October 4, 1983

Congressman Don Edwards

Chairman,

Subcommittee on Civil and Constitutional Rights

Committee on the Judiciary

U.S. House of Representatives

Washington, D.C. 20515

Dear Congressman Edwards:

I am writing to you because I believe my civil and constitutional rights have been systematically violated by agents of the government of the United States. I am certain that I have been the object of some kind of psychological project or experiment.

Until recently I was employed by Northrop Corp. in the “Peace Hawk” program, a U.S. Dept. of Defense sponsored project in Saudi Arabia.

I believe that Mr. Don Minton, my supervisor, Mr. John Celms, Mr. Harold Robison, Mr. Maurice Torre, my co-workers under Mr. Minton, Mrs. Chusri Egger, my wife and citizen of Thailand, Betty G. Eisner, Ph.D., Santa Monica, California, my former psycho-therapist, and numerous other persons including Mr. Keith Kaser formerly of Page Co. (owned by Northrop Corp. at the time of his employment with the Peace Hawk Program), have participated without my knowledge or my consent in a psychological program including entrapment which has inflicted upon me cruel and unusual punishment without due process of law.

With the exception of my wife, these persons are all American citizens. The co-incidence of actions leads me to believe that they are all agents of the United States government, and that this project is illegal and unconstitutional.

The basic components of this (alleged) project are my interactions with these and other persons and my belief that they employ a purposeful “double language” both in conversations with me and within my hearing which are ostensibly about one thing, but have a second meaning of psychological importance to me -- in areas in which I am guilty, weak, uncertain or fearful.

I will tell the story in chronological order to the best of my memory. A pattern will emerge in which events will be linked to other events and “double language” conversations. Some of these actions could have their basis in the proper, legal, investigative authority of the United States government.

There should be documents regarding some of these items. It is my belief that SOME of the justification for these documents will be actions I took at the instigation of other persons -- who I believe also to be agents of the United States government. I am charging that abuse of the legal process has occurred. The government is playing both sides of the law.

I request that you investigate whether this is true. Much of this information will have to come from the Select Committee on Intelligence. I am requesting this from you because my primary concern is the violation of my civil and constitutional rights.

In the spring or summer of 1971, following quite a lot of correspondence I was granted a “second, pre-induction physical” by the Selective Service System. This took place at the induction center in Amarillo, Texas. When I arrived I went to the counter, stated my name and asked instructions.

A somewhat overweight, round faced man of 50 or so overheard me and remarked sarcastically: “Mr. Egger, we’ve been wondering what to do about your case.” That statement meant nothing to me at the time, but many years later the memory of that statement in another context caused me to wonder whether there was something quite meaningful in his statement.

Following the physical examination I was granted a medical deferment for active orthodontic work. This continued past my 26th birthday and I have never been a member of the armed forces.

About February 1972 I began psycho-therapy with Dr. Betty G. Eisner, a psychologist. The therapy included private talk sessions, group sessions, deep body massage, and psycho-active drugs, administered or prescribed by a medical doctor. An integral part of Dr. Eisner’s philosophy was that emotional states or problems could result from E.S.P. like “psychic forces” and unresolved problems in “past lives” or previous re-incarnations.

Many of Dr. Eisner’s patients were members of what was called “Group” or “The Group”. There was a formal initiation ceremony in which the person was administered a drug and then, he or she made a commitment to non-violence. There were 3 basic rules: wearing seat belts, no drugs without prior permission, and no sex without contraceptives. Many group members lived together in communes in Santa Monica or West Los Angeles. I became a group member a few months later.

The therapy program was rigorous and essentially full time -- by nature of living together with other group members. Conflicts and neurotic behavior were resolved informally, at “house meetings”, at “group meetings” or private sessions with Dr. Eisner. When I started the therapy I had been depressed, confused, and disoriented. I had sexual problems and was about to flunk out of graduate school.

The therapy was enormously helpful, and most of the problems were relieved; my sexual relations improved considerably, and after a lot of difficulty I received a Master’s degree in mathematics from U.C.L.A. (University of California, Los Angeles).

There was a general belief in the group, strongly encouraged by Dr. Eisner, of the existence of psychic phenomena. In the fall (or possibly the spring) of 1976 I had a very interesting experience. I was with a friend -- another group member. We smoked some marijuana. I went into a “trance-like” state, and I wanted to write.

After a while it seemed as if I weren’t really directing the writing any more. Then I began to hear a voice -- clear and concise -- as if dictating to me. The voice reminded me of Dr. Eisner’s voice. At the time we (Dr. Eisner and the group) accepted it as a communication from another dimension. The experience never occurred again, though I tried quite a number of times over the following months to re-create the situation in hopes of repeating the experience.

It has occurred to me that this might have been an E.S.P. experiment or possibly post-hypnotic suggestion. Or maybe it was something I generated internally “to please” Dr. Eisner. It was nevertheless a real and vivid experience.

In November 1976 Mr. Noel Kramer died following a therapy session. He was a close friend of mine. I lived in the same house with him and Carole Schindler Grover. Noel and Carole had a one year old daughter -- Amanda. Carole also had an older daughter. After Noel’s death another friend from the group moved in with us. I continued to live there as a substitute father.

Dr. Eisner stated that she felt Noel’s death was caused by “past lives coming up too fast”. He had taken a dose of oral ritalin -- a stimulant somewhat similar to L.S.D. -- and a hot mineral bath.

There had been a scheduled group meeting at another house that night. Noel’s session was at Dr. Eisner’s home, and after it took a strange turn, first Carole was called to come, later the others at the other house were called, also to come to Dr. Eisner’s home. I was arranging for a baby sitter and came a little later.

Noel was in some kind of semi-conscious state appearing not very different from people in other drug sessions we had seen. His color and breathing became worse; someone began giving him artificial respiration, and many others of us began “an organized psychic activity” -- “beaming” energy to Noel. Before long the paramedics were called. He was taken to an emergency hospital and pronounced dead shortly thereafter.

At the time I accepted Noel’s death. I felt there might have been some “extra-normal” or psychic explanation. Also, I felt, everyone in the group was consenting to, indeed requesting and paying for rigorous, radical therapy; there were risks involved, but it was a personal decision whether to accept those risks. Life continued more or less as usual. Some of the group members stopped their therapy and filed suit against Dr. Eisner. Her license to practice psycho-therapy was suspended (or revoked) about January 1979.

I didn’t arrive at the opinion that Dr. Eisner was somehow involved with the government until about the spring of 1981. In light of that belief, there are a number of items that make me wonder whether the surface explanation for Noel’s death is true. Was he a spy or counter-spy? Was his death a C.I.A.-type “hit job”? Did he really die or was his death staged to allow him to disappear into another identity under a government protection program?

Was the whole thing planned or was the situation taken advantage of to see how the group members would react? To see if someone would call a doctor before Dr. Eisner came up with the idea? Whether after his death individual reactions would be observed -- for the purpose of a psychological experiment? Or some other purpose?

Most of the following items are presented in light of my CERTAIN BELIEF that there is some kind of project in operation, and that this project employs a “double language” to communicate and condition behavior. Actions and conversations which have an insignificant surface meaning have a second, more important meaning. Some of these items may only have psychological meaning for myself. I cannot know how far-reaching this project is. If some of the items ARE part of this project, it is pretty outrageous.

Some few months before his death, Noel took an engineering course at U.C.L.A. Extension. His course project was a paper on the “lie-detector” machine. He dedicated the paper to Dr. Eisner, “...the best lie detector I know”. He showed this paper to me, and if I remember correctly, to all of the group. Noel worked for TRW Corp. in Redondo Beach, California. Could he possibly have had access to classified information? Was he possibly a government agent suspected of passing classified information, who was required to take a lie detector test?

At a group meeting a short time after Noel’s death Carole related a story about him. She said that many times he would be up very late at night. When she asked him what he was doing, he would say: “Working.” -- with no further explanation. The context of this was such that her story advanced the impression that Noel was somehow involved in illegitimate psychic activity.

Carole’s deliberate advancement of this point of view is incongruous. Many, many times in group meetings and other situations she protested against “psychic” explanations of events saying, “I don’t believe all that stuff.” Was she perhaps communicating that Noel was involved in some illegitimate activity -- secret, but more mundane than “psychic”?

One or two mornings before Noel’s death I came out of my room at the same time that Noel was taking Amanda out of her room -- which was next to mine. We stopped briefly to say hello. Amanda (just over a year old) practically jumped out of Noel’s arms over for me to hold her. Noel said, “What do you think of that?” I just smiled and said nothing. It was unusual, but I didn’t think anything of it.

After Noel’s death the remembrance of that was a strong component of the logical construction of my belief that there was indeed some psychic aspect to Noel’s demise. I felt that the baby -- not yet conditioned to filter out and ignore psychic input somehow had a pre-cognition of what was going to happen and just reacted to it.

Was that the case? Was it just an unusual occurrence? Or perhaps, was Noel so nervous she just wanted to get away? Or, did Noel nudge her to cause the whole thing to happen -- in order to condition me for something he already knew was going to happen?

There was an animated group meeting a few days after Noel’s death. At one point I defended Dr. Eisner against what I considered an unfair attack. Later, her husband Dr. Bill Micks said to me approvingly, “You’re acting like a real trooper.” Was that just a figure of speech or did it have some underlying military significance?

A few days after Noel’s death I had a conversation with Dr. Eisner, which I can’t remember exactly. She said something like: “Since you didn’t shape up, now “life” has presented you with a new responsibility.”

The responsibility was to be “father for the two young girls. The “shaping up” was ostensibly about my general character development. Somehow it has evoked guilt that I could have done something to save Noel, perhaps calling for a doctor that evening as soon as I saw him. Maybe that is just plain old guilt. Maybe it was a test of the group members to see what level of dependency we had on Dr. Eisner.

I believe it was this same conversation in which Dr. Eisner made the remark: “You have to admit I’m a good therapist -- precipitating negative transference in all those people -- (the “splinter group” who filed suit against Dr. Eisner) -- without them killing anyone.” What could this statement mean? Had she blocked out the fact that someone had died? Was it deliberate? Was it faked?

Another time -- a few weeks or months later several group members were having a conversation with Dr. Eisner. She stated: “I didn’t murder Noel. I was the agent...” In context she used the word “agent” in a psychic sense. Is the “psychic context” a cover or have a double meaning for a secret government project?

Another group member once made the statement: “Noel isn’t really dead. He’s just in another form.” this statement was made in a psychic context. Did it also have a second, real meaning? This person later left the group and told people that the group was like the Jim Jones cult that committed mass suicide in South America.

This person was Noreen St. Pierre. She was, I believe, the only group person to see Noel after his “death”. As I remember Dr. Eisner suggested that Noreen see Noel “as a representative from group”. This had the effect of discouraging anyone else from requesting to see him. Ms. St. Pierre also stated: “It didn’t even look like Noel.”

Noel was cremated before the memorial service. I really don’t remember whether his mother and brothers saw him.

It seems unlikely to me that the death was faked. By the time the paramedics were called, and they arrived his color looked progressively bad and his breathing was worse -- congested, shallow and more irregular. The paramedics had a “heartbeat scope”. The pattern was irregular, and the machine appeared to have electrical or radio interference.

If the death were faked the paramedics could almost have to be involved, certainly the doctor that signed the death certificate, the doctor(s) who performed the autopsy would have to be involved. If the switch of another body were made a some point a facial mask resembling Noel would have to be made and fitted. It would have been a technical task of considerable magnitude involving a number of different persons.

A number of former patients filed a suit against Dr. Eisner. Her lawyers were trying to locate some of these persons to subpoena them or question them. Sometime in 1977 Dr. Eisner asked me to find an unlisted phone number and address for her lawyers.

I worked at GTE Data Services in Marina del Rey, California, and I had access to that information using a computer. I retrieved the information in such a way that there was an accounting record that I had read the tape with that information. I knew how to do it without leaving an accounting record. I believe my guilt was so much that I wanted to get caught.

I’m not sure if what I did was illegal. I think it probably should have been. I’m sure it was against company policy. I can’t be certain that anything ever came of that. It is my opinion that it did become known to company management and that I suffered some harassment because of it. I can’t say that with any kind of moral certainty, but it is my opinion.

About the end of 1978 I got a new supervisor. Her name was ..... ....... She gave me assignments that were impossible to complete on time and also made numerous sarcastic and indirectly hostile comments to me. At about the same time Dr. Eisner lost her license ;to practice psychology. I started to “fall apart” emotionally. My supervisor seemed to know all the techniques to advance that process. At times I would try to “stand up “ to my supervisor, and once I directly asked her to please stop insulting me.

On occasion I discussed this with Dr. Eisner. She was very supportive of me in an angry sort of way. In retrospect I have to wonder whether she knew that I (and perhaps other group members) were deliberately subjected to de-stabilizing psychological pressures. If this is true, it is evidence of a much larger, secret social system.

I became so alienated that in the summer of 1979 I accepted an offer to work for Northrop Corp. in Saudi Arabia. Just before I left Dr. Eisner said to me: “You can do it; it’s only conditioning.”

