Comrade not eager to read about ritual child abuse. Oh, I get it, but try going THROUGH it!

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I sent a good friend a link to this horrifying book online:,%20A%20Survivor’s%20Story%20of%20Mind%20Control_djvu.txt

I have verified dozens of specific details in the movie.

One, for example, is that ritual child abuse and murder took place when this place “Stokesay Castle,” near Kathleen’s hometown of Reading, Pennsylvania, was not being used as a restaurant. (Kathleen says that kids and babies were ritually murdered in the basement, and she herself was forced to lie on a huge plastic bag full of rotting white baby corpses. Satanists love to do sadistic things, to invent ever more twisted things, and to use trauma to split off multiple personalities in the child victim so they can create an assassin or other kind of agent.)


Can I prove that ritual murders happened there? Of course, not, but there is indeed a Stokesay Castle as she said.

There IS an insurance company called “Maryland Casualty Company,” as she says.

Barry Gilway was the CEO (seated), and maybe is not sinister at all, though for an insurance executive (he is now with Zurich Commercial Insurance, a reinsurer) he sure has a physique like the Terminator.

Kathleen says it was one of several insurance companies where she worked when not being sent on assassination assignments.

These companies were full of CIA of the worst sort, she claims, and such work — pure paperwork, as my dad used to say with appreciation in his voice — was their “cover.”

Low-key, low-profile, no warehouses, no tangible product, easy to move (just rent office space and put in desks somewhere else) and “no hammer dropping on your foot,” as my dad would say.

What was chilling to me is that all of these details dovetail exactly with my own experience.

She says that MK-Ultra kids frequently have this in common:

–military officer fathers (check — mine was a lieutenant colonel in the Marines; Duke’s was an Army colonel — see

–they become members of cults, which are staffed by CIA  and drill obedience into members (check; she was with a Christian cult in Waukegan, Wisconsin; for me it was Jehovah’s Witnesses, 1970-75.


I worked at their world headquarters and sat at the head table with the president, Nathan Knorr. They owned all these properties in Brooklyn Heights and I was there just as the World Trade Center was being finished in 1974-75.

I realized it was a cult after talking to two of the top people in this multi-million-member religion, both of whom, especially Frederick Franz, the successor to Knorr, acted guilty and evasive to me when I asked some hard questions, and confessed I was plagued with serious doubts about “just everything.”

From 1942-2000 all the JW presidents were white Americans of German ancestry: Knorr (,  Franz (photo), Henschel (, etc. and quietly efficient. I knocked on Fred Franz’s apartment door on the top floor of the main building during my night watchman duty, because I was in real spiritual anguish.  

Franz just said “Go see your local overseer.” I replied: “I don’t think the local overseers can answer my questions.” He just closed the door. I felt for sure, by his body language, that he was hiding something.)

The JW headquarters at 124 Columbia Heights. It recently sold for $105 million as the Witnesses gradually close their New York City facilities for upstate New York. I always wondered during my membeship 1970-75 how on earth an overwhelmingly working-class religion could afford such huge buildings in prime New York real estate areas….


–the MKs’ cover work is with insurance companies (check; my father had Davis, Bateman & Nugent insurance brokerage in Providence, Rhode Island, up in this building)

It would strike me how my dad would go away, over and over, to “insurance seminars” held in Hartford, Connecticut, a center of the American insurance industry and a 90-minute drive westward from Providence.

There were, of course, such seminars, which makes them the perfect “cover,” but I am not so sure that was all he did there.

Reagan asked him twice to serve on the National Security Council.

Now what Kathleen did while away from her desk with the flu was kill people by stabbing, shooting or poisoning them!

(Especially poison on a doorknob in the home of the victim, on their toothbrush or via a pinprick. An Australian comrade and activist told me a story of how at 40 he had a massive heart attack in the pink of health right after after a complete stranger at an anti-immigration rally approached him, unsmilingly, and for no obvious reason reached out and shook his hand vigorously. He told me this story in Pittsburgh in 1989.)

