me or to put it less dramatically, having assisted me on my path, especially as regards sex and drugs, they could then use their surveillance of me in Russia and the US to create a file to be used by the lower police levels, not knowing of the antics of their higher up, more secretive coworkers to justify warrants, surveillance of me by the FBI.
This would justify their investment. So dark. So very dark.
I wonder had they calculated my willingness to use self as bait upon leaving Virginia? Getting to Victor, NY and from there to Denver, all the while learning I was under corrupt FBI surveillance.
Funny stories those. Well, not really, but got to stay optimistic and look at it all glass half full.
Doug Boyce knew about these things. Took pleasure in them unless I miss my guess.
In any case. I know. I lived it. I think that's enough for this evening. Stay tuned. I know you will. ))
NCIS agent Douglas Boyce, 313 Sage Road, Virginia Beach VA
Unless I miss my guess, Doug conspired to assassinate Obama in 2014 or earlier with me in the costarring role of 'patsy'. Long story...
Doug is honestly a talented and amazing guy. His moral compass I'll not comment upon here. I will say he voiced to me his admiration for Afghani warlords who decided who in their tribes would live and who would die. I pulled back hearing this, I confess.
In many ways I understand Doug, in others I don't and perhaps don't want to.
The levels of deception and ultimately depravity to which him and his formerly Russian wife (Elena gave up her Russian passport and therefore citizenship so as not to hinder Douglas' mad climb within the American security apparatus, though no doubt she remains Russian to her core) would stoop to, seem to me out of reach. Maybe it was just a question of opportunity. I hope not. Were our roles reversed would I take the decisions he has taken? Sometimes, I indulge myself and wonder.
Doug and I had met in Russia in 1999. I admired him then. He was then unknown to me CIA. This he told me in 2014 in his lovely Virginia Beach home, where for some weeks I was his houseguest.
Now I still admire his abilities, though not so much the man, as I know too much, more than I want to know about him.
We served together on the American Chamber of Commerce of Saint Petersburg, Russia in 2000.
His day job was running the famous Lomonosov Porcelain Factory, and I worked in a 71% American owned Russian phone company called PeterStar Telecommunications.
As described above, in 2014 in his basement, Doug admitted to me that back then, in those days, he had been an American spy in Russia. C effing IA. CIA. Great.
Over time I would conclude that others whom I had met and earlier admired in Russia among those expats were similarly employed, Dave Eggers, J. Christian Moore, Matt Igel, Steve Gardner, Christian Courbois, Jim Beatty, Steve Wayne, and others.
And their attentions towards me, their friendships, all false and that I was a target. I was the fool. And for a time it stung. Not now. Over it.
As retired Anglican priest residing in Tallinn, Estonia, Stiiv Knowers, would tell me indirectly, in early 2017, as he told me directly, that The Lord loves most that which he creates, a reference to how my life was molded by these sorts of folk in our esteemed security services. Stiiv Knowers likley MI6. And so it goes.
I can say I've learned a lot, more than I ever expected.
Compartmentalization for one.
That I am and always have been a manchurian candidate, programmed using advanced MK ultra psy ops techniques.
Let's dig in to that a bit as I dissect for you this failed 2014 presidential assassination plot from the point of view of the man who was to have been in the role of 'patsy'.
But first a memory, a snapshot, two.
April 1984, I was in US Navy bootcamp in Orlando Florida. Recruit Training Center they called it. I would be made 'honor recruit' at the end of those eight weeks in the sun. And I remember about a week, maybe two into the program finding about 3/4s of a large marijuana cigarette in my wallet.
I had smoked pot throughout high school and had quit 30 days prior to entering the service, wanting to become a man, and wanted a clear mind with which to become that man.
I wondered how it had gotten there. When I had smoked marijuana I never put half smoked joints, roaches, in my wallet. How on earth did this get in my wallet? My 19 year old mind assumed it must have been mine for any other conclusion would be far fetched. Now with the gift, of time, knowledge, and experience, knowing I am now and have been targeted for years, perhaps since birth I can conclude and believe my conclusion accurate that our dear security services had placed it there as part of their attempt to mold me this way and that.
