Mongoose Distro

January 14, 2025

It’s January’s full moon, the Wolf Moon. As I approach three months incarcerated, a quarter of my sentence should I serve it in full, I thought I’d write you all. I exist, although surely there are those who wish the world forget me.

Yazoo isn’t as bad as I expected – Miami-Dade jail is certainly far worse. At least we aren’t fed bricks (bologna or pb+j on bread wrapped in plastic). However, the isolation is awful by design. My spouse is my greatest comrade, the strongest person I know, 15 hours by car, they’ve visited 11 days and hope to return this month. Just seeing them, tension instantly melts away. My face soon hurts from smiling so much. Prison is war waged upon the soul, but love and solidarity are our greatest weapons in this fight. The holidays are over, the trips from South Florida will be shorter, but every moment together is a blessing for us both.

An imperious desire to do evil hold 1,100 souls hostage here. No one deserves prison except those who choose to spend their careers keeping human in cages, torturing, starving, and cracking the whip in the attached sewing factory. They deserve this place. One day in prison is horrible, 366 are 366 times as bad. But five years? Ten? Thirty? A friend and his wife were locked up 37 years ago. She just got off probation and was finally approved to visit. Soon they will see each other for the first time in nearly four decades. They can briefly hold each other twice: at the beginning and end of the visit. May all find love so strong, may no love ever again be torn apart for so long. I know that I’ve found that eternal love.

“NONE ARE FREE UNTIL ALL ARE FREE!!!”

I think often of the tens of thousands of Palestinian hostages held by the settler-colonial state of Israel, an appendage of the U.S. Empire. Today, it was announced that 1,000 will soon be released. Sinwar, rest in power, leader of the Palestinian Resistance, called his 22 years in prison “the academy”, for he learned the way of his enemy. The violations for which those gulags are famous are less universal here in the imperial core… unless you’re trans. Unless you’re at FCI Dublin or San Francisco. Unless your name is Darren Rainey, rest in power, boiled to death in Florida State Prison, or any of the other countless names of the lynched, known and unknown. Another handful were released from Guantanamo, where extraterritorial ambiguity means endless torture. Many here in the U.S. awaiting execution were resentenced to death by prison. “We who all have life without parole sentences are the security deposit to keep prisons open and running from generation to generation,” -Angela M. Garza.

Each reprieve is a sad miracle yet together they are but a drop in the ocean. Generations spent their lives on plantation and generations still live in concentration camps rebranded “reservations” and “immigration detention”, often located on or near the ancestral lands of the indigenous internees. Even those who walk the streets have so little freedom: COVID relief aid built the largest and best armed police state in history with cameras on every street corner and cyberweapons to hack every device.

“ALL EMPIRES SHALL FALL!!! ALL EMPIRES MUST BE TORN DOWN!!!”

“Every(one) in prison has a baby-mama,” declares my friend Joker. He is Black. His words carry the generational trauma of chattel slavery when Black men were used as studs then carted away for their labor. Now this country criminalizes abortion and mass incarcerates whole communities. A Policy of forced birth becomes one of forced labor, to provide for the little ones. Some find legitimate work – often a McDonald’s uniform or a military uniform, a Walmart badge or a police badge. In other words, in order to raise a child with legitimate pay, most must become a wage slave or a class traitor, hands soaked in blood. Yet those jobs are so limited or pay so little; many parents end up here instead. Most prisoners in Amerikkka are imprisoned for being poor – selling drugs, fraud, organized “crime”, theft – for putting food on the table. Criminalizing abortion fills the prisons directly with patients and doctors and indirectly with parents trying to make ends meet. Prisoners are both the product (to transfer taxpayer money to private profit) and the labor (to keep the prisons running and manufacture goods with enslaved hands). “Slavery shall henceforth be abolished, except as punishment for a crime.” – the 13^th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution. The maximum pay here for an Adult In Custody is about $100 per month, but most are paid just $22 per month, barely enough to buy a month’s supply of phone calls to loved ones.

“Like flowers pushing up through the pavement, these gentle crimes keep me alive” – (unknown to me, spotted on a sticker in South Florida)

Mississippi really is beautiful. The crab grass planted at the prison’s construction is losing a protracted war to clover, wild lettuce, dandelion, and these gnarly purple flowers unknown to me. There are ancient trees in the distance, painted skies in the mornings and evenings; birds and skunks defy the barbed wire as voles excavate their burrows below. Yazoo City once burned to the ground thanks to the ghost of a witch burned at the stake seeking revenge. The rebuilt downtown was ravaged again by Walmart and now stands abandoned. Humans have not fared well here since Europeans brought genocide to the land. Yet that evil has only soaked as deep as the roots of the alien grass being routed by wild flowers yearning to be free.

I read. I write. I pretend heating instant noodles is cooking. I work out. I sift through the lies on CNN and Fox. I dream. I speak of the world as it could be. But mostly I learn. Here in the rotting carcass of this empire, there is such creativity, resilience, faith; we practice mutual aid and solidarity every day. We know who the enemy is. “Nothing in prison is free” was the first and biggest lie from a guard. Our bodies may not be free, but most of our possessions were gifts from one another, paid for in gratitude and reciprocity. The only things for sale are restricted or banned. Artificial scarcity is key to capitalism. Everyone is worse off for having come here, yet there are valuable lesson in the extraordinary nature of our humanity. These lessons are simply disdained by a society which worships domination and greed.

“I am truly free only when all human beings… are equally free.” -Mikhail Bakunin

The First Step Act and Good Time Credit will qualify me for release on April 10, 2025 as long as I am not written up. But they will hold me months past this date. The Second Chance Act already qualified me for a halfway house the day after I arrived. However, they keep making up excuses to delay the paperwork. The BOP has no discretion – these Acts are law. In practice, the BOP holds folx as long as they can. Overincarceration lawsuits will not win enough to cover lawyers’ fees unless one has been illegally held for over a year too long. So I remain in the belly of the beast at Yazoo City, Low 1, separated from my spouse and my community along with 1,100 others who deserve dignity and liberation as well. Meanwhile, states are criminalizing abortion and “fake clinics” continue to trick and manipulate folx from seeking actual medical care.

Please consider writing me, recommending books, sharing the details of our case, speaking up for bodily autonomy and the abolition of prison, distributing copies of this essay, and supporting my spouse and I:

chuffed.org/project/visitcalebf

Cashapp – $JadeF64

Instagram – @FTLauderdaleFoodNotBombs, @SolidaritySFL

In solidarity against all oppression,

Caleb Freestone

–

My name is Caleb Freestone. I am a community organizer, a peace activist, a husband, a gardener, a sailor, a cook, an artist, a writer, an abolitionist, an anarchist, a revolutionary in South Florida. I am a political prisoner serving 366 days at FCI Yazoo City for pro-choice graffiti in the style of Jane’s Revenge on three “fake clinics” in Florida during the Summer of Rage in the aftermath of the U.S. Supreme Court overturning Roe v. Wade in 2022, allowing unrestrained criminalization of abortion healthcare.

“Liberation in our lifetimes and no mercy until then!”

Preface

To some this will read like the ranting of a lunatic, or else, more likely, as a middling author’s attempt at the imitation of such. Nonetheless, it is sincere and it is a paper some people will have to understand.

In the writing of it, I have had to rely on memory or on old notes; there is no list of works cited, but the information is sound. I encourage curious readers to do their own research.

Introduction

1. We speak of the need for a revolutionary myth. A frame of legend and symbol, archetype and ritual to bind us to and sanctify the brutality of what must be done. And what is it that must be done? The complete and irrevocable destruction of the technological system in every part of the world. What task could be more daunting? What cause could be more lost? But the gods of the earth favor the fighters in such contests. The small and the lost and the desperate and the hopelessly outmatched. The myth was unrolled for us to inhabit. We were foretold. What must be done will be done and we will do it and though the field will be well-blooded we will win in the end.
2. Not so long ago, as time is measured on this world, our species lived and thrived as we were meant to, in conditions to which we had adapted, into which we had evolved. We went upon the earth in small, autonomous bands and the wilderness was our home and though life indeed was hard, and we survived only by the sweat of our brow, we were contented. The vast majority of human history was lived in this way. But then something happened. Slowly but inexorably our kind fell under the shadow of a cruel and blind and idiot god. The Gnostics speak of the Demiurge, called also Yaldabaoth; a wicked, deformed, sightless deity that in its perverse and unnatural hunger for power claimed dominion of the world. A god, perhaps, made manifest in wheat – that great golden slavemaster who caged us first in those agricultural prisons called farms, then in choking, diseased cities and ultimately in a world-system so vast and perfect in its utility that to dream of escape is more often to dream of suicide. A god of metallurgy, smoke and poison. Something less like a god at all and indeed sharing more in common with a virus, an airline catastrophe, a serpent. We will call this Thing the Technium. The Dark One. The Black Snake. Surely it is not a god of the earth, but a crawling thing and though its victories have been great and many and its reign has been long, like any tyrant or similar parasite it can be killed. It must be killed.

We are not the first to say this. It has been said before. It will be said again. And on the day the last ugly buzzing light goes out and the long-captive moths are free to make once more for the moon we will stand in the darkened world and we will marvel that we ever doubted our own inevitability.

Storm and Serpent

3. The great serpent Apep chases the sun across the black and brumous sky of the underworld. All black scales and hunger, a devourer of light. Is it not written? Look now upon the suffering world of the living. Across the desert and the fields and over hills and all through the jigsawed wild and under lake and sea the slithering, oozing pipelines carry black poison and venomous gas to sacrificial fire. The smoke of its burning reaches forth to choke the sun. Is this not that old serpent? In other deserts, in other fields, solar panels glisten like so many black, iridescent scales. Feeding on the sun. Leeching into the earth their venom. Lead. Cadmium. Arsenic. Sulfuric acid. Hydrochloric acid. Hexafluoroethane. Polyvinyl fluoride. Is this not that same asp? And who shall do battle with it? Who shall prevail? Are we not the sons and daughters of Horus? Are we not the beloved and guarded wards of the storm that comes to strike the snake to boiled ruin where it slithers in the mud toward our young?
4. The motif of the storm god fighting the serpent is found in many religions, in cultures separated by continents, by oceans, by time.
5. Thor of the Aesir, god of thunder, must on the appointed day contend with Jorgmundir, the world-serpent. In elder days, the great snake was cast into the sea and there it waits, circling the earth with its tail in its mouth. Thor will die in his struggle, venomed by the serpent’s fang, but he will be avenged. The snake will die. Is that day so distant? Look now. See our skies thrash and rage at their poisoning, their mutilation. See them hurl storm and flood like hammer-blows upon the palsied world as the great ships unspool their enormous, serpentious cables from their sterns to rest upon the sea floor. As of 2024, 458 such cables lay upon the benthic bed. 900,000 miles of internet cable. Enough to wrap around the planet thirty-six times.
6. Yahweh, too, that erstwhile father of Christ, began his career as one among many in the Canaanite pantheon. Alongside Dagon, El, Asherah, and others, Yahweh served as the god of weather and war. Set against him was the gargantuan serpent Leviathan, whom our young and virile supergod wrestled and threw into the deepest chasms of the sea.
7. Zeus and python. Thunderbird and Horned Snake. Lightning strikes the flood.As I write this the waters are rising and in the water, there is the serpent. We must seek higher ground from which to hurl our bolts. Head to the mountains. Some defensible place.
8. As I write this the waters are rising and in the water, there is the serpent. We must seek higher ground from which to hurl our bolts. Head to the mountains. Some defensible place.
9. Are we the ones to hurl the lightning, and not the gods we have named? Did Christ not say, “Did I not say, ‘ye are gods;?” John 10:34.
10. Therefore ready your lightning. The serpent is come.

