Notes to/about my father (who still won’t talk to me)/page closed 12/7/13

(12/07/13     4:27 am)




Peace.  Out.



9:35  am

Dear Dad, I no longer wish to speak to you.  You’ve had two and a half years to do right by me.  You are a liar, a fraud…and a coward.  I can  live with it.  At least that makes one of us.


5:10 am

“Breakdown Dead Ahead”  (Boz Scaggs)

(Lyrics follow.  Scaggs has a great voice but I thought you might have trouble with his enunciation.  He sings once a year at his own place in San Francisco.  I always wanted to hear him but I’ve also always been broke.)

I call ya
You ain’t in
What’s this cold reaction
Where you been?
Ooh baby
Layin’ it on the line
If this is last call
And you say that’s all you can take
It’s fine

I’m sorry but
It don’t make sense
You’d be a fool if you just run out on
First offence
Oooh baby
Play it smart
‘Fore you go south
With your big mouth
Better check your heart

Danger there’s a breakdown dead ahead
Maybe you’re in way above your head
I may burn
Might upset you
But you know I’d never let you down

I told you
No more lyin’
No more tears a falling
Stop your crying
Ooh baby
I’m your man
‘Fore you go back to your sidetrack
Baby understand

Danger there’s a breakdown dead ahead
Maybe you’re in way above your head
I may burn
Might upset you
But you know I’d never let you down
No no no
No no no no no
No no no no no no no

Danger there’s a breakdown dead ahead
Maybe you’re in way above your head
I may burn
Might upset you
But you know I’d never let you down
No no no

Danger there’s a breakdown dead ahead
Maybe you’re in way above your head
I may burn
Might upset you
But you know I’d never let you down down down down
No no no…. no

2:33 am

When I was small Dad, you taught me “Touch not God’s anointed.”

What you meant was, “Touch not the hireling.”

You’ve never seen the anointing.



8:01 pm


7:55 pm





Here’s my sanctified hunch:  you told Jesus you would preach.  This is not “thus sayeth the Lord” (as you know, sometimes it is…)

I think the twisty-turns of your life (including my appearance) caused you to seek money, instead of fulfilling your commitment to God.

I think it’s kind of ironic, that I’ve received your calling.  So do you, right?


4:33 pm

9:51 am

Dare To Be Stupid!


November 14, 2013



3:04  am


November 13, 2013

9:33 pm


1:03 am

What you’re failing to recognize is the potential of this situation.  I hear from God, that’s been proven.  As you’ve paid to learn, I have not sinned sexually or by selfish ambition.  I am a potential fireball for good.  I recognize that to you “good” means “good for Robert.”  If I had a man behind me we could affect the world.  Would you not like that?  Seriously?

(PS- I am also much smarter than you.)


November 12, 2013

1:14 pm


9:55 am

“When you steal a lot of money, you need a lot of money. You have to hire your own private army to protect you but… that never works for very long and it definitely won’t work in an apocalypse.”

“I think of all the things I have said to the reader and all the ways I’ve said the same things for the sake of variable perspectives. I work for an energy that provides me with these perspectives. I see what I believe to be the rightness of these perspectives and… we need various perspectives because we are different people, or we think we are and… “as a man thinketh, so is he”.

The Dragon of the Apocalypse at the Crossroads of Impasse.

” A sane individual would probably begin rethinking their courses of previous action.”

More here:


2:46  am


November 11, 2013

5:40 pm



“Dad, I have stood against your lies for years now.  I grow fatigued.  I love it when that happens because “When I am weak, HE IS STRONG.”

“There remaineth therefore a rest to the people of God.”  Hebrews 4:9.

He’s going to allow me to relax after years of your induced “stimulation.”

10:46 am


5:38  am

“You have one god and one god only…the state.”


November 10, 2013

2:50 pm


11:51 am

“I’m crying to the Lord…I try to be meek and mild…I cried for you, now it’s your turn to cry a while.”


