Saturday, January 08, 2011

De-Classified: Boston Revealed

Dalton,MA 26 December 2006
I'm back in Mass for the first time in 9 years. I'm staying with my aunt, my aunt's mother, my aunt's husband and my little cousin. I took train down with M from Montreal. I got off at Albany as he continued down to NYC. Yesterday was the first family Christmas I've had in decades.

The vampires have been around the periphery. I felt one last night. They're just checking me to verify that I have indeed arrived.

Things will get intense from today forward. Yesterday was a respite before the difficulties arise. I have absolutely no money whatsoever. Today I must finish up typing my CV's and try to find work tomorrow. I need money to buy my bus ticket to Boston. I must secure some money to stay in a hostel for the first week there.
A fairly productive day. I submitted my application and CV online to the MBTA. I also jotted down the phone numbers of many temp agencies in Boston. My aunt's husband lectured me today about my education. He suggested that I work in social services.

I knew this would be a very difficult trip. I'm confronting my roots. Coming home and back down to Earth. Confronting the reality of who I am. Returning after many years away. Back to the homeland after hundreds of thousands of miles travelled. Back on Terra Firma after exploring the deep vast and outer reaches of space. Back to life. Back to reality. I have some very difficult and serious decisions that I need to make. Paradoxically, I'm returning to begin again.

It's strange being back in the US. Tonight I observed people at the Berkshire Mall. I couldn't nay wouldn't believe that these were my compatriots. It was impossible to concur that these were my fellow "countrymen".

Melancholia afflicts me but not depression. Fear nips at my heels but not terror. It's imperative that I stay focused and positive. My aunt's mother just confirmed the presence of vampires last night. A vampire grabbed and attempted to drag her out of bed. She kicked and fought back. She woke up. It appeared to be a dream but it was very realistic to her. Her account is more than enough evidence that the vampires are present.

My cousin assisted with putting the cross on the strap of my bag. I attempted to sew it on but that proved an impossibility. My cousin applied hot glue to the cross and pressed it on to the shoulder strap of my bag. It's a very powerful cross made by Dax. It's not a crucifix but rather a X within a square with a straight line across it. It's a potent symbol much stronger than the crucifix. A crucifix would never work for me against the vampires. I have no faith in Christ nor do I believe in God. The vampires would laugh at me and would crucify me on the crucifix. I do, however, have faith in Dax's cross. I tested it at home against my flatmate, Allison who's a witch. It worked the perfect charm. I hung it in front of my bedroom door. Allison cringed and left the apartment quickly. So it works.

Allison was the weapon used by Boston to bring me back. She was the arrow used in the bow. Once they had infiltrated my base directly, I had no choice but to surrender it and leave. J is such an ass! It's all his fault. He has lots of negative and draining energy. Anyway, once a witch like Allison moved in, it was obvious that the vampires had found me. I realised that I could no longer hide from them. It became certain that I needed to return to the source: Boston, MA.

In addition to the X cross, Dax gave me Hematite magnetic stones for protection. I feel the protective magnetic force field around me. I'm ready to live my life and find balance.

I'm taking the train to Boston. It takes over 4 hours to get there. Of course, I have to arrive in Boston after sunset. There could be no other way. I'm very nervous about this journey. I'm nervous on many levels. On the practical material side, I haven't any cash nor do I have any idea how I will survive or what I will stay in Boston. I am nervous about the vampires.

Sometimes I ask myself if this is a suicide mission. On the surface, this seems a most foolhardy enterprise: No cash, no accommodation, no friends, no contacts, lots of enemies. It also appears to be a most perfect trap and snare. This is what I do know: The vampires wish neither to harm nor kill me. To the contrary, they want to give me power, sex and money. All they really want is my semen and blood.

Dalton, MA 28 December 2006
Surprisingly, I'm not worried at all. I have 5 days until I leave for Boston. Dalton is relaxing and peaceful. It's best to enjoy the time spent. I will have lots to worry about once in Boston. My body enjoys the change in pace. I'm having healthy and restful sleeps unlike in Montreal. I wake up early and go to sleep early. I'm eating regularly with breakfast everyday. In essence, I'm healthy.
I was more stressed in Montreal than I had realised. Montreal is a passive-aggressive stressful city. It's not hyper-active like NYC or Toronto but tiring nonetheless. I remember what Thibodeux said about Montreal after living there for 4 years. "Montreal gets tiring." He lasted another 2 yeas before he dropped. Jean lasted 6 years before she left. Apparently 6 years is the average life span of people living in Montreal who aren't from there.
It was good navigation to stop in the Berkshires for 9 days between Montreal and Boston. It would've been too much of a shock to have gone directly to Boston from Montreal. Moreover, I was neither ready nor prepared to survive in Boston.
There are vampires and other malevolent spirits in Dalton. I left the cross at the house. I'm sitting in the Mystery section of the public library. There's a reason why I'm here.
I probably would not go to Boston but the compulsion is too strong to resist. I will most likely die there. I will probably disappear in Boston. Truthfully, Boston is a suicide mission. This journey psychologically is an indirect form of suicide. Once I leave Dalton, no one will hear from me again. Most likely I will wind up homeless in Boston. The best case scenario would be to end up in the mental hospital. Ideally, I want to love wit Kim, Sam and Leslie. However, I don't think the offer is valid any more. I really hope to submit to Kim. I want to find a woman to live with and take care of me in Boston. That is simply a pipe dream.
Feeling low and depressed again. Still, I know what I must do. I need to focus.
Kim, Sam, Leslie
Boston Gothic Scene
These are my priorities.
I cannot believe that I'm back in New England!I've returned to Massachusetts.
I'm leaving for Boston on 2nd of January 2007 whether I'm ready or no. I will enter Boston with about $15 in my pocket. Perhaps, I' really mad. Still, this is something I must do.
Just read an email from N. He's worried about me but not showing it. He's most likely curious to what the Boston mission is about.

Dalton, MA 29 December 2006
Descending deeper into obscurity. Travelling further away from friends and loved ones approaching the point of no return. Am I sure that I really want to go to Boston? What choice do I have? there's nothing I can do in Montreal. I can't work in Canada. New York doesn't exist any more. California has no appeal. I have no means to get to Europe, let alone live there.
I'm conflicted about Boston. On one hand, I'm excited and eager to see it. On the other hand, I'm absolutely petrified of my prospects. Is this a suicide mission? What exactly am I going to Boston? What's calling me? What's puling me to go? Let's investigate.
1)Sex is the lowest common denominator. I've had been sexually drawn to Boston. It has always had a strong sexual appeal ever since I was 10 years old. After 6 years of sexual frustration in Canada, I feel the need to return to the origins of my sexuality. Boston is the spring from which my sexuality sprang.
2) Psychic connections to Boston have been present since 1982. This is deeply connected to my sexuality. This is also connected to the T system. The Red Line is the link. The Holiday Inn at Government Center was a few blocks away from the Charles Street Station. The pilot episode of "Spencer For Hire occurred on the Red Line. The novel "Coma" has a lengthy scene on the Red Line.
Red=Kim and Sam
3)Politics always plays a key decision in my return to Boston. It was where I discovered and became deeply involved in radical left wing activism. I need to make a political choice in Boston. Do I become a vampire? Should I join the CIA? Should I become a Nazi vampire? should I enter politics? I can become a CIA asset, a Nazi, a vampire or a liberal politician. However, I have a strong desire to become a Nazi vampire in Boston. Either way, I will meet up with all these elements and decide.

I'm on my own. My failure or success depends exclusively on me.

Dalton, MA December 30 2006

Though I'm in one of the most liberal pockets of the most liberal state in the Union, the right wing atmosphere is very present. The US is an extremely militaristic country. I'm currently sitting in the town care which has on the local rock station. there are lots of ads for military recruitment. On many roadside billboards are ads attempting to enlist people in the air force. One on hand, it's a testament to the fact that the military is not meeting its recruitment targets. It also reveals that the Berkshires as a region with a well educated populace. Since most educated and middle class people don't join the army, the Air Force believes that it has a better chance to recruit here.
On the other hand, the selection of songs played on the radio are nationalist. "American Woman" by Lenny Kravitz, "Small Town" by John Cougar Mellencamp and "Born In The USA" by Bruce Springsteen are used as propaganda. I wouldn't be surprised if this radio station is owned by Clear Channel.
The other night while I was at the Berkshires Mall, I observed the people and the faces reminded me of those I observed in Salzburg Austria.
Kim and Leslie continue to visit me at night. As I lay in bed, I feel small bites on my body. This morning in the shower, I observes small bite marks on my biceps. They appear as two small red dots. During the night, I feel small pinpricks all over my body. Most significantly I feel them on my genitals. Perhaps they are not from Kim and Leslie but rather from local Dalton entities. I really don't know.
Last night I had my first battle with a Nebulan. It didn't take much for me to smash it. I haven't lost and power or strength. Of course this is only a prelude to the bigger fight ahead of me in Boston.
A blonde female Nebulan just entered the cafe. I think she is the one that has been biting me. She is wearing a jacket with a brown poisonous spider emblazoned on the the back. A brown widow spider to be precise. She ordered a coffee to take away. She is the latest young person I've witnessed to wear strange and provocative clothing here. There's no doubt that I'm in New England again.
I haven't any fear of the State or the authorities here. In fact, the police are indifferent and neutral regarding me. It's the vampires and Nebulans I must be aware of. I could never live in this town. If it weren't for this care, I would be bored to tears. Moreover, there isn't any anonymity I can enjoy. The town probably knows about me already. In many respects Dalton reminds me of Jerusalem's Lot. Ironically, I'm probably safer here than I will be in Boston.
It's rather remarkable how calm I am in the face of total uncertainty. Yet, I'm convinced that I will make my way in Boston and find the people I need to.
In Dalton the polarisation between the peaceniks and war supporters is obvious. As is the general polarisation between the Nebulans and vampires. I am on the side of the peaceniks. I want to, out of strategic necessity, for an alliance of convience with the vampires against the Nebulans. The tricky thing, of course, is that the vampires will want me to join them. They need the power of my blood and semen to be strong.
Some future predictions:
1) The train I'm taking to Boston originates in Chicago. I might meet a woman on the train.
2) Kim, Sam and Leslie might be waiting at South Station when I arrive.
3)The spirits and/or my instincts will guide me where to go once I arrive in Boston. I will take the Red Line either to Central Square or Harvard Square depending where my instincts lead me.
In 3 days the course of my life will change dramatically.
I mustn't forget that I'm not alone in spirit. There are dozens of people around the world thinking of me. N is most likely sweating bullets about me. Gen is keeping her fingers crossed. S is sending me positive vibes. K hopes all is well. If anything should happen and if I disappear, it won't go unnoticed.