A few days before I left for Saudi Arabia I had an interesting conversation with Carole Grover. We were having lunch. Carole’s daughter Amanda was there. Another group member was there for at least part of the conversation. There was a catsup bottle upside down on the table.

I don’t remember the exact words, but Amanda (who was then almost 4) said something like: “Mike see the catsup bottle upside down.” Carole then interjected and said something like: “What did you say Amanda? ‘Mike’s going away upside down.’?” I was stunned and furious. I didn’t say anything, I just told myself I would be gone in a few days.

If Carole wanted to distort her daughter’s perception of reality, I was not willing to take on the responsibility of trying to make it right. The second part of this conversation -- if my memory is correct this followed the first part, though I am not completely certain in my memory of the sequence -- followed a few minutes later.

We were discussing Middle Eastern politics. Carole said, “If you see Yasser Arafat...you know that little steel and wood thing you have...?” (my gun). Carole is Jewish and a strong supporter of Israel. This remark seemed to be a suggestion that she would like me to shoot Mr. Arafat.

Was this part of a “conditioning project” -- a psychological experiment authorized by the United States government? I didn’t take the gun with me, of course -- but the remark was de-stabilizing in any case.

In the previous months I had been in bad shape psychologically -- especially since Dr. Eisner had lost her license. I was smoking marijuana a lot -- secretly, and also sometimes late at night I would strap on my gun and holster, walk around inside the house -- (sometimes outside and once or twice down the street) -- to ward off and protect against “evil spirits” -- psychic forces. Maybe Carole knew about this and she was just “paying me back”.

I was in pretty bad shape psychologically when I arrived in Saudi Arabia. I had hidden 12 little “blotter paper” tabs of L.S.D. in my home shipment. There had to be less than one chance in a million that it would be found coming through customs. Nevertheless, my paranoia focused on that, and I was convinced I would get caught and sent to prison for many years.

I found out later that the shipment was considerably overweight, and I would have to pay a considerable surcharge or only ship part of the shipment. I telephoned Dr. Eisner several times to ask her help with this.

She knew how I had hidden the L.S.D. I asked her to separate it and leave it in storage in California. (When we talked about it we didn’t have to identify on the phone what we were talking about.) She said not to be so paranoid, that it would be okay -- that she “WOULD GUARANTEE IT”.

I said I couldn’t accept that. I thought she was giving me a guarantee in a “psychic sense” -- that her intuition was very strong about it. Now I believe that she was giving me an official guarantee -- backed by the United States government. In any case I finally held the whole shipment and sorted it myself some months later.

After a few months I discovered that drugs were available. I began using marijuana and hashish. I was afraid of getting caught, but many people were open and casual about using drugs. I just pushed down the fear and paranoia. It is my firm belief that the C.I.A. and/or D.I.A. set up this whole environment in order to manipulate and control American citizens. I’m sure they had other objectives also, but that isn’t my concern.

In the spring or summer of 1980 Mr. Keith Kaser, an American citizen, Peace Hawk employee of Page Corporation which at the time was owned by Northrop Corp. -- asked me to do a favor for him. He asked me to keep about one or two kilograms of marijuana at my apartment for a few days.

Mr. Charles “Mac” McDonald, also an employee of Page Corp. was Keith’s roommate. Mid-way through the conversation he came into the room and said to Keith, “Did you ask him yet?” Mac joined in the conversation about Pete. Keith said he got the marijuana when the supplier had an argument with Mr. Pete Alexander also a Page employee.

He said he was afraid Pete might call the police to get revenge, but that I would be safe since I lived at another compound. I agreed to allow Keith to bring it out to my apartment. It was there for a few days without incident.

I have read that the intelligence agencies outside the United States have the authority to initiate covert surveillance of American citizens believed to involved in drug trafficking. I believe that Mr. Kaser was acting as an agent of the U.S. government in order to get me to do something to justify this project. THERE SHOULD BE paperwork on this.

I believe that this project of information gathering includes the technique of persons discussing something with me or within my hearing in which there is a double meaning of emotional significance to me -- in order to see how I react. This is a technique for gathering information that could be considered proper if the subject were truly believed to be a hostile spy.

And as for the possibility that they could learn anything from me about drug trafficking that they didn’t already know -- I am certain that they knew differently. Their purpose was to manipulate and control -- to cause psychological changes in me.

A couple of other interesting things occurred with Mr. Kaser. He was planning to leave Saudi Arabia about August 1980. I told him I wanted to buy his television set. We discussed it several times over a period of one or two weeks. Before I bought it he told me it was “semi-hot”.

I think that was a deliberate, provocative ambiguity. Of course “semi-hot” means “hot”. My emotional state was such that I ignored it. I was smoking marijuana a lot, partially to cover up my feelings about what had happened in California, and as time went on I think to cover up my fears about getting caught breaking the drug laws of Saudi Arabia.

Underneath I was deeply depressed, and I retreated into an escape mechanism. It was emotionally painful for me to go into town to go shopping. It wasn’t until several years later that I came to the opinion that this too was part of some kind of project -- deliberate entrapment -- skillful manipulation of my emotional weaknesses to get me to do something I wouldn’t otherwise have done. My punishment was to come several years later.

There is another interesting incident with Mr. Kaser. He rode with me in my car from time to time. I always make everyone who rides with me wear the seat belt. Keith complained about this several times. On one occasion he refused to put it on. I told him it was my car and I wasn’t moving until he put on the seat belt. He finally did so, but he was quite angry.

Sometime later he asked me why I was so insistent about the seat belts: “I think you must have been in an accident when you were younger.” I said that was true, but it wasn’t the reason I insisted on the seat belts. I think this happened before the television incident, but I don’t remember with certainty. In retrospect I believe that this was an effort to get me to weaken my emotional ties with Dr. Eisner, since wearing seat belts was a group rule.

It wasn’t until the spring of 1981 that I came to the realization “that something was going on”. I was sharing an office with Mr. Celms and Mr. Robison. From time to time there would be conversations that seemed strange to me. I can’t recall much of it now. I didn’t have a theoretical framework with which to organize my memory. I feel certain that this subtle “double language” was going on.

I have the right to know what items of my personal and psychological history and what specific techniques and motivation were employed. I believe I was deliberately stressed to the point of some kind of emotional catharsis. I underwent a period of intense fear and emotional pain.

There were several interesting conversations with Messrs. Celms, Robison and myself. On one occasion I spoke of my frustration at living in Saudi Arabia -- a common malady -- and conjectured that it might be best for me to leave. Mr. Robison joked -- “Good, then we can all leave.” This disoriented me somehow. I didn’t say anything, but I was left with a strange kind of anxiety. How was it that my presence required Mr. Robison’s?

On another occasion we were discussing C.I.A. “dirty tricks” -- specifically the experiment of administering L.S.D. to unknowing human subjects during the 1950’s. I don’t remember exactly the conversation, but upon mention of this project I just said one word: “Unconscionable.”

Mr. Celms didn’t hear and asked what I had said. I repeated my comment: “Unconscionable.” It didn’t occur to me at the time that there might be a connection, but I was left with a kind of unsettled anxiety. I recalled, but did not discuss -- a group meeting a few years earlier.

Dr. Eisner was one of the original L.S.D. researchers. Someone in the group mentioned that one of the “unknowing subjects” had committed suicide about 3 days after having been given a dose of L.S.D. without his knowledge. Dr. Eisner responded forcefully and angrily, “That’s not the reason he committed suicide.” She obviously had some personal knowledge of the situation, though she didn’t say what it was. The conversation was effectively terminated.

I think that John and Hal were testing me to see what my reaction would be, and also STARTING to let me know that a kind of similar project was in progress.

I became friends with Mr. Pete Alexander, Peace Hawk employee of Page Corporation, owned by Northrop at the time. On occasion I bought marijuana, hashish, and cocaine from Mr. Alexander. We “got high” together on numerous occasions.

After a while I started to wonder whether Pete was a C.I.A. (or some such) agent. I think he was probably fairly high ranking. I remember a conversation in which he remarked about the fact that the wife of the Peace Hawk director -- a Northrop vice-president -- had been given the job of hairdresser at on of the recreation centers.

Pete had wanted that job for his wife, and he was quite angry. He said, “I’m taking that one all the way to the top.!” A few days later it was announced that his wife was given the position.

The late winter and early spring of 1981 were quite eventful. I am certain that this “purposeful double language” was in progress, though I don’t remember specific conversations. I suspect, and I have the right to know whether it is true, that the cocaine I was getting had some other kind of drug -- experimental or psychedelic or something.

Pete once made a comment about the cocaine. He said, “I don’t need this.” He said it like it was a chore that he would be just as happy not to do. I am sure there was some kind of conditioning project going on, and that leads me to suspect there might have been some other special drug mixed in.

One evening as I dozed off to sleep I awoke with a terror -- I “heard” Noel Kramer’s voice say to me: “I’ve given them your name.” I was stunned -- “My God -- what is this -- evil psychic forces?” I was extremely shaken and frightened. This anxiety at an irrational level set the stage for the following several weeks.

I HAVE THE RIGHT TO KNOW whether this “thought” was deliberately implanted by some subliminal means -- by ARAMCO (Arabian-American Oil Co.) radio or television transmission, from a video cassette sound or picture track -- OR SOME OTHER MEANS.

Many other things happened during this time. I was led to believe there was a drug bust going on or about to take place. One of the first things that startled me was a movie at the Northrop recreation center. It was about modern day pirates in the Caribbean. A young boy had been kidnapped and had become part of the pirate gang.

Towards the end of the movie the pirates surprised a Coast Guard ship and killed everyone. The pirates were all coming on board for a celebration. The boy’s father had escaped or found them or something. He commandeered a big caliber machine gun and killed all the pirates”: and father and son were re-united.

A nice, entertaining movie -- except at the very end, a faint but identifiable image of the face of Jesus Christ was overlaid on the normal picture track. I was somewhat freaked out by this, but I tried to just forget it.

Another time, in the office, in a conversation I used the term: “Jesus Christ” as a slang expression -- something like -- “Well, Jesus Christ, I don’t know...” Mr. Celms said: “Why don’t you ask him?” Perhaps John was just expressing a religious point of view, though I think it was part of this project.

Another time I was at Mr. Alexander’s home watching a movie on video tape. It was a supernatural type movie about a young girl who had been raised and intended to become a high priestess of a devil cult. She was rescued from her initiation ceremony by a strong father-figure. I had the feeling that I was “supposed” to ask Pete for “protection”, but I just wouldn’t bring myself to do it. Another close friend of ours was there -- Pete turned to him and said, “I made a mistake.”

Another time in the office Mr. Celms said to Mr. Minton something like (I don’t remember the exact words): “They must be planning a big “production” with such a big budget.” Another time (or possibly as part of the same conversation) John said indirectly to Mr. Minton -- you go into the room and start the tape recorders.”

During this time I had also become friends with Mr. Jim Behreins (Behrens?) -- a Northrop employee. We would smoke marijuana and hashish and snort cocaine. Jim had a favorite song he played many times -- the lyrics went: “One way or another I’m gonna get you, I’ll get you, I’ll get you, get you, get you, get you.” It began to play on my mind after a while.

One day Jim had a somewhat nasty looking wound on his forehead. He said he had banged the windshield of his car or something like that. It seemed a little implausible and I feared that he had been beaten to get him to tell about people who were involved with drugs. I was afraid that “my turn” was coming soon. Jim asked me if I wanted to watch a movie (on video cassette). I said okay. He said he would go to a friend’s place (Mr. Tom Smerlis, a Northrop employee) and “put on a different ending.” We could watch it the next day.

The movie was “Midnight Express” -- about a young American who was in prison in Turkey for a drug offense. Jim said it was “apropos” for the situation.” I was just terrified. I was just waiting for the interrogation to start, but nothing ever happened. My uncertainty and anxiety was at an all time high. I knew something was going on, but I didn’t know what it was.

Back in the office, Mr. Minton came in and bruskly demanded: “I want some answers!” I’m sure this was intended to startle me -- which it did. He then indicated he was speaking to Mr. Robison and continued something like: “What do you know from that organization you used to be associated with?” Hal replied, “I’ve been associated with a lot of organizations.”

All of these things occurred within a week or two of each other. I may not remember the exact sequence.

Also during this time I was friends with Mr. Vern Salazar (American citizen) and Mr. Mike _____?? (I don’t remember his last name) -- a British citizen, both employees of Page. I was with Vern and Mike one evening when Mike showed me a little kit with various “spy items” in it.

He didn’t say he was a spy, but the items (which I don’t remember) and his explanations were clearly intended to make me think he was a spy. He then proceeded to tell me about a British spy and told me his name -- which I made a point not to remember. I’m sure the purpose of this was to “sensitize” me somehow.

Another time not long after the murder of John Lennon -- Vern said to me, “Some people think the C.I.A. was responsible.” What was his purpose in telling this to me?

