09-24-2006, 07:06 PM
July 9, 2004
REPORT ON TODD BRENDAN FAHEY
This document will serve as my formal statement regarding Todd Brendan Fahey. I am writing this report for my own legal and civil protection and that of my family members, who were visiting during the period of time while Mr. Fahey was a guest in my home and who were subjected to and witnessed some of the events described herein. This report will not be sent out to any e-mail lists and is COPYRIGHTED. No part of this document may be reproduced or published with out express permission from the author, Barbara Hartwell.
EJECTED ON THE 4TH OF JULY
Bottom line first: Todd Fahey had to be ejected from my property on July 4, 2004 when I called for police assistance after he repeatedly disregarded my directive to leave, following an ongoing series of events in which he violated my privacy and security; engaged in drunk and disorderly conduct, also related to his abuse of drugs; and other intrusive and disruptive behavior which caused severe emotional distress for me and my family; and which culminated in a threat of violence to my brother, saying that he would "not leave peaceably".
INCIDENT ON JULY 6
Two days later, on July 6, after having been told not to contact me again (he was given permission only to make a phone call to my brother, on a business matter which my brother had been kind enough to assist him with) Mr. Fahey made a series of harassing phone calls to me. He left several phone messages on my answering machine, saying he needed to talk to me (about issues which I had no obligation whatsoever to discuss with him) and in the last of such messages, threatened to take a cab to my home if I did not answer his calls; but left no phone number where he could be contacted. When I got the number from which the call was made, I learned that it was a bar in Old Orchard Beach called The Whaler, located at 20 Staples St. which is less than one (1) mile from my home in Ocean Park. I was able to determine, when my brother made a phone call to the number (207-934-9853) that Todd Fahey had been drinking in this bar; that he had been discussing certain issues relating to me and my family with the bartender, which included telling lies and making slanderous comments about us to the bartender and patrons of the establishment; and that he had just gotten into a cab and was on his way to my home. I also learned that he had violated my privacy and security by publicly giving out the street address of my home (which is not available in any public records, phone directories or elsewhere, by my own directive, for security purposes) along with my name. I had called the police when I received the last phone call, asking them to send a car over to my home. I made a second call when I learned that Fahey was on his way here. A third 911 call was made when I saw the cab from an upstairs window and witnessed Todd Fahey getting out of the cab and standing in the street in front of my residence, where he stood in the street and lit a cigarette.
The police arrived a few minutes later. One officer (one of the two who had answered the 911 call to eject Fahey from my home on July 4) came to my door and the other officer stayed in the street talking to Todd Fahey. I made it clear once again to the officer that I wanted no further contact with Fahey and that I did not intend to have any further dealings with him, nor was I obligated to do so, no matter what claims Fahey was making to the police (such as alleging that I owed him money; or that I was responsible for personally delivering a computer to him, sent by his parents to my PO box.) I told the officer that I knew the law: Any more phone calls made to me would be regarded as harassment and I asked the officer to please relay this message to Fahey. The officer, aware of this law, agreed to deliver the message. I explained that if Mr. Fahey set foot upon my property again, I would call 911 and the same would happen if he should disregard my directive not to call my number again. I made it clear that as many such incidents might occur, that each incident would be followed by a call to 911.
I also told the officer that if even one more incident were to occur, I would seek an order of protection from the court in Biddeford, Maine, as I had reason to be concerned for my safety because of Fahey's harassment; his bizarre behavior, apparently at least in part due to drug and alcohol abuse; his total lack of respect for my privacy and security; and what I now considered to be stalking. The officer told me that no crime had been committed, to which I answered, No, not yet...that is what I want to avoid, which is why I called you people in the first place. There are no stalking laws in the state of Maine, according to the officer. He even said that if Todd Fahey chose to stand across the street, staring at my house, no law would be broken and there was nothing the police could do about it. So I told him that if he and his fellow officers refused to take my concerns seriously, I might need to get a bodyguard to protect my home and my property from further intrusions.
I must surmise that Todd Fahey was (or still is) in a motel somewhere near this bar, The Whaler, from which he made the calls, which is less than a mile from my home. Based on the disruptive behavior I was subjected to; and on the fact that Fahey actually had the audacity to take a cab to my address, after refusing to leave and being ejected from my home by the police on July 4, that it is possible he will continue to harass me until he has left the area or until such time as he is arrested, certainly another possibility, considering his abuse of drugs (which I had explained to the police, on both occasions they were called to my home) and his recent track record of being involved in altercations which led to several arrests.
TIME LINE OF EVENTS
Mr. Fahey was first invited to my home in April 2004, after I learned, from a report he published on one of his websites, Friends of Liberty, that he had been ejected from South Korea and fired from his job as an English teacher. At that time, I had known Todd Fahey for almost three (3) years, through e-mail correspondence, and I considered him a friend. I considered him a friend because I believed, during this period of time, from 2001 until July 2004, that he held the same basic Christian and patriotic values as myself: namely, those of individual rights as bestowed by God; and being a defender of the Constitution of the United States of America. I based my belief about Todd Fahey on his published articles which seemed consistent in defending these principles, which are the most important principles in my life, excepting none.
But from what I have witnessed and experienced, considering all the violations of my own rights to privacy and security in my own home, I now have had to radically reassess my opinion of Todd Fahey. He has proven himself to me and to my family, to be anything BUT a defender of individual rights or of the U.S. Constitution. His behavior is more like that of a communist, or a criminal anarchist, as he displays no respect whatsoever for the personal boundaries or privacy of individuals, nor for the private property of individuals, something which will become increasingly clear by the incidents described in this report.
Todd Fahey did accept my offer to stay at my home in June 2004, but only AFTER he was arrested for what I understood to be the second or third time, and deported from Thailand. He later claimed in his public reports that he was badly beaten in a series of incidents, after the last of which he said he ended up in a Thai prison hospital for 11 days. I am basing all allegations in this report (those for which I do not have direct knowledge or evidence) on the previous written and verbal testimony of Todd Fahey. However, it is important that I state up front that I now have good reason to doubt the veracity of ANY and ALL claims made by Mr. Fahey, past or present, as he has shown himself to be inconsistent and contradictory in many of his statements and claims; as on numerous occasions he has told outright falsehoods, lying to me and my family members; and has also borne false witness against me, some of which is slanderous and very damaging and will be included in this report. In fact, Mr. Fahey has shown himself to be nothing less than a pathological liar. The purpose of this particular report is not to address or verify the truth about the incidents Fahey may have been involved in while living in Southeast Asia, as I am no longer concerned about these incidents; but rather only to establish facts about the events which took place during the period of time between June 14 and July 4, 2004, during which time Fahey was a guest in my home.
Following are the series of events which transpired, beginning on June 12 and ending on July 4.
