"Stay Away from Sovrumano!!"
In Los Angeles there is a seeming unlimited number of people who claim to be “taking responsibility” for Me. This group of people also overlaps with another group, those who shout, “Stay away from Sovrumano!”. And they do this from fire trucks with the sirens and lights blaring at citizens, they do it from squad vehicles, and ocassionally it’s just some random stranger yelling from behind Myself as I Am walking.
He does this because there is an attractive girl walking at Me
from the opposite direction.
Where I sleep there is a high school nearby. I sleep in several locations and
there is another high school by another, different location. This is
incidental, btw.
And one of the male students will chastise the girls not to look at
Sovrumano; not to talk to Him.
So what’s going on?
Am I some terrible man or sex offender wandering the streets looking for
prey?
No. But in the process of answering this question we find one answer that applies to two questions: Israel
Operation Birddog
You know the story by now.
Twenty-three years ago (almost 24 since we’re nearly in November) I was duped into going homeless. This was accomplished by serious bouts of bad luck, bad advice, bad habits and bad reading of signals.
No matter. The project was sponsored by the FBI, I believe, and they took to writing Me into numerous categories of pop media. I did not know it at the time but I was about to be put into a long-term project where I would be isolated and isolated from getting information from anyone else about My situation. Why was I in it? What had I done? Why was no one helping Me or answering Me? Why was no one else in a situation like My own? Why no other freinds or family members?
By luck, Hollywood was a major player in this project. Well, to be fair all mass media was participating. I was written onto the front page of the Wall Street Journal every day for the six years and 3 monthsl that I bought it but that was nearly the same for the USA Today which I often bought on the same day. All in all, I was reading three newspapers a day, studying My
twitter feed on the bus, looking at pictograms on Instagram, renting movies from the Redbox and watching more TV than I think I ever had in My life. I’m not a big fan of TV. I don’t think I ever have been, really. But the informercails for Me were non-stop. I could watch an episode of Ellen and hear the innuendos intended for Me to hear as she conducted an interview but then the TV commercials between the segments also had innuendos for Me, too. Spectacular!
I was often amazeed and enthralled with it all. Where was this going? It had to be some place great.
Wrong.
Although the messages in the pop magazines pointed to mistakes in My background (they are more bark than bite but they are inflammatory at face value) most notably an accidental sex offense from when I was younger (I misread her nonverbal cues for acquiesing and jumped right in as she was currently engaged with a friend of Mine at the same time) they brought no relief from My newfound homelessness.
Worse, there were legitimate dangers around at the time as rumors swirled about Me. Part of the “punishment” of Operation Birddog for My background was to keep Me moving or running around. This is done to destabilize a person;
make it almost impossible for them to set root anywhere. And because of some assaults of Me, I ran. I ran and I ran. I ran to Mexico, Orlando, San Francisco, Los Angeles, San Diego then back to Phoenix then…
Finally I settled back down in Phoenix My hometown.
I started window washing to make ends meet. Actually, I started window washing to survive.
The cafeterias weren’t that safe for Me at the time and I panicked. I ran into a WalMart with $90 or so on Me and walked out with a mop bucket, squeegie, soaps, paper towels. Window washers don’t carry paper towels
but I didn’t know any better. I hadn’t done it before.
I was a total bullshit artist standing in your doorway. But as luck had it, My first door I knocked on in Scottsdale was answered by an empathetic woman who obliged Me. At the end of the two hour job she tipped Me $40. Finally I had a solution and I could now feed Myself!
And for the next six years and three months I would run through the streets of Phoenix with that damn mop bucket and extension rod in My hands washing windows faster than My next scheduled meal was to be served to Myself. But the point of it all hadn’t changed: The point was to keep Me boxed out of society, to keep Me denpendant on pop media, and to keep Me moving.
You might think that the point was to punish me for My mistakes in My background. I had a few other minor ones. Nothing serious, but worth 30 or
90 days in jail occassionally. No, this would be wrong.
Although credit could be taken for punishing Me, as it turns out the girl who I jumped in bed with and did not know from Adam, was not angry with Me after the dust settled. That is, after the paramedics and fire departments and police
disperse. She wasn’t angry I Am told. She just needed to know it was an honest mistake on My part not a crime or intended theft which it wasn’t.
Still, the intimidations to “move” and keep moving were coming from everyone and everywhere. Even My own family.
After ten years of being on the run through several states and then several years as a window washer in a burned out market, I decided to return to My favorite place on Earth: Los Angeles.
Part Two: The Gang-Stalkers
I caught a greyhoud bus back to L.A.
I wouldn’t be in the Beverly Hills neighborhood or Westlake Village neighborhoods anymore but Skid Row. And it was bad. Long story short, it wasn’t long before I had people following Me around again attempting to turn others against Me or warn them of Me as if I had some disease or ulterior motive of them. I didn’t. But the harassments and nonverbal clues and cues that people used in Phoenix would sometimes show up in L.A. It seems obvious now but at the time I hadn’t realized it–this behavior was being choreographed by Police. Why?