Dalton, MA 31 December 2006
2007: The Year Ahead
There should be many changes ahead for me. I will turn 35 this years. This is just one of many difficult life decisions I must make. I need to make a most serious effort to publish my poetry and books. I must publish and/or get The God of Earth produced and staged. In 2007, I must take my Spoken Word performance to a higher and professional level.
Coupled with this I need to find a wife and start producing children. If I don't have kids by June 2008, then I will never have any. finally I hope to find legal and permanent residence out of the US. I will feel bitterness and depression if I remain in the US beyond 2007.
Realistically, 2007 promises to be a very lonely year. I will be leaving and severing many long established friendships and relationships. my ties to Canada are severed. I will only remain in contact with N and Gen. I'm at the age where new friendships and relationships are difficult to forge.
The most positive aspect for the coming year is that I will start over with a clean slate. Ironically, I'm returning to source of my adult life. Boston is the beginning of where my current issues began. Psychologically, it's an attempt to fix as David Bryne described, "broken Things." I need to sort out the vampire/succubus issue.
My return to Boston will simultaneously herald both my appearance after a decade of disappearance and my disappearance to everyone who has known me for the same decade. Depending upon what happens during the first two weeks, I will disappear from the face of the the earth from my family and friends.

2 January 2007
I'm Boston and it's the beginning of the end. Boston is death. I came here to die and a certain death I will encounter. Perhaps I will die tonight. I cannot conceive how I will survive this week. At this point, the best thing to happens is for the vampires to take me. It's true that I cane to Boston on a suicide mission. The choice was stagnation in Montreal or death in Boston.
Boston Night 1
First night was scary. As Al Jourgensen of the rock group Ministry said: "It's like living in a house that's haunted." Boston, Cambridge, et all is haunted. This is a bloody and quite serious war between the vampires and nebulans.
Boston is still as spooky as before but much more. Like NYC, Boston has lost all of its interesting character. Kenmore Square lost its rock and dance clubs, bars, late night eateries and replaced by Bourgeois Kenmore Square. The Ratsckeller(The Rat), the second most famous punk bar in the US after CBGB, along with all the older establishments and buildings have been razed in place of new bourgeois apartment flats. The BU bookstore is now Barnes and Noble at Boston University. The entire infrastructure of Kenmore Sqaure is in the process of been ripped.
I hate being in Boston. Why did I return? Last night was a living nightmare, in the most literal sense. It was just like so many nightmares and spooky dreams about Boston I've had over the past decade. Last night was like being in one of those dreams. This is why I returned. I will slay the demon or be subjected by it. It's one or the other.
For whatever reason I have been drawn into the vampire/nebulan mess. In fact, the vampires revealed themselves to me years before I became illuminated about WehrSol and the Nebulans. The vampires alerted me to both. Without the vampires initial intervention I may not have become cognizant of or been able to articulate my multi-dimensional insights. I am leaving out many details.
Thank goodness for daylight! Last night felt one of the longest in my life. Last night was just the beginning. It's going to get stranger and weirder each passing day and in particular night. Tonight will be my last night without bed or sleep. It's unsustainable.
I've stashed my books and clothes in the bushes at Harvard last night. They were still there this morning. I simply cannot carry them around for they are too heavy a burden. I grabbed my educational records and documents with me. I risk losing all my books, writings and clothing. I also took along my manuscript "The God of Earth". Fortunately, Boston and Cambridge are compact enough that I can walk everywhere that I need to go.
Today I wondered why I fell in love with Boston in the first place. For all its flaws and spookiness, Boston is unique. There's no other city in the world like it. Philadelphia comes close but Philly is a satellite of NYC. Boston is its own city. It's older than the English incorporation of New York. New Amsterdam wad Dutch. Boston was English. Boston's subway and architecture as well as layout has no other antecedent nor has any city tried to emulate Boston.
What me me want to live in Boston was its absolute and total difference from New York. When I was 17-18, I wanted a change of scenery from NYC. Boston it that to a T. Yet at the same time as a Northeastern city, it was metropolitan enough for me. Its bourgeois character also appealed to me. Boston is the bourgeois metropolis par excellence. Democratic, liberal, tolerant, intellectually egalitarianism attracted me to it.
I'm fading fast. Need to take a nap after I use the Internet. If not, I will become a basket case with the quickness. This is how the vampires have always set me up without a lack sleep. That's how they were able to pull fast ones on me in the past. Sleepiness overwhelms me. I could use a double espresso now. No more writing until I sleep.
I'm on a third wind. For the first time I actually walked around the Prudential Center. The Bostonians are vampires. Cambridge through MIT is Nebulan. Their respective architecture correlates precisely as such.
American Sketch
I have come to the root idea of why I am in Boston. this will be my final definite impressions of Americans. Where and how do people get the impression that Americans are friendly? Of course there are lots of individual friendly Americans as with every other nationalities. This is why it's fallacious to characterise the American as "friendly".
General observations:
1) There is no nation nor country for this isn't a nation of citizenship besides having been born or naturalised, as well as simply crying and getting emotional about the flag. For the Americans, only the flag and anthem has anything to do with the country or nation. There is no notion of a body politic nor common shared or community values. It's only conformity and pretending to be more important or greater than than the other because all the "citizens" within this "country" compete against their relatives, schoolmates, friend and co-workers. There's little concern about the welfare of other individuals or society as a whole. The primary reason for this is endemic self-absorption of the individual vis-a-vis the external world. Is it any wonder that the Americans worship Martin Heidegger?
2)Americans are vulgar, crass, uncouth, ill-mannered, obnoxious, ostentatious, conformist and proud of it. The more outrageous and crude their behaviour, the more oblivious they are. They are spoiled and expect the universe to lead or conform to their slightest whims and flights of fancy. Americans disgrace themselves without the slightest embarrassment. There's no sense of remorse rather only puritan guilt which they must confess their transgressions as they justify and rationalise their contemptible conduct. As long as they confess that they are assholes then they are absolved of all sins without repentance or even and effort to mend or to alter their ways. Of course white Americans are observed engaging in this behaviour on greater average than non-white Americans.
3) It was of course the Americans that invented the "Bandwagon". Americans have a special talent for starting and following trends. Americans are dynamic and love entertainment. They are the most earnest and enthusiastic dancers with the western world. Indeed this is the primary motor of American dominance and hegemony. Much more than it's military industrial apparatus or Machiavellian, machinations in International Relations like Otto von Bismark. In fact, Americans wars are portrayed as entertainment. The first two world wars were action films of heroic white men. More recently, American wars are executed as video games. Who else with the obvious exception of the Nazi's would create, propagate and sell video games to children simulating war.
A case in point is a recent video game in which the player can be an American GI back in the 1960's and 70's fighting and killing the Viet Cong. Has the country forgotten that it lost Vietnam? None of that matters. The past is no longer relevant in the digital age of virtual reality USA. Simply program a video game and Vietnam is won retroactively.
That's America.That's entertainment. Everything is fun! War is fun! Ignorance is fun! Freedom is fun! The American love Liberty because it's fun to be at liberty! The American had fun transforming French into Liberty. American have managed to make tyranny fun! What makes American tyranny better and more dynamic than tyrannies in history is it's entertainment value. The Germans had no sense of humour. The were Russian were dead earnest. Indeed German artists such as Kraftwerk borrowed American suffer music rehashing it having "fun, fun, fun on the Autobahn!"
The pictures from Abu-Gharib prison in Iraq illustrate this best. The American soldiers had so much fun torturing. True, the Austrians enjoyed a particular "schadefreude" when they hung their traitors posing before camera with the hanging corpse. However, the Americans exceed the Austrians. At Abu-Gharib prison the American soldiers couldn't wait before they actually executed their prisoners to pose before the cameras. In the middle of the most barbaric and base torture, not only did they enjoy themselves but posed with "Two Big Thumbs Up!".Nor they did smirk nor grin nor had a knowing smile. No they had the Kool-Aid Smile. The British musician Paul Weller could not have conceived in the drunker stupor how true his words would ring 20 years later: "A kick in the balls and that's entertainment."

