SCIENTOLOGISTS IMPERSONATE FEDERAL AGENTS

SCIENTOLOGISTS SOMETIMES IMPERSONATE FEDERAL AGENTS AND POLICE. I SUSPECT THAT THEY'VE BEEN DOING THIS SORT OF THING IN THIS NEIGHBORHOOD FOR QUITE SOME TIME. I BELEIVE THAT THEY HAVE ENTERED MY FAMILY'S HOME ON ONE OCCASION WHEN I WAS IN CALIFORNIA. THEY CAN BEAT THE HELL OUT OF ME ALL THEY WAN'T BUT THEY'VE TAKEN YEARS OFF THE LIFESPAN OF MY UNBELIVABLE SAINT OF A MOTHER WITH ALL THE STRESS THEY'VE INFLICTED. I'M SAYING THIS NOW. THERE GOING TO TRY SOMETHING.)


I just walked outside (it's nighttime) and noticed a tiny red light dot within 2 or 3 hundred feet on the left and right sides of our property, on the left side oddly, the tiny red light dot is visible through an area where lots and lots of Trees were cut down for no reason.
Phone rang a couple of hours ago. No one on the line. Star 69 callback #1 201 242 3771


1/25/07 I mention elsewhere in this Blog that I believe that I have been implanted with a chip that enables scientologists (in my case they were) not only to track me anywhere on the globe, but to fire sound directly into my brain and even read my thoughts to a certain degree my gauging my reactions to certain words or experiences.

This is why victims of scientology believe that their bodies are inhabited by thetans. They are bombarded with voices transmitted directly into their skulls. These people usually kill themselves when they reach their breaking point. Scientology has been pushing me to my breaking point for many years. I believe that my suicide attempt at the Shangri lodge was brought about by scientologists who put me into a trance whenever I went to sleep and did whatever they wanted to me.

The very private neighbor who ended up dead (referenced elsewhere in these postings) was probably victimized by the same practice. There were Police on the scene when the body finally stank so much that one of the niacin advocating scientologists around me called the police. They may have been scientologists or Police owned by scientology.

This is something that could be confirmed. Sooner or later the world will see that I've been telling the truth. When I talk about the President, Globalization, or whatever connection my ordeal may have to a larger movement is speculative, but when I talk about what happened to me and who was responsible, I'm telling the facts.

I speculate because the people who did this to me were worried. I speculate because I know that there is such a connection to such a movement. It's possible that Scientology itself is just a front for something larger and more sinister.

They believe that satan is the real hero of the bible story and that he must destroy Christ. The Mexicans haven't reached this OT LEVEL yet, so they don't realize that by the time they receive that information they won't be such good catholics anymore. One of the reasons I was attacked was for playing "sympathy for the devil" on easter Sunday. It was my way of celebrating separation of church and state.

Speaking of which, any scientologists in any level of Governmental or civic employment must be removed from office immediately. My concerns about scientology's ties to our government came very suddenly alive when I remembered that Sonny Bono was a senator. That should never happen.

They are not a religion and none of this makes any rational sense because were dealing with a large group of people who are brainwashed. If brainwashed is not the correct word than join me in my search for a better one.


Scientologists are altered. They have been tampered with. This concept is not something that only exists in fiction where it belongs. It's real. It was done to me.


I have a strong intuition that both Mel Gibson and Michael Richards were set up by scientology to lose their tempers and expose their naked racism. It's possible that scientology has brainwashed me and altered my mind so that I would hate the illegal immigrant population.


It's impossible not to confuse what I've been saying with racism. I am frustrated beyond belief and I'm angry at the people who did this to me. I feel it is beneath me to cite examples that support my claim of not being an actual racist according to its classic definition. At this time I offer no apology and no forgiveness. I'm telling the truth and I'm allowed to feel however I must until this business is finished, and it will be finished, because nothing will ever stop me.
I urge everyone to do their own research. I found out that there's a name for people who believe this. They are called I.M.P.s.(IMPLANTED MIND PEOPLE) and most of them are as frightening to me as I'm sure I am to the average person.


If this belief is the product of any kind of Psychosis I will be greatly relieved. I've read that it's nearly impossible to detect or remove these chips. Bullshit. The people who developed this technology can detect it. The people conducting these experiments on prisoners, mental patients, homo-sexuals, and Pot-smoking Cal-Arts drop-outs all over the world must be able to detect it. The people who sold this technology to the scientologists must know something about it. Sooner or later someone will have to talk.

