Pictures are the universal language - you only need your words when pictures have been subjected to accidental or willful misinterpretation.
ABOVE: 1960s girlfriends I brought home were swamped by my male parent who thought it was OK to touch them inappropriately, I had to stop bringing girls home. A boy from my class at East Campbelltown primary school came to our house to do Boy Scouts jobs, male parent put him in a hessian sack in the back yard, he ran away screaming and never spoke to me again. I snapped this photo, that's Buffalo.
ABOVE: My beautiful mum carries her age extremely well. I know my mum did all she was capable of doing in the climate of last century when male domination was enforced with Australian law. Freemasons police turned a blind eye to Freemasons who were paedophiles and wife beaters. They still do.
Our family relationships were totally destroyed thanks to Australian Freemasons and the perpetually underhanded politics of our Australian governments who stole literally EVERYTHING good we had as a family to cover up their history of repugnant child sex crimes in the ranks of prominent Australian Freemasons.
My 1982-1983 Video: This is after I first went to Nowra police o complain about my male parent as a suspected paedophile and was refused acknowledgement on the basis he was a Freemason, like the Nowra police male I spoke to. Freemasons were very dangerous people you didn't want to cross, as my surgical-rape proves. Psychologically speaking you can see the family dynamics even in the unbroken video that wasn't looking for that. William (Bob) Peters my estranged husband was born in Whyalla, in South Australia. Bob was the cameraman for the most part, I took over to give him a break and film him. Bob turned 30 in 1983 and died an alcoholic aged 55. Bob is the love of my life, his family called him Robbie and he shared his name with his dad who lived in Melbourne. This is hard but as the Freemasons have already destroyed my family, we have nothing else to lose. Hopefully my honesty can break the Freemason-Government crime cycle that started in the police department and now enveloping the health department.
The doll with the blue dress is mine, her name was simply 'Dolly' her legs are flexible rubber and bowed, my male parent used her as a sex toy when I was little, I often found her covered in his slime hidden away in his wardrobe. Male parent always said he thought that doll reminded him of me. That never made me happy for obvious reasons. At the table when Bob was the cameraman, you can hear my second eldest saying something to my male parent. Male parent responds saying something like, “We don't talk about that.” I suspected it was in reference to his inappropriate activities with my children, under the house or in his little shed where he often took them. That's why I snapped at my then youngest who was being a little angel, sorry about that son, but I was trying to hear what my male parent was saying without making it obvious.
My male parent turned 60 in 1983. At the family birthday party in my small back yard at 282 St Johns Road Bradbury (Campbelltown NSW) you see my male parent hanging around the children, not the adults, only one of the little girls was his grandchild, the others were total strangers to him. You can hear his indifference to my second oldest when he is hurt on the swing. You see mum and Sharon spend all their time talking to each other, I'm trying to be included but as an introvert I don't push my way into the conversation. My brother's wife spends most of her time with the children inside at the TV or Atari. Sharon's husband avoids everyone, another introvert. My niece and nephews may appreciate seeing themselves and their parents in their younger days.
I’m sure every family has their idiosyncrasies. My birth family's natural quirks were added to after I witnessed the boys being raped at the Freemason Lodge meeting when one of them was murdered, circa 1967, (see my page The Party Faithful) when I was about 11, which corresponds with me being illegally refused medical treatment after I broke my arm in 1977 and was illegally identified as a murder victim, say 1987, then surgically-raped by Freemason supporters in 1997, then illegally detained under Mental Health Act in 2007, then police come up with the preposterous story claiming we're the police COFFEY family, not the Francis family in 2017. Another load of NSW police bullshit.
Can you see any pattern?