The Machine Can Bleed

11. The world will not be saved by those who say “the world will not be saved”.
12. In the fist of every David who ever held a stone against armored Goliath, the gods of the earth lend their strength. To every Persius his polished shield. To every Fingolfin his rage. The beast at the heart of the labyrinth is ferocious and it is imbued with great power and it is rapacious and it is doomed. The Dark Lord strides forth from the walls of his iron fortress where in chthonic chambers slaves and acolytes toil and radioactive fuel rods seep death into the groundwater. To stand against him has ridden hard some hate-blind fanatic regarded perhaps by his own kind as a maniac, a heretic, a locust-eating imbecile. For who else but one such would have sold his only cloak for a rusted sword and come thus naked and alone to the gates of the tyrant? And though the king wields a hammer that strikes smoking pits into the earth, and though the champion will die, he will in that glorious moment wound the Lord of Artifice grieviously, so that evermore the tyrant shall go forth with a limp. And by the limp shall the world entire know that he is mortal. That the Machine can bleed. That it can be killed.
13. The meek shall indeed inherit the earth. But it is the vengeful who will win it for them.
14. Industrial technology has enabled the slavery, slaughter, and psychological and spiritual torment of the human race on such a scale that would confound the minds of even history’s most heinous sadists. It has made the earth an abattoir. It has placed the fate of billions in the hands of a few hedonistic madmen. It has subjected us to mass experimentation which has left us sick and blind and cancerous and sterile and docile as cattle, fattened on blinking lights and tinitic from the hiss of hydraulic pistons, the ceaseless bee-hive roar of engines.
15. Yellow-5, the dye they put into Doritos and candy corn and Mountain Dew, when injected into laboratory mice, causes their skin to turn transparent.
16. On December 23, 1921 Thomas Midgley Jr. discovered that adding tetraethyl lead to gasoline reduced engine-knocking in the new, crankless Cadillac Model 30. Leaded gasoline was patented and sold to the public. It was marketed as safe. Immediately workers in the processing plants producing leaded gasoline began to get sick with lead poisoning. Five of them died. By 1923 Midgley himself was suffering from the effects of lead and refused to go anywhere near his own product. Nonetheless, the Ethyl corporation continued to unleash it on the world. By the 1950s there was so much lead in the atmosphere that it had seeped into the bedrock, confusing initial efforts to determine the age of the planet. Lead causes hardening of the arteries, which conservative estimates say cause 256,000 deaths in the US alone. Globally, over 100 million deaths can be attributed to the advent of leaded gasoline. As of 2022, current estimates of death caused by lead exposure range from 500,000 to one million. In 2020, the UNICEF report warned that one in three children globally – over 800 million children – have dangerous levels of lead in their blood. Lead also causes learning disabilities and antisocial behavior. Data strongly suggests a direct correlation between lead exposure among children born from 1951-1980, when leaded gasoline was widely used, and the sudden surge in violent crime in the 1990s. Thomas Midgley Jr. also invented dichlorodifluoromethane, more commonly known as freon. This opened the door to the use of Chlorofluorocarbons, or CFCs, in refrigeration and aerosols, resulting in the hole in the ozone layer, which led to an increase in skin cancer and cataracts. CFCs also contribute to global warming. Per kilogram, CFCs cause 10,000x more warming than CO₂. Historian John McNeil is quoted as saying, “Midgley has had more impact on the atmosphere than any other single organism in earth’s history.” In 1941, Midgley had become so physicially deteriorated that he needed mechanical assistance for the smallest tasks. In order to get out of bed, he devised a complicated mechanism of levers, ropes and pulleys. On November 2, 1944 he became tangled in his own contraption and died of strangulation. To this day, leaded gasoline is still used in airplane engines.
17. We have reached a more dolorous age. The AI Age, which presages if not the wholesale extinction of our species then at the very least the transformation of it into something neutered, deformed, perverted into beasts of strange burden preserving only those components of our being utile to the survival and propagation of the Technium. At the same time the Transhumanist and Multiplanetary cults of the technophiles spew their lies, their blasphemies. They demand our submission, body and soul, to the Techno-Demiurge. These serpent-worshippers. These ersatz Ophites. They proclaim their millennarian prophecies of singularity and interstellar conquest, calling for us to lay ourselves and our planet and our souls and all life upon the altar to progress. What can this be but the Antichrist? The false Messiah comes to lead mankind astray? The beast whose name, like a computer, is only a string of numbers.
18. The beast, as we have said, is doomed. Like the factory. Like the computer. Like the gorgon. Like the giant and the pharaoh and the serpent. For we are foretold. We are favored by the free and wild living earth in whose name we fight. We the fighters. We who see the way of things, the truth evident in our own lives and in the archetypes that have walked the land and the dreams of those that came before us. We who have rightly identified the Great Malady, the Enemy of our kind – the Technium. We stand at the fore of a heroic and storied legion of legend and memory. It falls to us now to do the awful, sacred, wicked work that must be done so that when we die, even in their mighty company, we shall not be ashamed.
19. But we have tarried overlong. We must shed our cowardice, our trepidation, our attachment to the world as it is and we must begin the work in earnest. We could do far worse in this than to emulate the cultic origins of great faiths of the past. Let us gather and sequester ourselves – so far as is possible – from this civilization. The realm of the Technium. But do not misunderstand; This is not to be a masturbatory, indulgent exercise. We must do this not to live as we feel mankind “ought”, nor to “lead by example” on self-sustaining compounds. Like every action we take, our removal from mainstream society must be practical. Let us create such communities of radicals wherever and however possible, removed enough from the System that detection and surveillance is frustrated. Let each function in such a way that enables them to fund themselves and their ventures. These communities will need infrastructure. Internet. The ability to communicate and to travel quickly. Tools of defense. In these Farraday-caged communes let us set about the great work. Let us call it holy. Let us call it crusade. Let us call it Jihad. If we are hated and feared, so much the better. If, in our published writings (like this one), we seem deranged with quasi-religious fervor, if by our propaganda and the deeds we claim we are perceived to be some kind of extremist cult, some sect of frothing and ecstatic zealots, and if we thereby succeed in drawing to us only those who are likewise mad, likewise willing to dedicate themselves wholly to the anti-tech cause, to the war-cry of the earth, then we will not have erred.
20. In the struggle against the Technium there can be no quarter given. As a movement, anti-tech needs the kind of religious fervor that has toppled Empires and changed history. We need our myths and our legends to guide us. Our faith must be unwavering.
21. We will be free. We will find peace. We will have our revenge.

Letters to:

Pierce Skinner 2177819
Lunenberg Correctional
PO Box 1412
Victoria, VA 23974

Books/Zines:

Pierce Skinner 2177819
VaDOC CMDC
3521 Woods Way
State Farm, VA 23160

Dear Director Chambers-Smith,

Hi. I’m writing because I have a sense that we may have gotten off on the wrong foot. One of your administration’s first actions, coming into office, was to illegally rendition me in a black van to Virginia, based upon provable lies of your predecessors. When I returned from rendition, I was irregularly sent to the super-duper-max and, in a second botched rendition to Maryland, staff chopped my finger off and I have remained here at the super-duper-max, several months after I should have had a parole hearing that didn’t occur.

I could be wrong, but between the renditions and the dismemberment and the super-duper-max placement without a parole hearing, I’ve gotten the distinct impression that you don’t like me very much. Just a hunch. But my hope is that I can change that as you get to know me and come to appreciate my sparkling personality.

Yeah. Sparkling personality.

Usually, I introduced myself as an Anarchist. I lead with that because I can’t think of anything more honorable, more significant, more meaningful than to be someone who embraces what has been called, “The Beautiful Idea”– Anarchism. But, perhaps, here, it would be better that I didn’t lead with that. I generally find that an I’m interacting with prison administrators, the mention of “Anarchism” scrambles their brains. Once I mention that word, they can no longer see me clearly… and all they imagine is chaos, mayhem, bedlam, and madness– the sky falling, the world ending, house pets engaging in interspecies fornication.

I don’t want to scramble your brain, so perhaps we should just forget I ever brought up that word? Instead, I’ll share with you who I am and what I’ve done, and then we’ll return to that other topic later.

I graduated high school, received an Honorable Discharge from the Army, and had a writing scholarship for college. In self defense, I killed a guy who broke into my home– a guy who happened to be the nephew of an official who was both the county clerk of courts and the chair of the Democratic Party… in a county where both the judge a prosecutor were Democrats.

The polygraph I passed was inadmissible and I was found guilty of murder, years before Ohio adopted the Castle Doctrine. So, I told the truth and what I did was provably a noncrime. Not that it mattered. It still doesn’t.

While in prison, I joined the American Civil Liberties Union, International Campaign for Tibet, and CURE-Ohio. I served on CURE’s prisoner advisory board for 3 years. I was a founding member of Catholic Justice Fellowship and wrote most of their published work. We successfully lobbied the Ohio Catholic Bishops to support parole reform legislation.

I have logged thousands of hours of community service, mostly painting classroom posters and teaching aides for Ohio public schools. Former Richland Prosecutor James Mayer gave me a commendation for recording the music for puppet shows prepared for child victims of crime.

In 2002, I was personally recognized by Rosa Parks for my peace work in prison, nominated for placement on the Wall of Tolerance.

I’ve taken every rehabilitative program made available to me; I received my degree from Ashland University; I completed and tutored two vocational courses; I received my paralegal certification from Blackstone Institute.