4) Americans are incorrigible bigots and reactionaries. Regardless of their race, colour education or class, 95% of Americans are deeply obsessed about putting down the other. The most progressive among them find reasons to denigrate or at the very least to dislike another ethnic or racial group. While racism is found in every land and with varying degrees within everyone, the Americans find it difficult to be polite when it's appropriate. Even if Americans are forced to be polite they are obviously strained to do so. Rather than put up a neutral countenance or a "Canadian smile", American will let it be known in no uncertain terms that they hate you or express their deep belief in their superiority.
Boston Night 2
Shit! Nightfall again! It's still very early on top of it. Another interminable evening of sketchiness. To make matters worse, there is no possible refuge except inside private quarters. I've been told of one late night Italian cafe up in the North End. Right. The last time I went to an Italian cafe was in Vancouver my final night there. They kicked us out with the quickness. I know that I will not be welcomed there just on general principle nor will they allow me to order one cup of coffee and let me sit all night reading and writing.
The girls are so hostile! Every time I look at them, nod my head, smile or say hello, I get nasty looks and the frozen shoulder in return. Though women were hardly attracted to me in Montreal, they would at lease smile at me. Here the women wither seem to hate me or fear me or both.
I saw Sam today at Harvard Square. She either ignored me or forgot about me. She entered the T kiosk to meet a man. We made eye contact. It was her. She's still looking good in her late 20s. I called her name but she had on headphones.
It's a full moon tonight. I stick out like a sore thumb. Something is going to happen tonight. If I thought last night was intense, things will go over the top tonight. I need to get out of this establishment.
I just had the most interesting walk. As I walked towards Central Square in Cambridge, I began to have doubts that any of this was real. Perhaps I was imagining everything about the vampire/nebulan agenda. Maybe I had let myself get carried away with an elaborate delusional fantasy.No sooner had those thoughts occurred I was reminded the reality. I stopped by a bar/club called TT The Bears Place to see what was going on there for entertainment. A rock band was scheduled to perform and I was not in the mood to pay $12 for a band I didn't know. I thought that I had spotted Kim, one of the vampires who has been haunting me for 15 years. But it was only a redhead. I stayed outside the bar to read the upcoming events. When I started on my way again two women walked out of the bar. I didn't turn around to look at them. One of the women was not impressed with the line-up scheduled either. She said goodbye to her friend. As I turned onto Mass Avenue she did the same. As she walked past me I saw it was the redhead that i had spotted and mistaken for Kim. She was a goth/industrial with black clothing. On the back of her shirt was the image of a red menacing arachnid. She was a Nebulan. The previous weekend in The Berkshires in Western Mass another woman entered the cafe with a poisonous spider emblazoned on the back of her winter jacket. Coincidence? Highly unlikely. Anyway the redhead Nebulan got into her car and drove off. 500 yards ahead I man came walking the opposite direction. He gave me the most sinister grin and scowl as he bared his teeth. His teeth appeared human but there were too many rows and they appeared to be exceptionally pointy. Not fangs but abnormally pointy.
Within 2-3 minutes, a nebulan and a vampire revealed themselves to me in quick succession. Needless to say everything is Topsy-Turvy. Yet I managed to secure safe and comfortable shelter and got the sleep that I desired and needed.
The biggest difference between Boston and NYC is the tacit of repression. NYC is under military police dictatorship. Boston is under psychic dictatorship. A psychic dictatorship could not succeed in NYC given it's size, mass population and chaotic rapid kinetic electric dynamics. 9/11 was orchestrated to produce a mass psychological shock which allowed for a military police dictatorship to be established. 9/11 was orchestrated to produce a mass psychological shock which allowed for a military police dictatorship. It must be noted that one of the jets that hit the WTC originated from Boston Logan Airport. Boston is implicated in 9/11 and I will discover exactly how.
Boston, as a smaller more provincial city was ripe for psychic dictatorship. Indeed the very concept and origin of psychic dictatorship was created both at Mass. General Hospital and MIT back in the 1950's with full cooperation between the CIA and The Pentagon back in the 1950s.
Needless to say everything is topsy turvy. Earlier today I walked down Huntington Avenue to Mission Hill. I passed by my old apartment building on Worthington. I realised for the first time I had lived only a block away from Vancouver Street. The coincidences keep piling up.
So far Sam is the only person that I know that I've seen. Maybe it wasn't Sam but just some random redhead. Why do I keep doubting myself when the evidence continues to slap in the face?
I'm so tired. I need to sleep.
By tomorrow night I will have a bed. I will go to Labor Ready early. I hope to get work and get paid by the end of the day. Even if it's shit work, it will be cash in my pocket.
OK. Just when things couldn't get any weirder.... A blonde girl who lured me into MIT last night just sat down across from me here at the MIT Student Center. She's a Lighthead. So WehrSol continues to support me after all.

Boston 4th January 2007
The Lighthead last night brought good luck. I went into the Architecture wing of of the very same MIT building and found the perfect spot to sleep. I got the rest and sleep which was so needed and deserved. I feel s much better. Moreover, I was sheltered from the full moon.
Bizarre how one building can have different energies. The Engineering wing was evil and spooky while the Architecture wing was benevolent and protective.
I went to sleep before Midnight and woke up early enough to go to Labor Ready. The economy in Boston is stagnant. I was unable to secure work or cash today. I registered with them and got something accomplished today. I really wanted some cash today for shelter but that didn't turn out the way I had wanted. Naja.
Having neither an address nor a phone is becoming a hassle. I cannot even apply to temp agencies as I don't have a contact number. Schlimm. Sehr schlimm. It's important that I get some type of work from Labor Ready. They pay at the end of the day. I will return tomorrow at 5:30AM.
What a relief it was to run into the Lighthead again. In fact, it was she who led me into the MIT building. She's really quick and disappears into thin air. She's a WherSolian as well because she has the similar speed and manner of moving as me. It's hard for us to get adjusted on Earth. Anyway, I'm not completely alone here in Boston. WehrSol is keeping a close eye on me. WehrSol will never abandon me. This is my first important mission since I have become God of Nep.
Thank goodness for Dax! Without the Hematite and the multi-dimensional cross, I would be fucked here. The multi-dimensional cross really makes the vampires cringe and hiss. Last night was a case in point. The vampires know exactly who I am and they know exactly what the cross means. They don't like it one bit and show their aversion in no uncertain terms. Moreover, the Hematite Dave gave keeps the Nebulans, witches and other malevolent entities at bay. It provides a magnetic force field protecting me from negative and destructive elements. That is why I haven't any fear of the police or other agents of State control. The fascist nature of the US today is rather laughable. As long as I don't commit a felony or do anything stupid, the police here will leave me along.
My mission in Boston is two-fold:
1)To get to the root and source of the psychic dictatorship and to understand its dynamics.
2) To destroy or at least to disrupt it.
Night 3
I am reading the second part of a new comprehensive history series about The Third Reich by British historian Richard J. Evans. The second book of the trilogy is The Third Reich In Power. What has struck me in particular was how deeply psychological the Nazi terror was. At one point a teacher recorded over 300 dreams of people living in Germany. All of these dreams consisted of people feeling that they were under surveillance all the time. One girl dreamt about the painting of angels that hung over her wall. In her dreams the eyes of the angels which normally looked up towards heaven moved down to watch her under surveillance.
Last night I had trouble sleeping. I kept dreaming how Nazism was getting stronger by the minute in Boston. In fact, the deeper I fell into sleep the stronger the feeling of Nazi encroachment.
It is extremely warm in Boston. The temperature is about 15-17 degrees centigrade.
I really need to get a camera. There is so much to document photographically. One thing about Boston is it's unquestionable uniqueness as no other city in the world looks or feels like it. It is such a creepy and haunted city. As I walk around town I suddenly get the heebie jeebies. A moment later a building or person will manifest to validate my uneasiness. For example:
Last night I walked over the Longfellow Bridge from Boston to Cambridge. I've always like that bridge because the Red Line subway runs across it in the middle. Looking East towards Boston Harbour, I saw a new or recently built bridge which was another example of Nebulan architecture. The bridge actually looks like a spiders web built over the Charles River separating the city from the harbour.
Upon crossing the Longfellow Bridge into Cambridge leads directly to Kendall Square which has nothing but MIT buildings. It was like walking into Nebulan city. I could deal with that but suddenly the heebie jeebies came on really strong as I came upon a rather inexplicably monstrosity. Then I saw " McGovern Center For Brain Research". Indeed. I came upon the HQ of the psychic dictatorship or to be more accurate Thought Police HQ.
Continuing to walk down Main Street in Cambridge one encounters a series of macabre buildings and houses. The type of of style that amusement and theme parks use for Haunted House rides and attractions.
Many years ago I discovered that the vast majority of Christian Churches in Massachusetts are actually disguised Satanic or Witchcraft temples. Most evangelical, pentecostal and other fundamentalist Churches in the US are Satanic in reality. It is obvious when the preachers spend more time mentioning Satan than they do mentioning God or Christ.
On this particular stretch of Main Street the succession of macabre buildings are followed by creepy looking churches creates an eerie landscape. I really must take pictures to document the landscape! I wonder what will happen this weekend?

