All this I only discovered in 2004 but it happened way back in 1991. Despite provisions of the 1988 Privacy Act and multiple written and face to face requests to Centrelink, they have refused to correct the family record errors. In 2004 the refusal was documented with Goulburn NSW staff adding that the information was “historically correct”. How can you be historically correct and factually wrong? Many people across Australia will have had a similar experience with the retarded inbreds at Centrelink. It wouldn't surprise me if the Bradbury's were now living near me in Adelaide.
For the 'politically correct' presently jumping up and down on the spot - a retard is a stupid person, there's no escaping that. To call a person a retard is an insult. I would never call a person who was actually retarded due to inbreeding, a retarded inbred, because it’s not their fault. But Centrelink staff fully deserve the tag and then some, it was intended to be an insult, they intentionally act dumb. I think it’s part of the job description, along with extensive training in how to talk in a condescending manner, as 'best practice'. I suspect it was due to a lack of intelligence. They must have fallen as children and broken their moral compass. (Smiley-face.) That one was borrowed from my second oldest son.
I've never liked bikers. Never liked motorbikes. Never really liked pubs. Sure I was an under-age drinker in my time, went with boys I'd known from school, but I only ever drank bourbon and coca cola. Only pubs I ever drank at under-age when it was trendy, were Minto Inn, Leumeah Inn, and very occasionally Picton's George IV. Mostly Leumeah Inn. When the bikers arrived they ignored us and we ignored them. A now prominent lawyer and fellow ex-Campbelltown student drank with us but I won’t say his name as he was scared enough of his dad finding him in the pub when he was 21, he was the only person I've known to mix his bourban with dry ginger ale. His ex-classmate was Phil Stever who also drank with us. When the police arrived looking for under-aged drinkers because I didn't look guilty, looked them in the eye and didn't act like a child, they left me alone. Not so for Dianne one of the other girls usually in our group.
My pub-era was short lived. Started when I'd left school in 1973 and ended once I turned 18 in 1974. I was equally exposed to pot-smoking but wasn't interested in getting high and losing control. I only like the mildly chilled-out experienced. Never been 'can't remember the night before' drunk in my life. If I've ever looked it its because I'd been criminally drugged. I'm the sort of personality who expects to remain 100% in control 100% of the time. Therefore, I have the obvious ability to know when I've been illegally drugged, specifically if I can't remember what happened after a point the night before at a council meeting, Christine.
After I'd been drugged illegally once, I'm obviously going to be on the lookout to prevent it happening again. Which is why they kidnapped me in broad daylight, (from the patio of Camden Council when I was having a cigarette with Christine before the first MACROC meeting I was scheduled to chair) to surgically rape me circa 1997-1998, causing me permanent brain damage from that point. Since that surgical rape I reverse words I want to say. Suspicious people mistake my reverse dialogue as a Freudian slip. I often think I've said the word I want to say, only being alerted to my mistake when I hear myself saying the wrong word. I have a scar on my scalp to prove that surgical rape.
I have multiple CT and an MRI that also prove that same surgical rape, the same CT and MRI images published on this website. When they surgically raped me circa 1997-1998 they cut my skin in my hair and opened the top of my head. The lump from whatever it is they left inside me can be felt with the tip of a regular finger. I remember seeing doctors I knew during that surgical rape because I'd consulted them in private practice. But there were others involved I didn't know. I begged and pleaded with them not to do it but they simply laughed at me. Why would SHANE GOODYEAR at Ashford private hospital be so frantically intent on having me illegally detained under the Mental Health Act in 2007 in the manner he did in 2007 after I showed him the implant cable over my left ear lumped under my skin - if he wasn't in some way closely involved with my surgical rape and in fear of the threat to his life and career my exposure entailed? Why would the government breach the Mental Health Act in 2007 by not giving me the paperwork about the 2007 detention, if they knew 100% it wasn't an illegal detention and if they weren't participating in the illegal cover up of that 1997-1998 surgical rape some 1500 klm away? A cover up that spans several levels of guilt.
If you can't prove something is true, you might be able to prove its true on the 'balance of probability', by other things you can prove are true, that wouldn't happen if the first thing wasn't true.
The first time I was aware in my adulthood that Freemasons wanted to harm me was in 1978, when my husband and his best friend were caught after they stole some useless item from a factory, then ditched it in the canal along Airds Road between Campbelltown an Minto, after drinking for hours at the local pub. Both drunk, they thought it would be a good idea to steal from the factory across the road from our house, in 19 Lincoln Street Minto. I hired new lawyer John Marsden to represent my husband, Bob Peters (William Robert Peters jnr deceased on 19 June 2008). I didn't realise it at the time that John was a man with serious mother issues. He hated all women. He happily took my $100 to defend my husband but stood silent at the most important moment. The Freemason magistrate knew I had 3 children, aged from 5months to 4years. Bob's buddy, (nicknamed Buzz) had 2 small children, his wife was pregnant with their 3rd, they brought their children to court, I left mine with my mum. The Campbelltown magistrate decided that as Buzz had 2 children and one on the way he would not be sent to prison. The arsehole looked at me when he said he was going to sentence Bob and smiled when he got the reaction from me that he obviously wanted. The future president of the Law Society of NSW John Arsewipe Marsden remained silent despite also knowing I had 3 small children.
