Monday, July 30, 2007
Another hot and humid day. It's also been raining. Between the rain and
humidity, I am always very wet.
A breathing technique
I have been meaning to start a new section of this website that is
TIs (targeted individuals) such as myself. I will do so soon. For now, I
will just include
that information here.
Something that I have found that can help bring some relief from the
attacks is to, for a little while, breathe in through your nose and out
through your mouth.
If you are a TI, and they are really viciously attacking your nose with
the weapon and making
it difficult for you to breathe, try this. It may bring some relief. It
always seems to work
for me. You may need to turn your head to a new position first so that
they can't just keep
shooting you in the exact same spot that they shot you before and *then*
start the nose-in,
mouth-out breathing. If you become uncomfortable or dizzy while doing the
breathing, then you should stop and resume normal (nose-in, nose-out)
breathing. I feel fine
doing nose-in, mouth-out for a little while, and it may be something that
requires a little
Here is my explanation as to why this works. **Of course, this is all
just speculation on
my part and I am not an expert.** But the following is my best guess.
Their attacks require
two elements: one is the directed-energy weapon, but the other is a good
Their camera shows them the heat signature of your body. When you breathe out, you
are sending hot air
out of your nostrils. They can see this, and this effectively shows them
*exactly* where your
nostrils are and where to shoot you in order to suffocate you. If you
instead blow the hot air
out of your mouth, then it is more difficult for them to target your
nostrils in *exactly* the
right place to suffocate you. This is my guess.
Your mental state is very important. What they want to do is to fill
you with abject fear
and reduce you to an emotional wreck. This is why, in addition to using
weapons on you, they
do what many have called "street theater" or "gang stalking". This
includes strangers (in groups)
staring at you, laughing at you, putting their fingers on their noses, and
so on ad infinitum.
The large numbers of people involved in this gang activity do, in fact,
constitute a powerful
weapon of a psychological kind. But you can prevent this street theater
from doing any emotional
harm by keeping one thing in mind at all times: They're doing it just to
screw with your mind, just
to fill you with fear at all times. **They are actors following a
script.** They have been told
*exactly* what to do. Knowing this, you can laugh it off and/or just
The other thing that I would recommend to all TIs is to make sure to
*have some fun* everyday.
Have some pleasure in your life. Spend time with friends. Do something
fun. Ignore the mindless
sheep that follow gang orders. It goes without saying that not everyone is
involved in this evil.
Never trust anyone too much but find people that you can just have fun
with and do so. Or spend
time by yourself having fun. But have some fun, some pleasure every day.
Don't let them make your
life an uninterrupted symphony of pain. You'd be surprised at how far a
little fun can go in maintaining
a healthy mental state.
Friday, July 27, 2007
Remembering My Father
I did a web search today on my father's name: Howard Matloff. I also tried Howard S.
Matloff and Howard Steven Matloff. Nothing. Zip. Zero. It's like he never even existed. I
found two other Howard Matloff's, one a race car driver and the other a lawyer (or maybe
they are the same person). But not my father.
My father died of cancer at the age of 42. That's forty-two years old. I was only
19 years old when he died. I watched him die, for the most part, at home. I have told this
story before here. The question that I haven't discussed, and that remains an open one, is
why. My father never smoked. And he died so young. I remember that a relative told me
once that when my father was younger he had radioactive iodine treatments and that
maybe that was the cause. She said the doctors didn't know for sure.
I don't really know if my father actually had radioactive iodine treatments for a
condition, or if perhaps that relative was not telling the truth. It's
possible that rather than being "treated" he was experimented on by the U.S. government
(something the U.S. government had done in one form or another over the years, sources have
shown), or perhaps he was simply exposed while working at a military site. I remember (see
below entries) that U.S. News and World Report magazine showing pictures of military
sites and people who had been experimented on. Here are some relevant articles:
I really don't know that much about my dad's life before I was born. I only know that I
loved him and that he died much too young. Google and Yahoo say that my dad never existed. I
I love ya Dad.
Friday, July 20, 2007
Not much to much to report, actually. Same "bad stuff," different day, as they say. The latest tactic they are using is sleep deprivation. They just make a lot of noise, especially when I am trying to sleep. There were actually people outside last night banging and pounding at 1:30 am. You might think this is not a problem: I could just close my window. But it is swelteringly hot out right now. Closing the windows is not a great option. So it is a difficult time, but I will persevere.
I wanted to post more, but I’ve been really busy. One big, big problem right now is that it’s just hot as blazes outside. I cannot go walking for even a short distance without becoming soaked in my own sweat. It’s pretty awful. At home, my air conditioner (I have only one small room-size one) is just not enough.