Boston, MA 5 January 2007
I'm not going to make it. Labor Ready is a disaster. They have no work. Fuck this! I gotta go to another temp agency. I was hoping that I could make pocket cash so not to starve but I have no such luck.
Boston like Montreal is quite walkable. Arguably Boston is more suited for walking than Montreal. The steep foothills of Mont Royal can be rather formidable. Boston for the most part is flat with Beacon Hill a mound compared to Mont Royal.
Kim scared the hell out of me last night. Her Nazism was very strong as she attacked my telepathically. The safe spot is not so safe.
Nebulan vs Vampire
Kim is a succubus.
Everything makes sense. Boston lured me back so I would commit suicide. That way I could join Kim and become a vampire. My suicidal tendencies are manifestations of desires to become a vampire.

Boston, MA 6 January 2007
Last night was a breakthrough. I picked up the Boston Phoenix newspaper and looked for poetry events. Not surprisingly, I found a place near Central Square. The Out of the Blue Gallery is an artists gallery. There was an open mic and I read excerpts from The God of Earth. It went really well. I met two interesting women. One was a sexy 19 year old poet. The other is a writer and former goth in her late 30s. A positive breakthrough at last! I also had a peaceful sleep with Kim or the vampires disturbing me.

Boston, MA 7 January 2007

Dodged a bullet shot at my head. I had another intense dream two nights ago. I dreamt that two people from Out of the Blue Gallery were spies for the CIA. They confessed to being so in the dream. In the next sequence of the dream, I go home to my grandmother. I attempt to open the door but she has the chain locked on. She appears frightened as she informed me that the CIA were looking for me.
On Saturday, I did a decent spoken word set at the gallery. Last night, I participated at the drum circle at the gallery.
Today was an adventure. I went to the Career Centre for orientation after failing to get assigned yet again from Labor Ready. At the career centre they offer Food Stamps and assistance to homeless people. I was referred to another agency. They directed me to a shelter down in Forest Hills in Jamaica Plain.
I took the Orange lone for the first time since 1992 or possibly 1991. Last month in Montreal, I researched the history of the Orange line. I used to be an El on Washington Street through the South End and Roxbury down to Forest Hills on one end and how it ran as an El through the North End, Charlestown and Everett.
On this day I got on at Chinatown station(formerly Essex Street) for the first time. Here is part of the original Washington Street subway tunnel. Last month I saw old photos on the internet of the of El stations along Washington Street. What was most striking was how macabre the stations looked. The Orange line has always been spooky. Historically, it served the Black working calls and poor areas of Roxbury. The Orange line used to have a bad reputation for being dangerous and scary. I find it scary but not dangerous.
As I entered the Chinatown/Essex Street station, the heebie jeebies returned. I looked into the tunnel. It was certainly the most foreboding subway tunnel and station in the league of the 149th Street and Grand Concourse station of the number 2 and 5 lines in the South Bronx. When the train arrived I was struck by its old and decrepit state. As the train made its way I became more and more unsettled. The mostly Black passengers had tortured faces. Oppression and creeping horror was etched on their faces.
I got off at the last stop Forest Hills. I was instructed to take a shuttle bus from the subway to the hospital where the shelter was located. The shuttle bus meandered its way towards Franklin Park at the edge of the city heading towards the woods. My radar sounded alarm. The shuttle turned onto the hospital grounds passing the shelter. I saw people lined up outside. Concentration camp was the word that came into my mind. The shuttle pulled up to the main building. Lemueal Shattuck is a mental hospital. The shelter was part of the mental hospital. Bad news.
I got out and saw a 15 storey building built in the late 1920s or early 1930's. Not only did it look decrepit but the atmosphere was soaked in thought control. I walked down a slight slope and saw the entrance sign. Underneath the sign was Massachusetts Mental Health Center. I saw the structure of the shelter. It was designed as a crematorium with a chimney. I'm still reading The Third Reich In Power. In the book there's a photograph of the German Pavilion at the 1938 Paris Expo built my the Nazi architect Albert Speer. The shelter's eerie design made me extremely leery.
I stood in line with about 2 dozen homeless people who looked as if they were former inmates of the hospital. In Nazi Germany, most of the mentally ill were sent to the gas chambers. On queue I felt as if I was waiting to enter a gas chamber. Just inside the entrance everyone was thoroughly searched for weapons and drugs. As I came to the entrance I took a thorough glance of the interior. There were rows of bunk beds with clinical white sheets. It reminded me of a more humane and progressive version of Malthausen concentration camp in Austria.
I debated what to do. It was 3 o'clock. I was hungry but dinner would not be served until 5 o'clock. At 6 o'clock the shelter closed. Though I was hungry I wasn't sure if I could trust the food. Who knew what psychoactive agents are put in the food? That would have been a brilliant way to place me under thought control. I knew that no one was allowed into the shelter after 6PM but I wondered if people were allowed to leave. Nor did I feel comfortable spending the entire night with this motley crew of former mental inmates. Finally, who knew what went on there at night. I would've been a sitting duck for the Nebulans and vampires. When it was my turn to be searched I balked and left. I decided to leave while it was still daytime. What clinched the decision was the steady stream of law enforcement cruisers entering the hospital grounds withe the words Mass. Department of Corrections.
I took the shuttle bus. The driver was some 58 year old Boston townie with stringy white hair and sadistic blue eyes. As we drove off I realised that I had been set up for a trap. I had informed the agency that I was homeless after being out of the country for 10 years. I also told them that I wasn't familiar with Boston. It all fell into place. They had set me up so that I would "disappear" inside the system. It was assumed that as an outsider who was desperate and ignorant of Boston, I could be set up and taken advantage of.
Der Kosmonaut is a bit too clever for that. Moreover, I was only given one way carfare to get to the shelter. It was assumed that once I got to the subway I would've been stranded and forced into no other choice but to return to the hospital shelter. After all, Forest Hills is at least 3 miles from downtown. Since it was assumed that I was an outsider and unable to navigate my way. Once again Der Kosmonaut is underestimated by his his enemies. I have two legs and feet which function. I'm neither crippled nor paralysed. Der Kosmonaut never gets lost or stranded in any metropolis in the western world. I walked 6 KM back to Cambridge. It took 2 hours.
It was the most intense and sketchiest out walk to date in Boston. From Forest Hills, I followed the old disused trolley tracks o the E branch of the Green line. On Center Street I was in Jamaica Plain. JP east of Washington Street is predominately white and I didn't feel welcomes. I was on the wrong side of JP. 20 years ago there would have been a 85% chance that I would've been verbally assaulted and physically battered.
I thought Cambridge and downtown Boston was spooky! Cambridge cannot compete with JP and Mission Hill. House after house, block by block was like walking through the village of the damned. Most of the homes were mansions with Gothic windows. At each street junction I would look right and left. Each street was foreboding and forbidden.
It pissed down rain all day. Boston was enshrouded with heavy weighted rain. By this point the rain had stopped but thick dense black clouds rolled and skulked across the sky at a low altitude. A rolling low ceiling of death and doom hung above. Combined with the macabre architecture a pure horror was omnipresent.
If I had a camera with me I would have taken no less than 2 scores of photographs. I have neither the talent of a Stephen King nor am I at the calibre of a Clive Barker to adequately paint with words the scene I walked through.
Mission Hill proved no less sinister than JP. Perched high on a cliff stood a structure which looked liked the exterior from the 1960's film "House On Haunted Hill". It struck me as a Catholic Church during the Spanish Inquisition or the types of Baroque counter-reformation Churches found in Central and Eastern Europe. Rather than a Roman Catholic monastery or sadistic Castillian noble's castle stood a diabolical New England tower. It looked like another mental institution. The sky darkened more as the sun set. I was curious to know what the building was and it's purpose or former purpose. It seemed to possess all the dark hidden secrets of Boston within. At the same time its incredible height off the ground made it obvious that common folks should keep away and that it stood watch over the city. The building overlooked all of Mission Hill and JP like a malevolent dark watch tower. There's something up there. Something intentionally kept hidden. When I get my nerve I will take an expedition up there. During daylight hours off course.
I kept thinking about racism during the walk. Boston used to be the most racist city in the Northeastern US. A derogatory name for Black people in the US is "spook". What makes Roxbury, Dorchester and Mission Hill scary is not that they are poor areas with high crime rates. It is the atmosphere. It is the layout of those areas. The city fathers of Boston intentionally put Black people in these areas. The reasoning was to place the spooks in the spooky area of town.
By the time I got towards central Boston I thought I was in the clear. As I crossed the Harvard Bridge over the Charles River, I noticed a helicopter fly overhead towards downtown Boston. By Mass General Hospital it turned around and flew directly above me and went over Cambridge. It was a high tech surveillance helicopter. I watched it go over Cambridge. It turned around and flew lower and flew over my head a 3rd time. In Cambridge I could hear the rotors. Suddenly it flew above and circled right over me. I shouted up and cursed at it giving it the finger. By the time I got to Central Square it circled over me again.
That was the sketchiest day and night so far.

