In this opinion piece on the policies of those employed in medicine and law enforcement (but they don’t) which I call the shrink/cop two step, I will explain what is going on, what the policy is based on and how it was told to me over 40 years ago.
A break-in happened recently in one of the cities in the Fraser Valley Regional District where I live. It was a homeless drug addict breaking into a store in town. The reporter saw the incident and followed the police who caught the thief. The police drove the thief to a Subway sandwich shop, took him out for lunch and let him go.
In the corrupt town near where I live in the same district (Fraser Valley Regional District) there is a homeless drug addict, squatter & thief who has been the bane of residents for several years. He steals from everyone, anywhere 24/7 and hoards it on land where the owners do not want him to be. He is a meth/ crank, street drug addict.
He has walked into people’s homes and opened the fridge while they are sitting at their kitchen table. He has been accused of setting numerous house and grass fires. People in town use him as a pawn in their keyboard warrior attacks on each other on the corrupt and highly censored town facebook page (the same page that threatened me and my sister which drove her to her death).
What do the cops do? They bring him lunch and give him a hug.
I was 16 yrs old in Toronto in the late 1970’s in the urban downtown area called The Annex when my mother was recommended to Dr. Marmoreo from the social support network we were relying on as residents of Transition House where we fled to with my younger brother while my father and sister were piquing manically together at their home in Scarborough Ontario.
I had already left home but my mother had called me for support in yet another attempt to flee the abuse of my father and now my sister who began to mirror his explosive madness after she was drugged and electroshocked as treatment. We now know the violent madness was caused by unresolved trauma from cold war, dark lab medical experiments in southern Ontario & Quebec beginning in the late 1940’s. My mother was also a victim of these uncompensated crimes but she chose to internalize the pain and suffering and took the prescription drugs. I have absolved all blame for them (all dead) and now I am holding the bag for the crimes against them rather than the perpetrators who assemble under any guise these days (including other MK Ultra victims).
Dr. Marmoreo remained my family doctor until I left Ontario for British Columbia in 1993. I watched my mother not improve under her care. Indeed my mother hated her for re-prescribing more drugs after she tried to go off them. My mother also hated her for continuing to allow for prescription refills when she had not seen her in years. This is a clear violation of the medical act, but hey, my mother was a write off mental case, you can get away with this stuff when your paycheck is based on making sure the victims take the blame for their abuse and torture. Pardon me, I will rephrase - not responding to treatment and help.
By some conspiratorial like coincidence, Dr. Marmoreo was the head psychiatric nurse at the Clark Institute (now CAMH) when my mother was admitted in the late 60’s after a failed suicide attempt. By the late 70’s Marmoreo as we called her, had switched up her profession to general practitioner (GP) and became hers and my family doctor.
In the late 80’s, I asked Jean Marmoreo what I could do for my mother who suffered so much in silence. Marmoreo had this face that would look down at you with her glasses at the end of her nose and a Cheshire cat grin. Her answer was, “Take her out for lunch.”
The last time I saw my brother alive, he was walking into the sun at Bathurst and College street intersection. CAMH is just down the street at 250 College St, Toronto.
I turned north on Bathurst while he walked west on College. I sobbed without understanding why because inside my internal clock knew I would never see him again. He was heading up north to a summer job. He never returned. He drowned on his first day off attempting to go for a canoe ride.
My fine art show, MK Ultra Girl Remembers is about the last time I saw my brother Michael and the haunting legacy of unresolved MK. I found the strange assemblage of undressed doll placed on top of a cookie tin on Bathurst street just north of College street.
It was 2010. I had driven across country to host my sister’s 50 birthday party in London ON, where I was harassed by my mother’s family. They did their usual joking together at our expense, enjoying the lifestyle they inherited and stole from our mother, that they claimed they worked for.
Nothing is resolved. Nothing is settled. Without your support none of this is possible.
I am doing all I can legally. I have 2 class actions on the go. One is for the psychiatric abuse Ruth suffered. One is for the psychiatric abuse our parents suffered who were both Dr. Ewen Cameron patients in MK Ultra subproject 68 known as the Montreal Experiments. We will likely all die before that one gets anywhere. But Ruth’s class was certified last year at the end of 2023, so resolution is 1-5 years away. I am Ruth’s guardian litigant.
I am taking legal action locally against the injustice and crimes Ruth and I faced in our community. I have to do that all myself in the small claims courts since no lawyer would take those cases without a substantial retainer. I am filing and paying for that myself.
My only support is from people buying my stuff, subscribing here or patreon, donating and whatever I can make with an airbnb on the house I licensed to occupy after fleeing the trailer park where Ruth and I were harassed. Although I have filed one lawsuit and am working towards making Fraser Health Authority understand what they are dealing with, last week, an employee at the dump mocked my sister’s tragic death yet again.
Everyone sells you on saving the children in cages, now tunnels. No one talks about the real plight of childhood dark lab survivors who are now adults. No one is coming to save us but through Jesus and the way through ourselves already in flesh sacks. Please support my work.
Have you ever driven up to visit the place Michael passed? Like a pilgrimage.
I and my uncle went to Cherokee Rock yesterday. One of the most beautiful power spots I've ever seen.