Now, after prayer, I have decided to reveal something, and it will show that my father himself was, IMO, a victim as well as a perpetrator — a killer and a torturer.

And I try to forgive him, and I do, because he felt intense shame, and had to drink heavily to try to forget what happened and what he apparently did.

As I have written, one Christmas down at his Florida villa I sat there on that very couch seen in this photo:

And I was, as usual, reading something.  😉

I felt something and looked up, and I saw my father gazing at me with SORROW in his eyes, and then he cast them down. His eyes just dropped when they met mine. It was that downcast look, and actually I saw it a few times, that meant I would forever be able to forgive him for whatever he too was sucked into, maybe by his own father, Henry Norman Nugent?

(He was built like an ox, with a chest and ribcage that I inherited from him,  and was, among other things such as a saxophonist, the constable of northwestern Rhode Island. He once cleared out a bar with just a stick in his hand, taking two drunks to the hospital in the back of his own car.)

I assume it was dreadful, because I felt dread around him. 

In the year 2000, I got a call from my stepmother, Helen Horne Nugent, a very nice and pretty Canadian lady from a very good family on Prince Edward Island.

That is she next to my father, with the white hair, of course. I am behind her, in the back row. Margi is on the right, and my daughter Ingrid is seated next to her, behind the dog.  

That is she also in this photo, far right, and her face is partly cut off, as Henry Kissinger takes a photo of a little girl.

I felt a dread of my father that I could never explain. It went way beyond my normal respect for him as a good boy that obeys his father and, incidentally, the very successful breadwinner of the family, in fact, a self-made millionaire and the then youngest-ever president of an American Rotary Club in 1962, when he was just 35. There was something terrifying about James Waddell Nugent that I could not put my finger on.

So, as I said, Helen called me, her stepson, one night and said, nervously, that my father had been threatening her and himself, saying he would kill first her and himself, and muttered “Why don’t I just kill you?”

And she said that just before that he had pulled his .38 pistol out on a motorist after a traffic dispute, and the police had come and confiscated his handgun, the one with five notches (kills) on the wooden handle from combat in the trenches during the Korean War.

I was shocked, of course, and asked her more questions. She said he had calmed down. The basic view was forgiving — that he suffered from PTSD from the Korean War and WWII.

Half his officer class was killed or wounded in Korea. Marines saw horribly mutilated Marines whom the North Koreans had captured, castrated, blinded, and crucified. And the cold, right next to Siberia, was intense. My father hated the cold and mountains, and moved to hot, flat Florida as soon as he retired,

Korean War Memorial in Washington DC. Btw, an old man contacted me to say that he served under my father, who was an excellent officer, firm but friendly and fair. 


Well, after this died down, seemingly…..

I got a call from my father, from Vero Beach, Florida, where he and Helen lived in a gated community, Seagrove, right off the ocean.


I and he in 1990.

It was an astounding phone call because my father always had great self-control and dignity, and never, ever made a fool of himself. Nor did he this time, but he sure was completely sloshed. 😉 And I never had gotten a call from him when drunk before.

When I saw him talk with other businessmen, or just ordinary people in Rhode Island, who always called him “Mr. Nugent” (none of this “Jim” stuff), I could see how much they respected him. He carried himself like natural royalty (our ancestors were aristocrats), and people just instinctively treated him that way, as MR. NUGENT.

(This is a part of his resumé:

Anyway, he said to me, as I recall the conversation 16 years ago, something like this:

“John…………I am going to tell you about the Philippines, and about Borneo….. [where he fought the Japanese in the Marines in WWII].

I am going … to tell you….and then… you will UNDERSTAND. Then you will truly UNDERSTAND!

(I just replied with encouraging little words like “okay” because I felt compassion for him and knew he was trying to unburden himself of something.)