Another evening Vern was at my apartment. There had been a fire at an ammunition dump on the base. The story was told that it had been caused by a cigarette in a trash can. I had heard the story initially as a funny incident regarding the fire department’s reaction with no mention of injuries. Vern said what really happened was that ammunition was being shipped to Iraq in crated marked food and clothing. The person handling it didn’t take proper safety precautions and was killed.

Another evening I was at home alone. After midnight I was listening to the ARAMCO (Arabian American Oil Co.) radio station. For several hours there would be songs followed by either the sound of a jet plane taking off or some phrase or other indication. I realized that the songs were (or could be) descriptive of persons; and the plane taking off or the other more varied kinds of indications (I cannot remember any specific indications) -- were signals to tell whether the person would be allowed to stay.

There was one song -- if I remember correctly, before midnight -- which I thought might apply to me. I mentioned this to Jim Behreins. He asked me what time it had been. I told him, and he said that it was okay. While it was not specifically mentioned in the conversation -- his reply re-inforced my opinion that the C.I.A. (or some such) was using ARAMCO radio to communicate. My wonder and amazement and anxiety about what was going on continued to increase.

I started listening to the radio carefully, trying to decipher hidden messages. I thought there was probably a general C.I.A. recruitment going on, but as time went on I imagined that there were fewer and fewer people still “unaccounted” and there would be an increasing number of “messages” intended for me.

I was in the office one day with the radio on. A song came on with the lyrics: “You have 30 seconds to tell me everything you know.” For some reason I thought that this was an ultimatum from Jim (Behreins). I left work and drove to his office. He said, “No -- that wasn’t so.” This didn’t relieve my anxiety -- it just continued to increase.

After this my emotional state was in a shambles. I went into Mr. Minton’s office and said -- “What do they want to know?” He said, “What are you talking about?” I said, “There’s a drug bust going on isn’t there?” Just get me out of here so they don’t kill me.” He said, “Are you all right? You just got some bad stuff or something.”

The next day I went into his office and said, “Do they think I’m a spy?” Don said, “Just calm down. Everything is okay.” (Or something like that.)

During this time I discussed with Mr. Minton on several occasions items in my personal history to explain my feelings and behavior. I told him about having been in psycho-therapy, about Noel Kramer’s death; how I thought I used drugs to escape psychological pain. I told him my leg had been broken in a car accident when I was under 5 years old, and that the drugs I was given before the operation had taught me that drugs could be used to reduce pain.

I was enormously distressed by all of this. I discussed my fears about a drug bust with Jim Behreins. I had a business trip to the U.S. coming shortly -- I told Jim I was sure that when I got my passport I would have an “exit-only” visa and would be able to return.

I bet him 500 or 1000 Saudi Riyals ($165-$330) that I wouldn’t be allowed to come back. When we made the bet he said that later I would be mad at him for taking advantage of me. In other words -- he knew there was a big production going on -- of which I was ostensibly unaware.

A few days before my business trip I went to Mr. Minton’s office for some reason. A Saudi Air Force person was having a conversation with Mr. Minton. When I came into the room he said to Don, “He’ll be all right -- a new passport, a new life.” What was this conversation? Was it meant to intimidate me? To have some kind of effect? To evoke feelings about Noel Kramer? It didn’t occur to me until quite a long time later that Noel might not have actually died.

Another evening late -- midnight or later I had been using come cocaine. There was rumbling, like thunder outside. It might have been the bowling alley at the recreation center, though it was past closing hours. Then there were one or two (or more) flashes of light -- powerful short bursts of light like from an electric arc.

It was like lightning, in a way, but I’m sure it wasn’t. It evoked memories of a religious experience I had had in high school in which I had a 360 degree vision of intense white light and intense euphoria. This had been preceded by (and I thing precipitated by) a powerful lightning bolt striking near my bedroom.

The fact that someone had set off this light caused me to come to the conclusion that all these things that had been happening were of psychological significance to me, and that there was a deliberate project going on. Then the astonished realization (belief) that “Betty Eisner is involved in this!”

I had told other people about the religious experience, but suddenly all the disparities of the previous years began to make some kind of sense. Not that this helped my emotional state. My amazement, fear and wonder just continued to increase.

A few days before my trip my paranoia reached such a state that I flushed all my drugs down the toilet.

I took the Pan Am-Saudia Airlines flight from Dhahran to New York. Mr. Minton had asked me to mail a letter for him. It was to someone whose initials were D.E.D. and had an address on Ash Street in Atlanta. Mr. Celms drove me to the airport, and he gave me the letter.

My paranoia was high. Was this a “dead letter” -- what significance did that have? When John gave me the letter he said he “put the stamp on it.” I was reluctant to take the letter -- given my fear and uncertainty. But I took it -- what else was I to do? The stamp was about “The International Year of the Child.” Did this have any significance -- was this saying to me that I was a child?

I was taking this trip to go to Wright Patterson Air Force Base in Ohio, and to take some I.B.M. courses in order to set up a computer communications link. Also on the trip to the airport John said to me, “Be sure to take notes -- they’ll want to know.” It was not -- “Take notes so you can do this project.” -- but, “...they’ll want to know.”

On the plane there were some “indirect conversations of not much importance that I felt were directed at me. There was something on one of the movies that was quite significant. There was a “scene” long enough for me to see it and “register it” that was completely out of sequence and out of context: it was a scene -- maybe only a few frames -- of Vern (Salazar) with his head wrapped in a bandage. This evoked in me the thought that Vern might have had cosmetic plastic surgery for an identity change.

Sometime along the way I came up with the idea that this was conditioning to get me ready to become a spy for the C.I.A. One of the scenes in one of the movies was about someone who got a traffic ticket. His driver’s license was in his shirt pocket. I made notes about conversations on the plane and other items I felt were part of this conditioning on a traveler’s check and had put it in my shirt pocket.

I became paranoid about this and decided to flush it down the toilet. I don’t remember specifically the action, but I did something that could be seen -- like an involuntary reaching for the writings in my pocket. I “realized” I had given away the fact that I knew a conditioning project was under way.

This had been the 3rd movie of the flight. It was a “short” without much meaning -- except that I thought it was a “training” film. This feeling was re-inforced -- after the end of the movie. I went to flush the writing and saw in another section another movie -- different from any of the movies that had been shown in my section.

The scene was of a young woman in uniform, saluting. I thought that probably what was happening was that there were only a few “subject” people in the different sections. That this movie was for the benefit of a woman who had “qualified” while mine was about someone in trouble with the law.

All of this and especially since I had demonstrated that I knew the project was in progress, made me fearful and guilty. I became afraid that I had screwed up so badly that I might be killed. It was a sudden, gripping kind of terror. I had a strong urge to go to the emergency exit and jump out. We were slowing down and flying lower -- I thought I might survive. I just gripped my chair to avoid moving.

After we landed I called Mr. Minton at least two different times. I was so freaked out and disoriented I told him I was going to go to a hospital. He suggested that I just go to a hotel room and get some rest. I went to the Jamaica hospital near J.F.K. Airport. I said I was suffering from exhaustion and needed a hospital room for a few days.

The receptionist said I would have to wait for 4 or 5 hours. I sat in the lobby to wait. Two black men came in and sat down near me. One of them had an object wrapped in a brown paper sack. It was about the same size and shape as a gun.

I became very paranoid. I felt certain they would follow me when I went outside, fake (or perform) a robbery, and then kill me. After a while the man with the “gun” looked at me and smiled. It didn’t reduce my paranoia. There was a small boy near me with his mother. I considered grabbing him as a hostage, but I said to myself -- “I will not terrorize a child.” I felt it would only make things worse.

I had some L.S.D. with me. I decided to take a large dose (about 500 micrograms) I felt my life was finished, and I decided to live my last few hours as intensely as I could. As the drug started to take effect I calmed down somewhat. I began to write. I subsequently threw the writing away because I didn’t want someone to read it and use it against me.

All I can remember writing is: “The L.A. computer experiment has failed. It was Jim’s (Behreins) song: ‘I’m gonna get you.’, and John (Celms) and (‘something he said’) that really got to me.” I can’t remember what it was that Mr. Celms said that affected me so. It was something that made me think of Dr. Eisner.

After a while I was quite stoned (intoxicated), but I was calm. I found the cafeteria and had a snack and some coffee. I went outside into a heavy, blowing snowstorm. The cold was bracing. I went to a nearby store and called for a taxi. I went back to a nearby hotel -- if I remember it was the Jamaica Hilton.

I stayed at the hotel several days writing and trying to get myself together. Later I flushed the writing down the toilet because I didn’t want someone reading it and using it against me. In my stress I called Mr. Minton and asked him to be my father.

I was remembering the pirate movie and how the father rescued the son from the pirates ending with the “seal of approval” of Jesus Christ. Also Mr. Minton had used the term “my son” for various people with the kind of frequency recently that made an impression on me.

Some short while later or maybe the next morning I went to the restaurant in the hotel. Some people arrived after me (I believe) and sat nearby. Someone said: “Ah! The magic word!” I felt sure this was in response to my conversation with Don.

Another time I called Dr. Eisner. I told her I was paranoid, that random noised set it off. She said my name 3 times -- “Mike? Mike? Mike?” I spoke but it was as if she didn’t hear me, and she hung up. I took this as a clear signal that I was not supposed to talk about the process. I did call her back, and there were one or two other conversations also.

I believe it was when I called her back she suggested I take a walk. I felt this was a test to see if I would follow orders. I was afraid I would be killed. But, I felt it wouldn’t make any difference -- if they were determined to kill me they could surprise me sometime later anyway. I went for a walk -- a car came around a corner somewhat fast. I was terrified but I wasn’t killed.

I went to Texas to visit my family. I came to believe that they too were involved in this project. My brother asked me if I was involved with the C.I.A. or anything: “Mama will want to know if her boy is safe.” My brother-in-law asked me if I was going to a special I.B.M. course. I said no.

When I got there (to Dallas) a few days later I decided it WAS special, and that he knew something I didn’t. In the class were two men who were sitting together and obviously knew each other. They looked very similar to two friends I knew from Rockwell Corp. We had started to work there at the same time (June 1969), and we all three had draft deferments for essential employment in a defense industry.

One of the men (in the I.B.M. class) made a remark to someone about a computer project. The remark was similar to a project I had been thinking about and probably had discussed with other people (in Saudi Arabia). I told him I had overheard his remark and wanted to discuss it further.

He gave me a very short reply -- a rather rude reply. He was clearly communicating that he was not interested in communicating. A minute later he said to his friend, “I thought we’d get a ‘bite’ on that one!” (Or something similar to that.)

Various things happened while I was visiting my family that made me think they were involved. My father and brother-in-law discussed drilling for oil in Columbia. My father laughed and said, “Let’s drill sideways and see if we can get something.” I felt this was to evoke an emotional reaction from me about cocaine. At some point later I said to my father: “I got cocaine from Pete Alexander and Jim Behreins.” He said, “Well, it’s your life.” Jim wasn’t a dealer like Pete. I think I was angry at him for his part in the drug bust scare.

I went on to Dallas and then to Dayton, Ohio to Wright-Patterson Air Force Base and D.A.A.S. (Data Automation...or something) to learn technical specifications for a project to transmit data to and from the computer in Saudi Arabia.

A couple of interesting things happened in Ohio. I told a security officer that a friend of mine had told me the name of a British spy. It was a kind of boasting incident that I didn’t want to hear and couldn’t remember the name anyway. He said to just forget it -- it wasn’t important.

The next day one of the persons I was working with said he had a message from my boss -- “Since you can walk on water be sure to get all the specifications right so you can do the project.” In one of the conversations I had with Mr. Minton before leaving Saudi Arabia I had discussed Jesus Christ and my religious feelings. I’m sure this was a reference to that conversation and to my discussion with the security officer.

I went on to California where I had some I.B.M. courses in Los Angeles. I stayed in a spare room in one of the group houses. I told Dr. Eisner some of the things that had happened. I told her of conversations within my hearing that had some kind of significance to me. Her remark was: “How interesting -- the personal reference of schizophrenia.” Is this the government’s position on persons who detect the particulars of a secret conditioning program?

Regarding the drug bust scare she said to low key the whole thing and just tell the group I had a scare, and it had all blown over. I didn’t listen to that. I told the group some of the particulars including my belief that Dr. Eisner was a ranking officer of the C.I.A. Everyone got a big laugh out of that.

I told Dr. Eisner about seeing the image of Jesus Christ on the movie screen. I told her this and a few other things I can’t remember now to support my belief that there was some secret project going on. She became very angry and said, “What does it mean TO YOU?” -- to stop the conversation -- not to discuss whether it might be true.

I also told her the story -- I called it “gossip” -- about the death at the ammo dump. This incident was also the subject of another “indirect conversation” directed at me in the summer of 1982. Either the story from Vern was a “plant” which he reported (later causing the 1982 incident), or Dr. Eisner reported it, or her home was bugged.

That could have been possible also -- I had asked Mr. Minton for his permission to discuss some of the things with Dr. Eisner. I never discussed the ammo dump story with anyone else. (I never discussed that particular item with Mr. Minton.)

The group placed a lot of pressure on me to commit not to use drugs again in Saudi Arabia. I finally committed not to use cocaine for a certain period when Dr. Eisner threatened not to have anything to do with me unless I would make some commitment.