The children and I were the ones who suffered the most during the several months Bob was incarcerated at Parramatta prison from September 1978, before being sent to Silverwater minimum detention centre just before Christmas. Bob was released the following April. Not saying prison is easy. Not like you don't know it’s going to be hard. Bob got 3 meals a day and a roof over his head. The children and I hadn't done anything wrong, because of what Bob and Buzz did we didn't even have enough for food. In those days the payments to “deserted wives” was very low. This was the period of time just before the big shift in the legal status of women.
The change started with legislation amendments, mid 1984 NSW, I don't know about other states or whether is was national. The new legislation in 1984 allowed, for the first time, that women could withdraw money and close a bank account without the written permission of their male parent or their husband. I shit you not.
In 1978 a woman was not allowed to rent a house or buy on credit anything in her name if she was marred. Her husband was the only person allowed to withdraw money from her bank account. Because I refused to say I was going to leave my husband when he was in prison, the department of housing refused to give me a government rental in my name. We had to wait until Bob was released from prison. I was working nights at a local factory when Bob went to prison. When I worked he was home with the children. In 1978 there were no child care centres. I had to stop work. On the deserted wives pension the money just covered the rent for our old house. There was not enough money for all of us to eat. I knew the importance of nutrition for the children at their age, so I made sure they ate first. I ate enough once or twice a week to keep me alive. By the time Bob was released from prison I was mostly skin and bone. My Freemason male parent refused to help me. I was 22. Its from these things that Freemasons expected me to crumble and vanish. Its only due to the fantastic genes I inherited from my noble ancestors that I was able to rise above it all and be here, still standing strong today 40 years later, to keep telling the truth about The Party Faithful scum that rides rough-shod over Australians.
About my premonitions, they've been with me as long as I can remember. They've told me whenever there was danger about. Let me clarify a bit. Once we were parked on the side of the road, (circa 1964) they told me to tell my male parent to move the car. Eventually I convinced him. Minutes later an enormous limb from one of many old trees lining the road landed exactly where our car had been parked. Just saying they are entities separate from me, not me talking to me. They've saved me from disaster numerous times and long before the brain damage the Freemasons inflicted on me circa 1967. With them I get to see parts of the future. I'm what you would call a psychic. Only spoken about being psychic in recent years but the Freemasons knew about my incites back in the 1990s after a group of police detectives illegally drugged me to find anyone in my past they could threaten to assist them to attack me. Historically the Freemasons I've known are cowards, they get others to attack their targets so they can “remain blameless”.
A premonition told me my male parent's mum was going to die in June 1972 from an accident, a few days before it happened. The voices (smiley face) told me to tell my male parent his mum was asking for him as she was dying, to stop him from going to a lodge meeting and see her instead. The did that for my grandmother because they liked her. After his mum died that night my dad asked me how I knew she was asking for him. I was able to use a bit of childish logic to stop him knowing the truth. I was never sure if it worked. Its true shrinks globally will agree that hearing 'voices' means you have a mental illness, in reality that's not always the truth of it. My entire life has born evidence to that.
One of the most amazing experiences was when I was talking to a neighbour sitting at my kitchen table when 'the voices' (smiley face) yelled, “Stand up, turn around, put your arms out” I did it as they said. When I put my arms out one of the children fell into my arms from a long flight of stairs. We had concrete floors. The child would have most probably died if I wasn't there to catch them. That is proof positive we share this Earth with another species superior to us. No God, a species of being seemingly far more humane that most humans. Don't you want to know who they are? Nothing is ever as it appears to be on the surface. Personally I don't think most humans want to know the full facts of anything.
How many millions of dollars did NASA spend on the 1970s Voyager space program?
In 1977 I had a large semi-trailer ram my HR Holden up the rear shunting me about 3 car lengths forward. Had I not heeded the frantic instruction of 'the voices' (smiley face) and buckle up my lap sash seat belt for the first time in my life, (long before seat-belt laws) I would have died in that crash. I told the male who stitched me up at Camden Hospital, (I got a small cut on my arm) he said he'd heard of 'that sort of thing' before adding I should not tell anyone else or they'll lock me as a lunatic. Humans don't deserve to know.
My life experiences confirmed by many close to me and some total strangers prove, 100% that; a modern psychiatrist’s delusional belief on ‘hearing voices’ as exclusively a sign of mental illness; is akin to accusing someone of being a witch for any reason, or doubting those brave people all those years ago who told their fellow Earthlings the world was round, not flat.