Most people think because 'everyone' does something to someone, then the someone is at fault. Not the case when Freemasons or government are involved as the offenders. As an INTJ, despite being the 'target' of hate, I can step back and look at the evidence subjectively totally removed from my emotional involvement so long as I keep that frame of mind. I’m not made of stone; I cry too. Rarely but it happens. Difference with me the crying releases the hurt, just like a pressure cooker. I don’t harbour ill feelings; I just look for evidence to prove them wrong then publish it. Ask any psychologist whose studied personality types, and INTJ is usually ALWAYS right simply because we study the problem deeply before blurting out a response. Apparently, most of you blurt your case without engaging your brain, very messy indeed.
Stepping back when everyone around me is saying the same bad thing about me, or labelling me as 'delusional' DESPITE the evidence to support my side if the events, which makes THEM delusional - then I have a pretty good idea they've been brain-fuked, or putting it nicer, brainwashed. Who does brainwashing as part of the job description? Police medical officers.
This is generally how I was treated in my family, being the youngest where my siblings equated poor eyesight with low intelligence. None of them went to university as I have. My mum gave me an expensive crockery set I suspect it was a guilt present but appreciated none the less. Sharon got one too. Mind you I never got a wedding paid for by my parents, like my siblings.
Post the 1988 kidnap of my 14 year old I was very angry at my parents. I took a hammer to several things they gave me over the years and smashed quite a lot of expensive crystal. I gave the crockery set to my brother’s wife, Beverly, for safe keeping until I wasn’t so angry any more as the setting was linked to a very rare special time I spent with mum. Sharon was mum's favourite and Sharon always made sure I knew it.
When I asked Beverly for it back she claimed she gave it back to my mother. Alan appeared to want to go along with the story. Why would Beverly give it to my mother when the agreement was to hold it for safe keeping? I strongly suspect Beverly planned to steal it from the second she offered to 'look after it'. Alan and Beverly went through a stage when they collected coloured glass crockery, literally filled up rooms of their house with the shit. Perhaps Beverly sold my expensive Royal Doulton (flowers) China a multi peace set with accessories, to pay for their coloured glass or maybe help pay for her horses. Or perhaps they kept it for themselves feeling they were entitled to it. I think the latter is probably the fact.
I remind Alan when I had my lower front teeth out (aged 11) I wasn't given a tooth plate like Alan was when he had his top front teeth kicked out. I still wasn't given dental care when Sharon broke half on my top front tooth. This was a Freemason tradition Freemasons carried on into my adulthood refusing to fix my rotting teeth.
When I did get to do something I liked, Tap Dancing and was excellent at it I had to stop after one season because male parent didn't have enough drinking money if I continued. Because I had to wear glasses Alan called me 4 eyes all our youth. Male parent was ok with that but he was ok with spiking my soft drink with beer to watch me automatically vomit. I'm 4 years younger than Alan, not much as an adult but a lot as a child. Alan loved to try on me the cruel one-to-one bashings the Three Stoogers did to each other. Male parent's normal response was to laugh.
I could go on and on about the absolute lack of nurturing I was subjected to in favour of my siblings, or the torn clothes I had to wear when it was shameful to wear torn clothes, or shoes I didn't get when my feet grew, then had to wear huge shoes through high school when I stopped growing as mum (reasonably) bought me shoes way too big thinking I’d grow but when I didn’t, there was no money to buy me ones that fit as they needed to pay for ‘something else’. Male parent always had a job that was well paid, enough to be able to buy a new family car every two years and have a second for work.
I had no jumper in winter in high school because male parent needed his beer money and Sharon refused to let me have her old school uniform and parents allowed that. Yet the only time I ever complained was when my toes started bleeding when they were curled under my feet in my shoes. I think the plan was to make me hate my parents.
If I was ever going to ‘break’ it would have been when I was a child, but I grew stronger and stronger despite my birth family. Which makes me like my mum's ancestors, a true Rob Roy MacGregor descendant, perhaps he was an INTJ too.
Then there was the time as adults after I paid my brother to erect the frames on the extensions to my house, because that was his business. When he wanted a computer and I had a retail computer store, he bought his computer from someone else, a friend of his I believe, then complained to me when the hard disk was too small as if that was my fault.
