U.S. Prison System
Torture, Attempted Murder,
Cruel and Abusive Treatment
Edward
October 4, 2007. I was detained at Lebanon
Police Department until around midnight, then loaded into a van and
driven to Wyatt Detention Center in Central Falls, R.I., arriving
around 2:30am the morning of October 5. I was booked in, I would
not sign any of the paperwork, and never have to this day. They
placed me in cell #18 of the SHU (segregated housing unit), on the
second level. It was very cold, with the wind coming through,
about 50-55 degrees. The water was highly chlorinated, and I only
had thin cotton clothing on with a thin blanket to cover.
That night and the following day were uneventful
until approximately 7pm. I was standing at the window thinking
about my wife when I began to smell an acrid odor coming into the
room. I realized it was coming from the circulation vent; it
started stinging my skin, choking me, burning my eyes. There was
a button on the wall with a speaker; I pressed it, no one
answered. The fumes were increasing; I pressed the button several
more times, still no one answered, and I thought that it might be
broken. I was beginning to get panicky, the burning sensation was
increasing, my skin was getting red, it was getting harder to breathe,
my eyes were watering. I grabbed the blanket from the bed to cover
myself, and began pounding on the door and yelling; that wasn’t
working; no one came.
I looked around really fast to see where I could
find air to breathe, and the only space I could see was at the bottom
of the door, a small space about ½ to 1 inch. I looked
around the room and noticed a piece of paper on the little metal
desk. I grabbed it, quickly rolled it into a cone shape, shoved
it under the door, and began breathing through that to get fresh air
from the room outside. I kept banging on the door from time to
time; I truly believed I was going to die. I couldn’t understand
why no one was coming.
After a while I stopped banging on the door; no
one was coming. So I stayed on the floor quietly, just
concentrating on breathing. This went on for about five
hours. Sometime around midnight, as I checked periodically, I
realized the air was clearing. After a bit I got up, exhausted,
and retired to the steel platform with blue plastic pad and went to
sleep.
The following morning, when the guard came with
chow, I told him what happened the previous night, but he did not
reply. I noticed no one spoke to me while I was in this
room. Occasionally someone would look in the little window in the
door, but no one spoke. The rest of the day was uneventful until
around 7pm again.
Gas began flowing into the cell the second night,
October 6, Saturday. This time I immediately grabbed the paper
which I saved, and the blanket, pressed the button several times,
covered myself, dropped to the floor by the door, and began breathing
through the paper again. Periodically I pounded on the door
again, no one came, no one spoke. Nothing coming into the room
but this noxious burning gas, and a cold, cold breeze. The
concrete floor was also very cold. However, I noticed through the
breathing tube I had made with the paper, that I was breathing warm air
from the other room. This continued until sometime between 10 and
11pm, when I heard voices and footsteps approaching the door. I
looked up at the window, one of the guards was standing at the window;
he appeared to be in his mid-thirties. He just stood there for a
few seconds, just staring in at me. I was trying to tell him
there was gas coming into the room, he remained silent. Finally
he started to walk away, singing out, “You shoulda paid your
taxes.” This made me realize that someone from the government was
trying to kill me.
I started praying that they weren’t doing the same
thing to my wife. The anguish of that thought carries on with me
to this day, because I took a position of demanding an answer to a tax
question, and for demanding that answer the government decides to
eliminate us; I have to blame myself for putting her in this dangerous
situation. In my wildest dreams I could never believe that our
government, that I was trying to protect, as a United States
Constitution Ranger, would turn on us with such evil for their own
personal enrichment.
After the officers left I began to realize that
either the U.S. Marshals or the U.S. Attorney’s office gave the orders
to do this; they would not have done this on their own. As I was
lying on the floor, I had much to think about, life and death, meeting
God. I couldn’t believe my life was going to end this way.
After a while, I must have fallen asleep, because I woke up around 3am,
the gas seemed to have dissipated. I got up and went to bed.
Sunday morning, October 7, called chow early,
air-conditioning still very cold, could almost see your breath.
7am, gas started coming through the register again; I could immediately
identify it, having worked around swimming pools for a long time.
It was chlorine. Again the burning sensation, I couldn’t breathe,
I again grabbed my rolled-up paper, my blanket, banging on the door as
I dropped to the floor. This time it lasted for only about three
hours. I got up, thirsty from dehydration, poured some water into
the empty milk container, put it to my mouth to take a drink, and on
contact my lips began to burn, blisters came out around my mouth.
Thank God I didn’t swallow any of it. At this time, I plugged up
the vent with toothpaste as best I could, but the cold still came in.
The only way I could drink any of the water, I
found, over the next several days, was to shake the water in a
container and let it gas off over a twenty-four hour period. Even
then it was only barely palpable. Over the next three days, until
the following Wednesday, there were no further gas attacks, and the
water cleared up to a barely drinkable condition.
During that three days there was no conversation
from anyone, never a reply to a question or statement, just cold
isolation, until mid-morning on Wednesday, October 10, when the U.S.
Marshals came in. They shackled and handcuffed and black-boxed
me, took me to a small airport close by, placed me on a Lear jet with
pilot, co-pilot, and four marshals. As we were flying to Ohio, I
had thoughts of being thrown out of the plane. When I was
returned to New England, I was also flown on a small jet, alone with
only four marshals, pilot and co-pilot. I seemed odd to me that a
non-violent prisoner would be transported in this extremely expensive
manner. ?????????
When we arrived at Ohio airport, there were six
vehicles, six pairs of men, with shotguns and automatic weapons, which
made me think I was someone like Hannibal Lecter. The U.S. Marshals
Service formed a caravan of vehicles and drove me for about one hour to
Elkton Ohio low-security facility, but I was targeted for the high-max
SHU there.
Upon entering the building at R&D (receiving
and discharge), I was strip searched again. Each time I entered or left
a facility, I was strip searched, bent over, spread the cheeks of my
buttocks, lift the testicles, lift the feet, open the mouth, spread the
arms to the side.
A photograph was taken after they made sure that I
was disheveled and made to look like a criminal from a concentration
camp or a drunk. This is standard operating procedure for all
prison inmates. I was then removed to a very cold windy holding
cell and left there for approximately five hours. They came for
me around 5pm, took me to medical where I was given a TB test, stating
it was mandatory. Next I was taken to a psychiatrist (or
psychologist, I don’t know which), Dr. LeFebre. Speaking with her
was the first kind voice I heard in nearly a week, and the first
individual I spoke with in that period of time. I was in shock,
exceedingly cold, exhausted, hungry, very thirsty, and very concerned
about my wife; and in that small warm room with an attractive,
seemingly kind lady, I broke and began to cry for about a minute.
I composed myself and apologized to her for getting upset. She
didn’t seem to care one way or the other.
Then I was taken from that room and introduced to
Lieutenant T. Montgomery, who was the SHU lieutenant. I did not
know what a SHU was at the time. It turns out it was a high
security fogged-over window isolation cell. Mr. Montgomery had me
delivered to his office in shackles and cuffs where he asked me if I
was alright. I explained to him that I had had an assault on my life at
the Rhode Island facility. He asked me if I wanted to file a
complaint. I said I did. He had me write it out, which took
me about a half hour. After I had filled it out, he said it was a
BP8 form, and he would submit it for me, assuring me I would hear a
reply about it in a few days, as someone would investigate it for
me. No one ever did.
