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Regardless of how this girl was depicted, her innate morality was apparent to
me. She and I were referred to as "minor/mere cats," due to the similarity of
our victimizations. Like me, she was controlled through manipulation of her
religious beliefs and maternal instincts. The delicate rose tattooed on her left
wrist signifying her role in government operations did not detract from her high
class projection any more than Spector's immorality could mar her innate
goodness. Once Arlen Spector officially became this slave's owner, her Charm
School status rose to "Presidential Model".
In addition to Charm School, 1 endured extensive programming to prepare
me for future operations. Houston was often booked into Oklahoma fairs,
Masonic Lodges, F.O.P. Conventions, and so on, in order that 1 be back in the
vicinity of Tinker Air Force Base for further programming. My Tinker-Belle
conditioning further enhanced my photographic memory through direct control
for receiving and delivering government messages which amounted to a
computerized compartmentalization of my brain, so to speak. I was also trained
in covert criminal operations, such as international drug mule transactions for
funding the Pentagon's and CIA's Black Ops Budgets,
Houston's CIA orchestrated travels in the country music industry led me to a
TOP SECRET military/NASA installation at Offit Air Force Base in Nebraska.
The "you can run, but you can't hide" 3 conditioning was deeply ingrained in my
mind there through a technique that was later used on Kelly, as well as on other
mind-control slaves, I was taken underground to a so-called 'secret' circular
room where the walls were covered with numerous screens showing satellite
pictures from around the world. These satellites are referred to as the "Eye in
the Sky". An Air Force official explained to me that my every move "could be
monitored via satellite". On a separate four-screen viewer, he demonstrated
what in retrospect was a contrived pre-recorded slide show, with the scenes
changing as rapidly as he spoke and typed it into the computer.
"Where will you run?" he asked me. "To the Arctic? The Antarctic?
Brazil? The mountains? The desert? The prairies? The hills of Afghanistan?
The city of Kabul? Devil's Tower (Wyoming)? Would you try to run to Cuba
and live among our enemies? We can find you there. There is truly no place to
run and no place to hide. The U.S. Senate (the picture was of Byrd)? The
White House? Or to your own backyard? (My father was depicted waving from
his front door, cupping his hands over his mouth saying, "come back" just like
Aunt Em in The Wizard Of Oz.) "The moon? We got you covered. You can
run, but you can't hide." This had been sufficient to convince me in my
suggestible stale that my every move could be monitored.
During the course of my training/conditioning, I was routinely prostituted to
Senator Byrd in Washington, D.C., at the West Virginia State Fair, NASA in
Huntsville, Alabama, and at the Opryland Hotel in Nashville, Tennessee. One
such night when 1 was to be prostituted to Byrd at Opryland Hotel, Lt. Colonel
Aquino was scheduled to join him in perversely assaulting me. Much to my
horror, Aquino arrived early, in full army dress uniform, backstage at the
Grand Ol' Opry. When I saw Aquino talking with the Vatican based Project
Monarch slave runner, Kris Kristopherson, 4 whom I had known since 1979, my
personality programmed for Opry events "short circuited". Under
circumstances such as this, a multiple without programming would have
switched personalities autogenically, whereas I could only switch upon
command, I backed away, dazed, right into a soft drink machine.
Kristopherson saw me as 1 backed further between the wall and the machine.