Weather the chip exists or not is less important than the fact these people, myself included, were unwitting subjects of behavioral experimentation. These people are usually killed or unfairly diagnosed as paranoid-schizophrenics. I don't how long these experiments have been going on. I don't know that scientology is the starting point. I do know that these experiments are real and that these people are telling the truth.

I may be the most respectable I.M.P on the planet, because I have not been diagnosed as a paranoid schizophrenic and scientology's attempts to kill and/or recruit me were un-successful. Also, I've managed to hold onto 3 close friends. That has to be a record.


Look at what Bush and Cheney aren't telling congress about domestic spying. Did the scientologists get it from our Government? Can Halliburton answer any of my questions? Does the Government work with scientology the way past administrations have worked with the mafia? Compared to Scientology, the Mafia is a utility company. Terrible things are happening in our world, and they can all be stopped by knowledge and information. Seek information. Ask questions. Ignore advertisements.


We don't have to live in a clichéd post apocalypse devoid of personal liberty. I tell you this:

I don't think it's a coincidence, that the 911 terrorist attack, the Mexican invasion, domestic spying, high cost of Gasoline, THE KINGS HIGHWAY (big fucking mistake. Read all about it,) and Scientologists trying to kill me and almost succeeding all happened during the term of the absolute worst administration the united states of America has ever seen.


These are not just conservatives. These are not merely fellow Americans with whom I disagree. These are truly awful people. These are ridiculously unscrupulous people. If you insist that I'm insane and that none of the things I'm saying could possibly be true, than you are a fool. We are experiencing an un-predictable future. We couldn't have predicted it, and now we can't believe it.


Jeb Bush publicly apologized for calling scientology a "weird little group". Scientology has a main headquarters in Clearwater, Florida, where Jeb Bush is governor. Jeb Bush is married to a Mexican woman and has a half Mexican son who's political aspirations are very clear.
His brother George Bush is President of the United States and illegal Mexican immigrants are being allowed to overpopulate this nation to a degree that has greatly reduced our overall quality of life and destroyed the economy entirely as far as poor Americans are concerned. No one's concerned about them. Believe me.

Scientology exploited the huricane katrina disaster by showing up and performing heroic gestures. Its wonderful that these people got help, (did they? Their rights are probably being stripped away by Scientology right now.), but getting help from Scientology is like Getting help from Ossama Bin Laden. Scientology may be the real Bin Laden. Scientology may be the reason that the president of the united states and F.E.M.A.were completely unprepared for a disaster that was forecast on everymajor news program well before it arrived. Another group of "heroes"that arrived on the scene were Mexicans. * Bronston corrected me. They were Mexican Soldiers! Mexican soldiers have not been on U.S. Soil since the 1800s.

Comedian George Lopez refferenced the heroism of these gallant Mexicans while onstage at comic releif 2006. After this he said nothing about the disaster, which the program was meant to raise money to provide relief for. He talked about immigration. He talked about why we should let Mexico have our country. "For four bucks an hour we not gone wash it too!" That four bucks an hour is sent right Back to mexico. That 4 dollars an hour is Mexico's #2 source of national income. That 4 dollars an hour belongs to an American worker who doesn't have a Job because Mexicans have invaded his country and robbed him of the right to work for minimum wage.


Minumum wage was created for a reason. Money is life and death. We don't have the space or economy to allow this to continue. This is an attack on America. I'm quite certain that George Lopez is a part of this Revolution. This is not a healthy Revolution. This is a terrorist attack. Scientology is a terrorist organization. Are my views really so irational? It's possible that my mind works too well. It's possible that you reader are affected in conspiracy in some way. Even advertising today is a form of soft mind control.


Religious assholes are always sure they know what's best for everyone. They tell people what to do all the time, and intelligent people don't listen to them. Maybe they've decided to make us listen. Don't let them in. Don't give them anything. Eventually they will eat each other.
Many years before this invasion, George Herbert Walker Bush was known to take long trips in Mexico looking for lawyers. He was head of the CIA before he was vice president to Reagan.