At one point her husband, Dr. Bill Micks asked me if I would still use drugs if I KNEW I would go to prison. This made me angry -- I was willing to take the risk -- but how could he KNOW without some knowledge of the project. I just answered: “I don’t know.” This memory was to have unfortunate effects on my behavior some time later.

I returned to Saudi Arabia. I kept the commitment for a while. I was upset and angry and very disturbed that Dr. Eisner might be involved somehow with the C.I.A or some such agency. If I remember the time correctly -- it was a few days after my return -- I discussed my fears about Dr. Eisner with Mr. Minton.

I related the story of the secret L.S.D. experiments the C.I.A. performed in the early 1950’s and that Dr. Eisner had been an early L.S.D. researcher -- starting sometime in the 1950’s. I related my fear that possibly my friend Mr. Kramer might have been the victim of a C.I.A.-type “hit job”. It was far from my mind -- the possibility that the death might have been faked.

After a while my anger about my feelings of Dr. Eisner being part of some kind of C.I.A. project became so intense that I said, “To %$#* with it all -- I won’t keep the commitment.” Jim and Pete had both several times asked me if I wanted to use some cocaine, and I had said no. Jim was the first to ask me again after I changed my mind. I started using cocaine again.

Things went on more or less as normal. In September or October of 1981 I took an around-the-world trip. I visited California for a few days. I didn’t have the courage to tell Dr. Eisner I had broken the commitment about using cocaine. I was guilty and angry though I just covered up my feelings and pretended everything was all right.

After a while I convinced myself that everything was okay. I slowly pushed out of my mind the idea that Dr. Eisner was involved in some kind of project.

On this same trip I went on to Thailand. This was when I met Maw (Chusri, my future wife) in Patty Beach. Maw’s friend is a Thai citizen, the wife of Mr. Wayne Tishbern, a U.S. citizen who had been a friend of mine in Saudi Arabia.

After I had been there a few days I asked Wayne and his wife out to dinner. His wife asked if Maaw could join us. I said yes. Maaw and I stayed together that night. I asked her about contraceptives. She said she thought she couldn’t get pregnant. She had a miscarriage about seven years earlier. After that she had an active sex life including a three year marriage. She never used contraceptives and never got pregnant. When we were married I told her I wanted to have children -- maybe in a few years -- that she could have an operation, and I was sure we could have children.

When I got back to Saudi Arabia there had been a big alcohol bust. Mr. Pete Alexander had left in fears that he was about to be arrested. I was afraid that something would happen to me because of my association with him. Many people had seen me at his home, sometimes using drugs. There were still drugs available -- marijuana and hashish -- though I think I never had any cocaine after that. There WAS a time after which I never had any cocaine in Saudi Arabia.

Still, life went on, more or less as normal. I had a two week R&R (rest and recreation) vacation coming in mid January. I told Mr. Robison that I was going to try to get married -- to Maaw. He was an old friend of Wayne’s and I thought he would be interested. I hardly knew Maaw. I felt I had to do something to change my life.

I was smoking marijuana and hashish a lot. I was very depressed, very guilty about having broken the commitment to Dr. Eisner and the group about not using cocaine for some limited time. I had mostly pushed out of my mind the idea that Dr. Eisner was involved with the C.I.A. It was still there in the guilt and fear. I liked Maaw; I was very lonely and depressed. I wanted to moderate my drug usage, but I knew it wouldn’t happen without some radical change. I had to take a chance and try to get married.

When I went to Thailand I went to Pattaya Beach. Maaw was visiting her family and would be back in a few days. I don’t remember the exact timing -- I am mostly certain it was before I said anything to Maaw about getting married -- Mr. Tishbern told me that one American who was living in Pattaya -- had told Wayne’s wife that he wanted to marry Maaw. Wayne said, “That’s crazy.” I had the sinking feeling that he was telling ME something, but I didn’t respond. My mind was made up and I didn’t want to be talked out of it.

Maaw and I were married shortly later. I had to go back to Saudi Arabia and arrange for her visa. It was to be about 4 months before she would come.

During this time a number of interesting things happened. Mr. Tom Smerlis -- an employee of Northrop was a friend of mine. Tom had been friends with Mr. Behreins and Mr. Tishbern also. One evening Tom and I were smoking some marijuana or hashish. He remarked: “I’ve taken another job at night time -- it requires that I be good and stoned.” I just ignored it.

I really didn’t know what he was talking about. It was mysterious enough that I thought it might be C.I.A. related. Why would it require him to be “good and stoned”? Surely he wasn’t doing “hit jobs” and talking about it. It just did not occur to me that “I” was the object of his assignment.

Another time Tom said to me, “You ought to work for the C.I.A.” I said, “Sure.” -- sarcastically. We had been watching a movie or television show that had some C.I.A reference. He continued: “I’ve heard they have 12 companies. I just ignored him.

Mr. Tom Day called me one evening. Tom had been an employee of Page Corp. -- owned by Northrop and a sub-contractor on the Peace Hawk Program -- about a year previously. We had been friends and had many wild drug times. He was back in Saudi Arabia working for another company. Many things happened with Mr. Day over the next several months.

Mr. Smerlis and I spent a lot of time together -- usually smoking marijuana or hashish. Tom was drinking a lot also. Once we were at the Khodari apartment of Mr. John Bates (a Northrop employee). Tom was exhibiting difficulty standing up. I more or less carried him home. Mr. Tom Day was also there. He had been drinking but wasn’t drunk. Mr. Day was going into town for some pizza. Mr. Smerlis said to him -- “Watch out for the cops.” Mr. Day laughed and said, “Have you seen my driver’s license?” I am the police.

Another time I was at Mr. Smerlis’ apartment. I don’t remember the exact sequence of events. We were discussing philosophically the situations under which it was right to kill someone. I said it was absolutely proper in self-defense and that maybe sometimes you have to have wars. I don’t remember the exact conversation, but at one point I said, “Bull *&%#! You’ve [never] killed anybody. I’ve never killed anybody. This is all speculation.”

Another time I was at Mr. Smerlis’ apartment. Someone from Tom’s group at work was there -- John ????? -- I can’t remember his last name -- who lived in Khodari “G” building. We smoked some hashish. I was a little concerned about John ????? he was older and seemed a little square. Mr. Smerlis was very drunk and somewhat loud and obnoxious.

I had the feeling that John ????? might be checking up on Tom. Tom had been getting drunk a lot and “letting slip” items that I considered to be “C.I.A. secrets” It is my belief now that the whole thing was staged for my benefit -- as part of a psychological project to evoke and affront my feelings about Dr. Betty Eisner and Mr. Noel Kramer.

The next day Mr. Smerlis and I were at my apartment. As usual Tom was very drunk. Mr. John ????? from the previous evening -- called my apartment and asked to speak to Tom. A little later he called back and said, “The Chief wants to talk to you.” He didn’t identify himself, but he was asking about Tom.

I was quite freaked out by this. I just said that Tom had been drinking too much wine. He said they wanted to talk to Tom and that they might come over in a little while. We had been smoking hashish and I didn’t want them coming to my apartment. A few minutes later they called again and talked to Tom. Tom went on to his apartment. I stayed home and tried to calm myself.

That evening I noticed that Tom had left his wallet, and I took it over to his apartment. The same John ????? was there, and also another person who worked with them (whose name I don’t remember). This new person asked me my name, where I worked, who my boss was and a few other questions. He remarked: “Why haven’t I heard about you. That makes me suspicious. I’m going to come over tomorrow and check you out -- okay?” I told him I would be at work.

The next morning I told Mr. Minton I was afraid I might be in trouble. I told him some of the story and said someone had told me he was going to come “check me out”. Mr. Minton told me just to forget about it.

I can’t remember the sequence of the next several items. Some of them MAY HAVE occurred before this previous incident.

ITEM: Tom Smerlis, continuing our philosophical conversation about killing said, “I’ve killed five people in a war-like situation.”

ITEM: Tom Day said to me: “I know the history of your friend Tom (Smerlis). Someone needs to tell him he’s drinking too much.”

ITEM: Tom Smerlis and his father Don Smerlis (Northrop employee) were at my apartment. Tom said, “I knew about your marriage the day it happened.” A few days later Tom and Don Smerlis were at my apartment again -- Don showed us (ME!) his “new” tape recorder -- a small one -- pocket sized. He said, “This is for business meetings.”

Also during this time, marijuana and hashish had become scarce. I was being deliberately stressed psychologically and was also deprived of my typical means of relieving stress. I was stuck in some kind of bad nervous state. It is difficult to describe -- it was a kind of raw, grating, feeling inside.

Tom Day came by with some opium one evening. We smoked some and it calmed me. Over the next several weeks we smoked opium maybe 4 or 5 times. It was enormously beneficial. I believe I was being relieved of my drug dependency. I spite of everything else that was to happen -- this was a very positive action.

Maaw was to come soon and I took a few days off to go to Thailand and accompany her. Things were okay for a short time. On several occasions. Mr. John Bates (Northrop employee) invited me to his apartment to smoke marijuana. I didn’t have anything myself, and I wanted to do it. Maaw didn’t want to go, so I didn’t go after all.

Then one evening John called me and asked me to help start his car -- someone (Tom Smerlis) had told him I had booster cables. So I took my car over. I told John I had been thinking about calling him -- he was in Personnel -- and I wanted his advice about a doctor to see about Maaw’s gynecological problems. He said to come in and smoke some hashish and we could discuss it. So I did.

John and I had been friendly acquaintances -- but all this rush of attention from him was quite out of the ordinary. Shortly later Tom Day came over. Tom remarked that he was getting a new boss. John said, “Oh, Jack!” Tom said, “No, my other boss -- at my company.” I am certain this conversation was meant to lead me to believe that they were discussing Tom’s C.I.A. boss (as well as his normal company boss).

About this time there were people being arrested and jailed for alcohol offenses. One day Mr. Maurice Torre was in Mr. Minton’s office. It was quitting time, and as I walked by, Don called me into his office. He said that, “People were talking and I should be very careful who I associated with for the next 2 or 3 weeks.” I was a little stunned. I just said okay.

I wondered what was going on. Was he telling me something specific -- or was it really just a general warning? I thought about Tom Day and John Bates -- I was certain they were C.I.A. agents. They knew everything I did. They knew I didn’t deal drugs or alcohol. -- [

[On occasion I would buy extra drugs (or alcohol) to share with friends. This was infrequent and I was careful never to make a profit. -- There is one item I would be interested to know just for personal reasons. Once I had bought 2 bottles of whiskey from Mr. Pete Alexander.

Mr. Smerlis asked me if I could get a case (12 bottles) for him.) I did so -- it cost about $800. I gave Pete the money in Saudi Riyals -- a stack of 100 Riyal notes ($30 each). He took one 100 Riyal bill and put it in my shirt pocket. I would be curious to know if I gave that 100 Riyal bill to Mr. Smerlis. If I didn’t I am almost positive that would be the only time I ever made a profit on drugs or alcohol.]

I was sure they knew I wasn’t a spy. I thought about Tom Smerlis. Whatever trouble he was in with the C.I.A. I was sure he wouldn’t get arrested. I decided I was in no danger of being arrested. Then I started thinking about Dr. Bill Mick’s (Dr. Betty Eisner’s husband) -- question to me whether I would continue to use drugs if I knew I would go to jail.

I was furious -- once again -- things started to make sense. The whole charade of Tom Smerlis -- being drunk and letting slip clues about his being a C.I.A. “hit man” -- once again to evoke and affront my feelings and fears -- real or not -- about Dr. Eisner being involved with the C.I.A. or some such agency -- and the implications of that regarding the demise of Mr. Noel Kramer.

So I didn’t heed the warning. A few days later Messrs. Celms, Robison and myself were leaving work on the way to the parking lot. Mr. Robison and I were discussing the computer-data dictionary. I had some particular theory about data and category relationships. I ended some sentence with something like: “...and you have to establish what the relationships are.” Mr. Celms interjected with: “About relationships: R.S.A.F. person knows.” Mr. Celms was not discussing the data dictionary -- he was discussing me and my personal relationships.

I had already decided what I was going to do. This only made me more angry. That evening I called Mr. Bates and asked to come over. We smoked some hashish, and I told him what had happened. He was very nonchalant about it -- very cool. We talked about other things and towards the end of the conversation I was talking about various computer projects I wanted to work on. Then I said: “I want into the system.” What I really meant was, “I want enough personal political power so I don’t have to put up with all this bull*%@&.” -- But I didn’t say that.

The next morning in the office Mr. Celms was reading from the dictionary (regular). I wish I could remember what he said -- it was quite clever -- some word or words -- some ostensible meaning -- but the real meaning was quite clear: “N-O.”

About the end of July 1982, Maaw and I had just returned from a short trip to Greece. I hadn’t had any drugs of my own for a while. If Mr. Bates or Mr. Day presented the opportunity I would smoke marijuana or hashish with them. I knew I was receiving subliminal punishment for this association. I was trying to convince myself to break my friendship with Tom. There really wasn’t a problem with John. I enjoyed his company, but I didn’t really consider him a close friend. It was different with Tom. I felt a strong friendship.