From there I was placed into another cold holding
room for about half an hour. I saw a Dr. Clifford, the head
psychologist, with Dr. LeFebre, the SHU lieutenant, T. Montgomery
standing outside the holding room. They then came for me, took me
down the hallway into another section that appeared to be some kind of
a secluded medical facility, very scary. There was a room at the
end of the hall with all-plexi-glass door and walls. I was placed
in this room, and as I looked around, I saw that it only had a single
steel-framed cot with no mattress. Directly overhead that at
about nine feet was an exceedingly bright fluorescent strip light that
had an air-conditioning unit at its base attached to the ceiling that
blew out very cold breeze in two directions where the breeze bounced
off the walls approximately eleven feet wide, then swirled underneath
the steel-framed bunk. In other words, there was no escape from
the breeze or the cold air. As I stood there for a couple of
minutes, I was ordered to remove all my clothes. As I stood there
naked, in the cold, for a few minutes I was handed in a very stiff
horse blanket that you could not wrap around yourself properly to keep
warm. They then placed a man outside the cell to watch me.
I asked him what they were doing this for, and Dr. Clifford said it was
because they were a little concerned that I might be suicidal. I
said to Dr. Clifford, “I am cold, tired, hungry, in shock, very
thirsty, and very concerned about my wife. Dr., you don’t seem to know
the difference between someone who is sad and abused, versus someone
who would be suicidal.”
I then continued with him, and said, “From my
understanding of a suicidal, you would place them in a comfortable warm
room to rest or relax in, and to be kind enough to try to find out what
is wrong with them and to find out what their problem is. You would
never place them in a torture room.” My own thoughts were that I
knew this room was designed only for punishment and torture, and these
rooms must be removed from the prison facilities everywhere.
I understand that this past idiot president,
George Bush, ‘Jr.’ actually approved these torture methods against
inmates, Americans, in the prison system, not only in Guantanamo, but
far worse in the United States prison system, by orders of the U.S.
Attorney’s office/Department of Justice.
For the next fifteen hours or so, until around 9am
the following day, I was awake, telling jokes to the two men who came
to observe me through the glass, talking about different things, just
to keep us both awake; they responded a little. During this time,
they were eating and drinking, while I had nothing. At about 9 A.
M. , the SHU captain came in, came up to me as I stood by the door,
stared down at me as I stood there naked wrapped in the horse blanket,
bent over close to my face, put his right finger on his right temple,
stared straight into my eyes, and said, “You got to get your mind
right.” He held that position for about ten to fifteen seconds,
angrily staring into my eyes; then he said as he shook his head, “You
don’t know what I’m talking about, do you.” I replied, “No, I
don’t.” But I did. He wanted me somehow, to comply with his
or “their” philosophy. He then turned abruptly and stormed out of
that unit, and left.
Dr. Clifford was there, and hesitated about
removing me from this room, then seemed to make up his mind, had me
dressed, removed and sent to a high max isolation unit in the
SHU. This began an entire new level of cruel tortuous abuse,
which I am certain is done all over the prison system to many
inmates. I was later to learn that political prisoners, those who
would question government, were abused far more than the average
inmate, even more so than those that committed murder.
I was first placed in a windowless cell at the end
of the corridor down in the basement that was absolutely decrepit and
dirty and very, very cold. I had a one of the stiff horse
blankets. I was in there until the following day; during this
time there was no conversation, they were deliberately avoiding
communication. Now I was moved to an upper level high-max
isolation unit, still very cold, breeze blowing. This began a
more than two-month total isolation, twenty-four/seven lock-down.
They did offer me one hour a day rec after about two weeks. I
asked them what ‘rec’ meant. “Rec” to me meant “wreck.” It
was so cold out, and I was in a pair of orange 4X pajamas, I would
freeze to death going out there. So I declined. His reply
was “it means recreation”, to which I replied, “Re-creation? What
are you re-creating out there that would make me want to go out and
freeze?” He shrugged his shoulders and left.
From the very first day, the orders to these
people were clear to me that there would be no communication from these
guards with me, and there wasn’t. There was a daily walk-by by
medical to give me my high blood pressure pill, and an 81mg aspirin (a
regular aspirin is 325mg.). Outside of that we had a clothes
change twice a week, when I was asked what size I wanted, I would tell
them medium, and they would yell out to the other guy, give him a
4X. After several weeks when they asked me what size, I would
tell them to go to hell, and give me whatever. They began to give
me smaller sizes; by the end of five weeks I was getting 2X then 1X.
Also, from day one, the very first night as other
inmates were cleaning the halls, I heard the conversation go something
like this: “This guy in this cell is a Ranger. Rangers ain’t
nothin’. The idiot shoulda paid his taxes”. The door would
be kicked a couple of times. This went on for several nights,
then it ended. All of this was new to me. All of this was
brand new to me. Every experience. I had never had happen to me in my
life before, and I was always with someone being antagonistic toward
me, with crass statements, rough handling from the marshals with the
shackles and cuffs being too tight to the point where I now have
permanent nerve damage in both hands. The nerve damage to my feet
has cleared up, because I found a way to roll up the manacles inside
the cuffs of my pants.
As I would lie there at night, I would hear all
these strange sounds of people yelling back and forth to each other,
moaning and crying from some, but mostly at night after 11, it got
quiet and sleep would come, although the bright lights were always left
on, and the cold windy air. We discovered that the cold breeze
was to keep us under our blanket to try to keep warm. Cold seems
to be universal in the entire prison system to punish, because the BOP
(Bureau of Prisons) keeps you cold, keeps you quiet, trying to stay
warm. I believe one of the men I heard crying and yelling is a
man in his late 50’s to mid 60’s. The second week I was there, I
believe he died. I heard the CO’s come in at night, open his
door, and remove him.
For the first two weeks in Elkton I was not given
any toilet paper, so I used my hand and washed each time. I was
given no toiletries of any kind, including soap, for two weeks.
After two weeks, out of desperation, I asked for toiletries. They
then gave me a set. No one informed me that I had to ask for
things to get anything. This is part of their psychological
conditioning in the BOP. You must understand the reason I did not
ask. This was all new to me. Attempted murder and torture
had already been going on since I was first kidnapped on October
4. I was fearful to talk to anybody about anything for fear of
further abuse or death. I have always learned in my life, when
danger is present, stay quiet, if the danger is seeking you out.
Until you understand the rules of the game, you do not have any
leverage. Slowly I began to understand the rules; I’m somewhat of
a slow learner.
As this writing continues, you will notice that
the BOP staff is trained to have no heart, no consideration for
benevolence toward any inmate. The staff is conditioned to be
hard, neutral, indifferent (indifference is the lowest form of
contempt). These men and women in the prison system are trained
in subtle continuous cruelty, and I feel that far too many of them
enjoy it too much. There are exceptions; the occasional kindness
shown by a few of the guards show that they are clearly men and women
of God. They are still firm, and they still will not take any
nonsense, but they are not abusive or cruel. You can sense the
empathy in them; these men and women are respected by the inmates, and
always follow their suggestions and orders without question. The
cruel ones get resisted.