Film critic Roger Ebert was recently replaced (He's in the hospital) with a beautiful Hispanic woman who was clearly placed on the show for the purpose of advancing the political agenda of the George W. Bush administration. She gave thumbs down to an animated-fantasy because two of the ghastly villains were based on W and his father George Herbert Walker Bush.
She even went so far as to say with an expression of deluded condescension. "Can't we leave politics out of movies? Is this how these people feel about people who maybe have different political beliefs than they do!?" No! We can't afford to leave politics out of anything while we live in these conditions. They should base one of the ghastly villains on a vice President who shoots someone in the face. Everyone says it was an accident, but why? Look at this war profiteering ghoul and ask yourself its really safe to assume that someone being shot in the face was an accident. It isn't.

She also rated other films based on how well the writers, filmmakers and actors behaved according to an extreme right-wing Christian value system, with no consideration or appreciation for the artistry ,craft, storytelling, or how well the filmmakers communicated their own personal beliefs and ideas. Her co-host was clearly uncomfortable. Groucho Marx said that a paranoid man is a man with all the facts. I may not have all the facts just yet, but according to Groucho, I'm not paranoid either.

There's a lot going on here and it's got to do with Bushes, oil, Saudis (like Bin Laden, the guy who killed 3000 people on September 11th 2001. Anybody remember him? We should do something about that huh?), Globalization, Scientology, mind control/brainwashing, and Mexicans at the forefront of a complicated almost non-military invasion and take-over of the American power.

This is the poppy field where many liberals like me fall asleep forever. I say almost non-military, but I want to point out that this movement is fascist, exclusionary, violent to the point of barbarism, and completely intolerant of any people, ideas, or even abstract concepts that do not conform to a very narrow and rigid religious program. It is an attack. It is an invasion and it should be resisted and fought against like any other, perhaps even more so.
I'm talking about a truly non-military and preferably non violent resistance. It won't be easy though. We'll have to shut down those Trojan piñata bus lines that have smuggled millions of Mexicans across the border with the intended purpose of over-running America, and make them take those same Mexicans home at their own expense. Then we'll talk about how they pay the American people back. By the time the American people win a supreme court case against scientology there may be enough collective wealth for Black Americans to get something akin to 40 acres and Mullatto who ain't so crazy.

I was awakened by a chip being fired into me. If you can't believe that this kind of technology could exist and would be used on an art-school drop-out Hollywood pot head than by all means consider it a metaphor, because even if it were a metaphor it would be no less true.

I hate to have these ugly suspicions, certainties and half certainties within me. It's a filthy business from start to finish. It's hard to believe and I'm often tempted not to believe it myself, but the evidence is over-whelming. It's all over this blog. One such detail is the timing of my supposed breakdown coinciding with my progress on the screenplay about a character based on Cruise. I couldn't shut up about it.


They had me under surveillance. They saw my friends and I shooting another film which they might have mistaken for my Paul Roam movie. They had to do something about me right away and they did. There were lots of people that were pissed off at me when this happened. Most notably, every Mexican in Hollywood except for the folks at Tommy's on Hollywood and Bronson. We always got along didn't we?


Why me?
Because I was all alone all the time.
Because they had access to me while I slept.
Because they had keys to my apartment.
Because ZEK LIGHTNING's number 1 and don't you forget it!
"who?"
ZEK LIGHTNING! ME!


By the way:
To all the critics who reviewed my C.D. "Mirrors to heaven and back again."
I recorded that C.D. in the Shangri-lodge during a heat wave with a dead guy down the hall. I was surrounded by Scientologists. I don't know what they were up to back then but I did try to kill myself, and everything was an epic struggle.
I love that album. It's 100 percent non-theatrical and as I look back on it, I can say that I succeeded in creating music that could not be described as entertainment or even escapism, but none the less offers the listener a lot in exchange for his or her attention
These bastards have been in my way for so damn long that I haven't been able to get anything done. I'll be out performing new material soon. It won't be easy.

*Craig M.C. and the Delusions of ADEQUACY popped up on "Nancy's" friend list in the top 8 on her MYSPACE page almost immediately after I added this.

One of the great thinkers, I'm pretty sure it was Aristotle said that the quest for knowledge begins with admitting that you know nothing, or something to that effect.

Our President is conducting an illegal domestic program and he and his vice President refuse to tell congress. They refuse to tell the legislative branch of the government what they're doing with our rights. If congress isn't being told...then brother......we don't know a damn thing.


I'm not claiming to know anything except what happened to me, and even in that realm there are questions. There are weeks that I can't account for. There are 3 or more weeks of waking up in the morning as if I'd had a restless night going about each day as if nothing was wrong until strange people started hanging around my apartment and things became painful and frightening.


