Current News | Introduction | Colloidal Silver | Chemtrails | Sylphs | Emerging Diseases | Forbidden Cures |Ozone | Immunity Boosting | Nutrition | The CIA
Project Superman, Part 4
A Victim of the Illuminati's 'Super-Race' Projects and Montauk Experiments Speaks Out
By Michael Andrew Pero
Archive Posted Oct. 27, 1999
The lab instructor grabs a second case out of the hall. It's black, looks identical to the other case, only smaller. He opens it and it has boxes of bullets in it. He places five or six bullets on this little slotted plastic tray, grabs one of the guns and proceeds to walk down to the closest shooting station. It was a movable divider type wall (like the kind you see in office cubicles) and had a small ledge about a foot wide on it. We were only about ten yards away from this hanging paper target (the kind with a black silhouette on it). The instructor then proceeded to tell me to do exactly as he instructs. He tells me to load the clip, insert the clip into the pistol, enter a round into the chamber, step up to the line on the floor, envision the "red dot" on the targets forehead and chest, raise and stiffen my arm like a "steel beam", slowly squeeze the trigger, repeat until all the rounds have been discharged, step back, remove the clip from the pistol, discharge the last cartridge from the chamber, place the clip and the pistol on the ledge and then take two steps back. He says "do it now". I walk up to the ledge, load the clip, insert it into the pistol, load a round into the chamber, step up to the line, raise my arm and fire all the shots at once!.
BLAM!BLAM!BLAM!BLAM!BLAM! step back, remove the clip from the pistol, clear the last round from the chamber, place both the clip and the pistol back on the ledge and take two steps back. This all took place in probably under 10 seconds.
I did all this just like I had done it a thousand times before and like I knew it like the back of my hand. The instructor comes by my side and starts lecturing me about squeezing "gently" on the trigger and how to shoot my rounds "one at a time and in control". I have tuned him out as I am only focusing on the small crowd which has now gathered around the target within a matter of seconds, and there seem to be mixed reviews about my "performance" and a large amount of discussion is going on. It seems I had hit the target exactly in the center of the head, but only once. Finally, Adolph walks back and stands in front of me. "Rhino" he says, "Why did you shoot the target once and then deliberately waste the rest of your rounds?" he asks. "I didn't" I answered.
"Rhino, there's only one hole in the fucking target, now answer me, WHY DID YOU DELIBERATELY MISS WITH THE REST OF YOUR ROUNDS". "I didn't" I answer, and at that point I remember a feeling of such pride, and such arrogance. A feeling that I had never felt before. This feeling overwhelmed me and I could not help but smile, and as I stood there I stuck out my chest and in the cockiest demeanor I could muster I answered "LOOK AGAIN!!!".
Adolph is looking at me with this sort of puzzled look on his face and turns and walks back to the target. He moves people aside and looks at it, he turns and looks back at me, then looks at the back of the target. He takes three steps towards me "Rhino, there's only one.." "LOOK AGAIN!!" I yell.
He walks back to the sand bags and the group follows. They are looking for the bullet holes. I am watching as all eyes are scanning the wall of sand bags. I hear "here it is" and I see one of the lab instructors stick his finger into one of the sand bags. There is still puzzlement and confusion amongst the group. They can find only one bullet hole. Finally, I see the man with the white hair pull out his pocket knife and cuts into the sand bag. I cannot see what is going on as the group closes around him, but all of a sudden I hear this ROAR of approval from the crowd, and Adolph emerges from the crowd with his hand out stretched and something is on his palm. He approaches me and there is a small pile of bullets in his palm. "You shot all your rounds through the same hole didn't you?" "Of course? It's what you told me to do?" I answer. And as I answer the ROAR erupts again.
I remember standing there, feeling very proud of myself, yet at the same time feeling very puzzled. "What are they so excited about?" I was asking myself. To me, it was as easy as taking the cap off a ball point pen and putting it back on really fast five times. Simple, a child could do it. What was all the hoopla about? I had absolutely no clue.
For the rest of the night I repeated this from all possible distances, angles, and firing positions. I was so fast with the firing procedure they had five or six stations all set up and I had to wait for them to examine the results and reset the targets etc... I would load it, fire it, remove the clip or spent cartridges, place everything back onto the shelves exactly as I had the first time and move onto the next spot. I was in heaven, ever since the fifth or sixth grade I had been really into all the "really cool" stuff that you weren't supposed to have as an upper middle class kid (in total secrecy from my mother of course). Chinese martial arts weapons, Chinese throwing stars, numb-chucks, brass knuckles with spikes etc.. My mother hated, and I mean hated guns. I was not allowed to have ANY toy guns as a child whatsoever, no BB guns, no toy guns, not even any plastic guns. I wasn't even allowed to play like I was shooting anyone (cops and robbers, cowboys and Indians) when I was a child.
When Atari came out, my mother hated even the idea that I was shooting something in a video game (space invaders). As a result, she simply would not allow me to play certain games and she would not allow me to have them (I would play them anyway just over at a friend's house). When I was in high school and Nintendo came out, she would not allow me to buy the plastic gun which hooked into the game so I could play "duck hunt" or some police game. When we would go to buy games she simply said "it's my money and I will not buy that game for you." I wanted "the road warrior" or something and she wanted me to get "tennis" or "bass fishing" "you used to love to go fishing" she would say. She really was something.
With my father coming back from Vietnam a different man and having severe mental anguish about what happened over there and the whole experience, and after what happened to Mr. Johnson, I can't really blame her for her gun hysteria, I can only try to understand.
BUT ANYWAY, here I was, a 19 year old kid and all of a sudden I got to fire all these these "really cool" guns, and they had all this "really cool" stuff like knives, killing wires, night vision goggles, and all of these ADULTS were running around as fast as they could for ME. Running around, changing targets for ME, getting ME a sandwich or a drink and they all seemed so eager to do something for me, anything, anything I asked, anything I wanted they would run and get for me. They seemed so impressed with what I could do, I sensed they envied me, I also sensed they feared me. I felt like a celebrity, and I felt like a king.