Three of my books are in publication. I’ll send you copies, if you’re interested. For more than ten years, I’ve contributed weekly commentaries to a globally syndicated radio show.

A collection of my songs was recorded by a number of indy bands and posted as “Burning Down” at bandcamp.com. A collection of about 30 of my paintings went on display in September in Stockholm, Sweden.

All of this was accomplished as a consequence of loving and generous people in my life who were able to make all of this possible despite the ODRC’s interference and obstruction… and despite my own incompetencies.

I know this sounds pretty pretentious, but my “personal papers and effects” are collected at the University of Michigan for an archive that celebrates historically influential American Anarchists. Yes, there’s that word again. My apologies. I hope if doesn’t scramble your brain.

Over the course of 34 years of captivity, I have never so much as been accused of a single fist fight or any other violence; never got involved in drugs or alcohol; never joined any gangs. I am, all things considered, very possibly the best behaved prisoner in Ohio penal history. None of this is probably going to enhance my street cred, I imagine, but all of it is true, just the same.

The ODRC’s response to this has been to blacksite me, torture me, isolate me at supermax, purge my friends and family from my visitation list, rendition me out of state, and dismember me. I currently write you from the prison designed to house the 1% of the most dangerous Ohio prisoners, and I’m on the gang list as a gang of one, facing continuances from the parole board in 5-year increments… and, as a consequence of losing my right pinkie, I’m unable to throw a spiral, and so my chances of becoming an NFL quarterback are zero.

I would hope, if you read this, that you would, at least on the face of this, consider what I have accomplished from prison and how the ODRC has responded to me, and that, as a human being, you might feel some level of consternation, a bit of discomfort, perhaps even bewilderment.

Bewilderment is something I have become accustomed to feeling, particularly in those encounters where I bleed a lot.

You might wonder, if all of this is true, WHY is it true?

And that takes us back to that word. The troubling word. The one that scrambles ODRC administrators’ brains.

It all comes down to that word, “Anarchist.”

I often ponder what might have been, if, when I was young and idealistic, I had the sense to not use that word. I could have called myself a “libertarian socialist,” or perhaps an “anti-state communalist,” or even a “horizontalist,” and I likely could have continued painting, playing guitar, writing, and entertaining myself with my own ideas about how the world could be without hierarchy, and I probably would have avoided all of the starvation and sleep deprivation and brain concussions. I would probably be home right now.

But, I used the word. I never had much sense, I guess. I called myself an Anarchist. So, if I can interject here for a moment, not to break up this train of thought, but a piece of advice, a word to the wise: Don’t ever do that. Don’t use that word, particularly when addressing people in power. You have to be very careful about telling the truth to people in power. They really can’t handle it. But I didn’t know. I thought “Anarchist” was just a regular word. I didn’t know it had magical powers, that its utterance could make the sky fall… and the world end… and house pets engage in abominable genital friction. I didn’t know it was a word so hated and so loathed as to drive otherwise ordinary and well intending employees of a state agency to such levels of revilement and derision that they would see me as a nonperson, as an object to be disassembled and destroyed, an enemy to be crushed and conquered.

Well, lesson learned, I guess.

I would like to tell you what the word “Anarchist” means to me– if my use of this darkly magical shibboleth won’t scramble your brain. I hope it hasn’t.

The etymology of the word is a good place to start. “An-” means against, and “-archy” refers to hierarchical structure, so “An-archy” is a rejection of hierarchical structure in human society.

That was as far as I got, by the way, in my explanation to Lt. Oberle here at the prison. He’s one of DJ Norris’ flying monkeys. He put me on the gang list. I got as far as the etymology of the word and I was a gang of one, teaching myself secret handshakes.

In a broad sense, an “An-archist” is someone who imagines our world being a better place if it were structured differently, if the few did not rule the many (and do it badly), if there wasn’t wealth at the expense of also having poverty, if the system we serve wasn’t defined by imposition and compulsion and exploitation and subjugation, benefitting the few and harming the most.

Probably, you don’t believe me. Probably, in your heart of hearts, you’re thinking, ‘I know all of this is a lie; Anarchists want chaos and madness and bedlam and mayhem, not peace and justice… They just want to burn the world down.’ I get it. That’s a pretty common, bigoted trope.

That slander originates with Vladimir Lenin when he kicked Mikhail Bakunin out of the Communist International because Bakunin was critical of Lenin’s monopoly on state power– and rightfully so, I would say. But Lenin smeared Bakunin, claiming all anti-statists were “Anarchists,” set on sabotage and malicious mischief.

Soviet propaganda is really powerful, it seems.

Here we are, 36 years after the collapse of the Soviet Union, and you are still influenced by Lenin’s lies against his enemies, told right after the Russian Revolution. The word he used to slander Bakunin still scrambles your brain.
Bakunin and others wore the word as a badge of honor, embracing it not unlike Black rappers embracing the “n” word to take its power away. If only Bakunin knew then how much brain trauma I would suffer for that word in Ohio custody, I like to think he would reconsider, perhaps going with something more agreeable, like “Bunny Rabbits” or “Unicorns.”

At any rate, I should think about closing this and picking up again later. In my ext letter, I would like to resume this discussion, sharing what Anarchism means to me– that it represents freedom as opposed to bondage; sanity as opposed to delusion; the aspiration to principles of autonomy, voluntary association, cooperation, and mutual aid as opposed to alienation and compliance and obedience under threat of force. It is a liberating and healing energy that permeates our lives and relationships, raising us up to be our best selves.

Well, most of us, anyway. Don’t judge Anarchism by my failures. I’m something of an underachiever.

And, perhaps once this dialogue concludes, you’ll realize you hate me less and you’ll order your flying monkeys to stop the state terror campaign they’ve been waging for decades, and I can be treated with the dignity that all humans deserve.

Just an idea.

A quick note before I sign off– I always close my letters wishing the recipient the best thing I can wish for them: Freedom. I shouldn’t make an exception here, despite the irony that I wish you freedom while you are the official withholding mine from me.

At any rate… The truth is dangerous, Director Chambers-Smith.

Stay dangerous.

Freedom, Sean.

*** Anyone can share this with Director Chambers Smith by email at annette.chambers-smith@odrc.state.oh.us, or by mail: Director Annette Chambers Smith Ohio Department of Rehabilitation and Correction 4545 Fisher Road, Suite D Columbus, Ohio 43228

Kristopher Storey 26731-018
Federal Medical Center
PO Box 14550
Lexington, KY 40512

Salaam and Revolutionary greetings. My name is Zach, but all call me Abdullah. I am a true follower of Sunni Islam and am caucasian as well. I am new to this but want to bring awareness to who I am and what’s going on in my struggle.

I am currently in TOCI Koncentration Kamp. I am 39 years of age as of August 21, 2024 and have been held against my will since 2009. I’m sentenced till 2049 in Ohio death traps.

I came to prison young and just like some was brainwashed into believing racist viewpoints and followed them for years, but I ended up being introduced to Komrade George Jackson studies and had to be around some good komrades who helped me see the truth. I started seeing how pigs used white gangs as puppets to ultimately serve them. I gave up my thinking and see how stupid it all was. As a member of a white gang I was led to think we are bettering each other, but how could that be if it just kept me and others in a criminal mindset.

So, I stepped away from that stupidity. Once I did I had gang members jumping me. C.O.s would loosen their cuffs so that they could do it.

I met a white Muslim brother who started teaching me. I saw how in Islam to teaches to want the best for Muslims, just like how you would want for yourself. So I gave my life to Allah.

I started refusing to allow staff to treat me like I’m not human. I started studying all I could on anarchy and revolutionary teachings and started seeing myself as a man who truly deserves a life.

I started filing grievances here at Toledo. I was given false conduct reports, placed in longterm solitary. They told my friends I’m a White Panther gang leader. They’ve blocked my mail, gave fake gang tickets, and stole my property. I’ve been sprayed with mace because I was doing my salah (prayer) in a rec cage. I was told to stop corresponding with brother Sean Swain or I’d be given a gang ticket. I get told that I’m a race traitor and a terrorist and have had my kufi snatched off my head.

I refuse to be silenced. I will fight for my rights and the rights of others or I’ll go to Allah trying.

I just want to show all what I’m going through. Thank you to all who care.

I’d like to hear from you all.

Free All,

Abdullah

Zachary Barfield A607-507
Toledo Correctional Institute
2001 E. Central Ave.
Toledo, OH 43606

Comrade Z here,

writing to say that all of you Mongoosedistro Maniacs are what keeps me alive through the psychological warfare executed on my person daily. Thank you another wonderful year of resistance and fury, solidarity and sabotage. How we dance as anarchists is the most beautiful movements ever created by humans.

Connally Unit is pinned down, the prisoners are intentionally oppressed and forced into some really sick and disturbing situation’s, that I like to call”Surveillance Games”, and its been going down for years. I’m advocating for prisoners right now, because of the staff misconduct, staff shortage, electrical issues, compromised roofs flooding buildings and causing accidents.

This is a genuine torture chamber, medical neglect, the body count is rising daily, people are dying ….and I know it is because of the lack of opportunities, education, and general respect for human life.

I appreciate everyone,but this fight isn’t over, As the Texas IWOC organizer here, I’m going to need serious help, fighting against the Hand Of God tactics on the prisoner population is genocide.

Warden Cueto and Warden Puente are now responsible for the deaths of over a dozen bodies since I’ve been here, this is unacceptable when the rest of the TDCJ regions are enjoying college courses, vocational training, rehabilitation programs, and parole.

This intentional oppression must be projected to the community for all to see, media networks like The Marshall Project should be contacted by comrades for us and given my information to begin reporting the current situation on The ground, I’m at risk now for speaking out, but I was sent here in fact with malicious intent,by the Huntsville Directors.

Its not the first time either, I’m raising the alarm, and this call to solidarity is for help emailing and calling the States Capital and Texas Governors office to ask why is this region intentionally causing the deaths of inmates, the quality of healthcare reduced, why aren’t programs that are worth a damn being brought here, like UTSA-college courses, or Why is our quality of food below standard when there are less inmates here because of the closure of an entire wing.

Why are linens so rare to receive, this is surreal, the classification department is playing surveillance games with human lives and putting people in danger of sexual assault like a rape factory.

This is unacceptable, they must stop intentionally creating desperate situations and make it seem like they did not know what they were doing. We say stop the bullshit on Connally Unit, we at Mongoosedistro are bringing hope to inmates that are not cool with this form of punishment, and torture.

I need help in this upcoming year, with outside liasonship and creating a direct line to the highest offices of Government in Texas to protest the current regime. Thanks again, and we will be asking comrades to bring media attention from WORTH RISES in New York- Bianca Tylek. Lawrence Bartley at The Inside Story- The Marshall Project….we need eyes on this current situation that is still under operation.

