Moral of this story:
Think more than twice before you act, but most of all, pay attention.
Moral of this story:
Think more than twice before you act, but most of all, pay attention.
Even as recently as 1999 the powers to be attempted to use hysteria to ignite the belief the unexplained is actually witchcraft - with a no plot loosly termed movie, The Blair Witch Project. Don't you think its high time Earthlings 'grew up' and accepted reality?
Why the witch reference?
Circa 1978- Inside my residence, Julie Tursky accused me of being a witch, after I saved her from the wrath of an invisible-to-us entity who knocked a picture off the wall trying to hit her.
Circa 1998- Inside Wollondilly Shire Council, the voices (smiley face) told me to look up as WSC general manager Graham Taylor looked at me, in the second after I looked up a section of false ceiling fell on TAYLOR's head injuring him. Taylor blamed me for the ceiling fall. Ergo TAYLOR also believes I'm a witch.
Both TURSKY and TAYLOR had done horrible things to me behind my back.
No I'm not Jesus returned.
Realising I'm a genuine 'medium' (perhaps making a link to Jesus 'in their mind' as that's been asked me many times) delusional Australian government powers to be, falsely accuse me of mental illness, (that would cause harm to others) in 2007 but it didn't stick so they tired it again at state election time in 2014 securing support of 'The Party Faithful' they incarcerated and forcibly drugged me for some months without any supporting evidence whatsoever - in exactly the same manner women were rather brutally murdered on false accusation of being a witch in the not-so-distant recorded history.
1984, my male parent called me into his hidey-hole under his house. I was understandably reluctant to go inside considering he’s threated to shoot me with his firearms on a number of occasions. One face to face after I watched him load the bolt shotgun/rifle in the loungeroom of our 43 Darwin Road East Campbelltown family home. The other also circa 1973 when he got me to drive him to a secluded part of where he’d been working on the Campbelltown to Liverpool freeway (F5) circa 1973 under the false pretext of giving me a driving lesson after I had my licence. He sat staring at me for a while after he got me to stop, I could see he had his arm behind his seat, occasionally he looked towards the bush next to the DMR compound at the crossroads end on the still incomplete F5. Then told me to drive home. When we got home, he pulled his rifle/shotgun out from behind the seat he was sitting on. I screamed foul so everyone in the neighbourhood could hear yelling something like, “Why did you have your shotgun under the seat when you asked me to drive into the bush dad?” several times. So obviously I was reluctant to venture into the darkness with him. To my surprise he said something like, “You’ve been a good daughter to me.” Then added solemnly in broken words, (if it was an emotion of compassion, it was the first time I’d seen it in him) he said, “I’m sorry for all the (bad) things I’ve done to you.” I asked him to clarify. He refused. In reflection, he thought I was going to be killed on Fathers’ Day 1984 and wanted to free his conscience of the guilt he was suffering for being a part of my (attempted) murder. I ran up to mother to ask her if she knew what he meant. I wasn’t stupid, I just wanted to hear it properly. I don’t do hints, I’m a straight talker. Mum knows what she said and did.
News Flash: It's the same in every country across the globe, there's only 3 types of people: those who happily expose the criminal
activities in, (our Labor and Liberal) government; those who are too stupid to see it; those so evil they support it. At the risk of insulting the majority - there is no 4th option; 'don't care' is either stupid or evil. Who are you? Happy Stupid or Evil.
Evil South AUSTRALIA Health opposition spokesperson Chris Pictom MP & Bruce Thomas Lander QC both think you're stupid.
I wondered why Christine was looking around the bed as if she was expecting to see something when she pulled the covers back on the bed, she offered me. Growing up as I did it was automatic that I notice everything. Drugged or otherwise I take in everything. I noticed the white lace covered water bottle on the bed as she pulled back the covers. When I woke in the morning, I saw the snake bite on my foot. I remembered the snake biting me from what I thought was a dream at the time. When the snake bit me I slowly moved my foot away into a cold part of the bed; in my dream I told the snake I meant no harm; in my dream the snake agreed to leave me alone. It only bit me once.
Quite a few people were very shocked when they saw me the next day. Being an old hand at being a target for attempted murder and being an amateur psychology scientist, I showed Christine the bite on my foot, saying nothing other than, something like “Look at this.” Immediately she went on the defensive which told me she knew how I got it. Christine said something like, “It wasn't my fault.” I went to the doctor for the bite that made it impossible to wear my normal shoes. I was prescribed something for the bite. I told the doctor how it happened.
The last known attempt on my life was from my then ex-defacto, Owen Hall. I was living in 5 Tulip Close Bowral NSW. Out of my council electorate for obvious reasons. I was not stopping Owen from being a part of the children's life, but that didn't stop Owen from claiming that to all others. I was at a council meeting; Owen was at my place looking after our children.
I was a smoker, just about always I smoked when I drove my car. Usually I was smoking when I got out of my car and entered the house. The 5 Tulip Close house had a garage under same roof. It was my practice to drive into the garage, closed the garage door and open the sliding door from the garage to the house which was the kitchenette. The first item in the kitchen was the gas stove on the left. The stove top burners had an automatic ignition, so you had to work at turning on the burners without lighting them.
The 'voices' (smiley face) told me to toss out my cigarette before I got to the house. That was annoying as it was just lit despite that my gut feeling told me not to light up. But being experienced at being an attempted murder victim I listened to my instinct. If I had not tossed out the cigarette beforehand, when I walked into the kitchenette and was met with the sound of the 4 burners on the gas stove hissing and the wall of gas smell, I probably wouldn't have heard the boom that would have followed. That was the last time Owen Hall was allowed inside my house. The last time I spoke to him civilly was when I left him that evening to look after our little children who were asleep in their beds off the kitchen with their doors open. Owen was on the floor in the lounge located behind the kitchenette wall. He'd seemingly drugged himself and was hard to wake. I was hoping he died in his car on the way to his home, but I wasn't so lucky. I got the children outside into the back yard before I threw Owen out.