All of the shooting took only about an hour or so I would estimate. After the first round, they never told me any of the results. All I remember is the atmosphere had a feeling of elation, euphoria, exuberance, everyone had these HUGE smiles on there faces, laughing, and admiration. Honestly, as we got further and further back, I don't even know if I was hitting ANYTHING! All I remember is raising my arm and firing the pistol. I COULDN'T THINK, I COULD ONLY DO. I would just fire the pistol at the target, step back, and they were always for some reason happier than pigs in shit.
The thing is they liked me. If the atmosphere seemed "light", I somehow found myself suddenly speaking and making comments for no particular reason. When I spoke everyone would freeze and listen. I liked this fact, I liked it very much. I would make comments like "Should we be wasting all these bullets? There very expensive aren't they?" (my mothers' mother, the very frugal Grandma Angrstrom coming out of me). And they would all start laughing hysterically.
I remember Mr. Green saying to me with a tear in his eye from laughing so hard "Rhino, you can shoot as many god d*mn f*cking bullets as you want. It's on me and I'm buying. Shit! I'll get you bullets by the f*cking truck load if you want." I said "Really? Are you sure cause that can really start to add up!" and they all burst out laughing again.
After that comment is what I most remember specifically about this whole episode. I remember watching Mr. Green as he turned to someone in a long dark overcoat and saying "I f*ckin like that kid.. I f*ckin like him! I like how he thinks! as a matter of fact" and he turns and motions the man with the white hair and black leather coat over to him and a few others join him. The man with the white hair then says "Rhino, come over here." I walk over and he says "Rhino, let me first tell you that you did an outstanding job, and as a reward we are going to send you home early tonight. I want you to go home and get a good nights rest, you've earned it." I said "awesome, thank you very much." Mr. Green then pats me on the back and says "outstanding son, f*cking outstanding!" This was the first time Mr. Green had physically touched me and I remember the "eerie" feeling I got and the "chills" that went down my spine as he removed his hand from my back. I walked over to the wall and picked my coat off the floor and followed the two men who always drove me out to the car. Then I remember being in front of the dorm and I actually said "good by" to the two guys and went inside to bed.
Most of all I remember the proud feeling of amazing them with my shooting even though I don't know exactly how I did it. I remember the feeling of being "honored" with a reward because I could somehow do things none of them could do. And most of all I remember the "eerie" feeling of Mr. Green touching me. He had always been there and I had seen him many times, but for some reason now in my mind he finally had become all too real. If that makes any sense?
After that they then instructed me with rifles, more pistols, basically every practical thing that shot a bullet I was instructed in how to use it, clean it, shoot it, and kill with it. And as soon as the instructor was finished I instantly knew it all like the back of my hand, like I had done it a thousand times before. I remember feeling the differences between the M-16 and the AK47 as I shot them. Shooting small semi-automatic weapons (like an Uzi only different). Then asking me to remember which weapons I personally liked the most.
They converted the longest hallway into a target range since it was the longest stretch in the facility, by placing sand bags all the way at one end and blocking off all other door ways and hall ways along the way. I would estimate it was about 70 yards + or - long. Indoors, this shot seemed very distant. They also had converted the original range to have these "pop-up" targets, as well as moving ones which ran along this miniature track. The targets would come out of this temporary wall, go across the line of sight on the track and then disappear into the other wall, and they had tracks going at different distances, coming to and going away etc. For the next while it seemed that all I did was shoot. All the other experiments seemed to have been put on hold. The exercising, the brain games, the puzzles, the punching bag, everything.
I could hit ANY target still or moving, at ANY range, with ANY of the guns in the exact center every time. Except for some reason I remember having some trouble with the semi-automatic type stuff, because the gun was not designed for accuracy it was designed for speed. So it would fire so fast the distribution pattern just wasn't accurate enough. And by not accurate enough, I mean instead of having one bullet hole in which all the spent rounds would pass through in the exact center of the red dot (which the targets now came with already painted on), the semi-automatics would basically just eliminate the entire red dot which was the size of a half dollar if I emptied the clip in one burst. This was basically still an unbelievable bulls-eye and show of marksmanship, but it was not what they wanted. They wanted every bullet through the same hole every time, all the time. In the exact center of the red dot, no exceptions, and no excuses. So they backed off using these guns for the time period.
At close range, I could do this without any problem; I would estimate under 20 yards. The further I backed away, the larger the single bullet hole would become. As I backed as far back as I could go on the long range (60 or 70 yards), the bullet hole had gone from being about the size of a "dime" to being about the size of a "quarter". I remember after I shot they would gather around the target at the other end and then yell for me. I would run down, and see one hole the size of a quarter in the red dot on the head, and this "rush" of pride would run through my body. But when they spoke to me it was not praise, they were screaming at me with criticism. "WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS, YOU CALL THAT SHOOTING, GO BACK AND DO IT AGAIN, AND I WANT TO SEE ONE HOLE THE SIZE OF A DIME NOT THE SIZE OF A FUCKING GOLFBALL. DO YOU UNDERSTAND." I would have to go back and do it again. I remember some improvement but then I would worsen again. They sent me home early anyway to get some rest. They were pushing me and my limits. Yes I was doing incredible things but they wanted to see just how far I could go and just what I could do.
The helmet of knowledge-
Everything was going very well with my conditioning and my training. Mr. Green and Adolph seemed pleased with my progress. Until we began shooting outside. It all seemed different now. With the cold air on my face I felt more "awake" and more aware of what was going on. The pistol no longer felt like an extension of my own hand. It felt cold and seemed to be heavier now. When I shot as the distances got greater and greater I became worse and worse and began to miss. And by miss I mean being on the edge of the red circle not in the exact middle, hitting the black, missing the black but still hitting the paper. My "automatic adjustments" for wind and distance didn't seem to work very well if at all. One night it was very windy and raining and I was missing the red dot, and I even missed the target all together a few times. This is with a pistol (I think it was, or was very similar to a Baretta). They bring me back inside and give me an "ass chewing" about my very poor performance. They send me back to the lab where I do "simple things" for the rest of the evening. Like the squat rack, more brain puzzles, strength exercises etc.
The next night as I'm walking into the lab, Adolph instructs me to follow and we proceed to a room that I had never been in before. It is like an empty class room, there are green black boards on the walls up at the front, one green black board which can flip around and is on wheels off to the right and one student desk in the middle of the room. That is all. They tell me to sit and I do. I become very nervous as I'm thinking they are going to test me or something and I haven't studied. A man in a baby blue lab coat walks to the front. I do not recognize him. There is a nervous tone in his voice as he begins.