Well, I had to go down and see a guy named Mr. Goldsmith
A nasty, dirty, double-crossin’, backstabbin’ phony I didn’t wanna have to be dealin’ with
But I did it for you and all you gave me was a smile
Well, I cried for you—now it’s your turn to cry awhile

I don’t carry deadweight—I’m no flash in the pan
All right, I’ll set you straight, can’t you see I’m a union man?
I’m lettin’ the cat out of the cage, I’m keeping a low profile
Well, I cried for you—now it’s your turn, you can cry awhile

Feel like a fighting rooster—feel better than I ever felt
But the Pennsylvania line’s in an awful mess and the Denver road is about to melt
I went to the church house, every day I go an extra mile
Well, I cried for you—now it’s your turn, you can cry awhile

Last night ’cross the alley there was a pounding on the walls
It must have been Don Pasqualli makin’ a two A.M. booty call
To break a trusting heart like mine was just your style
Well, I cried for you—now it’s your turn to cry awhile

I’m on the fringes of the night, fighting back tears that I can’t control
Some people they ain’t human, they got no heart or soul
Well, I’m crying to the Lord—I’m tryin’ to be meek and mild
Yes, I cried for you—now it’s your turn, you can cry awhile

Well, there’s preachers in the pulpits and babies in the cribs
I’m longin’ for that sweet fat that sticks to your ribs
I’m gonna buy me a barrel of whiskey—I’ll die before I turn senile
Well, I cried for you—now it’s your turn, you can cry awhile

Well, you bet on a horse and it ran on the wrong way
I always said you’d be sorry and today could be the day
I might need a good lawyer, could be your funeral, my trial
Well, I cried for you, now it’s your turn, you can cry awhile

Copyright © 2001 by Special Rider Music

Read more:


4:40 am

My leftover spaghetti doesn’t taste too good.

Let’s go over this million-and-a-half thing.  As you know, I live in a house where “if I don’t do it, it ain’t happening.”  You know this and have enjoyed it.  Spathetti’s tasting better.  You put me out of commission for a couple years.  My services were not received.  I should have been serving Josh, and Isaac, and the property, and George and myself.  This offense continues because I was also unable to train Joshua.  He should be replacing me with things like firewood, and dishes, and laundry.  You denied him the opportunity to learn, and you also denied my benefit of his services.  Shit.  I could go on forever…

I have no idea what you’re worth because you never ever told me even one thing about your business.    Except once a year when you were desperate  to write a letter that was above your intellectual-pay-grade.

I had hoped not to do this in public, but I’m ready if you are.  You and I both know that one big reason you called me crazy is because you didn’t want people to find out I’m smarter than you.  That’s pathetic.

I don’t care if David and Isaac hate me forever!  I love truth more and I always will.  This is NOT going to go away.  Selah.

Happy Sunday.

November 9. 2013

2:30 pm


1:46 pm

From: (instruction…)

12:53 pm

You guys haven’t called  (906-291-1376)…

Proof that God loves women:  existence of the clitoris.

Women have separate specific organs for urination, procreation and recreation.

God gave men two heads so their brains don’t rattle around in the big one.


Just finished a fast for you and the church.  Isaac says I’m the most disciplined person he knows…and you STILL convinced him I was crazy.  Or at least convinced him you’re not a liar.  You are very good.


November 8, 2013

3:21 am

Psalm 68:5

“A father of the fatherless… is God in his holy habitation.”

November 7, 2013

10 am   exactly

3:36 am

“You can easily judge the character of others by how they treat those who they think can do nothing for them.”


November 6, 2013


November 5, 2013

2:37 am


November 4, 2013

3:24  pm

How surveillance saved my life.
When I knew that I was being watched, I became embarrassed about a lot of things.  It was hard when I heard voices in the shower discussing my body parts, or when they talked about the round wet spot in my panties as I sat on the toilet.  I did not like when the…etc. etc.
BUT, when I saw myself trudging through my days serving people who did not give a shit?  That was enlightenment.
I was FAR more embarrassed about being a slave to know-nothings.
If General Keith Alexander were sitting here with me, I’d kiss him on the cheek.
4.  or 5.
I’d kiss my dad too.  Right after he signed the check.