Twenty-three years ago when Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie were the hottest thing on a magazine cover along with their fights with Jennifer Aniston (Which lasted what? Three years?) I couldn’t pick up a magazine without innuendos pointing to the sex mistake (Not sex offense, I reaffirm.) as the explanation for My being followed. But now they made no such pretense. But there was something noticable coming up increasingly often in our media and I first noticed it back in Phoenix. I call it “genocide paraphernalia”.
Innuendos in our pop media about the murder of Americans is dense. And there isn’t any explanation nor apologies for it. But given the aesthetic or attitude of the ads it becomes clear: someone is gloating.
And this stuff, it turns out, is being published by Americans at Americans. I was shocked.
I hired an investigator at the LAPD to find out what was going on. Why was I being targeted and so on.
After a three year investigation the LAPD sent Me a letter stating that they had found “no evidence” to authenticate My claims of choreograhed stalking, choreographed theft, choreographed communications. This was all in My head, I guess.
I was infuriated and decided to sue the department for negligence. Anyone could look at My social media accounts and tell that they had been hijacked. Someone was blocking My communications with customers and readers online. I was running Sovrumano now and losing a fortune for their lack of effort. I didn’t get the paperwork quite right and was sent back to a window to get another form. An African-American woman looked over My paperwork
and said, “I don’t think your case is a willful negligence case. I think your case is a trafficking case.” Trafficking? Why would it be a trafficking case? She then went on to explain that those trafficked don’t have to be taken anywhere; it is
essentially another word for slavery.
I guffawed. But I was also intrigued. Is that what running around the USA and reading all of this pop media doing? Changing My status from citizen to that of a slave? Ridiculous.
Still, it stuck. And I became so fascinated with it as a subject that a videocast for the subject was made and a series at
that–“Traffic ME?!” and it has gotten great reviews, too.
A New Neighborhood
One day I moved to a new location to pitch My tent.
This would change the
company and to some extent, Myself but I’ll spare you the details–what you need to know is that two very well known celebrities haunt this spot and just as impossibly–some of My very best friends in life from
Phoenix, some four out of four of them, are right here, too.
Strange.
And they all participate in the silent treatement of Myself but they also participate in the killiing of Myself.
This realization came upon Me inexplicably and slowly. It started with a girl I had befriended in the neighborhood. But then it turned out that she knew one of My friends from Phoenix.
They were both guilty of following Me around town, spraying chemicals into My tent while I slept and slandering Me behind My back.
This was astonishing to me. The last time I had saw My friend from Phoenix he had let Me take a room in his house for six months without charging Me rent. He could have been the best man at My wedding at one point in time. Now, without any fights or arguments between us, he was now participating in the gang-stalking and harassment and assaults that I had been complaining about for years.
Then it turns out another friend from Phoenix was here, too. I hadn’t seen her in 35 years.
Then another friend, a best friend and musician.
Then another mutual best friend of ours was here, too.
A former co-worker from Westlake Village was here.
Another friend from Phoenix.
Before you know it, I’m feeling like I live on Muholland Drive.
(You ever see that movie? Mulholland Drive directed by David Lynch or whatever his name is? I had the great fortune of coming home from work one night when no room mates were in the apartment. I sat down in the living room and on the coffee table was the DVD. Having nothing better to do for the evening I popped it into the DVD player and with no preconceived notions whatsoever for the film I began to watch it. It had a profound effect on Me and I just sat there in silence for a few moments as the credits rolled afterwards. I recommend you see it if you haven’t and watch it in the dark. It’s not scary but it is profound in many ways.)
And the bizarre thing is that they avoid Me. I see them for a second or two as they walk by at some distance to Myself but they have been very skittish about coming close. And that it turns out is probably for a good reason: They are participating in the murder of Myself by gang-stalking.
Secret Service, CIA & Mossad
As it turns out, Natalie Portman had moved into the area over a year or so ago.
She knew I was a fan but avoided My knowing that she was here for a while. Maybe she didn’t know what to expect or she didn’t want someone trying to talk to her as she walked by. All of these concerns are false, btw as that’s not My style. I’m not socially inept or immature.
She was also dating one of My friends from Phoenix. They were both participating in the gang-stalking of Myself. (You can find other articles written about that elsewhere on the site.)
And they were doing something else–something bizarre I had never heard of even though I had spent a little time researching and reading on things occult: They were performing “sex rites” or satanic sex rites where they engage in congress near their mark or one to be offed.
They would follow Me to other neighgborhoods where I pitch My tent, pull up in a vehicle nearby, and then start making whoopee.
Sometimes I could hear them but not much. About a yelp from Natalie was all that could be heard and then nothing.
This has gone on for the last 11 months despite the two of them not dating each other today.
They both pair off with other members of their “social club” and follow Me to wherever I might go and perform their rites there.
Natalie, as it turns out, is a prostitute with numerous, serious felonies in her background.
The purpose of the sex rite is to celebrate the newfound wealth that one plans to inherit from the death of the one marked. It’s also a way of saying “Fuck you, I’m not sorry.”
Now this may be harsh but it may also be required of a den mother or warlock somewhere; a really old vampire with seniority and authority over the youngin’s. Uniformity of command, as they say in the military.