“….But not tonight.”


I was stunned.

He had alluded previously to how the “Japs” had committed terrible atrocities on captured Marines.  In both the movie “The Thin Red Line” (with Nick Nolte, Sean Penn and Jim Caviezel)

….and in the HBO series “The Pacific” (a Tom Hanks/Steven Spielberg production) there are brief scenes where American soldiers or Marines out on patrol come upon the mutilated bodies of their dead countrymen — legs chopped off, eyes gouged out, castrated, etc.

The dead Marine in the center, mostly obscured by darkness, had been tied to a tree, his hands chopped off, and was horribly mutilated up and down. A Marine squad is ordered to walk past and see what happened to their brother.

Around 2003, my father called me again and decided to tell me more, and it is found further below.

I had already gone on to therapy for still totally repressed horrors, including nightmares where I woke up shrieking (a parallel to the Kathleen Sullivan story), and suffered from a terrible lack of self-esteem.

Incredibly, I felt I was the ugliest man on earth,

…a total loser, and, this is really bizarre, I did not know my eyes were blue, as if someone had ordered me to not see this as a kind of Manchurian Candidate test of total mental obedience.

I will never forget the day in 1990 a portrait photographer mentioned my blue eyes, and I was mystified. “What do you mean, my eyes are blue?” He was just as mystified right back 😉  and said “Of course they are blue. Umm, unhh, what …color…. do you see your eyes as?”   

In the Manchurian Candidate program, the ultimate test of total obedience is to be ordered to kill a friend, who stands there just as obediently — while you actually kill him.

In the original film also, one soldier obediently strangles his unresisting fellow soldier. Notice the victim’s hands are still down by his side. Note also that the other soldiers do absolutely nothing.


But obedience is not just doing as ordered, but also believing as ordered. I believed I was especially ugly, and that I had grayish-brown eyes (an eye color that does not even exist 😉 ).

Now that is true mind control.

Going back to what my father then revealed, in 2003, he said this:

“A Marine officer came around [this was on the island of Borneo or in the Philippines] and said he wanted volunteers for a raid on the Japanese. This would be totally off the books, he says, to get the Japs for what they did to our men.

And he said some of the men involved on the mission were murderers from Death Row at Sing Sing [the infamous New York State maximum-security prison], that were let out and brought in just for this mission. It will never be recorded what happens on this mission.”

Clearly, this was some sort of tit-for-tat torture and atrocity mission – to capture some Japanese soldiers and do-unto-them-as-they-did-unto-us.

The Sing Sing part was what alarmed me the most….a collaboration between the US Marine Corps and convicted murderers on Death Row?

I have mentioned the movie One Hour Photo, an 2002 indie film starring Robin Williams.

Here is the final scene, where “Sy” is being interrogated by a police officer (the black actor Erik LaSalle) about an event where (spoiler alert) he bizarrely had gone about terrifying an adulterous husband and his mistress for the man ruining his previously ideal family life.

Something, no, several things, about this movie triggered some absolutely huge and radical upheaval inside me. Partly it was Sy’s appearance, which was northern-European, like mine.

Partly it was what he blurted out, which revealed nothing about his crime and everything about his childhood.

After this movie, which I took in at the Regal Cinema in the Back Bay of Boston, I walked outside, in the dead of winter, with no parka on, in subfreezing temperatures, and just bathing in my own body heat.

It was like a furnace roasting inside me, radiating out of every pore a perspiration that soaked through my undershirt, flannel shirt, pants, socks, face and scalp and froze on my skin.


As I stated in an earlier blog, the “clincher” was then the walk on Winthrop beach.