Dear Dad, Thank you for the dividend checks in the amount of $1.44 and  $3.20.  I’ve appreciated them the other three times you gave them to me as well.

Love, Linda


November 3, 2013

From my massive journal:

“Connie is now sitting on the wall at the very corner, right on the edge.  One of these days something is going to pique her passion and she will jump again.  I believe she has not been ruined.  Her tail seems to be working right again, I believe somebody probably did kick her.  I only know of one person who might want to kick her…who could get close enough to kick her.  He’s experiencing his own kickings, so I won’t confront him.  He does kick dogs, I know that. ”

November 2, 2013


November 1, 2013

1:22 pm

Very early…


October 31, 2013

Every day now somebody says to me, “…but I NEVER thought you were crazy…”

Dad, I keep seeing visions of you in an orange jumpsuit.  Remember that time you wore orange pants when Josh was little?  He asked, “Where’d you get the pants, Grandpa?  Did you mug a clown?”  Never saw you in orange again until recently.

OR, in the alternative…


October 30, 2013

5:22 pm

8:15 am
Took a pan of hot cinnamon rolls to my dad’s office.
Took cinnamon rolls to JD, and to Wayne at Connie’s.  JD loves citrus and I put orange oil in the sugar-cinnamon mixture, and glazed the rolls with orange juice-concentrate and sugar.  I can’t seem to help myself.  I must cook for somebody who gives a shit.  Sugar goes over well with my dad’s employees…
Dad wouldn’t eat my food for about a year, I don’t know if he thought I’d poison it or what. He’s the paranoia-king.  (He bugged his own office twenty-five years ago.)  Other people hug me when I cook, and say thank you.  My dad doesn’t thank people.  At least not people he doesn’t control.


October 29, 2013

Dad, I  am  hearing still that I send “hate letters”.  Here are excerpts of a letter I sent you on Father’s Day, 2012, before I realized you absolutely would not be human.  You told me that you “didn’t disagree with anything” and gave me a watch.  And STILL WOULD NOT TALK TO ME!

Dear Dad,

Keep this to yourself.  I like you.  The enclosed letter was originally written on birch bark.  I received it from you when I was 21 and running away in Florida.

They shut me up in Prose-

As when a little Girl

They put me in the Closet-

Because they liked me “still”-

Still!  Could themself have peeped-

And seen my Brain-go round-

They might as wise have lodged a Bird

For Treason–in the Pound

Emily Dickinson, c.1862

Dickinson wrote she “always ran Home to (my father) when a child, if anything befell me.  He was an awful Mother, but I liked him better than none.”

You taught me to wash my face when I was fifteen.  Years, and nobody ever showed me but you.

You took me with you on Christmas Eve to deliver fruit to Bobbie Bissonnette.

You actually like the “woman” things about women.

You need brighter flowers than your life frequently permits.  Me too.  I get that from you.

You cooked.  You cooked that shit that made David throw up.  Creamed corn and peas.  What were you thinking?

You struggle with all of us to make us more cool.  “Cool” is a relative term, but you believe everybody is eligible.

You gave me nearly everything I’ve ever enjoyed.  Until I started mooching from other men…

You are a very good father of boys.  Thank you.  You weren’t a bad fill-in mother of girls.

I remind you of your mother, and that’s been hard.  I used to think you gave me big jewelry because I wasn’t feminine.

I demonstrate the things in yourself, that you’d rather keep hidden.

I talk too fast and my ankles don’t bend right.

(However, I am the thinnest woman in your family…)

I have recently become grateful, took a little work to undo the negativity I’ve allowed to steep for far too long.

I would like to talk to you sometimes about the contribution that religion played in my former outlook.