I received an e-mail from Todd on Saturday, June 12, asking if my invitation was still open to him and also stating that he was in a dire emergency situation, had been arrested again and was now being deported from Thailand, back to the U.S. and had no other place to go. I e-mailed back telling him that he could come to my home. He arrived in the late afternoon on Monday June 14 and I picked him up at the Old Orchard Beach train station.
I had not been informed, until I spoke with Todd on the phone (while he was in transit from New York City, after arriving on the plane from Thailand) that he had been injured again, this time so badly that he needed extensive medical care. Being seriously disabled myself, as well as financially destitute, I was not equipped to provide the type of assistance which Todd Fahey was apparently in need of. I had initially offered him only a safe place to stay after he was ejected from South Korea (before any of the arrests or physical altercations had taken place, according to Fahey) and had made it clear in advance that although I would be glad to help him by providing him sanctuary, that I could reasonably do no more. Certainly, I expected that anyone staying in my home would also be willing to help me with normal household chores. I had also told him I would not ask him for any rent but that he could stay here as my guest, as long as he was able to cover his own living expenses. But once he arrived here, despite the extreme nature of his injuries and generally poor condition, since I am a Christian, I was not about to turn my back on someone I considered a friend and so did all in my power to help him in any way I could. I also still believed at that time that he was a trustworthy and honorable individual, worthy of my efforts to assist him, which I later learned to my great dismay that he is not.
On Thursday, June 17, I drove him to the emergency room at Biddeford hospital. I had to insist that he go to the hospital, since he said he had not received proper medical treatment at the prison hospital in Thailand. I could see that he had a serious injury (a deep flesh wound) on one leg on which there were stitches, and which appeared to be badly inflamed. Although he expressed ambivalence about going to the hospital for medical treatment, I insisted upon it because I felt it was my duty to do so; and because as a friend I was extremely worried about his well-being. I was also told by Todd that he had suffered severe head injuries, including broken jaws, a broken nose, a total of eleven (11) broken bones and other trauma in his head. Though I could see no evidence of such injuries (no swelling, no black eyes, no cuts or facial contusions) I took him at his word. I could not tell by looking at him how serious these injuries were, but I am not a medical doctor; and at that time I had no good reason to doubt what he told me. I attributed his incoherent and slurred speech and obvious disorientation to these head injuries, but soon concluded that his constant use of drugs and alcohol must be at least contributing factors, regardless of the nature of these injuries; and that the drugs and alcohol had exacerbated his condition.
At the emergency room, Todd was seen and initially treated by a Dr. Webster, who prescribed painkillers (Vykadin) and oral antibiotics. He at first lied to the emergency room personnel, claiming that a "motorcycle accident" which he described in great detail, had been the reason for all his injuries. He had told the same story to me, on more than one occasion, in such a convincing way that it seemed to be the truth. He later changed his story to some of the doctors (citing the beatings by thugs and Thai police as the true reason for his injuries) and at different times had told both stories to me, leaving me confused as to what the truth really was, since there were inconsistencies in the various versions of these stories, which changed with each recital; as well as discrepancies in the time-frames and sequences of events he mentioned. But it began to be clear to me that Todd was either a very skilled liar (pathological or not) or was having trouble distinguishing fantasy from reality; possibly a combination of both. To this day, I don't know what the truth is, but after the living hell Todd Fahey put me and my family through, I must say I no longer care.
He was referred to several other doctors, specialists for his various injuries, whose names and phone numbers for out-patient treatment were provided on a sheet of paper on the first emergency room visit by the attending physician. I agreed to be temporarily designated as his "caretaker" as I would be the one driving him to all the medical appointments; because he seemed incapable of taking care of himself; and because he was staying at my home.
Shortly after arriving here, he told me his plan was to search for another foreign teaching position, possibly even to go back to South Korea, the first country from which he had been ejected. He said he "hated the United States", had not lived here for seven (7) years; and that he could not find work here, which was why he had left the U.S. to relocate in Southeast Asia. He also made this same statement to a friend and professional colleague of mine, ex-FBI agent Geral Sosbee of Brownsville, Texas, whom he spoke to on the phone in the first few days after arriving at my home. I mention Mr. Sosbee only as he is a witness to Todd Fahey's stated intent to leave my home and find a job overseas as soon as possible, after he was able to recover from the worst of his injuries. But from what I witnessed, Fahey did not make a priority of his own recovery; on the contrary, his main concern seemed to be getting high off his large supply of drugs and drinking until he became totally incoherent.
At the time of my initial invitation to Todd in April, I had said he would be welcome to stay for as long as he wanted to; though at that time I was not aware that Todd Fahey had a serious problem with alcoholism and drug abuse; nor that he was untrustworthy and a pathological liar; but which I subsequently realized made him extremely difficult to deal with; which made him a security risk in my home; and a threat to my well-being and peace of mind, as well as to the safety of myself and any family members staying at my home. In fact, after Fahey was finally ejected by the police, I realized, to my horror, that he had left several deep cigarette burns on the mattress in the room in which he had been sleeping, which could have resulted in my house being set on fire.
Todd Fahey was told by several doctors that he was not allowed the use of alcohol, due to the daily intravenous antibiotic treatments he needed to prevent gangrene and the possible loss of his leg. According to Todd, one doctor, a surgeon named Dr. Georgitis, told him he was facing possible "death" if his leg were to become infected to the bone marrow. Todd ignored the doctors' recommendations and warnings and insisted on drinking large quantities of red wine every day. When I questioned the advisability of this, he claimed that red wine was good for his health. I normally keep several bottles of wine in a rack in the house; but Todd Fahey cleaned out my entire supply (including some good Bordeaux given to me as a gift, which I had been saving for a special occasion) in only a few days time, after which he asked me to make daily drives to the market so he could buy more wine.
I told him that it was not my place to tell him what to do, and at first I did not realize that he was an alcoholic; not until I saw that he would keep drinking until all the wine in a bottle was gone; would guzzle an entire glass at a time; and would often open another bottle if there were one available; and until I realized that he would often stay up all night drinking, long after I had gone upstairs to sleep. His general behavior, including "grandiosity" and denial of his self-created problems; and his slurred speech also were signs of alcoholism. In addition to his abuse of alcohol, he had many bottles and plastic bags of drugs in the form of pills which he was using, which were stored in a canvas bag. I was amazed at this large supply of drugs and asked him how he got these drugs on the plane and he told me that was no problem, as he had prescriptions for them all. These drugs, according to Fahey, included Prozac; Xanax; Valium and others I had never heard of. He even offered me some of these drugs, but I made it clear to him that I do not use drugs unless needed for medical reasons, when prescribed by a doctor. At a later time, he contradicted himself and told me he did NOT have prescriptions for these drugs, since in South Korea they were all available "over the counter". I do not consider it my business what drugs someone decides to take; nor would I presume to police a person's activities; so, not knowing what the truth was, I asked no further questions regarding these drugs. However, it WAS my business that Todd Fahey began to cause serious disruptions in my home, at least in part as a result of his consumption of large quantities of alcohol in conjunction with the drugs.
