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The Your Stories section is all about you! Please take a minute to tell visitors of the ILGA website about what LGBTI life is like in reality. Please submit your personal story and share your experience!

YOUR STORIES
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Readers Experiences

This is what people are saying about life for LGBTI people in UNITED STATES...
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John Mccallum (user currently living in UNITED STATES) posted for gay readers on 25/04/2014 tagged with gender identity
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I have always been gay, I was as first open as a sheep bearded in 1968. I feel for a black hand at the local ranch. I loved him but was ashamed. So I acted straight and married a woman, but have always missed being man handled and taken. Now I can't hide anymore, I want to be a real woman and find another man.
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Eric Barnes (user currently living in UNITED STATES) posted for gay readers on 03/04/2014 tagged with hate crime and violence prevention, gender identity, human rights
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Facebook deleted my group SUPPORT IRAQI GAYS - STOP THE KILLING, a vital outlet for Iraqi gay expression in a country that routinely kills gays. Please read my letter to facebook, as yet unanswered. Will you contact Facebook for me and tell them you are disturbed by this report? Please? Thank you!

April 3, 2014

Dear Facebook administrator,

I was shocked to wake up this morning and learn that my longstanding social group, SUPPORT IRAQI GAYS - STOP THE KILLING was removed for unspecified "content violations." For nearly six years this group has been a vital forum for more than 2,000 iraqi gays who needed a place to communicate online openly as they try to avoid being openly murdered for whom they love.

From my end as founder and administrator, we have become increasingly adept at monitoring the site for porography, hate speech, commercial postings and the like. We now monitor the site 24/7 from both Baghdad and San Francisco looking for content violations. Postings are removed with lightning efficiency if they violate the content standards, and members are banned permenantly for repeat offenses. By any possible standard we have given due diligence to monitoring this site in both Arabic and English - continuously.

In addition, I recall on more than one occasion when Facebook would not allow me to remove a posting, saying "You are not authorized to edit this site" when I am in fact the founder! But other than that we are a page that does not tolerate nudity below the waist, or hate speech of any kind. I have an Iraqi administrator who is on the job when I'm not.

With any group of more than 2,000 young gays you are going to have the occasional violation, but we deal with them increasingly swiftly to ensure that the site is open and friendly to everyone. How could we possibly do more? About a year ago the site was suspended for allegedly violating standards, but I searched the site for evidnce that images had been removed, or that any standards were violated, and could find none. Nothing - and no explanation from Facebook on what the offending content was - or who had posted it!!!

But let's look at the real problem here: Thousands of Iraqi gays face the death penalty in their country for daring to be gay. This page has been one of the few forums available to them to express themselves and meet each other -- and by any POSSIBLE measure my administration of the page has been caring and competent and continuous.

I ask that you restore our page and its members to their former status. I promise we will continue monitoring the site as carefully as we do today. When you show images of two men kissing, there will always be someone who complains, but if they are merely bad actors and there is no pornography or hate speech -- then Facebook needs a way to recognize that that their complaints are not valid and ignore them. We do everything we can here to ensure a good experience for our members. But you didn't even leave a grievance procedure in place for us to challenge this dreadful decision. Without our page, one thing is sure. Iraqi gays will die, Iraqi gays will be hurt, and Iraqi gays will have no forum to share their feelings.

I beg you to reestablish this site in consideration of the enormous social benefit it brings. Paying attention to these things is part of your responsibility as a company. We as administrators can only provide diligence, we cannot prevent members from posting things, we can only remove members who do. And we do so with lightning speed.

I look forward to your reconsideration of this issue.

Very truly yours.


Eric E Barnes
San Francisco

synrg@comcast.net
saucyladd@yahoo.com










Goodbye Iraqi Gays - you are loved

Today brings a sad farewell to my beloved Facebook group "SUPPORT IRAQI GAYS - STOP THE KILLING." To our 2,473 loyal members who for six years asked for nothing more than a chance to be themselves, seize the opportunity to speak out against homophobia and meet and cruise each other in a relentlessly antigay society, I am sorry.

But it wasn't the CIA, it wasn't the Iraqi government, and it wasn't antigay militants who killed the group -- it was Facebook. I got an e-mail at midnight saying the group had been removed for unspecified "content violations" and that was that. There is no response address, no grievance procedure, no image or content specified as violating their community standards.

I consider Facebook's actions to be brutally violent considering the great lengths we went to to keep members' contributions civil and decent. We monitored the site continuously from both San Francisco and Baghdad, in both English and Arabic, constantly on the lookout for porn, hate speech or commercial interests. Violators had their inappropriate postings removed with ever-increasing speed and efficiency, and wayward members were banned permanently for repeat violations.

But the vast majority of members were kind souls who were grateful to have a forum where they could express themselves openly. In recent months more and more members were daring to show their real faces, expressing what can only be their own brand of Queer Pride.

Iraqi gays, I congratulate you on your indomitable spirit and will never forget your bravery, which has touched me deeply. I treasure the few of you who have become real friends too, and hope to keep you around forever.

But Facebook doesn't care about human rights, about the brutality of the antigay violence that continues to this day in Iraq, or about the plight of the oppressed. Facebook doesn't give a whit about its scorched-earth policies -- or that its claimed violations are invisible to the human eye. Facebook DOES want me to know that not only the group, but my personal profile will be removed if "I" continue to violate its nebulous and undefined standards. So go to hell Facebook. The blood of my beloved Iraqi gays is on your hands now.
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Erin Dary (user currently living in UNITED STATES) posted for gay lesbian bisexual intersex readers on 02/03/2014 tagged with intersex, gender identity, sexual orientation, religion
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When I graduated high school, I didn't know what I was. Hi, my name is Erin (Legally it's Eric). This website helped me to discover who and what I am.
When I graduated, I thought I was gay, then straight, then a girl, then a boy, then something else entirely. A different website helped me discover that I am something called Intersex.
If you don't know what that is, let me explain. It is both, which is cool, because my favorite kind of science is quantum physics. If you don't know what that is, look it up. If you do, then you understand.
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In the U.S context, prominent domestic organizations sought to establish LGBT normalcy and inclusion as a means of assimilating into the heterosexual mainstream in order to change the minds and hearts of heterosexuals, pressuring local LBGT communities and individuals to give up their own sense of self and experience. I think its important to remember that stressing that " LGBTI people" are as normal as heterosexuals and deserve acceptance precisely because we are like every one else (aka straight people) was a political strategy. We need to remember what is normal and natural in society is constructed, our understandings of these categories are made up by mainstream society and politics. We should take pride in our difference and our queerness, we should not feel that we must make ourselves normal for others in order to feel good or enough or deserving of rights. there is no normal
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Dear Friends,

Many of my closeted acquaintances have been police agents, and they are (of course) the most screwed up people. However, I do believe that everyone who comes out becomes not only happier but also a better person. Please distribute the text below (or the pdf that you can get free of charge by emailing davidhuttner@yahoo.com) to your members who were once in the closet, and ask them to tell me whether my description of latent homosexuals doesn't accurately describe their former life in the closet. Sincerely, David Huttner
THE SPY I LOVED
(SECRETS TO THE RISE OF THE PEOPLES REPUBLIC OF CHINA)

Published by David Huttner at Amazon.com © 2013.
Version 3.2

Other nonfiction works of David Huttner that should be available at Amazon include:
Decoding the Deluge and Finding the Path for Civilization (3 volumes),
Irish Mythology, Passageway to Prehistory,
The First Christmas,
Stage II of the Revolution,
Just Say No to Latent Homosexual Crusades
The Nonfiction Works of David Huttner Summarized
Social Harmony as Measured by Music
Converting the World to English

This book is dedicated to Neil Heywood and the other courageous and moral individuals who exposed his murderers and brought them to justice. Their various nationalities don’t matter.