My life is not about you, and yours is not about me although I count it among my greatest blessings to know you.  I count it an even greater blessing to share your DNA.  I know people who would kill for that…so do you.  (It’s a pity that a penile injection would solve the problem…)

Hey, Danny  Vogel changed my life.  Your religion hurt him far more than I can even imagine.  He told me that he learned about love from it all.  He said he learned about love  through “veils of hatred.”  Punched me in the chin.  I suspect, if we’ve learned to love at all, that’s the only way.  I mean, really?  Few lovers lack these veils.  You are a lover.  You are one of the best lovers around.  You are insecure.  You have reasons to be, but they are all in the past.  The words you hear that diminish you, are not real.  In this moment, you’re pretty incredible.  You learned your love through veils also.

“I can’t sell my mama short on lovin’ me.  Guess that’s why she let me go so far.

Mama tried to stop me short of stealin’.  I guess that’s why I had to steal that car.

She told me not to smoke it, but I did…and it took me far away.

And I turned out to be…the only hell my mama ever raised.”  (Johnny Paycheck)

I love you

I love her too, just don’t tell her.


October 28, 2013

Dad.  Stand down.  Stand down with a checkbook in your hands.  This can stop any time you say.

“I WANT MY COUNTRY BACK! I WANT IT BACK!” Naomi Wolf Rally Against NSA Surveillance


October 27, 2013

Dear Dad,  Thank you for talking to me at church.  I enjoy it even though I know you want people to see you talking to me.  Thank you for telling me about your contacts with birch syrup.  Josh has always wanted to taste it.  I don’t suppose you’d give me a tad?


October 26, 2013

The following is on the “Lakefield Baptist Church” page.  I don’t know if you go there:

Police: Mom sold her daughters’ virginity

Read more here:


My father made commerce of my chastity.  An aged commodity, but he PAID for men to have it.

I said to my dad, May, 2012, “I will be a lady again.”   I said, November 16, 2012, ” I will hold my head up again in this community.”  No pedophile priest has done worse to those with whom he was entrusted…


October 25, 2013

Dad, I had this dream, maybe God will give you the interpretation because so far I got nothing.

(From 10/24/13  Maybe that means something)
1 am
Just got up, I had a dream.
          I was on a very long trip around England, with somebody I loved.  I don’t remember who.  I remember hills and experiences and…no details at all.  Somehow I met Prince Harry, but I kept calling him William, and I even asked what it felt like to be king.  He was cool..we hung out. We were at his home and I got to know some of the people in his life.  (Lots of girls around.) Something happened to my clothes and I put on some of his.  I remember really nice tan corduroy pants.  I had to take them with me when I left…and I accidentally took a pin too, a political button.  I don’t remember what it said but I knew he had to have it back.  I wanted to keep it but it was very important to him.  His grandmother, the queen, was in a chamber under the floor and she stuck her head up as I was walking around looking for how to give it back to him.  She invited me to lunch.  Margaret S. was invited too, but she wasn’t traveling with me so I had to go find her. As I was trying to find her, I began to think about how the royal family are supposed to be reptilian shape-shifters and wondered that I hadn’t thought of that when I was with them. I was in a hurry.
          I’m disappointed I can’t remember more.  It was a very long dream.  I always figure God allows me to remember what He wants me to remember. A couple months ago He told me I’d never have to hurry again.

Psalm 32:7 Thou art my hiding place; thou shalt preserve me from trouble; thou shalt compass me about with songs of deliverance. Selah.





Dad, I prayed once, under the influence of the Spirit of Jesus, “Don’t let me just defeat Satan…let me ASTONISH him.”  I was stunned by the audacity of the prayer, but I think you need me.



Glenn Jackson:

I am well able to “restore” that which the Enemy has stolen from you
through the years [including time, resources and anything else]. And, not only
restore it to you [in a multiplied fashion] but also give you the Wisdom to use
ALL that has been restored to you to harm the Enemy and his schemes – in ways
you would never thought possible!
….”No weapon that is formed against you will prosper”…. Isaiah 54:17
….”Rejoice, O sons/daughters of Zion, and be glad in the LORD your God;
For He has given you the early rain for [your] vindication. And He has poured
down for you the rain, The early and latter rain as before. The threshing floors
will be full of grain, and the vats will overflow with the new wine and oil. Then I
will make up to you for the years that the swarming locust has eaten,…….. You
will have plenty to eat and be satisfied and praise the name of the LORD your
God, Who has dealt wondrously with you”…. Joel 2:23-26 NASB


5:34  Text to my dad:  “I sold some books!”