How did it get like this? I’ve lost too many friends to suicide on The Memorial Unit because of people like Warden Deward DeMoss who is racking up corpses there now, this is a corpse factory in Ramsey Unit where I came from,it was a slave furniture factory, where I witnessed the treatment of worker slaves treated way differently. I was once again provoked into speaking my mind,and here you have it raw and uncut. I’m advocating for people now,but I need help because I respect confidentiality in prison, these people in administration use it as weapon to shame you to suicide yourself. It is an understatement,when I say this is an emergency.

Texas Observer Magazine and The Final Straw Radio I’d like to recognize as the strongest media supporters of this kind of love for humanity. Birthday wishes noted,TY!!!!!!!!

Music: Nina Simone-“isnt it a pity”

Samora Pinderhughes-“masculinity”

-Z

Julio A Zuniga 1961551
PO Box 660400
Dallas, TX 75266

There exists now no greater threat to life as we know it than Artificial Intelligence. It is the most insidious and inscrutable enemy human-kind has ever faced, short of the iron-banded hand of God, and it is being sold to us as our savior, as an artist, as an eager assistant ready to write the business-plan for your food truck.

Artificial Intelligence, or AI, by its very existence, represents a slow and agonized extinction of mankind, one in which we are devoured from the inside out by a reasoning and efficient virus that does not hurry to destroy us utterly, but lets us live on with half a heart, half a lung, as the emotional, intellectual, and biological components of our species lose their value to the system and are discarded, creating of humanity nothing more than a lab animal so perforated by experimentation it no longer possesses even the dignity to beg for death. There is no greater threat and there has never been a greater threat. Artificial Intelligence must be destroyed in its every manifestation, in every part of the world.

Undoubtedly, when some readers come to the above phrase, “…there has never been a greater threat”, they are tempted to interject with something along the lines of, “Oh yeah? What about the atomic bomb?” Indeed, the dawning of the Atomic Age was, up to that point in history, the most daunting and terrifying threat to the planet. The truth is, however, that the nuclear bomb pales in comparison to Artificial Intelligence. How can this be? Firstly, for the simple and most direct reason that the nuclear threat to life could not be more obvious. Immediately after the first flames died both the public and the scientific community paused and knelt to remove their sandals, for they knew they stood on holy ground. They could see for themselves the devastation, the madness, the work of human hands, at Trinity, at Hiroshima, at Nagasaki. The threat of nuclear disaster was at once apparent. It took decades for scientists to convince the public that such technology held the promise of peaceful application in the form of “clean” energy, and even today – after Chernobyl, Three-Mile Island, Fukushima, Tsuruga, Goiania, Kerr-McGee, Sequoyah 1, Chelyabinsk-65, etc. – the world writ large still looks upon the “nuclear promise” with trepidation. Memories of fire die hard.

With AI, however, it is different; it is all the more dangerous because the threat is not obvious. There has been no fireball to announce its coming. You don’t need welding goggles to gaze upon it. At worst, AI has elicited a discomfited murmur from a minority of “concerned experts” while governments, corporations, and consumers have wasted no time finding every possible avenue for its application. The promises are first-come, and those who would try to convince us of the multitudinous dangers are drowned out by the fanfare of those who would welcome them. This reversal of the Atomic Age’s threat-promise dynamic makes the AI Age all the more pregnant with calamity. Its brightest promises are shallow. Its tamest threats are benthic. Even worse, in most cases the promise and the threat is one and the same.

Let’s start with the most glaring and apparent danger – that of militarized Artificial Intelligence. The technocrats with their AI promise the end of war with no less vehemence and naivete than Nobel with his stick of TNT. War, they coo, will be fought by intelligent machines, not poor and mangled men. Bloodless and exorcized of human error, the wars of the future will be fought on fields of algorithm and with mechanical certainty. Just as the Age of Flight brought an end to walled cities, AI comes now to render all previously held notions of armed conflict obsolete. Of course, the warlords say, such technology must be guided, safeguarded from corruption, applied ethically and responsibly. The technocrats and the barons of industry nod solemnly in agreement while at the same time they are busy fitting machine guns to robotic dogs. In September 2024, sixty-one countries, at a summit in Seoul, South Korea, endorsed a document pledging the “responsible” military use of AI.¹ Is there really anyone who could possibly be fooled by these prophecies, these platitudes, these preposterous and incondite lies? Who among our species would so readily hand the arsenal of the world – including nuclear warheads – to a machine intelligence designed by the lowest bidder on a government contract? And yet they exist, these people. They are in power. They are traitors to the human race and they are calling the shots.

The course of history from this point forward can by no means be predicted, organized, planned, or assured. AI-augmented warfare cannot be guided, safeguarded, or meaningfully regulated. To believe otherwise is folly. But one does not even need to imagine the breadth of potential doomsdays that lurk on the thresholds of a world governed by militarized Artificial Intelligence. They have already been imagined for us by countless authors of science-fiction.

The significance of science-fiction’s role in the history of technological advancement cannot be overstated. The very idea of an “atom bomb” was cribbed from the science-fiction novel The World Set Fire by H.G. Wells; The submarine and lunar voyages from Jules Verne’s 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea and The First Men in the Moon, respectively; the internet, imagined as “cyberspace” first appeared in the short story “Burning Chrome” by William Gibson; predictive policing methods in Philip K. Dick’s “Minority Report”; antidepressants and on-demand mood-stabilizing pills in Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World; medical nanotechnology in Isaac Asimov’s Fantastic Voyage. Asimov’s once-fictional “Three Laws of Robotics” are to this day part of the curriculum at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. The word “robot” is a Czech word meaning “slave” that first was applied to mechanical laborers in a science-fiction play called R.U.R. (Rossum’s Universal Robots) by Karel Capek.² In fact, it is exactly those works of fiction that present rampant technological growth – especially AI – as an existential threat which seem to have inspired those who work to promote rampant technological growth in the real world. Those who today work on the advancement of AI are no exceptions. Indeed, they are paragons of the ironic relationship between fiction and science.

It is not only science-fiction – at which any priggish academic may look down their nose – that has concerned itself with the potential pitfalls of AI research. In fact, serious thinkers on both sides of the technological argument have expressed concern. As early as 2009, the Association for the Advancement of Artificial Intelligence, or AAAI, assembled with the goal of mitigating growing fears over the dangers of AI. Composed of scientists, the AAAI proposed such solutions as placing “limits on research” as well as the creation of a small, highly specialized “cadre” of scientific elites whose task it would be to “shape the advances and help society cope with the ramifications” of AI.³ Of course, exactly what those limits were intended to be, or how they would be enforced, or how their elite cadre was to be chosen, or how said cadre would go about “shaping advances” or “helping society cope” all remain nebulous. But so what? It is safe to say that by now, no such vision has or will come to pass. Nor would it make a difference if such an effort were made, no matter how well-intended. To quote the venerable anti-technology thinker Theodore J. Kaczynski:

“Of course, the technophiles won’t be able to ‘shape the advances’ of technology or make sure they ‘improve’ society and are friendly to humans. Technological advances will be ‘shaped’ in the long run by unpredictable and uncontrollable power struggles among rival groups that will develop and apply technology for the sole purpose of gaining advantages over their competitors.”⁴

Any careful study of history shows that this is how it has always been, and there is no reason at all to believe anything will change when it comes to AI.

See these things. None of them are hard to imagine: Facial and biometric recognition systems in the hands of the military-industrial complex’s latest AI pet. Communities policed and adjudicated by predictive and carceral algorithms. Gun-mounted autonomous quadrapeds, faceless inhuman androids marching as “peacekeepers” in eerie synchronicity down our poorest streets. The same systems of violence, coercion, manipulation, and control that have made us into domestic animals augmented – if not wholly replaced – by an even more opaque and centralized system of surveillance and punishment, removed completely from the humanity it subjugates, dedicated with a single-mindedness unprecedented in history of those elite few individuals whose interests coincide momentarily with its own. These things await us if we do not act, and act now, and decisively.

But what about non-military applications of AI? What about AI in the workplace? In that case, we are looking at nothing less than the automation of industry. Not of an industry. All industry. Manufacturing, mining, construction, design, teaching, architecture, chemical processing. Airline pilots, tailors, cooks, taxi drivers, pizza delivery drivers, bowling alley attendants, congressmen, prime ministers, firefighters, custodians, doctors, surgeons, bartenders, sanitation works, nuclear physicists, retail workers…⁵ The most innocuous – which is to say, the most obvious – non-military application of Artificial Intelligence results in the upheaval and eventual dissolution of the entire global economy. As human labor becomes increasingly unnecessary, it will simultaneously become more and more specialized so that only an elite few are able to remain as servants of the thinking machines. What, then, becomes of the rest of us, the workers?

If the machines are cruelly efficient, operating independent of human control, it is unlikely that the masses of humanity would be permitted to survive. We would be burdens on the functioning and advancement of a self-reliant, self-propagating system and it is by no means far-fetched to say that we would be summarily eliminated. This could be accomplished any number of ways: gradual or aggressive population control, eugenics programs, or outright butchery. Again, one may turn to science-fiction for their prophecy of choice. In a world governed by Artificial Intelligence, everything is not only possible, but permissible.

If, however, the human elite are permitted or able to retain some measure of control over the machines – a scenario that some might say is more likely – then it is possible that the human race may be allowed to survive. But as what? And in what form? The system of AI and its human elite (we will henceforth refer to this as a “cyborg system”, and a self-reliant AI as a “pure machine system”) will have quite a lot to deal with. While a pure machine system has the luxury of genocide, a cyborg system that chooses to retain a human population will be faced with providing material needs, physically and psychologically hygenic conditions, hobbies, or some kind of satisfactory activities, as well as judicial and disciplinary systems to a vast majority of human beings. If this sounds like a prison, or a zoo, bingo. We would become caged beasts, nothing more. And as those elements of human nature that may lead to dissatisfaction with such an existence – independence, autonomy, creativity, etc. – are “treated” and “eliminated”, we would cease to be anything even remotely human at all. Docile, conforming, psychically sedentary creatures without identity or purpose.