Minutes seem like hours, hours seem like days,
days seem like weeks, weeks seem like months, months seem like years,
on and on and on, day after day after day, the same repetitious days.
Isolation is the cruelest form of punishments; there are many of them,
virtually hundreds if not thousands, from the smell of a flower, to the
sound of water, to the surf of the ocean, to the breeze through the
pines, to the sight of an insect on a leaf, a blade of grass, to the
touch or a word, a child’s voice, a birds song, on and on, ad infinitum.
The entire prison system is designed to break you,
to mold you, to get you to comply with their so-called new age new
world government. This is why political prisoners are abused more
than others. I’ll continue now.
As the days turn into weeks at Elkton, the
loneliness and isolation slowly begin to do its damage. My throat
had been damaged from the gassing in Rhode Island, so that my voice had
changed. So, as I was alone, one of the things I would do is sing
to myself, but with my damaged larynx, everything was coming out
hoarse. I can remember about the fifth week or so, having had no
conversation with anybody, I was trying to sing a song; I couldn’t
sing, and I noticed my voice was coming out like a dog howling; it was
the best sound I could get. As I was doing that, there was a
little click in my throat, and a higher note came out of me. I
played with it, and the words I used with it in my mind were
Yod-hey-vah-hey. As I repeated this for several hours, until
finally I had a rhythm going saying God’s name. Out of that came
an entire series of chants that I developed in prayer to God, which I
still work on to this day.
Not seeing anyone except the passing guards
briefly standing and staring in the little window, and the warden and
entourage coming through every Friday, laughing, joking and having a
grand old time just before they went home for the weekend, while we
suffered in these cold refrigerator-like gloomy cells was bad
enough. We could picture them going out for a grand meal or
recreation far different from what we are offered here. It’s
almost as if they were flaunting it in our faces; how could anyone be
so happy when surrounded by such sad, lonely, and injured, desperate
people?
The food at this facility was absolutely
disgusting. Now having been in half a dozen different facilities
in a year and a half, and as bad as the food is in the other
facilities, Elkton, Ohio facility at times actually served rotten
food. The smell could sometimes make you nauseous. The high
carbohydrate, starch, fat, sugared, salted, overcooked food stripped of
all food value. I lost a total of ten pounds in the first month
and leveled off at around 150 pounds, lost another five pounds the
second month. I have gained back the fifteen pounds to date.
The bunks were set in a two-man cell, but I was
always kept isolated with no cell-mate. The bunks were placed
directly in front of the frosted-over windows. The cold air
poured in from these cold steel-framed windows, directly over the
bunks. Through those two months the ice from the condensation on
the walls formed around the windows and ran down the walls to the
floor. The frozen air dropped directly onto the bunk. It
didn’t matter if you were on the upper or lower bunk. When I
attempted to keep it dry with towels in the window, the warden ordered
me to remove it with threat of further punishment. So I had to
live with 32 degree temperatures coming in the window. So now I
had cold air coming in through the window, along with the cold air
coming in from the ventilation system. When the sun was out it
would melt the ice around the window, which would run onto the
floor. When the sun went down, it would freeze again, creating a
freezing cold draft which was drop directly onto the bed. I would
put up towels to create a screen between the bed and the window to stop
the draft.
I was finally able, by about the sixth week, to
get a radio with commissary funds sent to me by friends. This was
a little help. One of the things I noticed after several days of
not being able to shower due to the cold and the fact that there was no
hot water in the shower (I sponge bathed every day from the toilet),
was a great deal of dust all over the floor, I finally figured out it
was my skin flaking off from the dehydration from the cold windy
air. I had to clean the cell every day. I used one of my
tee shirts as a rag for that purpose.
About the fourth or fifth day I was there, I had a
female CO (corrections officer) West gather me up and bring me to a
phone call. She said I had an attorney call coming in. I
told her I did not have an attorney. She said, “Well, you’ve got
one now.” I said, “We’ll see.” It turned out to be Shaun
Kranish, stating that he was in an attorney’s office, and that he was
making this call for her. I asked him why he brought that person
to our house in October. He said he did not know who the man was,
he thought it was just another patriot who wanted to help. I told
him I doubted it, but I would accept it for now. Shaun continued,
saying he wanted to know what was going on, that he had a recorder and
was going to record the conversation. I had no idea this was
against the rules of the BOP, to record anything. I had never
seen any rules. Shaun recorded the conversation and I told the
entire story of what happened in Rhode Island and up to that point in
Elkton. He did get the story out on the Internet. An
investigation was conducted on the record by SIS. The warden at
Wyatt stated it was “an industrial accident” to the newspaper.
Impossible three days in a row, at different times, with two
different kinds of gas.
I was returned to the cell, and the following day,
I was again brought out of the cell, and given a “shot” an
incident report, that stated that I had used the telephone unlawfully
because Shaun was not an attorney, and he recorded our
conversation. I ended up going before a DHO (discipline hearing
officer) and he gave me a shelved 180 day loss of phone. I
explained to him that I had no idea what it was all about; it was just
a normal phone call from Shaun. I told him if I knew it was
against the rules, I would not have done it, but I had never been given
an inmate’s manual. So, now I have been further punished for
something I did not do, and had no control over.
I was moved back to the cell, the isolation, and
during this time I was also never allowed visits, telephone calls of
any kind, or mail. All of this isolation went on for about two
months. The last day I was there forty-one pieces of mail were
delivered to me, in the evening. The following noontime, after I
had read about six letters, I was removed from Elkton, and separated
from my mail and everything else again. One further note I wish
to add, is, at the end of the first month I was told I could have a
phone call. They brought the phone down, put it through the
opening in the door, and when I began to dial, it was disconnected, and
the voice on the phone said, “You must have a PIN number to make a
call.” I only had one memorized phone number, and now I couldn’t
even use that. I was now told I must get a PIN number to use the
phone. I asked him why they didn’t tell me that to begin
with. The answer was, “It’s not my responsibility.” I did
receive a PIN number several days later, but was told that I had to
wait until the following month to make a phone call (only allowed one
call a month). So, the bottom line is, no phone call was ever
allowed to me.
A further note, Two days after the TB test I
received at Elkton, I broke out in small hive-like pimples that broke
easily and bled. They would dry up and slowly go away; but as
time went by, more and more would break out, as if it were in my
system. Over the past year and a half, I have been given
wide-spectrum antibiotics twice; they have failed to eliminate the
problem. I still have this problem today, and am anxious to have
a real doctor examine me properly.
Some time in late November or early December, I
was removed from Elkton, loaded on to an airplane, along with over a
hundred others, and flown to Oklahoma Transfer Center. The stay
at Oklahoma is usually about two weeks; I and one other were there for
fifty-two days. From there I was taken to Fairton, New Jersey,
and placed into general population, in early January, 2008.
The first thing I noticed while I was there was
the noise. From the time you get up in the morning (5:30 or so), until
the time of 10:00 lock-down at night, there is a crescendo of noise
that is almost overwhelming. Most of the inmates at this facility
were from D.C. The population consisted of approximately 80%
blacks, 15% Hispanic, and 5% white. Most of the men were young,
gang-oriented, on drug related charges. After hearing many of
their cases, I began to realize that more than half of these young men
should never be in prison.