Hey, Dad, remember when I said, “There are a lot of ways to kill a man?”  I think it was May 2012 but I’d have to look it up.  Every day now I thank Jesus my creator whose supernatural shed blood I plead…that I am not you.  ( I love you better than any woman ever has and my government has a record of you saying so. )  (I spent many years suffering jealousy over Lene, and Jean, and Kathy and…)

Matthew 7:26  “And every one that heareth these sayings of mine, and doeth them not, shall be likened unto a foolish man, which built his house upon the sand”

“OLD MAN, You allowed a toxic situation to fester because you wanted me to look bad.

That makes you a liar, a child-abuser, a false Christian, and a jerk.

I can prove I BEGGED FOR HELP WITH MY BOYS WHO DO NOT KNOW THAT IF YOU DO NOT PUT WOOD ON THE FIRE THE HOUSE GETS C OLD.  I don’t want you to suffer, as I have, but it seems to be in the cards.”   JAY LISTEN UP!  You think I’m off my nut?  My dad is a liar and a fraud and you suck up to him.  Selah.

Look, I need you.  I can see FAR more than you, but I’m retarded.  Do you want to make a difference, or did you only want to get rich?


I was wondering if you liked those homemade candy bars I dropped off at your office.  I can do “Snickers” too.  Also, do you still have Adam de Angeli’s phone number?  We haven’t spoken for nearly five years and I figured it would be the Christian thing to do if we buried the hatchet.

Recorded in my parents’ home, circa  2008-2012…”Linda is in a bad way.  Her family is too.  We’ll just let this work itself out…but we should be responsible and plan to preserve assets…”

I believe that if my father had taken my mom dancing she wouldn’t have needed joint replacements.  There’s yet time, and I know he does the right thing.



“The destructive character knows only one watchword: make room; only one activity: clearing away …”  (Walter Benjamin)

I suspect the reason you refuse to talk to me is because you’re being blackmailed.

I also suspect I am uniquely qualified to help you DEAL WITH IT when your life is exposed.

I’d like to help you.


“Having everything is not enough, the ultimate aphrodisiac is to rule as a god.”

“Worship is a two way street, an energy flow back and forth. Both sides of the equation must be believin’ for cult worship to be fully convincing ”

-

When I was little, my grandma made buttermilk cakes with thick chocolate frosting and everybody would eat them sitting around her kitchen telling jokes.  Dad and Jimmy and others would perch on the counter kicking their feet against the metal cabinet doors. I looked up at them.  The bear cookie jar was up next to the fridge. Gloria didn’t always get the punchlines, and people made fun of her.  (I think Marty and Cliff stopped by a few times, it was before she got married.)  Jay was in West Pakistan. I looked up to him too.
Gloria and Kent spent their honeymoon north of McMillan in a trailer.  All the local guys thought it would be real funny to have a “Shiveree”.  (Charivari)   Kent of course, having grown up on the West Coast didn’t know about this rural “joke”.  He was very green and Gloria had been stalked by an old boyfriend for years.  When they heard the chainsaw start up outside their window way up there in the woods?  Now that was a story.  (I never thought that joke was funny.)  (Neither did they.)  I also heard odious tales of misplaced outhouses and other practical jokes with no punchline.  I listened well.

I believe humor is proof of sanity.  At one time if you could tell a joke, people assumed mental acuity and order. You could look or smell different, but if you found common ground to make people laugh…you were OK. Nowadays, people judge as they’re told.  Sad.

To tell a good joke implies a number of things:

Appropriateness:  Gotta know the crowd!  Don’t tell a “knock-knock” joke to a Jehovah’s Witness.

Common knowledge with listeners:  If they don’t know what you know, it isn’t going to work.