Owen, (the son of a Freemason) proceeded to tell everyone I was keeping him from the children just to be mean. He omitted to include he'd tried to murder us. The unjustified outpouring of sympathy for Owen being my 'victim' was notable. When he grew fat after we separated, that too was my fault. Everything suddenly was my fault. Owen stole my real estate, that was my fault because I was told I'd used Owen as my 'gravy-train' which gave me such great riches as being flat broke with not a stick of furniture to my name and homeless. When I tried to file a subpoena in the Family Court to prove Owen had acted criminally with a Freemason credit union manager to get a loan on my real estate without my knowledge, and to establish I had right to property settlement as Owen was then illegally squatting in my house and refused to move. The young female clerk said to me in a voice of a child almost with tears in her eyes, as if she'd just been hypnotised to say it, “You're just doing it to get back at him.” WTF I thought, on many levels.
I didn't know her, she didn't know me or Owen, her 'belief' came from someone else entirely. Its notable that the Freemasons have spent a lot of effort over the years to brainwash me and others in my family. This stupid bitch had been brainwashed. Sure it's not her fault, but its not mine either - I'm the only one who suffered.
When you're brainwashed its not permanent if you live long enough. But you need a trigger to draw out the memory the brain-washed tried to hide from you. When I discovered om 2018 who my mum's ancestors were I felt cheated my mum hadn't told me. Only recently the trigger pulled out the memory of me aged about 7 being told by my we were related the to Scottish royal Stewarts' she never spoke of it to me again. Not without effort I interrupted a few like conversations that ended with my male parent telling my mum she wasn't allowed to talk about her family. He didn't know about his family so he was determined to make sure we didn't get to know about mum's. He was a sugar-coated arsehole who smiled broadly and conned his way through life.
Last century Freemasons, most males with authority and government officials were sadistic power-hungry autocrats. Today's members of governments are just as despicably criminal as the ones involved in the 1967 children's occultist murder-rape I witnessed because they remain silent or refuse to allow me access to my legal rights to resolve the last century Freemason vendettas that are the surgical-rapes from which I'm now suffering serious physical harm.
Owen started a Family Law court action, in walk more Freemasons, (Judge Lloyd Waddy and lawyer David Dunkley.) They continued the Freemason tradition of harming me for dobbing them in on their tradition of child sodomy and murder. Not saying Waddy and Dunkley are rapist-murderers. I am saying their actions towards me in their profession supported the cover-up of the Freemason rape-murder tradition. Pay attention. Judge Lloyd WADDY breached Australian law in the year 2000, in the Family Law Act matter of Hall v Hall PA3302 of 1999. WADDY became a self-appointed one-man parliament, he deemed he had jurisdiction, (in the case involving the days Owen was to see the children) he decided he had authority to rule that my male parent had not raped me on 3 March 1959, and no-one had indecently assaulted my at the NSW Local Government Conference in Port Macquarie in 1997. Yes, you read that correctly. WADDY is one of The Party Faithful and went out of his way to make me believe he and DUNKLEY and another, Family Court Parramatta Judge, COLEMAN, were all Freemasons. While I remember, when the all-male federal police scanned the mothers entering the Parramatta Family Court in 1999 and 2000 they almost always commented on the woman's breast size. When anyone talks how wonderful Australia and Australians are, you have to wonder on what planet they live.
Christine believed I was 'really' Leanne Walters, like all the others 'in the know' at Wollondilly Shire Council at that time. Despite my mannerisms and my personality to screamed it was a total lie, the brainless boffins were convinced by the Freemason-police bullshit. Perhaps as it was the biggest bit of excitement in their lives and they craved excitement. Who knows? Freemason police stole a photo of my adult face, published it in a story book the classified as 'TRUE CRIME' (a play on words.) They claimed in the book and real life they identified me as the only female murder victim from the Bandidos and Comanchero 'bikie gang' shootout in the Viking car park on Fathers’ Day 1984. The book they called 'Brothers In Arms the inside story of two bikie gangs', the authors are Sandra Harvey and Lindsay Simpson.
I know Freemasons call each other Brother (last name) like some religions do. Brothers In Arms, refers to comrades. Labor Party like to refer to each other as comrades. To be an inside story, you have to be one of the bikers. That I suspect was a Freemason ploy to put the bikers at each other's throat wondering who the spy was. I suspect that was the only intent of the use of the word 'inside'. The entire book was written from the view of government with a bit of reference to the bikers to make it look it was from them. I'm not saying none participated. Just that the government through the authors pretended to give them the belief they valued their contribution. If it was from the bikers viewpoint there would not be so many police named and there would have been no reference to their autopsies. There would have been a chapter on the funerals if the bikers had been in control. As it became illegal to gain income on your own crimes and they were all charged and sentenced, chances are none of them would have willingly contributed. Just saying others did notice. In that same light, SIMPSON and HARVEY have gained profit from their crime of including my stolen photo in their book.
Just about anything I write will always take me down this path because of the extensive human tragedy the event caused. My experience indicates the book was the police pearl. The only way you get a pearl is by creating an irritation. From the evidence, when you step back and take in all the evidence, which includes my life history and that people tried to get me to go to the swap meet that day. People expected me to die that day. Some I knew thought I had died that day, which included other scum-bags who had raped me in 1973. Which is another very funny story, not the rape but when the rapists saw me years later thinking I was a ghost and ran away literally screaming like little babies. They probably wet their pants too. Girls like me got raped in the 1970s because we gave the flick to the arseholes who drooled after us. Then they stood together and said we agreed to a gang-bang. In their dreams.