Boston, MA 10 January 2007

Shit! I'm not really surprised. My bags and CD0s got nicked. It was inevitable that they would disappear. On Sunday some stupid white yuppies were hanging around Harvard Yard right at the spot where my bags were stashed. They saw me take out the bag and change my clothes as well as me stowing them back. After I left, they promptly called the cops reporting a suspicious nigger with a suspicious bag. At least I have all my important papers though all of my notebooks are gone. So too is the Fall of New York DVD.

Spent Tuesday night in a proper bed.
At the home of a female Leo but no sex to be said.
Went to a job interview for temp agency.
I now have food stamps and wont go hungry
I have support from State and charity.
Being in Boston is not such a calamity.
I need a woman to get laid.
Will be easier once I get paid

Last night saw Shrub on TV
Empty words and platitudes of mendacity
A right wing brainwashed cunt was cheer leading.
A true American reactionary.
She believes the 9/11 commission.
Whatever Bush wants she gives permission.
She thinks she's advocating democracy.
When the agenda is pure treachery.
She must be his only supporter in Cambridge.
What an ignorant stupid bitch!

Today I had another temp interview.
I think things will turn out cool.
In a couple of weeks I should have my first pay cheque
Life will start to become correct.

MIT is the place to squat.
For artists arriving with diddlysquat
I'm not the only one to ever stay.
Sleeping here without having to pay.
I could get nicked or tossed by the cops.
But I hope that it won't end in a flop.
People like me and see that I'm harmless.
I do not look too much like a mess.
My youthful looks and intellectual flair.
I take great caution and care.
Don't be an idiot or a lout.
This is the way to get tossed out.

A Haitian writer said I look like Langston Hughes
A comparison I won't refuse.
It's quite a compliment.
Being compared to a great poet.

12 days in Boston. Not such a long time yet so much has passed. I'm tired of sleeping on the top floor of MIT. It shouldn't take too much longer to get myself sorted out.
The Nebulans have infiltrated and dominated the music underground. They have managed to wrest control of the alternative rock and electronic scene from the vampires. For the third consectutive week, I have spotted Nebulans. Thursday night at the Western Front underground electronic party, I encountered a 3rd woman with a poisonous arachnid tattoo. She had it tattooed on the back of her neck. On Friday night, I passed a man with the same arachnid jacket as worn by the first woman I observed in Dalton. Last night at TT The Bear, I encountered the scariest Nebulan yet. He had a tattoo of a crustacean arachnid on his biceps. TT The Dear must be Nebulan central for the alternative music scene.
I met a Lighthead last week and saw him again last night. He's very aware of the situation here in Boston. He doesn't use my vocabulary or lexicon but he's encountred scores of Nebulans and vampires. The other night I noticed an abnormally high number of redhead females in Boston. All of them were vampires. The Lighthead had noticed them as well. He called them demons. According to his analysis, their facial freckles are maps which "correspond to demonic constellations of the universe."
I'm witnessing a most most remarkable spectacle in Boston. Between the Nebulans and vampires, the human population which are 100% pure human is becoming extinct. Boston and Massachusetts is going through a serious population decline. Massachusetts has lost half a million people over the past decade. It's safe to say that half of those left the state. Some left for economic reasons but the vast majority fled out of fear and terror. The other quarter million have simply disappeared. They haven't left the state. They have been turned either into vampires or have been eaten by the Nebulans. The Nebulans have the rest of the human species here under thought or telepathic control. Worse still, are those who have retained their free and critical minds but remain impotent or hamstrung out of fear and conformity.
By now, word has gotten around that I'm in town. The Nebulans, CIA and the vampires are duly informed. Being back in Boston has re-activated my telepathy and sharpened my psychic abilities. I need them more than ever.
As I write this an old CIA-CUM-TP-CUM-NEBULAN agent sits next to me. He's reading the New York Times but eavesdropping on my thoughts.
This is the course of action I have decided to take. I will ally myself to the vampires. However, this is simply a political move. I will play the vampires off against the Nebulans. However, I must go under. I have decided to submit to the vampires my semen, sperm and blood. I will assit them in propagating a new master race of vampires. I do this only to subvert the Nebulans.
Yet there are hundreds of people; WehrSolians, Pleaidians and pure humans who are relying on me. No I can't do this to them! I CANNOT! I MUST NOT!
There will be many changes this week. This should be the most intense and interesting week to date.
I can't believe it costs 55 cents to call someone with a public phone. 55 cents! The rates list 50 cents for unlimited local calling. That means if the number starts with 617. Most Boston mobile numbers have a different area code, hence the 5 cent surcharge. Moreover Verizon is first and foremost a wireless phone company. This is economic coercion to force everyone to own a mobile phone. Another example of Thought Control in action.
I cannot see myself much longer in Boston. The front page of today's New York Times reveals that the US military is now spying on Americans. It's incredible how quickly the US turned into a dictatorship. More striking is the absolute absence of outrage or indignation by the American people! Bush can now read the personal mail of citizens and the Pentagon can snoop through people's financial records. I don't have much time. I really can't spend more than 3 months in this country.
Two MIT students are discussing a TV show. It's about a counter-terrorism government ring. On the show, the characters kill and torture suspects. This confirms what I already knew. TV crime dramas show abuse of power. Constitutional rights and guarantees of freedom of routinely discarded on TV. TV cops extract confessions and testimonies by threatening to invoke the Patriot Act. The point of these shows is to acclimatise the people that their rights no longer exist. This is more effective than Nazi Germany. No need for Dr. Goebbels and his Ministry of Propaganda. American TV dulls the mind making the population meek. The newspapers reveal the extent of domestic spying and that simply causes the citizens to sigh with resignation. However this isn't new. Ray Bradbury and Philip K. Dick predicted this over 40 years ago.
Deval Patrick, the new Black governor of Massachusetts is authoritarian. He wants to add one thousand more cops. Patrick wants criminal to pay a fee to fund the hiring of more police. Patrick is a vampire. The Black poor will continue to be criminalised. Patrick is America's top Black vampire.
Make no mistake, America is a fascist and totalitarian country.
I am taking the pulse of the American people. This country is sick. The society is dying. The economy is wasted. The spirit has been gutted. There is no way that I could ever live in the US again. Fortunately, my 10 years out of the US has inoculated me. I remain detached and aloof despite the devastation that surrounds me. The US is on it's last legs as a functional country. The country is is now one step from a dictatorship. The US Supreme Court is about to re-instate racial segregation in public schools. Of course, there is the Military Commissions Act that that once and for all eliminated all Constitutional Rights.
What is most remarkable is how readily Americans accept it. There are two responses in the American people: Acceptance or denial. It is insane!
Then there are the others that know that things are bad but still insist that the US is a democracy. Most of these people have never left the US or if they have they were out for one or two week holidays.
Most of the world has no idea what is happening inside the US. Perhaps what is more frightening is that many Americans themselves are blind, ignorant or indifferent. I cannot ever live in this country. I would be one of the first to be placed in the concentration camps which will be opened up any day now.
Still alive and for now I survive.
I'm trying not to conform to this madness. Being in Montreal for many years have provided me with the needed mental fortitude. I remain aloof and detached from Thought Control.
So far, the Bostonians and Americans are in awe of me. My skills, experience and command of the language makes them swoon. So fat the white Americans love me. After the first week of cold and hostile receptions, women are more open towards me.
1)Twice within the past week white women driving along Mass Avenue have stopped to ask me for directions. Four days ago a white woman driving the wrong direction asked me the way to David Square. I told her she need to turn around. A minute later later she pulled up and stops in front of me. She asked if I knew the location of Grove Street. I didn't know. Ironically, the next day I passed Grove Street by David Square. The woman's friendliness and trust almost made me get in to her car to show her the way.
2) The redhead blue eyed vampires are on to me. Last night one searched for me. She led a troupe of two boys and one girl and came straight to my hideout and resting place.
3)I will have sex with her. I will impregnate redhead blue eyed vampires.
4)I will avoid having sex with Nebulans