Justice:  People love a pie in the face.

Pertinence:  To time, crowd, location, and currently interesting topics.

Recognition of the absurd:  Sometimes absurdity is wasted on a particular audience.

Recognizing cause and effect:  What we expect, is not always what we get.  That’s pretty funny.

Self-recognition:  If you can’t take the heat in the kitchen, go somewhere else and pour some coffee.

Shared understanding of human feelings:  Failures here resort to irreverence and pranks.

Timing:  You tell your joke when the time is right.

Verbal discipline:  (These are not in order of priority.)

You can tell other things about a person’s “mental health” through their use of humor.  Self-denigrating humor isn’t funny after a while because we all know it means the person’s self-esteem is compromised.  Excessive dependence on “bathroom humor” implies an adolescent preoccupation with toilets.  Or tits.  Often one can determine a person’s kindness, or lack thereof, by their joke selections.  One example might be putting smoked cheese inside a birthday cake prepared for a person not ordinarily celebrated.

Dad and I should have a joke duel.  No, a sarcasm war to the death.

He issued the challenge.

He chose the weapons and nurtured my skill.

I demand satisfaction.

(OK Dad, your turn)

Here’s one time they tried to kill me:  October 24, 2011

“Sick, I was as sick last night as I’ve ever been in my life and it was frightening.  I was instantly drenched, the deluge left hot-flashes in the dust.  Mud.  I was losing consciousness, other times I’ve always been conscious, and I never, ever felt what my heart and breathing did.  I was ripping off clothes and calling George to come pray for me.  Then I couldn’t talk.  My limbs started jerking at one point, oh it was so scary.  As George prayed for me there were some guttural vocalizations, my breathing calmed down and eventually the palpitations and sweating stopped.  He put “Calamity Jane” on TV as I recovered, and started working at a nearby computer.
I asked him, “You know I’ve been really struggling since the haunting left.  I haven’t interacted much with the spirit realm, and I’ve questioned my definitions.  But this time, I really was attacked, wasn’t I?”  His answer shook me up.  He said, “I didn’t want to tell you this, but all day long your neck and face looked like you weighed twenty pounds more than you do.”  By that time I could sit up and he looked at me.  “You look completely normal now.” He still believes in demons too.”
(I wrote about 125 pounds of this stuff…I swore to much of it and had it notarized.)
(I sent a lot to Dad…he wouldn’t talk to me.)
(Alpha-falfa MOO)
PS- Cigarettes are just like rabbits.  Perfectly harmless until you put one in your mouth and light it on fire.


My mother’s recent kindness is an aberration I’d like to get used to.  After months I’m still surprised.  So pleased am I that I don’t even ponder its sincerity.  I don’t even care; she hasn’t  snarled at me in a long time and it just feels good.

Dear Dad,

I know something about you that makes me really happy.  I know that you respect me more than any woman you ever knew.  I can stick to my guns and guns are becoming more important.  I know you do not respect the fawning attentions that flatter you so much. Hell, you don’t even respect yourself and you’re the hardest worker I ever saw!

You should respect yourself because of me.  You created a woman who will still love you no matter what you do or say to her.  Isn’t that what you always wanted?   You talk a lot of shit about me Dad, but I defended you, even to the surveillance goons.  When the lady from the support group heard my story (she knew everything I was talking about and then a whole lot more, about groupstalking), she stammered…”YOUR OWN FATHER DID THIS?”  Until that moment, I hadn’t even thought about it that way.  I’ve learned to expect very little from you.

God is in control of you and of me and of Obama.  And Satan.  Get a grip and tell the truth.  “I think that you will not die.”  (Xaxa)   I am no longer afraid of you and my campaign is going to end peacefully.   And as I’ve expressed many times, my goal is “everybody happy.”  That’s Jesus’ goal too and Truth will set you free.

Love, Linda

PS-  Do you know what it’s like to misplace a pack of cigarettes and wonder if somebody moved it?  That’s paranoia.  I reject it.  You’ll understand, if you don’t already.