Tom had told me he would be in Thailand for a certain period of time. When Maaw and I returned from Greece I thought it would be 3 or 4 days at least before Tom would be back. I resolved to spend the time screwing up my courage and stop associating with Tom. The “project” was having its effect -- it wasn’t my choice, but I didn’t see any other solution. I started to think of how I could say to Tom -- without, of course, actually saying it, but in some code or double-talk -- “Hey -- the bull&%#@ is too much for me -- I have to stop our friendship -- at least for a while.”

They were of course already ahead of me. The first afternoon that we were back Tom called me and said he would like to stop by. This was three or four days earlier than when he had said he would be back. The surprise shattered my emotional “time schedule”. I just said okay.

Tom didn’t come by. Instead, that evening, Mr. John Bates called me and said Tom was at his apartment, and asked if I wanted to come over. I went there and we drank some wine for a while. Then we smoked some marijuana. At a particular point Tom said, “Catch-22.” “I guess I’ll be getting a new job!” I don’t remember all of the conversation, but it was clearly a hypnotic-suggestion type effort on the part of Tom and John. At one point John said, “Right about now.” My psyche and emotional state went tumbling to the depths. “Oh #%&*! Here we go again -- what’s going on?”

I continued to maintain a conversation, but I was pretty devastated by this point. Then the coup de grace: John said to me: “Why don’t you get us some cocaine?”

So it was my fault there was no cocaine. No one but Dr. Eisner and the group knew about my commitment not to use cocaine for a certain period. No one -- supposedly -- other that myself knew that I had broken that commitment. My guilt was overwhelming. I went home and wrote a letter to Dr. Eisner confessing about the broken commitment and making some oblique reference to what was happening.

The next day at the office I wasn’t finished with the letter yet and left it unsealed in my desk drawer. I was out of the office for a few minutes. Later that morning, Mr. Minton said to Mr. Robison, “Thanks for the letter Hal.” While it wasn’t specific -- I felt sure they were discussing my letter and informing me that Mr. Robison had read it and perhaps copied it.

When I went to lunch a couple of people walked in. They were joking about “smother the chicken” -- almost before they could see what was being served, and one of them made a motion with his hands like he was wringing a chicken’s neck. By this time I started to get the feeling that I was being intimidated.

Later in the afternoon I went into the computer room. Someone had keyed “/WARN” onto the master console. This was a valid computer command, but the “ENTER” button had not been pushed. No other commands could be entered into the computer until this command was either entered or erased.

I erased the command since this “/WARN” command initiated system shutdown. I felt sure that Mr. Celms had entered this command. He had been in the computer room some few minutes before. I felt certain this was another signal -- meant for me. I remarked to Mr. Celms -- that someone had keyed this command -- and it seemed a little strange to me. He just smiled. I didn’t mail the letter.

About this same time Northrop employees in the snack bar started talking about how bad drugs and alcohol are. Mr. Minton was there one lunch time. He laughed and said, “I tried to head that one off -- my name goes on that one.” I ask -- his name goes on what document? It is my certain belief that this document directs officers and agents of the United States government to embark on a project of psychological punishment more cruel than a jail sentence.

The United States government has inflicted upon me cruel and unusual punishment without due process of law. I was not given a public trial before an impartial jury of my peers; I was not informed of the nature and cause of the accusation; I was not confronted with the witnesses against me; I was not allowed compulsory process for obtaining witnesses in my favor; and I did not have Assistance of Counsel for my defense; indeed I was not allowed the circumstance to defend myself.

Additionally, an essential and basic component of the punishment project REQUIRED the abridging of my freedom of speech. An event occurred about one month later which I will relate slightly out of chronological sequence. By that time I knew there was a project in progress employing a “double-language.” I had stopped using drugs and alcohol except for home-made beer and wine.

I thought I was being “processed” for recruitment for the C.I.A. I discussed this with Mr. Robison. I told him of my belief that he (and others) were employing a purposeful “double-language” and asked whether I was being recruited for the C.I.A. He said, “Oh no! That’s crazy. You know what I think of big government.” We had been out of the office. We had lunch with a friend of Hal’s at ARAMCO. Hal told him he had had a dream that last night: “I dreamed my brain(s) oozed out of my head, onto the floor and started to walk by itself (themselves).

When we returned to the office a computer magazine had been opened to a particular page and placed on my desk. Mr. Celms and Mr. Torre were in the office. The magazine was opened to a chart matrix of different personal computers and the features they had. Mr. Celms pointed to the box for the I.B.M. personal computer and category: “languages supported”. There was only one language mentioned: “COBOL”.

John said: “See. Only one language.”

I replied: “Oh, I’m sure there’s more than one.”

John, pointing: “Look right there, there’s only one.”

Mike: “All micro computers have BASIC -- so that’s two, and I’ve seen others advertised.”

John looked directly at me and repeated: “ONE LANGUAGE!”

By then I finally figured it out. We were having a POLITICAL DISCUSSION -- one in which the dynamics of power would determine the course of the conversation rather than a supposed connection to objective reality. I was intimidated and just sat back: End-of-conversation.

A short while later Mr. Zigimond Homoki (Northrop employee) came into the office. He was asking about a particular form. It was quite common that people referred to forms, procedures, planes and persons with the term “U-SAF” and “R-SAF” -- short A -- rhymes with “gaff” or “staff” -- to specify U.S. Air Force or Royal Saudi Air Force.

Mr. Homoki referred to this particular form as “U-SAFE” -- rhymes with “you safe”. How was I supposed to interpret that? “You safe...as long as you keep your mouth shut.” That’s how it came through my fear and anger. Mr. Homoki DID NOT intimate violence. Mr. Celms said, “That form only comes out of the Pentagon.” I just said I didn’t know about it.

Mr. Homoki left the office for a minute. He came back and said, “We don’t use (or have to use) that form”. I said, “GOOD!” I just blurted it out -- hostile and provocative. Mr. Celms looked down and put his hand on his forehead, blocking sight of his face. He was probably smiling or biting his lip or something. I’m sure he was amazed.

Since I had “blown it” once again -- they escalated once again. Mr. Dave Storm -- (Northrop employee) came into the office. I can’t remember much of the conversation. He was talking about a box of computer cards or something.

The choice of words was such, that there was the deliberate, specific intention to evoke in me the fear that I could be physically hurt if I didn’t stop talking about this double-language project. Mr. Homoki did not intimate physical violence. Mr. Storm did. At the end of the conversation he said, “Now we’re not going to have any trouble with you are we Mike?” -- Deliberate intimidation to abridge my freedom of speech.

It is my firm and certain belief that these persons are officers or agents of the United States government, involved in an official and documented, but illegal and unconstitutional project of the United States government.

Another incident occurred which I cannot feel certain is part of this project, but which MIGHT BE and should be investigated. On the morning of September 25, 1982, Maaw and I left Rome on the T.W.A. flight to New York. I was reading an issue of Popular Science magazine. There was an article about subliminal conditioning.

I turned the page deliberately and carefully the same as the previous few pages. My mind was racing. “What kind of negative (subliminal) reinforcement will they give me for reading THIS?” A few minutes later I decided to read the article after all.

Not long after that the stewardess for our section sat in the seat in front of us. I think the person she “spoke” to was a steward. She said, “Well, maybe so, but I wouldn’t talk about it if I were you. Stranger things have happened.”

During this time -- the summer of 1982 -- various important events occurred. I don’t remember the exact sequence of everything. I told Maaw I wanted her to have an appointment with a doctor about her gynecological problems. She was very resistant, but finally she agreed.

We went to the Northrop clinic and had a discussion with one of the doctors. I don’t remember his name. He didn’t perform an examination, but his opinion was that Maaw probably couldn’t get pregnant without some kind of operation. He recommended that we consult a specialist. He said a thorough examination would be about the same as a minor operation.

Once again -- Maaw was extremely resistant. I wasn’t strong enough to force her to go to the second doctor. Some five or six months later we discussed her going to a doctor in Thailand for a gynecological exam. She said, “That’s what they tell me to do.” Who the *&@# is “they”? Why will she do what “they” say and not do what her husband requests. I was too intimidated to pursue the question with her at the time.

A few months after that -- just before Maaw was to leave for Thailand in March 1983 (and the medical checkup) she missed her monthly period. A home lab test and also a Northrop clinic test showed the presence of a certain hormone that is only present in pregnant women. I believed at that time, and I believe now, that this was faked.

I was afraid to say this to Maaw at the time. Any deliberate or accidental reference about the processes of this project were punished (or negatively reinforced) according to the pattern of the previously mentioned sequence of conversations with Messrs. Robison, Celms, Torre, Homoki, and Storm.

This project went on every day -- at the office, on the tennis courts, at social gatherings. Much of it I can’t remember. The process was usually much the same: A provocative subliminal (or indirect) message from one or more (and maybe ostensibly independent) sources -- observation of my reaction -- then follow-up reinforcement or punishment. THEY PLAYED ME LIKE PAVLOV’S DOG!

This harassment went on every day. Whatever happened -- in some kind of nervous reaction I would betray my knowledge of this project. Then my memory of the series of conversations with Messrs. Robison, Celms, Torre, Homoki, and Storm would evoke FEAR that I could be physically hurt.

My fear swamped me. It was with me all the time. If I went running in the evening, and a car went by I would fear -- “Have I screwed up so badly they’re going to kill me now?” Every morning when I woke up I just had fear: “Are they going to kill me today?”

There has not been any physical violence against me. The basis of this project has been to evoke that fear and use it to manipulate me.

Many times when I went running, and various times when I was outside at Khodari (Al Bilad) compound -- there was a grating “wolf whistle” -- supposedly from a bird. It is my opinion that it was a mechanical whistle, and that a person was responsible for the timing. I think the purpose was to irritate and to have a destabilizing or some conditioning effect on particular persons -- including myself. I was walking with Mr. Tom Smerlis once when the whistle occurred. He said, “I wish I could find (or get my hands on) that *&$# bird.”

About a month before I left Saudi Arabia, I was running one evening outside the compound. There was a “teddy bear” on the service road. Just as I reached it the whistle occurred. I picked up the “teddy bear” and placed it by the side of the road. I didn’t hear the whistle again until 2 or 3 days before I left Saudi Arabia.

When I first arrived in Saudi Arabia I bought a car from Mr. Robert Sheridan. He was about to leave Saudi Arabia. With the car he gave me various household items -- including several bottles of alcohol and an electrical converter. There was a mix of 110 and 220 volt power sources and appliances in the compounds. He told me the converter came from the office and various computer people used them. I have no idea whether this was another setup. It was to have unfortunate consequences.

In the spring of 1982 Northrop had a “property review.” They scheduled appointments with everyone to inventory furniture. (It was a commonly held opinion that these inspections were held for the purpose of looking for “stills” for the manufacture of illegal alcohol.)

When I left the office Mr. Celms remarked to another person in the office, “They’re going to check to see if Mike has any Peace Hawk property.” The converter was Peace Hawk property. When I got home I put it in a box and put it away with some personal items. When the inspectors came -- nothing happened. They didn’t see it. It wasn’t a full shake-down. They were just letting me know they were “tightening the screws”.

Sometime in June 1982, Mr. Tom Smerlis was about to leave Saudi Arabia. He gave me some house-hold items including a nice, heavy extension cord. Also he left a sack of things that I discovered later had a hash pipe. I believe it was the next day, Maaw said she wanted to go out to the beach -- at 2 p.m. -- not “this afternoon when we get to it -- but exactly 2 p.m. So we did.

When we returned, Mr. Minton was in the parking lot (with another man). He gave me a big grin and waved. Because of the timing and the exact expression on Don’s face -- I felt he had possibly gone into our apartment. I don’t know this, but I feel certain that the episode was meant to let me know that he knew what I had. I didn’t have any drugs, but the hash pipe had residue. Later I cleaned it thoroughly and threw it away.

Not long after this, Mr. Minton and I were setting up some computer equipment. It needed some wiring. He had a heavy extension cord similar to the one Mr. Smerlis had left me. Don said he could just cut off one end. I said, “Don’t ruin a good extension cord like that. He said, “That’s all right -- I have another one.” The tone of his voice, the facial expression, the grin, made me feel that he was referring to the cord Mr. Smerlis left. (He had told me it had come from another compound.)

So they were “pricking” my guilt. I started to worry about the “semi-hot” television set. There was something that was really wrong and illegal -- receiving stolen property. I had once told Mr. Smerlis I was stupid to have accepted the television set. I wondered if he had told them about it.

Then it slowly started to dawn on me. Tom hadn’t had to have told them. They knew anyway. Mr. Keith Kaser was part of this project. It was all a big, elaborate entrapment. The alcohol, the drugs, the “stolen” property -- all to get power over people -- to manipulate and coerce and pressure, and subtly let the person there is a way out -- go to work for the C.I.A.