Americans are not good enough for me. They are beneath me and as my friend Max in New York would say: "not up to my speed." Americans are such fearful people. It's terribly ironic how Americans have an international reputation for daring and "can-do" attitude when the truth is rather different.
Most Americans don't have the balls to do what I have. Americans don't travel out of the country because they fear what is different and unknown. Americans are mortified of foreignness. Americans cannot leave nor wish to leave their familiar creature comforts. This explains the gross awkwardness of Americans when they travel outside their country. The Americans are easy to spot as they stick out like sore thumbs. They have expressions of perpetual bafflement even when they are in a friendly and similar country such as Canada.
The reasons why Americans are dis-liked in other countries is mostly due to their behaviour. Americans forget that they are a different land and they are the foreigners. Different customs and languages stun them. The slightest difference leaves Americans in shock and awe. Rather than shut up, listen and observe, Americans carry their country and culture on their backs like dead weight. Instead of learning and going with the flow in a different culture and country, they stick together in insecure packs and never deviate from the safe tourist areas.
Americans are sloppy, loud and ostentatious. Every cultural or social difference they observe is a new wonder and phenomena to them. Tat then quietly demur or remark, they make a loud show of their shock.
At the end of the day it's simply a reflection of the domestic American situation. Americans are terribly ignorant about politics. The US most have the least political awareness of any nation in the world. It's a decrepit society. Some people try to make allowances and justify Americans lack of political and social awareness. The poor education system and the media are blamed. However these are mere cop outs. Americans chose to be blind and ignorant. Americans are lazy! It's most ironic as Americans value hard work more than anything else. It's held in higher esteem to be hard-working than intelligent. Critical thinking is not encouraged except for negative criticizing. American like to criticise others for superficial reasons but it often expresses their won narrow mindedness and bigotry.
These are my observations in Cambridge, MA, which is per-capita the most "educated" and "intellectual" municipality in the US. It's terrifying to think what my observations would be in a city like Atlanta.
Here in Cambridge Americans seem to be mystified with my political awareness and knowledge. Moreover, I don't think Americans are used to Black men like myself. Not only am I very educated but I know more than Americans do. I give them quite a shock.I wear my pinstriped jacket and vest along with my white collared shirt, black tie and polished expensive boots. I look like a typical Black Londoner. I haven't seen any Blacks men dressed like me in Boston. I defy all racist stereotypes. People in Boston have asked what race I am. People are confused by me. Yet at the same time, I'm not at all trying to be a white middle class American Uncle Tom a la Colin Powell.
Still, white Americans get on my nerves. The upper class ones think they are so cultured and educated. I sneer and spit down upon them. They have no class. I see them and treat them like the shit beneath my boots. Try as they might but they cannot pull a superiority trip on me. Indeed, I am the one on the superiority trip. I feel and behave way above them. I'm making it quite clear that I do not know my place as a nigger. The best way to navigate is to outclass them without being condescending or too arrogant.
White Americans find it difficult to encounter a Black with more education and knowledge than they have. The fact that I can speak two foreign languages as Americans are uni lingual adds to their insecurity.
Stimmt. The only thing that white Americans have is their skin colour. That is their only badge of worth. So encountering me threatens their sense of entitlement and privilege.
So far Black men in Boston have been impressed with my style of dress. They fancy they classy look. They love the way I speak. They think that I am British. I am the envy of Black men in Boston. They wish that they had my education, my clothes and my travel experience. It's rather sad actually.
In most of my conversations with Americans they are usually stunned into silence because what I discuss is way over their heads. Yesterday a woman asked what I thought was the political solution for America. I replied there needs to be a cultural change to effect political change. The biggest issue with the USA is its cultural and social mentality. I said that the best catalyst for change would be for another Great Depression which would in essence destroy many artificial boundaries and superiority complexes that Americans cherish so deeply.
I clearly have no future in this country. I've advanced and evolved way beyond this country. Americans are hopelessly backwards. The country is a lost cause. Yet I'm not angry anymore. I don't care anymore. The most I feel is sadness. It's sad how a country with its resources, technology and wealth can be so backwards. I'm not even afraid. This will be my last extended stay in the US. I have not only separated from the USA but I'm divorced from it.
It's just not the USA but all of North America. Though Canada is much more advanced than the US it still has the unfortunate North American mentality. Just another 2-5 months is all that I have left in North America. These are my last days. I will take what I need from here and enjoy all the positives that are left.
Just finished reading The third Reich in Power. I'm convinced of the deadly and decrepit nature of the Middle Class. From Fascist Austria through Nazi Germany to the USA and Ontario, the Middle Class has wrought political disaster in one degree or another.
The biggest problem of the Middle Class is its naive impressionability. That class consists of the most naive and impressionable people. Angela in Montreal is a good case study. So too, to a lesser extent is Paul. They avidly read newspapers such as The Globe and Mail or the New York times believing they are well informed about social and political reality. They easily believe what they see, read and hear from the media.
The Middle Class is the most gullible class. They get seduced by the likes of Hitler, Mike Harris, Blair and Bush. Simply possessing a university degree makes them assume that they are educated, intelligent and aware. In spite of their education, more often than not, they are unable to get beyond the superficial. They believe the rhetoric of Bush and Schwarzenegger. Despite being economically comfortable, they are frugal, thrifty and cheap. They vote for the right sing scoundrels sich as Pataki, Harris and Romney who offer them tax breaks which on average amount to no more than $20. They are conformist and obedient without the skills of critical thinking. their outlook and socio-political views are not produced on their own by rather by TV pundits and radio propagandists. The more impressionable have their views influenced and shaped by rumours and ignorant statements of their friends, relatives and work colleagues.
Despite their privileges, Middle class people are resentful, spiteful and invariably feel hard done by. In spite self-absorbed delusions of grandeur, they ultimately view themselves as "the little guy".
They are perpetually adolescent and their personal relations are based purely out of jealousy, spite, pride and competition. As soon as their economic interests are threatened or what they perceive as any threat to their two dimensional existence, they are the first to turn to the reactionary demagogue.
The Middle Class obsession about money is most telling. On one hand, they lack circumspection about spending and wasting money on useless and disposable consumer goods. Yet when it comes to public finances through taxation, they are misers. Still, they are selective about their concerns regarding "their tax dollars". As "taxpayers", they resent social welfare spending such as the military or subsidies to corporations (corporate welfare). Petty governmental corruption throws them into fits of outrage.

It's hard to believe that I've only been in Boston for 12 days. Nor does it seem that it's been only 3 weeks since I've left Montreal. It feels as if I've been away for months. I was bored in Dalton. Thee hasn't been a dull moment in Boston. in fact, this is the most exciting adventure I've had in two years.
So much has happened over 12 days! Lots of people are thinking of me. I got an email from Katerina today. I sent her a quick reply that I'm in Boston. If I disappear, my absence will not go unnoticed. Only 6 people know what really going on with me.
Tomorrow I will meet a Goth girl at Harvard Square. She is part of the Gothic online meet up. I think she's very young, possible a teenager still. She's probably some short, squat fat bitch as luck might have it.
The kid that I mentioned at the start of today's entry is named Aladdin. He's really a Lighthead. He's the only one I've met so far in Boston who seems to know what's really happening. He reminds me of the Mark Petrie character from Salem's Lot. In many way, I am like Ben Mears.
He and I met at Out of the Blue last week for the first time. He came right up to me and introduced himself. Aladdin said that he had felt and instant affinity to me. He relates to my poetry and spoken word performance quite keenly-

16 JANUARY 2007
I'm back home in Boston. I went out to an Industrial club last night. The Industrial scene is alive and well in Boston. the most noticeable change is in its friendliness. I was able to talk to lots of girls. I got the email and number of two girls last night. A third girl gave me a false email address. Oh well. The girls in the Boston scene have always been the hottest and sexiest. Also, the best club dancers are in Boston. I'm back home in the scene which I belong.
Though Out of the Blue is a good literary scene, I'm going to meet or pick up and women there. The Industrial scene is where my sex life will take place.
Masha: Russian. She wore a Soviet military hat with a black petticoat.
Claudia: Not much sexual attraction between us. That's compensated with mutual political outlook. she's terribly American and her political outlook is rather limited. she thinks she's anti-racist but of course has latent racism. I will not waste time talking to her the next time we meet.
Morgan, the Goth girl stood me up at Harvard Square yesterday. I'm not surprised as I expected it. The Pit scene has always been a racist and reactionary scene anyway. 10 years ago Nazi skinheads used to occupy it. Now it's occupied by working class Townie racists.
The next couple of days will be uneventful. Nothing is happening on the cultural front until Thursday night. I will not start my new job until Monday at the earliest. I'm in a holding pattern for a couple of days.
Tomorrow I will go back to Labor Ready. Perhaps there will be some work available. I doubt it but at least I will be able to drink coffee and be somewhere warm to read in the morning. Then I will check my email at the library. Perhaps, the text has been sent from Austria for me to translate. If so, I will go to the State Work Place to print it out. I will possibly repeat the process again on Thursday. But Thursday night is circle at Western Front. On Friday, I will meet with Rosemarie.
I really must find a woman as soon as possible. At this point Masha seems the best candidate. Abba isn't interested. Elizabeth has a convoluted lover. Claudia is a nonstarter. L and I lack any chemistry. Devon is a lesbian. Irene is a Nubian princess and looks down upon me. Julee is attracted to me but rebuffs me. She's a bitch who likes me but remains a bitch nevertheless. Tanya is the best looking but I turned her off. This only leaves Masha.
It's been a couple of days since anything sketchy or scare has occurred. Surprisingly, none of the vampires or Nebulans appeared at the industrial club last night.
There's a police spy following me around. I first notices her at the welfare office last week. I spotted her again today at Park Street. Since Cambridge is out of her jurisdiction she only follows me around in Boston.
Here at MIT, there are lots of CIA, TP and Nebulan spies keeping track of me. I haven't seen Kim in the flesh. However, her spirit as a succubus has fucked me a couple of times as I attempted to sleep here at MIT.
Today I met a girl names Janet. She's taking a non-credit course in Tarot. I talked to her a bit.
So far it's a stalemate between me and TP/Nebulans/Vampires. Even though I have agreed to give the vampires my sperm, semen and blood, things have been quiet. Perhaps it's precisely because I have agreed to it that things have quieted down. The vampires can now claim me. They have been duking it out with the Nebulans and Thought Police since I committed to them. Good. The vampires are protecting me while they are ripping into the Nebulans in the meanwhile.
Tonight I will send a dispatch to WehrSol. I must give hem a status update. though I'm alone on this mission physically, my numerous allies are with me in spirit.
A redhead is sitting 15 feet from me now. She's a vampire. We have a telepathic connection. I'm sending out very strong sexual signals.