Meanwhile, I was driving him for daily visits to the hospital to receive physical therapy and other medical treatments. Hospital personnel can verify this fact as I spoke to them in person almost daily and was in the room during some of the treatments, such as the intravenous antibiotic and the whirlpool cleansing for his leg.
I had explained to Todd early on (and reminded him more than once, when necessary) that I myself am seriously disabled; due to a heart condition and various other forms of chronic illness; that I had been diagnosed 100% disabled by a medical doctor, though I am not eligible for disability benefits from the government and have no health insurance. I had told him that the daily driving back and forth from the hospital (the drive is 50 minutes, round trip) and the hours of waiting around while he received these treatments were taking a serious toll on my own health. Normally, I lead a quiet life and my driving is limited to a few trips out to the store (a ten-minute drive from my home) in the course of a week. But in order to do what was required to help Todd recover from his injuries, I had to strain myself in ways which caused me to become exhausted and ever-more-seriously ill. Still, I was willing to help him as much as I could, since I cared for him as a friend and because I am a Christian. Yet, he made casual dismissals, such as that "a lot of people have that illness " (not true); as if the state of my health should not be cause for concern. On one occasion, he actually accused me of "self pity".
Todd had told me more than once, repeating this over and over, especially during the "crying jags" brought on by excessive alcohol consumption, that he was more or less alienated from his parents and had not seen them in the seven (7) years since he had left the country to live in Southeast Asia. He had also told me that during his time in college, he was forced by his parents to go to a rehab center for six months of out-patient treatment, due to alcoholism. He said he was not welcome to go to his parents' home to recover from his injuries, except for a period of up to two weeks. He also expressed concern about his parents finding out that he was still drinking, as he had denied this fact over the years in his communications with them. I had spoken to his mother, Darlene Fahey, on the phone several times, both before and after Todd arrived in Maine. She repeatedly expressed her gratitude to me for helping Todd and giving him a safe place to stay while he recovered from his injuries.
His parents said they would cover the expenses for Todd's medical care; and also that they would be sending money to me to cover some living expenses for Todd, amounting to $500.00 per month for up to three (3) months, should he stay that long. Darlene Fahey at first sent a check made out to me for $500.00. I do not have a bank account, so I asked my son if he could deposit the check in his account and cash it. I told Todd I would give the money to him, as I did not want to receive any money for putting him up at my home; I only asked that he cover his own living expenses while he was here. As it happened, that did not take place. Although Todd gave me small sums of money here and there, what he provided did not begin to cover his expenses and what little money I had was used up paying for gas, food, medical supplies and other expenses I would not have normally incurred. Destruction to my property (and petty theft of some of my possessions, such as clothing, non-prescription drugs and other personal items) also occurred.
In addition to the daily driving back and forth to the hospital, during his stay at my home, I extended every kindness and courtesy to Todd Fahey. I cleaned up after him and even waited on him, because at first I deemed him too badly injured to do most things for himself. In fact, I would not allow him to do any lifting, even when he offered, because I was concerned about his broken ribs and wrist. ( I myself have a serious sprain to my right arm and wrist, which happened last November, but due to lack of medical insurance, I was unable to get the physical therapy I needed to heal the condition, which to this day is painful, increasing my pre-existing disability.)
I listened patiently for hours to his many complaints; to his tales of woe about being brutalized in Southeast Asia; to his stories about his past, which he repeated many times, apparently unaware, due to his drug-and-drink-induced stupor, that he had told the same stories over and over. He also imposed on the kindness of my family members, my son, my brother and my nephew, repeating his tall tales (many of which seemed highly suspect to them) over and over. In the course of their interactions with Todd Fahey, they all formed the same basic opinion: He is a degenerate alcoholic with no concern for the needs or wishes of anyone but himself. My son actually described him as a "freak"; and I later learned that he had given Todd a warning on the first night he met him. My son had stayed up late with Todd, drinking beer with him and, out of concern for his mother (he has always been protective of me) made an attempt to find out more about the man who was a guest in his mother's home. At one point my son said to Todd: I don't know much about you, but you better be careful not to ever mess with my Mom.
During the 3 weeks of his stay in my home, Todd Fahey showed little consideration for me, seemingly expecting me to serve as a combination chauffeur/babysitter/caretaker. He took almost no responsibility for his own recovery, expecting me to be responsible for making all his appointments and seeing that he got there on time. This took up most of my time, day after day. He never gave me a penny for gas, on which I was forced to spend much of the little money I had left. He cancelled appointments and then blamed the hospital personnel for what he called the "confusion". In fact, any "confusion" was entirely on his part, in my opinion caused mostly by his abuse of drugs and alcohol.
One day, while Todd was addressing a group of doctors and nurses at the hospital, he tried to rationalize his own irresponsibility (caused by the drinking binges and drugs) with his "confusion" theory. At that point, I had heard enough of this nonsense. I said, No, there is no "confusion" here, not at this hospital, nor among the personnel. The fact of the matter is that Todd never made the calls to the doctor, though he was given the name and number days ago. I then later told him, I'm through with this. If you want medical care, you'll have to make your own appointments and be responsible for keeping them, since I'm now exhausted; and being disabled, even under the best of circumstances, I can barely take care of myself.
Shortly thereafter, he had an appointment at the trauma clinic for his head injuries at a medical center in Portland. I had explained well in advance that I could NOT drive in any inner-city area, due to my disabilities, which include being blind in one eye. I told Todd he would need to find out the location of the clinic; and to find public transportation, or to check to see if the hospital provided such transportation for patients. Instead of making these phone calls, he spent the day before the appointment "recovering" from one of his drunken binges the night before. I was forced to get up at 7 AM to call the medical center myself, and was told that IF Todd had called in advance (as he was supposed to have done) they could have made sure he had transportation. The appointment had to be cancelled, for the second time. And instead of apologizing to me for his irresponsibility, he tried to talk me into driving him there myself. When I repeated that I was unable to do that, he acted as if this were the first time he had heard this and refused to accept any responsibility for his own actions, namely the drinking and drug abuse, which I pointed out to him, once again, were causing tremendous stress in my life and disruption in my home.
Since Todd told me he'd had his eye glasses broken by a punch to the face in Thailand, I had loaned him a pair of my own, not the correct prescription for him, but which allowed him at least some improvement in his vision until he could get another pair. He broke my glasses in one of his drunken episodes, having dropped them on the floor where they became lodged under the leg of a coffee table, badly twisting the frames; yet continued to wear them for days after that. I finally had to insist that I drive him to the optometrist in South Portland so he could get his own prescription, since I needed my own glasses repaired and for my own use. I also had to loan him the money to get his glasses, as he said he was short of cash. I insisted on making the loan, only because I knew it was the only way he would be able to make no more excuses for not taking care of the situation. But in the days following, I realized that he had a considerable supply of cash, which he had brought with him, and which he spent mostly on large bottles of wine; and which could have easily covered the cost of his glasses with plenty to spare. On the day before he was ejected from my home by the police, I asked him to repay this loan, as I was now down to my last few dollars. He actually gave me a hard time about it, trying to manipulate me into waiting for the money until the check his mother had made out to me cleared and he had the money in his hands. He finally (grudgingly) gave me the money, only after I repeated several times: I need my money from you and I need it now, after explaining that the matter was non-negotiable.