I have no idea what is going to go on as this format is all new to me. He begins talking about angular trajectories, muzzle velocities, and how air densities are measured verses altitude at sea level and this then equates into a friction coefficient equations to measure the angular trajectory of a projectile! And he goes on and on. "HOLD IT" I speak out. "Can I have a pencil and some paper to make some notes?" I ask. For the next while I'm frantically bent over the desk and trying to write down everything he is saying and copy the diagrams he is drawing on the board like I'm in class back in school. After a while Adolph walks over to me and says "Rhino, do you need a break?" "YES I need a f*cking break" and I slam my pencil down and put my head between my hands. "Are you getting all of this?" he asks me. "NO" I answer, and I remember starting to cry "I'm trying, really I'm trying, but I DON'T HAVE A F*CKING CLUE ABOUT ANYTHING THAT HE IS TALKING ABOUT!". We take a break. I'm very nervous about having to go back into the room. I had gotten a "D" in algebra in high school and they are talking about stuff I had never even herd of before, and they want me to understand this stuff, there is no f*cking way I'm thinking to myself.
They call me back in and for the first time I felt sort of "scared". Not over where I was, who I was with, what they did to me in the lab. I was scared about letting then down. I was scared because I had convinced myself that no matter what happened I could not do this. I was never a good student in school and this stuff, forget it. There was just no way!
As I sit back down I'm looking for the man in the blue lab coat and he is no longer there. It is only the man with the white hair. He says a few words and I become relaxed and I close my eyes. I hear him. He tells me to "just relax" and "just sit back and absorb like a giant sponge, just absorb everything." I hear the instructor begin speaking again and this goes on for a while. I hear Adolph ask me is any of this sinking in?" and I shake my head and answer "NO" and open my eyes. As I open my eyes I look to my right and see the man with the white hair and Mr. Green speaking to each other in a fairly loud tone. Not arguing but clearly annoyed. I put my head in my hands again and then stand out of my chair and yell "HOLD IT, I have an idea!" I was so proud of myself. The man with the white hair comes over and asks "What's your idea?" with this cautious look on his face (I remember his look of caution). "take me to my LEVEL, take me to my ROOM. I have an idea!" "What are you going to do?" he asks. "PLEASE, JUST TAKE ME TO MY ROOM" I say. "Rhino" he says "I have to know what you are going to do." "I'll explain everything in a minute! Just please take me to my room, trust me, you're gonna LOVE this!" I said.
When I opened my eyes I explained what I had done in my special room in my mind.
What I had done was this. In the main room of my mind (the big blue room with the 20 foot ceilings), on the far wall, was the circuit breaker for my nerve endings (like the fuse box in your house). This device allowed me to turn my nerves on and off at will mentally just by flipping the circuit when needed. Next to that was the adrenaline valve which allowed me to turn on and off my adrenaline flow to my body. It was simply a thin copper pipe which came out of the wall , came down and went back into the wall again with a valve in the middle of it like the main water valve in the basement of your house which controls the water flow coming from the street into the house (the same thing only I was controlling the flow of adrenaline and not the flow of water and it was for control of my body not for control of the house). Allowing me to turn my adrenaline gland on and off at will. Next to it was the fear switch. It was this big old fashioned circuit breaker type switch which was chained in the "off" position with a "DO NOT TOUCH" sign on it. They had ALREADY conditioned me to install these devices back in "room 101" and this is how I had configured them in my mind.
What I did was, next to the fear switch, I created this big metal box.
It was my own personal super computer which was connected directly to the root of my mind, the root of my essence, and the root of my soul. Any information that was entered into this computer would become instantly part of ME, and part of my soul. The computer had unlimited memory and unlimited speed. It was the fastest and most top secret computer in the world. The information will go directly from the source to the core of my essence, like writing in stone but with a blank slab. My mind now is open for all instruction and there is unlimited space. "HOW DO WE ENTER THE INFORMATION?" The man with the white hair, Adolph asks.
"That's the best part" I say. And I proceed to tell them that what I have done is created my own lab in my mind. It is a new room located next to the healing pool. And in this room there is nothing but the biggest and most comfortable reclining black leather lazy boy that can be made. Next to the lazy boy is a small wooden stand. On the wooden stand is the wonder of my creation, I call it "the helmet of knowledge". It is a football helmet, but there is no facemask. On the top of the helmet are wires which run through the helmet and connect to little metal conductors which touch my skull when I put the helmet on. There are also goggles (like ski goggles) which have the metal probes around the temples and eyes. The wires run from the top of the helmet and then are bundled into this one inch thick gray ìsuper conductingî wire. The wire runs from the helmet out the doorway and back into the main room. Then over to the wall and hooks directly into the front of the super computer.
The information then is transferred into the super computer. The super computer then processes it and sends it out the back wire (which is identical to the wire from the helmet). The information goes out the back wire and goes directly into the blue wall, directly into ME. "SO EXACTLY HOW DO WE ENTER THE INFORMATION?" The man with the white hair asks again. "Don't you get it! All I have to do is lay back and relax in the chair and put "the helmet of knowledge" on with the goggles and ANYTHING you want me to understand you just have to speak it! It's like writing computer code on my brain, AND THE BEST PART IS ALL I HAVE TO DO IS LAY BACK IN THE LAZY BOY BECAUSE IT'S ALL DONE AUTOMATICALLY!..PRETTY F*CKING 'COOL' ISN'T IT!!!!!" The man with the white hair and Mr. Green just look at each other and from the expressions on their faces, I knew I had just blown them away. And like an idiot I sat there feeling so f*cking proud of myself for thinking of the helmet of knowledge, and for winning the game and outsmarting them again.
I had given them a way to insert ANYTHING they wanted DIRECTLY into the core of my brain. This could not be undone, and this could not be changed, and this could not be disobeyed. They could now write the code of my existence anyway they wanted to, and they could now tell me to do anything and I had no choice but to obey. This was going beyond hypnosis, and complex suggestions and conditioning. This was giving them a blank screen and a keypad to rewrite the core of my essence.