The word “spy” in my title refers only to the woman that I loved most recently and most deeply. When you love someone, you struggle to become one with him or her. Doing that gets harder and more involved the older you are and the more you know about yourself. That’s why it quite rightfully seems as if earlier loves were not loved at all compared to the most recent one. In truth – I’ve loved, tried to love or thought I loved many spies.
I have no choice but to try to love spies. They are the only people available to me. You see, I’m not a normal person in one way. I’m the author of a comprehensive, new social science. That means that either I’m the world’s best social scientist – by far; or I’m stark raving mad. You decide which. But you will need to accept this possibility of me being the world’s best social scientist in order to find the chronicle that follows credible. Please do read my books; and if you can’t download them at Amazon, Kindle or Smashwords.com, raise bloody hell in defense of our political and civil rights. The books unveil the basic outline of our prehistory and provide a new understanding of our religions, east-west differences and the class struggle. With these subjects understood, the prescription for a problem-free, sustainable world in which everyone is able to enjoy heterosexual love with the perfect partner – falls right out. Any two year old could draw the right conclusions. Moreover, as my little book, Stage II of the Revolution explains, we lack only one piece of software to carry out this prescription, to turn our world into a paradise. Developing that software would only require some government to assemble an appropriate team of geneticists and bioinformatics experts and throw a few million dollars at them. This could be easily accomplished if any government was willing to improve itself and lead its people in undertaking fundamental change. None is. I’ll show you why.
Why me and not some other American? Why did I become the social science guy and not one of the other seven billion plus people on this planet? The answers are several and one of them is very complex. I’m describing it in a screenplay entitled Heaven Sent. Heaven Sent is only half finished as I write these words. I’ll admit to you now that “George” never existed. George was the invisible alien to whom I attributed most of my discoveries in my last work, Just Say No to Latent Homosexual Crusades. No other work, unless it’s as censored as my works and unknown to me, has dared to openly describe people with same sex siblings, latent homosexual people, as having the problems they have. I had to create George in order to efface myself and avert the furor of all the big business moguls, politicians, (domestic) police agents and spies who were likely to be infuriated by this message. The present accounts will confirm Just Say No’s information about latently homosexual people a thousand times over. As another George, Orwell, predicted in his famous novel, 1984, latently homosexual people who are unable to love have achieved a virtual monopoly of the world’s wealth and power. They are the people who are everywhere causing, aggravating and maintaining problems. We must make them feel that they have permission to love the people they want to love so that they will be motivated by love instead of fear.
To quickly review latent homosexuality: those of us with two parents tend to love the opposite sex parent more than anyone else. He or she is the person we most want to be with and for whom we must find a substitute for love, for becoming whole, for developing from a mere for-itself into a for-itself that is also an in-itself (Sartre). Love means two people struggling to become one, developing common values and interests, becoming master and slave to one another, putting each other’s interests, trust and confidence ahead of those of all other third persons and groups and allowing no third person or group to come between you.
But in our ever more overpopulated and unequal opportunity world, in our ever more savage and insecure world, it is ever harder to find a Mr. or Ms. LooksRight who is willing and able to also be our Mr. or Ms. ThinksRight and DesireRight (our Mr. or Ms. Right per se). If we have a sibling, he or she is younger than the opposite sex parent and tends to become our model of beauty. Thus, a love-sex conflict develops. The more difficult it is for us to find love with an opposite sex parent substitute, the more we tend to focus our sexual fantasies and desires upon the sibling or a substitute for the sibling. If this desired sibling is of the opposite sex, we tend to become promiscuous. If he or she is of the same sex, we tend to become homosexual. But if we have two parents and a heterosexual role model, we cannot accept homosexual impulses. Rather than satisfy them, we deny and hide them. We become latent homosexuals (hidden homosexuals) who are unable to love because we won’t allow ourselves to love the people we want to love. Again, the more savage a society is [the greater the K and R strategies are and the lesser the equal opportunity and population control are within a society] the more likely are people with same sex siblings to become latent homosexuals.
The greater the homosexual impulses are the greater is the conflict within the latent homosexual person. To the extent that the person is conscious of these impulses, he or she suffers from conscious guilt and self-hatred. To that same extent, he or she seeks relief by lying, cheating, humiliating or coercing other people – lowering them in his or her own estimation. If you lie about something as basic as what sex you desire, then virtually all other lies are of lesser magnitude and easy to tell. To the extent that they are conscious of their homosexuality, latent homosexuals are natural liars, cheaters and thieves. To the extent that the impulses are repressed and unconscious, he or she suffers from unconscious quilt, the vague feeling that something about him or her is bad and unacceptable. To relieve this vague anxiety, he or she projects the inner conflict and looks for or creates some definable, external conflict to which the anxiety can be attributed and which can mask the anxiety’s real sources of internal conflict. For these reasons (the need to deceive, humiliate or coerce others and the need to always be fighting in some way), latent homosexual people are drawn into big, lucrative business and government (especially the police, the army, the judiciary and espionage) like metal filings to a magnet. The more overpopulated society becomes the more latent homosexual people dominate society’s power bases. This is the message of George Orwell’s prophetic, 1949 dystopian novel Nineteen Eighty-four. The fact that you will not find ANY similarly honest and realistic review of the book shows you how prophetic Orwell’s 1949 book was and how accurate my above description is.
The experiences that I’ll relate below will all further confirm this. They’ll confirm that latent homosexual people not only cause most of the world’s problems, but they also aggravate and preserve those problems because a problem-free world, such as I have designed and promote in my books, is terrifying to them. A problem-free world would unmask them and force them to deal with their inner conflict. It would force them to either gratify those impulses (become openly practicing homosexuals) or somehow eliminate those impulses. They despair of the possibility of making either of these most basic and important changes to themselves and tend to conclude that all fundamental change is impossible.
When politicians promise to bring change if elected, they have their latent homosexual tongues in their latent homosexual cheeks. They are not enticed by my books and the prospect they offer of a problem-free world in which everyone can enjoy heterosexual love with the perfect partner. Far from it. Such a scenario offers no incentive to them. They have no inkling of what heterosexual love is, and they are threatened by the prospect of a problem-free world. They are determining all the policies, especially the foreign policies, within every country in our contemporary world.
Because I’ve spent most of my life in the two most opposite and powerful countries, the United State and China, I will focus upon them. Both of these societies refuse to undergo the basic changes that they so desperately need to undergo. Instead of competing with each other by improving themselves, by strengthening themselves (the healthy, sane way to compete), they are competing by trying to take advantage of their rival’s weaknesses (the neurotic, latent homosexual way to compete). Western readers already know that this is true of the United States. I will show you below that it is also true of China.
My parents were both latently homosexual. My father encouraged his very precocious and imaginative son to fulfill the father’s political ambitions. For now, suffice it to say that Father’s motives for pushing me into politics were, as you would expect of any latent homosexual, not all noble. By the time that I was in high school, Father had gotten into real estate. He and a rich neighbor and friend of his wanted to use me and my political connections to get advance notice of where new highways and other public works would be built. This kind of political cronyism and thievery is the real estate equivalent of Wall Street’s insider trading. It goes on in every locality. Except when Indian and other public lands were sold off, in the US, this has always been candy store theft compared to the thieves’ banquet that occurs when socialist countries suddenly decide to become market economies and sell off public assets.
Not just his encouragement but also a series of fluke circumstances enabled me to be extremely successful in politics at an early age. The fluke circumstances are the subject of my coming screenplay, Heaven Sent. These circumstances brought me to the attention of the intelligence community. As an eighth grade kid, I was invited into the most prestigious men’s club in Indianapolis. There, lawyers trained me for public speaking and debate.
Three and a half years later, in the summer of 1966, the CIA decided to launch its first domestic operation. The Teenage Republican Clubs were launched in a handful of urban areas. The plan was to cultivate cadre, youths who would become political leaders, as the Young Pioneers groups were doing in Soviet Russia and China. I was tapped to become the leader of the Indianapolis area clubs. The Republican Party has controlled Indianapolis and Indiana for longer than anyone can remember; but during my stint as youth leader, we put our rival “Democratic” Party almost totally out of business. In the elections, we swept every office except the prosecutor’s office. My teenage clubs not only achieved all of our goals, but we also made money in the process! Politics is supposed to cost money. My groups operated in the black!
At the end of my stint as Republican youth leader, upon graduating from high school, I was Mayor Richard Lugar’s right hand boy, the golden boy of Indianapolis and Indiana. All things were possible for me. All doors were wide open.
There were only two problems. First, I was not latently homosexual. I actually believed in love and change. I wanted to play the biggest role I could in actually improving the world. I didn’t just want to take advantage of others, and I had learned – on the inside – how dirty and deceitful politics is. Secondly, in retrospect, it is clear that my background and allegiances were not narrow enough to make me a prime candidate for absorbing and accepting the one-sided ideology of the Ks. (See Endnote 1.) My mother had been born of an unmarried waif and given up for adoption. During my sophomore year of high school, when my parents were going through a divorce, I had lived with the family of an ironworker. Upon finishing high school, unable to get along with my father and working my way through college, I learned to sympathize with and partially identify with the people on the bottom.
I’ll never forget my moment of truth regarding democracy and general elections. I was at party headquarters stuffing envelopes at about five o’clock on a weekday afternoon. Everyone else had gone home except the party chairman and me. I’ll omit his name for the sake of his posterity. Never punish people for anything you learn while they are being open and honest and trying to help you.
“Do you know how we did it?” he asked. He was referring to the clean sweep we had made of the elections. “We” refers to “The Action Slate,” a cliché of young attorneys and other professionals. The group was centered about Richard Lugar, former school board chairman, ex naval intelligence officer and future six-term US Senator and Chairman of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee. They had organized for the purpose of taking over the Republican Party and local politics.
“How” I asked, naively.
I don’t remember his words verbatim, but the gist was as follows. “First we did some research. We drew up a list of all the wealthiest families in the county. Then we arranged private meetings with the patriarchs whereat we traded the right political promises for the lion’s share of the campaign contribution pledges.”
I decided then and there that my political career would end as soon as my stint as youth leader was over. My father and my girlfriend’s father were furious when I announced that I wanted to go to California for college. At a coastline, I would be more in touch with the outside world and people from other countries. I’d get a better education. My father couldn’t understand this. He thought that California’s allure was only due to my divorced mother living there. He was wrong. I knew also that in the University of California, Democratic Governor Pat Brown, using aerospace and defense industry money, had built the nation’s best public school system during the 1950s and 60s.
With no financial help from the family but relying on the local Republican Party for a part-time job that meshed with my studies, I started college at the regional campus of Indiana University as a student majoring in chemistry. My plan of those days was to go into medicine, but the Vietnam War was raging. It was difficult for me to take my mind off politics and international relations and stay focused on physical science.
A turning point came over semester break while I was visiting the Bloomington campus. There I met left wing students who were publishing their own newspaper. After a heated political debate, they convinced me that my sources of information were too limited. I promised to read the original Vietnam Reader by Marcus Raskin and Bernard Fall, French and American journalists. This book opened my eyes to American lies about Vietnam, and started what was to become a one hundred and eighty degree turnabout in my political outlook. At the end of the first year, my A grade average enabled me to transfer to the University of California at Riverside where that turnabout would continue.
Knowing that it would be some time yet before my financial conditions improved, I sold my VW bug and bought a Honda, 350-cc motorcycle. This little bike would provide me with the cheapest transportation in sunny, southern California. My hind end was still shaking for days after my arrival, but it got me there.
I found the part time jobs I needed and worked like hell until the spring of my sophomore (second) year, when I was able to prove financial independence and get some government financial aid and student loans that covered books and tuition. Soon after the start of school at Riverside, I changed my major from Chemistry to Comparative Economic Systems. I took all the courses I could under left-wing and avowed Marxist professors.
Soon I came to the attention of the American intelligence community again. But this time, I got their attention for the wrong reasons and ended up in their hot files. A close friend from high school who had joined the military and The Defense Intelligence Agency came out to California (or was sent out) to meet with me. He wanted to know if their latest intelligence was true. It was. Their own, numero uno trainee was headed in the opposite direction!
For the next twenty years, from 1969 to 1989, I fought an escalating war with the US intelligence community. The more they tried to coerce me, violate my civil rights and force me back into the fold, the more adamant I became in opposing them. After college, in 1971, in Riverside, the Vietnam War was still raging; and my draft number came up. There was no way that this young Marxist was going to fight for American imperialism. But I didn’t have the guts to do what Mohammed Ali did either. I didn’t want to go to prison to set the right example for other young men. Besides, I was an unknown person. What good would it do for an obscure guy like me to languish in prison? I had nothing physically wrong with me that would qualify me for 4F status and military exemption. Neither did I have a family that would help support me in Canada or Norway. I applied for conscientious objector status with my draft board in Indianapolis. But the draft board in this jurisdiction only recognized conscientious objectors who objected on religious grounds. I was objecting to the Vietnam War on political and humanitarian grounds. I got a job as an orderly at Methodist Hospital in Indianapolis while waiting for the draft board to rule on my case. I knew that I hadn’t a snowball’s chance in hell.
One weekend, in that summer of 1971, I was sitting in the student union of Butler University when a history professor I knew came up to me. I had met him during my freshman year at both IU Indianapolis and Butler’s Newman Center coffee house. He was a retired military man and – no doubt – an intelligence officer. When he offered to get me into a California National Guard unit, I readily accepted. This seemed a reasonable compromise because guard units are only rarely called up for active duty abroad. Prior to serving one weekend per month with the Colton California Armored Cavalry Unit of the National Guard, I was sent to Fort Knox, Kentucky for basic training and advanced individual training. When the results of our entrance exams came back, I was invited to go to Monterey, California language school to train as a spy. I declined the offer. This was unheard of at this time. Monterey Language School was considered a privilege and an honor. Upon leaving the military, its graduates had all the doors of the US Government open to them. For the next three months of basic training and advanced individual training as a scout attached to armor, they did everything to make my life hell and get me to change my political direction. After returning to California, the Colton guard unit gave me the same treatment. I stood firm but stoic in my position until the weekend when they started training us for riot duty. Defending the country from external attack would have been fine with me. That I could do. But how could a Marxist use military force to put down rioting poor people? Although the US communist party never trusted me and was full of FBI agents, I was enroute to reading about as much Marxism-Leninism as anyone. I considered it my duty to turn rioters into socialist revolutionaries. Many of the other men in the Southern California National Guard units were also college educated and left-leaning. We were being trained for riot duty, all of us from Southern California, at the Pomona Fair Grounds when I came up with the solution to this contradiction. I started to act like comedian, Woody Allen. When the commander said, “Right face,” I turned left. When he said, “About face,” I kept marching forward, etc. Soon everyone was doing the same. Discipline broke down everywhere. They had to call the weekend exercise to a premature halt; but before dismissing us, they herded us into the huge cow palace. A fuddy-duddy, old, weekend warrior with a riding crop and English riding breeches, climbed a ladder for an elevated podium to address the huge throng. As a comedian, he promised to be much better than the rest of us. So as he was climbing his ladder to the podium, my buddies and I were scurrying into the shadows at the back of the crowd.
He held up a megaphone and through it yelled, “I’m proud of the way you performed out there this weekend, men. I’m confident that if any civil disorder breaks out in Southern California, you men will be able to put it down. What do you say, men? Did you really learn something this weekend?”
In my most booming voice, I yelled out, “Hell no!”
One of my buddies added, “It was a waste of our time!”
With this, the whole cow palace erupted into peals of laughter. For the next several months I didn’t receive the usual notice to report for guard duty. My hope that they would just forget about me was ill considered. The next notice I did receive was a notice to report for active duty in the regular army. The demand for Marxist revolutionaries being what it was in the US, I was an extended undergraduate at this time, working on a second major in psychology. Within the UCR campus community, I put out the call for help. With the advice of friends, I found the right lawyer and the right psychiatrist in LA to help me. A plausible plan took shape. We would apply for my general discharge on the grounds of mental instability. My team of professionals would prepare the documents and the testimonials, but I would have to convince an army psychologist that I was nutty as a fruitcake, crazy. Of course, the CIA knew that I was as crazy as a fox, but the psychologist would be someone who had never met me. From the book of accepted psychiatric stereotypes, I chose catatonic schizophrenic. These folks are described as totally withdrawn and out of touch with their surroundings. For the appointed meeting, I dressed in blue jeans, a blue sweater and black shoes. I wanted to look cold. For a prop, a carried a blue laundry bag stuffed with dirty, smelly clothes and latched onto it as if it were a teddy bear.
“Come in, Private Huttner,” he said, opening the door to his office. “Have a seat. I’ll be with you in a moment.”
This little game of one-upmanship is a favorite ploy of latent homosexuals in all walks of life. They like to make you think that they are more important than you by making you wait for them. But for once, I was happy to play. It gave me a chance to look around his office and scope him out. I noticed that hanging on the wall behind his desk was a Christian cross with Jesus nailed to it. Blood was dripping from the hands and feet. Bingo! Here was a cuckoo that I could easily manipulate. I knew that I was home free.
He put down his pen and began with small talk intended to break the ice. I pretended not to hear and rarely answered. When I did answer his questions, it was with, “I don’t know” or “I’m not sure.” I could see that he was getting frustrated.
“Ok,” he said, “I’m going to say a word; and you say whatever pops into your mind.”
I stared out the window.
“Private Huttner… Private Huttner, do you understand what we’re doing?”
I let him call my name twice more and then waited five or ten seconds before returning my gaze and silently nodding.
“Table,” he said.
“Goose,” I answered.
“Thunder,” he said,
“Catalog,” I answered.
I honestly don’t remember his exact words, but I kept giving off the wall answers and watching his frustration mount. I refused to communicate, to touch bases with him. At the point where he seemed to know that one of us had to be crazy, I started laughing in response to whatever word he said. That was all that was needed to unhinge him. I could read his thoughts: “One of us is crazy, and it sure can’t be me.”
He grabbed his pen, scrawled something on the form in front of him and said, “I think that will be enough, Mr. Huttner. You can go home now.”
Free of the army and tired of school, I forayed into residential real estate and corporate sales (with Philip Morris). I did extremely well, but my heart wasn’t in either one, and I only stayed long enough to prove to my father that I was as good a salesman as he was.
Next, my love interest in a woman I met at Santa Monica Beach took me to LA. I courted Jill for a year while working at odd jobs, but I was unable to marry her for three reasons. First, I had left my high school girl friend “intact.” The college girlfriends had been too ambitious to marry a Marxist, which in the US is equivalent to “pariah.” My wife had to be a virgin, and this lady was a divorced woman. Second, someone was influencing her behind my back, coming between us. That will always prevent two people from becoming one, as love requires. Third, that someone could not be her psychiatrist father in Connecticut as she claimed. Whoever it was, he was a superb and permanently behind-the-scenes game player. When we were getting down to the nitty-gritty of our negotiations, an expensive, honeymoon package for two in Las Vegas arrived at my door. Again, the CIA was on my tail. I said permanently goodbye to her and moved to San Francisco a few days later.
In San Francisco, I worked as a maitre d’ in boarding houses for my room and board, played poker at night for my spending money and read world history and communist party literature or worked as a legal process server in the afternoons. When the reading material ran out, I started working with the Longshoremen’s and Warehouse Workers’ Union, Local 6. I was only a few days away from getting my union book (full membership in the union) when another guy picked a fight with me. Little did I know that this would cost me my seniority and send me back to square one with the union. In retrospect, I know that the antagonist had to be an FBI agent.
My next job was with the Yellow Cab Company, the biggest taxi company in San Francisco at that time (1975). I said to myself, “David, at last you’ve found a job that the police can’t bounce you out of. Nobody else wants it.”
But I was wrong. After six months on that job, it was time for the union elections. I had been a fixture at the local communist party bookstore in the Mission District but had despaired of joining the party. Why? Two reasons: first, I admitted to having been trained by the CIA; and they didn’t trust me. Secondly, at a party class, the only one I ever attended, the instructor vehemently denied that overpopulation could be a problem and cursed Thomas Malthus as a scoundrel. Even at this early stage of my education, I could see that Malthus was one-sided but correct in what he said. I could not submit to the discipline of any group this unrealistic. Accordingly, I fully supported the communist party slate of candidates for the taxi drivers’ union offices; but I marched separately. I did my own agitating, especially for unity between the so-called “black” and “white” drivers, a major issue at this time. The ballots were to be signed and cast by a Friday afternoon at the close of the day shift (5 PM). We were told that a private company had been hired to count them and that they would announce the results on the following Monday. When the day shift guys showed up for work on Monday, the cars were impounded, the gates were locked and armed guards were standing everywhere. So much for democracy in the Land of the Free.
Still a zealous but party less Marxist, I packed my bags and moved to Berlin, Germany. I don’t think I ever spoke English even once during the five months that I lived there. Although German had always been my worst subject in school, I was determined to master it and make Germany my new home. I rented a room above a tavern (kneipe) in Tegel, the French quarter. In Reinickendorf, I found a job working as a laborer in a factory that made ovens for the ceramics industry. I was attending meetings of the SEP, Socialistische Einheit’s Partei, when my factory declared bankruptcy. With no social life and unemployed (or so I thought, not understanding that the government would take over the factory), I flew to London. My intention was to travel on to Ireland. An agent provocateur sat next to me on the plane. The idiot said his name was Held (hero). I ignored him. In the immigration line at Gatwick Airport, two other police agents converged on the immigration officer just as I got before him. They whispered something that I couldn’t make out and left. When I stepped forward, he asked for my passport and nonchalantly asked if I might want to stay in the UK.
“Why not?” I responded.
That was the wrong answer. It became their lawful excuse for telling me that I could not enter the country and would have to choose a flight out. Freddy Laker had a $500 flight to New York City. I took it.
I was in New York for only about a month, living in a basement apartment in Long Island City, driving the day shift with a nearby taxi company and trying to become a member of CPUSA when I met Beatrice. I picked her up at Kennedy Airport. She was returning to the country from abroad or so she said. She was nineteen years my senior. I did not have the same powerful, physical attraction for her that I had had for my high school girlfriend and several others. But Beatrice understood me and accepted me. She told me that she worked as a translator at the United Nations (Spanish, French and English). She had a small but comfortable apartment at Tutor City, across the street from the UN. She never mastered philosophy, but – philosophy notwithstanding – Beatrice was the most intelligent and educated woman I’ve ever known. Social outcast that I was, I had no prospects that compared to her. We started dating, and soon we were living together.
I had to tell the Party about Beatrice and did. Within a week the Party member who was working with me called me in for a private talk. “Beatrice works for the CIA,” he said.
I should have known. I’m simply not allowed to marry or even date anyone who’s not a spy or police informer. But the Party had more to say: “You’ll have to leave her,” he said.
This was really bad news. Here was the only woman that I’d ever been able to get along with, the only woman that seemed to both love and accept me, one of only two female, heterosexual police agents I ever had the pleasure of knowing; and they were telling me that I had to leave her. What was their alternative? In San Francisco, I had been introduced to one woman whom I desired, but she was divorced and had a child. She too was not the beautiful virgin that I once lost and still needed. What American woman over the age of seventeen is? Moreover, all the party people seemed to resent me for having come from a more privileged background and having been trained by the CIA. I had only two choices: stay with Beatrice and try to influence the capitalists in a positive way or be a perpetual outsider and on-hanger with the Party. I chose the former.
For the next twenty-seven years, I lived in New York City. I had almost no social life. I worked in a taxi most of that time – eighty hours per week. I saved the little money that I made. What else could I do with it? I occasionally went on trips around the world with Beatrice. In all, we traveled to over twenty countries; but our relationship quickly dwindled into a mere friendship. She couldn’t be honest with me about her CIA work; and, until Perestroika time, I pretended not to know. Although I am certain that Beatrice loved me, I was under no obligation to be honest and faithful to someone who was not honest with me. I had ceased to believe in love long before I even met her, and I didn’t resist the temptation to have affairs whenever the opportunities arose. Education provided the only continuity in my loveless life and still does. It’s the optimistic side of the serenity prayer. I kept studying world literature and Marxism. I kept up with current events.