I had even allowed him the use of my personal computer (though he said he'd brought a laptop with him, which he said "might not work properly") because he said he needed to update and maintain nine (9) websites which he owned. He would sit at my computer for hours, and I would later have to clean up daily spills of red wine to my desk top; several cloth blotters on my desk were ruined and had to be disposed of. He left empty wine glasses, coffee cups and ashtrays, all filled with wine-soaked cigarette butts, in various areas of the house, also a daily chore that was left to me to clean up.
One day, I discovered that Todd had actually used MY e-mail account to send e-mails, though I knew he had several e-mail accounts of his own. I had told him up front that he could use my computer for Internet access, but that my e-mail program was private and NOT to be accessed. Being outraged, this was where I drew the line. I told him, once again, that my e-mail account was PRIVATE and that as a result of his violation of my privacy and breach of my security, he would not be allowed to use my computer again. In fact, I told him at this time that the upstairs portion of my home, where my office, my bedroom; my private bath and several other rooms are located, would be off limits to him, as I needed some privacy, which I'd had little of since he arrived.
I had already suffered such things as knocks on my bedroom door at 6 AM, when he said was having a "panic attack" after drinking all night non-stop; threats to "commit suicide" if I left a room and did not stay to listen to more of his complaints and sob stories; and many incidents of a similar nature. He at times believed I was someone else. He had called me "Iris" on one occasion (whom I later learned was the name of a former girlfriend in South Korea) and thought I was "Charlie" on another. I was suffering from sleep deprivation and worsening disability. I became so ill and exhausted that I felt as if I would have a total collapse. I have no medical insurance, so I have to be vigilant and take care of my health as best I can.
Two days after I had told Todd that he could no longer use my computer, I came home from a drive with my brother in the afternoon and went upstairs to find Todd sitting at my computer, drinking wine. I was amazed at his effrontery and his blatant disregard for my wishes. I asked him what the hell he was doing, since I had made it very clear that he was NOT to use my computer again. He said he needed to look for a job and asked why it was a problem. I had already explained that he had violated my privacy and that I did not trust him to be on my private computer, so I said only that I did not intend to explain further, that he needed to immediately get off the computer. He stayed put and kept typing (while sloshing wine from his glass and dropping cigarette ashes on the desk) then asked, What's the big deal ?.... nobody was here, nobody else was using it. His attitude was clearly that he was entitled to the run of my house; to use or take anything he wanted, whenever it suited him, with no regard for my wishes; my privacy or my personal boundaries, which I had clearly outlined on more than one occasion. I told him that he had crossed my line; that the issue was non-negotiable; and that I did not intend to explain myself to him further.
On the day before this episode with my computer, Thursday, July 1, the day my brother arrived for a vacation with his son, at 2:30 PM, Todd had stumbled out of the guest room into the living room, where I was sitting with my brother and nephew. He did not bother to introduce himself and said nothing to me, but addressed the following comment to my relatives: "You caught me on a rare occasion. I have a blistering hangover." He proceeded to stumble into the bathroom and then back through the living room and kitchen into the bedroom where he was sleeping and stayed in bed for the rest of the day, only emerging again very late that night. By this time, I had made a point of making sure there was no wine in the house, because I'd had enough of the drunken binges and hangovers. It was certainly NOT a "rare occasion" but rather, a DAILY occasion for him to drink himself into a stupor and spend the next day "recovering" from his hangovers.
I had reached the limits of my tolerance for Todd Fahey's inconsiderate and intrusive behavior and his violations of my privacy, as well as for the drunken episodes, and I was no longer willing to drive him around nor to tolerate even one more disturbance in my home. I told him on that day that he would have to leave because he was causing serious disruption and a breach of security in my home; and that I myself was on the verge of collapsing from stress and exhaustion due to sleep deprivation and over-extending myself doing chores of which I was not capable.
At this point he again tried to manipulate me by insisting that I had told him he could stay as long as he wanted to, and actually seemed to believe that I was obligated to allow him to do anything he wanted to do; and to stay in my home for as long as it suited him, draining my scant resources and taking advantage of my kindness and Christian charity. By this time I realized beyond a doubt that the man is clearly out of touch with reality; has no moral or ethical standards; and apparently has no understanding of even the legal rights of others. He behaved like a sociopath, as if the world revolved around him; and as if no one existed except HIMSELF. He seemed to believe it was HIS right to stay in my home, where I had made it clear, with good reason, he was no longer welcome. I explained that I'd had no idea when I made the invitation to him the stress and trauma I would be subjected to; and that I was simply not willing or able to tolerate any more of this totally unacceptable and unconscionable behavior, which had also become a serious problem for my family. I told him it was a non-negotiable issue. I explained that I had done all I could for him, but that I was NOT responsible for him and that he would simply have to find somewhere else to go; and that his problems were his own, brought on by himself, and had nothing to do with me.
On July 4, Todd asked my brother if he could use his computer, since he was no longer allowed to use mine. I had changed my password to protect my security, since Todd had proved himself to be untrustworthy. My brother had kindly allowed Todd to use his laptop the day before. At that time, I politely told Todd that I had noticed that he had not plugged my phone line back in downstairs, after using the computer. I explained that the line he was using was where I received all calls and that I could not afford to miss phone calls on my answering machine. He became hostile, raising his voice, and said he would not be falsely accused of something he had not done.
In fact, Todd had a habit of denying anything wrongful, unacceptable, inappropriate or negligent he had done, when confronted with it. Either he denied it, or tried to make excuses for his unacceptable/inappropriate behavior. Or, tried to blame it on someone else. But the fact is, he had NOT plugged the phone line back in. He even went so far as to accuse my cats of having ripped the plug out of the wall, clearly an absurd notion. I cut him off and simply I told him, once again, that I refused to argue with him. In any case, most of the time he did not seem to hear anything that was said to him; did not remember (or claimed he did not); or simply disregarded what was said and just did whatever he felt like doing, despite the consequences to me or my family. My brother at this point had also had enough of the rude, manipulative and disruptive behavior, deciding he would not be a party to any more of Todd's melodramas and nonsense. He removed his laptop from Todd's reach, placed it in its case and took it back upstairs.
I told Todd on that day, July 4, that he would have to leave immediately. I offered to drive him to the train station in Old Orchard Beach and even said I would give him the last money I had (about $100.00) so he could pay his train fare. His parents had wired him more money by Western Union only a few days before (he did not tell me how much, although he had described it to my brother as a "large sum") and I did not yet have the money from the first check from Todd's mother, as my son had to wait for it to clear before it could be cashed. Todd now said he was worried that I would not give him the money from the check, although I had assured him I would. He said he refused to leave until he had his money; something I had no control over.