Because there was a push by people at Visyboard to get me to go to the swap meet, people with parents or family friends who were also Freemason police. I'm not saying all Sydney NSW police who were Freemasons were involved. Just like all criminals don't know each other. Saying the government did something doesn't mean every person in the government was involved. Clearly the shootout was planned by, (specific) Freemason police by aggravating the right people in the two clubs with intent to get rid of competition in the Sydney drug trade, which was probably relatively small compared to today, but large back then. That's what I take away from all the evidence I have. Others involved in the shootings may have also had experience with Freemason rape in their past too.
History comparison: Scotland's best known hero William Wallace is in my family tree as an uncle, his younger brother is a grandfather. Its said their family were from Wales, William Wallace was born in Elderslie near Glasgow, Scotland. In his lifetime the English King Edward decided he wanted Scotland. In a bizarre parallel, In 1984 I lived in Elderslie, my Elderslie is near Camden in New South Wales, when another English 'team leader' decided they wanted to exert unlawful authority over me. I don't shoot lightning bolts from my arse, but they force me to endure what feels like electrical sparking in my arse from their surgical-rape microwave-controlled torture implants they illegally shoved up my arse in 1991 when I was about 6 months pregnant, leaving thick black surgical stitches to close their surgical-rape cut. In the 700 years between when Wallace lived and now I can't see any different in the attitude of the English to the people of their dominion.
This King Edward is also in my family tree. Sure their time frame was a brutal time, they had no respect for life itself. King Edward was said to have seen one of his English soldiers “hacking a woman to death as she was giving birth”. There's not much difference to that and repeatedly surgically raping a pregnant woman. I knew I was being secretly drugged and surgically-raped multiple times. You can imaging the constant terror I was in during my pregnancy in 1991, I can't see much of a difference between toe two events apart from the fact I was the main target.
There's been absolutly NO Australian whose stood up and said publiclly 'surgically-rape is wrong'. Let alone on me when I was a pregnant mother. We all know in our community silence is approval.
Historical reference: at 10:48 Youtube "Braveheart: Fact or Fiction? (Medieval Legend Investigation Documentary) | Timeline"
This is perhaps coincidence, I don't know. The last name of brothers who, (allegedly because I can't prove it on my own) raped me in 1973 when I was 16 were HARVEY, a Catholic friend of mine at school told me their oldest sister was called SANDY, Sandra Harvey. In 1972 when I knew the Harvey brothers at school one unsuccessfully flirted with me, he told me he lived on the corner of Allman Street and LINDSAY street, and his dad was a policeman, and that his brother was his half-brother, this was the first time I was introduced with that term. Half-brother. My guess is that Stephen Harvey and or Wayne Harvey followed daddy into the NSW police, like good-little-piglets often do.
I'm not saying no girl was murdered, I can't say that for sure I wasn't there. I am saying their own rather compelling evidence strongly suggests historically top-down criminally inclined Sydney NSW police faked that 1984 murder. I am also saying that any police person who is not corrupted would not stay in the police service for long. Likewise for all areas of government.
The story book photo is me and the stories they wrote about Leanne were intended to infer a relationship to me. The name they gave in the book to Leanne's boyfriend was my oldest son's name. In 1984 he was 10. In 1989 when the book was released, he was 15. Rumours that Owen didn't stop when he heard them, included that when I was pregnant to Owen, who was 8 years younger than me, his police Freemasons spread the false rumour I was pregnant to my oldest son. My last child to Owen was born when my oldest son was 17, the same age I was when he was born. I suspect a fellow, The Oaks NSW, resident named in the Brothers In Arms book was the one spreading the rumours; and the one who stole my photo for the book. His name is like my ex-husbands name, William Robert Peters, he's Peter Robert Bradbury, he too used the first name of Bob. I'm convinced from the evidence his wife stole my Centrelink file when she worked at Camden branch of Centrelink.
In those days Family payments for children was called Child Endowment. My Centrelink 'history' file went missing for some time and my teenage children were hindered in their right to secure unemployment, because my Centrelink history file falsely recorded their last name as my maiden name, which was the last name I registered for my oldest son; despite that I had registered my other sons under their dad's last name and given or shown Centrelink copy of their birth certificate, and recorded them for Child Endowment under their dad's last name. Eventually they were forced to change their last name in order to get unemployment benefits. If that's not a combined government crime...
Mrs defective Sydney detective Bob BRADBURY evidently returned my records after my ex-husband (Mr Peters) and my defacto (Mr Hall) were totally deleted from my Centrelink record despite being the fathers of my children and required under Social Security law. They, (the Bradburys) added my oldest son as my only domestic partner in a file Centrelink called, RELATIONSHIPS. My oldest son was removed from my CHILDREN file.
Now lets look at an alternate reality: Jesus of Nazareth was a medium. He tried to tell the truth of his experiences not dissimilar to mine, perhaps proving them with his 'healing' power. He was crucified because the old religion didn't want to let go. His followers tried to keep telling the truth but the 'political' winners in history always get the upper hand and twist the story to their benefit. Are you beginning to see through the mist of deception?
With our government in Adelaide Australia, the 'City of Churches' (knowingly-falsely) deeming me 'mentally ill' in need of forced detention, is EXACTLY the same as them deeming me a 'certified witch' only difference is the words they used. With our government in Sydney Australia 'surgically-raping' in 1990s their intent was the same effect as if I were burnt at the stake, they thought I'd be dead in no timer at all. Because I survived they changed tact in 2007 by pointing their 'witch-doctor' bone of false mental illness at me in the mirror-effect accusation I'm delusional, when its they who are the massively delusional sadistic psychopaths.