I never complained, well maybe a little. I persisted with socialising with them until ordered away by Sharon because I wouldn't 'turn a blind eye' to our male parent sexually abusing my children, thanks to the Freemasons brainwashing her. That to me is a message they were all brainwashed, like the old battle tactic? DIVIDE and CONQUER.
My favourite childhood memory of Sharon when we were early teens; she’d apparently spent ages trying to make a word from the first initial of all the names of our family and informed me she came up with the word GALAHS, (Gladys, Aubrey, Lynette, Alan and Sharon. We have no-one with a H word. Sharon exclaimed to me that this meant I was not a part of our family because there was no 'J’ in the word 'galahs'. At the time I almost wet myself laughing because we all know what a galah is when it’s not a bird. Sharon's logic was not present. But in retrospect I guess it’s the best example of the Freemasons screwing with Sharon to encourage her to hate me perhaps with the ulterior motive of trying to make me depressed. I’m an INTJ, I’ve never been depressed in my life. As an INTJ personality I can’t see any logic in getting depressed.
Alan was no saint, he inherited the evil personality when drinking beer just like dad, despite that he and I used to hide male parent's bullets and rifles and gun when he was drunk, Alan decided to follow in male parent's footsteps, get drunk and turn his baseless anger on me at family gatherings, 'because I looked like mum' thanks to the Freemasons brainwashing him. I stopped seeing Alan and Bev after I realised it impossible to continue to trust them when Alan stood by his friend at his son's wedding, circa 1997, when two significant events happened.
Alan and Beverley's friend is Rhonda Wark the little sister of Alan's best friend Neil Wark. Rhonda had been spreading false rumours in the ensuing 25 years since we were at school together, falsely claiming I used to hit her at school. It was the other way around. But my brother and his wife believed Rhonda. Alan had a personal investment in making me look like a bad person. Freemason daughter Rhonda arranged my rape in 1971 after I hit her back, once, after months of her punching me in the stomach as she walked past, because I refused to be friends with her just like her brother Neil was with Alan. I think Neil went into the police service as an adult. I suspect Neil and Rhonda's Freemason police dad put them up to it so the Freemasons could keep an eye on us and control our actions at high school.
The second adverse event at the 1997 wedding that rang warning bells for me and turned me away from my brother's family was when his oldest son, the groom, decided he'd pick a fight with my second oldest, on the basis my son 'wasn't part of our family' his hate expressions in his face and his lack of logic were exactly like my sister had been to me.
Now that son of mine has been brainwashed to think it’s been all my fault the way my birth family treat me, the things he believes are true proves to me he's been brainwashed too but in 2019 I can't see how that would benefit the 1960s Freemasons, it would however benefit the 1997 government and medical 'team' who criminally surgically-raped me in support of the Freemasons who falsely claimed I was a murder victim in 1984 in their 1989 copyright book, "Brothers In Arms..."
You see there is that continual 'gold thread' drawing it all together, all their evil actions, all their psychotic hatred linked from when to now, 1937?
Wonder what Neil and Alan got up to so Freemasons could use that as leverage to control Alan? Perhaps his stupidity in Wollongong. I’m proud of the fact I remained a virtual saint throughout my life, despite them remembering that when male parents freemason friend's (defective NSW police detective) son pointed his police issue gun at me, at his dad's funeral wake, (Jack Bassett) my mum was the one who stood in front of me ready to give her life for me as male parent stood back laughing - never forgiven arsehole.
So, you can imagine my suspicions were high when I discovered Allen & Unwin's 'mascot' was a galah. Not really, it’s a sulphur crested cockatoo, but it made me remember Sharon and her acronym for her stupid family, excluding me and recognised the same random illogic stupidity in other members of my family who were also usually reasonably intelligent.