After I paid off the note on my taxi, paid off my medallion (taxi owner’s permit), “my tin” as we say, I started working fewer hours. At about this time, my paternal grandmother, who had always done whatever she could to help me and whom I loved dearly, went into a nursing home. I flew several times out to LA to be with her. In Grandma’s nursing home, I met Lupe, a twenty-eight year old Mexican woman, an illegal immigrant who had walked across the border with relatives. Lupe appeared innocent. She was definitely virginal and lovely, but she was uneducated and a devout Catholic. It was stupid of me not to know that she was either already cooperating with the CIA or would be corrupted by them. In retrospect, I know that she was already working as a police informer when I met her because she was unafraid of being deported. I deflowered Lupe (the worst mistake of my life), divorced Beatrice and married Lupe. I didn’t want to lose Beatrice as a friend, so I tolerated it when the CIA used Beatrice to funnel money to Lupe and the two children that we had together. I never wanted more than one child, but Lupe tricked me into conceiving a second one. Wow, does that ever do wonders for a marriage! Beatrice was able to tolerate Lupe, the woman who took me from her, apparently because she knew that Lupe was a police informer and (unlike Beatrice and myself) a latent homosexual. Beatrice enjoyed watching me suffer with Lupe. The loves of Lupe’s life have been her sister and her female cousin and next door neighbor in their little Mexican village. By the way, the litmus test of sexual orientation (what one really desires as opposed to what one does) is whether or not a person consistently prefers oral sex. I wasn’t sure that Lupe was betraying me to the police until a particular incident confirmed this long-held suspicion.
The Wheel of Fortune television game show people came to the Lexington Hotel to hold tryouts for their show. This was circa 1990, more than four years into my marriage with Lupe. This was about one year after I made the social science discovery of the century and perhaps the millennium. At that time, the police were working harder than ever to keep me under control and my work under wraps. I heard about the tryouts, showed up and scored high enough to qualify for being on the show. They give you a page full of puzzles (place names, idioms, proverbs, etc,) with most of the letters missing. You have to guess what goes in the blanks, just as they do on the TV show. It’s not unusual for contestants to win tens of thousands of dollars in cash and prizes in just thirty minutes. However, there was a second hurtle, a simple one that all of us had to pass. We had to jump up and down and act excited as the winners do on the show. Prior to this, they asked all of us if we had a spouse who was an ethnic minority person. I raised my hand and told them that my wife was Mexican. “Get her down here,” they said. Now they were doing the jumping up and down in anticipation of increasing their viewing audience. I phoned Lupe and told her to hop on the F or the E train, both of which stopped two blocks from our home and at the corner by the Lexington Hotel. Her refusal to come had only one possible explanation: the police didn’t want me on this show where I might gain fortune or fame and get out of their control.
Oh, as for the social science discovery of the millennium, Lupe, our son Daniel and I were vacationing in her little Mexican village in the summer of 1989. I spent most of my time holed up in a room with a suitcase full of books. As I explain in the Preface of Decoding the Deluge, it was there that the light went on for me. It was then and there that I realized that “the Flood” is symbolic of the Species War, the most violent and traumatic series of events in the life of man and the cryptic major subject of all our religions. I had to coin the term “Species War.”
It was from that moment on that the US government started treating me as a wonder of the world, a wonder that they wanted to keep hidden. Through Random House Publishers they encouraged me to keep researching and writing. Through Beatrice, they provided my family with everything they could think to ask for and more. I rarely asked for anything because I didn’t want to be beholden to the CIA and the elite American ruling class. I had to accept the limousines they gave me because I felt I had to work, and they wouldn’t let me do anything else but drive a limo. I had to have several because one caught on fire and burned up. Another was totaled by Lupe in an accident. However, I didn’t drive the limos for long because I couldn’t stand the wealthy clients. They all marry for money. They are all miserable, and they make everyone around them miserable. I preferred to drive a taxi and to deal with young, armed, angry, young black men than to tolerate the arrogance and impudence of the rich.
I drove the limo or continued to drive taxis during the years, from 1989 to 2004, when I was continually expanding and developing my major work, the three volume Decoding the Deluge and Finding the Path for Civilization and its supplement, Irish Mythology, Passageway to Prehistory. The more the works improved, the more impatient I was to have them published and the more desperate were the police to suppress them. Several incidents from this period merit retelling.
There was a certain FBI agent working undercover on Wall Street who kept hiring me once or twice a week to drive him from Lehman Brothers to his home in Darien, Connecticut. It was especially easy for me to ID this guy because I too had trained for stock brokerage. I had worked briefly for two different brokerage firms after passing the Series 7 Exam. The police had no intention of really letting me do the job, so they sat me in a corner and had me cold calling from a book of leads that everyone had gone over a thousand times. At any rate, I knew the business and police agents well enough to spot this guy. He kept asking about my books. One day he said to me, “You know, Dave, I think the Catholic Church might buy your books!”
Of course, he meant buy them in order to bury them. Among other things, my books offer a new and scientific understanding of religion – all religions pagan and modern and all the strange phenomena connected with religion. Religious folks, especially clergy, feel extremely threatened by my books. I had no intention of selling out to those scoundrels. I’d sooner die, but I wanted to play with them. So I said, “Not for less than $33,000,000 they won’t.”
About a month later, I got a call from a French diplomat, an acquaintance of mine who lived at 45 Tutor City Place, immediately across the street from the UN, the building where Beatrice continued to live till the day she died and where I lived for thirteen years with her. When I showed up in my limo to pick the guy up, he walked out with a cardinal, a cardinal that had come all the way from the Vatican! He wore the miter cap, the spooky robes – the whole spiel! He had come to negotiate with me but was pretending to have met me by coincidence. Negotiations never got started because I couldn’t stop laughing.
In the early stages of my book’s development, I gave copies to the governments that the US government could least control. Through their consulates in NYC, I gave copies to the Soviets, the Chinese, the Vietnamese, the Cubans and the Japanese. Japanese art dealers became my best limo customers. Through Beatrice, the CIA offered to send me to medical school. I had only about one fourth of the prerequisite courses, but that didn’t matter to them. They just wanted to distract me from trying to publish or distribute copies of my books. When I grasped the true, K and R meaning of the class struggle (See Endnote 1), I shared it immediately with Beatrice and also told her at that time how early I had known her to be working for the CIA. Shortly after Perestroika, when I discovered the meaning of the Flood myths, I had also immediately told Beatrice. You might think, as I did then, that every sane person would want to make the compromises necessary to minimize K and R and civilize the world. You might think that every sane person, especially after being told of the possibility of developing the Stage II system of marriage and child-rearing that I divined in 2011, would want to maximize equal opportunity and population control. But if you think so, it can only be because you still don’t understand that the vast majority of big business people, politicians and secret police agents (spies) are all latent homosexuals. They are terrified of fundamental change and oblivious to love. Love can’t exist for them, and it only makes them resentful to see others enjoy love and sex.
As NIMH experimental psychologist John Calhoun foresaw in the 1950s, as I argue in the conclusion of The Nonfiction Works of David Huttner Summarized and as any insightful person should now suspect, latent homosexuals will soon feel very free to act upon their impulses if we don’t change or bypass them so as to minimize the K and R class struggle. A homosexual world is the default outcome of a savage K and R world. The only long-run alternative to maximizing equal opportunity and population control (civilizing the world) and implementing a Stage II marriage and child-rearing system (enabling everyone to enjoy heterosexual love with the ideal partner) – is a homosexual world, a world that is civilized only to the extent that its denizens are homosexual.
But back in New York, in the 1990s, my kids were still young and needed their father; so I was stuck in my loveless marriage to Lupe. I had to be patient with the books. Rather than accept their offer of medical school, I decided to go to law school. Beatrice and the CIA didn’t want me to become a lawyer. They especially didn’t want me to attend CUNY Law School, which was just a couple of miles away from our Briarwood apartment. Haywood Burns was still alive then and the Dean of CUNY Law School. Haywood was a very progressive, free-thinker. I don’t think they wanted Haywood and I getting together; so when I insisted upon going to law school, a full scholarship from Tulsa University (Oil U.) arrived in the mail.
While I was at Tulsa in my first year of law school, two things of note happened. Haywood and a female law professor colleague died in what was made to look like a traffic accident just one day before they were to appear on South African television touting a proposed constitution that they had written. Two or three years after this “accident,” a met a member of Haywood’s family who told me of how the limousine driver came all the way from South Africa to Haywood’s New York family. He came to beg their forgiveness. He had been told to stop the limousine in the middle of a remote intersection and run out of the car. The boy had been too dumb to add two and two together until after a truck speeding down an adjacent hill rammed into the limo, killing both Haywood and his colleague.
It was also during this first year of law school, at Tulsa, that the CIA sent Li Zhou to be my concubine. Her alleged job was to keep me busy and not influencing the local rednecks. The CIA was too stupid to know that Li was a double agent. She swore before I became intimate with her that she was an only child, but she wanted only oral sex. Only after I analyzed a recurrent dream for her, a dream wherein a woman kept approaching her from under the desk where she was sitting, did she realize and admit that the dream was erotic and the woman was her sister who had died in childbirth and was “under the ground.” She was also living at one point with a woman who was obviously a dyke. Latent homosexual or not, my plan was to take Li with me to Guangzhou, China, where I hoped to start my publishing company. Wow, did I have a lot to learn! But I’m not a slow learner except when my heart gets in the way, as it did with Jacline, whom we’ll meet below. When Li, like Beatrice, Lupe and others, couldn’t even hold on to the copy of my works that I would give her to study, I knew that she had to be either working for the CIA or at least pretending to work for them. She was a sweet gal, and I knew that the latter was more likely. Either way, I wanted to protect her by acting disappointed in her and leaving her. There will be more to learn about Li, later.
I pulled only a B average at Tulsa and had no interest in settling down there, so they didn’t renew my scholarship after the first year. I went through the second and third years of law school at CUNY, back in Queens, New York. Both years were uneventful except for breaking an ACL (anterior cruciate ligament). I broke it during the last year while training for a race that I had won within my age group the previous year. Imagine how those babies who miss school for a cold must have felt when this forty-eight year old man showed up for classes the next day with his leg swelled up like a balloon! I passed the New York State Bar Exam at the first opportunity that summer. I got one of the highest grades in my graduating class, so high that I didn’t have to sit for the second day of the exam, the essay writing day. I knew I had to nail the machine-graded Multistate Exam because the essay grading is subjective and allows the police agents to murder all the left-wing people.
Yet the CIA had the audacity to use the “character and fitness” committee to block my admission to the bar. This was really a low blow. How much character does one need to become an American lawyer? On the social respectability scale, they rank somewhere between used car salesmen and prostitutes. (We joke less about the prostitutes. ) Their only reason for rejecting me that was not an outright lie was their observation that I had lied to the US military to get out of the army. I appealed on the grounds that no one has any duty to be truthful with a compulsive liar, and I submitted a copy of The Vietnam Reader with my appeal. At the hearing, a senior member of Murder Inc. (a nickname for the CIA) appeared and terrorized everyone by making no attempt to hide his identity. He knew more about me than I could remember about myself. He knew everywhere that I had ever worked or lived for even a day! His first question and greatest concern was, “What if anything do you know about the murder of President John F Kennedy?”
A hush fell over the room. Everyone has heard about the many people in Dallas who died of mysterious causes after coming forth publically and claiming to have seen or heard more than one gunman. Whenever the subject of the Kennedys, the independence of the American judiciary or the great Justice Jackson quote came up at law school, I was in the habit of rousing people from their unconsciousness. I would tell them, “We all know unconsciously that the assassination of President Kennedy was a coup de tat within our own country and that the richest and most powerful Americans were behind the murder. The logic is simple and unequivocal. The alleged murderer, Lee Harvey Oswald, was shot while in the custody of Dallas police at Dallas police headquarters. We all saw the videotape on TV. There could be no doubt prior to the murder of Oswald that he was going to fry for any involvement he had in the Kennedy assassination. Oswald’s murderer, Jack Ruby, was not a personal friend of the President or his family, but he was a known racketeer and Mafioso. Ruby or his principals could only have had one motive for killing Oswald as they did. Their motive was to shut his mouth, to prevent Oswald from implicating others in the Kennedy assassination. If the richest and most powerful Americans did not already know what Oswald and Ruby knew and if they had wanted the public to know whatever Oswald and Ruby knew, then they would have forced Ruby to talk. The CIA and the American State Department have never been adverse to using torture when they’ve needed it. In fact, they have trained their counterparts in the use of torture in numerous countries. The fact that the richest and most powerful Americans did not make Ruby talk, the fact that he died in prison of an alleged heart attack over three years later, assures us of the converse. It assures us that the richest and most powerful Americans already knew and did not want the public to know whatever Oswald and Ruby knew about other conspirators in the assassination. Americans all know unconsciously what happened and have been living under a reign of terror ever since.”
Of course, I didn’t want to have to say this to the CIA, on the record at a hearing. Had I done so, everyone in the room might have been murdered. So I simply said, “I don’t know anything that isn’t already a matter of public record and accessible to everyone.” This was, of course, true. When I said this, everyone in the room, including the CIA agent, breathed a huge sigh of relief. Nevertheless, the little schlemiels of the Character and Fitness Committee did as they were ordered. They blocked my admission to the bar and stole my right to practice law. The CIA made it perfectly clear in private consultation what they expected from me. I had to stop all efforts to disseminate my books or forever forego the right to practice law in the USA.
Under no circumstances would I stop trying to publish my books. Since Li would not be available, my next thought was to ask, “What woman from your past might be a suitable wife and publishing partner?” Peggy Lynn came immediately to mind. Peggy was a very smart gal who had attended a special, “gifted” school with me during our eighth grade school year. She had also attended high school with me. She would be able to appreciate my books. But I had long lost contact with her. How was I to find her. There were about one hundred Peggy Lynns listed in American phone books. I didn’t let that stop me. I put together the list and started calling. It took me about a week of searching using my home computer and the phone. When I finally found her and after the initial formalities, the conversation went like this:
“Peggy, I am the author of a comprehensive, new social science. My books are earth-shaking, but the US government is censoring me. I need a smart, dedicated and determined wife and publishing partner to help me get the books out.”
“You’re too late, Dave. Just yesterday I accepted a new job at NASA, in Houston, Texas.”
I immediately smelled a rat. “Had you been looking for a job, Peggy?”
“No.”
“Had you sent out any resumes?”
“No.”
“So this job offer just came to you out of the blue?”
“Yes.”
“What had you been doing previously?”
“For years, I’ve worked as a database manager in a hospital.”
“Nuts,” I thought, “database manager and accountant are the first two positions I need to fill.” Then I challenged her, “Peggy, do you think that NASA tapped you to work for them because they had heard what a great database manager you were?”
“Yeah…”
“No, Peggy. The secret police were monitoring my efforts to find you, and they got to you before I did.”
It took Peggy two more years to read my books and realize that I was right. By that time, someone at NASA had married her. I cite this anecdote just to show you that the Americans, in addition to being good at electronic eavesdropping and remote surveillance, are past masters at every form of bribery. They bribed Peggy without her realizing it. You should also conclude from this to what lengths the “champions of freedom and democracy” are willing to go to in order to censor political thought. I say “political” because politics ought to be synonymous with applied social science. Our politics is limited to concentrated expressions of economics because we are still such unconscious savages.
Actually, the CIA message that I had to desist from all publishing efforts if I wanted to practice law in the USA was an even worse one: stop publishing or you’ll never practice law anywhere in the west. I already had enough experience with the Cubans and the Russians to know that the Chinese had become the leaders and were calling the shots within the socialist camp. I could only surmise that the same was true of the Americans and the capitalist camp. Experience had yet to verify this, but it soon did.
On the night before 9/11/2001, I went to bed with my bag packed with the traveling gear, my passport and a ticket to Iceland. I was still living in the Briarwood, Queens apartment with Lupe but sleeping in a separate bedroom whenever possible. That night, pleasant fantasies of life in a new and freer country danced in my dreams. The flight was for 2 PM. The airport, Kennedy, was only a few miles away. I could sleep in. At around 10:30 AM, I awoke to a phone call and Beatrice’s voice saying, “David, planes have hit the World Trade Center Towers.”
My first thought was, “She’s still having trouble with the singular and plural forms of English nouns.”
“You mean that a plane has hit the World Trade Center?” I asked. It took me a while to shake away the cobwebs and grasp what she was telling me. It took me several years to learn the truth as it gradually leaked out. When I did learn the truth, I uploaded a YouTube video of the exposé, Loose Change, to my blogs. That was sufficient to get my blogs permanently censored. These blogs, whereon I had hoped to sell my books, had already been censored most of the time. Some police agent or police agent group was continually disabling the functions as they had done with three Stores Online websites that I had purchased years earlier.
The socialist camp is cooperating with the 9/11 cover-up, is not telling the world that it was an inside job. It was, in fact, a hoax intended to provide a false pretext for invading Afghanistan. The big oil gangsters in both the “capitalist” (mk) camp and the “socialist” (fr) camp are enforcing the 9/11 cover-up because they are determined to monopolize oil and force it down our throats at any cost. We desperately need to switch from fossil fuels to a mix of solar, wind, hydrogen and (especially) geothermal energy. Of course, the problem is that none of these clean, renewable energy sources can be monopolized. That’s why the latent homosexual, oil gangsters don’t want them. I have a practical design in mind for a vertical axis, in-the-hole, geothermal, electricity generator. I will give the design to the first power company that asks me for it at davidhuttner@yahoo.com. All I’ll expect in return is for this company to pay my electric bills for the rest of my life and the life of any surviving spouse. Switching to geothermal energy will end global warming, reinvigorate the world’s economy, enable us to prevent earth quakes and volcanoes, and end the war with the Moslem world. To end the war with the Moslem world, we must also publish my books, books that explain in non-poetic, scientific language what our prehistory and our religions are all about.
By the way, in addition to all the accurate information on 9/11 that you can find if you dig hard enough, I have my own to add. About four months after 9/11, while Osama bin Laden was allegedly the world’s most hunted man, I was listening on my taxi radio to Georgie-Boy Bush’s State of the Union Address. As the stream of lies, half-truths and illusions poured from Georgie’s mouth, I picked up a distinguished elderly gentleman and a young woman at Lincoln Center. They were going to the northeast side. While stopped at the traffic light on 65th and Central Park West, I started laughing at whatever Bush was saying at the time.
The woman in the back seat said, “I take it you don’t like our president either.”
I said, “He belongs in the docks of the ICC, the International Criminal Court, at the Hague.”
Then the elderly gentleman spoke up with, “We couldn’t agree with you more. May I tell you what I know personally?”
“Please do,” I said.
‘I’m a kidney specialist. My friend is the world’s leading kidney specialist. He has the smallest and best renal dialysis machine, a machine that he designed himself. Not long ago, while Osama bin Laden was already on America’s most wanted list, military men came to his apartment in the middle of the night. “Get dressed and come with us,” they said, “and bring your machine.” They flew him to the American Military Hospital in Dubai where he was brought before Osama bin Laden, ordered to examine him and ordered to give Osama his machine. Thereafter, they flew my friend home.’
I told all this to CPUSA the next day, but the socialist countries continue to support the American lies about 9/11.
After the “attack” on 9/11/2001, except for a US Air Force plane that was flying around the country, picking up members of the bin Laden family and flying them safely back to Saudi Arabia, all flights over US airspace were canceled. I had to wait two days to fly to Iceland. I liked Iceland but wasn’t accorded the same privileges that other visiting Americans had. I was not allowed to stay any longer than my return flight ticket date. There was also, at least at that time, a large American military base just outside of Reykjavik. These two facts left me with no doubt that the Americans controlled the place.
Returning to the US, I continued to make unsuccessful attempts to get my books out until I decided to make another attempt at emigration. I decided that I might try either Ireland or Finland. Some of my ancestors were from Ireland, and one of my books was Irish Mythology, Passageway to Prehistory. Several people had been talking up Finland to me as a nice country with beautiful women. I flew to Ireland first. Packed into a suitcase that I brought was a custom-made travel bike. My plan was to cycle around Ireland giving out free CDs of my books. On day two, I left Dublin and cycled south. At day’s end, I stopped in a little town called Carlowe and rented a room at their youth hostel. That night, I was having a beer at their bar with two other guys. The clerk on duty at the time was seated only a few feet away and privy to our conversation. This clerk was a belligerent fellow, built like a fire plug. Now, I am candid and opinionated but not rude. Whatever irreligious comment I made was totally within my right to make. But this fire plug here in Catholic Ireland thought otherwise. He attacked me. He charged at me like a bull. Fortunately, sensing that this guy was crazy, I had surveyed the room, especially the area behind me. I knew that it was packed with extra, wooden tables and chairs. His intent was to crush me between his own body and those wooden tables and chairs. So I reversed him. I swung him around and charged with him in the same direction. His backside absorbed the impact. The fight was over in no time. It left me with a bruised rib, but he had a broken coccyx (tailbone). He couldn’t sit down, as I calmly invited him to do afterward, and had to go to the hospital. I stayed but slept very uneasily that night. The next morning I decided to explore the town before leaving. I had the manager lock my computer in a store room. When I returned to check out, the computer was gone, stolen. The police were perfunctory in making the criminal report. I knew I had to leave Ireland a.s.a.p., so I went straight to the Shannon Airport and bought a ticket for Finland.
Finland and Helsinki were indeed beautiful, but this was February – not the best time of year to be there. As soon as I’d open the hostel door, the snot would start running from my nose and freeze before it hit my upper lip. The cold was to be expected. Tujia was not. She was waiting at the elevator the first time I left my room. She was around forty, chestnut hair and quite beautiful. My intuition told me within seconds of seeing her at the elevator that she had been waiting for me there, that she was a police agent. We walked around the town and had a drink before going back to my room. I had the powerful attraction for her that she feigned for me. I soon sensed that she was the reason I had recently heard so many good things about Finland and its women. She sat on a chair in the middle of the room as I unpacked things.
“Do you want me to suck your cock,” she said.
“Only if you’ll let me reciprocate,” I answered.
After explaining to her what “reciprocate” meant, she screwed up her face and said, “No, I smell.”
“That’s OK,” I continued.
“No,” she insisted. Either she drank an awful lot, or she knew that her job required her to make me like her more than she liked me. Of course I was experienced with and wise to the clumsy, western police agent forms of manipulation. As you’ll soon see, as liars and manipulators, even the craftiest of our women are mere kindergarten kids compared to the Chinese.
Tujia and I spent a day or two together in Helsinki, admiring each other. She told me that she was independently wealthy as a result of having founded a medical business of some sort. I didn’t press her for details because it was an obvious lie. She suggested that we marry and spend the rest of our lives traveling around the world. I’m sure she knew that I knew the truth because she made little effort to support and disguise the lies.
“Does it matter where we make our permanent residence,” I asked?
“Yes,” she said. “We’ll have to make our permanent residence in the U.S.”
Bingo! This gorgeous, latent homosexual, Finnish police agent was under the control of the CIA. I returned to New York without her.
Just imagine how frustrated I was, how sick and tired I was of police agents and the insane efforts of the US government and ruling class to suppress and control my books! It was impossible for me to make any money on my censored work, so I decided to start giving out my books free of charge on CDs to taxi passengers. When I started doing this, in April of 2004, diplomats at the Chinese consulate invited me to come to China “to teach English to nurses.” It shouldn’t be difficult for most of you to imagine what sort of man I was at that time. I had been raised in a typically, dysfunctional American family. I had lived most of my adult life in New York City, where the inequality of opportunity and the insecurity of the male-dominated, K society is as bad as or worse than anywhere. I was twice divorced. I had been surrounded by police agents throughout my adult life. All but two or three of the female ones had been latent homosexuals. Since 1989, the police interference in my life had been intense. I had long ago ceased to believe in lasting love and monogamous marriage, and my book was totally incorrect on these subjects. The Chinese Government, of course, knew all this. But I had yet to learn that, like the American government, the Chinese also wanted to commandeer and edit my books. Whether they want to alter them to support their publically pronounced FR and national socialist prejudices and illusions or to support their new rich K leaders is still open to question. (See Endnotes I and 6 for R and F.)
But when they offered to let me teach English to Shanghai nurses, I said, “Let’s go.”
When I got to Shanghai, less than a month later, my contact person (for whom I had only a phone number) told me, “Sorry, that project fell through. Find yourself another job.”
I had a BA and a law degree but only two days of teaching experience. At a ghetto high school in New York, in an economics class, I had tried to supplement Adam Smith’s praise of the “hidden hand of free competition" with a Marxist description of secret cartel agreements and price fixing. For this, the Land of the Free had branded me as a communist and told me to teach typing or nothing. I had chosen the latter and had laughed through my tears when, only about one year later, the FBI accidentally stumbled upon the Archer Daniels Midland, global grain cartel.
But back in Shanghai, what was I to do? I did what was needed to most quickly land a job. In about a month’s time, I acquired an online TOEFL (Teaching English as a Foreign Language) certificate. Once I had that, I was offered a job in Nantong, Jiangsu, a third tier city a couple of hours north of Shanghai.
My first job was at a very ordinary elementary school, but I knew at the back of my mind that they had to have bigger plans for me. I was in no hurry to find out what those plans were. I needed to reconnoiter this strange new land. Everything was different except for the designs of things and technology. Except for the traditional Chinese art, all the designs and technology had been copied from the west. My informed suspicion, of them having bigger plans for me, was confirmed on my first weekend when I strolled behind my dormitory to watch some guys playing soccer on the athletic field.
It was there, behind the dorm, that I met Jacline. Most of what I learned about her and China was learned over an extended period of time by observation, innuendo and insight – almost never by direct disclosure from Chinese people. The Chinese are anything but open, so I’ll have to summarize a huge amount of background information.
Jacline (Xiaoxia is her Chinese name) was born in 1970, into a relatively educated and ambitious family in Jiangsu Province, one of the richest provinces of China. This was the time of the Cultural Revolution. She was a much loved, precocious child. When she was three years old, she was taken to live in a Young Pioneers camp, where she was indoctrinated in Marxism and the national socialist propaganda of the Chinese state.