Oh, but wait! What of that diaphanous promise of old? That in a fully mechanized world, either cyborg or pure machine, without the burden of menial labor, humankind would at last be free to pursue the arts? To become painters and poets? I am sorry to say that that promise has been rescinded in light of recent developments. In fact, it has been the arts, the poetry, the dreams that AI has come for first. Artists, actors, screenwriters, authors, are all currently on the defensive as AI has proven its ability to reliably create marketable products, and corporations, small businesses, and production studios have demonstrated no reluctance to take full advantage of such technology. A few key words, the push of a button, a piece of art, a motion picture.⁶ A hit song. The elfin longing for the shortening of the distance between imagination and creation has been realized by regurgitative machines immune from the need for compensation, missed deadlines, emotion, inspiration, artistic intent. Even our surrogate activities and our luxuries are being devoured by AI.

Why should we be surprised? Is there any facet of human existence that has not been befouled by industrial capitalism? Anything the technological system has touched, AI will come to dominate. From medicine to war to fine art and film and food production, every imaginable human endeavor will fall under the control of thinking machines. This will happen. It will likely happen in my lifetime. And once the machines are in control, turning them off will not be so simple. Once a certain threshold is passed, turning them off may in fact be tantamount to suicide. It is imperative that they be turned off now, while AI is still in its infancy.

It is an infancy that will not last long. Like the internet, its growth and sophistication will hurtle dizzyingly forward. Its impacts on the lives of individuals, communities, nations, the globe, will be enormous and wholly unpredictable. One needs only to look at the internet itself to understand this. What in 1990 was created as an environment in which scientists at a single laboratory in Switzerland could share information in 2021 was so ubiquitous and central to global economics that a single ransomware attack caused a multi-day shutdown of half the fuel supply to the east coast of the United States. What began as a network of a mere 23 computers in 1989 by 2024 has become a behemoth to threaten democracies around the world and, in the wake of ten-thousand lonely suicides, now comes with a Surgeon General’s Warning for its adverse effects on the mental health of children. What horrors await us if we allow AI to follow a similar course? What nightmares may come if AI is allowed to mature? This alien mind. This anti-human philosopher-king. There is no world in which human freedom and Artificial Intelligence can coexist.

It would be a mistake not to mention, also, the direct environmental impact of AI. When we are already (in 2024) living with climate catastrophes on unprecedented scales with increasing regularity, in a world already poised to pass the 2° Celsius threshold decades earlier than previously predicted, the energy demanded by AI is staggering.

In 2019, researchers at the University of Massachusetts-Amherst trained several large language AI models while measuring their carbon footprint. They found that just training a single large language model can emit over three-hundred metric tons – 626,000 pounds – of CO₂. This is equivalent to the emissions of five cars over their lifetimes.⁷ A more recent study found that training GPT-3’s large language model consumed 1,287 MWh of electricity and resulted in carbon emissions of over fire hundred metric tons of CO₂ every day, or 8.4 metric tons a year.⁸

As we fight for what remains of wild nature, it is unconscionable to allow the calamitous ruin that AI will wreak on our environment. Of all the things AI requires the beauty of nature is not one of them. Nor is clean water, breathable air, inhabitable land.

So then What is to be done?

I answer: we must hinder, arrest, frustrate, obstruct, incapacitate, and prevent the development of any and every form of Artificial Intelligence.

What is needed is a new movement, wholly dedicated to the eradication of Artificial Intelligence from the face of the Earth.

I propose a name for this anti-AI movement. I shamelessly venture to crib one from science-fiction literature – for, if the technophiles can use sci-fi for their inspiration, so too can we! Let us call this movement Buterlerianism, after the Buterlian Jihad in Frank Herbert’s Dune, a holy war fought against intelligent machines that succeeded not only in the total destruction of all AI, but also prevented the re-emergence of thinking machines for thousands of years.⁹

In order to be effective, Butlerianism must be small, composed only of rational, intelligent, and dedicated individuals willing to work seriously toward the elimination of AI in all its manifestations. This work will of course be varied and flexible with the needs of the movement, but it must include, at least, a robust and relentless propaganda campaign. Of course, in a head to head war of propaganda, the system cannot be defeated; its resources are inexhaustible. But the AI problem, for all its gleam and promise, comes with a certain amount of public anxiety. Currently, that anxiety simmers. It must be brought to boil. By vigilance, outreach, intelligent messaging, and the amplification of every fear, every misstep the AI acolytes make, this can be done.

Ideally, the early Butlerians would come from positions of influence within the existing anti-tech community. But Butlerians must become single-minded, unwavering and unwilling to become distracted by the greater concerns of the anti-tech movement. They must be entirely focused on the AI problem. They must be real revolutionists prepared to enter into an ongoing battle against AI and its protectors.

Make no mistake, this battle will be fought against an enemy infinitely more well-funded and vastly more powerful, but I will say this: As of this writing, AI is as vulnerable as it is every going to be.¹⁰

Any action taken by the Buterlerian movement must be carefully and mindfully considered. Nothing we say or do should help the enemy and the media characterize us as lunatics, hippies, or weak-minded. They will try to do this anyway, so we must make their job difficult. However, when push comes to shove, no course of action that could truly, meaningfully lead to the crippling or destruction of the AI system should be abandoned for the sake of public opinion. The movement, for this reason, must be composed of individuals with a high degree of self-control and risk-assessment skills.

It must go without saying that the Butlerians must avoid association with politics.¹¹ Ours is not a political revolution.

I call for Butlerianism to be an organized, disciplined, and aggressive order opposed absolutely to Artificial Intelligence. We have nothing to lose in fighting but our lives, which are already held cheaply by a system that today only allows to exist so long as we continue to facilitate the flow of capital to the ruling class.

I have written before that Technology is a god with the mind of a virus. Multipotent, omnipresent, inscrutable, but with a goal simply to spread, devour and propagate itself even unto the death of its host. If this can be said, so too can this: AI is the culmination and fruition of Techie prophecy. A dark messiah come at last to take the throne the technocrats and their acolytes have made for it. Traitors to the human race, all of them.¹² They must be held accountable for their wicked creation, for selling the future of the living earth to algorithmic overlords. Furthermore, they must be made afraid to continue their work. They must be stopped.

We have in this brief treatise attempted to enumerate only a few of the evils inherent in Artificial Intelligence. We have attempted to do so in a rational and measured way. But the fight against AI will be anything but rational and measured. It must be furious. It must be holy.

Let us now attempt to set forth three core “commandments” of Butlerianism, the first of which is quoted verbatim from Frank Herbert’s Dune.

1. Thou shalt not make a machine in the likeness of man’s mind.
2. Thou shalt not suffer such a machine to exist.
3. Those who would break the first commandment are enemies of humankind, and shall be treated accordingly.

The enemy is winning. The system that enables and supports AI is enormous and certain, drunk already on its victory over the human race, over the living world. But there is still hope. Hope for the world, for a free and wild humankind unshackled from the myth of technological progress, from the worship of the machines. And there is no greater threat to that hope, to the realization of that freedom, than Artificial Intelligence. There is no more worthy fight. There is no holier war.

Death to the machines.

Long live the fighters.

Yours For Wild Nature,

September 2024

The following is an incomplete but worthwhile list of some of the most public and outspoken advocates, innovators, etc. in the growing field of AI as of September 2024.

Sundar Pichai, CEO, Google

Larry Page, Co-founder, Google

Satya Nadella, CEO, Microsoft

Sam Altman, CEO, OpenAI

Jensen Huang, CEO, NVIDIA

Rohit Prasad, Head Scientist, AGI, Amazon

Demis Hassabis, CEO, Google DeepMind

CC Wei, Chairman and CEO, TSMC

Masayoshi Son, Chairman/CEO, Softbank

Lisa Su, CEO, AMD

Jonathan Ross, CEO, GROQ

Mustafa Suleyman, CEO, Microsoft AI

Andrew Feldman, CEO, Cerebras Systems

Christophe Fouquet, ASML*

Brett Addock, CEO, Figure

Lawrence Lek, artist/filmmaker

Michael Burns, Vice Chair, Lionsgate

Palmer Luckey, Founder, Anduril Industries**

Dario Amodei, CEO, Anthropic

Eric Schmidt, Founder, Schmidt Futures***

*ASML is currently the world’s only producer of manufacturing equipment for advanced semi-conductors, without which AI would be impossible.

**Anduril Industries makes AI weapons systems for militaries around the world; also deserves a strongly worded letter for the audacity to use the work of Tolkien as inspiration for his vile enterprise.

***Schmidt is one of the most powerful voices on AI policy in Washington and is at the time of this writing, working to develop AI-powered “Kamikaze drones”.

WORKS CITED

• BBC, “Lionsgate announces collaboration with AI video company Runway”, Sept. 19, 2024
• Berengruen, Booth, Campbell,, et al “The 100 Most Influential People in Artificial Intelligence” TIME vol. 204, Sept. 16, 2024
• Fact sheet: Political Declaration on Responsible Military Use of Artificial Intelligence and Autonomy, Bureau of Arms, Control, Deterrence, and Stability. Nov. 1, 2023
• Gibbs, “Apple co-founder Steve Wozniak says humans will be robots’ pets”, The Guardian, June 2015
• Global News, Sept. 11, 2024
• Jordan, www.thereader.mitpress.mit.edu, July 29, 2019
• Kaczynski, Anti-Tech Revolition: Why and How, 2^nd ed. pg. 37, 2020
• Markoff, “Scientists Worry Machines May Outsmart Man”, New York Times, July 26, 2009

NOTES

1Global News, Sept. 11 2024, “Canada plans to use AI in military, but minister says it won’t replace humans.” Conspicuously absent from the list of countries endorsing the agreement were China, Russia and Israel.

2By the time the play premiered in Prague in 1921, Karel Capek was already a respected intellectual. Like so many following the carnage of mechanized and chemical warfare in WW1, he was deeply skeptical of utopian notions surrounding science and technology. Following the play’s premiere, Capek told the London Saturday Review, “The product of the human brain has escaped the control of human hands… this is the comedy of science.” (see Jordan, works cited)

3Markoff, “Scientists Worry Machines May Outsmart Man”

4Kaczynski, Anti-Tech Revolution: Why and How, 2^nd Ed., Fitch and Madision, pg. 37

5Not one of these industries listed is immune to replacement by AI. Already jobs are being replaced by literal robots. For only one example, in January 2024, Brett Addock, the CEO of robotics firm Figure, partnered with BMW to put humanoid robots to work at the automaker’s South Carolina plant. (see Berengruen, Booth, Campbell, et al. in works cited)

6In September 2024, Lionsgate Studios announced they would be partnering with AI company Runway to allow a new AI model to be trained on their extensive film and TV archive. According to Lionsgate’s vice chair, “Runway… will help us utilize AI to develop cutting edge, capital efficient content creation opportunities.” (emphasis my own). In response, actor Alexander Chard posted to X, formerly Twitter, “Our worlds, performances, and direction are merely to feed the machine until we’re no longer needed.” (see BBC, works cited)

7Technology Review, June 2024

8See Berengruen, Booth, Campbell, et al in Works Cited

9I dunno. Really, you can call it what you want, but Butlerianism sounds cool, and I like the irony of using a concept from science-fiction in a way opposed to technology. What is important is that the movement organize as quickly as possible.