The punishment continues here at Fairton FCI
(Federal Correctional Institution), in a different manner, though no
less abusive. Everything was uneventful for the first few weeks,
and I still had not had an inmate handbook, so I still did not know or
understand the rules. I was able to use the telephone at this
time, so when I called a friend of mine one day, and he asked me if I
wanted to hear a recording of a phone call of my wife, I said I did. He
asked if I would get in trouble for listening, I replied why would I
get in trouble it’s just a recording I am listening to. I
didn’t care about their b.s. He then played the recording which
was pretty much my wife crying for about a minute, which just brought
me to tears. We talked for a few more minutes, then hung up. The
following day I received a shot from one of the counselors, which
consisted of 180 days loss of telephone and two weeks in the SHU, which
I received in a couple of weeks.
In the meantime, one of my cell mates told me his
father was dying of cancer, and wanted to get hold of his daughter to
ask her to please contact the dying father. He did not have any
telephone restrictions, but his commissary funds were tied up, so I
added his daughter’s telephone number to my phone list, and he called
her the following week. The next day after the call, I was called
into the counselor’s office again, and told I was getting another shot,
another 180 days loss of telephone now a year total with no
telephone calls, in or out - for allowing another inmate to use
my phone. Both shots were 200 series shots, which normally would
have been a slap on the hand. The shot series increase in
severity the lower the number 500 100. I was given an
inmate manual the following day. The manual has no mention of
forbidding recordings on the phone.
The next incident that I had was with my other
cell mate, who had picked up an infection inside his rectum.
After several days of trying to get medical treatment, which was
denied, the infection began to spread to the point where he could no
longer move his bowels. This was by Wednesday. I was
wheeling him back and forth to medical each day, and he was only able
to sit sideways in the wheelchair. On Thursday I was coming back
from the library just at noon chow when I noticed he was in the chair
with the warden, half a dozen medical people, SIS personnel around him,
as all 1500 inmates are coming and going from chow. I walked up
to him, and asked him what was going on, as everyone else was just
standing around. My old rescue squad EMT days were kicking in,
where you let the most qualified man take control of the
situation. Knowing his situation was serious, and no one seemed
to know what they were doing, I began to take charge. He told me
wheelchair was broken, and one of the PA’s (physician assistant) said
they were trying to get him to medical, but there were no other
wheelchairs available. They were trying to get him to walk
over. I asked them how they expected him to walk over to medical,
when he could barely ride in the wheelchair.
This man, at this point, was totally impacted from
the infection, and was not able to move his bowels at all. He was
jaundiced, and getting worse. I asked them why don’t they just
carry him there in the electric cart; there was no reply. I then
said then why doesn’t someone lance the problem; they said only a
doctor could do this, and there was none available. I told them
he had been like this since Sunday, and had been asking for help since
that day. This man is going to die if you do not get him the
proper care. I then told them that if they will get me a scalpel,
I will lance it myself, and clean it up. Their reply was we can’t
do that. I then got really angry and said well, someone had
damned well do something. About that time, a wheelchair was
brought across from medical; they got him into it and moved him off to
medical. I got a reprimand for that one. The following day,
Friday, the doctor came in, lanced the putrefied cyst in his anus, and
over the next several days he recovered.
It appears throughout the prison system there is
only the illusion of medical care there is no proper medical or
dental care. I cannot guess how many die each year in the prison
system due to neglect (currently here at Strafford County DOC in New
Hampshire, as I write this, my cell mate here had been complaining
about a pain in his head for over a month after he had received a blow
to the head; he almost died from negligence and misdiagnosis.
More explanation later).
Over the course of the next couple of months
things were not as abusive, with the exception of having no visitors
allowed, and my mail was restricted or lost, incoming and outgoing,
which goes on to this day.
In April I was placed into an unlawful eight-man
unit. This unit is in violation of all the laws regarding
incarceration, in the world. When I got out of the SHU the second
time, they placed me in another unit, and the counselor said he would
rather stick me outside in the snow than in a cell. Instead he
placed me in this eight-man cell that consisted of seven black Muslims,
I being a white Christian seemed rather odd. As it turned out, it
was more abusive treatment and punishment, for whatever reason.
The cell was about 24 feet by 12 feet, 8 feet high. There was no
air ventilation, and the air-conditioning unit did not work. The
only way to circulate air was with a fan. It had an average
temperature of 95 to 100 degrees twenty-four hours a day. There
was a roaring fan. I was given the bed right below the
air-conditioning unit which was about three feet above the bunk.
It was too close, and no one else would sleep in that bunk, so I slept
in a chair, which seemed to aggravate the counselors to no end.
You would have to be this kind of cell to appreciate it. We had
one toilet in the cell, for these eight men. Because of the men
in the cell, in order to keep the smell done, you would flush as you
defecated. I counted the number of flushes with one of the cell
mates who loved to irritate everybody else; he flushed the toilet
thirty-five times in one night. Most of the cellies would go
maybe once during the night with two or three flushes. That means
an average of sixty times a night. I became the token white guy in the
cell, and on the most part we got along. They promised me a
two-man cell like most of the inmates had, but it never came
about.
Many of the other inmates frequently asked me why
the prison personnel were treating me so badly all the time. I
told them I had no idea. They would tell me that they had done
far worse, and were not treated nearly so harshly. Every day it
would be something, from the warden, medical, the C.O.’s, counselors,
with no let up. I would ask them when the abuse was going to
stop. They would say they didn’t know what I was talking about,
or they would say you’ll have to ask the warden. The best I could
tell was that all the abuse was coming down from the U.S. attorney’s
office. I was told, even by some of the marshals, that the U.S.
Attorney’s office dictates what happens in the prisons. Thus, I
can only conclude that Mr. Thomas P. Colantuono, the U.S. Attorney in
New Hampshire, one of the individuals against whom we had filed tort
charges, is the one responsible for all of our anguish.
The heat in there was so bad, and the sickness
that kept passing back and forth among us was continuous. Most
mornings half of us would be sitting by the door breathing fresh air
through the little trap door.
Toward the end of June, while I had been working
on the UCC process for several months, which the prison staff didn’t
seem to like, I was told to send all my stuff to R&D.
I believed we were finally getting a break and we
were being released. Instead, after delivering my property to
R&D, I was ordered to the SHU where I remained for over a week. I
was then put on a bus alone at 4am and driven to Philadelphia where we
picked up 40 or 50 other inmates, and was flown to Oklahoma Transfer
Center. I was placed in maximum security lock-down 24/7 for over
two weeks, and then flown to Marion, Illinois Penitentiary.
At Marion I was placed in an 18-man high security
lock-down. BOP calls it a communication monitoring unit (CMU),
but in fact it is a high max isolation control unit that was designed
for mind control and human conditioning by Drs. Lieberman, Schein, and
B. F. Skinner in the mid-60’s for the federal prison systems when they
emptied out Alkatraz.
It seems odd to me that for asking a question of
an income tax issue, which seems rather benign, that I am being treated
with such abuse and high security. What is it they fear about
myself and my wife? I have asked many of them, no one will
answer. One exception at Elkton, Ohio a captain who said I had to
get my mind right, and a disciplinary hearing officer (DHO) who leaned
across his desk when I asked him why I was being treated so badly, and
said,, “Because you pissed off a lot of people, Mr. Brown.” Now
all I have to do I figure out who I p.o.’d off. I never realized
doing the right thing for one’s country was wrong.