Unless they are mistreated (and few if any of the Yong Pioneers have been), children at age three are not critical thinkers. They trust whoever feeds and teaches them and will blindly believe whatever they are told. What they are told here is just an extension and intensification of what they already believe as a result of having to learn the absurdly difficult and archaic Chinese language from their mothers. In order to learn the language, they have to glue their ear to mothers’ mouths and memorize the sound of her voice saying every word in Chinese. In order to do this, they almost have to believe that mother is perfect. (See Decoding the Deluge, volume 1, Chapter 13 on east-west differences.) At Young Pioneer’s Camp, they are told that, except for some confused people of historical note, the ancestors too were perfect. The Chinese language and culture are perfect. The government and the Party are perfect. The leaders are perfect, and their directives must be blindly followed and their ways imitated. All of these messages and cronyism instead of socialist democracy (democratic centralism) are welcomed by the Chinese people because this female-dominated society is terrified of change. For love and family life to work well, the woman must not err in choosing her man; and the best way to not err is to not try anything new. Even today, when Chinese people watch television, at least ninety percent of the time, they are watching something set in the Chin Dynasty.
Unfortunately, fearing change as they do means that the Chinese people cannot improve themselves because improvement requires change. All the progress made in China over the past sixty four years is owing to the learning of new western skills and making the corresponding improvements in the material standards of living. Chinese culture and human relations haven’t changed at all. They are thriving in the world not by making themselves better and stronger (the healthy way to compete) but by taking advantage of their rivals’ weaknesses (the neurotic, latent homosexual way to compete).
I don’t know the details of Young Pioneer’s Camp. I’ve heard conflicting stories. I can’t say for certain whether they are just local kindergartens or camps that some of the children travel to and live at. However, even the kindergartens take children as young as age two and last until the start of grade school at age six.
The national socialist indoctrination and emphasis on national unity has not changed. If anything, it has increased; and what was once applied only to fledgling communist party cadres is now applied to all of the people, beginning in their first school or preschool year. What was a nation of backward peasants had to be united as a single person with one will in order to defeat and expel and various imperialist aggressors who invaded and occupied China for roughly one hundred years, from the mid-nineteenth to the mid-twentieth century.
As Decoding the Deluge and my other books have amply explained, the East, especially China, is female dominated. The culture and the people are in every way the opposite of the male-dominated West. The principal institutions, language, customs and religion, were shaped by women and embody female values: love, marriage, family life and social harmony. Upon this base, the other social and political institutions developed accordingly.
China is probably the most conservative society on earth. Women conceive of perfection as infallibility (not making any mistakes) because they have to not err in choosing their man. Of course, there is a trade-off between infallibility and the other aspect of perfection –omnipotence (being all powerful, being able to do everything right). In order to not make any mistakes, one has to avoid trying anything new. The infallible folks don’t discover or invent anything. They couldn’t use their imaginations for anything new even if they tried. Their monstrously difficult and archaic language (Mandarin Chinese) forces them to always be listening, imitating and remembering. These are what I call Learning II skills. They are exactly the opposite of the Learning I skills we need to invent and discover, to create new knowledge. The Chinese language stunts the imagination and creativity of everyone who learns it. What imagination Chinese people do have is wasted on trying to remember the image that each Hànzì character is supposed to represent. In short, China is a nation of 1.4 billion linguists, of people who are extremely good at learning from others but who could not collectively invent the wheel if we spotted them four spokes and a rim. Leaders in China tend to be the people who present themselves as being the most traditional and who most closely imitate the people above them in the political hierarchy or the person who preceded them in office.
The Chinese people are also born liars, consummate liars, past-masters at lying. Their men lie worse than our women do. Put any Chinese person in a liar’s contest with a hundred Jesuit priests and you can lay odds on the former to win –every time! This is because all is fair in love and war and these are the only two modes in which Chinese people operate. They don’t have a fully developed work mode as we do. They don’t have a mode in which they are striving not only to produce but to cooperatively improve upon their science and technology. Science and technology came only with the Westerners, a little over a century and a half ago. Chinese people –all of their propaganda notwithstanding –don’t create any of it, so they don’t value honesty as men must in order to teach each other and learn from each other for the advancement of science and industry. Moreover, as already mentioned, every person here, men included, is robbed of his imagination and creativity by having to learn Chinese. The war mode and preparation for it will continue to be everywhere inevitable until we minimize the K and R class struggle (as I have described it in my other works) by maximizing equal opportunity and population control. The love mode is what this female-dominated society regards as all-important. So don’t ever expect to get the truth from any Chinese person, it doesn’t enter into either of his or her two modes of operating. This will not change until they are ready to (or forced to) replace the Chinese language with the simplest trade and port language (English) and replace their national socialist agenda with the communist internationalist agenda that I’ve been recommending to them.
Young Pioneers’ Camp also teaches a message that experience verifies very early for all Chinese people. By comparing themselves with each other and with weigoren [foreigners]), they learn that they are very different from the rest of us. This awareness of being different also helps to forge their unity. This is especially true when they conclude (as told in school and at Young Pioneers’ Camp) that everything Chinese is perfect and everything foreign is imperfect.
The Chinese government also deliberately augments this unity by adding racism to it. The country’s anthropologists, who are really concerned only with digging up Chinese works of art and using them to promote national pride, are doggedly retaining and teaching the Multiregional Theory of Evolution. This theory, which was rejected in the West over twenty years ago, says that men evolved separately and uniquely in different regions of the world. Chinese people evolved from “Peking Man.” Of course, this is racist nonsense; but it has the effect of raising their unity to a higher power and further alienating them from all weigoren (foreigners). With this background information, you, Dear Reader, are now ready to understand the aborted love story of Jacline and me.
When we met, I was terrified of her. She was fantastically beautiful to me! (She looks like my mother.) She is twenty-two years younger than me, but she seemed very interested in me. I couldn’t believe she could love an ugly old goat like me, and my unconscious mind was already telling me that this was the woman with whom they planned to manipulate me. Her attitude was like that of the office manager and my supervisors. They assumed that I would uncritically adopt all the ways of this new country and become a Chinese man in every way. Maybe the linguists who come to China to learn Chinese do that, but not this cat! I was a social scientist and worldly enough to know that there were no perfect people or perfect places on this planet. I would get to know China slowly. I would not just “Do as the Romans do.” As I told them, the Romans should have done something differently because, “Rome was sacked, burned and its women raped and abducted twice.” Rather than invite controversy and increase the pressure being put upon me, I very deliberately kept mum about my books.
But Jacline had to know about me and my books because her English was excellent; and it was obvious that she had been sent to meet me. She was the pursuer and I was the pursued. When she said that her boyfriend was one of the guys playing soccer on the field in front of us, I knew that she was lying. She was too interested in me for this to be true, but her interest lacked that twinkle in the eye that marks it as physical. I immediately computed what was to be my policy with her for the next eight months, “The boyfriend claim is to provide her with plausible deniability, when, after manipulating you and breaking your heart, she tells you that she never loved you or admits to being homosexual.”
That afternoon, at the first opportunity to speak with him, I told my supervisor and most trusted confidant, “She’s extremely beautiful, but I don’t need a movie star. Please help me to find a woman more my age, a divorced woman.” After months of being terribly lonely and meeting no one of interest, someone recommended that I go online at Yahoo Messenger to find a lover. Under his direction, and I realize now that this was a setup, a divorced woman in Nanjing (the province capitol, two hours away) contacted me. After a couple of online meetings, I traveled one weekend to Nanjing to meet her. A guy spotted me in the crowded bus station and guided me to Alinda. The fact that they weren’t personal friends and that he left immediately after doing his job couldn’t have made things more obvious. This rendezvous with Alinda was a government operation. She and her chaperoning friend were very friendly but reserve. After lunch in a hotel, we went to a big park with a lake, a place not far from the bus station. There she asked me, “Isn’t there some other woman that you love?” My suspicions were confirmed. I was angry. Jacline, her Party and government were manipulating me and making little effort to hide it. I insisted that I “hadn’t touched that woman and didn’t plan to.” They lightly dismissed this statement as the arrogance of a western man who would soon learn to wear the leash and nose ring of a Chinese woman. In retrospect, I can see that my one big mistake with them came at dinner time before leaving. They wanted to know what was unacceptable about Jacline other than her manipulative and controlling ways. Fool that I am, I told them the truth, “She has two “sisters” (female cousins) and only one “brother” (male cousin).
“What’s wrong with that?” they asked.
“People with same sex siblings tend to like oral sex. People with opposite sex siblings tend to like intercourse. I’m of the latter group.” This was a simplistic and crude sounding version of what I really meant: people with same sex siblings and heterosexual role models tend to be latently homosexual and to have personal hang-ups that are unacceptable to me. In any case, they got the message and like the unconscionable savages that they are, they used my honesty and helpfulness against me. They conveyed that message to their superiors who cautioned Jacline that she would have to be very discreet and circumspect in dealing with me. The plan was to get me married to her late in life without knowing the real orientation of the bride (Jacline). That’s why, as you’ll see, they arranged a make-believe wedding between Jacline and “Mr. G.” and why, after the wedding plan fizzled, she disappeared from my life as suddenly as she later did. It is also why they sent Ping to me. You’ll meet Ping below.
For the next eight months I dodged Jacline. She invited me to several places and functions. She was (is) an important person in local government and told me point blank, “I have an important government job.” The title on her card said, “Nantong Economic and Technological Development Area, Project Manager.” I had enough experience to know that this “government job” meant police agent, spy. I also knew that something like ninety percent of the people whose lives are wrapped up in business and government jobs that enable them to humiliate or coerce others are latent (hidden) homosexuals. The fact that Jacline appeared also to still be virginal at 33 years of age increased the likelihood that she had no real interest in men. I refused all but one of her informal invitations and refused to sit with her on a romantic boat ride that followed a government dinner. What was I to do? She was still telling me that her boyfriend was a certain “Mr. G., a judge.” I’m Mr. H and only a lawyer. Even if this wasn’t true, as a westerner and a social scientist, I’ve learned to despise people who lie to me. I’ve learned also to avoid latent homosexuals, especially latent women, who are as useful to a heterosexual man as teats on a bull.
However, I soon discovered that no other women were available to me. Several women pretended to be interested in me, but when I returned their interest and at the point of these relationships becoming physical, these other women all responded, “Isn’t there someone else that you really love?” My social isolation was quite obviously intentional, well organized and systemic.
Then, four months into Jacline’s and my relationship, she phoned me. I recognized her beautiful voice as soon as she said “Hello” and greeted her by name. She told me that she and Mr. G. were getting married and that I was invited to the wedding. I read this to mean that they were playing hardball with me. I knew that the alleged groom, “Mr. G.” was fictitious and would leave Jacline waiting at the altar, but what was the purpose of this game? I didn’t figure it out until penning version two of this little book. One thing I did know even then: I was not a pawn that these schemers were going to manipulate.
Like a good boxer, light on his feet, I skillfully parried the expected blow.
“I’d love to come, Jacline, but I’ll have to bring my girlfriend.” (A thirteen year old student had a crush on me at the time.)
“Oh, no. You have to come by yourself.”
“I can’t do that, Jacline. She would be extremely jealous and upset with me.” This was my alleged excuse for not attending “her wedding.”
Jacline and many other people were furious with me. Apparently, no small amount of money and preparation had already been spent on this farce.
However, in addition to the misgivings already mentioned, it was easy for me to see that this beautiful, thirty-three year old woman was still childless and virginal. I had already been married twice and had deflowered the second wife. I am not a Faustian monster who would want to deflower a second woman and deny another man the opportunity to feel as if he belonged to someone and that someone wanted to belong to him. Worse still, I had also already fathered two children, one that the second wife and I jointly planned and another that she tricked me into conceiving. Having even two children is disgraceful for the author of a comprehensive, new social science that promotes equal opportunity and population control as the answer to all our problems. Fathering more than two children would be unthinkable for someone in my position. The Chinese government in Beijing knew all this about me before they brought me to China. As we’ll see, Jacline knew too and never intended for me to be more than a second and temporary husband to her, a husband whom she’d marry late in his life, who would soon die, leaving his books to her.
I made a point of telling Chinese colleagues that I had been married twice, had two children and deflowered the second wife. For the next four months, I didn’t hear from Jacline; and I became –as I have remained for almost every day of the last nine years --the loneliest man in China.
Then two secret police agents came to my school to meet me. Before getting down to business, they took me to dinner and got me extremely drunk on a local sherry that knocks you out before you know it.
“Look,” they said, “there are very few divorced women here in Nantong and no single women old enough to be interested in you, except Jacline. Either try to patch things up with her or move to Shanghai.”
So I agreed to call her and did. Right away, she started giving me my marching orders, telling me which streets I was not to walk down in Nantong. She also told me to meet her the next Saturday night at a coffee shop.
She was there when I arrived. I tried to kiss her on the cheek as I stepped up to her. “Don’t touch me,” she snapped and shoved me away.
She was furious. We sat there in silence for at least ten or fifteen minutes before I summoned up the courage to say something. “Well, you’re as beautiful as ever; but you don’t look very happy.”
I honestly don’t remember if I completed that statement with its logical conclusion; but we both understood it to be, “What? Is married life not treating you well?”
That made her even more furious. If looks could kill, I’d have been dead. Struggling to find the right words to say, I then said, “I think the party and the government wanted us to marry.”
“Well it’s too late now,” she scowled.
“Well, it’s just as well,” I said with resignation.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“Well, I’m not exactly in my prime.” (I was fifty-five years old at that time, and I’m twenty-two years her senior.)
“You don’t look bad,” she replied.
“Oh, Jacline, they must be crazy to think that a beautiful young woman like you could love an ugly old goat like me!”
Tears started streaming down both sides of her face.
This was both the happiest and one of the scariest moments of my life. I concluded, prematurely, that this beautiful young woman really loved me, and I loved her. But she was absolutely furious with me; and as the old saying goes, “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.”
“This is the worst mistake I’ve ever made,” I said.
She said nothing –just sat there drying her tears. Now we were both extremely relaxed and happy in each other’s company. It must have been another ten or fifteen minutes before I thought of an appropriate thing to say, “Do you want me to dye my hair (from gray to black)?”
“Why?” she asked.
“You know…so I don’t look like your father.”
She shook her head no in answer to this last question, which was to become the joke of the town. As we left the coffee shop, I asked her if she was going to teach me Chinese. (Non-linguists can only learn this language from a mother.) She said she hadn’t decided. I made her promise to meet me again within two days.
She didn’t meet me as promised and refused to answer my calls. I was perplexed.
The very next afternoon, I was reading a book in the luncheonette of the local supermarket when an elderly man and woman walked by me. They each waved and smiled, enthusiastically. I knew that they had to be Jacline’s parents, but they apparently didn’t speak English and rushed off.
Then, on the second morning after our meeting, I went to the noodle shop as usual to have my breakfast before the start of classes. It was 7:30 AM. The shop was packed with people, and everyone was laughing. I hadn’t a clue as to why.
I looked up at the man sitting across from me at my table. He stared back at me and smiled. Suddenly I realized that I was staring into my own face, aged by about thirty years. “Mr. Shen (Jacline’s family name)?” I asked. He nodded yes, knowingly. We shook hands and left the noodle shop like the father and son in law that I hoped we’d become and then went our separate ways.
But since then, I have only seen him twice by coincidence. I haven’t been allowed to see or talk to Jacline at all. For eight years, we have not seen or talked openly and directly to each other. The latent homosexual, government agent, who claims to know all about her and attempts to control me, lies to me constantly and tells me conflicting things. I think Jacline has spoken to me occasionally on the internet –always while pretending to be someone she’s not. (I’ll further describe this routine, below.)
I was induced to go to Beijing and speak with an editor at the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences. They wanted to buy all the rights to my major book, in perpetuity. I refused to permit this because it appeared to me that they wanted to permanently expunge everything in the book that conflicted with their Marxist and nationalist illusions. Actually, the role of Marxism and Maoism in China has dwindled to mere salutes at party functions, charades for the masses. The Chinese Ks revere Marx and Mao only because their revolutionary fervor enabled Chinese Ks to displace the foreign imperialists. The Chinese cronies who were first in line to buy up state property when, during the Deng Xiaoping era, so many state enterprises were converted to private ones, have become as rich and powerful as the capitalists anywhere. Their excuse for not turning state owned enterprises into corporations, liberally assessing their value and making an IPO of the stock was that they were unfamiliar with these procedures. Of course, both here and in Russia, they could have called in western investment bankers; but that would have attracted more public attention and would have required them to allow weigoren (foreigners) to participate in the plunder. As you’ll see, one of the richest of these families in Nantong has been behind Jacline all along.
Karl Marx was a great man. He took on the role of advocate for the poor. (For the Rs, see Endnote 1.) The Ks had previously developed their political ideology, and it became a very vicious ideology once it was tweaked by the social Darwinists. The Rs desperately needed an advocate. They’ve never been able to pay well, so it was heroic of Marx to take their case. But a lawyer’s job is not to uncover the abstract truth. A lawyer’s job is to win a fight. A good lawyer makes the court believe that his words are coming from the mouth of God, but it just ain’t so. Marx was twenty to thirty percent objective social scientist and seventy to eighty percent advocate/lawyer. His ideology has proven to be what was needed to break the K monopoly on state power, to make the socialist revolution. But his ideology, especially its center piece, his theory of the class struggle, which says that the capitalists (the socially-created, means of production-owning Ks) are the source of all the world’s problems, is one-sided and simply incorrect. I am the objective, social scientist that Marx pretended to be. Please read my other books.
Even as the Ks here continue to fight with their western competitors, they cooperate with each other in censoring the media so as to control and exploit the rest of us. They especially tend to cooperate in oppressing advanced thinkers like myself whose ideas they don’t understand and appreciate. By the way, it is not only their latent homosexuality that prevents them from appreciating the prospect of a Stage II world. Marrying as they do, for money instead of love, even when they don’t have same sex siblings, the fathers fail to become effective role models for their sons and object models for their daughters. Such children become overtly and irreversibly homosexual.
Despite the widespread and common shortcomings of the Ks, the most far-sighted, wealthy and educated individuals must be the leaders of every society. That is necessary and inevitable. What’s not just or necessary is that these leaders be hereditary. They cannot be hereditary if we are to have a population controlled and civilized world. Minimizing the K and R reproductive strategies, maximizing equal opportunity and population control will eliminate K and R injustice. Stage II will prevent the development of persons that are the heartless, latent homosexual monsters that we have now. Return now to my story.
For over eight years, I resisted all attempts of the Chinese Government to manipulate me with women. I say women, plural, because many women have been involved; but the only Chinese woman other than Jacline who was ever serious about me was Ping. Before I tell you about Ping, realize that Chinese law prevents security personnel (spies like Jacline) from marrying foreigners until they retire, and Jacline was only thirty-three years old when she disappeared from my life. She had twenty-two years more before she could retire. Therefore I told everyone that I would NOT wait twenty-two years for Jacline. I started once more to actively look online for a wife. It was during my third year here that I found Ping. Ha! What western male arrogance! She found me. As I was browsing a Chinese dating sight (more about them below), she popped up on the screen. As you should already suspect, this was no accident.
Whenever I gazed at the photo Ping sent me, I thought that she was Jacline, that they were playing a game with me. I know now that the photo was a morph of Jacline’s and Ping’s faces. They were playing a game alright, but it was not the one that I suspected. After meeting this divorced woman twice online with webcams, I went to Pudong Airport in Shanghai to pick her up and take her back to Nantong. She had flown in from Nanning, in the south of China, where she had an eighth grade son. I was surprised to discover that Ping wasn’t Jacline. She spoke almost no English, but I found her very attractive, and the language of love speaks only through the eyes and is universal. She was lean and had my mother’s small eyes, a must for me. Enroute from the airport to the Shanghai North Railway Station, she fed me sunflower seeds and smiled knowingly as she popped them into my mouth. Ah! At last! A heterosexual woman, a keeper, I thought. We kissed passionately in the pedestrian tunnel between the railway station and the Long Distance Bus Station. On the two-hour bus ride to Nantong, it was agony keeping my hands off her hot body. I took Ping to the foreign teachers’ dorm at Nantong Technical College where I was living and teaching at the time. I stopped her from rushing into the apartment in order to carry her, like a bride, over the threshold. Neither of us could wait to tear our clothes off. We made love passionately, relieving what was obviously a long drought for both of us. She stayed for a week. Ping’s voice was not beautiful like Jacline’s, but she loved the sack and was a good cook. I paid for the groceries, and she bought and cooked them. It was a mostly meat diet. Ping knew what she wanted; and she got it, three to five hours per day. We couldn’t get enough of each other. When she left me to return to Nanning and her son, I was crushed. I felt like a fish washed up on the shore and abandoned. In all, she made about three week-long visits to me. I adored her and wanted to marry her but for one problem. I sensed that the government was controlling her. Recall what I said above: the Chinese people are all brainwashed at an early age and united like a single person with one will. Ping and I weren’t mutual lords and bondsmen, masters and slaves, to one another. The Chinese government was coming between us. This suspicion was confirmed on her third visit. We were forced periodically, whenever the bilingual dictionary failed as a communication tool, to call upon a party hack as a translator. On Ping’s third visit, two familiar party hacks showed up simultaneously at our door. It was revealed to me that Ping had had words with one of them that she had withheld from me. They suggested to her that I loved Jacline more than her and would never marry her. Ping turned to look me in the eye and silently ask, “Is this true?”
I wasn’t sure what to say. I waited and searched my soul before responding. “Jacline speaks English,” I said. “She can communicate more deeply with me. Yes, I do love her more, Ping; but she has abandoned me. While I don’t trust you enough to legally marry you, I’ll never abandon you – not for Jacline or anyone else. If you’ll stay with me, I’ll be a good and loyal spouse to you and a father to your son. I’ll also provide for you in my will.” (She’s the same age as Jacline, about twenty-two years younger than me.)
I realize now why Ping wouldn’t accept this answer. She couldn’t accept it because the Chinese government wouldn’t accept it. Ping left me for another American man in Nanning who was more devoted to her than I was. The Chinese government had sent her and had taken her away. Only now do I fully see their reasoning: “if he legally marries her, fine. We get control of his books when he dies. If not, we at least confuse Jacline with Ping in his mind and trick him into believing that Jacline is heterosexual, like Ping.”
This, Jacline’s earlier crying act and her father looking just like me worked. They had me believing that Jacline really loved me. To amplify the impact, Peter, one of the two party apparatchiks, told me later that Jacline had been threatening to commit suicide while Ping was with me.
For all of my time in China, they have made my life hell by not allowing me to see or talk to Jacline – the woman whom I believed was my Miss Right. I had to maintain control of my books at least long enough to perfect them and to develop a comprehensive, new social science. Only recently, when the books reached that stage of development and were positioned on the web did I agree to side with the Chinese, to join their party and submit to its discipline provided that they would allow me to influence others, to air my point of view in debate. But by this time, they had come to regard me as an untrustworthy. Moreover, as mentioned above, the arch-conservatism of Chinese women causes them to thwart socialist democratic principles in favor of cronyism because cronyism assures them that nothing will change. The new leaders that are promoted are the ones who best imitate and flatter the previous ones. Chinese leaders (an oxymoron) are, for the most part, appointed and not elected.
Until she hit age forty, Jacline’s job had been to get the rich and highly skilled western men that China needs to come here. She and her colleagues operate dating websites that display the photos of every single and divorced Chinese woman of marriageable age. When a foreigner logs onto one of these sites, Jacline or one of her colleagues talks to him in English, pretending to be the woman whose photo he is enamored with. First they assess him. If the man is rich or skilled enough to be of interest to the Chinese, they try to prepare him for life here. When he is willing and adaptable, they arrange for him to come and meet his Ms. Right. The man is almost always surprised to learn that this woman is not the woman he conversed with and, like Ping, does not speak English. However, the Chinese are the world’s best linguists; so if they are physically suited for each other, she can and usual will learn English quickly.
Face matching software is also, no doubt, used to find the Chinese women who can be used to manipulate and corrupt western investors, technicians and especially politicians. This tactic is supremely successful because there is virtually no love in the male-dominated West. Wherever people are grossly unequal in opportunity and insecure, women wait passively (like the heroines of Jane Austin novels) for offers of marriage and choose that of the richest suitor. And of course, the proposals are almost always from the wrong man. As my friend, Kurt Vonnegut, once said, “We (Americans) are all married to the wrong person.” But we must get back to the main topic: Jacline and I.