By this time I was so angry and outraged that I told him: You will be leaving here today. You will get your money as soon as I have it, all you need to do is contact me by phone or e-mail and leave a message telling me where to send it. He then tried to start an argument with me. Again, I refused to argue. I repeated that it was a non-negotiable issue: This is my home and you are going to leave here today. Period. I do not owe you any further explanation. If you have not listened or chosen to disregard my wishes, I will no longer allow that to be my problem. But you will be leaving here today.
I had noticed, just an hour before, that there was an empty vodka bottle in the garbage, which had been sitting up on a shelf in the kitchen since Christmas, brought by guests who visited my home for the holidays. There was also a large bottle of rum on this shelf which had also had been, for many months, about one third full, which I saw was now nearly empty. Todd Fahey had, on that day, wiped out the last of all the liquor in my home. He had tried to recruit my brother as a procurer of alcohol, since his arrival, asking him to pick up several bottles of wine for him. My brother refused, as he had witnessed the drunken episodes and like myself, had been subjected to the consequences of Todd's irrational, disrespectful and obnoxious behavior.
Todd's behavior at the point he was told he must leave, became completely irrational and insufferable. First, he told me, "This is NOT your home". I had no idea what he was talking about, as it certainly IS my home, where I am the only legal resident and where I have been living for over a year. I refused to engage him in an argument, though he was now taunting me and trying to bait me by repeating this line over and over. I said only that, Yes this IS my home. You have no legal right to be here and I am telling you to leave immediately. He refused to leave and continued trying to argue with me, which I refused to do, and with more taunting and irrational statements, which I ignored. I simply repeated to him: You must leave now.
He again refused, continuing with his attempts to argue, which I ignored. Finally, he uttered a falsehood which came as such a shock, to both me and my brother, who had been standing there silently witnessing the whole drunken and drugged-up ranting, that it finally proved to us both that Todd Fahey was either totally insane or else devoid of any scruples whatsoever. He now claimed, in a drunken outburst, that he and I had been "sleeping together". When I heard this, what little patience I had left was replaced with total outrage at this final indignity; this gross insult and injustice. I told him that he must have finally lost his mind, to be making such outrageous claims, and that if he did not leave immediately, I would call the police and have him ejected. He refused to leave, just continued to rant and accused me of being a liar.
I was not about to stand there in my own home and listen to another word from this lunatic, so I went into the guest room he had been using, right off the kitchen, and grabbed his bags, one by one (further injuring my sprained wrist in the process) and hauled them out into the yard. I came back into the house and said, This is your last chance to leave this house before I call the police. He taunted me further by repeating his various insults and told me to go ahead and call the police. It was clear by this time that he was trying to provoke my brother (and possibly me) into a physical altercation by his insults and lies about me, but fortunately my brother exercised restraint and good judgment and did not take the bait. I must admit, though I felt like punching his lights out and breaking a few more of his bones, I too restrained myself, though I was shaking with rage. I just wanted this degenerate, alcoholic sleaze bag out of my home and off my property.
Todd started ranting about being in the Thai jail and bragging about how tough he was, saying he did not mind being arrested again. So I called the police and told them that I needed them to come and remove this man from my home. After I called the police, Todd tried to enter the living room from the kitchen where he had been standing during the whole time, carrying on with his drunken rantings. But my brother blocked the doorway and said he would not be allowed to come any further into the house. Todd said he needed to get a cigarette, though there were no cigarettes belonging to him in that room. I had taken Todd's pack of Camels from the guest room and thrown them out onto the lawn, along with his bags. At that point, Todd threatened my brother and said "I will not leave here peaceably". My brother quietly warned him that he was messing with the wrong man and Todd backed off, but repeating that he would "not leave peaceably".
After calling the police, I left the house by the front porch door and went outside to wait for them. When I saw the cruiser pull up, I walked around to the back yard, where Todd was now seated on the back door steps, ranting to one of the officers, claiming that, "This is NOT her home !...it belongs to a man named Jack Knowles." (This is another lie. I have never heard of a man by that name and even if he exists, he certainly does not own my home.) I walked up to the officer, and ignoring Todd's rantings, said, Officer, please remove this man from my property immediately. I explained that it was indeed MY HOME; that Todd Fahey had been staying here as a guest but when directed to leave, due to his many violations and disruptive behavior, had refused, making threats that he would not leave peaceably.
Todd was still ranting, non-stop, his speech badly slurred from the vodka and rum he had polished off, claiming he had a right to tell his side of the story. He claimed I owed him money, which I had refused to give him; repeated that this was NOT my home and that he had been invited to stay here for as long as he wanted to. He said he "had the e-mails to prove it". Again, I ignored the ranting and repeated to the officer, Please remove this man from my property. He has no legal right to be here; in fact he has no rights here at all, at least NOT ON MY PROPERTY. I said if the officers wanted to hear what Todd Fahey had to say, they could escort him OFF my property and he could tell his "story" out on the public road.
The officer now said he needed to hear Todd's story, since he wanted to be sure there was no "criminal matter" involved, since Todd had claimed I owed him money, misrepresenting the true nature of the situation, as had been his habit for as long as I'd had the misfortune to be in his company. I told the officer that I would not listen to any more "stories" and lies from this drugged-up drunk, and that there was no "criminal matter" to address . I said that if Todd Fahey would be told to be quiet, I would tell the officer ONLY the basic relevant facts, only what he needed to know, to establish that I was innocent of any criminal acts. I explained that Todd's mother had sent a check for $500.00, made out in MY name, NOT his, which was intended for me to use to cover Todd's expenses while he was staying at my home. I also explained that I had REFUSED to accept the money from Todd's mother and that I intended to give the money to Todd, as I had promised him I would, as soon as the check cleared in my son's bank account and was given to me by my son.
Now, my brother, who was also out in the yard, had heard enough lies, false accusations and gibberish from Todd Fahey. He told the officer: My sister saved this man's life. She took him into her home after he was arrested and deported from Thailand, when he was badly beaten and gave him a place to stay. He has repaid her kindness with abusive treatment and creating disruption in her home. He has threatened me that he would not leave peaceably, which is why my sister called you. In response to my brother's remarks, Todd said nothing, but just looked down at the ground. (Perhaps, in a moment of clarity, he remembered that he himself had thanked me for "saving his life", which I attributed to God, not to myself.)
I said to the officer, I'm through here, please just get this man off my property. I went back into the house, but at this point, decided that I would give Todd some money, toward the $500.00 from his mother's check, as a show of good faith and because I did not know if he had enough money to find a temporary lodging or pay train fare to another location. Even after all that he had put us through, my brother and I (as Christians) were still concerned enough about Todd to attempt to help him leave town under the least problematic circumstances.