If you havent read Dune you totally should. All six Dune novels by Frank Herbert are worthwhile; just stay away from anything written by his talentless cash-grabby son, Brian.

10As of 2024, only three companies are able to manufacture the chips required by advanced AI systems. These are TSMC, AMD (Advanced Micro Devices) and NVIDIA. Currently NVIDIA’s H100 chip is dominant, but earlier in 2024 AMD developed a chip that was banned from export by the US Commerce Department because it was too powerful to comply with regulations. (see Berengruen, Booth, Campbell, et, al in Works Cited)

11This is not to say that Buterlians should adopt an “all are welcome” approach. Quite the opposite. The movement must strive to eliminate from its ranks and bar from entry both politically-correct, social-justice liberals, as well as the far more repugnant “alt right”, neo-nazi, eco-fascist types.

12 Larry Page, co-founder of Google, is quoted as saying, “It would be a good thing if digital life were to outcompete human life.” (see Berengruen et al in Works Cited). Apple co-founder Steve Wozniak once said that “robots taking over would be good for the human race.” (see Gibbs, Works Cited)

Welcome back readers,

To those who read parts 1 and 2 of my essay To Those Interested in the Gangstalking of a Targeted Individual you know that I mentioned being surrounded in a grocery store by street-gang members, intent on kidnapping and murdering me, and that I barely escaped with my life, and that I hinted that it would be the subject of my next piece. But, I sat down to write it and realized I haven’t supplied enough backstory as a foundation. To properly put in perspective how I came to know about gangstalking, I’ve decided to write the story of the events that happened over a three-day period that led to my discovery of what gangstalking is.

In my first two editions I wrote about the details of my first and last incidents of being targeted by gangstalkers. The last, or latest, incident of gangstalking I wrote about is what is in part 1. To clarify, it wasn’t the actual latest incident, but it was the last incident before the murder in November 2016 that led to my arrest and 48-year sentence. The murder was itself an act of gangstalking, in which I was made into a puppet and controlled by the gangstalkers in what in hindsight was a scripted, real-life horror-movie, direct and produced by the gangstalkers.

The next two and a half years I spent in Larimer County Jail was the most intense period of my targeting by the gangstalkers. I was gangstalked on a daily basis and had no way to get away from my stalkers, who microwaved me so badly with their Directed-Energy Weapons that they caused permanent brain damage, as my intelligence seems to have remained intact, but my memory and the recall function of my brain has been severely damaged. It was a nightmare! During this period is when a three-day series of events led to me obtaining a book that finally gave a label to this freakish psychological black-ops commonly referred to by the slang-term “gangstalking”.

My second publication, part 2 of To Those Interested in the Gangstalking of a Targeted Individual was actually describing the first incident I can remember of me being gangstalked. Part 1, was the story of how I was kept awake for several days by the gangstalkers’ hidden remote mind-manipulation tools until I turned myself in to the ER of a local hospital, simply to discover why I couldn’t sleep, at which point I was involuntarily committed to a mental hospital miles away and secretly imprisoned by agents posing as hospital orderlies. After eating a sandwich tainted by some kind of poisonous bio-agent, I spent hours vomiting and suffering dysentery, in convulsions, naked on the bathroom tiles, until I cycled down into a coma, only to wake up in the mess the next day. I was told nothing will be done about it and they refused to release me for another twelve hours.

The poisoning was not accidental food-poisoning, it was deliberate. Three staffers gathered around me to watch as I lay in the fetal position vomiting and shitting in terror and did absolutely nothing at all to help. Instilling a sense of helplessness in the “target” is a major component of gangstalking in general. The point of it seems to be to see how far the target can be pushed until they completely break down. This was the last gangstalking incident some time in October 2016 before I got the apartment in November that, unknown to me, was the prearranged staging-area for the murder, cooked up by the gangstalkers.

The first gangstalking incident I can remember was in the summer of 2004 when the Frey Effect was used on me for the first time. The Frey Effect is a scientific term to refer to the act of causing a person to hear voices by aiming a microwave device at them and transmitting audio via a microwave beam carrying an RF signal. If you can imagine the transmitting power of a modern cellphone being multiplied a hundred times over and directed at your skull from a distance, you get the idea. Microwaves affect water the most, and the body is about 94% water, so your skin in effect becomes the receiver for a radio signal containing audio transmitted on a microwave beam. The audio is piggy-backed on a microwave transmission so that it transmits through the air silently, but upon hitting the human target the person hears it as sound.

There is a fluid-sack behind the eardrum that controls sense of balance in a human. The same nerves that connect to the eardrum also connects to this fluid-sack and the microwaves affect it. During the first Desert Storm war under President George Herbert Walker Bush, the US Army used the Frey Effect to say: “This is Allah, your God! Put down your arms and surrender to the Infidel! I command you!” So many of them peacefully surrendered that they ran out of busses to transport them to the P.O.W. facility! Many people know about the mass-surrender, but most people do not know about the Frey Effect. Gangstalkers depend on it as a tool against their target because, if the target reports it to authorities, they are generally labeled as schizophrenic and sent to a mental ward, which is beneficial to the perpetrators because they want to damage the credibility of the targeted individual so that they won’t be believed when they report even more heinous acts done to them by the gangstalkers.

Since coming to prison, I’ve met and befriended about a dozen legitimate Targeted Individuals. A targeted individual, or TI for short, is the most common definition of a victim of gangstalking. I say legitimate T.I.s because gangstalking has become a common enough subject on conspiracy-theory websites that a lot of people now imagine themselves to be a targeted individual if they experience one or two of the symptoms described on these various sites. Furthermore, a lot of chronic meth users imagine themselves to be T.I.s because of the paranoia and auditory hallucinations that the drug causes. The perpetrators of gangstalking know this and seem to prefer targeting meth users. The overarching point of gangstalking, beyond total destruction of the target’s life in every sense of the word, is to create a cover of unbelievability to it. The perpetrators want anyone and everyone whom the target reports the gangstalking to, to think it isn’t happening. They want people to think the TI is “on drugs” or is a “paranoid schizophrenic” or has other mental health issues. It is important to the perpetrators that the victim is not believed. It adds to the sense of helplessness that the TI’s experiences, the point being to literally push the target into a nervous breakdown. The various types of harassment and tortures the TI suffers at the hands of the sociopathic cowards, added to the fact that no one believes you, adds up to a sense of loneliness, helplessness, and terror that you as a non-TI can’t even imagine. The point of this is to push the target into a corner that results in permanent psychiatric hospitalization or a very long prison sentence for lashing out violently, due to the synthetically-caused insanity, like I did. This is if you don’t commit suicide first.

The CIA, who originally invented gangstalking before passing it to the FBI to use against “problem” social figures like anti-Vietnam War agitators and the Black Panthers during the tumultuous 1960s, calls the act of pushing a target to suicide or incarceration being “in play” and the “end game”. The target is labeled as “terminal”. Once selected to be a T.I., it never stops until the end-game is achieved.

My gangstalking did not stop until I made it into prison, specifically this prison, since I’m told other prisons have a continuation of it. In fact, one of the agents acting against me as a “counselor” at the county jail quit her job there and became a corrections officer and was waiting for me to get off the bus at Territorial Correctional Facility! Because they eavesdropped on conversations I had at the county jail, in which I was told by ex-cons that it was the best prison, and how I can make sure to get sent there. As the bus pulled into the parking lot at Territorial, she came up to the bus and looked into the window I sat next to and locked eyes with me. She gave me that “gotcha!” look, she was waiting for me. That is one aspect of gangstalking: the people hired to follow you around and harass you will literally change jobs to be able to keep following you around. This is intended to create a certain type of mental claustrophobia because you can’t get away from them.

The purpose of this third effort in my series on gangstalking is not to perfectly describe the phenomena, but to show you, the reader, whom I hope will continue to read all the parts in my series, how I came to discover that I was a targeted individual. Before I found out about it, I thought maybe I was experiencing some kind of Black Magick spell being done on me by witches. In a way, it is.

See, I am a solid Gen-X guy. I was born in 1968 and am currently 56 years old. There are some in my generation who never did take to computers. Call us luddites or old-fashioned or what have you, but I just never did become one of those guys who spends five or six hours a day online, like so many others do. In the late 90s/early 00s, when “internet cafes” were a big deal, I did enjoy going to a local coffee shop and ordering a latte in order to get on a computer for a couple hours. But this was before Facebook. In those days, MySpace and anonymous chatrooms were a big deal. The internet was a very different place in those days. During my web surfing, I never ran across gangstalking websites. I didn’t go online to research, I went on to play. It amused me. I also liked shopping on eBay for rare books and vinyl records because, if you like something enough to buy it, a lot of times you could email the seller and a friendship can develop. After all, it takes a certain kind of person to want to get someone to send you a cassette copy of The Decline of Western Civilization, Vol II because you can’t afford the $150 double-LP version. The person actually does it for you and you find out it’s a purple-mohawked punk rocker couple who bought their first house out in the sticks in Redneck country, Georgia. The internet was just a lot more fun and innocent in those days before Twitter.

So the thing is, I stopped being online around the time that gangstalking became a well known thing, in the 2010s. It really started to be a thing around 2011 or 2012, and that’s when I started to notice it the most. Some time between 2014 and 2015 I was asked by a Mason if I wanted to join the Freemasons as an apprentice and I said “no” because I had a dream about it in which I said “no”, so I thought that was the answer I was meant to give them. It was after that when the gangstalking really became pronounced and… it’s just so bizarre.

I think the occult nature of the Masons goes hand-hand-hand with the types of things gangstalking does to a person. In fact, there is a spiritual aspect to gangstalking. To find out more about it, I would suggest reading any of the Carlos Castaneda books, beginning with his second or third book, and on to the latest. (Don’t bother with his first book, which doesn’t talk much about gangstalking.) In the Castaneda books it is simply called “stalking” and is described as a form of sorcery done to an enemy to cause them to become trapped into a situation that will cause them to get killed without ever actually raising a hand to them. It’s a form of manipulation intended to accelerate negative karma, like a “spiritual judo” or a way to get your enemy to step into a kind of “spiritual quicksand” that manifests itself in reality.