The Marion facility is still conducting 90% of the
behavioral and conditioning methods of the above, which is now being
used in the prison system throughout country. The methods are so
restrictive that you are totally disallowed any way with which to help
yourself. All mail, visitors, telephone are denied except for
those the facility will allow. Of course, the facility works
directly with the U. S. Attorney’s office, who likes to keep their
“successful” cases in prison, particularly the ones that he knows are
innocent. Someone sent to Marion disappears. The only mail
I had was from my wife and Joe Haas for the last three months I was
there.
The CMU at Marion is an all-oppressive unit for
the purpose of having an inmate so isolated and secluded that people
will lose interest, he will lose interest, because of loss of all hope,
and thus be totally dependent on his jailers for all needs, which then
makes him malleable and compliant to whatever the government
wants. It is nothing more than a 1984 Big Brother scenario.
Once all hope is lost, a man will begin to die. That is the goal
of the U.S. Attorney’s office. Many have already died over the
years, with the designation “Escaped by Death” placed on their death
certificate. They do this particularly with political prisoners
such as my wife and myself.
As of this writing, my wife and I are in Strafford
County DOC in Dover, N.H., reaching out to whomever within the
governmental structure that is lawful and legitimate to save us from
what the U.S. Attorney plans to do to us. We fear our lives will
be lost. Most certainly they have been decimated. Four other men whose
only crime was to offer us support in the event we were attacked and
our lives threatened, as any good neighbor or American would do or
should do, have since been incarcerated.
One of the officers of the court said to me, they
intend to bury you, and if you appear to be putting together a viable
defense, they will separate you and not allow you to confer for the
trial. This says it all. I feel that nothing less than
military intervention to provide us with sanctuary is adequate for this
run-away U.S. Attorney/judicial system, which is destroying lives and
murdering people on a daily basis. I do not say this lightly, and
I do not say this without sad proof. Must we die for standing for
the rights of everyone?
I can now fully understand what our forefathers
had to endure under the same official oppression, torture, murder, and
cruelty, by, it turns out, the same organized people today. The
only crime any of us committed in this matter, having injured no one,
having damaged no property of anyone, was to take a stand against this
run-away administration that fabricates allegations and charges against
many people increasingly on a daily basis, for the sole purpose of
expanding its private agenda within our government. If we ever
receive a legitimate lawful hearing, we would be set free
immediately. However, there are no courts left in America, only
the court of public opinion. We wait for you.
The greatest enemy a nation has is the silence of
its people. George Washington All that is needed for evil to
abound is that good men do nothing. Thomas Jefferson
U.S. Prison System
Elaine
On October 4, 2007, upon leaving the house, I was driven to Wyatt Detention Center in Central Falls, Rhode Island. Upon arriving, I was strip-searched, and put into prison clothes. I was placed in a room with full glass interior wall, in which the curtainless shower and toilet were open to view of everyone passing by. The bed was a concrete slab on the floor. I was given a thin, plastic encased mattress, sheets and blanket. It was now very late, well after midnight, I think. No one spoke to me after that; the bright over-head light was kept on all night. There I remained until early Saturday morning, October 6; periodically an officer would come to check on me, and would write something down in a notebook. I later found out this was a suicide-watch room.
Saturday morning, October 6, I was strip-searched once again, and given different clothes to put on, taken to the garage and placed in a vehicle. Two men (marshals?) drove me to Danbury Federal Correctional Institution (FCI) in Danbury, Connecticut, where I remained for ten months.
Upon arrival in Danbury, I was strip-searched once again, and given a prison orange outfit to wear, fingerprinted, photo’d, and interviewed by the psychologist, as everyone is upon arrival. He had a note from the marshals stating that I was a suicide risk. I was next taken to the SHU. The SHU at Danbury is what one visualized prison to be like. It is three-tiered, with bars, and a narrow walk-way in front of the cells, with approximately fifteen two-man cells on each level. The SHU is where new arrivals are temporarily placed while awaiting the availability of a bed in the general population, and also where inmates are placed for disciplinary reasons. It is a punishment facility, very restricted. The noise level is unbearable. Inmates carry on conversations with other inmates who might be on a different level; they simply shout back and forth to each other, many such conversations occurring at once. No attempt is made to quiet down the noise.
Meals are brought in a tray; there is a book-cart to choose a book from; showers and clothes changes are limited to Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. There is one shower on each level. When it is your turn to shower, you are handcuffed behind your back, your cell is then unlocked and you are led to the shower room, that door is locked, then your handcuffs are unlocked. The shower has a curtain, but the room itself is open to view, being only bars.
The boredom and the noise are unrelenting. The most I could do was to try to lose myself in books. On Fridays the warden, the chaplain, and others made their weekly rounds, looking into the cells, asking if I am alright, or simply walking by and looking in.
After twelve days, I was handcuffed behind my back, taken from my cell, brought into a room where I was strip-searched, and given the prison khaki clothes. I was given my newly issued ID card, a piece of paper with the unit and bed number I had been assigned, and let out the door into the “compound.” I am now in general population.
Having no idea where I was supposed to go, no one tells you anything in prison, I stood there until an officer pointed out where my unit is. He told me to go there and stand by the door, which I did. Eventually two officers strolled by, and asked me if I needed to get in there, I said yes. He unlocked the door, I went in he locked the door behind me. I was confronted with a stairway in front of me and a door to my left. I went up the stairs, and found myself in a large room with many women. A few of the women helped me to find out which bed I was assigned to, and one of them loaned me a sheet and a pillow.
The following morning I went to laundry to get my clothes and bedding. We wear men’s socks, tee-shirts, uniforms, and shoes. The shoes are black, steel-toed work shoes, and are too big and heavy.
Danbury is one of if not the oldest prison in the country. It was built in the 1930’s as a men’s prison. In the 1970’s there was a fire in which some of the inmates were killed. After that it was condemned, refurbished, and converted to a women’s prison. There is no air-conditioning there, and in the summer it is brutal; the temperatures can get to 100 degrees; there are big fans, but they don’t work well, and the women fight over them.
Everyone who is medically exempt must work. The jobs pay 12 cents an hour. You have to go to different departments and put in requests for work. If you don’t find a job, you are assigned to the kitchen, where you definitely do not want to be. The women in the kitchen are treated like animals by the officers, they are sworn at. I have seen an officer take a trash barrel of water and empty it onto the floor and tell the women to clean it up; he felt the women didn’t have enough to do.
Everyone must work unless medically exempt. I put requests in to several different departments, including education department which also oversees the law library and the leisure library. I asked to be able to tutor, as I have a doctorate, or to work in the library. I was never allowed to work. Why would someone with such education not be allowed to tutor when there are so many women studying to get their GED? I have been kept from speaking from others as much as possible. Fortunately I was classified medically exempt due to my age and physical condition of COPD, and my broken wrist.
I was in a dormitory type unit, with 70 women in one open room, five-foot high partitions dividing the space into 2, 3, or 4 person cubes. Constant noise, swearing, arguments.