My friend pointed out that I'd been awake for weeks. I don't remember lying in bed all night for three weeks. I remember going to sleep and waking up. I went to the emergency room. I was experiencing sleep deprivation. If I hadn't come home, if my friend superman hadn't answered his phone I would have died. If I wasn't asleep during all those nights, then what was I doing. What was happening to me? Where was I? This where my answers lie.
I'm not saying that I know everything. I'm telling you what I do know. I'm asking for camaraderie, friendship and understanding.


I haven't been destroyed. My life is gone. My world is gone. I still have 3 friends. I'm not supposed to have any. I'm supposed to be dead, institutionalized, or serving protein-deficient cuisine at Tom and Katy's wedding. People are meant to think that I've seen too many films and read too many comics.


If this story is similar to comic book and movie plotlines, than this is done deliberately to discredit a person like me trying to state his case. "You saw that in a movie!"
No one can ever read too many comic books. It simply is not possible. Anyone doubting the medium should read Allan Moore's "V for Vendetta" in the open back of a pick up truck heading west on route 40 into downtown Baltimore. You will be able to look outside at the world from inside a comic book panel after this experience. It's all too real.


While I'm on the subject:


Sometime in 2003 or 2004 VICE magazine ran a racist joke involving a photo of a Black Hollywood street freak in a long black coat and sunglasses. The caption read : This is why black kids should not read comic books. That shit pissed me off then and I'm still mad. If the individual responsible would please step forward for a moment I have a message to you from me:

Fuck you! Compared to me you ARE the nigger. My father was a Black kid who read comics and by the time I was born they were stacked all the way to the ceiling. Classic late sixties early seventies marvel. These comics coincided with the civil rights movement. Professor X was based on MLK and Magneto was Malcolm X. This is all damn hip. This is why white-trash shouldn't write for major publications. I'd be willing to bet that the street freak in the photo had absolutely no knowledge of any war between the kree and the skrulls. Compared to me, you ARE the nigger.


God it feels good to get that off my chest. I'm so unbelievably tired and frustrated. I hate stupidity more than anything in the world. I'm surrounded by it, struggling against it, constantly, all day everyday. Something's got to give. That's enough for now. My legal name is Christian Walton. My real name is ZEK LIGHTNING and it has been since 1991. The only friend who calls me "Christian" is Superman. ZEK LIGHTNING is my name. I invented it. I earned it. I own it, and that's the truth.


I've never said this before in my life. I've never wanted to say it. I'm ashamed to say it. I AM PERFECTLY SANE. I may be eccentric. I may be Neurotic. I may be the biggest asshole on the planet. BUT I AM PERFECTLY SANE. WHAT HAPPENED TO ME WAS NOT SANE. What happened to me is very complicated. If this belief that there is a chip inside my body somewhere is the result of any psychosis, it is a deliberately induced psychosis brought about by bombardment with aural signals, sleep deprivation and whatever else these fuckers did to me.


I just remembered another person. A girl. A brunette. I overheard her whispering something to her boyfriend about setting me up to get evicted at the Cinerama dome on sunset Blvd.(a movie theatre.) I was already well into their experiment and must've been experiencing 2 and a half weeks of sleep deprivation at this point, though I didn't know this at the time. Anyway I got freaked out by what she whispered to her boyfriend (A Mexican) and left the theatre before the film (the exorcism of Emily rose) even started and she called the cops on her cell and had them circle me all the way back to my apartment as I walked home still holding an untouched bag of popcorn. I also spotted Vicente the meatball thief coming towards me moving south down either vine street or Gower. Bear in mind that I had no idea what has happening at this point, just that I didn't feel well. I knew something was wrong. I describe this event in greater detail in a piece of writing I've yet to make public. Anyway I realized later that day that the girl from the Cinerama dome either lived in the same building I did, or was staying there with her boyfriend. I saw her get out of a car and enter the building on Carlton way that evening. She was definitely involved. I would describe her as a fairly attractive Caucasian female with slightly in-bred features. High cheek-bones and prominent eyebrows. Skinny. She definitely knows something. 5922 Carlton way. I don't know her name.


1/2707 *I might as well make that piece of writing public now. I wrote this when I was convinced by others that what I'd experienced was a delusion or the result of a nervous breakdown. I was run out of Los Angeles again after being kicked out of my sailboat and cornered into getting another apartment owned by E.G.L. properties in a building just a few blocks south of my last one. 3 months later all hell is breaking loose just like in 2005, only this time I haven't been kept awake for weeks and the experience of leaving is a great deal more civilized.