As Jacline was hitting forty, I was getting awfully tired of waiting for her. I wanted to find someone else. Even if I couldn’t find someone else, there was no reason for me to stay in Nantong. The weather is horrible. Kunming, the spring city, sounded like a much better place to be. I honestly don’t remember whether going there was my idea or if someone planted it in my mind. In retrospect, I know it was the latter. The schemers had a reason for wanting me to be out of Nantong for one year. So I went there over New Year’s break, lined up a job for the coming academic year and returned in the September. The weather and the spas in Kunming are fabulous. I also enjoyed traveling around Yunnan, a fabulous province for tourism. But toward the end of the school year, a row started over something I said in a class. It was blown completely out of proportion; so much so that I thought that the whole school administration had to be crazy. Only many months later did I realize that this row was a pretext for manipulating me back to Nantong. But when I returned to Nantong, I still wasn’t allowed to see Jacline.
After selling one of my Nantong apartments and using the proceeds to buy an apartment at a resort community at Lake Fuxian, Yunnan, I was one or two hundred thousand rmb short for buying a second one at Lake Fuxian. While looking for a mortgage loan, I learned from a Chinese English teacher that Jacline had married someone else and had his baby. I had heard some rumors to that effect; but because Chinese people lie and manipulate so continually, I couldn’t be sure if they were true. I couldn’t believe the rumors until I noticed that Helen Zhou was pregnant. Helen is a domestic police agent like Jacline, but one whose job is to manage the moonlighting activities of foreign English teachers. Helen is very close to her married sister and once admitted to me that she’s never had any desire for a man. Despite all Helen’s consistent claims to not know Jacline, I have always assumed that these two, educated and smart women, both of them party members of the same age and having lived less than one mile apart, were close friends. When I saw that Helen was pregnant I realized that the rumors about Jacline were true, and I was furious for having been manipulated and fooled by these schemers. Helen told me that her (Helen’s) husband was living and working in Canada. He’s from her home town. The marriage, she said, had been arranged by the families. She added that she had no love for this man but wanted (as did her family) a baby. I immediately resolved to leave China and started making my preparations. The male security agent, Peter, an apparatchik and the usual go-between between me and the government, bent over backwards to assure me that Jacline loved me and could not bear to have me leave. How could all this be possible? How could she love me and do as Helen had done -- give her virginity to and have a baby by another man? Well, that’s how I figured it out – latent homosexual, domestic spies, like Jacline and Helen, who are still virgins at forty or forty-one years of age, become compensation virgins for young male spies going to study and work in the West, especially the US where the male spies are unlikely to find a virginal woman.
The most successful, Chinese, male spies, who have no Chinese contacts and become or are to become trusted by marrying western (non-virginal and especially USA) women get to have one of these compensation virgins. They are the Chinese counterpart of the infamous, Japanese comfort women of WWII. Again, at forty or forty-one years of age, female spies who are still virgins, as Jacline and Helen were until recently, give their virginity to and also have babies by these young men. The young man is usually from the woman’s home town. That way both sets of grandparents can stay close to and help raise the child. The children thus born are raised and influenced heavily by their mothers and the Chinese Government for their first seven years of life. This insures that they will be stamped out with the same cookie cutter as other Learning I disabled, Learning II enabled, national socialist (nazi), Marxist and brainwashed Chinese people. These children, who come from the families of spies on both sides, are especially likely to become excellent spies themselves.
But there aren’t enough virginal, domestic spies like Jacline and Helen to serve as compensation virgins for all the young male spies going to the west. According to numerous Internet sources, the number of Chinese students studying in US universities and colleges jumped 21.4 percent in the 2012-13 academic year to over 235,000. More than half of these students are young men, so how do the Chinese provide virgins for all of them? Simple: the students going abroad marry each other in secret. They go to the same local but separately and pretending to be single. That is exactly what Li Zhou did back in Tulsa, Oklahoma. I spotted a Chinese man one day who had to have been spying on us. Although they pretended not to know one another, this man was Li’s jealous husband.
Many of the best and most successful spies also pretend that they have suffered a falling out at home. This is always just a story. They are totally unified and uniformly patriotic. The “Chinese Dream” is a national socialist one and is the same for everyone: bring glory to the Chinese nation and state. The Chinese language, their history of suffering at the hands of violent, western barbarians and the brainwashing that they all undergo –especially during the earliest years – guarantees this unity.
To make a long story short, the Peoples Republic of China is presently not a communist country but a national socialist country. The Chinese are the world’s most successful gangster group because they are the largest and most unified gangster group in a world of competing gangsters. All other nations are on a path to extinction. You will all be defeated, bought out, impoverished and left to perish by the Chinese –unless you do a better job of minimizing the K and R class struggle than they have and make love much more possible within your societies.
Of course, it will help you in the short run to deport all of the people who are or ever were Chinese citizens and to boycott all trade with and travel between China. Scrutinize the translated NSA transcripts of all dialogs in Chinese. Wherever a conversation appears to involve code, assume that the participants are spies. But in order to undertake these drastic measures, you will have to admit to the world what Faustian monsters your K class men are and how loveless your societies are. Making this admission, even to yourselves, is virtually synonymous with undergoing the revolutionary changes necessary to correct the situation. You may as well do the right thing and the sooner the better.
Again, you won’t be successful in doing these things or in competing with the Chinese –in the long run –unless you create a society that is better and more unified than theirs. You must be better not only in the ways that you are already better (in science and technology) but also in creating equal opportunity and population control. Doing this is equivalent to basing your society on rational law instead of violence, lies and thievery and empowering women to be the masters of marriage and family life. Of course, to make any fundamental changes anywhere, we will have to start to change latent homosexual people. As George Orwell perceived, these people who are unable to love are ever more thoroughly monopolizing wealth and power. In order for them to not fight change and have some incentive for improving our world, we must make them feel that they have permission to love the people they want to love. Unable to change themselves and afraid of change in general, they presently only pretend to support social progress by addressing only the symptoms of our problems and not the problems per se.
One or two weeks after seeing through the compensation virgins program, my unconscious mind computed who Jacline’s husband and mate was. Vincent (Wentao) Chu, one of my students from Nantong Middle School had met with me, allegedly for English tutoring, and had asked me personal questions about my love life and plans. I recalled that he had been extremely uneasy. I also concluded from things I’d heard about “some rich student of mine” that Vincent was this student and Jacline’s husband. He also looks a bit like me and her father. However, at this point, I did not know exactly how rich Vincent’s family is. “Ok,” I told them, “Since I couldn’t or wouldn’t have my vasectomy undone and agree to have a child by her, it was her right to have one by someone else. I accept that.”
“However,” I insisted, “I want to raise that child as its father. The biological father is in the west, and the child will inevitably become an inveterate (“butch”) homosexual if it doesn’t have a father whom the mother loves. I will never accept a child of that nature because it would tell the world that I was ineffective as a father.”
Their response was to say nothing. I demanded to either meet Jacline and the child within one week or never. Fortunately, the school year was about to end; and when they refused to meet my demands, I took a very costly, standby flight back to the US. I had to fear that they would stop me. I knew too much. I had another, tragic reason for having to go back to NYC at this time. My first ex-wife and dear friend of thirty-seven years had died. I had to attend Beatrice’s funeral. To ease their anxiety, before leaving I gave them an improved algorithm for Finding Mr/Ms Right software. All of you may see it too. It’s in this last endnote.
Going back also meant that I got to see my children, children who have been raised by the US government and entirely brainwashed by the Ks of the USA. This was a bittersweet experience, but I did manage to write two very good screenplays (Corey and Genesis I) in the month of July while in Manhattan.
On the way back to Manhattan, I stopped at Langley, Virginia to meet with the CIA. Now remember: I was able to figure everything out about Chinese spying operations due to Jacline’s feigned love for me and/or her government’s determination to use her to gain control of my books and their reluctance to let me go. I have never worked for them (other than as an English teacher or when pressured to edit journal articles as described below). Neither did I ever join their party. I had no moral obligation not to divulge what I had learned about them other than the obligation to not help the western, male-dominated Ks to whatever extent they should be deemed more culpable then their adversaries. I had already written and published a book that gave strategic advice to the west. I told them in Just Say No to Latent Homosexual Crusades everything they needed to know except the dirty, Chinese details. I would gladly have worked for the CIA if they had been willing to meet two conditions: first, show a willingness to improve their society as described above and in my other books. I repeated to the CIA, point blank at their visitors’ center, why the west cannot compete with China and why western people are on the path to extinction. The CIA’s answer was, “We don’t have any problems. You’re crazy.” We never really reached the second condition, which was that they pay me exorbitantly for the persecution and civil rights abuses that I suffered continuously over a thirty year period in my native land.
I am actually neutral in what most people believe is a struggle between owners and non-owners of means of production. As explained in Endnote 1, that is not what the class struggle is really about. It’s about K and R, and it is a struggle that cannot be won.
So, at this point, I knew that I would not be able to work with the CIA and that the west was doomed to follow its suicide course. I still loved Jacline and believed that she loved me. But I could divine only one reason for them withholding her child from me: the Chinese government wants to brainwash the child and turn it into a nazi so that, assuming the child inherits my books, the government will be able to gain editorial control of them. I estimated that if this were the only reason for them to be withholding the child, then my persuasive ability and Jacline’s love for me ought to be able to overcome it. So I returned to China and Nantong.
I wasn’t back for long when they dropped another bomb on me. Helen Zhou told me, “You know, in China, it is customary for the woman to always be regarded as a member of her ex-husband’s family, even in the event of a divorce.” I promptly told her that this despicable custom was indicative of how oppressed, demoralized and feckless Chinese men are. That custom, when practiced, is an insult to both the former husband and the new one. As soon as Helen demonstrated her resolve to carry out that custom by having dinner with her Canadian husband’s relatives and at a time when she was renouncing her desire to ever see him again, I told her and her family that I was so mortified by their behavior that I would have no more to do with them as a family. I even walked out on this dinner that I had been invited to. Next, I made it clear in letters to Jacline’s friends that either not letting me raise the child –and soon – or her having anything to do with Vincent’s family were each deal-killers for us. Little did I know at this time that these two unacceptable insults were connected!
On the eighth and ninth of November, a little more than three months after returning from New York, I reiterated my demand that either I raise Jacline’s child or they allow me to sell my two houses, leave Nantong and marry someone else. They are not allowing me to sell my Nantong house. They waited till the last moment to renew my ninety day visa. At that time, I had the required medical checkup; and the new employer, an English training center, submitted the visa documents. The head doctor at the clinic is a friend of mine. They rushed me through checkup procedures. They had me return four hours later (after the urine and blood samples were analyzed) to pick up the summary of the results. I was told that I was fine. That night, I twice reiterated my demands that either they let me father that child or let me go. The next night, another party apparatchik sent me a message saying that he wanted to talk to me about that situation. The next morning, I sent one of Jacline’s friends a short text message saying that the issue was not negotiable, that I would not live under the same roof with the nazi child that the government was determined to create. (I suspected that they feared that without the child as a brainwashed “minder,” Jacline and I might someday go to the West and pose a security risk.) More specifically, I said to two of Jacline’s friends, “I can see only two possible reasons for not being allowed to raise that child. Either Jacline doesn’t really love me, or the government is determined to make a nazi out of the child.” Several hours later, I received a phone call from my employer telling me to report to the communicable disease center because I “have a communicable disease that may require me to be isolated.” Had there been anything wrong with me, they would have told me two days earlier. I knew I was fine. I jog five km every day, eat well and sleep well. This could only mean that they now wanted to either kill me or lock me permanently away. That threat upon my life or liberty is what forced me to divulge this information. I had to expose the dirtiest details of Chinese spying in order to save my own life or liberty. I have been forced by them to help the West, just as the US government once drove me into their arms (by destroying my family, censoring my books and websites and stealing my right to practice law).
I quickly drove to the homes and workplaces of the westerners I knew, going first to the one that I knew to be an American spy. In all, I talked to seven westerners before going online and emailing an earlier version of this little book to former friends in the CIA and the publisher of the New York Times.
Now the tables were turned. It was their turn to wonder, sweat and worry. My employer had the audacity to make one more veiled threat about, “What the Chinese government might do to me.” I smiled calmly and told her, “My people are very violent, and there will be many of them who will want to round up and kill all of your spies, even the best insinuated ones. You had better damn well hope that nothing unfortunate happens to me because that will just give them an excuse to act upon their instincts.”
Since telling them this, I have been treated once more to the red carpet, just like foreign communist party members are all treated when they visit China and stroll through Potemkin Villages where all the nazis have donned their communist masks. Poor Peter, the security guy who usually serves as the go between, between the government and me, appears to be on the verge of a nervous breakdown. He’s got dark circles under his eyes and a hacking cold. When I bought us dinner the other night, he gulped down his beer as I’d never seen him do before. As you might expect, me letting the cat out of the bag has also put a crimp in Helen’s plans. Now she reports that she is eager to go to Canada to be with the husband that she “loves and misses so much.”
As I’ve continued to insist upon them letting me sell the house and leave, they sent Peter to me on an unprecedentedly open and straightforward mission. As usual, he asked me to meet with him at the Wen Feng Hotel. This is a four star, garden hotel near the center of the city. Peter and I have played ping pong or lifted weights there countless times. He told me that his friend is the manager. When I arrived, he led me to our usual alcove near the front window. He was struggling for words. I know now that he wears a wire when he’s with me there and that the place is full of listening devices. The person or persons listening and communicating with him this time on the wire were apparently old and not able to hear well. He hustled us to a table at the back of the room and next to the rear window. The next meaningful thing to come out of Peter’s mouth was, “This used to be a state-owned hotel before it was sold and made private.”
“Oh,” I said, “Who owns it now?”
“Mr. Chu.”
So, Vincent’s family is not just well to do. It seems that they own half the town and are one of if not the richest of families. I have learned that in his early days, Chu senior owned a restaurant across the street from a government center. This enabled him to become a crony of other latent homosexuals, politicians, who would be holding the public purse strings at privatization time. Chu and other politicians and their cronies were able to plunder the public as my father and the thieves of normal times are only able to dream of.
Of course, all those state owned companies should have been IPO’d. But that wouldn’t have stopped Chu and latent homosexuals like him from rising to the top in business and politics. Wherever we have a savage K and R society and same sex siblings being born to heterosexual role models, those children will grow up with homosexual desires that they feel compelled to hide and frustrate. Unable to love and accept themselves as they are, these latent homosexual individuals will always be unhappy, always be fighting, always be trying to humiliate or take advantage of others through deception, intrigue and treachery (lying, cheating and stealing). Latent homosexuals, as long as they exist, will always be creating problems for everyone else, especially in politics and business, the spheres to which they are drawn like metal filings to a magnet. We must prevent people from growing up with this problem. If you can’t see this, read George Orwell’s 1984 again!
You might reply, “Then where, Dave, would we get people to fill the most difficult jobs such as policeman, fire fighter, soldier and construction worker?”
The answer requires some imagination on your part. Stop for a moment to ponder it. Here it is: in a civilized world, wherein K and R were minimized (equal opportunity and population control maximized), we wouldn’t have one tenth of the problems we have, problems that create such a huge demand for these sorts of public servants and workers. Neither would their working conditions and the dangers facing them be anywhere near as severe as they are.
Of course, we should minimize all of the conflicts posed by sexual orientation differences by organizing ourselves to become of one and only one sexual orientation. Obviously it can’t be homosexual, or our species would die out. We have to adopt my Stage II system of marriage and child rearing not only to make everyone heterosexual and eliminate sexual-orientation related problems but also to empower women within the family. The Stage II empowerment of women within the family is especially necessary so as to offset the tremendous impetus to learning and the empowerment to men that is provided by the simplest and universally needed trade and port language, English. But now we have strayed too far from Nantong and the spy I loved.
Obviously, Jacline is a gold digger. Although I haven’t been allowed to see or speak to her in eight years, her portrait is now complete. It was planned for her to marry Vincent when he graduated from high school and before going abroad. Me being a foreigner meant that Jacline, a security person, is forbidden by law from marrying me until she retires. This also gave them an excuse for not letting me even see or talk to Vincent’s wife until I’m seventy years old or more. Only then would she legally marry me, in time to inherit my books before I die. Being jilted at the altar by “Mr. G.” was designed to provide Jacline with an excuse for not being a virgin when, many years later, I was to legally marry this woman who would appear to be, like myself, long celibate and suffering. No doubt they originally thought that I would never know about Vincent. The fact that they expected to keep Jacline’s real husband and inlaws a secret from me for fifteen years, shows how united these nazis are. But when I saw that “Mr. G.” was fictitious, they had to be more forthcoming.
Well, recall that right from Day One, I knew that Jacline working as she did meant that there was a ninety percent chance of her being latently homosexual. Her crying scene at the coffee shop (when I suggested that she couldn’t possibly love me), her father looking exactly like me only twenty-nine years older and her association with Ping confused me. For all these reasons, I gave her the benefit of the doubt. I assumed that she was one of the exceptional ten percent. But ninety or more percent of the gold-diggers are also latent homosexuals. Ninety percent of ten percent means that she has only a one percent likelihood of being straight (of not being latently homosexual). But the Chu family, while adoring and wanting to monopolize her child and wanting to retain her as a business partner and family member, is eager to pawn her off on another husband. That can only mean that Vincent doesn’t want her because she’s no good for intercourse. There goes her last one percent chance of being heterosexual.
As I stated in Just Say No to Latent Homosexual Crusades, latent homosexuals are compulsive liars and trouble-makers. Not being able to accept themselves causes them to constantly lie and make trouble for others. They tend to be the most successful politicians and business people. Jacline may truly believe that she loves me. I am a younger, dead ringer for her elderly father. But obviously she didn’t love him enough and cannot love any man. She loves one of her two, female cousins whom I’ve never been allowed to see and whom she regards as her sister. As most latent homosexuals, she has no conception of romantic love as mutual lordship and bondage, as two people struggling to become one. For latent homosexuals, a marriage partner is just a breeding partner, a trophy and a co-star in a public play. Latent homosexuals (especially police agents) often destroy other people’s marriages and love lives without even realizing that they’re doing it. They have no understanding of what love is! They often crash into other peoples’ relationships by fantasizing about having a threesome. Threesomes are ideal for latent homosexual women or latent homosexual men if they can find an opposite sex heterosexual dumb enough to front for them. One of Jacline’s female friends once suggested that the three of us do this. (Notice, again, that I don’t reveal this friend’s identity. I don’t reveal embarrassing information that was offered to me in good faith.) Most Chinese women dominate their man, but not as Jacline tried to dominate me, not to the point of having no respect for the man’s interests and feelings. She and the Chu family deserve each other. I am somewhat familiar with the wheels of fortune and the sleazy folks who oil them. I had a latent homosexual father and drove a New York City taxi for twenty-seven years. (The police would not permit me to do much else.) Many of the richest people in the world, people who live on the northeast side of Manhattan, were my bread and butter customers. They are overwhelmingly latent homosexuals who are unable to love and marry for money. Bored with their meaningless lives, they’re like the fashionable society folks at the races in George Bernard Shaw’s Pygmalion (My Fair Lady, in the movie version).
The Chu family did me a favor by unmasking Jacline before I made another mistake, before I entered into another bad marriage. I was a fool. It took me almost ten years to learn the truth. But in the process, I have learned all about China and written some more dynamite books and screenplays. It was a most difficult, lonely and heart-breaking ten years; but the truth has set me free.
To, hopefully, set you free, there are two more things that I must share with you about China. First, and as you should expect, all vital statistics are kept by the Chinese government record office in each local. This office also monopolizes the notary service. They falsify or delete records as required by Chinese intelligence operations. The same is true of the Chinese patent office. “Chinese patent” is a second oxymoron. I have been pressured, as I’m sure other competent English teachers are pressured, to edit scientific journal articles written in English and attributed to “Chinese scientists” (a third oxymoron). Chinese PhD candidates are not required to do any original research, only to know the literature in their field. Chinese “researchers” (a fourth oxymoron) are people who comb the Internet and foreign journals for information.
Secondly, with over 235,597 dedicated and loyal spies in the USA alone, which includes all of their students studying in the USA in 2013, the Chinese are now able to use only chump change from their vast foreign trade reserves to finance and control important elections in the USA. That can be and probably is done through well-organized, laundered, Internet contributions.
The bottom line for all intelligent people of good will, the political truth that will set you politically free is as follows. The people of the United States have been opportunistic and easily and stupidly brainwashed into supporting the male-dominated Ks of their country, into using violence to steal the resources and violate the sovereignty of people everywhere. But their nationalism is only skin deep. When I explain to my countrymen that what communism really means is “uniting humanity into one virtual and loving family,” they are almost unanimous in replying, “Oh, I’m for that!” When I say the same thing to Chinese people, most are afraid or ashamed to respond to me openly. Even those who don’t vocalize their response show it on their faces, and it is almost always the same: “Gee, I’m not sure about those foreigners.” The female-dominated, Chinese Rs are nonviolent but compulsive liars, tricksters and nazis. Ideally, we should learn from each other and thus correct our respective problems. But as I stated in Just Say No to Latent Homosexual Crusades, the worlds of big business, politics and espionage are everywhere dominated by latent homosexuals.
Latent homosexuals are similar to religious fundamentalists, people who believe literally in religious myths and rituals, in one important way. The minds of the fundamentalists are trapped within a little box and they can’t think out of the box. The hearts of latent homosexuals are in an emotional little box in which there is no love. They relish and need conflict and dirty games of every sort. They would rather fight than cooperate because they cannot change themselves, are afraid of change in general and need an external conflict to mask their inner conflict. Latent homosexuals also cannot change because they can’t be honest about themselves, which is prerequisite for the most important changes in our lives. Again, we must change them by making them feel they have permission to love the people they want to love. Without love, they are motivated only by fear, and fear fashions nothing of lasting value.
We may also still have to use Public Enemy #2 to defeat Public Enemy #1. We may also still have to use China to defeat American imperialism and put an end to the wholesale and global theft of resources. As soon as that is accomplished, as soon as we transform or replace the present US government and convert melting pot, male and K dominated America into the country that can and must lead us in uniting the world into one virtual and loving (i.e. communist) country and family, we must deal swiftly and decisively with Public Enemy #2. We must put an end to the Chinese language, Chinese National Socialism and the wholesale and global theft of technology. This will probably require us to totally isolate these people until they agree (at the very least) to abolish their languages in favor of English.
The turning point in civilizing the world will be codifying and enacting the laws needed to minimize K and R (to maximize equal opportunity and population control). To accomplish this, we must educate people with the information that is in my books. The American government has made a show of allowing their hardcopy publication at Amazon.com and their digital publication at Smashwords.com. But up to now, it is just a show, a child-like pretention. That’s why you have my permission to copy and distribute this publication royalty free. Give it out to the most intelligent and well-intentioned people you know.
In the hope that it might make my life a bit more tolerable and get the police agents and other latent homosexuals off my back, I now declare this book and the other social science books listed on page one TO BE IN THE PUBLIC DOMAIN. Anyone may publish these works royalty free provided that he does not make unauthorized alterations to them.
Finally, at the present stage in our development, global communications and social science being as good as they are, non-English languages serve only negative purposes. They foster nationalism, separatism and prejudice; and they, especially Mandarin, facilitate espionage. Although the Five Eyes Agreement, the recently divulged, secret agreement between the US, the UK, Canada, Australia and New Zealand to share intelligence, has been roundly denounced as prejudicial and intrusive, it has the above, strong argument in its own defense.
Pursuant to this important need to replace all the other languages with the world’s simplest trade and port language (except in a few towns where the most difficult languages should be maintained as military codes in the most unlikely event of the invasion of aliens from other planets), I have produced another publication, Converting the World to English. This publication is sold at cost and available at Amazon.com and Smashwords.com.
Oh! There is one more thing that must be said before I let you go. As I admitted above, I lied to you about “George” in my previous work, Just Say No to Latent Homosexual Crusades. I had to. I haven’t made contact with any aliens, and neither has American or Chinese intelligence. If they had, my books would have soon thereafter been plastered all over the front windows and web pages of bookstores everywhere.
But astrophysicists and geologists have discovered a truth requiring us to fear what’s-out-there more than ever. Four hundred and forty million years ago, almost all life on this planet was snuffed out by gamma ray radiation that came from a supernova, the death of a star that was approximately 6,000 light-years away. Apparently, supernova explosions and the subsequent gamma ray bursts routinely kill life wherever it evolves, and this explains why we still haven’t found any extra-terrestrial life. In order to maximize our chances of preserving life on this planet, we have to maximize our cooperation and our pace of evolutionary progress. That’s what the books and policies of Dr. Truthen will enable us to do.
Sincerely,
David R. Huttner