I wanted to talk about other victims for a moment. Typically I have called others who are going through experiences similar to my own “victims,” but it seems that a term that is becoming more prevalent is “targeted individuals.” I will use either term interchangeably. There is no great term to express what we are: innocent people being attacked in a ruthless and high-tech manner. I just found the following video and it seems to hit on many important points. I don’t agree with all of it, and I was only able to watch the first 5 minutes and 44 seconds (the Internet connection I’m using is not so great), but mostly it seems to be on target.
You will find many Internet sites from “targeted individuals” like myself. Unfortunately (or fortunately, really), the fact is that there are just too many related postings for me to give links to them all. I will give a few from time to time. The important thing you should remember about these links is this: These people (the honest ones who are really trying to tell the truth) are victims of the most unimaginable torture. If you are not a victim, you really can have no idea of the unbearable pain and misery these people endure every day. Some of these postings will be very emotional and far too subjective. Many of these well-intentioned posts will contain, along with true statements, some contradictory or logically impossible assertions. This is not surprising. These people are being tortured and maimed and many are at their wits’ end. I myself used to be like this some years ago; but now I try, by all means possible and at all times, to be objective and critical, like a journalist simply reporting the news. My assertions are hard to believe but do not run counter to logic or contradict themselves; but it is only recently that I have been able to calm down and take this more objective stance. Please bear this in mind while reading some of these posts. The point is this: the emotional state of the writer may cloud the writer’s story, but try to separate the wheat from the chaff and see through to the core of the story.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Beware of “group sleeping” environments
I don’t know any good way to introduce this story. No matter how I
tell it, it will seem unbelievable. But it is true. Anyway, maybe this
will help prevent others from suffering similar misfortune.
I was living in Denver, Colorado at the time. The year must have
been around 1993. The perpetrators were already attacking me with this
through-the-wall weapon, but I had no idea that they were many in number and government-involved, or even that they had a through-the-wall weapon. I knew that I was being attacked because
strange people were stalking me and harrassing me in public, and because at night
I was somehow being suffocated. I thought I was being gassed, but I
didn’t know who was doing it or why. I did not feel safe living alone, so I
went to live in the Denver Youth Hostel.
The management of the Denver Youth Hostel was substandard, to say
the least. There were two young managers, not out of their twenties and
both from Australia. They were openly and extremely racist, always
proclaiming (without anyone asking them) that they hated all blacks, and
swinging baseball bats in an aggressive way while saying this. (Apparently
they kept baseball bats behind the desk for who-knows-what purpose.)
Under any other circumstances, I would not have stayed at this youth
hostel, but I didn’t feel safe living in my apartment.
Now, you may know that most youth hostels have a “group sleeping”
or dormitory environment: there are several beds in one room, and you
end up sleeping beside total strangers. I had been sleeping at the youth
hostel for several weeks, when one night one of the managers told me I
had been “moved” to another room. When I got to that other
(dormitory-style) room, there were many people already there. Probably 10 or 12
other people were in that room. The beds were bunk beds, with
one person sleeping above the other. I’m guessing there were twelve or
so bunk beds, each sleeping two people—one above and one below. There
was a wall that divided the room into two halves, and a bathroom at
the end of the second half. There was only one door to the whole room,
and it had a lock and could be locked from the inside or outside. The
room itself was on the second or third floor of the youth hostel; I don’t
remember which now. It was not on the first floor.
Remember that I really didn’t know what was happening to me at this
time. I didn’t know that criminals within the American government/military, with great power at their disposal,
were trying to hurt me. I thought maybe the people hurting me were just a
few rogue gangsters associated with this awful woman I once knew (more
about that later). I actually felt safer sleeping around others.
I had no idea that these people, in this room, were actually there to
When I first met the other occupants, they were indeed very
friendly to me—I would say too friendly. They wanted to know
everything about me. They endeared themselves to me and avowed that they
wanted to be my friends. This was all during the first evening that I
moved into that room! A bunch of them and I even went out to dinner that night—I
worked for a restaurant company at the time and was able to secure a
discount for my new “friends”. That first night, sleeping in the lower bed of a
bunk bed, there were no problems. But on the other side of the room
(behind the dividing wall) there were actually men and women in the same
bunk, and I remember the appalling realization that I was walked
through the room to get to the bathroom, couples were having sex in front of
me in the bunks. I even announced before walking into the second half
that I was coming through to get to the bathroom so that I wouldn’t
have to see couples “doing it.” I am not a voyeur and quite honestly the
notion of being around complete strangers having sex disgusts me.
