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The following material is not suitable for children!
Cathy O'Brien
The above material was excerpted from the book:
Trance Formation of America:
The True Life Story of a CIA Mind Control Slave
1995 by Cathy O'Brien with Mark Phillips
P.O.B. 158352, Nashville, TN 37215
Published by Reality Marketing, Inc.
5300 West Sahara, Suite 101, Las Vegas, NV 89102
"Trance Formation of America is the documented
autobiography of a victim of government mind control.
Cathy O'Brien is the only vocal and recovered survivor
of the Central Intelligence Agency's MK-Ultra Project
Monarch mind control operation. Chiseled deep into the
white stone of the CIA's Langley, Virginia headquarters
is a partial verse lifted from the Holy Bible and writings
of Saint John...'and the truth shall make you free.' This
statement, like the agency, is total reality. The building
that it is engraved upon houses the world's most successful
manufacturer of lies to facilitate psychological warfare."
Trance Formation of America
On May 7, 1966 a 9 year old child named Cathy O'Brien was subjected
to an occult ritual she called "The Rite to Remain Silent" in
alleged preparation for her future interdimensional expeditions.
"I work for the Vatican, and now, so do you," [Michigan State
Senator, Guy] VanderJagt told me. "You have just entered into a
covenant with the holy Catholic church. You must never break that
covenant."
Still capable of questioning at that time, I asked, "What is a
covenant?" VanderJagt answered,
"A covenant is a promise to keep
secrets, the secret that the church knew all along. The Pope has all
the secrets locked away at the Vatican. Your Uncle Bob and I have
been to the Vatican. It is time you entered into the holy covenant
and learned the secrets of the church that were written long before
Christ even came into being. The Dominican monks kept the covenant
that Noah carried into the new world. They kept the secret with
them. It was written on parchment and kept in a secret place in the
Vatican. They took a Vow of Silence to never reveal its location, or
its content. You must enter into the covenant. You must carry the
secret to your grave. Keep it secret from your mom, dad, everybody."
9 Year Old Cathy
VanderJagt proceeded to fill my suggestible young mind with biblical
interpretation that laid the groundwork for future "inter/inner
dimensional" programming themes utilized by Project Monarch
programmers to control the compartmentalization of memory synonymous
with MPD/DID.
"Christ saw them all," VanderJagt was telling me. "They are
dimensions, places you can see on your way to death. That's why
they're called die-mentions. You must remember that Christ died and
came back to tell us everything he saw while he was on his way to
heaven. He was gone three days, but it was much longer than that
where he was because time isn't the same in other dimensions.
Purgatory is one other dimension. Hell is one. And there are lots of
others in between. Oz is another dimension. The sky is not the limit
to all the worlds out there waiting to be explored. You can travel
in and out of all these dimensions, learning the secrets of the
universe. You have been chosen to explore these other worlds for the
church. Listen in the stillness and you will hear his voice guiding
you on your missions. The rosy cross is like Dorothy's ruby
slippers. Never take your rosy cross off, Cathy, when traveling
other dimensions and you will always be able to return home."
Father Don [apparently from Muskegon's St. Francis of Assisi Church]
joined VanderJagt in a ritual which bathed me in the blood of a
slaughtered lamb, and subsequently, through this hideous blood
trauma, locked their stated perceptions and a basis for mind-control
programming deep in my mind. This basis for programming was anchored
in the Vow of Silence which the Jesuit monks take "not only to keep
secrets, but so they can still their mind and hear their inner
guidance." Certain that the "Rite to Remain Silent" which they had
performed would ensure that I keep their secrets, Father Don and Guy
VanderJagt subjected me to their pedophile perversions. The two
joked that I had become "a good Cathy-lick".
[...]
Cox was ordered out of Johnston's office, and he turned his full
attention to me. When alone with the Senator [U.S. Senator Robert C.
Byrd, D. West Virginia], Johnston [U.S. Senator J. Bennett Johnston,
D. Louisiana previously of Shreveport General Dynamics R & D, now
apparently affiliated with USPECC, on the Reston, VA Columbia Gas
board of Directors and CEO of the Washington-based Johnston and
Associates] manipulated my mind, and ultimately my beliefs and
perceptions, for future programming. He referred to a picture of
himself shaking hands with unknown Navy brass as he dramatically
told me, "I was there that fateful day in 1943 when a hole was
ripped in the fabric of time through what later became known as the
Philadelphia Experiment.