17 JANUARY 2007
I had a most productive day. On Friday, I will have my final interview at Longwood Medical Center. Rosemarie at The Work Place really sorted me out. Shave gave me $15 for carfare, 7 shirts and sweaters, a $10 gift certificate to by a couple of pair of trousers. She gave me $5 for a haircut and a $25 gift card for Target. I got my hair cut as well has having it shampoo washed. I look and feel so much better!
Longwood Medical Center is making me jump through hoops but I guess they really are looking for serious candidates. I hope that I can start by Monday.
Easy come, easy go. Deborah Priestly like a few other people have asked me why I returned to the country and why I picked Boston. Invariably I reply that I returned to make money, to publish and to make myself known. I don't tell anyone my real motive. The closest I reveal is by saying that I've returned to take the nation's pulse. Still, people find me interesting. Returning to Boston has reinforced the privileged life that I lead.
I really hope that the Boston Public Library has a good comprehensive and updated German-English dictionary. If not, I will go to Border's. If I can secure $60 by Saturday, I will be stoked. It would be brilliant but not awesome. I'm not tired at all.
There's a redhead conspiracy in Boston. There's an abnormal amount of redheads here. I see them everywhere.
20 JANUARY 2007
My lover in Vienna pissed me off. What a fucking bitch. I did a top job translating the document but she delays paying me. I really needed the cash for the weekend. She's not sending it until tomorrow which fucks me over. The library is closed on Sunday. I just sent her a reply. I told her that she can send it over the internet without having to go to the railway station. She is being a real bitch to me. I think she may be menopausal.
It's imperative that I set up my mobile phone today. I need to call Max and my aunt. Besides, it's not as if I'm asking my lover to do me a favour. I did work for her doing translation. Women are such a pain in the ass.

She relented and sent the money, not without acrimony. Anyway, I got my phone activated. I called my relatives and Dalton to let them know that I'm ok as well as t give them my new number. I had a a very deep sleep. I woke up feeling very good.
After 4 weeks back in the country things have progressed rather well. I have landed a decent job with reasonable pay. I have set up a phone. My next and final hurtle is to find an apartment. That will not take very long. I face no more than 2 weeks of my current lack of housing. I'm running out of space in my notebook. Should conserve paper until the freaky shit occurs again.
I like Diesel Cafe. I will come here more often. I like 1392 as well but it's so hard to find tables and sears there. I will never step foot back in Au bon pain or Starbucks ever again.
I really hope Masha shows up tonight. I've been waiting to see see her all week. I just hope she doesn't pull a Canadian antic and show up with another man. She did come to the club alone last week even though she knew people there. That really shit me up the wall with Canadian women. They could rarely ever go out alone. They always had to show up with someone else because they didn't want to appear that they were losers without friends. I don't miss that about Canada. Anyway, I hope Masha doesn't show up with another man. If she shows up with another woman or tow, I could live with that.
I'm rather excited about tonight. I'm dressed to kill. I'm dress to get laid. I'm dressed for sex. I'm looking very attractive and handsome. If I can't get laid tonight, then I can't get laid anytime. My intuition tells me if Masha shows up tonight then we will have sex.
Women are checking me out in the cafe. Even the lesbians are peeping me. Tonight is the evening for sex.
I just saw Aladdin. He survived the week. The Thought Police tried to kill him. What I sensed last week was correct. The TP agent that sat next to me on 14 Jan tried to kill Aladdin. As I was writing about Aladdin, the TP agent said aloud: "He's dead!" I sensed that he was referring to Aladdin. A few days ago a spider bit him all over the face drinking his blood as he slept.
Masha didn't show up tonight. I'm terribly disappointed. The succubi prevented her from coming. They can't allow me to have sex with her. If I have sex with Masha, the vampires are defeated. Tonight is when the succubi will make their move. At least two of them are going to rape me tonight. Instead of me fucking Masha, the succubi are going to me me. There's nothing that I can do about it. There's no place to hide.
The woman who last week supported Bush is a witch. She's currently occupying the second floor lounge. I can't go up there.
I have the heebie jeebies seriously now. That means something is about to happen. The succubi have me. They know it. Fuck! Why did Masha flake out on me tonight? Was it the cold weather? I'm so angry! shit! To make matters worst, I'm not remotely tired. It would be nice if I were sleepy. Of course, I'm not sleepy. The next 9 days are going to be the hardest and trickiest. At least I will have sex soon. The succubi are going to use me as their sex toy. It will happen within the next 24 hours.......

21 JANUARY 2007
Kim and Sam drained me last night.

22 JANUARY 2007
The extreme fare hike on the subways is producing a phenomena I have never seen. The subways are empty. With the exception of the Red line which serves the more affluent towns of Cambridge and Somerville, the subway trains within Boston are empty. No one can afford to ride public transport. The only reason why people are riding it again is that Arctic weather has returned. Once the warm weather hits, everyone will be biking. There is talk that the MBTA will be forced to reduce the fare or make concessions.
This city is disappearing. Both Boston and the state of Massachusetts are seeing a dramatic de-population. It is like witnessing a city disappear. It always confirms my notion about vampirism. One sign that a town has been taken over by vampires is how empty and quiet it becomes.

31 JANUARY 2007
I am still alive and kicking. I am winning the war. It's a tough fight but I am surely winning.

22 FEBRUARY 2007
My business is done in Boston. I have seen enough that I have sufficient material for my next book. There were 3 triggers yesterday that convinced me to curtail my visit.
1)Boston, like most of the US is narrow minded when it comes to the race issue. Though I have been fully employed for one month I have been unable to find an apartment. I have been searching for apartments in the neighbouring towns of Brookline and Somerville. I had looked on Craig's list for shares. Though I always received enthusiastic replies through email when I go to look at the apartment the enthusiasms quickly extinguished when the people realise I am not white. I am supposed to live with "my people" in the ghettos of Roxbury and Dorchester. Or I should live in the coloured immigrant enclave of Chelsea.
No. I refuse to submit to American narrow minded backwardness. I just finished living in the Mile End of Montreal. I am from the Upper West Side of Manhattan. I have never and I refuse to live in the ghetto. I refuse to be forced to live in the margins of society because of my race or because I am supposed to stay in my place.
2)On Tuesday night I watched The Colbert Report. There was an ignorant Black female writer named Deidre Walker. She said that the US Senator and Presidential candidate Barack Obama was not Black. She said that he was not really African-American but rather an "African African-American." Why? Because Obama's mother is white American and his father if from Kenya. Wait a minute. Obama was born in Hawaii, the 50th State of the the Union. His mother is from Kansas and his father from Kenya in Africa. Doesn't that make Obama a true African-American. Not according to this ignorant Black American woman. It was a relief to see Stephen Colbert rip and tear her to shreds. It really shows how doomed Black people are in the US. If the top intellectuals deny that Obama is Black then it shows how backwards, ignorant and out of touch with reality they are in.
3)Yesterday I saw a South Asian man ejected out of an organic food co-op. I have always been suspicious of the entire environmental, ecological and organic movement. Though I am aware, concerned and somewhat pro-active on the environment file I never considered myself to be an "environmentalist". The entire organic food movement is basically a white upper middle American trip. It is a fig leaf of truly reactionary politics and beliefs. I have been staying in Cambridge and the only supermarkets are organic. At first I shopped at Whole Foods until I discovered their union-busting antics. Then I went to Harvest which bills itself as a neighbourhood organic food co-op. At the rear of the establishment is the supermarket. In the front is a cafe with seating and tables.
Yesterday the manager and security guard admonished a South Asian man and told him to leave. Apparently he spent a few hours each day using his lap top. He was obviously poor as he clothing was ratty is not necessarily tattered. The manager that yelled at him was some cracker bitch with a Georgia accent. She told him that he was taking space away from other customers. The security guard was a Black man. As the South Asian man was packing his laptop, I heard the security agent ask for disinfectant.

That was it. I snapped. I thought I could hang on for another couple of months before I left but it is not to be. This country is doomed.
The Nebulans want me out. The Thought Police want me out. The vampires are no longer interested in me. They found the Black man they needed in the form of the new Governor of Massachusetts Deval Patrick. Originally I was tapped to fill the shoes but since I balked and left the country the vampires found their Black man to put into power.
I have discovered enough but I will not be able to uncover more. It is best that I leave as soon as possible. My ultimate destination in Berlin. I will return to Montreal in two weeks.
I finally discovered the label of all the black widow spiders that I have seen mostly women in this state wear. The brand is called Spyder. I rest my case.
The Nebulans are going down and they know it. The vampires are hoping to have a monopoly of power and influence. Truthfully it's better to have vampires in control than the Nebulans. However it's like having to choose between Austrian Fascism and German Nazism. The vampires are Austro-Fascist while the Nebulans are German Nazis.