After explaining the helmet of knowledge though, I hadn't told them everything. Not out of fear of them or because I was trying to hid anything from them, it was simply because they never asked. They never asked about the back up system I had also installed in my mind. What I did was I had split the thick gray wire after it left the helmet of knowledge and I rerouted the second wire to the second super computer I had created. I was thinking "I'll probably screw something up sooner or later" so I made a back up copy and the back up systems for ME to hide my screw ups from them, just in case.
What I did was I placed one of those fold out lunch tables directly IN THE HEALING POOL (I had to expand the room and the pool for this but since this was my mind, I could make the rooms and the pools as big as I wanted so I gave myself plenty of room within the room within my mind (if you follow). Anyway, I then placed the second computer (the back up) on the table which was in the healing pool, and ran the wire through the pool and the water. In essence what I had done was created a totally self sufficient independent circuit for the back up system and I also hooked the other systems to the back up system (the fear circuit, the healing circuit, the adrenaline circuit, and the pain circuits) and ran those wires through the pool as well. So if anything happened to the main room or the main computer, I would ALWAYS have a "back up" copy of everything.
Even if the main room was somehow destroyed or damaged beyond repair the back up computer would kick in. AND if the back up computer became damaged it would fall off the table and right into the healing pool, thus automatically regenerating itself, and thus automatically regenerating the main room again as well from the copy stored in the back up computer which can never be destroyed because it's over the healing pool, and if you try and destroy the healing pool, one, if not both of the computer's would regenerate it anyway. The only way to destroy everything was to destroy both computers and the healing pool at the same time, but since I didn't tell anyone about the backup they would never know to do this.
Of course, just in case, I made a door for the healing pool room that was indestructible and would automatically close within one millionth of a second if I pushed the panic alarm (which then of course had to be wired into every room along with the panic buttons themselves) or the door would close the millisecond any damage occurred to the main computer. There was also a super secret third computer which I hooked up to the back of the back up in the healing pool room. I then instructed the blue wall (which is the actual walls of my mind, the whole room is my mind if that makes any sense) to reach out and absorb the third computer. To hide it somewhere, and this was just between me and him. And the blue wall reached out like the blob and took the third computer and stuck it some where. I honestly really don't know where it went. But I do think it's part of the reason I can still remember these events today.
After I had explained the helmet of knowledge to Mr. Green and Adolph, they placed me under again to try out the helmet and the instructor begins again. When I open my eyes the man with the white hair asks how I feel and my response I think was something like "It's all so simple, it's all so clear now!". They immediately take me out side to the range and I remember walking to the 100 yard marker, loading my pistol and firing the entire clip in rapid succession, unload the clip remove the last cartridge from the chamber and placed them both on this little stand next to the marker. Mr. Green and Adolph start walking toward the target and tell me to follow. They are walking so fast that I have to hurry as to not walk too far behind. As I look ahead there is a man in a baby blue lab coat already up there looking at it. When we get there they stop on front of the target and I cannot see what I had hit. They part and Mr. Green says "That's better but I want that hole the size of a f*cking dime! why isn't that hole the size of a f*cking dime?" and I look at the target and there is a hole right in the middle of the red dot on the forehead a little larger then the size of a quarter (almost enveloping the entire red dot).
As I am looking at the target I stand tall and stick my chest out. I have no idea exactly what I said but it just seemed to flow out of me without me thinking about it. I said something like "a non uniformity in the casing of the bullet of one thousandth of an inch in combination with as little as a thousandth of a gram of powder deviation per cartridge results in friction loss and deviance of muzzle velocity and this when multiplied over a distance of 100 yards the result is a deviation of the projectiles path of 1/8 of an inch up to 3/4 of an inch depending on air temperature and wind velocity at the time of discharge, SIR." Again I have no idea what exactly came out of my mouth but it was the physics equations the man in the baby blue lab coat was trying to teach me in the class room. "Go back and get your gun" the man with the white hair instructed me. And as I am jogging back to the marker I look back over my shoulder I see them talking. I feel nervous, I get my gun and run back. As I arrive I hear them laughing but as I get closer the laughing stops. Mr. Green tells me I have shown improvement and he sends me home for the night. I can tell he was pleased.
What I didn't know at the time was the helmet of knowledge turned out to be a major breakthrough. After that, anything they wanted to put into my head, they could now do directly into the core of my brain with ease. They even got me a black leather recliner to lay in when I was laying in the one in my mind using the helmet of knowledge.
Run like a cheetah-
After they got me the chair, I was a different person. It's difficult to explain, but until then, all the experiments and all the training was like walking in a dream. Whatever they told me to do I would just not questioning it at all. Not thinking, just doing. Now for some reason, it was like riding in someone else's body. If that makes any sense? Seeing what's happening yet you cannot move. Being sort of aware what's happening, yet having no control to stop it. When they told me to do something, I would object but have no control to do anything about it. On the inside somehow, I would be screaming "NO, you bastards I won't do it" but couldn't stop my self. I would raise my arm and fire the pistol anyway, or crush the skull of a cat with my bare hand that was a hydraulic vice with unlimited power; if that makes any sense.
I don't know exactly what they did to me, but I remember suddenly being able to "run as fast as a cheetah", as fast as I needed to run. Being able to "leap like a gazelle" and easily being able to traverse any obstacle with ease. Having the feeling of being a "puma" as I stalked my victim with patience, stealth, and cat like reflexes, totally camouflaged in the tall grass yet patiently waiting for the moment to pounce. Of course, also being able to "climb like a monkey." Any object, no matter how tall or smooth, I can figure a way to get up there. Without any hesitation and without any fear. They instilled these attributes directly into my mind and into my personality using the helmet of knowledge. Anything these animals could do, I could do, only better, because I was "the Rhino", unstoppable and undefeatable. I could ANYTHING, ANYTHING they asked me to do, I could do, because the perfect killing machine was "THE Rhino". And for some reason I was very proud of this fact.
I remember riding in a car on a very lonely road. There are fields and groups of trees on both sides of the road. It is night and there are no other cars or people to be seen anywhere. The car stops and they tell me to get out and start jogging. As I began to run, I remember the head lights coming up from behind me and the sound of the engine suddenly bursting forward with power, as I hear the car coming to run me over. And then the "rush" would kick in again. That feeling of running for your life, when your heart starts to pound and the adrenaline starts to flow. When the instinct takes over and you don't look back, you get tunnel vision, and all you think about is faster, faster, faster. I don't know how fast I was running but I remember them yelling from the car "Run Rhino, Run like a cheetah" and afterwards I hear their jokes about how they should put me in the Olympics and bet money on me because what I was doing was not "Humanly impossible".