Carlos Castaneda teaches sorcery divided into two paths: Stalking and Dreaming. The act of “dreaming” is just stalking that you do while asleep. You can enter bodily into another person’s dreams at night and do much harm to an enemy. This is another thing they did to me, they fucked with my dreams, beginning in 2017, when I spent the next two and a half years in Larimer County Jail, fighting my case. But, the difference between the Castaneda methods and modern-day gangstalking is technology.

There is some kind of computer-assisted device that can broadcast video images into your mind during the deep REM cycles of dreaming and also use reverse remote-viewing. People trained as “dream warriors” can use a version of remote-viewing to enter a victim’s dreams and fuck around. It’s the broadcasting version of remote-viewing.

I will not take the time to explain remote-viewing here, there is plenty of information about it on the net that you can “Google”. However, I think it’s important to write these articles and, in general, read books about gangstalking because there is a lot of disinformation about it online. Whenever a legitimate website pops up that gives real and genuine information about gangstalking, it’s not up for long before it gets either destroyed or compromised with disinformation by the very people who are perpetrating it, whether it be the CIA, FBI, NSA or another three lettered organization. The raven1.net website used to be the #1 most informative website on the subject, and I’ve been told it doesn’t exist anymore. Many websites will tell you that gangstalking doesn’t exist at all and that it is a made-up “fake news” conspiracy-theory invented by tinfoil-hat conspiracy-nut websites of the sort that promote things like flat-earth theories. Let me ask you this: What do I have to gain? My pamphlets are free and all that telling my story does is expose me to more potential harassment. I just want to help and perhaps be helped some day, and to reach out to others like me.

I have also provided my publisher with proof in the form of photos of some of the devices used in a typical gangstalking scenario, microwave-based handheld weapons that can see and hear through walls and also broadcast hidden audio using

the Frey Effect. As I mentioned earlier, this weapon can in fact even cook you with its microwaves, through walls and from a distance. I have instructed my publisher to insert photos of the device here in the pamphlet for you to view. As you can see, a cop is holding the long-barreled laser-rifle version in one photo, and in the other photos, a handheld pistol version with a mini-microwave dish on the barrel, demonstrated by another cop, made by the Raytheon company, with blueprints provided. Don’t believe me? Look it up! How people can look at these photos of the devices and the name of the company who made them and still not believe is beyond my comprehension. I believe that getting people, the status quo, the general public, to believe gangstalking is real is step-1 to being able to fight it. How can we solve a problem if we are in denial about it?

Having said all that, I want to tell you a sequence of events that happened over a period of three days that led me to discover what gangstalking is, and how I discovered that I am a Targeted Individual. Whether you want to call it God or The Universe or what have you, a power greater than myself and above all that I know wanted to communicate this to me with a certain kind of serendipity. I am either ensconced in irony or mired in it, depending on your point of view. But, however you view it, the fact is I had no idea what gangstalking is until a series of events happened to me over the course of three days in Larimer County Jail. Before that, I alternated between thinking that DEA agents were using some kind of weird high-tech surveillance gadgets to mess with me, because they were already watching a Mexican Cartel-connected drug dealer who crossed paths with me, putting me on their radar, or that actual witches were doing black magick spells on me. This is because that was all I had in my limited vocabulary at the time to explain the bizarre things happening to me.

DAY ONE

Let’s call it a Tuesday in 2017. I don’t remember the month. In fact, I’m not even sure it was 2017, it could’ve been 2018. I’m also not positive that it was a Tuesday, but for the sake of this story, let’s just say it was a Tuesday in 2017.

A man comes into my cellblock in Larimer County Jail around lunchtime in a wheelchair. Me and a friend are located in the dayroom (the common area, also called the TV room) on Army-surplus cots, because all the cells are full. As usual, when a new guy enters our living space, me and my buddy want to know what his story is, and an impromptu talk-session follows.

The man tells us he is in jail for theft. He was going into Home Depots, getting the largest spools of copper wire he could find, loading up his shopping cart with them, and simply walking out of the store. He was able to do this without triggering the shoplifting alarm at the door by using a set of wire-snippers to cut the tag off, which contains a magnetic strip that triggers the alarm, and then walk out of the store undetected. He would then take the copper wire to a metal scrapyard and sell it for hundreds of dollars. A real crackhead style of crime, but it worked, for awhile. Eventually, the law of averages caught up with him and one day he was caught. He ended up in a fistfight with an employee who followed him out to his truck to retrieve the stolen copper wire, and the cops were called. A few hours later he’s on the cot next to mine in jail, telling me the following story:

He explained that he is in a wheelchair because he got creamed by a woman in a minivan. He said he’s a jogger and jogged the same route every day near his apartment. He said he was far enough off of the side of the road that the woman must’ve hit him on purpose. It was a hit-and-run. He said he was able to get a description of the minivan and the license plate number and called the police. The cops were able to find and identify the driver, but she somehow talked her way out of it and no arrest was made. A report was taken, which he tried to use to file a lawsuit against the driver’s insurance, but no lawyer would take the case.

A quick look at his legs corroborated his story. He had very muscular legs, the legs of a jogger, but with horrible scarring where he was hit by the vehicle. It baffled me that someone could be injured so badly in a hit-and-run and the driver is identified, but not arrested, followed by attorneys not wanting to touch the obvious open-and-shut moneymaker of a civil-case. But, this is the earmark of gangstalking: Some of the people following you around and harassing you are agents connected to one of the alphabet agencies, because only a CIA or FBI agent could get away with such a blatant crime like a hit-and-run with no arrest and with so many lawyers not wanting to take the case.

As the storytelling progressed, he began to tell us of his experience with “hearing voices”as the result of the Frey Effect, using the kind of microwave gadgets pictured in this publication. He said he was dating the ex-wife of a high-ranking member of an outlaw motorcycle club in Colorado. This is a biker gang much like the Hell’s Angels. I’m not saying their name here because they are a very violent club and they are very serious about people not talking about them.

So, he is dating this woman who is “Property of” this biker gang. They get in an argument. The argument ends with him telling her, “You know what? I’m gonna go find me a woman who is not crazy and who makes some damned sense!” And she replied, “You are gonna regret saying that to me.” A few days go by and he is alone at a motel in Fort Collins, infamous locally as being sort of a hangout for Cartel-types and loose women. Drugs, prostitution, etc. He’s watching TV when all of a sudden a “voice” starts commenting on the show he’s watching. He changes the channel, but the voice persists. The voice is negative, making fun of him and ridiculing his choice of TV shows. Finally he turns off the TV, but the voices continue, reciting everything that he does, as he does it, in real time to let him know they are watching his every move.

Thinking he got a room with hidden cameras installed, perhaps a room intended for a DEA drug bust and loaded with police surveillance equipment, he turned off all of the lights and drew the curtains closed, thinking if it pitch black in the room the camera can’t see him. Now in the dark, he finds his cell phone battery is dead and decides to plug it into the wall outlet with the charger. Unable to see anything, he gets on his hands and knees and crawls around the baseboard at the bottom of the walls, seeking the outlet by feeling the walls, when the voice came back and said, “The plug you are looking for is two inches up and four inches to the left”. He followed the directions of the “voice” and found trhe plug, proving to him that they can see him even in the dark.

It drove him so crazy that he cried, and the voices clowned him about it. “Why are you crying? Are you scared, you little bitch-ass punk?”, and so on. Relentless with put-downs. Finally, he couldn’t stand it another minute and decided to abandon the room altogether. He turned the lights back on, gathered all of his clothes into a basket and walked outside, across the street to a coin-op laundry. Thinking he was safe now, he got quarters ready to wash his clothes. That’s when “the voices” came back, telling him step-by-step how to do his laundry, again poking fun at him, telling him “Separate your whites from your colors, dumbass!”.

A few weeks later after the motel incident, he’s made up with the girlfriend and they are back together. She takes him to a secret hideout to fool around, a camper up in the mountains on a dirt road. They are in bed fooling around when all of a sudden, members of the aforementioned 1%er outlaw biker club surrounded the camper and start baning on the walls, telling to come out to have his ass kicked. He looks out the window and counts five of them, all wearing their colors. He decides if he’s gonna die, he’s gonna die “with his boots on”, so to speak. He grabs a ball peen hammer in one hand, a hatchet in the other, and jumps out of the trailer, yelling, “Come on! Come get some! You want a fight? You’ll sure get one here! Who wants some of this?!” as he swings the hammer and hatchet at them.

So, then the leader of the pack says, “Whoa! Calm down! There’s not gonna be any bloodshed today, but you can’t be here! That is our camper, you are on club property!” But he came with the girl in her car, and she is their “property”, which puts him in a bind. The head biker guy tells him that he’s gotta get in his pickup truck with him. The other four stay, so he calms down and gets in the truck. The biker drives him down the dirt road off of the mountain into town and offers him a glass bowl full of meth, which he refused. He then offered him a bowl of pot, which he accepted. He calmed down.

Then, the biker says, “I want you to know you are not crazy. That stuff that happened at the motel a couple weeks ago? That was real, it was us! That girl you were with came to us and complained about you, saying you yelled at her and called her crazy! She wanted revenge on you so we decided to mess with you, to teach you a lesson. Some of our guys were intelligence soldiers in Afghanistan and Desert Storm. When they came home they brought they “toys” with them. Remember that white van parked outside with the blacked-out window? That was us. We got equipment in that van that is so high-tech it can see and hear through walls. And broadcast! We get on a radio mic, and whatever we say, you hear. We use the van to keep an eye on our “working girls” in the motels, to make sure the “Johns” behave. And we mess with people if we need to. So, when your girl complained and we saw you at the motel we decided to fuck with you.”

This was the first time I found out about the microwave technology, but I didn’t know the “voices” were called the “Frey Effect” until the very next day when I heard about it on a radio show.

DAY TWO

Wednesday, a cell opened up, and me and my other buddy on the cot got moved into a cell as cellmates. I’m listening to a radio program, a talk show, and they are interviewing a guy who wrote a book about the a lot of stuff, including the exact things the guy was talking about in that motel story. Basically, the man listed most of the things that happen to a Targeted Individual during gangstalking. Every time he mentioned a new thing, I would think “That’s me! That happened to me!” He then described the scientific aspects of using microwave devices to cause a person to “hear voices”, also known as the Frey Effect. He went on to list even more advanced technologies and how they are used against “targets”.

That man’s name was Dr. John Hall, a chiropractor living in Texas. He wrote a book called Guinea Pigs: Technologies of Control. He then explained that everything he was discussing is included in his book, so I wrote down the info.