I soon met some women of like mind and age, and we were able to meet and study and discuss the laws as we were finding them. We met daily, and eventually began to file documents as we learned about the commercial remedy. We learned that all law is commercial, and operates under Uniform Commercial Code, which fact and procedure is being deliberately kept from the people. The courts are still fighting us on this.
Most of our filings required a notary signature, so I made frequent trips to the secretary’s office for her notarization. As we neared the end of our procedure, in June of 2008, I went to her as usual for her signature. She informed me that she had been ordered to no longer notarize anything for me. I asked her who gave her that order, she answered, “You don’t need to know that.” From then on, instead of a notarization, I simply put my thumbprint on the document.
Two of the women I was working with were released, as their time was completed, and we have not been allowed to communicate since. I believe one other was released since I was transferred to Texas, again not allowed to communicate.
On July 29, 2008, I was called to R&D and told to pack out. Where am I going, I asked, don’t know was the answer, I was just being transferred. On July 31 I was taken from Danbury and driven in a van with several other inmates to the airport in Poughkeepsie, New York. There I boarded a plane, along with several other inmates, men and women from different facilities in the area. We were all handcuffed and shackled for the entire trip. We arrived at Oklahoma Transfer Center, where we were processed in. I was kept from the others, placed in a room by myself. The room, like the one at Wyatt Detention Center in Rhode Island, was a suicide watch room. A female officer sat in front of the window-wall all night, watching me (except when she would fall asleep).
Early the following morning I was again strip-searched, and taken to an automobile, which is when I learned that I was being transferred to Carswell in Texas. No explanation why. Two officers drove me to Carswell, about a three hour trip.
Upon arrival at Carswell, which is on a military base in Fort Worth, I was again processed, strip-searched, had a brief interview with the physician, one with SIS, in which the SIS officer told me he would interview me in a few day (he never did), and was told I was assigned to the “admin unit”, THE maximum security facility for women in the country. Interesting that after ten months in general population, I was now being confined to a maximum security unit. So my isolation begins.
At Carswell, in the max unit, all mail, incoming and outgoing is read, phone calls are listened to live. An appointment must be made with SIS to make a phone call, so someone can be there to listen. We never leave the unit except for needed medical or dental care. Everyone has her own cell, and we can socialize only with each other in the day room. There are no ‘dangerous’ inmates in this unit. In fact, it is actually quiet, there are only about 18 women here, the average age at the time was 48.
I was here for 6 months, when I was told, on February 2, 2009, to pack up, as I was being moved. No one tells you where, when, or why. On February 4, at 1:30am I was awakened and told to get ready to leave. About 20 of us were placed in a van and driven to Oklahoma Transfer Center, where I was once again placed in isolation for the week I was there.
On February 11 I was put on a plane with others, and flown to Poughkepsee. NY, again everyone is handcuffed and in shackles. No food or water was given to anyone for the many hours of the trip. Upon arrival at NY, I and 32 others were driven to Danbury. There we were given, around 5pm cold drinks, food at 7pm, processed in. Again I was placed in isolation for the week I was there.
On February 18 I was driven to Merrimack County Jail, arriving at 9pm, placed in isolation overnight. The following morning I was driven to the federal building in Concord for arraignment. At the arraignment I submitted to the court the Bonded Promissory Note for one billion dollars, the Private Discharging and Indemnity Bond and the Private Bond for Set-off. Judge Muirhead did not accept it. This is authorized by UCC3-603, Public Law 73-10 of HJR-192 of June 5, 1933, Title 4, Sec. 401 of the Federal Reserve Act, and confirmed by the Supreme Court in Guarantee Trust of New York v. Henwood et al (1939), further confirmed in 12USC and 28USC, Sec. 1641 and 3002, and the Foreign Service Immunity Act. The court appointed a stand-by attorney, I did not enter a plea, the judge entered it. We have since notified the court we do not consent to this appointment.
Following the arraignment I was taken to Strafford County Jail, again put in isolation/high maximum security until March 11, no communication whatsoever with anyone, allowed out one hour a day for shower, and ‘exercise’ which consisted of walking back and forth in a 30-foot long corridor. Following the status hearing on March 11, I was placed in general population, where I am as of this writing.
Ed and I are allowed to meet daily to prepare our case. As we are not cooperating with the wishes of the court, we expect to be separated at any time now. We have noticed the court that we will not participate in any proceedings in this matter. We have been allowed access to the ‘law library,’ which is Lexus on a computer, in which anything we need is blocked or simply not on it.
Here at Strafford, phone calls are prohibitively expensive if calling out of New Hampshire. Visitation is complicated, and only 2 one-hour visits per week are allowed, and not on the same day.
We continue to work in the commercial venue, much to the annoyance of the court. Updates to follow.
There seems to be a number of Contradictions existing in Ms Katz's report. Lets take a look at them.
Just as Ed and Elaine Brown challenged the court to show them the law where they were compelled to "voluntarily" pay income taxes when it did not apply to them, nor did Judge Singal follow the law and answer in writing, proof of his limited, fictional Administrative (UnConstitutional) court's Jurisdiction over Ed and Elaine, a Living, Breathing, Flesh-and-Blood, Sentient, Natural man and woman, Justice was not served but Corporate policy was..
Singal heavy-handedly denied the motion along with all other motions filed by Ed and Elaine without comment. Stacked Deck?? You Bet!! The answer to that fundamental question of law, looms as the death knell for Justice in America. Such blatant demonstrations of tyranny and indifference to the peace and security of the American People can only occur if The Sovereign People of America continue to slumber in their Satanically induced mesmerized "slave state" of mind.
That fact alone is grounds for reversal of Singal's handling of the case. One needn't go any further to realize our courts no longer serve the Sovereign People, but the Corporate Interests now served by black robed Pharisees.
Katz reports that "The Browns were arrested peacefully in October 2007 by a team of undercover U.S. marshals," Who the hell wrestled them down to the ground, overpowering a man and woman in their own home without provocation? Peaceful?
"Judge George Singal highlighted the dangers Brown created, telling her that her actions could have resulted in death and injury to law enforcement agents attempting to serve a court-ordered warrant." Without waiver of rights and/or consent of their Unalienable Rights, such Unconstitutional court-ordered warrant was null and void. At no time, were Ed and Elaine violent. The only shots fired with intentions to harm or kill, during the long standoff came from government forces directed toward a guest of Ed and Elaine, on their property. There was no return fire from the Browns. Is it not curious that such forces have a license to kill, yet Sovereign People commit a crime in America if they reserve their right to self-defense. Has our world become BASSACKWARDS?
One merely has to observe the deterioration of Law and Order in America, originating at the hands of Satanically Turned Law Enforcers who've been pursuaded to turn away from their Oath of Office to defend the Constitution from all enemies foreign and DOMESTIC.
To get Ed and Elaine's side of the media controlled propaganda, I invite all to visit my website at http://www.arkenterprises.com and read .the Saga of Ed & Elaine Brown linked series.
Raymond Ronald Karczewski©
Cave Junction Oregon
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Brown files appeal
By Margot Sanger-Katz Monitor staff
October 06, 2009 - 12:00 am
Shortly after she was sentenced to 35 years in prison for her part in a prolonged standoff with federal agents, Elaine Brown filed a notice that she intends to appeal both the sentence and her convictions for weapons possession, obstruction of justice and other crimes.