Again, I don't know how fast I was running when they were running me down with the car, but when I was back on the sixth grade soccer team at 12 years old the key to my success was my speed. When the coaches video taped the games (with a Beta camcorder) they told me, and I saw that I had a 6 yard stride at 12 years old. Then, as a senior in high school watching film, I had over a 9 yard stride. When I tested in football BOTH senior year in high school and freshman year in college when I ran the 40 yard dash BOTH times the coaches made me run it again because the times must be wrong. "Something must be wrong because that's not right" they would say, "that's not possible."
In high school, the coach thought I was cheating and only running 35 yards and he made me run it 5 times. Even as the other kids ran in between my runs when I got to the line and ran my time he would run back and accuse me of cheating and running from the wrong line. Even with the other kids swearing that I wasn't cheating he called the whole team a bunch of liars. Finally on my sixth run, and after I had "felt" myself getting slower (given up mentally and after the most important thing in the world to you, the football coaches approval, tells you enough times that you cannot do something, you finally begin to believe it), he gave me a time of 4.85. A time which he was satisfied that I could run and that was the time he gave me (he was a real ass-hole).
This was the first day of football camp senior year in high school. Coach Doug Parcells (who is the younger brother of Bill Parcells who is currently the head coach of the New York Jets) had taken a physical education teaching position at a Ramsey elementary school and then was also going to coach the offensive and defensive line for the Ramsey high school football team (this was in 1987). As he arrived as a new coach going into my senior year in high school during the summer weight lifting workouts, he was amazed at my strength. In the fall as camp ended and the season began and repeatedly asked coach Hyman (he was the ass-hole who had benched me and tried to throw me off the team for telling him "don't worry coach, everything would be all right between you and your wife." This was when he was being an ass-hole to everyone in the school two years earlier, and called the whole team a bunch of liars refusing to believe my 40 time, and wouldn't even tell me the times I was running, he would just call me a cheater and tell me to run it again and when the steroid trial came he was there and never said a word in my defense).
"Why isn't Andy a captain?" Parcells asked. He's pound for pound the best blocker I've ever coached, and he's the best defensive player I've ever seen. And the smugness of Hyman finally reared its ugly head. Parcells tried to tell Hyman that he recognized that I had a certain mental condition (of course, the name escapes me). Where when some kids growing up have such superior abilities to all the other kids in a given area whether it be sports, mathematics, or musical talent [a "savant" in French-Ken Adachi]. These kids have such natural abilities that for some reason they can literally "blow any one else away at will" but they don't because they want to be liked by everyone else. They want to "fit in" and be like everyone else. They want to have friends, and not have everyone jealous of what they can do. So they unconsciously don't do their best, they can do much if better if they really wanted to, but they don't. He recognized this in me almost instantly when everyone else for years would give me the cold shoulder from Hyman's verbal slander over the years.
It's funny because when coach Parcells was talking to the Penn State Football staff about my football abilities, he also said to them "You have to be very careful what you say when you are around Andy, because anything you tell him to do, he literally will do to the letter and I mean to the letter, and if you give him some kind of unsolveable problem, days later he will come back and blow your mind with some kind of a solution. So you just have to be careful what you say when your around him."
The same thing happened in college, when I ran my first 40 at Rochester, as I crossed the line the coach said "run it again Pero, because you sure as hell didn't run that time" AND AGAIN THEY MADE ME RUN MY 40, FOUR TIMES BEFORE GIVING ME A TIME 4.89.
Having a coach run back to the goal line to watch my start, and after I ran I would have to turn around and do it again because it just didn't make any sense. The point is I already had speed, and with the conditioning in my mind I became so unbelievably fast it was supposedly not possible. They chased me in the car several times and the one time Mr. Green was in the car and after we had stopped and everyone got out, I remember them talking, and the gist of the conversations were "do you f*cking believe that?" and I remember Mr. Green personally saying "that's f*cking unbelievable!" Which gave me great satisfaction. Again, playing the game, I had won again.
The Assassin Rifle-
It was daytime and they bring me to this huge long field and tell me that we are going to be having "rifle practice." I was deadly, the M-16 up to 400+ yards, and my pistol 100+ yards. The rule of thumb they gave me was anything over 100 yards I was to shoot with the rifle and aim for the chest, 100 yards and under I could use the pistol and aim for the head. For some reason I preferred going for the head with the pistol. These two numbers seem to stick in my head as far as distances. Anyway, they always seemed disappointed with my rifle shooting for some reason.
When we get to the field, they open the trunk of the car and there are 5 or 6 of these "cases" and as I stood there and watched them open these "cases" and inside are these huge rifles, and everyone starts assembling them except me, I just stood there. I knew what those things were used for. Assassinations was the only answer. Somewhere inside me I said "there gonna want me to kill someone" and I knew that if I shot well what other answer could there be? And thinking to myself "I want no part of this you f*cking sons of bitches". AT THAT MOMENT IS WHEN THIS ALL WAS NO LONGER A GAME TO ME, I FINALLY REALIZED WHAT THEIR INTENTIONS WERE.
I became filled with panic and wanted to run away but I could not move. I wanted to scream but could not. The lab coat guy who instructed me initially in my weapons lesson, starts to explain to me about these high powered rifles. After about a half an hour, they have me choose one and have a target setup about 1200 yards away. I think they did some "prep" work using the helmet of knowledge because as soon as I saw it I knew what it was and how to use it, the half an hour was basically just a review.
After all the prep work, I began shooting. I would shoulder the rifle, line up the cross hairs and fire the weapon. When I shot the weapon I began missing, and by missing I mean missing the target all together. Mr. Green gets in my face and starts screaming to do better, I cannot do any better, and he gets in my face again. I tried to explain to him why I couldn't shoot the assassin rifle. I explained to him that when I shot the pistol or a "regular rifle" that I didn't aim with the gun, yes I would shoulder the weapon but I aimed with my mind not with the gun sight. I had to see the target with my own eyes and then I shot automatically with out thinking. With the assassin rifle the key to it was this huge scope, and when I looked through it, it was somehow different, and I said that I was sorry but I just couldn't do it!