But I stayed in this room because I actually felt “safe” around my
new friends. It turned out to be a very false sense of security. The
next night (the second night), a Friday, when I got to the room,
everyone was already amazingly in their beds and the lights had been turned off.
Someone was in the bunk above me but the covers were pulled over this
person. No one was moving or talking; everyone was much too quiet. It
was early still, as I recalled—probably only around 10:00pm or so. But
I didn’t want to disturb anyone else so I, too, just went to bed. I
climbed into the lower bunk and laid down, my back against the bed and my
head facing upward. I remember seeing one other thing before I got into bed—two large, black, very sturdy and strange-looking suitcases near
the door. I went to sleep.
I remember slowly falling asleep, and just as I started to enter
deep sleep, I remember the strangest sensation. It was like a drowning, a
deep, deep, deep loss of consciousness. Almost like death, if death can
be imagined by the living. Remember that this was a Friday night. I
had had a pretty good day on Friday and was not too tired. I had big
plans for the following day, Saturday. I would never see that day, because
I didn’t wake up until Sunday morning. I lost a day of my life and
I will probably never know exactly what happened during that
You must understand—and it is not too hard to believe—that of
course I normally got up every day. I was very busy. I was still young—in 1993 I
was 25 years old. But somehow I had just slept from Friday evening
completely through to Sunday morning. But here is the truly weird thing: When
I woke up, it felt to me as though only a half-hour had
passed. When I found out what day and time it was, I simply could not
believe it. I have never in my life continously slept for that long a
period of time before or since. What’s more, when I woke up,
everyone was gone. Not a person was left in the room. And the door to
the room was locked. My guess is that whoever had left last had
locked the door and closed it behind them.
There were some other strange things. Not only did it feel as if
only a half-hour (30 minutes) had past, but I had no recollection of
getting up or even turning in my sleep in all that time. After I awoke, and
checked my watch to find out what time it was, I went to another part
of the building to take a shower. In the mirror I noticed something
curious: there was a bandage on my forehead. I had not put it there.
It was a small bandage covering a spot in the middle of my forehead.
The problem was, I know for sure that I had neither injured my forehead
nor put a bandage on it. Someone else had put a bandage on my forehead
during the time that I was “unconscious”. The question is, why? I
took off the bandage and saw that underneath the bandage it had been
bleeding. There was a small, scabbed over area. What had happened? I pushed
on the area with my fingertip and felt dizzy! The world—my
vision—turned white and I felt very strange. I pushed on it a few times and the
result was the same every time, so I stopped pushing on it.
Eventually the scab fell away, leaving a small scar on my forehead
that is still there to this day. So the question is, what happened? And
here, of course, I must speculate. I believe the people in this
particular room were here for the express purpose of hurting me in a
particular way. My guess is that the man in the bed above my own, with the
covers pulled over him, was also hiding one of these “through-the-wall”
weapons. Probably he shot me right in the middle of the forehead at this
very close range, just as I was falling asleep, resulting in my loss of
consciousness (and the loss of a day of my life). But the bigger
question is, Why? Why did they do this? What did they stand to gain? And the
answer to that is, I really don’t know. Did they do something to me
while I was unconscious? I have heard stories of “implanted devices”
on the Internet, but I have absolutely no proof or knowledge of this
being done to me; this is the purest speculation.
If not implants, then what? Just because they could? Was it to make me more “impressionable” or “controllable”? It certainly did not have that effect. Or possibly they wanted to perform some sort of “electronic labotomy”. Some years later, I went to a doctor and had a complete MRI brain scan done. I noticed that it looked like the front, central “tip” of my brain had been “chopped off” or “truncated,” but of course this is just the impression of a non-medical-professional (me). Was it just a show of power? Was it just to intimidate? I also know that this seems to smack of the “mark of the beast” referred to in the Bible. But I am not the slightest bit religious and don’t believe in this. Was it to make me seem like a religious fanatic? The truth is, I don’t really have the answer: to this day I do not know why, exactly, they did this, and what happened during those lost hours.
I do know this, however. Later on, I saw the manager who had moved me to the new room where this all had happened. I did not yet, at that time, suspect him of wrongdoing, and actually I was friendly to him: I offered him a piece of beef jerky that I had bought at 7-Eleven (for those who don’t know, 7-Eleven is a convenience store that sells all sorts of foods and drinks). He actually said to me, “This is poison, isn’t it?” Of course it wasn’t poison. I was eating it too.