There's a number of probable reasons to the question of 'why' was I surgically raped. The fact my 'medium' ability threatens the perpetuation of religion is one of them.
Obviously I'm not a witch, I'm simply able to hear tangible entities talking amongst themselves and to me. Tursky, Taylor and a host of others can testify to the fact I'm what many call a MEDIUM, a doorway between 2 worlds one of which some humans are too cowardly-scared to want to understand. Especially when they can financially and socially benefit by fabricating a need for a huge mental health industry.
No, I don't do demonstrations, its not of my control I'm merely a medium.
Notably, the field of psychiatry is one big guess. QUOTE; “Education and mental effort are bad for women's health.” Youtube “Britain in 1900” at 43:15 (mm:ss).
Perhaps not everyone diagnosed with a mental illness are mentally ill. Perhaps they only lack understanding of the alternate reality, therefore they're unable to process what’s happening. Psychiatrists can't prove the 'voices' are brain malfunctions – they just guess. Politicians allow the mental health 'industry' credence because they have a trash-can approach to dealing with political problems and we're their potential trash.
Religion is a global multi-trillion dollar business: Stepping back, we know people started their belief in religion long before they decided our planet was flat. Burning people accused of being a 'witch' was obviously to perpetuate the notion of Christian religion in opposition to the alternate reality. I won't be the only medium that threatens the economic farce that is 'religion' yet we never see any TV news stories about the events like mine but bizarrely we get fake 'Christ blood' stories shoved in our face by major TV news outlets.
Think of what's under threat if religion is finally disproved. Church treasures; public holidays; the economic boom of christian traditions like Christmas and Easter bring to manufacturers, retailers and the government through taxes, is not one they'll let go of willingly. Even atheists like the public holiday 'days off work'. We've seen the huge wads of money pledged to rebuild the French church that recently caught fire while there's people starving to death or denied emergency health or dental care; and housing, because they're poor. The contradictions of the religions are apparent because they are economic ventures.
People in power can't conceive of a life without a belief in religion, even if they're atheists, with religion they can still 'mentally' control a huge pocket of people. They probably fear economic collapse and global sorrow or rebellion over being 'forced' to accept the reality that religion is like Santa Clause, a lie our parents told us to stop us from being bad. We 'are' living in a matrix, a place the government force us to stay refusing to tell us the truth as they know it in fear of loosing 'control' over us.
According to historians James I of England was also King James VI of Scotland from the House of Stuart, originally Stewart. He was the king who translated the Christian bible into the one we know today as the King James Version. He's also my family tree giving me a natural right to have an official opinion on his actions. The old Testament was written in the 1,000 years before Jesus was around which means the locals were primed to fantasise about a heavenly saviour. The new Testament was written about 50 and 100 years after the death of Jesus from rumours by people who could not have been eye witnesses. If in any doubt rulers have used the Christian Bible to control us then you only have to look at our laws that govern us to see the presence of the 10 commandments.
Confirming that people like to change history after the witnesses to the historical event have passed, comes from the current Australian government push to call 'bull' on many of the historical events associated with the ANZAC landing in 1916. All the while as I was growing up we were taught at school, (1960s to 1970s) that the incompetence of the English was why so many Australian and New Zealand troops died. Now since the witnesses to the event have all died some of Australia's government public officers and/or The Party Faithful, have decided to change history, calling all our now dead brave soldiers who knew the truth, liars, for nothing more than political favours. They were betrayed by their government then and now this betrayal from our current government continues. Sickening.
My own brother said the only kind thing to me in my memory as adults in 1989 while we were waiting to participate in Freemason court, incorrectly ordered mediation, in response to me taking an Apprehended Violence Order application against my male parent for raping my then 4 month baby. Alan turned and said to me honestly and gently in a quiet moment, "You know Jenny you survived despite them." I turned quickly to look to see if he was being sarcastic. I realised he was just like the loving brother I knew when we were really little, the little boy about 7 or 8 who I heard crying when male parent forced him to watch as he slaughter a sheep, I got there to see male parent pulling the bleeding sheep up by the legs to drain the blood. Before long my brother was back at being the arsehole I’d seen more often than not. I do understand, but I find it unacceptable that he refuses to give me any respect and is willing to believe friends over what I say is the truth. Our 8th great-great maternal grandfather, Rob Roy MacGregor’s present gravestone was erected in the same decade, 1981, proclaiming "MacGregor Despite Them."
n 3 January 1975 I married aged 18. My oldest child was almost 1 year old. By the time I was 21 I was mum to 3 super gorgeous little boys who had longish hair, because it was the 1970s. When it was hot I put their hair in pigtails even when we went to the shops, much to the horror of the Campbelltown NSW ladies of my parents’ generation when they complimented my beautiful boys on their exquisite female beauty, before my boys responded cheerfully with the news they were actually boys. Yes children, I was a trend-setter, decades before my time.
I was never unhappy about being a young mum. I grew up in Campbelltown NSW we moved in mid-June 1962, I'd turned 6 on 1st May 1962. We lived at 43 Darwin Road East Campbelltown. The house was newly built for us male parent got a war service loan to pay for it. My male parent was a Freemason all my life. My mum was more intelligent than my male parent. She was well educated in private school in Sydney at a Christian ladies college. My male parent grew up on the streets of St Peters Sydney his dad died when he was a toddler, his mum was a cleaner at the local school working hard to feed her thankless brood of brats.
