And did
DRS, the psychopath, provide one shred of evidence for anything? No,
because she knows perfectly well the truth will end her game FOREVER.
As I write
this I can hear her ranting downstairs. Her foul language would make
a stevedore blanch.
Oh, if she
could only talk, right? Let her. Every time she opens her mouth she
commits slander. When she writes, she commits libel. The woman,
literally, cannot tell the truth.
And let's
get some answers about the Family Campground and how she spends the
money handed over to her discretion by RMN Readers.
I spend my
time working at my computer for solutions and the means to direct
these into the mainstream. It is frustrating when what needs to
happen is so close to the tipping point I can taste it even as the
dangers we face continue to mount.
The
corporate centralization of power through the conversion of
government to their private control is destroying our world. If you
read alternative sources at all you know this.
It happened
slowly over generations but we are now living in the end game.
Those of us
who care about providing real solutions for a world now poised on the
edge of disaster in every imaginable way should consider what role
DRS could possibly have with her focus on trinkets and moving piles
of her hoarding from one place to another. If I had known what she
is really like I would not have come out here.
I just
spend two hours on the phone with a physicist who worked on the
linear accelerator project. Now he is moving toward materials
technology which will allow us to build homes, businesses, and
infrastructure which will still be standing in a thousand years. We
have it. MIT tested it and projected a longevity of 16,000 years.
We just
need to get it to market past the resistance of building inspectors
and contractors who are not hot for innovation.
The time
for talking is over. If we are to survive we need to build out the
exit from the grids which are enslaving us.
I came here
because she told me RMN, with its readership, could make it possible
for me to do what I have been working on for ten years. We need an
informational hub, one where people get real alternatives outside the
control of the Corporate Controllers who, today, are bleeding us dry.
The technologies are there, they are mature, and it is essential
that steps be taken to main stream these.
In places
around the US today people are getting off the grid, cutting the
power into their homes because solar has finally made this possible.
I regularly
talk to some of the people who are actually doing this. One new
solar business for whom I provide ideas and connections is well
thought out, affordable, and they have thoroughly researched how
homeowners can fund their purchase and get it paid off in a
reasonable period of time. No grid ties there. Off completely.
This is no
pie in the sky operation, is up, working and selling. They have a
fist full of orders and need to move so they keep their momentum.
They need a bridge loan to ramp up to the next level.
They are
willing to accept a funder who wants an equity position if it is a
good fit.
I do a lot
more thinking about building out the present stubbled path to a real
off grid world than I spend thinking about DRS, rest assured. The
grid goes a lot farther than energy. Think building materials which
last for generations, food which is local and organic, localizing
commerce and jobs which return people to the dignity of working for
themselves, for their families and their communities.
I came out
here because I thought RMN was a resource for this. Certainly that
is what DRS told me she wanted to do. As I realized how little her
words meant I felt rage. And I had more than one reason for this.
I have a
disabled son who will always need care. Rayelan told me she loved my
son and wanted to be a second mother to him. She told me she would
take care of him if anything happened to me. My worst nightmare is
having him left with no one.
Rayelan
knew just how to seduce me – and the reality on this was enough to
make me vomit.
I thought
she cared about him. He is a little shy, quiet, and spends most of
his time with his aging, cranky, cat. But when we first arrived she
was nice to him and insisted, against my wishes, to give him small
amounts of money. She told him she was his Godmother, that she loved
him like a mother.
She set a
bowl out for him at the front door and told him to take some money
when he went for a walk. This was not lavish, at most some change or
a dollar. Then, a few months later she told me to tell him to stop
asking her for money. He never had, just taken what she offered.
It was an
ugly slap in the face and he was hurt. I was stunned.
But it only
got worse. I'm going to share an incident with you which was
witnessed by multiple people here. I can provide testimony from
people at the YMCA, who went through this with me, with people at
church, and others.
I have been
using the Y here since I arrived. In January of 2013 I took my son
with me so he could work out while I was in a one hour class. He was
to meet me immediately afterward. The day was not too cold when we
arrived at the Y. But a storm was on its way.
When I
walked out of my class I could not find him. I started looking,
calling his cell phone. It did not take long before the entire Y was
looking for him. Outside, the snow was coming down in sheets, nearly
horizontal. Panicking, I got in my car and started looking for him.
The snow was building up so fast he could have died of exposure.
Hoping he was home I drove by there. I ran in to tell Rayelan what
was happening. She looked and me and said, this is an exact quote.
“I care about my dogs.”
Stunned, I
stared at her for a second and then ran out to get back in my car and
continue looking. I called the Y. Then, I got my son on his cell
phone. You need to know he is entirely blind in one eye and 70%
blind in the other. His mobility is limited. He needs a cane to
walk. I was shaking as I tried to drive. Arriving at where he said
he was I could not find him. Parking, I got out of the car and was
almost blown away by the storm.
I dialed,
and dialed and dialed, crying and the tears freezing on my face.
After three
hours I found him, huddled in a fast food restaurant, soaked and
shivering.
When I
walked in Rayelan showed no sign of even asking what had happened.
The
receptionist at the Y remembers. We still talk about it. My friends
at church remember because I called them, looking for people to help
me find him.
Is Rayelan
a psychopath? Yes, she is. Calloused unconcern should be her middle
name.
And as soon
as I can get out of here I will take effective action to ensure Rayelan does not do to another person what she has done to me and my son. While she is already in my present book Psychopaths - A Guide to Survival, there will be more.
I do not trust her as far as I can throw her, which believe me would be no distance at all.
I do not trust her as far as I can throw her, which believe me would be no distance at all.
Many things
about this world need to change. Dealing with the psychopaths is
high on my list, along with getting off the grids.