I gave Todd $60.00, about half of what I had, and said to the officers that in the presence of three (3) witnesses (two officers and my brother) I was giving Todd this money as a show of good faith and that I would get the rest of the money from his mother's check to him as soon as I had it from my son, just as I had promised, and had always intended to do.
My brother did even more to help Todd, going out of his way, which he was not required to do. He called my son and asked if he could wire the money (minus the $60.00 and any charges for Western Union) directly to Todd. My son agreed to this and said that as soon as the bank reopened on Tuesday and the check cleared, he would wire the money directly to Todd.
I should make it very clear that none of us were required to do ANYTHING at that point to help Todd Fahey. If I were not an ethical person, I could have just kept the money from Todd's mother, despite my promise to give it to Todd, since the check was made out to me and intended for me. It certainly would have been well within my rights to keep the money, as the sum of $500.00 does not begin to cover what it cost me during the three weeks Todd was at my home , including the money I spent on food; gas to drive him to the hospital visits; medical supplies; wine and cigarettes. Including the damaged, destroyed and stolen property, including the brand new mattress in the room Todd had been sleeping in, which I discovered had been burned with three deep cigarette burns, ruining the mattress, and which I cannot afford to replace. Since he was obviously smoking in bed, while drunk and doped up on pills, as previously mentioned, I realized that he could have burned my whole house down !
The police had realized from the first moment they arrived that Todd Fahey had no right to be at my home. They observed Todd's drunken ranting and heard his irrational statements on more than one subject, all irrelevant to the issue. The ONLY relevant issue was: That Todd Fahey was required to leave my property after being directed to do so by me. That he would have to be escorted off the property by the police, since he refused to leave on his own and threatened that he "would not leave peaceably."
Yet, on the second visit to my home, when Todd took the cab, after the harassing phone calls, though the police made him leave, and once again took him away in their car, they apparently did not take me seriously when I told them that I was concerned for my safety. God only knows what bizarre stories about me and my family Todd Fahey told the police on the first occasion. I won't bother to speculate in this report, but I certainly can imagine, based on the nonsense he had been spewing out before the police arrived, and later, while sitting on my back lawn holding forth about the alleged injustices committed against him.
To make matters worse, it was Sunday, July 4th, the "big weekend" here in Ocean Park, the beachfront community where I live. All the neighbors and their visitors were out on their porches and lawns observing the altercation and gawking at the spectacle of Todd Fahey's bizarre rantings to the police, which went on for at least half an hour before they finally took him away in the police cruiser. Up until that day, there had never been a disturbance at my home. I had lived here for over a year and before that had been coming to the beach house during the summers with friends and family for almost twenty years. The only time I had ever called the police was for parking violations, when tourists visiting the beach blocked my driveway. I lead a quiet life. I am a law-abiding citizen. I mind my own business and expect others to mind theirs. I have never caused any trouble for anyone in this neighborhood. I'm even a member of the local Neighborhood Watch, which I joined this spring.
Now, I'm getting suspicious stares from my neighbors when I see them on the street or down at the beach. I even got a phone call from a friend, who told me that he had heard from his sister (a nosy woman who owns a condo down the road, on the beach) who had heard from some of my neighbors, that I was running a "drug house". This is because Todd Fahey yelled to the police (among other things) that he was "not about to pay $500.00 a month to live in a drug house !" Yet, in fact, he was paying NOTHING while he stayed in my home. The money from his mother, sent to me to cover his expenses, has already been wired to Todd Fahey by Western Union, as promised, by my son, as of yesterday, when the check cleared. And the ONLY drugs in my house were those being used by Mr. Todd Fahey, his "over-the counter" supply, a veritable pharmacy he had brought here himself from Southeast Asia.
I later heard through the grapevine that another neighbor commented that "in addition to the drugs", there was also a "towel hanging on the front porch with a very disturbing message". When I heard this, I found the first glimmer of black humor in the situation: The "towel" is not a towel, but a flag. The message on the flag reads: Liberty or Death. Don't Tread on Me. This, courtesy of The Culpepper Minutemen of Virginia. I actually have two such flags, slightly different in appearance, one in the windows of the upper porch and another on the ground floor porch. But then, I'm a patriot and defender of the Constitution, as I always will be.
When Todd Fahey was hauled away by the police on July 4th (Independence Day !) I was so relieved that I actually stood up on my top floor porch and shouted, for all the nosy neighbors to hear: "Thank God Almighty, I'm free at last !" My brother and I put on some gospel music and cranked up the volume: Jesus on the Mainline, tell him what you need!
As to the character of Todd Fahey, whom I will admit I was once an admiring "fan" of, or at least, a fan of his published writings, promoting "Liberty" and "Justice" for all, I can only say that after I was subjected to three nightmarish weeks of the "houseguest from hell" I now regard him as a madman. I'll also admit that I wonder how my judgment could have been so poor; how I could have been influenced by Todd Fahey's writings to believe that he was a trustworthy and honorable individual, when I have now learned, the hard way, that he is anything but. Live and learn......By their fruits shall you know them.
Todd Fahey (Praise the Lord!) is gone from my home. But I am left with more damages than I can hope to repair. My health is worse than at any time in the past year. I'm exhausted, right to the bone. Property destroyed which I cannot afford to replace.
My computer is now behaving strangely, after I found that, in addition to invading my e-mail programs (where he admitted to reading some of my private e-mail, even presuming to advise me on what my response should be to an offer for an interview on Japanese television) Todd had installed (without my permission) various "programs" that I don't have a clue how to get rid of. For all I know, he could have downloaded all my files. He could have added or subtracted from e-mails I sent or received, or even fabricated e-mails using my address, with the purpose of using them against me. Anything is possible. He boasted of being a "computer genius".
He himself admitted to me that he had "stolen" all the MK Ultra documents about Captain Al Hubbard (which he published on many websites) from a CIA operative in Louisiana, documents he claimed in his public reports, "fell into his lap". And just to give more corroboration as to the unscrupulous nature of his character, Todd had also told me that he had "blackmailed" one of his supervisors at the university where he worked in South Korea, to stop the man from calling officials to deport him from the country. This, when the supervisor brought up the fact that Todd had been committing adultery with a married woman who was one of his students, also against the regulations of the school. The worst part, to me, was that he actually seemed PROUD of himself when describing these unconscionable actions, as if he were smarter than anyone else, and had "put one over" on them.
My family's brief vacations at my home were ruined by the daily disruptions, drunken binges and long-winded tirades about the trials and tribulations of Todd Brendan Fahey. My reputation in the neighborhood where I live (and where I had always kept a low profile) is now sullied by Todd Fahey's ravings to the police about living in a "drug house". The street address of my home has been given out to God-knows-who, some patrons and a barkeep in a sleazy tavern in the tourist area of Old Orchard Beach, which some of us call "Sin City". (You'd have to go there and observe the place to know why.)