Soon after we moved into Darwin Road, I'd caught my Freemason male parent sodomising my brother quite a few times. Mum told me she was unable to stop it because the Freemasons controlled everything. It wasn't that my male parent was the exception in society at that time, as I was growing up, I noticed that most of my girlfriends male parents were sexually inappropriate with their daughters. It was the unspoken accepted norm. Anyone who claims any different are still in denial or are part of the coverup. I suspect the change came with the baby boomer generation. We are a large group spanning from about 1945 to 1965. We were all part of a revolution that was inevitable simply due to our numbers. What we wanted we got.
Old Freemasons and their offspring, current day political parties’ stalwarts, are the relics of the old days. The old guard who believe they have the right to dictate their wishes on the rest of us and don't care who they hurt in the process. They only hire people for government employment who share their mindset. Essentially, they're psychopaths, cruel, sadistic autocrats who thoroughly enjoy seeing other suffer, people who live for a good rumour the more gruesome the better. They're also the best liars, they're incapable of empathy but excellent at pretending to be empathetic., when push comes to shove they'll be one of the first to publicly support objections to some small scale atrocity, making sure as many as possible see them objecting, with no intent of actually wanting to see any change or doing anything positive to force change. They're what I call 'The Party Faithful'. Human imposters.
I'm the polar opposite to The Party Faithful. As a child taught by my well educated mum I was always good mannered. Like my mum I was naturally intelligent scoring well in school exams. Unlike my mum I was outspoken, when I saw something I knew was wrong, I wasn't afraid to say so. Circa 1967 my mum was cooking the meal for the men from the Allman Street Campbelltown ‘Blue Lodge’ in the kitchen south-side of the combined building owned by my male parent's Freemasons. In the middle was the hall rented for public events. I attended tap dancing classes in the hall in the 1960s. On the north-side was the temple. It had been a church for many years before the Freemason ownership. The 3 separate rooms were under one roof. Entry to the hall and temple was via the same door. I was in the hall near that entry door sitting on the wood floor playing jacks when I saw 2 men with 2 boys my own age walk in. They were speechless apart from the boys who were crying, they both saw me and I stared back at them watching intently as the men ushered them into the temple. Clearly something was wrong. As children our male parent told us we weren't allowed to go into the temple, and mum wasn't allowed to go inside either, male parent said it was strictly Freemasons only. So, when I saw the crying boys being ushered in I stayed close to the door to hear was happening.
They were in there for ages. At different times I heard the temple men cheering. When I heard the boys screaming in agony the temple men cheered louder, seemingly to drown out the boys screams. Some made bizarre random noises with their voices as they were stomping their feet on the wood floor of the temple. I heard the bizarre sounds recently from women in an African tribe, it’s like a scream while the throat warbles. Clearly, they'd done this before. I went to mum in the kitchen to get help for the boys, but she was petrified. Clearly, she knew what was happening and was afraid for her life and mine. 1960s was a world away from 2019 may as well have been another century. Wait a minute, it was. I went back to the door area to watch. There was nothing I could do physically, but I could see, and I could remember what I saw, and I could tell on them later. You’re never powerless.
The noise died down. I saw one boy being ushered out of the temple he looked to see if I was still there, he was sobbing deeply. The lodge man pushed him in the back out the door. I waited for the other boy but never saw him. I did see a man carrying out a rolled-up carpet on his shoulder he loaded it into the back of a vehicle parked near the door. I saw the temple men rush from the temple. They were elated laughing and joking in an overtly excitable state of mind they were acting exactly how you would expect a pack of men to be after they had raped their victim. As a child I had never seen this sort of excitement in adults, or children for that matter. They were all wearing formal dinner suits. In retrospect this sort of formal attire was reserved for their ritualistic pack rape sessions. It was not their usual attire.
In retrospect the ritualistic rape sessions always had a meal following cooked by one of the wives who were on a roster for that purpose. So, there is no way all of the wives didn't know what was going on. I guess there were about 20. Dad had set up 2 or 3 (old) trestle wood tables for the meal. So, my guess is 20. Most were in stages of undress, some tucking in their fancy lace white dress shirt. Some doing up their cuff links. Some straitening their black bow tie. Some pulling on their black dress pants. Some doing up their belt. Some pulling on their black socks. Some pulling on their black dress shoes. Many patting another’s back. It was disgusting when you know what they’d just done. Almost all were carrying their black suit coat. As a child I had no real understanding, but I knew it was wrong. It felt wrong. My male parent worked in the NSW state department of housing as a carpenter. Some men were local state police. Some were court men (judge or magistrate). Some were politicians. Some were tradesmen like my dad. As a child I was most interested in who the police were.
My male parent often spoke of Jimmy Imber. He worked at the Campbelltown police station. When the 1960s Elvis Prestley movie, Las Vegas was released, (new) at the Campbelltown picture theatre when it was on the corner of Queen and Brown Streets Campbelltown, Jim Imber was policeman at the Campbelltown police station. My dad told my oldest sister to say Jim Imber was her dad if the boys harassed her. Policeman James Imber had a daughter around my oldest sister's age, she's 10 years older than me. Policeman James Imber lived in the street behind us, Brisbane Road, directly opposite my girlfriends house. Her dad Alex Spencer was a Freemason. He was also a carpenter. I told Mrs Spencer what had happened. The Spencers’ soon eventually separated. I told everyone what happened. I told my best friend who lived behind us. She told her parents the Hatchmans’, they belonged to the Campbelltown Theatre Group. I told all my neighbours. I told my teachers at school. I told every adult in my circle of contacts. It’s not likely no one knew. The Freemasons had to close the Allman Street temple and disband by early 1970s. Its long been demolished. No-one was ever charged. Most of these rapist-murderers would not be alive today. My male parent is not on the electoral roll anymore, so I suspect he's dead too. He's 33 years older than me, if he were alive, he'd be 96 this year. They’re all dead, (probably) and I’m still paying for being a child victim of Australian Freemason sex crimes. That’s the logic of your 2-party preferred democracy.