I didn’t think all this through at the time. I was furious and devastated. I decided I would pretend to work on the television, then “pretend” to “accidentally” break the circuit board so I would have an excuse to throw it away. After a while I decided that I could lie to everybody else, but I wasn’t going to lie to my wife. I don’t know if this was noble, or whether I was just angry at her for participating in this illegal C.I.A. project.

It wasn’t until 6 or 8 months later that they really put the screws to me for this -- after Maaw had “faked” her pregnancy and was leaving Saudi Arabia the final time for Thailand.

About this time we had been introduced to Jim and Pat Hubbard. Jim worked for I.B.M. There were a number of complicated themes in this project at this particular time. Maaw and I had gone to their home one evening. We were discussing our upcoming trip around the world.

As the conversation came to something in particular -- (I don’t remember exactly what it was -- possibly visiting my grandparents) -- something I was being neurotic about -- I just stopped talking. There was a lull in the conversation. Jim went to the kitchen for a new kind of snack -- it was peanuts or something.

A few minutes later the conversation came back to the same subject. At a point where I might have been expected to say something I reached for the peanuts instead. Under his breath Jim said -- “That’s bad for you.” So it became another task to avoid the peanuts when anything “sensitive” was being discussed.

Their next door neighbor Bob (I don’t remember his last name) came over later. He offered me a cigarette. I said no. He said, “I sure wish I had a reason to stop smoking. Then a minute later he said the same thing -- “I sure wish I had a reason to stop smoking.” -- Clearly referring to me and my smoking marijuana. I had stopped smoking marijuana at this point.

The purpose and effect of all this is to establish dominance. They know all about -- subtly establish neurotic linkages -- refer to those linkages in an effort to evoke some neurotic response -- a hesitation or some slip or “misspeak”.

Part of this included subliminal or indirect references to my family -- including deliberate inference that money was being extorted from my family to pay for my neurotic behavior. I don’t remember if it was this particular day at the office -- Mr. Maurice Torre walked into my office and said: “Hop-a-long” -- completely without context -- except in reference to this project.

This was a reference to my grandfather who had lost a leg. It was about the time that he lost the other leg below the knee. Again, I don’t remember the exact time. But once again -- a deliberate attempt on the part of the government of the United States to cause an emotional link in my mind between my behavior -- my stressed neurotic slips -- and other sensitive emotional subjects -- in this case the loss and suffering of my grandfather.

Another common “trick” was to manipulate the heating in the computer room. One day it was too hot. In the distance there was something that made me think of Maaw -- if I remember Mr. Minton made a telephone call that was -- I believe -- clearly for my “benefit”. Shortly later he came into the computer room and said, “Don’t call about the A/C -- I’ve already taken care of it.”

His mood was angry and defiant -- I had been neurotic and waited too long -- somebody would have to pay for this project. -- Who? -- My wife. How could she pay -- by *&$#@#$ someone. The government of the United States deliberately evoked those feelings or fears in me. Do a real investigation. Find out the whole thing.

Indeed later on -- some months later on -- if I remember about the beginning of 1983 on two or three occasions, Maaw said to me, “I’ve been *$#@$&* another man.” Each time -- later, she said it wasn’t true -- she only said it to make me angry. I once demanded of her -- “Who’s telling you to do this? Tell them to go to #*&@. Tell them to come to me. -- What is all the bull*&#@ about?”

She was utterly disdainful -- with fear and contempt she said, “They’ll come to you.” Meaning -- I’m doing this, and I’m protecting you. -- How can you be so stupid?” What do we have in our government -- a bunch of %#@-*&%#ed hoodlums -- who sucker and entrap, then intimidate and extort. Where is the protection of the Constitution of the United States?

In the summer of 1982 we wanted to move to a two bedroom apartment in Khodari (Al Bilad) compound. Once in the office I telephoned the housing office. Mr. Celms was in the office and overheard the conversation. He laughed sarcastically and said, “Good luck!” Other times Mr. Celms and Mr. Robison would tell me there were open houses at the Al Gosaibi compound.

We wanted a bigger place, but wanted to stay at Khodari -- they were clearly suggesting we should move to Gosaibi -- for some reason. There had even been an official policy to move married couples from one-bedroom to two-bedroom apartments at Khodari, but every month there was some reason why we couldn’t move.

On our vacation I was having a conversation with Dr. Eisner (alone). For no particular reason she asked about my car. I had a big four-wheeled drive truck-like-car with a big enclosed trunk area. She said, “Lots of room for carting boxes and things.” I said yes. Then she muttered under her breath, “I think you have to move.”

What is this? Why was this move so important? By what means did Dr. Eisner obtain this kind of information? This to me is proof positive that my former psycho-therapist was (or is) involved in an illegal and unconstitutional C.I.A.-type project. The therapist-patient relationship has to be the most sacrosanct professional relationship of our society. Why and by what means is her involvement?

Other members of the health care and so-called “psychic” community are involved. Just before I went to Saudi Arabia -- group member Mrs. Maria Grove said to me: “Saudi is an entry point.” I thought she meant this in a “psychic” sense. I was perplexed and somewhat upset by this. I know now -- this was the “dis-ease” of cognitive dissonance.

I mentioned this statement to Mr. John Lodge, an associate of the group who specialized in deep body massage. He many times in the past had psychic explanations for things and exhibited “psychic” knowledge or such. He merely said, “What does it mean to you.”

Shortly after this in another conversation, he said to me, “Don’t lose your protection.” I thought he meant “psychic protection”. Now I know he meant “political protection”. Where is the political protection of the Constitution of the United States of America? WHERE THE $%*@ IS THE POLITICAL PROTECTION OF THE CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA!!!???

I had been “taking lessons” from (or working with) an “art therapist” -- ..... ............ If I remember she had been referred to me by Mr. Lodge. I was once working with modeling clay. She said to me -- “A friend of mine who is psychic asked me about (or if) a client was working with modeling clay. She said it was very important work.” While I believed all these “psychic” things, somehow it disturbed me -- again -- I now know -- it was the “dis-ease” of cognitive dissonance.

And again -- just before I went to Saudi Arabia -- and after the conversation with Mr. Lodge -- I took Mrs. ........... to lunch. We were discussing psychic events or happenings. She said there was something big, something special going on in Saudi Arabia, “...as you know.” Psychically? -- No, politically, “...as I know”, now.

Not long after my experience in 1976 when I “heard a voice speaking to me”, Mr. John Lodge recommended I have an appointment with Dr. Bella Karish -- a noted “psychic”. Mr. Kramer’s death occurred about this time. I can’t remember if the death was before or after the conversation with Mr. Lodge.

I think perhaps it was just before, but I can’t remember. The “reading” was after Mr. Kramer’s demise. The “reading” was interesting enough. More interesting was her comment to Dr. Eisner who had accompanied me. Dr. Eisner had stated she was a psychologist. Dr. Karish said, “Yes, that’s a good “cover” for other activities.”

That seemed to have some impact on Dr. Eisner for half an instant -- a little perturbation perhaps. This disturbed me somehow -- though very slightly -- not the statement -- but it’s (perceived) impact on Dr. Eisner. I thought -- “So what -- so she is involved in psychic activities.”

Now I know. This was a reference to some kind of secret government activities -- research psychological experimentation I am sure. I have suffered enormous mental and emotional pain as a result of this project. What are my rights? What are the patient’s rights in this “most sacrosanct” professional relationship -- the psycho-therapist -- patient relationship? What are the rights of the “guinea pig” in the government’s psychological experimentation?

One particular day -- I don’t remember when -- in Saudi Arabia -- Mr. Celms was reading a local newspaper. He said to me: “How’d you like to work in Camarillo? -- with no pretext. “I took it as deliberate threat. I am certain it was intended to have an unsettling effect on me. Camarillo, California is the location of a mental hospital.

I stammered out some reply -- I don’t remember exactly what I said -- it didn’t matter -- he had established dominance through deliberate intimidation. Then he read from the newspaper. -- Some Saudi Air Force personnel were training at a Northrop facility near Camarillo. A joke -- light conversation. But the real message was clear -- in the context of deliberate psychological stress -- the message was intimidation.

This indirect, subliminal stressing took place every day. Let me repeat -- IT TOOK PLACE EVERY DAY!!! Do a real investigation. Get my complete intelligence agencies file and review it for violations of my civil and constitutional rights.

Maaw and I took an around the world trip beginning the end of September 1982. On Sunday morning about 7 a.m. we took a T.W.A. flight from Amarillo, Texas to Los Angeles. There was a couple in the seats in front of us.

The woman was about 35, the man about 45. She said to him, “Come on, don’t be an ass hole. What color eyes does -- (some name) -- have? He has YELLOW eyes.” I am certain this was meant to unsettle me -- to threaten me that this could happen to me -- being forced and intimidated to accept an impossible reality.

[[[ Is this completely correct? When I wrote this, I was thinking about the “colored part” of the eyes”. Do Orientals perhaps have “yellow” in what would be considered “the white part of the eyes” of Caucasians? -- m.e. March 1996 ]]]

Various things happened in California. I knew there would be a ton of bull#%&@. Long before we left on the trip Maaw was resistant to visiting California. She said, “I don’t like your friends in California.” -- long before I had told her anything other than show her some pictures of trips and some home pictures -- certainly not enough information for her to form a hostile opinion.

Another time I started to tell her, “the SURFACE story” of Mr. Kramer’s demise. She stopped me and said, “You just have to keep that inside yourself.” Obviously she had been coached about this. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t pursue what I believed to be the truth -- that there was some kind of C.I.A. involvement. I was afraid. I had been intimidated by Mr. Storm’s threat.

The first day we were in California, (Santa Monica), Maaw wanted to take a walk along the beach. I took a nap. She said to come down by the beach to find her. Later I went down to the pier and somewhat later along the sidewalk above the beach, but never down by the water.

I was afraid. I don’t understand why. It didn’t actually occur to me consciously -- but I think I knew it was a trick or trap of some kind. I went to the hotel several times hoping she would come back there. We were to attend a party given by the group for us.

I called and said we would be late -- I couldn’t find Maaw, and I was going to look for her. I finally found her in a bar having a drink with some man. I pulled her up by her arm, and after a scene got her back to the hotel. When I finally got her to the party, she was angry, drunk and hostile.

At the party things were more or less okay. At one point Charlotte Lancaster said to me: “You’ve certainly chosen a difficult path. DID YOU KNOW?” That was a multi-layered question if I ever heard one. “DID I KNOW?” Did I know what? Did I know my wife was involved with the C.I.A., and that I would suffer this kind of bull#$&*? That was the real question. She got me. I was angry and hostile. I just blurted out: “I could have guessed.”

The next day Maaw wanted some breakfast and after some confusion she said she wanted to go down by the pier. There was a place there she had seen. We parked and walked there. As we walked, Mr. Jim Behreins and two other men walked by. As we passed, Jim pointed at the bar (from the previous evening), and said, “Who told him he could do that?” What was the purpose of this?

Back in Saudi Arabia many other interesting events took place. I don’t remember the exact timing of many of them.

There was a black man who came by the office once. I don’t remember his name. He said he worked for some company -- Litton or Page or something, “...and some other people”. He was talking with Mr. Celms. He said one of the things he was doing was checking out the incident at the ammo dump.

I had no doubt this was a reference to the story Mr. Salazar had told me, which I relayed to Dr. Eisner (all more than a year previously). I was in and out of the office. At one point Mr. Celms said, “National Security.” -- “Let’s see if that one still works.”

Another time in the office I asked Mr. Celms and Mr. Robison about where to get vacuum cleaner bags -- whether Northrop provided them. They didn’t know. I just said, “I’ll ask THE neighbor.” Not “A neighbor”, or “ONE of the neighbors”, but a terrible mis-speak because “THE neighbor” I knew was Maaw’s “contact”.

When I got home Maaw said she had a rash and needed to go to the doctor. It was hardly a rash at all -- but some light and very ordinary bumps on her arm and maybe some on her stomach. But, I was too fearful to argue. When we went to the doctor (at the Northrop Clinic) he gave her some pills.

On the way home she started reading the “information sheet” -- “...for 3 to 5 years...”. I knew this was my “sentence”. It is my certain belief that there is some kind of secret “justice” system inside the C.I.A. So I could expect 3 to 5 years of “subliminal harassment”. No informing me of my rights, of the charges against me, no public trial, no right to a defense -- just cruel and unusual punishment.

I wasn’t going to accept that without a protest. I said, -- that’s for children.” So she escalated -- “6 to 14 years”. So once more I was intimidated. It was clear she wasn’t just telling me the instructions about the pills for herself -- an adult. What was next -- “15 to life”?

The tennis court was a favorite place for this harassment to take place. Once Maaw and I were playing tennis. Mr. Peter Thorpe said “to his opponent”, “If it comes down I’ll do it.” Not, “If you hit the ball down the side I’ll hit it back.”, but -- “...IF IT COMES DOWN...”.

This is a favorite expression of the C.I.A.-types. I think it probably means something like, “...if the orders come down...”. And “...I’LL DO IT.” What does that mean? Do what? Punishment of some kind? Maybe murder? So I’d better shape up? Stop being neurotic? Admit and accept that the C.I.A has dominance over my life? Otherwise, here is someone who “...would do it...” (or maybe even would want to) -- punish me -- murder me?