All those fine boys vanished along with
their ship in a bizarre twist of events that parallels the Atlantis
disappearances. A vortex was created in an effort to slip dimensions
and become invisible to the enemy. It was a success beyond the
highest expectations and launched us all info universal travel. It
is no wonder at all that we have had a man on the moon. Traveling to
distant planets and galaxies is Mickey Mouse stuff in comparison to
the high tech wizardry of trans-dimensional travel.
Trans-dimensional travel circumvents all measures of time, including
distance and speed.
When the fabric of time was torn, we opened
ourselves up to intergalactic travel -- both in and out of this
dimension -- and in and out of the future, as well as the past. We
can alter the course of history by traveling back in time to alter
events, or we can blast off into the future and gain wisdom and
knowledge of events yet to come. We can control the future by
controlling the past. At present, this is a relatively easy task
according to the theory of relativity and abilities gained through
the Philadelphia Experiment. I came back an ET (extraterrestrial)
myself. And our ship returned to this Earth as a spaceship. I gained
the keys to the universe on that fateful day, and I carry them with
me now, sharing only a Key or two at a time with those who are
Chosen.
You are a Chosen One (Johnston was deliberately interfacing
with Rite to Remain Silent conditioning), and therefore must learn
the ins and outs of interplanetary travel. Your mission is
trans-dimensional. You can span infinite dimensions by learning from
me. Take it from me, you're going places, kiddo. And I'll teach you
to get there by riding the light. I'll teach you the groundwork, and
you do the light work. The key to the universe lies in the speed of
light. The only way to travel is by beam of light. You will learn to
go to the light...Your mission is to learn how to Tinker with time.
I'm going to take you on that journey myself. Come with me now. It's
time we were leaving this plane and boarding another."
Johnston took me the short distance from his General Dynamics
Corporation provided office to the Barksdale Air Force Base
airfield. He was apparently well known at Barksdale, and a small
cargo plane was ready to take us to our destination -- Tinker Air
Force Base in Oklahoma.
[...]
About
Faces
Soon after Kelly (Cathy's very young daughter) was inducted into
George Bush's "Neighborhood" through horrific sexual abuse, Bush
enforced his controls on me. Our mind-control handler, Alex Houston,
had taken Kelly and me to Washington, D.C. for separately scheduled
meetings with Bush. Kelly had already been escorted by agents to her
rendezvous with him that morning, during which time I had been
ordered to one of U.S. Senator Robert C. Byrd's offices located in
the nearby FBI Hoover Building. There, Byrd reinforced his holds on
me by claiming control of the Justice Department and "proving" once
again that I had "no where to run and no where to hide". My horror
reaction was compounded when Byrd looked at his pocket watch and
notified me in Alice in Wonderland cryptic language, "You're late,
you're late for a very important date," referring to my meeting with
Bush.
I sprinted from the Hoover Building, encountering Houston who waited
just outside. Houston hurried me to the Smithsonian where I waited
for my escorts as instructed at the "Face Changing" exhibit. This
computerized exhibit illustrates how an individual's face can take
on a radically different appearance by slightly altering any single
feature.
The exhibit fascinated me as a programmed MPD since multiples often
experience the unnerving phenomena of routinely not recognizing
themselves in a mirror due to switching personalities. A multiple's
face often changes slightly with each switch, which "validates" the
religious communities' perceptions of so-called "demonic possession"
in occultism. Logic quickly dispels this belief when it is realized
that everyone's expression changes according to emotion, by skin
color and tones, blood pressure, and by tightening or relaxing
specific micro muscles. An MPD's face changes are more exaggerated
when these natural conditions are combined with the results of
sophisticated programming. "Charm School" teaches subconscious
control over these natural phenomena as a ready- made disguise on
government slaves such as myself, as well as to enhance sex slaves'
"beauty" to their maximum potential. I was incapable of thinking or
logically understanding my fascination with the display, as I stood
totally enthralled, waiting for my escorts as ordered.
As the escorts approached, I was relieved to see Kelly with them.