I challenge the constitutional validity of a legislation that allows 'hearing voices' to be excuse to force drugs on people against their will to 'cure' them, like trying to 'cure' someone of homosexuality. Hearing 'voices' of people you can't see is more likely than not a sign that you have really very super good hearing.
Go back into recorded history and think, which French person was acclaimed as being a great battle commander while also being a teenage girl? A remarkable battle that changed the course of history eventually resulting in her being burnt alive by psychopathic Englishmen. I'm both French and English so no racial discrimination to be found here.
In all modesty, I'm more intelligent than most people, but I've never treated anyone harshly because they're less intelligent than me, can't say the same for the arrogant condescending boffins who think their lack of ability to understand me automatically means they're more intelligent, and their proof I have a mental illness, despite the massive evidence to the contrary. That's the definition of delusional. I suspect the higher intelligence goes hand in hand with the specific set of psychic abilities I have. I have at times literally seen in my minds-eye, something in the same physical plane but in a future time slot, things that actually happened a few days, weeks or months later. I get premonitions and I'm an empath. I personally feel the emotions of some people near me. Like heat that radiates. I feel the energy of a person near me. It’s not a 24/7 thing and I can't turn it on and off, it just happens. The mental health industry would love to add it to their list. However as Australian Constitution protects religions, its considerable bullshit to say non-religious people can't believe in something they can't see. Particularly as I've proven to many sometimes, I can see a future event, and I'm not talking footy grand final winners or winning lotto numbers.
Anything is possible. Every economist has been taught that that at university. However, the probability of a possibility is something else. It may be that the theories of extra-terrestrials being the creators of ancient civilisation are in fact true. They laughed at the persons who first said the words was round. They would have locked them under involuntary detention if there was funding for it and extra votes at the polling booths. Who’s to say modern medicine has the right answers today. People are still getting sick. People still die. Clearly, they don't.
Its possible that my ESP is linked to a genetic trail from the extra-terrestrial race that founded human life of Earth. Or I might simply be more in-tune to hearing the electromagnet waves from the universe. No one knows. Maybe my rare INTJ personality type that makes me naturally pay attention, so I was able to remember clearly my early childhood experiences switched on the ESP. No one knows, not me, not you. NB: No two INTJ people are the same, similar but never the same. I'm never envious. Always happy for others fortunes. I do however detest a recognition that isn't deserved which, evidently, happens most in politics. I'm probably one of the most well rounded INTJs, that's not conceited its a fact.
An INTJ could never be delusional.
Success in politics is defined by whose the best for 'The Party' which is as far away as possible to who is best for 'The People'. I have no doubt that in the very distant future the best person for politics will be defined as the person who can resist temptation the best, not the easiest as it is now.
Imagine for a moment the, (Youtube) raw theory of extra-terrestrials developing our planet is true. Imagine everyone is being spoken to subliminally by entities from that superior race. Imagine they use us for their entertainment. If you could control the actions of people in a Big Brother TV set, what would you do to the contestants? Would you be nice to the ones you like an tell them when the other contestants are planning to screw with them? Would you help the arseholes because after all you want them to entertain you? Would you do something you were being 'told' subliminally that don't sit right with you? Would you do something rotten anyway because you incorrectly think it's your subconscious talking to you?
Or would you do that mongrel thing because you really are an arsehole? If I were inclined to be an arsehole I might like to screw around with people like that. I'm too empathetic to do that shit because I wouldn't like it to happen to me, I wouldn't do it to anyone else. Even my worst enemy. Not even my old Johnson & Johnson work-mate Julie Tursky. It wasn't me Julie it was the 'spirits' living in the house at that time. I told Julie they were planning to drop a wall picture on her head. Julie got up as the picture fell where she was sitting, she ran from my house yelling back at me she thought I was a 'witch'. I guess she believes in witches. Good thing it was 1978 and not 1600s.
There's also another probability for the invasion into my private world by illegal surgical-rape to my brain, (again for the slow ones, the surgical-rape to my head is evidenced in CT scan and MRI scan) is that because I am an INTJ personality I have a multiplicity of ingenious ideas that I vocalise to myself, but keep to myself, despite that somehow many end up in Australian advertisement from time to time. It may be a remarkable coincidence that someone else in Australia has exactly the same ideas as me at exactly the same time. Wonder what the odds are on that?
Wouldn't be the first time someone stole my fantastic idea, peddled it as their own idea taking all the credit and profits as the case may be. They know who they are.
I don't have any religious beliefs or any other emotional investment in the supposition as to why I've been attacked in the ways that I have. I do have multiple scientific findings based on cold hard fact, what you do with it depends on how well you've evolved, mentally.
I've told you something about my life and given you something to take away. All I expect from you is that you think about the next thought that randomly pops into your head. Is it really your thought or some arsehole pressing your buttons for their entertainment? A life decision is like a plank of wood, (stay with me on this) once you cut it you can't take it back, then all you're left with is two short planks and there's not much thicker than two short planks. (smiley face)