Another interesting tidbit: In the weeks prior to this, when I was living in a different room in the youth hostel, I would go in the evening to a communal lounge to watch TV and sit on the sofa. Near the sofa they had some magazines. One of them was an issue of US News and World Report that had an amazing article in it: It was all about how the US government had tortured and experimented on people, completely with grizzly photographs! I wish now I had just stolen that magazine. I have looked for that particular copy of US News and World Report but have yet to find it again; I think this was “planted” there for me to find. Maybe the information in this magazine was true, but somehow I suspect that this was not a real issue of that famous news magazine. I have gone to a library and searched the index for US News and World Report for a similar article but have found nothing. Who knows, maybe it really was a real issue of the magazine; if you find this article, please let me know.
There is one more thing: I have seen a similar scar, in a similar position, on the foreheads of many other people. I have even seen it on children as young as twelve. Now, there may be some other explanation for all these forehead scars, but it just seems to be too, too common for this all to be coincidence. Next time you meet someone for the first time, look at their forehead and see if this they have this small, circular- or oval-looking scar in the middle of their forehead, or on the left or right part of the forehead. I see it everyday, all the time. It’s on the foreheads of movie stars: Examine your favorite movies closely, especially when the camera does a close-up shot on an actor, and if you look carefully you may notice it. Certainly not every actor (or non-actor) has this scar, but many do. I have seen this scar on the foreheads of literally hundreds of different actors in hundreds of different movies dating back as early as the 1960’s (and continuing to the present), which makes me suspect that this weapon has been around at least that long.
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
I believe I am not the only victim out there; that is, I believe there are also other victims out there who are tortured by corrupt groups using this “through-the-wall” weapon, for lack of a better term. From time to time I would like to point out some other websites that post experiences that are in some ways similar to my own. Please note that I do not know these people and I cannot vouch in any way for the accuracy of what they say. It is possible that some of these sources are actually corrupt persons purposely providing disinformation; but I am inclined to believe that at least some of the sources are describing their experiences as accurately and honestly as they can. At any rate, here is
one possibly honest source.
Thursday, July 5, 2007
A government connection
I have mentioned many times that the perpetrators are connected with the American government and military. There is also a connection between my own family and the American government. Many of my relatives have worked for Lockheed, a defense contractor (a company that provides services and/or products to the American military). I myself also worked for a short time for a defense contractor called Ford Aerospace, in Newport Beach, California. I worked there for about three months in the late 1980’s (maybe 1989). I was just a temporary worker there; I had no access to any classified documents or military secrets whatsoever. I did administrative work for the AIM9R (Sidewinder missile) team. They did want to hire me though—to bring me on as a permanent worker. I didn’t want to. Working there, I saw some behavior that disturbed me. I remember once that there was a party (with food, drinks, etc.) to celebrate some "kills” using the missile in some part of the world. I understand the importance of national defense and of having effective missiles but I just couldn’t feel right about celebrating their use. I will say that being in the military or working in the defense industry is in fact one of the most difficult jobs you can ever do: You need to do have absolute dedication toward your work while, at the same, not enjoying it. The same could be said of the police: You want officers who take their job very seriously but who do not actually "enjoy" the use of lethal or nonlethal violence against a suspect. When you start to enjoy such work you begin to cross the line from defender to perpetrator. It is the most difficult kind of job in which the work you do is absolutely critical and yet, at the same time, you morally shouldn't be enjoying what you do. Anyway, there was just something weird about the place and working there just wasn't for me.
A relative of mine (passed away many years ago) may have been CIA. Of course this is speculation on my part; but the details of his life are very suspicious. I rarely saw him; he often spent months or years at a time out of the country. I once asked another relative what he did for a living, and she told me that he just bummed around foreign countries (that he basically had no job). The last time I saw him, we talked for an afternoon and actually got along really well. He seemed like a very nice person. He spoke at least three different languages. He soon returned to a foreign country, and it wasn’t too long after that that I heard he had been murdered there. Supposedly he was the victim of a man robbing a store. But at his funeral, the rabbi (I think he was a rabbi) spoke and said he hoped there would be justice for his “assassins” (and that is the exact word he used). Because of the mention of “assassins,” the fact that he spoke several foreign languages, and the fact that he was in other foreign countries for years at a time, it seems to me that he may have been CIA. Perhaps it is because I am related to him that, for some strange reason, I have been tortured (perhaps by the CIA) for so long.
A little more background info
I thought I would give a little more background info on myself. I am 39 years old. I got my Bachelor’s of Science in Linguistics and Computer and Information Science in 2006. I graduated Phi Beta Kappa—Oregon Six with a GPA of 4.08. So I am not an entirely stupid human being. Of course, doing well in school doesn’t prove anything, and my assertions should always be evaluated on their own merits. But I just wanted to give a little more information about myself.