Though she was visibly tranced and traumatized, the fact that she
was alive was all I was capable of grasping. When she saw the "Face
Changing" exhibit, she excitedly exclaimed, "Uncle George [Bush]
just read me a book about this!" Before I could hear anymore, I was
led away, leaving Kelly with our handler, Houston.
I was then quickly taken to Bush's Residence Office, which
heretofore was unfamiliar to me. Although it had slate blue, plush
carpets and fine furnishings like the White House office, lattice
work and smaller rooms provided a different air. I sat in a
hard-back wooden chair as ordered, while Bush carefully positioned
himself in front of me on a little wooden footstool. This allowed me
clear visibility of the large book that he held in his lap. All
illustrations faced me, while all text except the last page was
printed in the holder's direction. This book was a unique, high tech
piece of art specifically designed to enforce Bush's favorite method
of programming, "You Are What You Read". The juvenile face depicted
on the front of this hardcover book gave it the appearance of a
children's storybook. It was entitled About Faces.
Bush explained the dynamics of "changing faces" and "becoming what I
read". Although I had been conditioned to this idea all of my life
through Disney stories, The Wizard of Oz, Alice In Wonderland, etc.,
I was not prepared for Bush's version of "You Are What You Read"
programming explanations. The illustrations themselves were
elaborate, consisting of mirrors add hypnotic depictions. He
seemingly made the book come alive in my mind as he read page after
poetic page of hypnotic, metaphorical language, all the while
creating powerful illusions. His impersonations of the characters
further enhanced the desired affect of fantasy becoming reality.
This extraordinary effort to scramble reality would have worked --
perfectly -- had it not been for another victim and myself
discussing it only a few days later. The purpose of Bush's book was
clearly explained within the first few pages, which included the
following passage:
I am the Vice President when circumstance demands,
And I am your Commander, you'll follow my commands.
The first command's important -- It is one you will heed,
When I send you a book, you are what you read.
Throughout my tenure as a Presidential Model mind-controlled slave,
I was provided specific books according to Bush's program. These
books, delivered through pre-established channels such as Ken Riley,
Alex Houston, and even Ronald Reagan, came complete with specific
commands on how they were to be interpreted and used. Some books
were used to instruct me on operations; some were an attempt to
scramble my memory with fantasy; others were used to load my mind
with pertinent data such as bank account passbook numbers, and so
on.
I was provided a paperback book entitled Afghanistan, from which I
absorbed history, current political events, and the strength of the
Afghany Freedom Fighters. I have since learned that the book I read
was never publicly released in the text it was provided me.
According to instruction, the book was delivered back to Bush as
quickly as I finished memorizing it. I wonder in retrospect if any
part of it contained fact beyond how I was supposed to perceive it.
I read stories of espionage, including Robert Ludlum's Bourne
Identity, and William Diehl's Chameleon. Mostly I was provided
steamy sex novels for further training as well as scrambles. Kelly
was conditioned to fairy tales, Steven Speilberg's ET, NASA NSA
operative George Lucas' Star Wars, and the nightmarish Never Ending
Story. Steinbeck's Of Mice and Men caused Kelly constantly to quote
the defendant character of Lenny for years saying, "Tell me what to
do, George". She still does this each and every time I am allowed to
visit with her in the mental institution. The attending therapist
overseeing the visit has yet to pick up on this programming cue, and
I am forbidden by Juvenile Court order not to discuss Kelly's past
or therapy.
Bush's most effective example of "You Are What You Read" in his book
About Faces occurred during his reading of the page depicting
lizard-like "aliens" from a '"far-off, deep space place". Claiming
to me to be an alien himself, Bush apparently activated a hologram
of the lizard-like "alien" which provided the illusion of Bush
transforming like a chameleon before my eyes.
[...]
E.T. Phone Rome
Anyone attending the Bohemian Grove on a regular basis was referred
to by those in the know as a "Grover". One such Grover was Ronald
Reagan's then Secretary of Education, Bill Bennett. Bill Bennett,
who later became "Drug Czar" during the Bush Administration, wrote
the so-called Book of Virtues and was/is? vying for the office of
President. Bennett is apparently very close to his brother and
fellow Grover, Bob Bennett. Although Bob Bennett holds the position
of Legal Counsel to President Clinton, it is apparent that the
brothers recognize no party lines.