Endnotes
Stage II will put girls through an intensive course in health and safety, marriage and family life, starting at three and one half years of age. At age four, Stage II will use baby-face-generating software and finding-Mr.-Right software (an enhancement of face matching software that is described in Endnote Viii) to match up each girl with the new-born baby boy who will look the most like her father. At age four, she will become the wife and mother of that baby boy. This system of marriage and child rearing will enable everyone to enjoy heterosexual love with the perfect partner, eliminate divorce, promiscuity, sexual deviance, violent crime and the Oedipus and Electra complexes. (The latter are Freud’s names for the contradictions owing to the fact that, in savage society, boys grow up being reared by and loving another man’s wife. Girls grow up being reared by and loving another woman’s husband.) Stage II will also enable us to empower women within the family as never before – even without the control of an archaic language as Chinese. Finally, Stage II will enable us to make gifted persons of all the girls and geniuses of the boys.
The Ks are the people on top with respect to income, wealth and education. They rely on the K, quality reproductive strategy. Like the large mammals, they have relatively few offspring but equip and train them well. Virtually all of their offspring survive long enough to reproduce the parents’ genes. The people on the bottom with respect to income, wealth and education do as the small animals and the insects. They rely on the R, quantity strategy. They have many children, but each of their ill-prepared offspring is less likely to thrive and reproduce their parents’ genes. These two extreme strategies, K and R, are inseparably connected. They cause each other and are what the class struggle is really about. That’s why the class struggle can never be won. It can only be minimized by maximizing equal opportunity (to minimize K) and population control (to minimize R). Because all of our problems are just symptoms primarily of K and R, none of our problems can be solved – nor can we have a civilized and sustainable world – until we do this.
The serenity prayer says: Oh Lord, help me to have the courage to change what I can change, the forbearance to forebear what I cannot change and the wisdom to know the difference between the two. You can always change yourself by improving your own mind.
What do you have when you have a bus load of lawyers going over a cliff with one seat in the bus empty? Answer: a waste of resources. What do you have when you have a thousand lawyers chained to the bottom of the ocean floor? Answer: a damn good start. How do you know when a lawyer is lying? Answer: his lips are moving. I could write a book full of these, but somebody has already done it.
“Freedom to differ is not limited to things that do not matter much.
That would be a mere shadow of freedom.
The test of its substance is the right to differ
as to things that touch the heart of the existing order." – Justice Robert Houghton Jackson in West Virginia State Board of Education vs. Barnette, 1943.
By the way, while censoring screenplays such as the ones I write, the secret police distort others and produce some of their own. All this is necessary so as to perfect the brainwashing of the public. One movie that the US police agents obviously had a big hand in was Conspiracy Theory, a movie that starred Mel Gibson. The story line is as follows. Mel, a taxi driver like me, is an extremely paranoid person who sees conspiracies in everything. His illusions turn out to be the result of having been an unknowing victim, a guinea pig, in a CIA experiment with hallucinogenic drugs. The CIA halted this ill-conceived and criminal experiment long ago but didn’t inform or compensate the victims as justice would require. Mel had to gradually recover his mental health and fight single-handedly for his restitution.
Now, the intended purpose and overall effect of this pernicious film was to convince the gullible and ignorant American public that the US intelligence community (with a $400,000,000,000 annual budget) and the many well-funded lobbies that operate perennially and 24/7 in Washington D.C. and all the state capitols are not doing anything in private that is opposed to John Q. Public’s interests. The idiots who believe this stamp all of us who tell them otherwise as “conspiracy theorists” and dismiss whatever we say or write.
My invariable response to these parrot-talking geniuses is to tell them the following: in our savage, K and R world, it is absolutely inevitable that whenever people meet regularly and privately, they will automatically ferret out their common interests, identify the individuals and social forces opposing or hindering those interests and scheme to defeat, eliminate or neutralize these opponents. That is why we call any group that meets privately and regularly……………………….. a club.
By the way, later in his career, Mel redeemed himself. He starred in or made several great movies, such as Braveheart, The Edge of Darkness and Apocalypto. The subject material for Apocalyto was entirely accurate and appears to have been lifted entirely from my Decoding the Deluge, Volume 2, Chapter 35, México Sangriento (Bloody Mexico). The movie deserved a much better reception than what it got from a public raised on Disney. I admire Mel.
Here “m” and “f” stand for male-dominated and female-dominated, respectively.
Any “face matching” software currently in existence most certainly is based upon the algorithm for face recognition software. The face recognition algorithm imputes equal value to every facial characteristic and thereby omits the all-important subjective aspect of beauty. What we most value as beautiful is the feature of the opposite sex parent that is most anomalous or statistically abnormal. The feature that we value second most is the second most anomalous feature of that parent, etc. Therefore, the algorithm for selecting from a massive database of photos the photo that the subject person will find most attractive is as follows:
1) For every record (person), have a frontal and at least one side profile photo. Map the facial detection points on these photos.
2) Measure and calculate at least 50 (preferably one to two hundred) index values, the same ones, for every record. For example, one index value would be the length of the head from chin to crown divided by the breath of the head from cheek bone to cheek bone. Another index value would be the length of the nose divided by distance between the upper lip and where the lower nose attaches to the face. Angles would also be indices. Save the database of these absolute values, as they will have to be periodically recalculated as new records are added to the database.
3) Calculate the average and the standard deviation for each index.
4) Make (2N)! folders, where N is the number of indices measured and calculated, and each folder name is a different sequence of positive or negative indices. A positive index is one in which the index values are larger than the average or the angle is in one direction. Negative index values are those for proportions smaller than the average or angles in the opposite direction. For example, two folders with exactly the same sequence of positive and negative indices have to exist as two folders because the last index value is positive for one folder and negative for the other.
5) Convert each record’s index values into its standard deviations (+ or -) for these values.
6) Describe each record (person) by that sequence of index values that orders them from his highest to his lowest absolute standard deviation.
7) Store each record, so described, in the corresponding folder.
8) Follow the same procedure in describing and storing the record for the subject –or better still –for his or her opposite sex parent.
9) The subject’s Mr. or Ms. Right will be in the same folder, one or two records above the subject (or the subject’s opposite sex parent).
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arno ralf kneisel - osce/ksze-missionsleiter der StadtCOLOUR (user currently living in SWITZERLAND) posted for gay readers on 21/09/2013 tagged with tourism, at the work place, gender identity, human rights, religion
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we have reorganisation in our project StadtCOLOUR and new contacts for the worldwide gay-community:

StadtCOLOUR
www.osce-mission-der-stadtcolour.de.rs
www.botschaftderstadtcolour.com
www.flickr.com/photos/wim-international
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I am a documentary filmmaker, gay, and have just completed a film called STRAIGHT LINE CURVE. It showcases seven successful gay men of the USA Southwest who do not fit the stereotypes often associated with homosexuality. Each man has a high profile and is fulfilled, optimistic, inspirational and proud.

I believe this film offers the world a wonderful and motivational look at the gay journey, which few people in the general populace knows exists...but it does! This 32-minute film is available on DVD.

Ed Breeding, Las Cruces, New Mexico, USA
email: breeding4051@comcast.net
www.ed-breeding.artistwebsites.com
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Dalton Howard (user currently living in UNITED STATES) posted for gay readers on 12/04/2013 tagged with gender identity
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i have been gay for five years. i'm fifteen so thats about a third of my life. i'm a male, some would call ginger, but the main reason why i am here is because i haven't told my parents yet. the reason why is because my father said he would disown me! i know i shouldn't keep something like this a secret, but i still do. plus i can't have a relationship! this really bothers me because i live in a small town in indiana and there aren't many dateable teens out there for me. i still haven't found anybody, and i'm starting to lose hope. i keep leaving major hints lying around, but know one seems to care! i feel like if i shouted at everyone the truth they wouldn't even hear me! i'm sick and tired of being alone. i need someone, but i just can't find the poor sod!
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Mia (user currently living in GEORGIA) posted for lesbian readers on 25/03/2012 tagged with tourism, gender identity, human rights, laws and leadership , sexual orientation
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I ve decided to write our story here only for the peope who understand and can help somehow. To tell in details my life will be a tragic movie. I was born in Georgia, in traditional communist false family, having despot father and weak mother, always had protest against them and all the world who demanded from me to behave as calm girl obey and not have a opinion, that only boys have the right to do whatever they want. From Childhood I wanted to escape, to have freedom and be strong, and then I realized that in this patriarchatic country be a woman means you are half a human or not at all. I had totally boyish interests and played with boys I considered myself one of them. But when I grow up they saw in me a beautiful girl, at that time I already was curious about other girls, and therefore ignore boys, who got agressive and even tried to rape me. All my school time and institute I spend without close friends,nobody understood what I feel I only had platonic love towards one classmate which she never new. I wanted to become a movie director, but heavy political situation in Georgia prevented my studies, We had no electricity and heating. Till age 23 I spend mosto of spare time reading philosophical books to distinguish my identity. Than I managed to go to USA.And from that day I felt i was a human, I have been so happy that Im free at last that I felt I was in the center of universe, ready to conquire mountains. And there began my first real love story. I fell in love with a demonic goddess, which was heterosexual and I become the only exclusive in her life who she loved regardless gender. I spend the most happy days of my life there in NJ which I thought will last forever becaouse I found myself and what I was lacking all my life Trues, true relationships, pure sole. But afterwards we got many problems, first all we had to hide,cannot move.Than My visa expired and I got back which was a mistake, I returned back in USA second time after an year instead of 6 month I promised to poeple there. Everything was changed.I left my love alone and she waited for me 1 year and Im again with tourist visa. She said go, you will again leave me after 6 months,I said I cannot stay illegaly.After 6 months I my parents made me to depart again from USA, I hoped to study to gain student visa and come again as student and make everything to be successful in career and live with her in California. But meantime regime in Georgia changed and they deny my student visa. I did not realize that time how much I loved her, I did not realize that time that it was the end of all, Time passed, She no more waited for me, I got heavy depression,My father died felt guilty about me and that he treated me bad against my will.I ask everyone to help me to return to USA in vain, nobody cared and nobody understand why I wanted to go there. I Could not tell no one about my orientation,all huge emotions I killed in myself and become more depressed. Than They give me antidepressants which cures one from life, and makes you live zombie without any emotions and feelings.Most traumatic was the fact that I lost my talent of creative writing,I felt like am In Jail, time stopped. I did not relised how 7 years passed.Ive tried to fell in love with other, but in vain, the only one I really needed was her this is my last wish not to die without seeing her. I m totally lost in this life, having undergone so much injustice, mistreatment, discrimination, cynism,bullying ,fighting for human rights for humanity for justice, not only because of my orientation, but of the truth and not obeying to others,being an individum and finally they make me weak. Now I have several years left, asking you to help me spend some time again in USA to get me out of this hell, nobody nomore is waiting there for me now, but I want to walk to the places I loved where I found myself and left my heart.
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(user currently living in UNITED STATES) posted for straight readers on 18/02/2012 tagged with gender identity
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you fags should die thank you
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Zach (user currently living in UNITED STATES) posted for gay lesbian transgender bisexual intersex straight readers on 19/12/2011 tagged with lgbt families, gender identity, human rights, laws and leadership , sexual orientation
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Being a senior in high school I couldn't ask for better in the way of being me and getting messed with. I did get bullied a ton when I was in middle school for the preconception that I was gay. Later I finally came out my sophomore year with tons of support that I have now. Slowly I started telling more friends and adults along the way. Now I plan to find a organization in the states so I can start making a difference here at home.