I'll now have to change my phone number and possibly even apply to the town clerk to change the number of my street address. I'll change my e-mail address. Of course, I'll be removing the "Friends of Liberty" icon from my website and the link. I'll do whatever it takes to restore peace and quiet to my home and my life. For quite some time, I really believed in the integrity and patriotism of Todd Brendan Fahey. I believed he was a Friend of Liberty. But not anymore.
Todd Fahey certainly owes me one hell of an apology, as he also owes my family. I doubt we'll ever get it. I don't expect ever to recover my financial losses, though he owes me money as well.
In fact, no outrageous act he commits will ever surprise me. No lies or tales of woe, no slander or libel, blaming me and my family for his own character flaws, his addictions and his unscrupulous behavior. Todd Fahey repaid our compassion and kindness with verbal abuse, lies and slander; and with violations of privacy and security. As he was removed from my property by the police, he shouted to my brother, "She will pay for this.....". Sadly, I already have, and in spades. And I'll probably be paying for a long time to come.
But, as my brother remarked to the cops, just before they hauled Todd Fahey away on the 4th of July:
"No act of kindness goes unpunished". And as one officer replied, "That was her first mistake".
July 9, 2004
09-24-2006, 07:16 PM
Psychedelic Spirituality, the Manchurian Candidate and Electromagnetic Terror: An Interview with Todd Brendan Fahey
Todd Brendan Fahey, a strategic writer stationed in South Korea, has served as aide to Central Intelligence Agency agent Theodore L. "Ted" Humes, Division of Slavic Languages, and to the late-Defense Intelligence Agency (DIA) chief Lt. General Daniel O. Graham; to former Arizona Governor Evan Mecham (R-AZ), former Congressman John Conlan (R-AZ) and others. He is author of Wisdom's Maw: The Acid Novel (Far Gone Books, 1996) and "Al Hubbard: The Original Captain Trips" (High Times magazine, 1991), exposes the CIA's MK-Ultra program and its influence on the Sixties' psychedelic counterculture. He is the architect of FriendsOfLiberty.com.
New World Disorder: Do you think LSD and psychedelics in general have changed you in any way? Was the pre-trip Todd any different than the post-trip Todd? For better or for worse? Some people trip and they don't change at all. Did it awaken an interest in mysticism, philosophy etc.?
Todd Brendan Fahey: Psychedelics and, to a lesser extent, the dissociative anaesthetics (dextromethorphan, Ketamine) have altered me (that disparate thing called "me," which is now more than simply the id/ego/superego, of Freudian paradigm) radically. Whereas once I was a stone-atheist--a good, old-fashioned American materialist, a believer in baseball, boxing, booty, & such--, I feel now to be a meaningful part of God's plan, which is still mysterious to me, but of which I am being shown ever-more frequent glimpses (--a sort of risky exercise in traveling through one of Stephen Hawking's theoretical wormholes to the Source).
It all began one day in high school, with a bag of magic mushrooms. Old friends from those days still tell me about "the time Todd Fahey took mushrooms for three-days straight," and came out a different chap. Psychedelics turned on a Satirical component of my being that I didn't know I had, previously. I became a connoisseur of Black Humor after those trips: a voracious reader of Hunter Thompson, Burroughs, Swift, J.P. Donleavy (The Ginger Man), etc.; and also of the Greeks (Heraclitus, Plato, Aristotle, Plotinus), who are very much seeking after answers as to the composition of the Soul and the duties of man in his lifetime.
At first, I would go on an acid- or 'shroom-trip and be terribly confused upon coming down, because it (the experience, all I was "shown") was so intense and incomprehensible to my immature psychology and vocabulary. I would be frustrated that I was unable to put It (which was, precisely, "me" changing, growing, as God hath directed me to do, tho it's taken a long fucking time) into words. I was always a chronic book-worm; my mom read to me & my sister, of all the classic children's stories (Charlotte's Web, James & the Giant Peach, A Wrinkle in Time), all the fantastic, psychedelic stuff, which was obviously (to me, now) a precursor to that which my life has become. But in actually ingesting psychedelics (E.B. White and Ronald Dahl were known-users of LSD, btw), I was forced to begin, crudely at first, putting it down on paper, and thus became a writer.
I have written of one particularly savage drug-epiphany, which was more like a Religious Event than anything I've experienced before or since, and also a speculative guide to what I believe shall be man's future (or, what -should- be man's future, if man doesn't muck it up), which may be interesting to you:
"Room 55, the Hotel von Onna, Amsterdam"
NWD: It obvious some sort of global culture is forming. Do you think psychedelics etc. could become the religion of a future global culture, with its own psychedelic priesthood, a powerful religion fit for a cybernetic super-future?
TBF: For the past decade, I have written of and thought that psychedelics could and should become the basis for a new religion. As a Believer in God (that aggregate force which is, essentially, inexplicable, & for whom every sect has its own definition), I don't find myself shying away from the name "religion" anymore. For the world, my life, what is, to be devoid of a creator who is supernatural, a "first-cause," as it were, is more frightening to me than admitting the obverse.
I've experienced things--physical manifestations, access to information, dream-sequences that parallel the next days' events--that are inexplicable by Modern Science, and, therefore, I chose years ago to break with epistemology (the science of observable "facts") and, instead, align myself with what is more on the order of Faith. For a man who, in Jimi Hendrix's words, is Experienced, after all these years of observing the chasm between random "observable fact" and the Plan which God hath for us, who really Listen to the Music, I can find no shame in admitting that I am a God-fearing sort, and even given to enjoying religious ceremonies--be it Christmas Eve Mass at St. Paul's Cathedral or the wind off the wings of a stone-crazy, dancing mudang (a Korean melding of ecstatic-worship of nature and clairvoyant trance).
But do I think psychedelics will ever become the basis for a world-wide religion? As Leary liked to say, "It all depends on you." That is, if there are a sizeable populace with the balls/chutzpah for to grok from inside Huxley's Door, and if those people will form alliances with loony-Left and conspiratorial-Right and non-aligned anarchist orgs., and who will seek to gain legitimacy in the halls of politics, similar to that which has been gained by homosexual and ethnic groups, I think the tide toward abolition of "unauthorized use of Drugs" could be stemmed.
But consider this: Great change has never been effected by the Masses; it is always the prophet and his disciples who move the Word to the world. Most humans are not unlike sheep or bees. We are a herd mentality. When things get really exciting, to me, is, when someone like Thoreau or Frederick Douglass or Leary or Stephen Hawking comes along and deliberately punches a hole in the socio-structure. This, to me, is as close to magick as can be performed by humans.
Some folks claim to be "in the zone," sufficiently that they have no need for any chemical adjustment of the brain but, as Huxley said, it is the very rare Mystic who can claim this sort of knowledge and/or wisdom. Most need to "get their mind around it," in the form of dropping acid, eating mushrooms, smoking pot. I've never had a problem with this concept--anymore than I would for the person who is blind to wear glasses or the person who is weak or ill to ingest vitamins or physician-prescribed medicaments.