I still haven't talked about me and Superman being marooned at the Knoxville Airport where I had to restrain myself with all my might from moving, speaking, singing and acting as if I were Dean Martin. When I exited the Plane I performed a Hollywood-style military salute to the flight staff in exactly the same manner as Dino in his "Hooooold it!" back and fourth with a valet in "Oceans 11"

Part of their experiment involved using my interests and hobbies to determine whatever it was they were trying to determine. After a certain point they were doing it just to amuse themselves. At different times they made me think that I was Dean Martin, Batman, or Daredevil, but not to the extent that they they were fully realized delusions of any kind. I woke up one morning feeling that I had supersonic hearing like daredevil. This is the morning after I was implanted with a chip. I felt like I had supersonic hearing because I could hear everyone and everything around me. This when I began to hear snatches of conversation. They were usually people talking about as if they were watching. The first voices I heard were definitely Mexicans speaking English.


I went crazy trying to figure out where these sounds were coming from. They were either transmitted via a chip that was implanted or simply aimed at my head from a short distance. This is called aural satellite something or other. I don't the technological details. This is the only thing other than an actual chip that could cause a person to believe that they were implanted.


I had A RAT PACK concert DVD that I played constantly. It was a Dismas house benefit T.V. special from the late sixties with Johnny Carson filling in for Joey Bishop. I played it all the time because it soothed me. I had comic books lying everywhere. These people were entering my apartment when I wasn't there, poisoning my food, Using my AOL Account, Deleting messages, and gathering information such as my checking account and social security numbers.


Anyway, as you read this, bear in mind that I had dismissed the idea of having a chip in my head when I wrote this. A smart young girl who read it mentioned how she had a hard time believing I could hear what the cops were saying as they circled me. What I was hearing may not have actually come from the cop car. They called the cops for sure, but they may have been transmitting snatches of conversation to make me think I could hear the cops. They really fucked up when they turned me into Batman. He's the worlds greatest detective. I woke up feeling as though I had a mystery to solve. I still do, but in many ways I have solved a great mystery.

I know exactly what happened to me and I know exactly who was responsible. As far as weather it was Mexicans or Scientologists, its Mexicans who happen to be Scientologists and Vice-Versa. Allan is in fact Caucasian. His son is Mexican.


As far as whether this is Mexican/scientologists or "Domestic Spying" as deemed humane and absolutely necessary by the bush administration. It has to be the Scientologists. I'm not a threat to the United States Government (at least I hope not.) , But I have witnessed occurrences that could hurt the Church of Scientology. I did curse at them whenever they handed me pamphlets. I did say "You're in a cult founded by a failed sci-fi writer to a Scientologist who asked me to sign a human rights document the day of a Fugees concert in Downtown Hollywood, and of course there's Carlos.2/5/07 *When I found out that the Mexicans who showed up to save the day along with Scientology during the hurricane katrina disaster were soldiers, I becan to see more clearly what was happening. Our Government has been breached.

Scientology is Domestic Spying. Scientology Is The war in Iraq. Scientology is responsible for the 911 terrorist attack. They have breached our Government. They can make anything happen now. We must remove them from our Government. All we need to do is replace them with all the good people that were driven out of the white house since Linda Trip shoveled the first bits of coal into the engine of a shit-train that carried us into this present day nightmare.


Sorry....here's the piece of writing. It needs to be tightened up a bit so please bear with us while we renovate. On with the Hollywood Renaissance. Read on:

(from 'Daybreak at bloom in the valley') *the voices are Mexicans speaking english.


"Yup he has a glass pipe in there!" "That's right that old lady called the cops on him!"
Can't afford to get arrested, which means I can't afford to waste any time. I hid my JAZZ in a plastic grocery bag filled with garbage in a corner of my kitchen on top of the trashcan, stuck my JAZZ pipe up and my ass and left the premises immediately.

Had to get my ass to nature, three blocks north to the Mount Hollywood road. I knew my way up and down the mountain backwards, even wild back roads that were a little bit dangerous. There are lots of patrol cars in Hollywood. I have no choice but to assume that they are already following me, waiting for justifiable cause for suspicion, which won't be hard since I haven't had a proper rest in so long.