College Speech here at my high school has really brought the advocate out in me this year. I have always fought for the community, but with the ability to get a voice to my class, has made it more wild. An informative speech I have been working on currently has me on the bystander effect and bullying. That has kept me busy with me trying to perfect it as much as I can. I want to be the one person for small towns to make a difference while I am still here. Then my nation and ultimately the world.

All in all, whatever I can do, I will do it. I will be the one that makes a difference behind the scenes. No fame needed, just the pride of a job that I go to everyday and love! I love LGBTQIASP individuals more then you will ever know. This is the era of change. Here we come.
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astrid (user currently living in UNITED STATES) posted for gay lesbian bisexual straight readers on 09/11/2011 tagged with teaching lgbt rights in schools, hate crime and violence prevention, gender identity, sexual orientation
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ok last year in my school me n a group a friends (gay lesbian and straight) wanted to make a gay club we did everything possible to make it happen but our principle just kept saying no what can we do? i dont want to give up i want to have a gay lesbian club in school to support us i personally have gone threw bullying in this school n i want it to stop im tired to hear ppl yell at me look at the lesbian n tell me mean things everytime i walk around...it isnt fair...help me plz
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Please help each other spread love not hate!
I am begging everyone on this site, everyone that posts here with their stories
Or perhaps comes seeking advice. Please don't hate spread love. We need to unite
As LGBT people! We need to come together. I've read some heartbreaking stories
Of hate and violence towards people on here and my heart breaks. No one should
Be told that they are garbage nor should anyone be treated violently because of their sexual
Orientation. Love your family and friends and cherish each day. You are who you are and we are
All unique individuals and we are all special. Sending everyone hugs. jadesama@gmail.com is my email
Address I want to open my email to other LGBT people so we can help one another
I am new to this but I would love to make friends from around the world and lend some support
To the LGBT community. ( : Feel free to drop me an email!
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As an American girl in her college years, I meet people from all over the world and of all different religions. Although America tends to have some horrendous issues on the subject of gay marriage, they are, overall, quite accepting. Since one of my majors in college is religious studies, I have made a lot of Muslim friends and have learned a lot about Arabic countries. It saddens me to hear of countries where you can be put in jail for life or even put to death for being gay. I simply cannot, whatsoever, understand such ignorance and hatred towards a person simply due to a basic part of their personnage that does not harm anyone else! I'm glad to say though, that everyone single one of these Islamic friends, who come from countries such as Morocco, Egypt, and Saudi Arabia, are all open-minded! Whatever their typical religious or cultural beliefs, they all believe in freedom of expression and a person being aloud to be who they are as long as they don't harm others. This, to me, sounds like a major step. Not only are they spreading Arab and Muslim culture that will spread Gay Tolerance here in America, but most of them even hope to do so in mother countries. I can only wish them the best of luck as they attempt to do so, hoping that I too can do something to aid the situations of those countries where gays are put to death simply for being themselves. I've begun to learn a lot about the Qur'an (Koran) and have learned to speak Arabic. I hope to start various online and in-person groups to continue the spread of positive LGBT outlook from the Muslim/Arab community.
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anonymous (user currently living in UNITED STATES) posted for straight readers on 22/08/2011 tagged with hate crime and violence prevention, gender identity, human rights +0
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I am not a supporter nor a contender of your groups and this is the only way I know how to get this message to you but I was driving on a highway in the central USA and saw a volkswagon bbeetle painted in rainbow colors from New York I was a bit surprised but was really surprised to see the name "fagbug" printed in large letters on each side now apparently this is some lady out to make a statment and has a website "fagbug.com" but the last time i heard people of the lgbt oreantation took offense to being called or refered to as "fags" and as a straight person even I find it offensive. You may already know of this person and their mission but this seems to be a rather odd way to gain respect by advertising the name/term "fag" with rainbow colors which is very commonly associated to the gay community this is just an fyi for the most part maybe your orginization is ok with it I don't know.
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steven kasiko (user currently living in NEW ZEALAND) posted for gay lesbian transgender bisexual intersex straight readers in response to this story on 15/08/2011 tagged with intersex, hate crime and violence prevention, gender identity
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Sorry for what has happened to you am really surprised that in USA you still have people how hate LGBT people because of what they are.If such is happening in USA what about Africa. We LGBT members have suffered alot in hands of governments that are meant to protect us. In Uganda some LGBT lost their jobs,others are recieving death threats,experiencing discrimination unlawful detention by police ,LGBT communities in Uganda have no were to go to as they are scared of the police and even it cant take your case as priority instead they will inform you of the law you are breaking. Yet sexual orientation is a universal right. Let us join hands and try to put pressure on all government to decriminilse homosexuality pass laws against hate camp gains targeting LGBT people .Some of us have been victim to torture discrimination because of being agay we know what you are experiencing as for me up to now am still expriencing the pain from the torture of the police trauma and am ever suspicious of everybody around me. when i was still in Uganda i was ever worrying about life as i had recieved death threats even my house was destroyed Steven Kasiko
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The Honolulu Pride Festival Foundation is starting to kick off this years 2011 Hawaii State Pride Fest hosted in beautiful Honolulu Hawaii September 15 - 17, 2011 and encourage all to come and participate as this year we strive to bring PRIDE AROUND THE WORLD!

As Hawaii and the rest of the United States takes pro-active choices in sharing in the equality and justice for all with long roads ahead the little steps we take will lead to bigger victories for all of our LGBT brothers and sister who do not have the same freedoms we do in America. Help our politicians to understand that PRIDE is one way of showing that we are equal and we do not have to fear the hate and discrimination from the world around us which view us as a minority community who is filled with so called "Sinners". Take a stand and support all of your PRIDE organization around the world as we work hand in hand to creating peace, equality and justice for all!
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Kaye (user currently living in UNITED STATES) posted for gay lesbian transgender bisexual intersex straight readers on 21/05/2011 tagged with hiv/aids , gender identity, sexual orientation, marriage / civil unions
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To whom it may concern:

Please support Patrik Ian Polk, creator of the hit series Noah's Arc, as he continues producing quality representations of members of the GLBT community of color on the big screen! Click here to find out more! If we can help Mr. Polk raise $30,000 this movie will be able to come to the big screen! There are also some great prizes at each level of commitment!

http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/75663717/the-skinny-a-new-film-from-patrik-ian-polk

Please lend any amount of support that you can! You won't be disappointed!
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Jessica posted for transgender readers on 06/05/2011 tagged with at the work place, gender identity, laws and leadership +5
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I am fortunate to live in one of the few states in the United States where the civil rights of transgender people are protected under law. However, protection under law is just a beginning, an important step on the road to acceptance and overcoming prejudice. I am angry that there are people sitting just a few feet from me, at work, who deny my existence and my right to existence. It is especially the duty of privileged and fortunate people to fight for the rights of others.
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Jody May-Chang (user currently living in UNITED STATES) posted for transgender readers on 25/04/2011 tagged with gender identity, human rights +0
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IMMEDIATE RELEASE
Contact: Jody May-Chang
Email: jody@may-chang.com
Phone: (208) 447-8890
Website: http://may-chang.com


Hear Me! My Name Is Catherine! - Legally a Woman, Jailed Among Men

A small and fragile transgender woman sits behind bars in solitary in a men’s section of an Idaho county jail for crimes sparked by years of mental and emotional torture brought on by a malicious parent, cruel state actions, and a savage legal system that refuses to recognize the most personal part of an individual’s identity, gender.

Meet Catherine Carlson, a 56-year-old, on her way to prison after years of what she describes as being terrorized by her family, the State of Idaho and the police.

Read her story and listen to Catherine’s emotional courtroom testimony and exclusive jailhouse interviews of why she says she finally came to the end of her rope and snapped.

On July 11, 2010 she set fire to her home and truck and was later arrested walking down the highway naked.

Convicted of first-degree arson, possession of a hoax destructive devise and indecent exposure, Catherine is facing up to 40 years in prison.

In this compelling and heart-wrenching story about one woman’s quest for simple respect and human dignity, Catherine talks exclusively to investigative journalist, Jody May-Chang from the Payette Country Jail as she awaits sentencing.

LISTEN HERE: http://may-chang.com/?p=3099 Photos and more…
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"Welcome to the 21st Century" by Reinaldo J. Rendon
Oct.04 2010

It hasn’t been too long since the recognition of civil rights for women and our black brethren has allowed their successful integration into what has become a more tolerant, even welcoming society to those that were originally oppressed by outdated laws, and fearful politicians. Although society and laws are still adapting to these modifications, their success has depended mostly on the efforts of those who saw conservation of unnecessary old customs as misguided way to conceal inconvenient or uncomfortable truths. By truth I refer to something universal, unaffected by our perceptions; by truth in this case I refer to equality and freedom.
Thousands of years have passed since certain flawed corrupted/outdated values of the church began to persecute "the wicked", from witches to demons as its doctrine spread through all corners of the Earth. Meanwhile, science has been evolving alongside human civilization and society. Although our knowledge and justice systems have supposedly evolved to the point where we understand all capable humans as equals, (and those not fully capable, as still human…sometimes more), we still don’t have laws that protect and grant gay citizens the same rights, protections, and benefits as our heterosexual counterparts.

Greater understanding of the human mind has been achieved since the consolidation of psychology as a social science. No longer “witches”, nor possessed, we understand mentally ill patients and their conditions; we create treatments to aid them, and structure adequate processes to integrate them into society in a way that they can successfully “fuse” with the system. With the progress of science, and its imminent exposure of the truth, many conservatives have come to re-awaken to the idea that Christianity promotes love and tolerance, not hate nor discrimination. I remember a great quote from a great man who once said “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone” with a hooker-made-apostle lying at his feet. Although we now frown upon societies that throw stones as ways of punishing their “criminals”, many still throw verbal/mental stones at those who are different simply because they were not educated properly and laws haven’t progressed rapidly enough to protect those in need.

“In recognition of the scientific evidence, the American Psychiatric Association removed homosexuality from the DSM in 1973, stating that “homosexuality per se implies no impairment in judgment, stability, reliability, or general social or vocational capabilities.
After thoroughly reviewing the scientific data, the American Psychological Association adopted the same position in 1975, and urged all mental health professionals “to take the lead in removing the stigma of mental illness that has long been associated with homosexual orientations…Thus, mental health professionals and researchers have long recognized that being homosexual poses no inherent obstacle to leading a happy, healthy, and productive life” (American Psychiatric Association, 1975).

This is true in every sense but the legal one, for denying homosexuals the right to benefit from social/financial unions such as marriage deprives them of certain benefits such as tax-breaks, insurance coverage, or even to be treated as a family member at the time of an accident. The right for a gay American to marry their foreign lover in order to live happily in their free country is impossible; their relationship has no option but to end the moment their foreign “life-partner’s” Visa expires.

Furthermore, the absence of laws that prevent the hate word “faggot” being as commonly used as the hate word “nigger” was before the creation of civil laws that protected the blacks, prevents the social boundaries that allow proper growth of youths in a non-hostile environment. Evidence of this are the (now due to the increasing growth of general acceptance, as the next generation of straight and gay citizens whose education has been updated steps up to the plate) recently public wave of juvenile suicide cases...that are sadly, and ultimately, nothing new...
The point is that people’s lives are still ticking away while bureaucrats place the issue on the back-burner generation after generation, refusing to accept that gay people are equal, and therefore deserve the same rights as everyone else. While most other developed nations in Europe, and even Latin American (Colombia, Argentina, Mexico currently debating it) permit civil unions between homosexuals with equal recognition of all their rights, “The Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave” continues to ignore the silent screaming of a small, but definetly existent percentage of their population that seeks nothing more but an equal opportunity at happiness. If the constitution and even the declaration of independence place us all as equals, defining America as a nation ruled by majority, that protects minorities…then how can we allow our rights to freedom, financial prosperity, protection of our nation, and even to live safely in peace without being forced to deny who you are slip away from us.

Is there not a separation between Church and State? Does scientific evidence hold any value over social struggle against the conservation of ignorance? Aren’t we all guaranteed the same protections and rights regardless of our race, gender, sexual orientation, or favorite ice-cream flavor? Do societies evolve or change on their own?

Gay (much like “straight” or “bi”) is also not a choice, but it is something that affects everyone, regardless of their race, gender, or religious preference across the globe since the beginning of civilization. Even animals may choose a same-sex life partner as evidenced by the study of the University of Oslo, that states “More than 1500 species where homosexuality have been observed” (“Against Nature? Oslo). Gay should not be a taboo. Gay is not an illness that can be prayed nor drugged away. You can attempt to brainwash someone into becoming straight, but then you would just be hindering their potential to fully experience their lives, and their rights to explore themselves as human beings without hurting anyone.

Would you want your children, or a loved one's child to live unhappily repressed simply because God/Genetics made them in a certain way that the world hasn’t updated fast enough to fully accept them as people? In a world of repression and lies, it would not be difficult for one to marry someone that is secretly gay, and refuses to come out simply out of lack of courage that it takes to live under such different conditions...do you think that could truly be a happy and honest marriage? Think about the children caught within the parental struggle to stabilize their personal mentality and sexuality and their mental health compared to those that grow up in open and caring environments.

With Florida being one of the many states that recognizes gays’ right to adopt (instead of permitting an vast number of children stuck in orphanages or foster homes relying on state budget/care), we join many developed nations who understand the full personal/economic value of all its tax-payers without any form of discrimination. Furthermore, if the violation of the sanctity of marriage is in question, then know some consider divorce a far greater offense, for it breaks an oath made in front God and the State (perjury?)...but it was still implemented into law due to the social necessity that so many people required in order to find financial and personal stability in their lives.

To simplify the concept a bit more:
If Gay-Joe and Gay-Jane were perceived as “people” instead of “gays” by the majority, our society would improve a lot more having provided every normal human being the rights and protections they deserve. People shouldn’t be perceived legally or socially by who they are biologically, but by what they hope to do for the world around them. This would promote a more accepting co-existence between all members of American society, as well as monogamy and general honesty.

Most conservatives that still discriminate against people based on their sexual orientation are mostly misinformed, or choose to ignore truth simply out of the comfort brought on by tradition or some form of profit. Others are closeted gays who envy the freedom, while others are simply out to hate on someone for what they’ve been taught as “sins” to feel a little better about their own faults; however they’re not the ones we allow to write our academic texts, nor are they the knowledgeable authorities we quote when we teach facts in our schools. Also, if gays were allowed to formally unite under the state, and their individual interpretation of God (we all see our Creator differently, we have a right to do so), that alone would promote monogamy and prevent sexually transmitted diseases among all groups (not that gays are statistically in the lead anymore; now replaced by African-American men). This would also allow more people to reconcile with the bonds that have been severed by temples that promote hate and discrimination, instead of providing help to those in need, or uniting the children of God without casting any stones (if they truly do see him as the supreme judge).

I invite you all to re-examine your definitions of justice, violence, and empathy for we are forging today the world of tomorrow, and as we do, we must do so carefully given how this nation has remained the center-stage of the world (at the very least in terms of democratic ideals) for a couple centuries. It shouldn't take global calamities, waves of pestilence, the bloody (in a term familiar to most: expensive) aftermath of riots and wars, or financial meltdowns for people to focus more in building the bridges and crumbling the walls that separate us, before they become bars in the dawn of an age with diminishing natural resources, and the decaying socio-political values that impede people from realizing how much influence they have lost over the basics of their democratic principles. We are all still working on Dr. Martin Luther King Jr’s dream to make this nation “rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: we hold these truths to be self evident, that all men are created equal”…and that no one should be judged by the color of their skin (or the way God/Genetics brought them into the world).

We shouldn’t wait for it to “get better”, it should be “alright” for all who support and believe the democratic spirit of America, a nation conformed of different states that in spite of being slightly different in their ideology, most stand united as those who wish to protect freedom and peace.
Remember, America is “The Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave”.
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(user currently living in UNITED STATES) posted for gay readers on 11/09/2010 tagged with lgbt families, gender identity +4
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I was reading this article about a woman who's son had just come out of the closet about being gay, and she asked for advice on a suitable punishment. She said that she had kicked him out of the house, but he returned, and in dibelief she had said he expected her support.
Did you know that a quarter of teens get kicked out of their house every year for being LGBT?
Also, I'd like to comment on the Nike Shoes ad, and I quote "The only thing worse than going to the ballet is going to the ballet to see your son. Raise a Champion." I think that this is horrible.
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jescka (user currently living in UNITED STATES) posted for lesbian readers on 17/02/2010 tagged with gender identity +4
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On saturday february the 13th I pulled into a parking alot with my girlfriend and two of my friends as soon as I back in the parking person we were rushed by two cops dressed in all black my girlfriend the more masculine one he automatetically snatched her out the car and placed her under arrest and as many times her and I advised that she was a female they still did a full search. After that sure enough they pulled me out the car searched my car found a small marijuana cigarette and then read the mini miranda.....we were just parked they had no reasonable suspicion to search me car or even approached my car. He had actually completed the search and said ok and then other officers came and told hi to search the entire car and they found 29grams of marijuana. I the driver never granted permission for the search . Officers told her if she wears boy clothes she must be a boy.....so basically he profiled her and did a full cavity search. And they even asked me if she was a girl and I told them. Now they are charging both of us with a felony and she is a basketball player and a student and I work full time and going to school. Sure enough we made a mistake because it should have never been in our possession but the way they treated her was unnecessary they searched and mishandled her. And even though she said it was hers they still arrested me. We want to file suit against the county. What do you guys think of our situation? Can email or try and help us figure out this situation email me at st.clair37@yahoo.com
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Samantha (user currently living in UNITED STATES) posted for bisexual readers on 21/01/2010 tagged with gender identity, sexual orientation, illegality of female to female relationships, illegality of male to male relationships +0
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My name is sam. im 17 years old. I am freely Bisexual. i have a boyfriend, but i still like girls,, he has no problem with it. he just doesnt want to know that a girl can take me awa from him. i think its wrong for him to say something like that becasue i love him, but i like girls too. sometimes idk what to do. my dad doesnt like me being bisexual because im an embarrasment to him. but my mom loves me no matter what. i think the only real reason why i am the way that i am is because i was raised by 3 gay cousins. i love them to death. but sometimes ppl think that my brother might be gay and its wrong. everyday i walk around like i have a cement block on my head because i dont know the answers to myself. im stuck in a little box because no one wants to hear me out. and this is the only way i see out of that box...
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