Brown has until early next month to file a more detailed appeal with the First Circuit Court of Appeals in Boston.
Brown and her husband, Ed Brown, took to their turreted home, where they evaded their sentences for tax crimes, for nearly nine months. They attracted supporters, accumulated weapons and constructed dozens of improvised explosive devices as they repeatedly said that any attempts to arrest them would end in violence.
The Browns were arrested peacefully in October 2007 by a team of undercover U.S. marshals, who came to the house disguised as supporters. The couple was convicted of a combined 11 felonies this summer.
At her sentencing hearing, Judge George Singal highlighted the dangers Brown created, telling her that her actions could have resulted in death and injury to law enforcement agents attempting to serve a court-ordered warrant.
Brown, who has long espoused unconventional views about the legal system, told the court that she saw her actions as civil disobedience in the tradition of biblical figures and the American founding fathers. She said she would continue to resist government authority from prison.
"I do not submit, and I will never submit,' she said.
Her husband's sentencing has been postponed so he can undergo a psychological evaluation. His lawyer has argued that Ed Brown is "delusional" and unable to participate in his own defense.
Margot Sanger-Katz
Saga of Edward and Elaine of the clan Brown Chapter 4
Here we sit, Monday, April 13, 2009, at the lap-top computer which was just made available to us last week. This has a printer with it, so we are able to print our writings ourselves instead of having to have the jail officer print them out for us and delivering them to us the following day or two after.
We are still stymied as to how to progress in any self-help method simply because everything that we do is continuously controlled by the DOJ/U.S. Attorney’s office, the very office that is and has been conducting malicious prosecution from day one. We have almost no outside help, and still do not have the one book we have been asking for for weeks, namely the UCC book. The officer here tells us they will ask the U.S. Marshals for it, but there has been no response about it. A friend just told us she is dropping one off to us, thank you for her.
The ‘law library’ we have been given access to consists of a computer with Lexus Nexus in it. Unfortunately, we can access nothing in it. There is no access to case law, USC, UCC, the New Hampshire Constitution, administrative law.
All these wonderful ‘benefits’ that are being provided to us by the benevolence of the DOJ/U.S. Attorney’s office and the U.S. Marshals are appreciated; however, it’s only enough to make these government agencies look good, and to cover them in the event of an appeal. In fact, though, it is only a minimum of resources, and a fraction of what they have, not enough for us to be able to prove our innocence or be able to provide a minimum proper counter to their attack on our good name, character, property, and freedom.
As we have spoken to many other inmates, we realize that their plight, most of them, is as serious as ours; and most of them are in here on allegations/charges that deserve no more than a slap on the hand or a reprimand, yet they are being given sentences that twenty years ago would have been given to a murderer, of five, ten, fifteen or twenty years.
These long sentences along with the poor quality of food, and virtually no proper medical or dental care are causing some serious health problems, such as diabetes, heart conditions, many skin diseases, which appear to be injected through the TB test. I have contracted a systemic skin disorder through the TB test, confirmed the following year, when it increased again with the second TB test that I fought but was forced to take. (I was told that if I resisted, I would be physically held down and given it.)
I know of several women in my unit who have dental infections, swelling and pain, and are ignored. One woman has been suffering for three weeks with 3 infected teeth, with no pain meds or antibiotics given her, which she has asked for many times. Finally, she was taken to an outside oral surgeon to have the teeth extracted. She was shackled and handcuffed and brought into the dentist’s waiting where there were several people waiting, humiliating her. The dentist then proceeded to remove one of the teeth. She told him he was supposed to remove three, he said he was told to extract one only. So she still has pain and infection, and it was three days later before she was given any pain meds, which was only Tylenol. A dentist comes in every Saturday; why was she not given a time with him, rather than going out to an outside dentist, causing humiliation and discomfort to her, and unnecessary expense to the jail.
It’s almost as if there is no one in control of the prison facilities. Wherever we go, when we ask a question they have a canned answer, that being, “I don’t know, I’ll have to find out.” It’s no one’s responsibility, no one knows. It appears to us that each employee at each prison facility is robotic-like; they come in at the beginning of their shift, they go through the exact same motions they did the previous day, and get angry with you if you ask a question or ask for help. It appears they don’t wish to do anything beyond their routine.
A good example of that is whenever we have an ill or injured inmate, and you bring it to their attention, they’ll tell you that unless the inmate is on the floor, don’t call us. Also, don’t press the panic button unless it’s an absolute life or death emergency.
We are trapped, along with many, many others, in this Catch-22 damned if we do, damned if we don’t prison system that offers absolutely no proper help or relief for any innocent party or otherwise. We sit here this morning in absolute sadness, realizing that our legal system and our government have totally broken down and is gone. We are also very aware that out in the street the problems are mounting, and we realize that the heart of those problems stem from the DOJ/U.S. Attorney’s office; they are the generals in the field taking their orders from the banksters/international corporations to protect the bankruptcy.
A good example of this, for and on the record, is the International UBS Corporation, which owns and controls a corporation known as the UNITED STATES of AMERICA, which they acquired, when they acquired the PAINE WEBBER GROUP of international businessmen. So whenever you see the UNITED STATES OF AMERICA v. JOHN OR JANE DOE, that UNITED STATES OF AMERICA is not the geographical United States of America that you think it is. It is a private corporation. So how is it that a private corporation through supposedly our courts is able to file charges or claims against the American people? The word is fraud, deceit, deception, malicious prosecution.
I believe that the court system is running the largest racqueteering and slave industry I n the world. The records show that the courts/prison system/U.S. Attorney’s office is making billions of dollars a year; this is why we have the largest prison system in the world. Not because we have an increase in crime, in fact violent crime has been shown by the FBI/DOJ to have been decreasing over the past few years, but because the courts/prison system/U.S. Attorney’s office and all other government and law-enforcement agencies combined are earning huge amounts of money off everyone they put through the system, particularly those they put into prisons. The net dollars, which run into the billions, have no accountability to anyone. They simply steal it.
This room now has a new addition: a 2-way monitoring system. It seems this room is used to do arraignments by television/camera/audio. A plasma screen TV was just yesterday set up in here, the video is always on, showing the inside of this room. When we are in camera range, we are shown on the screen. The officials claim it is in “sleep mode,” but if anyone is in the courtroom that this is hooked up to, they could be assumed to see and hear us as we work. We have sent a request to the superintendent for privacy, and are waiting to hear back from him.
Weekly we are asked if we will accept the discovery package sent by the U.S. Attorney; we do not, we will not. 4,000 pages of discovery; we have no use for it; we have noticed the court that we will not participate in any proceedings, so we do not intend to participate in the trial. The court-appointed stand-by attorneys will probably be ordered by the judge to try the case, they will do so without our presence or consent.
We do not send ‘motions’ ‘pleadings’ to the court’ we send only affidavits and notices, although they are always referred to as ‘motions’ and ‘pleadings’ by the court and the prosecutor. They have all been denied to date, affidavits not rebutted. By law, an affidavit not rebutted stands as true. Apparently that law is only for the accused, the court and U.S. Attorney are not held to it. We only will approach the court as special visitation, which is one who goes in only to oversee the operation of the company/court.
continuing
May 10, 2009
UNITED STATES at War with Its People
Facts or Illusion?
