In the past “3rdparty communications” meant person (A) sending a message to me through person (B). But now CTU has re-interpreted it to mean person (A) telling me what people are saying out there, even if it’s not a message to me, or even about me. It’s a tripwire to get people blocked. That’s why the rules are kept vague and undefined. What it really boils down to is NO RULES, ONLY RULERS!!!
I’m in solitary confinement. It’s the worst solidarity I’ve been in in all my prison time. The water is making me sick. You can’t buy food or anything. You can’t have your books or a radio. The toilet doesn’t work right. It’s just an empty metal box you sit in, on a concrete bed. It’s brutal. It’s an environmentally induced coma. I wouldn’t be able to look at myself in the mirror if I made a chicken live in these conditions, much less a human being.
Supposedly the reason I’m in here is because people kept calling and writing the prison concerned about my safety. So they threw me in this crap hole to keep me safe.
PEOPLE NEED TO NOT PESTER THE PRISON. Doing so only makes my life worse hell. I could be stuck in the hole for weeks or years now.
BUT, pestering Donald Trump, that’s totally different. He actually has the power to let me go. So call and write to him all day long. That might actually help.
As you know, Larry Klayman is going to ask Trump to pardon me. Will you get Larry all the notarized letters to go with the pardon petition? He just needs to see them and read them over to help him craft his 90 second verbal pitch for Trump. Those letters will give him a lot of ammo.
The Fairbanks News article put me in some high-powered company. My name was right there with some big time national figures. I guess times are changing, and tides are turning. Larry Klayman is good.
The two biggest things people can do to hep me: Donate to my defense fund and contact Donald Trump about me. Of course, encouraging letters to me are nice also. I’m really in trench warfare right now.
You need to point out to Larry Klayman how they used the same tactics on me as they did to Jerome Corsi. Dear God I hope this house of cards is about to fall. I’ve been buried so long and so deep, a breath of relief would be nice.
Solitary Housing Unit or “SHU” is what they call this little box I’m in. It’s claustrophobically small. I can reach out in any direction and touch the wall. It’s about the same size as a small dumpster and with its metal walls, loud rusty door and sour smell it really feels like I ‘ve been tossed in the garbage bin to snuff out slowly. Deb, please make sure people quit pestering the prison about “My Safety.” I can’t stand this hole they put me in. It’s soul crushing.