Dad, Isaac who threw me against a wall knocking me out cold (guess I told you that) because I said you were a liar, cannot understand why you are afraid of me.  That is because ISAAC is not a liar.  God is not going to let you go.  You must have made a real commitment at one time.  If you succeed at killing me (PLEASE God, let me live with you instead of with Robert Goldthorpe…) He will persist.  God has you in His crosshairs.  This is not about me.  God told me that all I have to do is keep telling the truth.  He’ll make that easy, as long as I keep going to Him.

Text to Dad:  “Can I run a campaign or what?  You bet wrong.  Make it right.”  (All politics is local politics.)

I got this back from my dad:  “Can I run a campaign or what?  You bet wrong.  Make it right”

My response:  “You’re the best.  Until you procreated.”

Text to Dad:  “I heard Jay say I was crazy.  Where would he get such an idea?  He’s never talked to me.  Like you.  He doesn’t stink of fear like you.”


“Three journalists, and one high powered lawyer in Minnesota–all women, all blondes, and all gang stalked by Minnesota police and police agencies–are suing the pants off of them in both state and federal court–and winning!”

“But one thing is certain: few people in this law enfarced state can tell us better than they can what it feels like to be stalked in such a manner, or how it feels to stand up and fight the insidious stereotype of “protected species,’ risking everything to talk about the harassment they endured from law enforcement, and its associated ‘fraternities.’”

More here:

“It is us who were aware of the problem from the beginning–when everyone else called us crazy, or deliberately stepped away from the dialogue–an entire society stepped away from the dialogue–and felt better about themselves, said “it could never happen to me.”

“… the answer is obviously this: as long as mainstream media continue to phrase the problem as one of “mass surveillance,” of an entire population, the cases of targeted individuals like myself will continue to be overlooked as madness, potential criminality, or rambling accounts of something that somehow falls ‘outside the scope’ of this same outcry over mas surveillance.”


Read more at:

Dad, we could change the world.


My dad is not modest because he lacks respect.  He’s called me into conversations through open bathroom doors while he takes a dump.  This is neither modest, nor respectful.  He taught me not to respect myself, and I confess to billowing from a few spaghetti straps myself, in lifetimes past.
Being forced to answer questions…crystalizing thoughts.  Doug Casey
Vibration Love:
We wouldn’t have to touch, but if we did,
We wouldn’t have to merge, but if we did,
We wouldn’t have to move, but if we did,
We wouldn’t have to think, but if we did,
We wouldn’t have to talk, but if we did?
We wouldn’t have to touch, but if we did, we wouldn’t have to think.
 “You’ve got to take advantage of these politically caused distortions to speculate.  By speculate, I don’t mean gamble.  To speculate is to position yourself to capitalize on the politically caused distortions in the marketplace  If we lived in a free-market society, which we don’t, it would be very hard to be a speculator.”
“Dollars are hot potatoes.”
If we touched, we wouldn’t have to merge, but if we did,
we wouldn’t have to move, but if we did,
we wouldn’t have to think, and we wouldn’t.  We wouldn’t have to talk, but we would,
because we wouldn’t have to talk.
“I’ve always said the dollar is an IOU on the part of a bankrupt government…the Euro is “who Owes You” on the part of a bunch of bankrupt governments…”  (Casey)

I’m guessing your puny place in Toronto to be worth about a million.  I’m likely wrong because I am very poor with numbers.  I can’t possibly understand a trust fund that would pay my bills there, but I think I’d like the remainder in some kind of metal stock.  It’s kinda family tradition, and I don’t know much about it since I quit studying money about 15 years ago.  I believe Doug Casey to be right about many things.


It’s like God is giving me documentation of everything I ever said to you.  It’s fun. Sometimes I want to write you another love letter.   You wrote them to me…long ago.  Has a woman ever romanced you, Dad?  Someone who knew you better than you knew yourself and loved you anyway?  Me neither.  But, you and I could do something important to change the world.  I know you tried to have me killed and I love you anyway.  Isn’t that worth 1.4…or 1.5…whatever God said.  My tastes are simple.