To this day I have never seen a grown man throw such a temper tantrum. He was absolutely livid and freaking out with rage. And he gets in my face and begins to scream at me again. "I'm sorry I just can't do it!" I answer. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CAN'T, YOU CAN'T IS NOT IN YOUR VOCABULARY!" he screams. I just stepped back "I'm sorry I just can't do it, that's not how it works" and I proceed to go back into how I aim with my mind not with the gun and he cuts me off "F*CK! now what are we going to do?" and the four or five men gather off to my right. The thing is as I stood there and I could not move and I could not speak without their specific instruction. But I was thinking to myself "I was right! I was right about the gun" and I wouldn't say it was fear that came over me, but it was more like panic. "I was right! I was right about the gun" and when they came back over to me the man with the white hair makes me look him in the eyes and he asks me "are you sure you can't shoot the rifle?". I knew that if properly induced I could have come up with something by using the helmet of knowledge, but somehow and from somewhere inside me I found the strength to hold my tongue and I answered "YES, I AM SURE"! He accepted the answer and went back to the group. I felt a surge of power as I had fought back somehow and won. We pack up and get back in the car and start driving. That's all I remember about the assassin rifles.
After the assassin's rifle didn't go as they had planned, I don't think they quite knew what to do with me. I remember getting on an F-16 jet at the Rochester airport. I remember this because I am not one for amusement parks (the spin rides make me sick to my stomach). When I got on the F-16 the pilot checks to see if they have strapped me in and he tells me to "Hold on to your butt" and we get immediate clearance to take off. He hits the throttle. Let me tell you if you know the feeling of acceleration you get when a 747 takes off. Imagine that feeling 10 times more powerful, easily. It was like being strapped to a runaway jet rocket. My stomach never caught up to me as I had left it back on the run way. The pilot is yelling "YAH HOO" and starts to do some "S" turns. That's when I lost it. I threw up all over my self and the whole inside of the plane. I have never seen someone so pissed off as the pilot was at me for throwing up in the plane.
We land some hours later on an air base somewhere. The terrain is South Western (desert with some hills and mountains, and some cactuses growing on the ground). The next thing I remember is being introduced to a group of men. It was some kind of covert team, about twelve men they had on black t-shits and camouflage pants. They had set up the exact same course that I had run back when they had killed the girl. As of yet, no one had been able to come close to completing it. The man with the white hair tells me to take off my shirt and to start doing push ups. Then to start on the course. I cannot make it up the 90 degree vertical climb (the first part). The man with the white hair goes and gets a gun and threatens to shoot me. That is when the "rush" kicks in. And I scurry up the obstacle and run through the course. I even do the jump without any assistance ropes, and land on the thick mats they had set up. The key to my abilities was not the hypnosis, it was when I felt my life was in danger, then my adrenaline would "kick in". I would then get the "rush" and the "tunnel vision". This, when in combination with the army training and the hypnosis, is what made it the deadly combination.
They trained me in all the different "Hand to Hand" killing techniques, schooled me in everything and I knew it all the first time "like the back of my hand." They tried to work me into the "team" as one of the members. I remember training for a specific mission. My role was to get up this 90 degree obstacle to the fourth floor balcony and secure a rope for the rest of the team to then climb up. I remember practicing it over and over again. But when it came time to run the mission the army had built the obstacle out of 6" logs, when we got to the building it was made of smooth black marble. This gave me some trouble, but I got up it eventually. Once everyone was up the rope, then we went inside. I don't remember what we were after, but I do remember shooting a guard when I wasn't supposed to. I saw him coming closer and I shot him. I guess I endangered the mission and the rest of the team. I COULD NOT THINK, I COULD ONLY DO.
After that I remember several more times getting into the F-16 and getting out, but no trip in the middle only getting in and getting out. I think they put me to sleep or something after I had thrown up the first time. I remember it being night, cold and snowing in Rochester and waking up on an aircraft carrier in the middle of the ocean where it's warm and sunny. Then, I believe they would send me off on the mission and then have me back before the weekend was over. In actuality, they could have done this at any time because there is no attendance policy at the University of Rochester (at least the classes I was taking at the time) and no one would have missed me if I had "disappeared" for a few days. It is actually quite clever because they could have flown me, theoretically, almost anywhere in the world in 12 hours by F-16, I wake up feeling "totally refreshed" like I had slept for days, I go off for four hours and do my killing, and then they put me back on a plane back to Rochester and have me back in 30 hours.
After I had "screwed up" the first mission, from then on they sent me in alone. I remember spending countless hours in the "helmet of knowledge" going over and over the mission. They put every detail into my head.
I REMEMBER them telling me that I was to go and kill this man. And I would not do it. I said "what has this man done to me personally, Nothing! I will not kill him!" They would come back and say that this man "kills women and children, that he tortures young girls to death and then rapes them, he murders babies and he butchers grandmothers for fun! You must kill this man to save the people that he is killing! He is evil, and must be stopped and only you can save the people of his country from him." That was the only way they could get me to kill, was to tell me that this man was a butcher and how he did awful things to the people around him. After they told me that, I had no choice, it was like they made me feel like it was my duty and the whole world was depending on me to do it.
I remember completing several assassination missions. I don't know who they were, how I got there, where I was or why specifically I was doing it. I remember shooting several people in the head several times, stopping to reload and shooting him some more. They had told me to "terminate with extreme hostility" and I did. The thing is I COULD NOT THINK I COULD ONLY DO, so all the planning and all preparation work would go out the window if something went wrong, if something didn't go exactly according to plan then "all hell would break loose". For example if there were four guards at a certain point and there were only supposed to be two. Or if an area was supposed to be dark and it was light. Some how I would "snap" and just start shooting everyone. Everyone became the enemy and I had no way of distinguishing between who was foe and who was friendly. I remember one time when my helicopter came to get me, they had a spot light on me and I started shooting at them. I think I killed several of my own people.
They tried to fix this by giving me a helmet camera and an ear piece but still I freaked out at some point on all my missions. I specifically remember asking them "How many missions do I have to run before you will let me go?" The man with the white hair told me "10 missions Rhino, after you run 10 missions you then become retired and we will let you go."