It was clear to me that there were no partisan differences amongst
those ushering in the New World Order, any more than there was
loyalty to our Constitution. The close relationship I witnessed
between the Bennett brothers, like the marriage between Clinton's
and Bush's 1992 campaign managers James Carville and Mary Matlin,
should raise questions as to their agenda.
When Bill and Bob Bennett together sexually assaulted my [very
young] daughter, Kelly, and me at the Bohemian Grove in 1986, I had
already known Bill Bennett as a mind-control programmer for some
time. Bennett anchored his Jesuit/Vatican based programming of me in
my Catholic conditioning initially instilled via the Rite to Remain
Silent. Through further manipulation of my "inner-dimensional"
perceptions, Bennett believed he had forever compartmentalized his
personal secrets of perverse sex with his brother, Bob, and my then
six-year-old daughter. Bennett also had manipulated my mind in
accordance with Vatican "Orders" via Byrd's Jesuit College
programming center in West Virginia. He used his role as Jesuit
programmer for the purposes of carrying out his efforts as Education
Secretary to implement Education 2000.
In order to program my mind for my role in bringing Education 2000
into the "Volunteer State" of Tennessee's school system, Bennett
used sophisticated mind manipulation to set the stage -- the same
kind of mind manipulation propaganda executed on national and
international scale. Bennett's penchant for manipulating minds is
apparently rooted in his knowledge of Catholic/Jesuit mind-control
techniques.
When I met Bennett at a White House cocktail party in 1984, I was
wearing the rosy cross necklace that Guy VanderJagt and Father Don
had presented to me during my first communion, to signify the mode
of program I was operating under at the time. Byrd had ordered that
I wear it for the occasion.
Byrd was already talking with Bennett when a White House butler led
me in to see Byrd. Byrd was saying,
"I was just talking about you
with my friend, Secretary of Education William Bennett."
"Bill," Bennett corrected, sweeping his lecherous gaze over me as
though I were merchandise. "How do you do?"
"As I am told, thank you," I said as I extended my hand as trained.
Bennett clumsily fingered the rosy cross necklace, blowing his
alcoholic breath in my face as he said, "Your necklace is as
beautiful as you are, and no doubt, as significant in purpose. Where
did this come from and what does it mean to you?"
"From my first communion," I responded. "Guy (Byrd interrupted to
clarify 'VanderJagt') gave it to me to consummate my holy
communion."
Byrd corrected me, "Commemorate your holy communion." "She doesn't
need a translator, Bobby," Bennett laughed. "I'm hearing her loud
and clear."
Byrd left me with Bennett, who went into a long winded recitation on
an interpretation of the Bible deliberately intended to further
distort my Catholic instilled perceptions. "Christ was an alien in
this land," he was saying in accordance with his learned Jesuit mind
manipulation techniques.
"Once he landed in Earth's plane, it was
plain to see he was a leader in inter-dimensional travel. We
(Jesuits/aliens) followed his lead since he was the first to slip
into Earth's dimension. In Christ's transformation from porpoise to
purpose, he lost his will to Earth's demands. He lost his porpoise,
so to speak."
Totally "trance-fixed," I listened as Bennett rattled
on and on.
"When Christ emerged from the deep to inhale of Earth's
atmosphere, time began ticking. It was not recognized or
acknowledged until Christ's passing, however. We began marking time
with his death. BC -- AD -- or is that AC-DC?"
Referring to high
voltage used to compartmentalize memory, he continued,
"No, AC in DC
stops time. At any rate, we followed his lead. He referred to you as
sheep. He knew you needed to be led. He led us. He led you. He led
us to you. We're here to lead you. The transformation is perfected
now, updated with the latest in alien technologies whereby we no
longer have to follow Christ's course to the grave. We can transcend
dimensions free of the confines of Earth's gravitational pull. The
time is now, and we are here to lead you. We know your mind. That's
how we make you mind. Make you mine. Make you a mind. Make you mine.
Journey with me now...."
Bennett manipulated my perceptions until, at last, he informed me,
"You and I will be working closely together on a global education
project." Sweeping his hand around the crowded room, he continued,
"This atmosphere is not conducive to the kind of work we need to be
doing. Something else just came up that demands immediate attention.
Let's complete tonight's business with pleasure, beat it out of this
dimension, suspend your suspended animation, and get with the
program."