“It costs a lot to make a person look this cheap.”  (Dolly Parton)

“There is an immense danger in My children retaining their sin in the face of
the outpouring of My Holy Spirit [the former and latter rains]. For if they have
made a heart decision to do so, then the ground they allow the Evil One to stand
on, will cause them to cower in the presence of My Spirit, and because of this they
will run away from Me instead of to Me.”     (Timely, true words of prophecy through Glenn Jackson)

“My bondservants and handmaidens [faithful sons and daughters] shall ride

high on the crest of the wave of this outpouring of My Spirit [the former and latter
rains] – in order that all might truly see My face, and come to know My heart and
character.”  (I’ve had visions of this…man I could tell you stories if you weren’t a chicken-shit.)

“Lord, I want this and I’ve always wanted it!  Make me pure and holy and reveal any falseness in my life so I’m ready to SURF!  Let me meet some people who fear you and are not afraid in your presence!  I have no family, friends, nobody…but you have lots of people and I can’t wait to meet them!  I have no money, but you own it all!  Come, Lord Jesus, COME and overwhelm us with truth and love!  Amen.”

” I, through My

bondservants and handmaidens, shall set forth great examples of “divine
prosperity” and “divine restoration” in those lives which are based solely on My
Word; for I say to you that those who have put My Word first place in their lives
shall discern all things correctly in this final hour, and will not be deceived in
ANY way.”

-Read more here:

Text to Dad, 10/10/13

“I think maybe Dunc and Pat took our shovels when you were helping me.  (2011)  We picked up a deer off the road and George is burying guts.”


OK, that didn’t work.  Here are some other texts I sent to my father:

“Dad, they raped me over and over and you paid for it.  You’ve never even pretended to care.  How can you believe you will not die for that?”


“That was not a threat, merely an observation of God’s cause and effect.  I didn’t die.  Guess you already considered that.  Being a fraud is better than being a murderer.  You’re welcome.”


“Once it was considered the right thing to do to admit you were wrong and strive to improve upon whatever personal failing was responsible for you trying to slip one past the distracted hordes.”

“The stench of hypocrisy and craven self justification is worse than that of the garbage pits around Guatemala City.”

“When you have lost contact with your essential being, due to selling your soul for a mess of pottage and… your false self is now in the driver’s seat, the effect you want is for anyone and everyone to think it’s still you, cause that lends an appearance of veracity to the actual lying sack of shit you have morphed into. It doesn’t happen overnight. It’s like losing your hair.”

“Devil says, “I’m here to cut a deal with you. I am prepared to make you the most powerful agent in town and all I want is your soul and the souls of your wife and children.” The agent looks at The Devil and he sits there thinking for a moment. Then he asks, “Okay… but what’s the catch?”   (Bob)   “When you are an irreversible shit, what you should do becomes what you won’t do and this results into you cornering yourself in an indefensible position.”

-More at


His home number is 906-586-9653 and his office phone is 906-586-3814 and his cell phone is 906-298-0055.  Call him “Bob”.

DHS target practice sheet. Any questions?


Here’s how my dad took my house, it was about a year and a half ago, before he knew I could not die.  (I kept notes):

Bob:  “Linda, will you sign this deed to the house where I installed your Easy-bake oven in 1964?  When you’re dead, it will belong to my grandchildren, rather than your widower.”

Linda:  “Sure, Dad, whatever you say.”

God says I am diligent and responsible, creative, consistent and kind.  He says that nobody has a problem with me, who does not have a problem with him.  He says I am an extraordinary woman in that I will fulfill everything he ever planned for me.  That should not be sufficient to make one extraordinary in the eyes of our creator.  It is however, insufficient to make me even tolerable, in your eyes.

You lost.  I told you it would be this way.  Take your medicine.


2 thoughts on “Notes to/about my father (who still won’t talk to me)/page closed 12/7/13

  1. While many traffic psychologists came into the labboratory and the researchers had not
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    from two to two years to complete2. It’s really important
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