If I had my time over knowing what I know now I would have poisoned the stew the Freemasons ate after their rape session and happily watched them all die. But as that is impossible the psychopath psychiatrists in government can't say I'm a danger to the public because I just wrote that. I've never hurt anyone, myself included.
Soon after I witnessed this crime all my adult teeth turned rotten. I had to have the 4 front ones removed but I was not given a plate to replace the teeth. I suffered what research tells me was injury to my brain. I suspect they gave me a shot of electricity to my brain to try to shut me up. I spent some weeks constantly uncontrollably shivering, it had nothing to do with my temperature. I also had black circles under my eyes.
There were multiple attempts to kill me as an adult. Lucky for me I'm a really nice person, most people who knew me liked me so the attempts to kill me were restricted to people close to me who believed they would benefit financially from their efforts. My male parent and my defacto partner, (1985-1996) Owen Hall, (deceased 5 March 2010) included. The last time my male parent tried to kill me was poisoning in white sugar in 1985. The last time Freemasons tried to kill me was 30 June 1987 when I was driving to work. Once I left Owen and withdrew from everyone the attempts on my life stopped. The state health department claim my withdrawal from the community is proof that I have a mental illness, which proves conclusively the mental health industry is absolute bullshit.
I'd left Owen in 1996. This attempt on my life happened in the 6 months after I left Owen. Someone drugged me and a put snake in my bed. The snake bit me once then went away. That was when I was known as Councillor Jenny Hall and lived in 1 Swaine Drive Wilton NSW. I was drugged during an award event attended by myself, my mayor Christine Towndrow and several council officers. I's met Christine at her motel in Wilton, left my Mazda 929 there as we were car-pooling to the event in her mayor's car. I was supposed to drive home back across the village in Wilton, but Christine set me up in a bed at her motel. I was too drugged to refuse or drive or walk for that matter.
All this I only discovered in 2004 but it happened way back in 1991. Despite provisions of the 1988 Privacy Act and multiple written and face to face requests to Centrelink, they have refused to correct the family record errors. In 2004 the refusal was documented with Goulburn NSW staff adding that the information was “historically correct”. How can you be historically correct and factually wrong? Many people across Australia will have had a similar experience with the retarded inbreds at Centrelink. It wouldn't surprise me if the Bradbury's were now living near me in Adelaide.
For the 'politically correct' presently jumping up and down on the spot - a retard is a stupid person, there's no escaping that. To call a person a retard is an insult. I would never call a person who was actually retarded due to inbreeding, a retarded inbred, because it’s not their fault. But Centrelink staff fully deserve the tag and then some, it was intended to be an insult, they intentionally act dumb. I think it’s part of the job description, along with extensive training in how to talk in a condescending manner, as 'best practice'. I suspect it was due to a lack of intelligence. They must have fallen as children and broken their moral compass. (Smiley-face.) That one was borrowed from my second oldest son.
I've never liked bikers. Never liked motorbikes. Never really liked pubs. Sure I was an under-age drinker in my time, went with boys I'd known from school, but I only ever drank bourbon and coca cola. Only pubs I ever drank at under-age when it was trendy, were Minto Inn, Leumeah Inn, and very occasionally Picton's George IV. Mostly Leumeah Inn. When the bikers arrived they ignored us and we ignored them. A now prominent lawyer and fellow ex-Campbelltown student drank with us but I won’t say his name as he was scared enough of his dad finding him in the pub when he was 21, he was the only person I've known to mix his bourban with dry ginger ale. His ex-classmate was Phil Stever who also drank with us. When the police arrived looking for under-aged drinkers because I didn't look guilty, looked them in the eye and didn't act like a child, they left me alone. Not so for Dianne one of the other girls usually in our group.
My pub-era was short lived. Started when I'd left school in 1973 and ended once I turned 18 in 1974. I was equally exposed to pot-smoking but wasn't interested in getting high and losing control. I only like the mildly chilled-out experienced. Never been 'can't remember the night before' drunk in my life. If I've ever looked it its because I'd been criminally drugged. I'm the sort of personality who expects to remain 100% in control 100% of the time. Therefore, I have the obvious ability to know when I've been illegally drugged, specifically if I can't remember what happened after a point the night before at a council meeting, Christine.
After I'd been drugged illegally once, I'm obviously going to be on the lookout to prevent it happening again. Which is why they kidnapped me in broad daylight, (from the patio of Camden Council when I was having a cigarette with Christine before the first MACROC meeting I was scheduled to chair) to surgically rape me circa 1997-1998, causing me permanent brain damage from that point. Since that surgical rape I reverse words I want to say. Suspicious people mistake my reverse dialogue as a Freudian slip. I often think I've said the word I want to say, only being alerted to my mistake when I hear myself saying the wrong word. I have a scar on my scalp to prove that surgical rape.
I have multiple CT and an MRI that also prove that same surgical rape, the same CT and MRI images published on this website. When they surgically raped me circa 1997-1998 they cut my skin in my hair and opened the top of my head. The lump from whatever it is they left inside me can be felt with the tip of a regular finger. I remember seeing doctors I knew during that surgical rape because I'd consulted them in private practice. But there were others involved I didn't know. I begged and pleaded with them not to do it but they simply laughed at me. Why would SHANE GOODYEAR at Ashford private hospital be so frantically intent on having me illegally detained under the Mental Health Act in 2007 in the manner he did in 2007 after I showed him the implant cable over my left ear lumped under my skin - if he wasn't in some way closely involved with my surgical rape and in fear of the threat to his life and career my exposure entailed? Why would the government breach the Mental Health Act in 2007 by not giving me the paperwork about the 2007 detention, if they knew 100% it wasn't an illegal detention and if they weren't participating in the illegal cover up of that 1997-1998 surgical rape some 1500 klm away? A cover up that spans several levels of guilt.