In one of many White House bedrooms available for such purposes,
Bennett led me into bed,
"I told you we were going to beat it out of
this dimension, and that's exactly what I intend to do. A little
Byrd told me you like a whip. Since I am not the Senate kind, I'll
just represent the majority by giving you what you need most."
Bennett apparently found perverse pleasure in whipping me. With my
wrists bruised and my body stinging with pain, Bennett lit up a
cigarette and cryptically asked, "Was that your first cum-union with
an alien?"
He threw me my clothes, and ordered, "Make yourself presentable.
Make sure your wrists are covered. I'm not waiting around for you,
I'll see you in the morning."
Bennett left. After awhile I was escorted back to Byrd, with whom I
spent a brutal, short night. On the way to his room, Byrd told me,
"You've got work to do come morning with Mr. Bennett. Working for
him is like working for me. We are working in conjunction with the
state Governors in an effort to implement the global 2000 education
formula for the future. I am excited at the prospect of meddling in
the future through what I accomplish today. Since I hold this
country's purse strings, it is up to me to delegate as much funding
as is necessary to implement the educational program. I've withheld
funding and withheld funding to the point where the individual
states must rely on federal funding to get them out of hot water
financially. I am ready to do just that so long as they follow my
guidelines. Mr. Bennett is working out the details of this plan, and
will be sharing much of that with you. I need you to do what you do
best by enlisting the full cooperation of state government at the
upcoming Governor's Convention. I have never demanded Conventional
sex of you before, but this time is different. Persuade these
Governors at their weakest moment -- bring them to their knees while
you are on yours, and convince them that global education is the
gateway to the future if there is to be any future at all."
Early the next morning, deep underground in the NASA's Goddard Space
Flight Center mind-control lab near D.C., Bill Bennett began
preparing me for the program. NASA uses various "CIA designer drugs"
to chemically alter the brain and create exactly the mindset
required at the time. Huntsville, Alabama's NASA drug of choice,
"Train-quility," created a feeling of absolute, peaceful compliance
and a sensation of walking on air. The drug administered this time
was sufficiently similar to Tranquility to create total compliance.
The beating I had endured the night before had rendered me helpless,
anyway, and I could barely crawl up onto the cold, metal lab table
as the drug took effect.
In the darkness surrounding me, I could hear Bill Bennett talking,
"This is my brother, Bob. He and I work as one unit. We are alien to
this dimension -- two beings from another plane."
The high-tech light display swirling around me convinced me I was
transforming dimensions with them. A laser of light hit the black
wall in front of me, which seemed to explode into a panoramic view
of a White House cocktail party -- as though I had transformed
dimensions and stood amongst them. Not recognizing anyone, I
frantically asked,
"Who are these people?"
"They're not people, and this isn't a spaceship," Bennett said. As
he spoke, the holographic scene changed ever so slightly until the
people appeared to be lizard-like aliens. "Welcome to the second
level of the underground. This level is a mere/ (mirror) reflection
of the first, an alien dimension. We are from a transdimensional
plane that spans and encompasses all dimensions."
"Infinite dimensions," Bob injected. "Infinite dimensions spanned
simultaneously."
Bill said, "No limitations".
Bob softly sang, "Let freedom ring".
"There truly is no where to run and no where to hide from us. We're
who is looking from behind the Eye in the Sky," Bill continued.
"We're watching you," Bob said. He sang a line from the popular rock
song "I'll Be Watching You".
"I have taken you through my dimension as a means of establishing
stronger holds on your mind than the Earth's plane permits," Bill
Bennett was saying. "Being alien, I simply make my thoughts your
thoughts by projecting them into your mind. My thoughts are your
thoughts."
The brief message Bennett programmed me with pertaining to Education
2000 was to be directed to state Governors at the upcoming
convention while delivering a packet of information:
"The children. We must consider the children. Think for a moment
beyond tomorrow. Our children are the future. Their future lies in
education. We can control the future today by regulating education.
Our thoughts and plans for the future -- put in their text. A text
they can understand. Children's textbooks. The highest levels of
government, the most brilliant minds on the face of this Earth would
like input into the future by way of the children. You, as Governor,
are in a position to provide that link. Global Education 2000 is
ready for implementation. Look into it. Look into it and see the
future."
Additional material on Cathy O'Brien
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