As Elaine and I sit here this day, discussing the bombardment of negative press from many quarters, and ill treatment from the so-called government authorities here in the prison systems, we never get a break or a ray of sunshine from any quarter. It’s like the world has gone mad. No one seems to be able to be consistent any longer; no one seems to be able to understand the truth, or even want it when you give it to them. We have become a nation of confusion and illusion. We have become a nation divided out of weariness and frustration of the continuous bombardment of illusion, deception, misrepresentation from our own government.
Since 1933 the United States government public servants, for their own personal enrichment, have slowly and seditiously brought forth this unwarranted demise of one of the greatest nations in history. The United States corporate government declared war on its people on March 9, 1933, under the New Deal of Franklin Delano Roosevelt. This is fact of record, as per the Amendatory Act, a/k/a the Emergency Banking Relief Act of March 9, 1933, (48 Stat. 1) to the “Trading With the Enemy Act” of October 6, 1917.
The illusion is freedom and liberty. The fact is insidious descent to slavery, so cleverly done that most of us are not aware of it. “The Matrix” is in play for real. The ten steps of the Communist Manifesto are in place in the United States today. Type into your search engine on your computer, “Communist Manifesto/United States government.” All of this very sad fact of history and record will be revealed to you.
As we have been researching this material for over twenty years, with many others from around the country and around the world, there is now a clear and definitive conspiracy in play by public servants within the United States government with a specific agenda, which will result in the collapse of America’s infrastructure, both physically, sociologically, philosophically, and morally.
As a society we have been pushed, squeezed, beaten, suppressed, from a Christian nation, from a manifest destiny of great directions, to a manipulative, humanist, communist belief system that has always self-destructed throughout history. The world has seen four great empires throughout history. The first and biggest was Babylon; the second the Persian; the third was the Greek, the fourth the Roman. All went to democracy, and all failed in a violent and catastrophic manner. Those secret manipulators behind the scenes have had thousands years of experience and knowledge to draw upon, of how to make nations rise and fall, control most of the governments of the world, but for this writing, the United States, the government – democracy, versus the United States of America, the people – republic.
The United States government, democracy of Washington, DC, is made up of manipulative public servants, particularly law-makers, law-enforcers, lawyers. We must remember that almost all – ninety plus percent – of all government leadership, are lawyers, and the one common denominator of all lawyers, is that they are all members of the same organization, known as the private BAR association, nationally and internationally, whose agenda is for personal enrichment at the expense of the rest of us.
If you have noticed over many years, virtually all of these politicians/lawyers leave their illustrious positions, wealthy. Not wanting to drag on about the obvious, we wish to show you how bad it has become with a little personal experience. We want to show you how brutal the government has become, especially against those who challenge it, in order to protect its secret for the billions of dollars it steals from us each year.
My wife and I did challenge the United States government through the Internal Revenue Service starting in 1994, when we became aware of this agenda. As we demanded answers from several different agencies, we clearly began to understand how intrusive agenda was. It ran clear down to our local towns and cities. No one wanted to give us the answers to the questions we asked. We realized that our fellow countrymen and our very structure of government, were in danger of collapse. Everyone was just going along, without being aware of the true laws they were supposed to be protecting and enforcing. The new laws that were being established by the government were becoming more offensive and intrusive every day.
Because we had believed in America, in government, as a nation made up of good and charitable people, we felt we had to do our part. As we had discovered four specific major errors in law, we had decided to go with exposing the income tax law, because this law effects virtually everyone in the country, and has destroyed so many lives, families, businesses, and homes. The misapplication, misinterpretation of the income tax laws and constitutional laws have led everyone to think that everyone must pay, and the government can do no wrong.
We need to pause here for a moment to understand something we have discovered:
Three Sets of Laws
God’s Law; ………………………………………………….Ten Commandments
Which include about 100 laws of nature.
Commercial Law…………………………….Uniform Commercial Code – 1 Book.
Based on the Jewish Shetar law of over 6000 years ago.
Includes Common Law and Constitutional law
Statutory Law, Ordinance, license, permits, family law traffic law and ad infinitum.
that number 61 million and growing each day.
God’s Law cannot mix with fictional statutory law. This is why the courts have removed the Bible from their procedures. The 61 million laws of man are legal fiction, which allow privileges only; all rights come from God. God’s Law is life and substance (substantive law), statutory law of man is fiction (form of law).
Uniform Commercial Code allows people who live under God’s Law to be able to communicate and interact with other sentient men in the fictional law; i.e. contract, as all law is contract, and all contract is commerce. Thus per 27USC72.11 shows clearly that all crime is commercial. The courts say it is frivolous, although their law books say otherwise. This will give a basic understanding of how the law is in the world today. All governments, industry, and corporations, world-wide, operate in UCC law. Yet the government will tell you that it is frivolous.
As my wife and I had discovered this, we again placed the challenge to the government. We could find no law obligating an American of the fifty union states to pay an income tax.
May 30, 2009
On Thursday, the 28th, friends visited us; we both filled out the forms and submitted them as required by the jail. My visit was approved, I met with our friends. Ed’s visit was not allowed, as the officer claimed Ed had not submitted the form. This is the 3rd time this has happened to him. More abuse.
We have been informed by Superintendent Dawaliby that as of June 1 we will be obligated to pay for the postage for our legal mail. Until now the jail has been paying for it, while we of course paid for our own private mail postage; we thought the U.S. Attorney’s office was paying or this.
June 6, 2009
On Monday, June 1 we had a status hearing at the court. The judge was determining if we are competent, due to a motion by Bjorn Lange. His finding is that we are.
We have decided to allow Michael and Bjorn to represent the strawmen for the trial, making it clear that we are not the strawmen. We have done all we can in the redemption process; we now leave it up to the attorneys to go forward in their venue. We have reserved all our rights.
Judge Singal has determined that no pre-trial statements will be publicly made in order to insure, as much as possible, an untainted jury pool. However, the media continues to report only the negative; we questioned the judge in our letter of June 2 whether the media is working for the U.S. attorney, as they persist in demonizing us. Where is the fair trial with an untainted jury?
It appears that on Monday, June 8 we will go to the courthouse to review the juror questionnaires, with Michael and Bjorn. We will see what they contain.
June 9, 2009
Yesterday we learned from Bjorn Lange that on June 7, 2007, the feds had 174 personnel at our house, rather at the staging area near our house. For 2 elderly “tax offenders?” Is this overkill? Just to “serve papers,” as stated by Moinier. We were aghast at 30 people that we thought were there; we were later told there were 50; now we find out, 2 years later there was a real army on location. Could they have been conducting an exercise, using us as unwitting participants? Why else so much against so few?
Michael and Bjorn were not able to come yesterday with the juror questionnaires, but will come on Wednesday June 17.
Margo Sanger-Katz, of course, continues to try the case in the Concord Monitor. She is becoming a real problem. It appears she has decided we will be her career-builder. When this case is over, a suit is in order. Freedom of the press appears to mean the press is free to print whatever it wishes, the truth be damned. I recall a reporter back in 2007 telling us his job was to sell papers, not print the truth.