If you can't prove something is true, you might be able to prove its true on the 'balance of probability', by other things you can prove are true, that wouldn't happen if the first thing wasn't true.
The first time I was aware in my adulthood that Freemasons wanted to harm me was in 1978, when my husband and his best friend were caught after they stole some useless item from a factory, then ditched it in the canal along Airds Road between Campbelltown an Minto, after drinking for hours at the local pub. Both drunk, they thought it would be a good idea to steal from the factory across the road from our house, in 19 Lincoln Street Minto. I hired new lawyer John Marsden to represent my husband, Bob Peters (William Robert Peters jnr deceased on 19 June 2008). I didn't realise it at the time that John was a man with serious mother issues. He hated all women. He happily took my $100 to defend my husband but stood silent at the most important moment. The Freemason magistrate knew I had 3 children, aged from 5months to 4years. Bob's buddy, (nicknamed Buzz) had 2 small children, his wife was pregnant with their 3rd, they brought their children to court, I left mine with my mum. The Campbelltown magistrate decided that as Buzz had 2 children and one on the way he would not be sent to prison. The arsehole looked at me when he said he was going to sentence Bob and smiled when he got the reaction from me that he obviously wanted. The future president of the Law Society of NSW John Arsewipe Marsden remained silent despite also knowing I had 3 small children.
The children and I were the ones who suffered the most during the several months Bob was incarcerated at Parramatta prison from September 1978, before being sent to Silverwater minimum detention centre just before Christmas. Bob was released the following April. Not saying prison is easy. Not like you don't know it’s going to be hard. Bob got 3 meals a day and a roof over his head. The children and I hadn't done anything wrong, because of what Bob and Buzz did we didn't even have enough for food. In those days the payments to “deserted wives” was very low. This was the period of time just before the big shift in the legal status of women.
The change started with legislation amendments, mid 1984 NSW, I don't know about other states or whether is was national. The new legislation in 1984 allowed, for the first time, that women could withdraw money and close a bank account without the written permission of their male parent or their husband. I shit you not.
In 1978 a woman was not allowed to rent a house or buy on credit anything in her name if she was marred. Her husband was the only person allowed to withdraw money from her bank account. Because I refused to say I was going to leave my husband when he was in prison, the department of housing refused to give me a government rental in my name. We had to wait until Bob was released from prison. I was working nights at a local factory when Bob went to prison. When I worked he was home with the children. In 1978 there were no child care centres. I had to stop work. On the deserted wives pension the money just covered the rent for our old house. There was not enough money for all of us to eat. I knew the importance of nutrition for the children at their age, so I made sure they ate first. I ate enough once or twice a week to keep me alive. By the time Bob was released from prison I was mostly skin and bone. My Freemason male parent refused to help me. I was 22. Its from these things that Freemasons expected me to crumble and vanish. Its only due to the fantastic genes I inherited from my noble ancestors that I was able to rise above it all and be here, still standing strong today 40 years later, to keep telling the truth about The Party Faithful scum that rides rough-shod over Australians.
About my premonitions, they've been with me as long as I can remember. They've told me whenever there was danger about. Let me clarify a bit. Once we were parked on the side of the road, (circa 1964) they told me to tell my male parent to move the car. Eventually I convinced him. Minutes later an enormous limb from one of many old trees lining the road landed exactly where our car had been parked. Just saying they are entities separate from me, not me talking to me. They've saved me from disaster numerous times and long before the brain damage the Freemasons inflicted on me circa 1967. With them I get to see parts of the future. I'm what you would call a psychic. Only spoken about being psychic in recent years but the Freemasons knew about my incites back in the 1990s after a group of police detectives illegally drugged me to find anyone in my past they could threaten to assist them to attack me. Historically the Freemasons I've known are cowards, they get others to attack their targets so they can “remain blameless”.
A premonition told me my male parent's mum was going to die in June 1972 from an accident, a few days before it happened. The voices (smiley face) told me to tell my male parent his mum was asking for him as she was dying, to stop him from going to a lodge meeting and see her instead. The did that for my grandmother because they liked her. After his mum died that night my dad asked me how I knew she was asking for him. I was able to use a bit of childish logic to stop him knowing the truth. I was never sure if it worked. Its true shrinks globally will agree that hearing 'voices' means you have a mental illness, in reality that's not always the truth of it. My entire life has born evidence to that.
One of the most amazing experiences was when I was talking to a neighbour sitting at my kitchen table when 'the voices' (smiley face) yelled, “Stand up, turn around, put your arms out” I did it as they said. When I put my arms out one of the children fell into my arms from a long flight of stairs. We had concrete floors. The child would have most probably died if I wasn't there to catch them. That is proof positive we share this Earth with another species superior to us. No God, a species of being seemingly far more humane that most humans. Don't you want to know who they are? Nothing is ever as it appears to be on the surface. Personally I don't think most humans want to know the full facts of anything.
How many millions of dollars did NASA spend on the 1970s Voyager space program?