As they follow Me to other neighborhoods to perform these things I notice that they tend to stay in the area. I have some communication with them via psychotronics and they tell Me, at first, that they have hotel rooms in the area that they can frequent at any time. This turns out to be ahalf-truth more likely and the real reason is that they are throwing swing parties in the area.
Soon, more celebrities are showing up on the radar. I see them here and there. They are cordial or friendly but never concede anything to Me or offer assistance. I Am told that they are forbidden to do so.
Forbidden.
Who would do that, I wonder. Who has a lot of time or senioirity in Freemasonry?
Perhaps a reputation in occult circles for being especially tough or requisite in his discipline and exactness in applying doctrines and formulas?
Someone with connections, too.
These are not small crimes or small media stories to shut down. Who could have the power and wealth to pay (rumored) police, attorney generals and FBI agents under the table so he can do whatever he wants?
Including the stalking of Myself which I learn later may just be for the purpose of crucifying Me behind closed doors in a quasi-religious manner–who could do that?
Tom Cruise, could.
Cruise was rumored to be in the area and I spoke to him a few times over-the-sky*.
He was personable and friendly.
I saw him in several different areas. The whole picture was leaked to Me in parts: He was in the area. He like to socialize. He worked for Mossad. He was aware of My misfortune. He liked the work I had done at the website. He had put in a
good word for Me with his people in Israel. He was participating in the gang-stalking.
No, he was choreographing the gang-stalking of Myself.
He was planning to make a fortune from the merchandising of My company that My life would be cut short of. He had tortured My father back in Phoenix when he was passing away… Full stop. This was mentioned and a cordial exchange between Myself that could have happened now turned into vitriol from Myself.
Cruise had tortured My father, he says, because he was a devout Witness for Jehovah. And Cruise hated those people.
If Cruise heard that someone especially devout was passing away–not necessarily one of Jehovah’s Witnesses–he might go out of his way to cause them an especially painful passing.
From him, I get mixed messages and this is to be expected from those raised in the occult or of some cult in general. In this case Freemasons.
And Cruise is supposedly following the directions of Rabbis back in Israel. So is
Natalie. However they both seem to exhibit traits of sociopathy that are innate but as I say, this is to be expected.
How does the fire department get out there and scare people away? Who pays for people to research Me and date girls from My background because they are girls from My background? Who tries to copy My business? Who plans to displace Me and everything I do? Who shuts down all recourse afforded Me by law enforcement and the lawyers who should be taking My case? Who puts the innuendos in pop media but keeps the story itself from
the front page of the same newspapers? How do you keep myriads of people silent about what is planned up ahead? You need two things: One a intelligence agency to handle the choreographing and two, you need psychotronics or an untracable way to communicate.
Heres’s your summary:
Cruise and Pormtan work for Mossad. The fire department tells citizens to “Stay away from Sovrumano!!” Actors like Portman use their celebrity and the credibility it offers to
slander My reputation. Former friends are recruited and silenced. I happen to be Christ when I Am already being detained but now the
potential benefit of displacing Me skyrockets. Mossad works for Israel. The FBI answers to israel and Mossad in truth as the Bureau really works to
keep Israel and Israelis alive.
The public is deceived en mass about what is really going on so as to keep
them quiet. Ultimately I would be murdered at some point in time very near (rumored
that it was already supposed to have happened which is why Cruise and
Portman are about) and the billions that My name is worth would be
reduced to millions but the upside is that all of the millions go back to the
terrorist group instead of being dispersed as benefits to those who
worked to make it happen, so to speak. Did you catch it?
I’ll bet you didn’t but it’s too easy. Israel is the one who is telling you to stay away from Me so I can be
murdered quietly somewhere. Israel is the one attempting to steal My wealth without getting their name
associated with the heist and murder. Israel is the one blocking news of Christ’s arrival from our newspapers and
mass media. Israel uses Mossad who uses the FBI who uses the police and Sheriff’s
departments to tell you what to think, how to behave and what to do
about Sovrumano when you see Him. That, My friend, is why people are shouting “Stay away from Sovrumano!!” and anyone who tells you otherwise will be shut down. I’ve had some
people state that I have habits that are alarming people. This is false and
it’s impossible to know what My habits are without illegal surveillance and
unlawful intrusion. What’s worse is that with psychotronics you can force
a virtual ecstacy (like the street drug) on a person without their ingesting
it. It’s three times as strong and it has needle-point precision on your nerve
endings. It’s like nothing else you’ve ever felt and it can make you crave
sex, feel like socializing, insatiable or maybe just flirty. But it can make you
holler like a rooster as well. Anyone who insinuates that My problems are
innate or from drugs is lying to you. The ones most apt to this are always
emplyees of the police departments. You can tell because they have
infomation that they couldn’t possibly know which is from psychotronics
and the culprit is never psychotronics but always drugs or My poor
personal hygeine. I know people who take an amphetamine for work but I’ve never known
anyone to take virtual ecstacy for it. It’s always for partying and the mark
never knows when he will find his punch has been spiked with it. I hope this answers your questions for the time being. Stay tuned. This article is a part of the larger series on Tom Cruise and
Natalie Portman.
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