I can only remember going on 4 missions specifically. One of which as we were flying away in the helicopter after they had picked me up, one of the men who had volunteered to be the gun man on the helicopter was shot and killed from the ground. He was the man I had pushed out of the tank of water back in the lab, and the only one who had been "Nice" to me at all. These "assassinations" were all done (I think) between the years 1988 and 1992. The FBI is looking currently for me but the Illuminati have deprogrammed me, "erased my memory" if you will. As I slowly regain the scraps of my memories more and more of the pieces fall onto place. However, as the story unfolds I will add most of the reverent details at the end as not to complicate the two parallel time lines.
I clearly remember the complexes, the types of uniform the men were wearing (some wore business suits, some had turbans on their heads, others had these funny hats on), and of course I remember shooting many of the guards and several of the "target" men in the head several times and stopping only when they had no head left to shoot. Then I would just get the "hell out of there" shooting everything in sight that moved. The problem was I didn't know when to stop, who was "friendly" and who was not, because I had my "tunnel vision" on. I was just running, running for my life. I could not think I could only do!
All during, and especially at the end of my freshmen year, I remember Brian giving me a lot of grief about what I was going to do with my semester breaks. He would ask me where I was going and what I would be doing (Thanksgiving break, Christmas and Easter breaks as well). When it came time for school to end he kept after me to stay up in Rochester. He told me that him and some of his friends were getting a house and I could stay "rent free". "Don't go home" he would say. "This is your new home" he said. I told him I was going home to New Jersey and no thank you. The thing is a always remember my mom's friend "Astrid" always being at our house at some point when I came home from college. She would always ask me "So how do you feel" and I would always tell her "fine".
I worked 12 hour days that summer painting houses, and I was living with my mother in Ramsey New Jersey. But still I worked out as best as I could.
September 1989- (Sophomore year)
I am living in the Fraternity house as my place of residence for my sophomore year. I had broken up with my long time girlfriend of 7 years during the summer. About six weeks into sophomore year I meet "Carrie Savage". She is a junior at Rochester. She is in the top 5% of her class and is a Biology and German major. She is a pre med. student. She is half Polish and half German. She is also a German tutor, and teaches German on the side for extra money. She had spent a year overseas in high school in Germany and her mother had sponsored a German student (who was Carrie's boyfriend when she was over there) for a year in their house.
She comes up to me at a party, and we start to talk, I ask her out to dinner. As it turns out she has a very mean streak in her and when she drank she became very nasty (her father was as alcoholic so when she drank she became a very mean drunk).
During this year I remember several trips to the airport and there was a F-16 waiting for me. I remember getting out of the F-16 one time and it was just about time for one of the semester breaks because the Rochester airport is very small and only has a few gates. As I walked off the tarmac into the gate, some girls who knew me were yelling to get my attention and I walked right by them with two men on either side of me in long overcoats. Not even acknowledging their presence.
I don't remember very many more "Lab" episodes during this time, that doesn't mean that they didn't occur. I just don't remember them, but I do remember going to the airport a lot. And getting in an F-16 jet and getting out somewhere else. Whether it be the "Other" facility in the South West, or on an aircraft carrier I remember getting out in these two different places. I also remember some friends asking me "where the hell have I been the last few days". This question came up a lot that year.
I remember my friends Nick and Bob were telling me "Andy, who is fucking with your mind. Andy, are you all right, tell us who is messing with you? ARE YOU OK?" Then I remember walking into my fraternity house, and as soon as you walk in there is a big room right to the right (called the Wilson room) and the whole fraternity is facing me and the man with the white hair has a little shiny ball in a string and is swinging it back and forth right in front of them and they all have a blank look on their faces. I stop in the hallway the man with the white hair tells me to just go up to my room, and I do. After that everyone seems normal and no one said a word about it.
I remember asking Nick and Bob if they remember the conversations we had had about me and they didn't remember a thing about it.
I go home to New Jersey during the Christmas break. I needed to earn some money so I am looking through the local paper and there is an ad for a parking Valet paying $10.00 - $12.00 an hour. Down at the Ho-Ho-Kus Inn. (a 5 star restaurant owned by a group of local Doctors). The ad said to send of fax resume to Dr. Purizzo and it gave a phone and fax number. It immediately had caught my eye (the money) and then I saw Dr. Purrizzo's [i.e. Joseph P. Pizzurro's?] name and I thought that I could get the job. I NEVER ONCE thought about the steroid trial. It never even entered my mind.
I fax over my resume and a cover letter to Dr. Purrizzo. And about a day later he calls me. I ask him about the job and in the sweetest voice he says to me "Sure the job is still open Andy, come on in for an interview, how about tomorrow about 1:00? Do you know where my office NOW is?" I said that I did not, so he gave me directions. The next day at 1:00 I am in his office. His secretary calls to tell him that I am here, and I go in to see him. I sit in the high back leather chair and all of a sodden he explodes with anger.
"EITHER YOU ARE THE DUMBEST MOTHERF*CKER ON THE PLANET, OR YOU HAVE GOT THE BIGGEST SET OF BALLS THAT I HAVE EVER SEEN!"
"What the hell are you talking about?" I answer.
He says "DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT I WANT TO DO TO YOU? YOU STROLL IN HERE LIKE YOU HAVE NO FEAR OF ME AT ALL WHEN YO ARE F*CKING MY WIFE UP AT THAT SCHOOL OF YOURS, AND THEN BECAUSE YOU HAVE RUINDED MY CAREER", and he lifts his hand from behind his desk and he has a gun in it.
"Do to me?" I say, "For what? What did I do?"
"Don't even try and play dumb with me, I've been kicked off the board and I'm out of the hospital because of you!" he says. And then I remembered everything, I said "how do you blame me for what you did, don't you EVER forget that you came after me, I was just a kid minding my own business, and YOU wanted to lock me up and cut out my brain just because I wouldn't admit to doing something that I didn't do. THEN you kidnap me and almost kill me with your drugs! As for f*cking your wife, yes Mrs. Purrizzo showed up a few times, but I NEVER did anything with her, I turned her down every time. BESIDES that happened a long time ago, and if anyone owes anything it's YOU owing me an apology and you can start by giving me a job."
