stage. Sometimes it was a debate between fellow robots on political issues but I wasn't trained like they were — I was trained only to deliver. Many others were adroit at debating, but I wasn't. So I'd go up on stage, deliver my pre-programmed speech, everyone would clap and later Henry would say I did a great job. But I had to have on my speaking dress, and no matter what I was really wearing, it became 'my speaking dress.' If he was present, Henry commented before I went on, 'My, you look lovely in your speaking dress,' and then my speech would be internally engaged and I'd be ready to deliver. I performed in these ways for many 'show your latest technology in robots' shows. After I passed those, I got to move on to more diplomatic matters.
Henry used me to warm up groups that his constituency was going to speak to and I often wore several different disguises and always looked different. Henry was the puppeteer and I was his puppet and at anytime he wished, he could pull my strings and make me change into a different puppet, with a different face with which to meet the public. And like Mr. Potatohead, he could order what kind of face he wanted me to put on. 'Squint your eyes a bit, curl up the ends of your mouth, flair your nostrils, pull your jaw forward'…all sorts of different facial mannerisms and contortions that I was programmed to perform, combined with wigs, glasses, body padding, hats, etc. It was all quite effective as I played my role creating different faces to present to the public. Not many people know about this technology yet and Henry said we had a definite edge on the others. He said that it was always important for us to strive to reach greater and greater knowledge and awareness, to stay ahead of the pack in being the first, the best, and the brightest in our latest endeavors. He was constantly experimenting with me and adding things like archival information and classified documents, in order to have the latest information to draw from.
Henry said, 'You're the leader of the pack in this diplomatic endeavor and as such we will continue to update your system in order to insure that you stay 'the leader of the pack.' In a hypnotic session, he said to me, 'Each and every time you hear the song, 'Leader of the Pack,' on the radio, you will think of the motorcycle bikers only and will remain in the dark otherwise.' The word «dark» was internally linked in my system to all sorts of ritual horrors and terrors, thereby plunging this information that was subliminally linked to it deeply into the recesses of my subconscious mind. I could not consciously retrieve it; yet it ruled my actions. In this way the ritual tortures that I had endured as a child and as a young adult at my church were linked to these other memories. They tied the ritual trauma to these memories by saying, 'If you begin to recall such and such, you will immediately recall the ritual, and they would go into great detail to remind me of the tortures that happened at those rituals. They used the ritual tortures on and off at strategic, necessary times to either bring to the forefront an old group of personalities, or to create a new group. A traumatic ritual could effectively create a whole new group of alternate personalities, since it was such an extensive trauma. Henry often spoke to his colleagues on this subject, advising them when and where to use trauma. Henry consulted with other men who needed guidance as to how to create and maintain a robot or group of them, as in Bob Hope's case.
Bob had a whole group within me, eight personalities at one time, but Henry advised him to cut it down to four because he said he couldn't effectively maintain that many until the level of technology rose, allowing for more of the programming and maintenance to be performed by machine rather than by man. Henry said my prototype was not new but was highly expanded and more technical and he was building on an older model of a sex robot and mind computer prototype, combining them within me in hopes of expanding technologies and coming up with a more versatile workable model. He actually viewed me as a machine.
Dr. Olmstead, our principal, gave me orders in his office. When he did I would go into robotic receiving mode and record all the data he gave me. I transferred what was appropriate to my blue inner calendar and filed the rest of the information into the suggested files for use at the correct time. My Student Government (Student Council) teacher, Saul Rowen, would drive me, to catch a plane or, more often, to a helicopter port where I was then transported to a government approved shuttle plane to Washington, DC or New York. Usually I was taken to Nixon for sex and to straighten out his often dour attitude and then to Henry and the research team for further instruction.