DAY THREE

Thursday, my cellmate was gone for a few hours and then comes back and tells me he had a visit with his folks. He told them all about me and how I was the best cellmates he’s had so far, because I keep him out of trouble. He was a bit of a psycho and would get in fights with people who did nothing but look at him “wrong”. Always in trouble. But I had a calming effect on him, which he reported to his mother. She was so impressed with me that she told him, “When you go back to your cell, tell your cellmate that I will go online and buy him any book he wants as a Christmas present and have it mailed to him via Amazon.com”, free of charge. I couldn’t believe my luck. Of course I immediately told him to ask his mom to get me Guinea Pigs by John Hall. I had it in my hands less than a week later and read it cover-to-cover that same day. I still have it to this very day. I consider it the “Bible of Gangstalking”, a comprehensive and complete guide.

In my next edition, I will quote entire passages from John Hall’s book, including his expert definition of the step-by-step procedure of gangstalking, who is behind it, and why. But, for now, I just think it is important to let you know how I came to the know what was happening to me in a three-day run of events that were anything but coincidences.

David Matthew Strunk 102504
Sterling Correctional Facility
PO Box 6000
Sterling, CO 80751

Ensuing this introduction is a letter written for Simon Wood by David-Matthew Strunk after the release of an article that Wood wrote for New York Magazine about the life and death of Aaron Bushnell. Wood had reached out to Strunk because of his brief history as a correspondent with Bushnell in order to gain information on Bushnell and subsequently decided to paint Strunk in a negative light and include it in the article.

For further context, please read:

‘Aaron Bushnell’s Self-Immolation’ (nymag.com)

‘Shepherds’ by David Matthew-Strunk (mongoosedistro.com)

Open Letter to Simon Van Zuylen-Wood

of New York Magazine

Mr. Wood of New York Magazine,

I got the magazine last night. Exhausted, I feel asleep before reading it. Here it is noon on July 4^th and I’m reading the (Aaron) Bushnell piece. Not sure I’m a fan of being characterized as “David-Matthew Strunk, a murderer”.

A friend of mine I showed it to said, “You should be thankful you’re not in here for getting caught with a 17-year old girl, because then the guy would’ve wrote ‘David-Matthew Strunk, a sex offender’. You would’ve ended up in the hole (solitary confinement) for the fights that would’ve caused.”

Unfortunately, my friend is right. In prison, a murderer is not frowned upon, but a sex offender is worse than an actual leper. I would’ve gotten beat up for it, had I been labeled as such. I guess my point is “David Matthew-Strunk, a convicted felon” would have been a lot better, especially considering that I’m still fighting my case in apellate court.

I did not intentionally hurt anyone. The victim in the situation I’m in here for was a friend of mine. When the paramedics showed up I was trying to administer CPR to the victim and they had to pull me off of him. I learned CPR in a class where we train on rubber human medical dummies.

I am certified and have saved three lives with CPR, two on heroin users experiencing overdoses. It was before Narcan was available to the public. They were starting to lose color and turn blue from lack of oxygen because they quit breathing. The third was a woman experiencing a cocaine overdose. With cocaine, you have to get the person into an ice bath, because cocaine kills you by raising your body temperature dangerously high. So I got all the ice out of my freezer and put it all in a cold-water bath and put the woman in the bath, because she injected too much cocaine and went coma on me. She woke up and came out of it. And no, I’m not the one selling these people these drugs in the first place, I’m just the one bringing them back to life after someone else sold them the drugs. So, I really resent the “murderer” label.

Also, “Agenda 21” isn’t some conspiracy-nut thing that went viral on kook websites, it’s an actual set of protocols suggested at a United Nations meeting. It’s a set of “articles”, it’s a list of items. They got together and wrote up a list of items that they would like to see happen in our future society. The “Agenda 21” list is sort of like the “social credit score” system in place already in China. You may have heard already, but basically China has surveillance cameras literally everywhere, and for example, if you smoke a cigarette and then throw the butt in the street instead of extinguishing the cherry and putting the butt in your pocket for later disposal, well the camera can use facial-recognition technology to identity you, which notifies the social credit network, which can then notify your bank, which lowers your “social credit score” by 10 points.

Just a week ago I saw on the Discovery Channel that there is technology in China in which there is a screen you smile at, and if your smile isn’t “happy” enough, the computer’s security-tech won’t let you open the refrigerator in the break room at your place of employment! This is all “Agenda 21” type social engineering ideation.

I once had a copy of the actual Agenda 21. It is literally a list of proposals created by members of a council attached to the United Nations. I remember one of the articles proposed was to make seating options in public places to be functional but less comfortable so that homeless people won’t feel free to nap or sleep in the daytime in the public areas, forcing them to find approved bedding in approved homeless shelters. Keep in mind, cities big enough to have homeless shelters have a homeless population five times what the bedding space is at the shelters.

Not long after reading this thing about “uncomfortable seating options”, I noticed that a popular coffee shop in my area of Fort Collins, Colorado decided to replace the couches and the stuffed chairs surround the tables in their seating area with wooden pews, salvaged from a defunct Catholic church, and wooden straight-back chairs. Homeless people were coming into the coffee shop, purchasing a coffee, then napping for an hour or two on the couches and stuffed chairs, which probably made the yuppies, who are shop’s “target demographic” uncomfortable. Yet, these same yuppies do the same: they come in, buy a coffee and then sit on their laptop for an hour or two. What’s the difference? Both groups are spending the same amount of money. But, one demographic, the napping bums, make customers uncomfortable, and the other group, the laptop yuppies, does not.

This same coffee shop gets a 501(C)3 tax-break for being counted as a “church” because they clear the tables out and set up 40 to 50 folding chairs in the middle of the shop for the owner to do an hour-long “sermon” on Sundays. Then they put the chairs away and go back to business as usual, selling coffee tax-free. So, I guess the guy wouldn’t feel comfortable just kicking the bums out like Starbucks would, because it wouldn’t be very “Christian” of him?

The point is, this “Agenda 21” is a real thing, not just a tinfoil-hat nut-job conspiracy. It’s not law, yet, but it is being implemented by businesses and whole “test cities” like Fort Collins, Colorado. Every square inch of Fort Collins is on camera, just like in China. There’s a cable channel you can get on TV in Fort Collins that shows the cameras. It’s like a version of the TV show Cops because on this channel you can watch homeless people in alleyways stepping behind a dumpster to take a piss in private, and even before the guy gets done peeing, here comes the cops out of nowhere to catch the guy and arrest him, or at least ticket him. In Denver, if they catch you by yourself peeing behind a dumpster in an alleyway, they charge you with “public exposure”, the same charge that the trenchcoat perverts get for flashing children, then you are a lifetime “sex offender” and have to register on the sex offender website and can’t get a job or live in many places.

So, yes, things have gotten out of control with law enforcement and how homeless people get treated, and Aaron Bushnell was right to agree with me about the things I wrote. Our United States Supreme Court just decided that homeless people can be fined up to $1,000 per day and jailed for sleeping outside. These people are homeless. Where are they supposed to sleep? If they had $1,000 they most likely wouldn’t be homeless! What say you?

____________________________________

In closing, the problem with the Simon Woods of the world is, they are situated to be able to reach such a wide audience and could do a lot of good with a tool at their disposal like New York Magazine, instead of just sensationalizing people like me, people like Aaron. Or can he? He probably could’ve wrote his article in crayon and it wouldn’t matter. No one reads magazines anymore.

David-Matthew Strunk 102504
Sterling Correctional Facility
PO Box 6000
Sterling, CO 80751

Hi there! My name is Nesa Gray. Nesa being an acronym for Neon Electric Space Alien and Grey being my gender spectrum. I am a non-binary transgender and I am incarcerated in the homophobic, racist ass Texas prison system.

I would like to share with you a recent bbq I threw here. Yes, you’re probaby wondering how I did this and that’s one of the things that made it so great! During the end of Oct 2023 while at the Darrington Unit I began requesting a bra. Ok, let me clarify something before we go any further. As a non-binary transgender I don’t identify as male or female, but I do enjoy both sides of the coin. Ok, well at first when I asked laundry for a bra they claimed they knew nothing about it. I then showed them my hormone pills and a handful of my boobies and said I am a certified (in my file) transgender and I have a license to carry a bra. Lol, yes I know it almost sounds like a gun! Boobed and dangerous! Anyway this laundry guy tells me when my boobs get bigger he’ll give me a bra! GASP! That some kind of sexual harrassment, right? Yeah, I thought so too! Sexist bastard. So he moves around without any good answer, so I asked the guards working my section to get me some rank and they did. A 90 year old Sgt. when I told him I needed a bra he looked at me like I’d grown a second nose! Well, as you can tell he was no help.

So next in line was my request for PREA (Prison Rape Elimination Act) Sgt. who is over the transgender issues in prison. Word came back saying they would be coming to talk to me within the hour, well when the hour was almost over the guard came back to let me know the PREA Sgt. wouldn’t be able to make it because they were in a meeting. Well, ok then. I guess it’s time to bbq! And we’ll just have to bbq without a bra. Just then I see one more Sgt. walking through and when I tried to talk to him he just ignored me and kept walking. 

Ok then. It’s now the time we’ve all been waiting on. IT’S BBQ TIME!!! I hope you’re hungry because we’ve got all kinds of goodies! BBQ blankets, grilled sheets, roasted mattresses and sauteed clothes! A bit of tissue and paper bags on the side! Here’s how it went. My grill aka locker has a top and bottom shelf and an open area on the side that smokes real good so all the bbq items can be smoked. Well, I loaded the bottom rack with two succulent blankets, a nice tender pair of sheets, two mattress filets, a couple paper bags and a roll of tissues for appetizers! Once the flames reached the blankets all was going well. I even added a blanket on the top rack and the smoker was doing it’s thang! The smell of the bbq went all throughout the prison and so did the smoke and within the hour all sorts of people started to show up.

The guards came by, and the PREA Sgt. even left her meeting. The Sgt. that ignored me even came by and yep, he got ignored! A couple of nice girls came by who were new and wanted to know what the special occassion was. They were a bit hostile at first but when I let them know my name was Nesa and that I was a non-binary transperson we instantly became friends! One told me my name was beautiful and the other said if she ever had a daughter she wanted to name her Nesa. One person came by and let me know there were no bras here because this is a male facility. I told her I’ve had bras at every unit I’ve been to and I’ve only been to male units. Then someone else tells me they have to order them. Then someone tells me I’ll get them when I get my bra license renewed! Well, all the bbq items cooked real good and the smoker did it’s thang so good it left my cell completely black but that’s the price of having a good bbq. I still have no bra but it was a great time and I’m already planning the next one! Till next time… Ta Ta

write to Nesa:

Spencer Butler 2020566
PO Box 660400
Dallas, TX 75266