He drops the gun and puts his hands on his head and shouts out "This is f*cking unbelievable!..YOUR LYING! YOUR TELLING ME THAT SHE SHOWED UP BEGGING YOU TO F*CK HER AND YOU TURNED HER DOWN! SEVERAL TIMES! AND IT DIDN'T HAPPEN A LONG TIME AGO.. IT'S BEEN 18 MONTHS..ANDY!"
I said "That's correct, I never touched Mrs. Purrizzo at Rochester". Then he said "We'll find out what happened" and he pulls out a little shiny ball on a string and starts to waive it in front of me from behind his desk I get up and say "are you kidding me with this". He pecks up the gun and tells me to sit back down in the chair and to look at the ball. I am out within seconds. I hear him yelling "I GOT HIM" "I GOT HIM".
From what I can remember, he then has me go over to his examining table, and he starts to question me. I tell him that I really didn't sleep with his wife in college, and that I know who did. Then all of a sodden I remember freaking out and yelling "U.S. GOVERNMENT SECRET PROJECT 35765XXXX VIOLATION OF THIS MIND CAP IS PUNISHABLE BY DEATH etc..etc!"
When I leave his office I am sweating and the nurse is looking at me like I have two heads on my shoulders. He calls me two days later and tells me that I got the job. So for the rest of that break I parked cars for Dr. Purrizzo at the HO-HO-Kus Inn.
After the break, the two guys who had slept with Dr. Purrizzo's wife and her friend, the woman with the black hair, show up for lifting one day and they have had the living shit beaten out of them by the Mafia
As the spring comes, Adolph brings me into a room. Mr. Green is there. He tells me that the "rules have changed and that now the rules for retirement have changed. I must now do 25 missions in order to retire not the 10 I was promised. I tell him that "that's utter bullshit and we both know it." It was an obvious attempt to get me to do more assassinations, but I was fighting the programming. I tell him that I have run my 10 missions and even if the rules have changed I still get the old law because the offer was made at the time it applied to me so I get "Grand fathered" in, and if he doesn't like it he can speak to my lawyer. Then he asked me if I had a lawyer and I said "NO" but I would get one for this. And that there was no way that I was going to do any more because I was retired. Mr. Green starts to freak out and he tells me that if I don't do it he will kill me right here and he puts a gun to my head. All I said was speak to my lawyer. Which pissed him off even more. They tried every means of persuasion to get me to go another 15 missions. Every thing from a gun to my head to beatings, to threatening to kill my family. But I would not budge.
Next came the character test. They had been watching me every day of my life from almost the day that I had arrived at the University of Rochester (actually it was since I was age 2), but anyway they were testing me whether I knew it or not. From the close quarters with Gwen, to Gwen wanting to have sex with me, to me turning her down, to how I reacted to this situation, to how I reacted to that situation. They bring me into a dark room. There are people all around me, but I cannot see them. All I can see is a small desk light on the table and a figure behind it. He starts to ask me questions about why I stole Brian's steroids. I knew that I was screwed if I answered either way. If I answered "Yes" I stole them and admitted to the wrong doing would they see it as being honest or would they see it as being a tattle tale, or if I said "NO" and lied about it even though I knew they had video tape of me doing it would they see me as someone who could keep their mouth shut under the pressure or would they see me as being a lier.
So I did the only thing I could in an attempt to escape, my only way out. I answered BOTH WAYS. At first I said "NO", then I changed my answer to "YES" then back to "NO" again, and I waffled back and forth several times until they told me to leave. The man with the white hair then takes me back to my room. He has a smirk on his face as I believe he knows what I have tried to do.
I thought I was out, they couldn't trust me and they didn't know what to think of me, maybe, just maybe they would just leave me alone. As it turns out, they take me into the woods by car ride. We get out of the car and the two men tell me to go over and look over the edge of this huge hole they had dug in the ground. I hear the one man "cock" his pistol. Without thinking or without any thought I leaped back at him like I was a cheetah, grabbed the gun and broke his neck with my hand by crushing his throat and windpipe like it was an empty beer can. The other man starts to run away and I ran him down within a few feet and broke his neck too. I sat down right there next to the bodies and began to cry.
"Why does everyone want to kill me" I kept saying to myself. "I just want to be left alone, I just want to be a kid going to college". I heard the portable phone ring a few times but I didn't answer it. After a while another car showed up, it's the man with the white hair and he tells me to get in the car and we drive off. I'm sitting in the back seat and I look out the back window I see them examining the bodies as we drive off. My realities were starting to blur as my programming began to come undone.
No paper work-
A day or so later, I am back in the dark room with the small lamp, this time they sit me down and discuss with me my options. This time it's a different Mr. Green. A man that I don't ever remember seeing. He told me that I can either cooperate and continue as an agent or they will be forced to kill me as they can never just let me go. I remember making a joke "I don't suppose you will let me go and we will forget the whole thing ever happened?" I said. The man did not laugh at all. I knew they were serious. So I let him have it. "Agent! agent1 I'm not an agent, and I'm not in the f*cking army, I'm a f*cking college kid, who you have taken against my will and done something, so you can go fu*ck your self as far as Iím concerned."
By the look on his face, I could tell that this was news to him. He makes me leave and go into the hall. I can hear intense arguing now going on inside. "WHAT THE F*CK DO YOU MEAN HE NEVER SIGNED THE PAPER WORK! YOUR TELLING ME THAT THIS KID HAS BEEN AN INVOLUNTARY SUBJECT ALL ALONG!. YOU F*CKING IDIOTS, IF THIS EVER GETS OUT" and he goes on and on. I actually thought I had a chance now. They call me back in. The new Mr. Green puts a piece of paper in front of me and tells me to sign it. I start to read it and he bursts in and yells "JUST SIGN IT GOD D*MN IT". I was always told to read everything before you sign anything.
Branton's web site: http://angelfire.com/ut/branton/
|All information posted on this web site is the opinion of the author and is provided for educational purposes only. It is not to be construed as medical advice. Only a licensed medical doctor can legally offer medical advice in the United States. Consult the healer of your choice for medical care and advice.|
Current News | Introduction | Colloidal Silver | Chemtrails | Sylphs | Emerging Diseases | Forbidden Cures |Ozone | Immunity Boosting | Nutrition | The CIA