It was a gorgeous, windy day, the kind I, as a native New Englander, really love — salt air, seagulls cawing, the smell of seaweed, the roar of the waves, shells of clams and blue-silvery mussels all over the sand….
I had just read a huge, two page report in the Boston Globe about a teenage boy whom the defrocked Catholic priest John Geoghan, with the full connivance of Bernard Cardinal Law, had molested, one of one hundred thirty boys.
The poor kid, a gullible, trusting altar boy, had hanged himself after the Catholic church had mercilessly harassed and defamed the entire family — who told only the horrible truth — claiming they were vicious, wicked frauds, defaming a fine man of God, and seeking only to get rich quick off the Holy Mother Church.
I felt an immediate need to stand up and go for a walk.
My house (I rented the middle floor of the beige structure) was right on the water.
I walked along the beach, and….
….began sobbing ……………..totally out of the blue.
It was shocking to start sobbing on that beautiful beach while I was superficially happy, and just not know why.
(Or rather, after seeing “One Hour Photo,” maybe I DID know why, but still refused to completely face it. But how could I have been abused? I was from a proper, respected family! Who would dare molest the son of a big businessman and Marine combat officer with five notches for five kills just on his pistol?)
The revolver my dad kept from Korea until 2000 was a Smith & Wesson .38- caliber “Detective Special” like this one, but with five knife notches carved into the wooden handle for the Chinese soldiers he had killed with it, and it was very, reliable. My father, as a Marine officer and other officers in Korea simply did not trust the US Army .45 1911 pistol which they were issued in the same way. In trench warfare he also used a shotgun.
My diaphragm contracted upward and I sobbed again, with no thought attached, no word, no images, no nothing.
To my horror, I realized that a P-A-R-T of me, an unknown PART of me, was screaming out to the other parts of me! Like a person imprisoned in the basement for torture calling out desperately to those oblivious people upstairs….
Help me! Believe me! You go about your business, but I never stop reliving this!” 
This was some part of me I did not understand, the one that at night was  resurfacing in the nightmares!
Winthrop on Massachusetts Bay, with the skyline of Boston in the background
THAT is beyond MK, that is Manchurian Candidate, where you CANNOT remember ANYTHING except a vague feeling of horror. My first therapist, a UC Berkeley PhD, told me after I began screaming during a regression, that I was “the worst case” she had “ever seen.”
It was absolutely impossible to get me to revisit, in any manner, detached or otherwise, not even under expert psychotherapeutic guidance, what they did to try in vain to break me.
Satanists love raping and killing white children, and especially blond boys.
A vile Jewess named Greenberg paints crying blond children; there was a furor with people asking how exactly she got these kids to cry so convincingly.
Yeah, torture and kill those Aryan kids.
Kathleen Sullivan as an adult today
I had so many horrific nightmares, until age 49, and I had moved away and back to Rhode island, and then I finally, finally, finally had the courage to call the United Way of Rhode Island Sexual Abuse hotline.
The worst part of this Sullivan book is relating how Kathleen was forced to kill the only thing that made her life brighter, her own little baby, named Rose. 🙁
The male fiends give the MK victim mother only these choices:
1) “Either you kill your own baby with this knife,”
2) “I will torture it first as you watch, and then I will kill it.”
So to spare her baby suffering, she tok the knife and cut her own child’s carotid artery — swiftly and, under the circumstances, “mercifully.”
(The purpose of all this murder, rape and torture of females by men is to make her hate men, and be able to kill men as an assassin. The CIA uses women, often posing as call girls or just street prostitutes, as hitwomen in cases where a big, burly, male assassin with a crew haircut would be too obvious to bodyguards.)

I can honestly say that only spiritual detachment from “John de Nugent” as not me, but one chapter of me, one learning episode, and NOT the eternal me, this concept and grasp that all this was in the end Not-Me, this alone is what SAVED me.

And this is the spiritual and reincarnational approach.

No one life is who I am. No child fainting from fear is who I am. (I have fainted three times as an adult, once during a physical and twice during anatomy lectures at Georgetown, and awoke each time wringing wet with perspiration.)