Another time on the tennis court, Maaw and I were playing. Mrs. Jackie Lonagon was on the court next to us. She said (not “to” anyone in particular) “I’ll take the widow.” A deliberate mis-speak. Who is the widow? Maaw? Not, “I’ll take the winner (of some match).”, but deliberate intimidation.

Another time Maaw and I were playing tennis. She was deliberately mis-counting the score. Maaw hit a good shot which won her the point. Mrs. Lonagon was in the next court. She said, “Mike, are you going to let her get away with that?” This was supposedly about the good shot, but certainly it was about Maaw’s mis-counting the score.

In retrospect I also think it was about the “contrived” pregnancy -- which hadn’t occurred yet, but was to happen soon afterwards. There were other things that Mrs. Lonagon (and others) said that time on the tennis court. This and other times people would say things -- indirect, subliminal references to something that had emotional significance to me -- then see if I missed the next shot. Mr. Maurice Torre did this on occasion.

This particular day there was a pretty heavy dose of that sort of thing. In the middle of the game, Maaw got so angry she quit playing, and we went home. I asked her what she was doing making a big scene and leaving in the middle of a game. She swung her tennis racket at me. Then banged it on the floor. Then later she said, “Because they were talking. Okay?” I knew. I didn’t dare pursue the conversation.

Another little “mind-&$#*” trick they did was to have Maaw paint ONE fingernail with red nail polish. I ignored it at first, but she kept doing things that irritated me. I asked her about the nail polish.

She said it was none of my business -- she could do what she wanted to do. Then later she picked up a letter I had received from the Democratic National Committee. She said, “What’s this? What do you send these people money for?” I was furious and got the bottle of nail polish remover and removed the nail polish from her fingernail, myself.

What was the purpose of this -- other that harassment and degradation? The next day I was in the office with Mr. Celms. He did something like -- (I don’t remember exactly) -- spend a long time cleaning ONE fingernail -- corresponding to the finger nail that Maaw had put the nail polish on.

I knew there was some trick going on. I knew that what I was “supposed” to do was to control myself and not let slip anything that would betray my knowledge of this project. I went on with my work. Then a few minutes later, involuntarily I started scratching my fingernail -- the corresponding finger of course. Once again I “blew it”.

Another time on the tennis court -- Dellie Clark was near Maaw and me. Someone hit a hard shot -- she said -- ostensibly about the tennis shot -- “That’s punishment or behavior modification (or negative reinforcement).” I feel certain her statement was intended to be punishment or negative reinforcement for me.

There was a time in the office that was “interesting”. Mr. Robison had left for the day. His office was next to Mr. Celms’ and mine. Mr. Robison’s phone started ringing. It rang for a very long time. I kept hoping it would stop. Finally I walked into his office to answer the phone. It stopped ringing at that moment. I remarked to Mr. Celms -- “That phone sure rang a long time. I would have thought someone would have given up sooner.”

He said, “It rang five minutes.” Five bloody minutes. Obviously, Mr. Celms was timing it. I presume they were taking a “stress” or “irritation” level reading. I knew I’d been had -- once again. A few minutes later the phone started ringing again. I waited for about 6 or 8 rings then went to answer it. Just as I reached for the phone it stopped ringing. Mr. Celms laughed and said, “See, that’s all you have to do.”

I ask the Congress, and specifically I ask the Chairman of the Subcommittee on Civil and Constitutional Rights: “DOES THE CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED STATES PROTECT ME FROM BEING TREATED LIKE PAVLOV’S DOG???!!!

What is the source of these illegal orders? What is the responsibility of those persons who carry out these illegal orders? It is my firm and certain belief that these persons acted “in the name of” the President of the United States.

Either the President knew or should have known of these orders. Not to have known constitutes malfeasance of office. Failure to preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States is the highest crime a President can commit. The Constitution has a remedy for high crimes and misdemeanors: impeachment. The Committee on the Judiciary of the House of Representatives is the proper place to begin an inquiry into malfeasance of office.

I believe and recommend that the Chairperson of the Subcommittee on Civil and Constitutional Rights, Committee on the Judiciary should be an ex-officio member of the Select Committee on Intelligence. I further recommend, indeed I demand for the sake of the Constitution, that every intelligence and covert agency of the government of the United States should be required to report to the Select Committee on Intelligence, the involvement or effect of every project on each and every American citizen so affected.

There was an interesting conversation in the office in the summer or fall of 1982. Mr. Robison and Mr. Celms were discussing a book about a K.G.B. murder. Hal said, “It’s a story about a policeman in Moscow.” John said, “How do you investigate a murder in Moscow?...VERY CAREFULLY.”

This agitated me. I knew [ believed ] this was intended to be a message for me. What was the message? It evoked my fear and uncertainty about the nature of Dr., Betty Eisner’s relationship with the United States government and what, if any, effect that might have had on the demise of Mr. Noel Kramer. I tried to repress any reaction, but presumably I failed. In a low voice, barely audible, one said, “That’s it.” The other replied, “Uh hum”. (Yes.) “That’s it.”

There is another item that should be investigated. On (or perhaps for) New Year’s Day, 1983, there was a flashy preview on ARAMCO (Arabian American Oil Company) television. There were flashy, geometric designs, then an ad or preview of -- I believe the World Series games.

The next day there was some discussion in the snack bar about the “ball game”. I said I had seen “...the preview of the football...uh...baseball game.” Was my confusion just my own -- or had there perhaps been some subliminal message in this flashy “ad” for the purpose of psychological experimentation. I can’t say that I believe that this is true, but I think it might be true and should be investigated.

There is other evidence that there is a secret “justice” system of the United States government -- separate from the Constitution. The implication is enormously disturbing.

At one particular time -- I think it was about the end of 1982 -- Mr. Torre was in Mr. Minton’s office. He said, “Maybe he’ll get a parole -- time off for good behavior.” (He could have been discussing a Northrop person in jail for an alcohol offense.)

I think this statement was intended for me to hear. I’ve never heard of “parole” in Saudi Arabia. You were in jail for a certain length of time, and maybe you got out early if the King declared a general amnesty which sometimes happened at the time of certain religious celebrations.

I had never heard of “parole” before. In any case I certainly hoped it was for me. This subliminal harassment was very painful to me -- day, after day, after day. I repeat once again -- EVERY DAY-this project continued. I dearly hoped it was going to stop.

Sometime after that -- maybe several weeks or more -- I can’t remember the timing -- Mr. Celms was reading a newspaper. He said, “Ah! Your favorite president.” I said, “It better be.” Meaning this had better not be another joke. This was out of character for me. Mr. Celms frequently told “mediocre” jokes, many times weaving in surprises of subliminal conditioning for me. I usually just went along with the joke -- matter of factly. For some reason I was angry about this one from the very beginning.

The next day I overheard Mr. Minton say: “They’re talking “pardon”.” I was listening. It had an impact on me. Later I was talking to someone on the phone. I couldn’t hear something they said. I said, “Pardon?”. Not, “Excuse me.” which I usually would say. A little later -- just before I turned on the news someone in the hall said, “What’s the news? -- What’s happening?”. Mr. Minton replied, “I think he already knows.”

When I turned on the news the first item was Jimmy Carter meeting with King Fahad. I thought of President Carter’s pardon of the Viet Nam War era draft resisters. Then I remembered the sarcastic remark of the official at the Amarillo draft center: “...we’ve been wondering what to do about your case.” Is this what they are doing about my case? Harassing me for ten or twelve years?

I remembered a conversation with Dr. Bill Micks about cosmic consciousness and the “purpose” of life on Earth. He said, “This is like prison.” Dr. Eisner said, “I think it is to learn cause and effect.” Was the therapy group interaction an “official” psychological prison -- to teach me cause and effect -- for taking advantage of a loophole in the law?

I demand to know the nature of the relationship between my therapist and the United States government. Did she have some responsibility to incorporate into my therapy program punishment or behavior modification for my “offense” of “frame of mind”? For taking my rights under the law of the United States of America?

Well, I was furious and stunned and devastated. How much of this is true? If I needed a pardon for breaking the laws of Saudi Arabia -- all of which was made possible or provoked by agents of the government of the United States -- the King could do that himself. That didn’t require Jimmy Carter’s help.

They wanted me [ I felt ] to accept Jimmy Carter’s pardon and to accept psychological guilt for being a “draft dodger”. NO WAY! I beat the draft fair and square and legal. “I will not accept a pardon for that. You’re the people who need a pardon -- for violating the Constitution of the United States.” Of course I was too afraid to say anything. Whatever the little psychological tasks for that day were, I made *&#@ed sure I *$%#ed it up. It was the only way I could communicate.

A day or so later, Mr. Minton said loudly in his office: “They never should have had the loophole.” Well, Don, that may be right. Maybe they shouldn’t have. That loophole was put into the law so the sons of the rich and powerful wouldn’t have to go kill and be killed. Maybe if more of them had been dying the war would have been over sooner.

I had ordered some Murietta Mineral Salts to be sent to Saudi Arabia. I used this for a relaxing mineral bath. These mineral salts were the same as had been used in Mr. Kramer’s fatal therapy session (along with the drug ritalin).

The day they arrived at the “post office” at Northrop (before I knew they had arrived) Maaw called me -- she was with her friend Kim -- the wife of Saul Moore -- the Northrop personnel person in charge of passports and visas. She asked me to come to Gosaibi -- the (recreation center and location of the “post office”). When I got there she was drunk, loud and obnoxious. I am quite certain the purpose of this was to embarrass me.

I mentioned this incident to Dr. Betty Eisner about early May 1983. A grating rasping sound started just as I told that story. Dr. Eisner said, “We have a rat.” Her husband, Dr. Bill Micks was in the next room I expect, listening and activating some device. They had rigged up a cute little trick for me. When I started to tell a C.I.A. secret they let me know they had a rat.

There were other little tricks with Mr. Moore’s wife. She used to provide Maaw with sideeki -- home brew 100% alcohol, and also ham -- which is also illegal in Saudi Arabia. Maaw was making my lunch for me every day. She kept “pushing me” to have a ham sandwich at the office. I knew it was a trick, and I said no.

She became furious and threw a tantrum. In a day or two I was outside on the steps back of the office building -- having a beef sandwich. A Saudi Air Force member walked by -- looked down at my sandwich and said -- “Hi, Mike! What’s that?” I said: “It’s a sandwich.”

For several years I had been working on the mathematical formulas to predict the Moslem prayer times. They are based on the position of the sun, which is predictable by standard astronomical means. I had some difficulty with one of the formulas. I worked on it off and on for some time. I had discussed the idea of making a wrist watch with a computer chip that would tell the prayer times. I had discussed this with numerous people.

After all the bull#$&* became obvious to me I tried to put it out of my mind. Unfortunately, this wasn’t possible. Mr. Robison and Mr. Celms kept needling me about it. It was insane to consider pursuing this.

There had been little hints that they were getting ready to “lower the boom” about the television set. But, I was a fool. I asked and R.S.A.F. person if he could help me pursue this. He told me it would probably go nowhere. That afternoon as I entered Khodari (Al Bilad) compound -- two Northrop employees backed out of a parking place -- blocking my way. I don’t know their names. The man not driving held up a clenched fist.

What was this supposed to mean? I was quite frightened. I interpreted it to mean that the only way I could advance the watch project was to “rat” on the drug people.

This same person several days later pulled up behind me very fast in the Safeway parking lot. I feel certain this was a continuation of the intimidation. He owned a white Camaro and very frequently parked it outside the regular parking spots, restricting, though not blocking, exit from that portion of the Al Bilad (Khodari) parking lot.

Some time later in the office -- an R.S.A.F. person, Mr. Maurice Torre, and Mr. Herb ??? (I’ve forgotten his last name) came into my office. The R.S.A.F. person started a “joke”. He pointed his finger at me and said, “Your money or your life.” I was startled. Before I could say anything, Mr. Torre said, “Heh, heh! Take my life. Then I held out my empty palm and said, “Take my money.” Then Herb said, “Okay.” The next day I went to each of the persons and said I didn’t appreciate jokes which intimate violence.

Some few days later some other R.S.A.F. members -- all of whom I had positive, friendly relations with -- came and asked me a mathematical puzzle -- in which someone “steals” from another, pays it back and through a mis-understanding -- one dollar (or riyal) gets lost. I tried but I flubbed it.

Another time -- someone came into the office with red ink stain on his hand. I became physically ill and went home for two days.

I deeply apologize to the Saudi Arabians and others -- the NON-AMERICANS -- who I believe acted out of friendship. I never thought they would actually cut off my hand. There had been an article in the newspaper explaining this was only done when breaking and entering was involved, and the amount stolen was so high. These conditions did not apply in my case. Nevertheless, I was deeply emotionally traumatized.

I cannot accept guilt or punishment for something I was entrapped and tricked into doing by agents of the United States government. There is a deeply established legal tradition in the United States prohibiting officers from engaging in this activity. IT IS TO PROTECT US FROM TYRANNY! Non-Americans might not understand that. Americans DO understand that.