I threw it away. My head was shaved and I had signed a six year commitment to the US Navy. And I was made company yeoman and as stated above, honor recruit.
Another memory. We fast forward through time to September 2011.
A modern hospital in Wellesley, MA.
My mother lay in an intensive care unit (ICU), her breathing assisted by a machine, her condition of COPD requiring that 100% oxygen be provided by a mask.
Her condition had worsened during this hospital stay from an unexpected C-dif infection. She had as a result been in much pain those last days. The next step would have been a tube.
We, my siblings and I, decided she should not endure that step and would honor her wishes not to be kept alive by machines. We instructed the nurse to remove the oxygen feed. The nurse in turn informed us of what to expect, how this would go, our mother's leaving this life.
The nurse was accurate and in four hours, my mother, our mother passed away, with me holding her hand as she went cold. My siblings had chosen to sit by her feet, heads down turned. My half sister who had lived with us for a time in my childhood held her other hand those four hours.
Her death. The joint in my wallet. If my interpretation of events in my life associated with this failed presidential assassination attempt about which I post ad naseum I wonder who put the joint in my wallet, and far darker, did someone ensure my mother was infected in the ICU with C-dif? This done so as to keep to schedule for Obama only had so much time in office, and they intended to turn me into a presidential assassination patsy via psy ops, this captured quite fully in my mother's passing, narcotics, so as to keep me off balance, and sex so as to be able to paint me as a pervert.
A lot of attention was put i to this program, my program.
Dark thoughts, one worse than the other by orders of magnitude. For to have planted that joint, for have infected my mother, these actions criminal.
Obama would only be in office so long. And Adam Stanhope, with the help of Iron River, Wisconsin resident Mark Brady had tried in September of 2011 to keep me in America by introducing to me so innocuously certain narcotics, one then legal, MDPV one then not, MDMA. Both illegal today.
I recall the temptation.
Unhappy marriage.
Mother dead. I had wailed.
Should I have stayed as Adam desperately attempted to persuade me, I wonder how that adventure most horrific would have evolved.
I recall being suspicious of Adam Stanhope, of Mark Brady, but discounting those feelings. I had no idea they were being run by some FBI black ops boys.
I got back on the plane and returned home to my wife and son in Russia.
The plot simmering, bubbling all the while.
A divorce, most dramatic, unpleasant and ultimately planned awaited me and a fraudulent death threat. Those were some years I can tell you from 2011 to 2014 especially.
Earlier I had been invited a few times to appear on Russian TV.
I later understood that those appearances much like the mysterious May 29, 2009 (I learned in 2014 this was JFK's birthday.
That gem told me unasked by likely CIA agent Jason Smolek, an American I had met in Russia in the 2000s) Notre Dame-like roof fire at our home in Russia on Kamennoostrovskiy Prospekt 35 in Saint Petersburg had been planned so as to help fulfil a dishonest narrative that would have been used to mindf*** a generation.
The narrative?
Successful American in Russia loses the plot as a result of a failed business venture after successful ones, a failed marriage, the death of his mother, more than a little sex (yes, sex, and lots of it - we'll have to dive into that at some point) spiced with the augmentation of proferred narcotics by unscrupulous actors like Adam Stanhope, Mark Brady, August Meyer and Albina Taptiga.
A saucy tale to be sure.
All brought to you by folk like CIA Doug Boyce and worse.
And the genius of our security forces at the darker higher levels, is having manipulated me or to put it less dramatically, having assisted me on my path, especially as regards sex and drugs, they could then use their surveillance of me in Russia and the US to create a file to be used by the lower police levels, not knowing of the antics of their higher up, more secretive coworkers to justify warrants, surveillance of me by the FBI.
This would justify their investment. So dark. So very dark.
I wonder had they calculated my willingness to use self as bait upon leaving Virginia? Getting to Victor, NY and from there to Denver, all the while learning I was under corrupt FBI surveillance.
Funny stories those. Well, not really, but got to stay optimistic and look at it all glass half full.
Doug Boyce knew about these things. Took pleasure in them unless I miss my guess.
In any case. I know. I lived it. I think that's enough for this evening. Stay tuned. I know you will. ))
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