No man is who I am. I am a soul. You are a soul, and Margi, and Alexander the Great, and Robin Williams  — we are eternal beings a-learning, and everyone, everyone, even a Jew satanist, is either my friend or he is my teacher. The Jews have taught me that there is absolute evil.

And all I can say after that is: Judaea delenda est.

And now you know why the jews hate and fear me especially. It is with me not just ideological. It is also so very, very personal. Never will I relent.


MY 2011 discovery that the longitude and latitude of Jerusalem add up to exactly 666. 



Alas, unless you read Unshackled, you will have no idea how bad it gets.

And this is not restricted just to America.

A British comrade told me some hair-raising things about his own father, a common thug who killed for MI-5. He told me his father made him watch videos he had made of himself torturing prisoners, tied to an upright mattress frame ,and cutting their limbs off with a chain saw as they screamed.

I will not provide further details except to say the father is living now on the Continent in peace and plenty.

And this WN told me that his father told him that MI-5 did the Manchester bombing, not the IRA, in order to blame the IRA — a false flag attack.

And his hitman father was involved in procuring the Semtex explosive.

It caused, in today’s money, two billion dollars in damage.

The perpetrators of the attack have not been caught, and Greater Manchester Police have conceded it is unlikely that anyone will be charged in connection with the bombing.[6]

The rented Ford truck was packed to the gills with high explosives and created a 23-story-high mushroom cloud.

Good job, MI-5! You got the British and Irish goyim hating each other anew, instead of the Jews who cause both nations endless misery. 200 Britons were injured.


Some say I should not talk about these sorts of things, and they make me look bad, or dangerous.

Well, I really doubt I killed anyone by age ten ;-), when I ran away and the program ended for me.

But when I do reveal these things, others contact me and confirm with their own stories what I have experienced myself.

A good friend and supporter wrote me some new Richard Spencer information and added this on the whole MK thing:


Good afternoon, John,

I’m not ready to read Kathleen Sullivan’s story at this time.  I get the gist of how vile the creatures are that torture kids and engage in trauma-based mind control, and at this time I really don’t want to get into the details of what they do.

It really is amazing that our government funds and creates this evil.  If WW2 had gone differently, none of this stuff would have ever happened.

What gets me is why this might have happened to you, other than your dad being well connected, but not well-connected enough to keep this from happening. 

I know you seemed to have hinted that it might be part of a punishment or karma because of what happened in your last life, but I don’t see how that would be possible, even with a “tough-love” God. 

It’s possible (((they)))  somehow knew who you were, and acted because of that, but I can’t see it as being because of the outcome of the war. 

What could someone possibly learn by enduring torture as a child?  ß-Rhetorical question.


I replied:

First, I used your observation about Richard Spencer with Laura Bush:

Another fag-voiced Richard Spencer interview; Spencer an MK-Ultra? – John de Nugent

Btw, they are cloaking my comment underneath the Sinead video on Spencer.

How To Take Down Controlled Opposition Shills – Richard Spencer

It is systematic cloaking. They have an algorithm on me.. anything WN-related, they cloak me, but not the pro-Spencer trolls and the ones who abuse me over a later comment. This is what I see! But no one else does. I can post a comment on a cat video and then everyone will see it! 😉

My comment is at the TOP, and yet there are NO comments: no likes or dislikes.

TURN-OFF TOPIC. Well, you raise some good issues here, as usual, comrade, so I will address them and then, again as so often, will add it all in edited form to the blog or as a comment.

It so happens that I was just talking with Margi about this horrific MK and Manchurian thing, and no one on this earth knows me better than she does, and since, yes, April 20, 2005, when I met her and resumed work for our Cause after a four-year hiatus, weary of trying to enlighten the zombies. *;) winking.

Even with her, yea, verily, with everyone, the horror filter about ritual child abuse goes up real, REAL fast. *;) winking No one wants to hear it, read it, or think about it.