Time for the acting exercises, they're all I've ever been taught after all. Loosen the Jaw. Release the tension. Turn your legs into wheels by way of uncle Artie's kinesthetic visualization. Initiate from the center and spread your arms to allow your lungs to take in more air. Keep the walk a natural walk. See that officers, I'm a disciplined artist taking a brake in the park. Hiking is great exercise for those of us who must always be responsible and alert. My first trick was to turn the port-a-potty in the park parking lot into my tar baby by entering and remaining inside too briefly to have done anything but drop my pipe into a pool of blue sewage. They would look for it while I ascended the mountain faster than anyone could follow me, slipped the JAZZ pipe into a snake hole and covered it up with dirt until it was even with the rest of the ground. It was gone.

The procedure had taken about six seconds. They had missed it. I was still being watched and they were waiting. I was halfway up the mountain when their frustration began to show.


"He always walks like he has a crack-pipe up his ass!"

"He knows something's wrong."

"I'll bet right now he thinks he's the ultimate secret agent."


That's right asshole. I'm a secret agent with supersonic hearing. I'm also the world's greatest detective. I thought I was hearing voices in my head for a while, but I'm actually hearing other people. According to the Internet, supersonic hearing doesn't even exist. I need to get grounded.

I've taken this hike a million times and in the process fulfilled the wishes of every big titty bartender in Hollywood, not to mention all da high falutin Jew broads who wouldn't gimme da time a day back in high-school. It was a high road to enlightenment and a solid tactile reassurance of almost everything that made life worth living. I even exchange such greetings as "Hello" and "Good morning" with fellow hikers. Something about loving the mountains and trees makes folk vote democrat, least it seems that way ta me. Anyhow we all gets along on the mountain here.

Not today. I'm being fucked with something serious and I trust absolutely no one. I tried to convince myself that I was paranoid and went out to see a film. There was a neighbor at the Cinerama dome with her boyfriend a few rows down from me. She identified me to her boyfriend and began to whisper. I could hear her! Something she said was drowned out by the laughter of some fat Linda Tripp a few seats over. But I discerned. "…Get him kicked out. ………Until he figures it out"


I got up immediately and mechanically placed popcorn kernels into my mouth as I walked briskly down the carpeted stairs and past a flustered usher. I heard her say "Oh shit!" as she pulled out her cell phone.


The police cruiser pulled up beside me immediately as I exited the theatre, eating popcorn as though I was shoveling coal into the belly of a locomotive. I could hear the police officers as they drove by. I had to get home. I didn't feel right. I was tired. Something was wrong. The cops drove by a second time and I looked directly into the eyes of the officer in the passenger side. I know that I know that you know that I know officer. I'm nuts but I'm not going to bother anyone. Leave me alone…please leave me alone. "-Well now he's getting hostile!" I heard. It's amazing what I'm able to hear.

When they drove by a third time I knew they'd follow me home and then knock on my door asking questions.


"Fuck you ass-crackin monkeys. Compared to me officers, you are the God-damn niggers and you'll never get me." I spoke softly as if humming a song to myself.


They heard me.


If I'm going to collapse, and I feel like I might, I'm gonna do it on the beach in Malibu. Using all of my Acting exercises, I sat down on a bus stop bench using the same mannerisms and gestures I've observed in well adjusted human beings and people with jobs, continuing to eat popcorn as I reached into my right pocket for a dollar 25. The cops drove by again. "-Looking for bus money" I hear this time.

Sure enough they were back after another four minutes and 25 seconds. When they drove by for the fifth time I knew they'd given up. Not because I'd fooled them into believing that I was a well adjusted human being who posed no danger to himself or others, but because they got the message. I know that they know that I know, and now they know that. They also know I'll sit here until I know they are gone, or I'll take the bus when it comes and leave their jurisdiction. Now that the dialogue was complete, it was safe to get up and go home.



( I added this part as a note to myself. Might as well include it.)



I may have stumbled onto a secret network of Mexican immigrant scientologists who joined the church after answering an add that said, "now hiring". They were tested and put to work as peons in the fake bookstores and recruitment centers. The church set them up in cheap apartment complexes all over Hollywood and brainwashed them to brainwash other people. They watch people, follow people, and study patterns. When they have enough information they begin the process of sleep deprivation by gathering outside the Target's apartment. Working in shifts to bang on the walls every ten to twenty minutes and keep the freak awake until they break his spirit. Etc.