Now here comes the embarrassing part. I am still a virgin. That’s right—a 39-year-old virgin. One more year and I will be tied with the title character of the movie you are probably already thinking of (The 40-Year-Old Virgin). However, I am not the nerdy character of that movie. Why am I a virgin, then? Because I don’t want to see anyone else get hurt. The criminals attacks anything I love, including women. This is why I have, for most of my adult life, avoided dating. I made a mistake and let down my guard here in Beijing and went on a few dates with two beautiful women. I truly regret it. Now, I cannot prove that the perpetrators shot them with this weapon; I can only relate to you what I saw happen. Let’s call them Date #1 and Date #2 to keep things anonymous. I was sitting with Date #1 at a table in a restaurant, having lunch. She was eating some food. Suddenly, unexpectedly, she violently started coughing and spitting up food, turning red in the face, unable to breathe even for several seconds and breathing heavily and painfully for the next minute or so. This is a classic “shot to the throat,” only they did it to my date, not to me. I know the symptoms because they’ve done it to me before. Could she just have choked on a piece of food? It’s possible, but I don’t think it has the same symptoms or effect. The effect of the weapon is instantaneous: one moment, she was peacefully eating; the next moment she spraying a fountain of food everywhere and gasping for air. She was not eating too fast or gulping down her food. At any rate, my impression is that she was attacked by the same weapon they attack me with.
Date #2 and I were just walking down the street when Date #2 stopped in her tracks, clutching her eye for several minutes. Her eye hurt her. But there was no wind at all. There was nothing in her eye. And my guess is that they shot her in the eye in much the same way that they have shot me in the eye. Again, it is impossible in these situations to prove anything; but I saw the look of pain and discomfort on my dates’ faces, and I don’t want to see it again. Needless to say, I haven’t been on any more dates. I don’t want to see anyone else get hurt. Over the years there have been many girls who have expressed an interest in me, and whom I would have loved to have as my girlfriend and—who knows—maybe even wife; but now you understand why this could never be possible, and why I remain a 39-year-old lonely man.
Tuesday, July 03, 2007
It’s not so hot right now—just 33 degrees Centigrade in Beijing.
Physical update: Lately they’ve been shooting me a lot in the eyes and heart.
I’ve seen some interesting links on the Internet lately. I think things are starting to change in this world, but very slowly. I remember how ten years ago there were very few victims’ websites (websites from people experiencing problems similar to mine), but now there seem to be more. Also, the truth about some bad things in this world is starting to come out, albeit slowly. If you haven’t seen the below links, you should take a look now:
The first document gives some evidence of a link between the American government and the mafia. Actually, I have heard that such a link dates back at least as far as World War II, when supposedly America used the mafia for military-related objectives in the war. My own experience has been of strangers (people) making “mafia hit signs” at me (see an earlier post) nearly every day of my life; and also, as mentioned before here, at least one respected media member has said that the mafia runs America. As for me, I am not sure “who is running who.” I can't say for sure, and I’m not sure that it matters. As to what labels the perpetrators use for their organization, or to what flag or allegiance they pledge, I really don’t know. What I can tell you is that there are some bad people with great power—some of them in the American government—doing very bad things. Here is an excerpt from the second link above:
In early 1975, CIA Director William Colby told the Justice Department that these documents detailed assassination plots against foreign leaders such as Fidel Castro, the testing of behavior-altering drugs on unwitting citizens, wiretapping of US journalists, spying on civil rights and anti-Vietnam war protesters, opening of mail between the United States and the Soviet Union and China and break-ins at the homes of ex-CIA employees and others.
I am very ashamed at some of the things my country’s (America’s) government has done and is doing; but perhaps things are changing. After all, the CIA did release these recent documents of their own accord; perhaps things are getting better. Or perhaps these are just half-truths, or there is some spin here. I really don’t know. To the degree that the CIA or American government is changing for the better, this is encouraging news. The reports seem to indicate that these days are behind the CIA, yet still we hear claims of torture and abuse, as with the allegations of CIA-sponsored overseas prisons:
Europe honors HRW for exposing CIA jails
At any rate, I remain cautiously hopeful that things are changing for the better and rejoice at any positive changes that may be taking place in America. That said, I also think there is a lot of “disinformation” out there—information that is purposefully misleading—so we must always be cautious. It goes without saying that you should read everything here on my website—and on any other—with skepticism and should never take anything at face value. Make up your own mind. Think for yourself. Analyze what is being said and see what makes sense to you. This is the foundation of democracy.