Especially atrocities against cute little kids….. the anal rape of kids, kids forced to kill other kids or babies to survive — oh, yeah, it is bleahhhh, yep, mega-bleahh.

No, a lot more than mega-bleahhh. It is hands-over-the ears, running-out-of-the-room, “I don’t want to hear this! I get it, John, I GET it! I just don’t need to hear all the gory details!”

(My selfish reaction might be “So you don’t want to hear it. Well, how about going through it!?)

But why should I ask anyone to want to contemplate the uplifting equivalent of studying, with a magnifying glass, a steaming plate of huge human turds?

…..which is what the jews are….

You get rid of the Jews like you wipe your ass. It is basic hygiene. 

The whole thing with the kids, how our kids, OUR kids, are involved, this is sooo distasteful,.and that is what is cunning and diabolical…

The abuse  goes on – exactly and precisely — because it is tooooo nauseating to contemplate. We turn away.

Like seeing a run-over cat on the street.

But the rape and death of our innocent kids, or the turning of them into assassins, is way beyond some squished cat. It is tooo repellent for the whole world: for you, for me, for Margi, for everyone.

This part might or might not go into the blog…. Whenever I see any human being being dragged in any way, even a motorcyclist wiping out and sliding in his leather suit across the pavement…. I feel a horror inside me. What is it about being DRAGGED that fills me, John de Nugent, with terror?

Being dragged by the ankles on my butt…..  It is something that I do not dread emotionally, because I am shut down about this….but my body is what reacts. My body dreads, my pupils dilate, something in my body remembers.  

I do thank you, Almighty God!

I do thank You, You and Your angels, that I do not know, nor do I wish to ever know any details. 

By running away at ten, unlike the other kids, I know that I ENDED their use of my body and their rape of my soul. 

And I began with the help of God to rebuild my life. But until I  faced the horror at 49, the healing was just at a snail’s pace.

I had the most violent nightmares you can imagine until I FACED the HORROR. 

Think, now, about how ritual child abuse is “in a league of its own.”

WNs will read entire books about 9/11, and watch videos of people jumping out of the 86th floor of the WTC….


….watch dozens of Colin Flaherty black-on-white crime story videos

…read about bolshevik, gulag and Red Army atrocities,

…inform themselves regarding South African farm murder stories,

…and Israeli organ harvesting stories…..

..and the firebombing of Dresden and the hot pools of melted human fat

NONE of that bothers them even one tenth as much as what the Jews do gleefully to helpless little white kids in their dungeons.

When I tried to go through these things with my first therapist, the Berkeley PhD, you know what?

I began (get this) YAWNING — yawning violently, compulsively.

Huge yawns.

Hunh? Was I actually bored? *;) winking

She said:

“That is when you dissociate and leave your base personality. 

You abandon the one suffering child, who is about to undergo horrors, and you become another, an additional child.

That is when your personalities multiply, and you let the one continue to suffer, it always suffers, it suffers 24/7/365 every day of your life, and it does so in order to allow the others to function more or less normally in society.

And so no one suspects what was done to you, not even you yourself.

And that is the whole goal, so that no one knows what they did to you, you don’t know what they did to you, and you have no memory what the training was for.”

Back to the issue of the horror filter.

Does the world “wanna” hear all this ?

To learn the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, this must become a new sacrament.

We must face the horror so that WE ACT.

The rivers of tears of white children must become the rivers of the satanists’ blood.

Facing the full truth must be regarded as just as brave as signing up in full awareness of the pain ahead with the Marines, or worse, going into Navy SEAL training.

It is the same category of heroism as the US Coast Guard going out in a gale to rescue fishermen in distress. It has to be done.


The person we ask to face the full horror has to know that the gods reward them for being able to handle the truth. It is not masochism but as Christ said, the truth shall set You FREE.

It is not about mentally this yeah-I-get-it, yeah-I-get-it. Because, really, people don’t.