& for Bill-who-didn't-inhale (even if it were true), I say: "Why not?"
I've said, in Philadelphia's Carbon 14 'zine, that, "I'm either bored of the `sober life,' or else it scares the shit out of me. I don't think I've been straight for more than a week in 17 years."
My experimentation with psychedelics, which began with a baggie of mushrooms while as a junior in high school, escalated to taking a hit (or three) of LSD between my pinch'n'gum every day, for, mebbe, 40-days-in-a-row, for most of my late-20s and early-30s.
There is no teacher by whom to learn to navigate the psychedelic experience (or, as Aldous Huxley called it, "the mystic vision.") Just like no one can really teach you how to hang-glide; a sense of What Is Possible is given to one by God. (For you atheists out there, let me substitute, "is implanted by genetics," just like having a fear of heights or having none.) & as I am not in the business of advocating drug use, let me just say, as Hunter Thompson has said, "It's always worked for me."
Under the aid of Drugs, some folks jump off tall buildings in a single splat. Some go on to write great philosophical treatises (Leary, Robert Anton Wilson, Samuel Taylor Coleridge, de Quincey, yaddayadda). "Who can tell?" HST.
In the end, though, as I've figured out, one must need to confront his/her own emotional and psychological vortices, more or less sans Drugs, for to really be keen on what makes one tic. The whole notion of fasting, asceticism, meditation, prayer, is older than psychedelics, and, probably, more binding. I'm just guessing ('cos I'm a struggling addict at the moment--having kicked a Ketamine jones, but aching in every way for the Release), but I think there's a basis for the enduration of the Buddha and of Jesus Christ, whom did not (or, that evidence suggests) imbibe in a lot of extraneous substances.
Huxley understood this in The Doors of Perception, when he said (paraphrasing), that "Religious experiences can be had by all; but by most, it requires Drugs).
NWD: In the "Hot News" section of the Far Gone Books page there used to be a letter (which has been removed, so forgive me if I'm fucking up the details) alerting various "authorities" about some kind of strange vibration or pulse that you experienced in Korea. Have you figured out or have any theories about the cause?
TBF: Good catch. There was, indeed, a report on my Far Gone Books Web site, which detailed the night in which I phoned the U.S. Department of State (speaking to one "field agent Douglas Connor"), from my apartment in Korea, wherein, being beset by an absolute helplessness to some magnetic tracking-pulse, I felt that, if I were gonna be dying in the next three or seven minutes, I figured I'd better "go public" with the weirdness.
This is the first time I've ever written at-length of the episode (the first of them, there were several), and so New World Disorder is getting something of a world-exclusive herein.
First, I will admit to having been that night and on several other occasions under the influence of Ketamine. However, the same circumstances have occured in states of utter sobriety, jerking me out of bed from a sound sleep. So, who can tell?
During the period of November 1990-March 2000, I had been a fixture on a Web site called FreeRepublic.com, which is Rightist/libertarian in nature, and which counts amongst its participants and lurkers, such media gurus as Sam Donaldson, Rush Limbaugh, Britt Hume, Ann Coulter, Sean Hannity and others. FreeRepublic.com draws 450,000 verified hits daily, and is THE site for news relevant to keeping one's soul clean of the disinfo that is foisted upon us all by mainstream media.
During the aforementioned period, I was hammering away at John McCain (who I knew in my three years as an ultra-Right political operative in Arizona), and whom I view as "the politician most-likely-to-be-the-Manchurian Candidate"). Some of the dirt on McCain to which I am privy--detailed ad nauseum in my "straight-to-Web" autobiography, Hell Bottled Up!: Chronicles of a Late Propaganda Minister-- was aired in live interviews by ABC's Sam Donaldson and in a New York Times article (Michael Frantz, journalist).
For my public service, I was drawing major heat from the McCain's campaign, including drawing all kinds of moles from out of the woodwork, who were working 24/7 on FreeRepublic.com, just to combat the information I was posting daily. I was finally banned in FreeRepublic, sans explanation (a "lifetime ban," issued by Webmaster Jim Robinson).
Just when I thought things could get no worse, for my profile, I was informed by Hotmail/Microsoft officials that my account was terminated, all 750 backlogged posts--two years' correspondence, irreplaceable essays, contact info w/ all kinds of politicians & magazines--vanquished, also sans explanation.
It was about that time that, while listening to John Coltrane's Giant Steps, with a headfull of Ketamine, laying on my bed, earjacks firmly implanted into the skull, and really grooving to Coltrane's genius, I was literally JERKED RIGHT OUT OF MY BED by a force. I found myself being dragged first through my bedroom, then into the livingroom, my legs and spine stiff and seizing to a feeling that I was not in control of mine own movements. I've been whacked before, on many chemicals, but nothing came close to this. Then I started to perform some ritualistic dance that included savage kicking motions and very orchestrated finger movements. It all seemed quite logical, for a few moments, and for a little while I "understood" why I was doing what I was doing, but my capacity to explain it now is no longer.
But after a few minutes, some part of my brain recognized that this was not the "Todd Brendan Fahey known unto Todd Brendan Fahey," and I began to experience The Fear. I had no control whatsoever over that which it was I was doing. I was like a marionette puppet. And it was apparent to me then (this has happened on at least four other occasions that I can remember; the weirdest thing was, I remember doing this same thing, or having this same thing done unto me while as a child) that an electromagnetic pulse were being utilized from space (or from a spook-van in the parking lot of my apartment, who knows) to lead me to jump out my livingroom window.
This sounds insane, it is insane, but it happened. I "came to," with some measure of recognition of who I was (in consensus reality), and I resisted whatever it was was possessing me; when I finally regained control of my musculature, I immediately collapsed on the floor, grabbed the phone, and dialed the U.S. Embassy in Seoul, who forwarded me to the State Department, where I inquired of any NSA (National Security Agency) operations over (name of town deleted for security reasons) Korea. I was coherent, composed, and the officer seemed to take me seriously. (He could "neither confirm nor deny," and took down my statement, cordially.)
While still on the subject of Ketamine, a month earlier, while attending the Disinfo.com Convention (Robert Anton Wilson presiding) at the Hammerstein Ballroom, downtown Manhattan, I was privy to another, less-terrifying but equally bizarre, happening, this one involving a long mirror in my room at the Rev. Sun-Myung Moon/CIA-controlled (y'all can check this out if you want to) New Yorker Hotel, on 5th Street, in which the mirror into which I was viewing myself brush my hair, came alive, and I was able to alter my appearance, even to the point of seeing my hair grow dramatically, change the length of my chin, reshape my ears, and almost utterly transform my appearance, as I wished, as often as I wished, and, for as long as I was able to stand it, for as long as I wished.
The New Yorker hotel is a spook-haven, and R.U. Sirius and his girlfriend that night commented on "feeling really freaky vibes, electrical in nature", inducing a general, all-around paranoid vibe.
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