Then there is the issue of Maaw’s “pregnancy” so-called. It is my opinion that she is not pregnant. She had never used contraceptives. She told me she and her first husband had sex 4 times a week. She never got pregnant. This “pregnancy” began at the same time the “theft” projects were in progress at the office. I think she was paying me back for telling her the truth about the television set.

I got a drug store kit to test for a certain hormone -- indicating pregnancy. The instructions showed a picture of the test tube of a positive result. It had a small thin red circle at the bottom. Her test was positive -- it had a thick, prominent red circle. It is my opinion that someone gave her some of this hormone to ingest. Since this would probably be a concentrated amount -- the test would show a prominent, distinctive, positive result. I suspect that Mr. Moore’s wife gave this to her.

I have to consider the possibility that she went to a doctor (in Saudi Arabia) to have a simple operation (without my knowledge) to allow her to get pregnant. Maybe the only trickery was her refusal at the beginning of our marriage to consult a specialist about contraceptives. I believe there is much more than that.

I mentioned to Mr. Minton that Maaw might be pregnant, I had urged her to have an abortion -- and we might get divorced. Maaw had agreed to a divorce and an abortion if I gave her $10,000. Mr. Minton said, “Well, maybe it is just an emotional problem.” (A reference to Dr. Betty Eisner?) “Maybe you two can just talk it out.”

I related this to Maaw. I mis-spoke and said, “If you want to talk...” She replied angrily and forcefully: “He doesn’t give me money!” Then a second later, “He’s not my husband.”

That night I couldn’t sleep. I went into the living room and was (quietly) beating and yelling into a towel to relieve my anger and frustration. Maaw got up and saw me. She said, “What’s the matter? Can’t get anyone to carry water for you?”

Various things happened about this time. Mr. Pat ???? (I don’t remember his last name) -- at the Northrop Post Office had several times said things I thought were part of this project. Once he said, “Sometimes it takes several years for guys to get out of the trouble they get into at the beginning.”

What was the purpose of this statement? It re-informed my opinion that the stolen property incident(s), and also the drugs and alcohol are deliberate entrapments on the part of the C.I.A. to sucker, manipulate and control American citizens, with the ultimate aim of recruiting agents.

Just one or two days before Maaw left, a very interesting sequence of events occurred. In the morning Mr. Minton said something about a computer project. I had the feeling there was a double-meaning, with reference to me. He said, “That was from the ‘Puzzle Palace’. Though I’m not supposed to know that”. A little later an R.S.A.F. person came in and said, “do you have $100?

That immediately made me think of Maaw. I was going to give her $4000 for some medical and dental work, and a few other things when she left for Thailand. She was very insistent on cash (which would be $100 bills). I had felt very uneasy about it -- afraid it could be stolen, and also thinking that it could be extorted -- for payoffs of some kind.

Sometime earlier (maybe a week or so) another R.S.A.F. person had asked me “jokingly” -- “When are you going to send John (Mr. Celms) to Congress?” This same person had asked me (about February or March or so of 1982) if I had ever been in the military. I wasn’t considering (at that time) that some big project was in progress, and I didn’t censor my answer. I just laughed and said, “They never got me!”

In the afternoon I had called I.B.M. for help with a technical problem. A different person that usual called back. Mr. Celms took the call. He said to me: “Hatfield called. He said you’d better be the real McCoy.” In such a context I thought instead of McGovern-Hatfield -- and their amendment to end the war in Viet Nam. When I called the I.B.M. technician -- Mr. Hatfield -- we had a long technical discussion. There was background noise. I was sure there was subliminal conditioning going on. All of this made me very agitated.

When I went home I told Maaw that I would give her a little cash and a cashiers check (from an American bank). She was livid. She said I was trying to steal her money and on and on. She started throwing kitchen glasses at my feet -- smashing them. After a while I grabbed her arms and slapped her perhaps 6 or 8 times. I didn’t hurt her by any means.

She slapped me back. I slapped her about 2 or 3 times more. Then she picked up a butcher knife and threatened me with it. She didn’t attack me. I moved against her and took the knife away from her -- cutting my finger to the bone in the process. This caused a bit of blood but no real damage. I only had to wear a band-aid for four or five days.

That night I dreamed a re-enactment of an auto accident when I was less that five, in which my leg was broken. I woke up in pain and terror as I dreamed the impact and breaking of the bone. The pain was real.

I received a bank statement that had another person’s cancelled check: “mistakenly” included. It was made to Mau Sung -- as in “Maaw sung”? I was afraid this was some kind of trap. I resolved to carefully return it to the bank. I didn’t copy it or anything because I was sure I was being spied on, and I didn’t want to betray that I thought this was part of the project.

Well, I really blew it. My bank branch (Santa Monica Bank) is in Marina del Rey, but I mailed the check with the Marina del Rey address, but to city Santa Monica. I was in an enormously agitated state by this point. But this is amazing. Has the C.I.A. infiltrated Santa Monica Bank?

After Maaw had gone I thought many times about what I believed to be a fake pregnancy -- and my belief that no matter what I did the C.I.A. was going to screw me to the wall as hard as they could. I’ve always been very good with children, and I want children of my own. But not this way. Not when it is (would be) just another tool -- for the C.I.A. -- through my wife and others -- to pressure me to conform to their mold. This cognitive dissonance evoked impotent, frustrated anger. The mental pain was truly enormous. I would lie on the bed with a pillow and scream in pain. I use the word deliberately -- real pain.

I went to Thailand about the end of April, 1983. On the way a strong emotion came over me. I expected Maaw to give me a divorce if I would “forget” her. I said to myself -- “No way!” I’m not going to subject myself to the kind of subliminal punishment that would be inflicted on me for abandoning my “pregnant” wife. Because then I could never know the truth and be at risk for a paternity suit later on.

In fact that’s what happened. I said, “No, if you’re really pregnant I’ll help you. Later that afternoon I panicked. I said to myself, “Don’t be a fool! Get a divorce.” By then it was too late. The price had just gone up to $30,000. I had already given her about $25,000 for one year of marriage -- including gifts for her family and some gold. $30,000 would wipe and my savings and require me to give her most of my upcoming bonus in the fall.

We had been to her doctor -- “Dr. Somkiat, T.” in Pattaya Beach. He affirmed that she was pregnant. I didn’t believe it, but I was feeling desperate, and I agreed to go to the United States and get all my money for her.

When I arrived in California I called my parents and also Dr. Eisner. I asked Dr. Eisner if I could come see her. I told her that Maaw said she was pregnant, her doctor said she was pregnant, and that I was going to give her $30,000 for a divorce.

The next day I called from my hotel. Her husband, Dr. Bill Micks answered the phone. He had a message for me. He said they thought Maaw wasn’t pregnant and more money was extortion. This was my opinion of course, but I hadn’t spoken it directly.

When I saw Dr. Eisner she repeated this. This was also the conversation that the “sound of rats gnawing” started when I spoke a “C.I.A.” secret. At the end of the conversation, Dr. Eisner told me if I really wanted to stay with Maaw -- to go back to Saudi Arabia and ignore her.

When I left I just couldn’t stand it. I’m a very tolerant person. My list of sins against other persons is enormously small. I decided I would go to Washington D.C. and complain to the Congress.

I visited my parents for a few days. I only told them I thought Maaw was faking the pregnancy.

That has been about 5 months now. It has been enormously difficult to write all this. Much of the time I have been paralyzed by fear. For a while I was sending telegrams to Mr. Minton saying I would be delayed returning to work.

After a month or so I was fired. I had called and found this out. I talked to Mr. Minton also, later. He said they had called all over trying to find me -- they didn’t know where I was. This is a trick of some kind. The telegrams stated Washington D.C. Did he not receive those telegrams.?

Various things have happened that I felt were a continuation of this project. One thing that disturbed me especially was what happened at Sibley Memorial Hospital in Washington, D.C. I worked there for about a month in the data processing department. Various things happened “project-wise” in my opinion. It was mostly low key. I just “shined it on”.

My boss -- Ms. Lorraine Fordham -- showed me some of the computer system capabilities. She asked me to write down a patient’s computer reference number. It was for Frank Reynolds. I started getting suspicious. I recalled my improper access of G.T.E. data. Now there was new physical evidence -- a piece of paper with Frank Reynolds i.d. number in my hand writing. The probabilities were starting to add up. She told me he had cancer and hepatitis.

The next day my office-mate said, “Here’s an interesting case -- operating room charge, but no recovery room charge. I think you (general or me specifically?) just died.” I carefully replied, “Maybe “the person” died, maybe it was something else.”

That night on the television news it was revealed that Frank Reynolds had died. The next day my office-mate asked if I knew Frank Reynolds had died. I said it had been on the news. He wanted to know what diseases had been mentioned on the news. I said I thought it said cancer and hepatitis, but I wasn’t sure. Then I told him Lorraine had told me the diseases, and I couldn’t remember exactly what had been on the news.

I was still in my C.I.A. frame of mind. I didn’t need to know the specific information, but the computer people have to have access to the data to make the computer work. It is my opinion that some of the Sibley people were involved in advancing this “C.I.A.-type” project.

I had told Sibley Hospital that I would have to take a couple of weeks off to resolve my marriage -- divorce presumably. About two days before I was to leave I was talking with Ms. Fordham. She half stuck her tongue out. She had a square piece of white paper on her tongue.

The same thing happened the next day. (The second day the paper had little jagged edges, but it was about the same size.) The probability that she DID NOT have knowledge, WAS NOT involved in this C.I.A. conditioning project had just dropped into statistical insignificance. I believe that this has a connection to Mr. Tom Day.

Mr. Day and I had taken L.S.D. together several times -- in 1980 and 1981. It was in the form of square white blotter paper. On occasion one or the other of us would stick out his tongue to show a square white blotter paper. It was a good laugh, and the other person might then also take some L.S.D. When Mr. Day returned to Saudi Arabia in 1982, he was very insistent that I give him my resume. I finally did so. It is my belief that this information came to Sibley Hospital. I didn’t return to work after that.

Is there a C.I.A.-type secret society entrenched in civilian American situations? Is this secret society taking over computer centers, civilian communications (G.T.E.), hospitals? What is the nature of the psychological conditioning in various companies. How much are C.I.A. information and “spy” techniques used in ordinary civilian situations?

This seems incredible and unbelievable to me. How much of it is true? Is business and government embarking on a program of psychological harassment and conditioning to punish and “direct” people without regard to constitutional rights? What happens to our concept of individual freedom? Painful subliminal conditioning can have the effect of denying a person their freedom without due process of law.

Beyond this, the law itself must be changed so that nothing is considered illegal except violation of another person’s rights. We can still have traffic lights -- my driving through a red light would deprive someone else of their right to safely travel through a green light. The government cannot enforce the majority’s opinion of morality on the individual’s private behavior without establishing an “efficient” totalitarian system to invade everyone’s privacy.

In the first place it won’t work. When I was growing up in “dry” West Texas, people used to say, “When the bootleggers and the preachers get together, it’s hard to beat them.” The only real effect the law had was to make it easier for youngsters to get alcohol -- since the bootleggers would sell to anyone.

There should be a government monopoly to sell drugs -- including alcohol and tobacco -- to adults. The person should be required to fit their car with a “reaction-test” device that would not permit them to drive while intoxicated. The person should be taught various safety facts and otherwise be unencumbered. If a person becomes drug dependent they can be helped -- rather than be afraid to seek help because of the illegality.

Prostitution, gambling, and pornography should be handled similarly. It is not possible, and the government should not try to regulate personal, private morality. The only result is an enormous crime industry that uses the law to make 80 to 100 BILLION DOLLARS A YEAR -- PROFIT AND TAX FREE!!! This money buys police and customs officials, lawmakers and judges. The corrupting influence of these so called “morality laws” has been enormous. Get the government out of people’s private lives.

There is another folk-saying I heard in Texas. “Your freedom ends where my nose begins.” What this means is that you aren’t supposed to punch me in the nose. It also means, if I want to put cocaine up my nose, it is none of your *&$% business.

Look at the pervasive spread of drugs and corruption in our society. The profit motive and supply and demand work their wonders. There is tremendous profit to be made in the drug trade. Heroin addicts steal to support their habit at grossly inflated prices. Impurities and unexpectedly strong doses cause most of the overdose deaths. Sports and entertainment figures that use drugs can be extorted. The profits have to be laundered so criminals infiltrate legitimate businesses and drive their law-abiding competitors out of business.

You in the Congress know that much of this is true. You must have the political courage to tell the unpleasant truth. I’ve seen enough to lend credence to the rumors that the C.I.A. is involved in drug trafficking throughout the world. Perhaps this is a technique to corrupt, intimidate and coerce local public officials. I don’t think this is the best America has to offer.

In my particular case -- do a real investigation. I have my weaknesses, stupidities, misplaced (perhaps) stubbornness. I don’t deserve what has happened. What has happened to me should never happen to anyone, ever again.

My best regards. Sincerely,

Michael Egger