In 1984 my male parent asked me to “give” my oldest child to him soon after the child turned 10, male parent pleaded with me more than a few times to “give” my oldest child to him. I refused so he brainwashed the child (behind my back) telling him a multiplicity of lies to make the child hysterically afraid of me; and making the child believe male parent was also his male parent; and who knows what else. After I cut ties with male parent, mum and Sharon in 1988, (when I caught male parent sexually assaulting my then 4 month old baby on 24 April 1988) male contacted my oldest child by phone to my house more than once at my residence in The Oaks NSW. Not sure how that happened. Oldest child convinced third oldest child to run away to my male parent's house. Police intercepted them in Bargo, a very long way for little children to travel in one day. Someone must have helped them. Then in November male parent kidnapped my oldest child, had pre-arranged to meet my oldest, drove from Sanctuary Point to The Oaks to collect him. The child went voluntarily because he believed the lies my male parent told him. Like all kidnapped children, in adulthood the story is different. However, the relationship with me as his mum was permanently destroyed.
Male parent falsely insisted to my face he took my oldest child to 'rescue' my oldest child from me as I was a bad parent to my oldest child, only. Suspect he was thinking of his dramatic lack of ability to parent me. State and federal government supported Freemason male parent, despite the evidence that screamed he was a recidivist paedophile. You can see what mum was up against. Our government has made this 'best practice' when people complain about me our government take any-old-lie as the truth, not bothering to check the evidence that proves the opposite. But when I complain about someone who has harmed me our psychopathic government public officers say that 'bullshit' you're delusional, despite the evidence that proves their the delusional ones.
My oldest child successfully found me in 2003 through missing persons, I visited him in Victoria where I discovered some of my grandchildren. But something happened in the interim, at Bob's wake in 2008 he gave me a false phone number and false address. Despite knowing the truth, he was convinced my male parent wasn't a paedophile, he'd been brainwashed again. My parents have had more contact with my oldest children and grandchildren than I have. Through no fault of my own I don't know any of my grandchildren. I don't know their names, their birthdays, or what they look like and my three sons who I love with all my heart and used to love me like I was the sun and the moon now falsely believe I'm some monstrous demon that I never was and have been homeless most of their adult life.
When I would visit Alan and Beverly, my sister-in-law often attempted to use psychological manipulation on me by trying to get me to join in on bad mouthing my mum. I wondered if she was recording her conversation by the odd way she was talking. I didn't take the bait. I was intrigued by their boasting of visiting distant relatives across NSW I’d never heard of; and staying overnight, when they couldn’t be bothered to travel across town to visit our sisters, or myself. In retrospect perhaps these were brainwashing events.
How my birth family treated me, due to Freemason involvement, is why I never spoke of my birth family to anyone. I never spoke badly of them because I never spoke of them at all other than to acknowledge I had a birth family. Freemasons convinced gullible persons in my immediate community that my 'secrecy' was based on my shame, something I’d done wrong. Psychotic idiots at Wollondilly Shire Council swallowed all the outrageous lies about me hock, line and sinker. When they finally realised they’d repeatedly physically attacked me, based on lies they believed, instead of an apology they illegally dismissed me from my elected position on council. One of my fellow town councillors responsible for my illegal, unconstitutional, dismissal was the closest next door neighbour to my brother, Alan.
I won’t even touch on the physical violence that was a staple in my birth family. That was standard 'family' practice last century. With me being the youngest I got the brunt of everyone’s aggression. Alan was the worst with physical violence to me, followed by Sharon. I was NEVER a naturally violent person. I hit no-one. Male parent was an excessively violent person. A trait that Alan and Sharon both adopted towards their children, Alan was the worst by far, a chip off the old block. Lynette and myself were both able to restrain ourselves. However, I do remember stabbing Lynette's hand with the sewing needle I was using as she was incessantly nagging me over something that wasn’t her business as she was sitting next to me. I remained silently sewing whatever it was, Lynette made the mistake of putting her hand on the arm of my armchair. She trespassed into my personal space as she was verbally attacking me. I reacted automatically in self-defence, (self-preservation is a primal instinct) by stabbing the top of her hand. That did the trick.