My website was in agony for 102 days straight;  it had 4,000 viewers daily on September 11, 2016.

Now it is 1,200 on January 4, 2017, a decline of more than two-thirds.

About seven people sent funds — one of them being, repeatedly, you!  *:) happy

These readers KNEW my blog is taken very seriously by the FBI, sheriff and state police, yes, even the White House was breathing down my neck.

I actually recorded and published the voicemail from the sheriff!

John de Nugent AGAIN contacted by Sheriff w FBI request to ”ask questions” 13 Dec 2016

They KNEW that both Russian state television and twice Alex Jones showed my site for 13 seconds as Russian President Vladimir Putin’s way to warn Trump clearly, and specifically, that it would be JEWS who would try to kill him.

And just 7 out of 4,000 people send funds.

They just scratched their balls while my site was in flames, quivering and dying.

I have no compunction whatsoever now about grabbing people by the lapels and shaking them HARD.

They watched my site die just as selfishly as they watch little white children die, screaming little voices in agony.

As they watch the Boers die.

As they watch Ukrainian and Russian girls be raped in Tel Aviv bordellos.

As they watch white children be given vaccines to cause them to have autism.

What I was, frankly, proud of in my April 20, 2015 video on VIP pedophiles was that I added so much humor and action to it that people actually loved the video, and it had 53,000 views, though it is really about incredibly POWERFUL child molesters at the highest levels of the Power Structure, not village priests or the local pervs.

(How I HATE to hear that verb “diddle” as in “he diddled little boys.” There is no place for a cutesy or humorous word for f-g a boy up the ass. The only acceptable response is to get the gun and get the rope.) 

As the lovely Jew Rahm Emanuel once said, “never waste a good crisis.”

The crisis is in us; we are letting Jews rape our children. We are letting Jews kill our children.

The crisis is we are LETTING Jews do that which Jew always do.

The crisis is in us.

And thus in demo-cracy, the rule of the demos, the average Joe.

Now, on to this issue:

“Adolf Hitler, you took away democracy in Germany.”

Yes, I did, just as I would take the keys to a Ferrari from a seven-year-old.

In “Miami Vice” this Ferrari Testarossa was used, one of two made for the tv series 4th, 5th, and 6th seasons, with a flat-12 4.9 litre engine, cranking out 390 horsepower.

You cannot entrust the government to the average slob.  He is, to be brutal, almost  a borderline animal. And just as you do not let the dog decide if he wants to bite the mailman or shit in the corner, and you do not let the kids vote if they want to clean their rooms, in the same way you never, ever, let the average-Joe MAJORITY decide the future of the nation.

Cuz, when left to his own devices, he doesn’t give a shit.

He don’t know –and he don’t care.

When I wrote Mein Kampf, which means My Struggle, in Landsberg prison in 1924-25, my original title was much angrier:

Viereinhalb Jahre (des Kampfes) gegen Lüge, Dummheit und Feigheit

Four and a Half Years of Struggle Against Lies, Stupidity and Cowardice.

For the average guy, and this has nothing to do with IQ or education — I mean for the morally average guy — unless HIS kid is being molested and HIS daughter or wife is being raped, he doesn’t give a shit.

And mass man never, ever, ever has cared for his fellow man, never once in all of recorded history.

 But he wants to be entertained. “Are you not entertained?”