Back home Dr. Stoddard prescribed a continuous supply of the antibiotic Tetracycline. He said I had to take the medication so I would not have pimples. I never was able to question this at the time, could not think to, but realized later on, as I healed and integrated, that I never suffered from any type of acne and must have been given this antibiotic to insure I did not infect the government leaders with any 'social diseases.' He also prescribed mood elevators and mild tranquilizers for me during times when I was extremely depressed as a teenager. These helped to keep me 'happy.' During the times I was being used by others, they utilized personalities that were cheerful and energetic, so my moods were never a problem. Dr. Stoddard also gave my father shots of testosterone to boost his sexual desire.
Looking back, my high school years had a very unreal feeling to them. I didn't eat much in those days, in obeisance with programming, and was very thin like the popular model of the time, Twiggy. I had programs in place that guaranteed that my physical body would maintain a perfect size 6, or less, and usually in those days I wore a size 2 or 4. If I ate very much I became nauseated and could eat no more. When I went for a few days without eating while I was on assignment, my stomach shrank and so it was difficult to eat much, plus I would often be very sick and shaking from the high voltage I was subjected to. My mother often got into my twin bed next to me and held and rubbed me to get my body to calm down. She also kept saying, 'You're home honey, you're home.' My body often convulsed and I had dry heaves but after I slept I was usually better.
Ken Golliher was a nuclear physicist and a Mason who was respected as 'the brains' behind a lot of scientific plans or inventions while employed at Rocketdyne in the Woodland Hills area. He worked with Ellsworth Ford, Craig's father, who was plant engineer, and Mary, the women I've previously mentioned, our neighbor who for many years was my 'second mother. Ken's daughter Shelly was a member of the young women's Masonic organization, Job's Daughters, and attended the same school as Craig. Through their friendship I came to know her.
But it wasn't until some twenty-five years later that I began remembering Ken Golliher, adorned with a white lab coat, white hard hat and goggles, waving me through the security guard at the front guard gate at Rocketdyne. From his lab coat pocket hung a plastic badge with his picture and other information on it. I don't know what he told them to gain entrance for me, maybe that I was his daughter or something. Anyway, they let me through the security gate driving my family's old 57 Chevy. I must have been around sixteen years old.
Once inside the building, Ken showed me the monkeys in a cage and one monkey was sitting in a chair with its little head screwed into a metal framework that wrapped around his skull. Ken told me it didn't hurt the monkey at all. Before I knew it, I was strapped into a chair, with electrodes positioned on my head. They told me that I was strapped in so I wouldn't move around. Ken was an excellent photographer and before me was a slide screen. At first I was shown slides of nature scenes like flowers with bees on them and then they began flashing technical slides with pictures of moon landings, instrumentation information, satellite diagrams, craft designs, mathematical equations and all sorts of technical information. There were slides of page after page of numbers, formulas and diagrams of assembly information for certain projects. One picture was of a mechanical chair that a robot-I mean astronaut-could maneuver around on the moon. It's possible that some of the astronauts are human robots, because I saw the formulas for programming them so they could be controlled from earth and scientists would never have to rely on the astronauts human emotions' or human errors in thinking. I saw a whole set of plans for training and conditioning an astronaut.
The United States actually sent many more people and animals onto the moon and to other planets than they let be known to the American public. They were experimenting with all types of life forces on the moon and didn't announce many of their experiments, or findings. The ones that were made public were strictly to control the feelings and beliefs of the American people. Unscrupulous scientists sent «indigents» as they called them, to the moon and other planets, and they usually didn't return …or if they did they tested them to see what killed them. So great was the desire to explore other planets to beat the Russians, or to quench the curiosity of some totally left brain scientists, that they didn't care who they killed or hurt to get the desired results.
They were doing initial research and used mind-controlled slaves to explore the possibility that humans could live in outer space — on space stations and other planets. This was done in preparation for the elite families to have a place to go should the need arise.
Even back in the late 60's they had tracking stations on the moon that were highly sophisticated, and used to measure many things. Somehow they were even able to monitor the 'feelings' of a population. They monitored the earth from the moon much more than they monitored the other planets. This monitoring system was set in place