But that was never as bad as teenage Sharon throwing a knife at me in the kitchen taking a chunk out of my upper left arm as it wizzed past me, luckily it was only a bread and butter knife. Or when she pulled the sharpest carving knife we had from my hand by the handle as I was washing it up slicing my finger open lengthwise. Her favourite trick was scratching me as deep as possible with her long fingernails. Sharon was an attention seeker who demanded her own way and became psychopathically violent if she didn’t get what she wanted she was never sorry for hurting me, ever, not even when she broke my front tooth because she didn’t want me to wear our deceased grandfathers zip-up jacket as she falsely believed it belonged to her. Without warning she snatched the jacket off me and slapped me in the face with it, the metal zip broke my tooth. Sharon should have been an only child. I went all the way through puberty with a half a front tooth and no lower front teeth, which is why I rarely smiled. It was so tragic looking back.
I never attacked her back. I did snap and have a brain fry slapping her in the back with an extension cord after she told me I was a liar when I told her our male parent pointed his rifle at me. It was sometime after I was raped. I was unable to confide in anyone about my attacks because I had no-one to trust. I dealt with them by intentionally pretending they didn't happen. I moved on. Sharon knew our male parent always threatened to shoot mum whenever he was drunk, at 16 I figured he thought I was mum, but when I said, “Dad its Janette.” as he had the rifle fixed on me and his hand on the trigger he responded coldly with, “I know who it is.” I was only 16, how could any parent do that? I still can't grasp that he could function so well in the community and so badly in his private life. But then he had “the family” to lie for him. Me excluded.
My second oldest believes that what my birth family did to me, I did to him, despite the total lack of logic in his belief. I will never deny I slapped my oldest teenage across the face rather hard when he hit me when I was heavily pregnant with his sibling, but NEVER did I use a jug cord or wooden coat hanger to belt my children, which was used on us as children. Never did I hit my second oldest after I hit him on his bottom, I think too much, when he was little, for ruining all my vinyl record albums. I’m not saying I never hit them, just not as the older sons think they remember. I know 100% I never hit them with jug cords and wooden coat hangers as I refused to have them in my adult house. I had all wire hangers and I had a microwave oven or coffee machine or stovetop to boil my water. Despite these facts my older children insist I used a jug cord because someone found an old one in the door-less shed at my house; 39 William Street, The Oaks NSW, across the main road from Peter and Rose. What was NSW police superintendent Ron Stephenson's son-in-law's name as mentioned in their book, (Brothers In Arms) with my stolen photo as a murder victim? That's right, Peter.
Now that I publish my life on the internet, the current government claim I’m saying too much. Probably as I prevent them from succeeding in their historical lies. They’ve gone to the extent of claiming that my life history is 'false' defamation of others and therefore proof in their eyes that I have a ‘delusional’ mental illness. Totally bypassing the law courts. Their inferences, at state health department, are that if I say something, then it must be a lie. They’ve created a veritable encyclopaedia of statements dated from 2007 to which they affix my identification. The statements are their ‘thoughts’ or ‘beliefs’ or ‘understandings’ in other words, unqualified intangible perception of what they describe in various terms including ‘delusional thoughts’ or ‘wrote a complaint to the minister’ these they state are all the evidence the government needs to diagnose a person with a mental illness that makes them a danger to other people or themselves; and therefore need to be 'medicated' with psychotropic drugs and imprisoned against their will as they did me during election time in 2014. There is not even a single ‘event’ or piece of ‘hearsay’ evidence that they’ve given me the documents for in under 5 years so that I might challenge it in a civil court. When I have taken the basics to a lawyer, they've refused to represent me against the government on political grounds, just like the old Freemason lore of last century. This is why I started my law degree after I turned 50, my male parent was 50 in 1973.
ABOVE: The video is its original length despite the irrelevance of some of it I've decided not to remove any parts.