I took away democracy with the permission of the German people, I said “Give me four years time” and they voted me emergency powers during the Great Depression. So I took away the keys — I took away the loaded gun — from the selfish, irresponsible child that is the majority in every country on earth.
Ultimately, there is, of course, no more beautiful dream than what Washington, Franklin and Jefferson wanted for America — a free, informed, caring people.
Photo of the Constitution of the United States of America. A feather quill is included in the photo.The Constitution of the United States is the supreme law of the United States of America and is the oldest codified written national constitution still in force. It was completed on September 17, 1787.
But this is not a planet that old souls even come to, desiring truth, freedom, duty and order.
They do not even incarnate here.
The old souls who do come here are merely individuals who volunteer for a very tough assignment. *;) winking
The whole West needs to be placed in receivership, it must really be purged, and then ruled with a loving but iron hand for at least 25 years — until this utterly degenerate generation has left power.
We must raise a new youth up.
Hah — a Nugent-Jugend!  *;) winking
As for why I underwent such things in my John de Nugent childhood, that is the issue to return to now.
It was, yes, to cancel bad karma for losing the war in the East when there was a slight chance of actually winning it.
I accepted to pay off this karmic debt.
Every tear of every raped women I have felt in my own flesh. Not that every raped woman was an angel. But as the leader I was the one in charge.
But the second reason for my agony, something so searing it is sealed, something marked classified by the angels perhaps forever, is the one that is more important for the world, brother.
In 1954 my briefing said I would be entering a country that would become more and more a horror show.  I would thus have to create a religion that does not maintain the state, and stabilize society and values, because this state, this society and these values are genocidal.
Instead, I would have to create a religion that first of all destroys what is wicked.
And rebuilds the destroyed souls created by this wicked society.
Heals them, understands them, empowers them, no matter how shattered.
It must transform utterly sick and dying souls.
Like mine was sick and dying in 1964.
This religion must first prepare inside us a new order of freedom, security, prosperity and dignity — and then create it in the external world.
I must embody tough love, and compassion, and I must hurl at the trembling:
“Look what I went through and survived. You can get a grip too, you can overcome the worst abuse and neglect that are imaginable, because I did.
You can be the Captain of Your Soul. Together, only together, we CAN, and we WILL, become a band of brothers.
Brothers,  and sisters, fathers and mothers, friends and helpmates, comrades and heroes, becoming masculine if we are men and feminine if we are women.
And every child will be safe and loved.
A nation will be reborn from the moral and physical hell that is Jew World — in a new and sacred covenant for the ages.”

…..More information

The mind-controlled Americans among us who went through MK-ULTRA and Project Monarch

How I ran away at ten, and then the Jews, afraid to murder the oldest son of the most prominent businessman in the state and friend of the governor, burned our house down as we visited the 1964 NY World’s Fair in order to warn my father to keep it all quiet:

My personal triumph of the will over the secret, federal MK-ULTRA and Manchurian Candidate programs for the kids of the “elite”

I knew this man, Victor Marchetti, onetime special assistant to the Deputy Director of the CIA (; he worked in the next office over at Liberty Lobby when I was there 1991-93:


The Liberty Lobby Building on Independence Avenue SE, on Capitol Hill in Washington DC. That was my base of operations 1987-93 under the aegis of Willis A. Carto. (


I will say in conclusion of this long blog that, to the best of my knowledge of the Deep State and its most secret operation, the Manchurian Candidate program which is designed to create PUPPET U.S. PRESIDENTS and other mind-controlled leaders of business, finance, military and media, and this knowledge is both personal and, frankly, the fruit of vast reading and discussions,

no one has ever stepped forward, before me, and said




And I live heavily armed as a result every second of every day and every night.

1 Comment

  1. John. What you are doing here is not just courageous, it is heartbreaking because not only do I see a man of true honour slowly destroying himself and fighting tooth and nail for the sake of his people, but that those people will not rise up with him, even though they are sacrificing the lives of their children for a brief moment of comfort.

    Time is your friend, so long as you have enough of it, and how little of it they will be given for enormous price they will pay in the long run.

    We will of course find critics of everything we do and say, who proceed to dissect and label every feeling or idea we have and attribute it to the lowest possible causes. They are only satisfied when they belittle in others what is in most cases missing in themselves, and we must change this, John.

    We must wake these fools up, and I can tell you how. Please contact me. I have something to share with you that will change the way you think and act upon this matter forever. Antony.

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