In 1977 I had a large semi-trailer ram my HR Holden up the rear shunting me about 3 car lengths forward. Had I not heeded the frantic instruction of 'the voices' (smiley face) and buckle up my lap sash seat belt for the first time in my life, (long before seat-belt laws) I would have died in that crash. I told the male who stitched me up at Camden Hospital, (I got a small cut on my arm) he said he'd heard of 'that sort of thing' before adding I should not tell anyone else or they'll lock me as a lunatic. Humans don't deserve to know.
My life experiences confirmed by many close to me and some total strangers prove, 100% that; a modern psychiatrist’s delusional belief on ‘hearing voices’ as exclusively a sign of mental illness; is akin to accusing someone of being a witch for any reason, or doubting those brave people all those years ago who told their fellow Earthlings the world was round, not flat.
I challenge the constitutional validity of a legislation that allows 'hearing voices' to be excuse to force drugs on people against their will to 'cure' them, like trying to 'cure' someone of homosexuality. Hearing 'voices' of people you can't see is more likely than not a sign that you have really very super good hearing.
Go back into recorded history and think, which French person was acclaimed as being a great battle commander while also being a teenage girl? A remarkable battle that changed the course of history eventually resulting in her being burnt alive by psychopathic Englishmen. I'm both French and English so no racial discrimination to be found here.
In all modesty, I'm more intelligent than most people, but I've never treated anyone harshly because they're less intelligent than me, can't say the same for the arrogant condescending boffins who think their lack of ability to understand me automatically means they're more intelligent, and their proof I have a mental illness, despite the massive evidence to the contrary. That's the definition of delusional. I suspect the higher intelligence goes hand in hand with the specific set of psychic abilities I have. I have at times literally seen in my minds-eye, something in the same physical plane but in a future time slot, things that actually happened a few days, weeks or months later. I get premonitions and I'm an empath. I personally feel the emotions of some people near me. Like heat that radiates. I feel the energy of a person near me. It’s not a 24/7 thing and I can't turn it on and off, it just happens. The mental health industry would love to add it to their list. However as Australian Constitution protects religions, its considerable bullshit to say non-religious people can't believe in something they can't see. Particularly as I've proven to many sometimes, I can see a future event, and I'm not talking footy grand final winners or winning lotto numbers.
Anything is possible. Every economist has been taught that that at university. However, the probability of a possibility is something else. It may be that the theories of extra-terrestrials being the creators of ancient civilisation are in fact true. They laughed at the persons who first said the words was round. They would have locked them under involuntary detention if there was funding for it and extra votes at the polling booths. Who’s to say modern medicine has the right answers today. People are still getting sick. People still die. Clearly, they don't.
Its possible that my ESP is linked to a genetic trail from the extra-terrestrial race that founded human life of Earth. Or I might simply be more in-tune to hearing the electromagnet waves from the universe. No one knows. Maybe my rare INTJ personality type that makes me naturally pay attention, so I was able to remember clearly my early childhood experiences switched on the ESP. No one knows, not me, not you. NB: No two INTJ people are the same, similar but never the same. I'm never envious. Always happy for others fortunes. I do however detest a recognition that isn't deserved which, evidently, happens most in politics. I'm probably one of the most well rounded INTJs, that's not conceited its a fact.
An INTJ could never be delusional.
Success in politics is defined by whose the best for 'The Party' which is as far away as possible to who is best for 'The People'. I have no doubt that in the very distant future the best person for politics will be defined as the person who can resist temptation the best, not the easiest as it is now.
Imagine for a moment the, (Youtube) raw theory of extra-terrestrials developing our planet is true. Imagine everyone is being spoken to subliminally by entities from that superior race. Imagine they use us for their entertainment. If you could control the actions of people in a Big Brother TV set, what would you do to the contestants? Would you be nice to the ones you like an tell them when the other contestants are planning to screw with them? Would you help the arseholes because after all you want them to entertain you? Would you do something you were being 'told' subliminally that don't sit right with you? Would you do something rotten anyway because you incorrectly think it's your subconscious talking to you?
Or would you do that mongrel thing because you really are an arsehole? If I were inclined to be an arsehole I might like to screw around with people like that. I'm too empathetic to do that shit because I wouldn't like it to happen to me, I wouldn't do it to anyone else. Even my worst enemy. Not even my old Johnson & Johnson work-mate Julie Tursky. It wasn't me Julie it was the 'spirits' living in the house at that time. I told Julie they were planning to drop a wall picture on her head. Julie got up as the picture fell where she was sitting, she ran from my house yelling back at me she thought I was a 'witch'. I guess she believes in witches. Good thing it was 1978 and not 1600s.
There's also another probability for the invasion into my private world by illegal surgical-rape to my brain, (again for the slow ones, the surgical-rape to my head is evidenced in CT scan and MRI scan) is that because I am an INTJ personality I have a multiplicity of ingenious ideas that I vocalise to myself, but keep to myself, despite that somehow many end up in Australian advertisement from time to time. It may be a remarkable coincidence that someone else in Australia has exactly the same ideas as me at exactly the same time. Wonder what the odds are on that?
Wouldn't be the first time someone stole my fantastic idea, peddled it as their own idea taking all the credit and profits as the case may be. They know who they are.
I don't have any religious beliefs or any other emotional investment in the supposition as to why I've been attacked in the ways that I have. I do have multiple scientific findings based on cold hard fact, what you do with it depends on how well you've evolved, mentally.
I've told you something about my life and given you something to take away. All I expect from you is that you think about the next thought that randomly pops into your head. Is it really your thought or some arsehole pressing your buttons for their entertainment? A life decision is like a plank of wood, (stay with me on this) once you cut it you can't take it back, then all you're left with is two short planks and there's not much thicker than two short planks. (smiley face)
The Party Faithful
or The Most Feared Witch of Adelaide Australia.
Janette Gail Francis 2019