5 MARCH 2007
Here it comes. The moment of truth. I am coming finally at last to the crux of my mission. The vampire saga comes to a final showdown. Tonight I am heading to Salem, town of witch trials and home of the largest concentration of witches, warlocks, wizards and vampires in the world. This is where the conclusion of 16 years of haunting comes to a head.
I have 3 days left in Boston and these final days will be Rock N Roll. There has been a lull of activity vis-a vis the vampires and myself. Now that I am in my last days here the vampires will come out en masse.
Last night was already creepy in Boston. By 10 PM the streets were deserted as a chilly wind swept through the narrow lanes of this haunted city creating an eerie impression of a ghost town. The vampires owned the streets of Boston last night. I could hear them and feel them.
There is much anticipation in Salem of my arrival. The manager of the hostel in Boston that I stayed in this weekend told me that he was from Salem. He pointedly asked me if I was into clairvoyance, ghosts and witches. I told him that I had an interest in these affairs. The manager confessed that he was a clairvoyant and in typical New England fashion hinted that I should expect to see phenomena.
I have never been to Salem before. All of my encounters with vampires have always occurred within the confines of Boston, Cambridge and Winchester.
Why am I going to Salem? Last month at a monthly goth Club in Cambridge I met a woman by the name of Sam. She is a native of South Africa studying at Salem State College. She told me that she had a deep interest in blood and in fact she was studying Forensic Biology at the College. Sam says that she wants to become a forensic biological detective. Moreover Sam claims to be a witch and practices Black Magic. Her email is "lilenglishwitch".
She is going to show me around Salem. Why am I doing this? The obvious reason is that I want to confront and end the vampire saga once and for all. The other reason is out of pure perverse curiosity. This is one of the fatal flaws of being a poet. As Goethe wrote in Faust Part 2 in the famous scene entitled Walpurgisnacht (the high night of witchcraft): "And the poets went off with the vampires."
I have no idea what will happen. This is more dangerous than anything happening politically in the US now. If I can survive this trip to Salem with my soul still in possession and remaining sane and pure human being without having turned into a vampire or having some enchantment posed upon me, then I can survive anything.
If there is no contact or communication from me by (Friday) then you will know that I disappeared in Salem. I am scheduled to arrive in Montreal Thursday night.

6 MARCH 2007
I took train #69 from Boston North Station scheduled to depart at 5:55PM. Just at sunset the train pulled out of the station and crossed over the Charles River. 30 minutes later I arrived in Salem. I was in Salem for only 90 minutes leaving a stake through the heart of the town.
The South African witch drove me back to Boston to the Monday night Goth/Industrial club Ceremony. All of the vampires and witches under 40 from New England was present.
With the help of the DJ I was able through dance to arouse and manipulate the energy which awed and made the vampires and witches submit. By the end of the night, vampires asked if I was God. Another compared me to Christ saying that I had the power equal to that of the Resurrection. They still don't know who Der Kosmonaut really is.
My mission to Boston is completed. I have slayed the demon. I have broken the curse of 16 years. I will not be haunted by vampires anymore. Nor will I have haunting nightmares about Boston.
I am free from Boston. I am free of the US.
I leave Boston with my soul intact without a drop of blood lost or spilled. I leave Boston stronger spiritually and psychically than when I entered.
In 49 hours I will be on a bus heading back to Canada. Once back in Canada I will draft a final report.
I am mortal but am a strong survivor.


I made it out of Boston and the USA unscathed with my soul intact and not a drop of blood spilled. Hee hee hee!!! I am relaxing safely in Montreal. I am on my way to Berlin. Whew!
It was an intense odyssey but I am much stronger and invigorated than I was 3 months ago.
It is rather remarkable that I was able to go to Boston with $12 in my pocket being homeless for 6 out of 8 weeks and still obtain a job and make it out of Boston in one piece.
It is also remarkable that I was able to get a job which gave me a free pass through military and police checkpoints. I was also to make a stunning and positive impression on the poets scene in Cambridge. I was on TV more than 5 times performing and reading my poetry. I was able to re-connect to the best goth/industrial scene in North America. Most importantly I was able to slay the demons that had haunted me. Driving a stake through the vampires who had haunted and taunted me. The biggest prize was that I was able to remove mental blocks and deep rooted fears that had plagued me since I was 18.
Boston tried to kill me, take my soul and turn me into a thought clone but I was able to withstand it. I gained 20 pounds in the US. Good thing that I left when I did or I would be well on the road to the overweight side of life. Everyone in Montreal has noticed profound changes in me.
I wish to thank you for having the patience to read this remarkable true account of the past 2 months. I wish to thank in particular DB who was intrigued enough to visit Boston for one day and smart enough to bring a camera to document the evidence. Thank you all for believing me and not discounting me as a nutter.
A final word. The truth of the matter and the gravity of the reality is so weird and far-fetched that very few people could comprehend let alone believe. This is information to keep for yourself. This has been presented to you as a mental shield. We are going to witness weird and unusual things in the years to come. We will see the manifestation of everything that I have discussed.
This is the past. The future is now! Now is the time for me to go to Berlin.

Letter from Boston
"It is very good to get your message and to know you are doing well in Berlin & like it there. I have a bad chest cold and cough right now from stress. I am in a battle with some psychic spirits and it has gone on too long. They do not respect my psychic autonomy or dreams. I have been working hard at a part-time job and having Reiki treatments. I have also tried to seek intervention through the church I go to."

Boston still cannot accept the fact that I escaped. Boston is still
trying to keep track of me.
I decided to cut off all ties with that woman. She is gone, lost,
finished. Though she remains possessed by spirits she stubbornly
believes that the spirits which torture her are benevolent. Her
mistake was the retain her Christian Catholic faith and mix it with
mystical Hinduism. That simply doesn't work. Instead she is now under
aggressive Thought Control. I try to tell her but she refuses to
listen or accept what I have to tell her. I can't help her. I made
sure that all emails from her are automatically deleted.
On Friday I got an email from the street charity organisation that
hooked me up with Food stamps but also tried to set me up at the
mental hospital shelter. My case worker sent me an email from out of
the blue. They knew that I had left the country. I had used the
address of the charity because I was really homeless in Boston. The
case worker wrote that I had received mail at the centre and wanted to
know what my address was here in Europe. I simply ignored it.
It is said that weirdness comes in 3s. Last week I wrote to the kid
Alladian who had his blood withdrawn. He finally replied to me. Here
is what he had to say:

i have been remembering your presence.
in fact boston/cambridge seems to be changing by the
no lie. yes its fucked up.
& i just so happen to have a doctors appointment 2
days after you tell me to keep my bio-logical property
to myself... haha what are the odds....

at this point the city is changing so quickly
im wonding when its going to be below sea level
(i cant remember if i discussed this with you)

but on a further note
america as a culture is dead
and nature is taking a swing aswell
60% of the bee population is dead
i dont know if its due to human interaction or not
but either way bio-domes are becoming natures last
& yes i knew u detected a change in my actions
when we had our conversations i was living under a

i didnt realize that i dont have to be the savior of a
bunch of people that will never appreciate my efforts
unfortunately to some degree they did get to us.
my blood as far as i know is still untainted
but my mentality has never been so powerful
now that i have stoped caring about everyone else....
astrology is governed by gravity
and every streach of energy gets there moment
is it so hard to fathom our time is almost over?
but for sure
i was abducted recently
apparantly they needed to talk to me
& just to let you know im slightly abnormal compared
to other people around here
due to never having cable t.v. haha

on a more normal note ekum and i have been pretty busy
with making music videos & planing parties.... trying
to hold up the normal life you know haha

& yes thank you for reminding me to get a pass port
do you know how much money it costs?
i have been taking small steps to make my way out of
the country
especially mass

1 more thing
spiderbites fuckin suck man
keep in touch & peace always"

What I like about receiving this email is how it makes me appreciate
my time in Vienna more. Yes, there is some trivial bullshit in Vienna
but I would rather deal with that than be in Boston.

I knew things were bad but I did not know to such extent. Now, people who used to
see things like ME have been converted. Thought Control is
real! I am not imagining this at all. Aladdin had his blood taken. Well it looks like the Thought Police have captured him. Here is an excerpt from his email I received today:

i kno i must of mentioned this a million times
but my political views have changed.... i no longer
care about the native americans
im actually pro bush & everything he's doing
im going to school in the fall for japanese &
computers & hope to work for the government or the
medical industry someday
conformity is the only way for survival
deviation from the population equals death
astrologically we are heading into a time of unity
where all of us must be united as one."

What? Huh? How? Everything that I reported is true.
Aladdian wants to work for the medical industry. I told you about
their agenda in Boston. He has decided to become a G-Man and become an
agent for the Thought Police! Anyway, I can no longer help him. Good
thing that I got the hell out of Boston. Get ready! The hammer is
about to come down hard! Please be very careful! If someone like Alladian can be converted then anyone can.
Anyone not under Thought Control is a target.
I told Aladdian to stay away from me and to cease and desist all
contact with me.
I am chilled to the bone. I have seen many scary and spooky things
over the past 9 months but his email fills me with unbelievable
The worst thing is that I cannot tell most people about this because
they will think that I am mad. Humanity is sleepwalking to its doom.
I still cannot believe that I was allowed to the leave the continent
without undergoing brain surgery.
Watch your back!

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