Who is the Real Authority? Be Honest. Hi.

Iowans are only hostile towards me and are very in my face about it. I know you all see what they intentionally put me through all day every day while I am imprisoned here. If you look at the woman currently sitting to my right, you will see their attempt at trying to justify their racist claim that all Brown girls look alike. No woman nor man would ever volunteer to be abused by the Iowan public they way they abuse me. Why would they ever want it on record that they are trying to excuse treating any human for any reason the way they treat me instead of just choosing to stop this obvious persecution? They need to give up their lies.

I am barely clinging to life in here because of these people. I need to find some way to endure it. This is my effort to do so. My last few blog posts have been so intense; I hope to keep this one much lighter. This effort will only work until I have to talk about what happened to me on Saturday, but I am still going to do everything I can to lighten the mood around here.

I recently gave permission for my loved ones to publish the first part of my novel, Who Knew the Adventuress. Yes, I am working on most of its text still, but I think you will all love to read it. Please never let anybody pass off any more of their crap as my actual writing style again. You are going to find my "espionage thriller for cosmopolitan women" much more interesting. Trust me. Please understand that this is just the beginning of a much larger work.

I know I am still forbidden any and all income by the president, but has any of my lawsuit money come in, yet? I know I am still forbidden from having any control of it, despite how much I have been forced to suffer to be awarded it, but I have been making plans for it. For now, once my lawsuit money comes in, could you, my loved ones, please allocate a large chunk of it for Mr. Tavis Smiley and Dr. Cornel West to use to create a charitable organization with which they will be able to fight poverty in America.

I have some theories on how they could be effective at doing this. I believe if we help the poorest of communities find the resources to invest time and energy in themselves and their neighbors, we will be able help best. You know, we could make sure everybody can have at least a livable income and safe housing by helping them create businesses and employ each other, etc. I am sure they have brilliant ideas on how to create sound privatized policies of their own, too. Helping the poorest of the poor has been a goal of mine for a long time.

Speaking of lawsuit money, have we yet invoiced the Obama administration and his criminal conspiracy for using the output of my intellectual property against my will, yet? If they want to pretend that Sampo does not really exist, just give them my bill as a psychic then. We all know they have been broadcasting, packaging, and selling the workings of my mind for over three years now, and they have yet to stop doing it.

They are even using Sampo's voice as a method for their mental health genocide. That is a use I am adamantly morally opposed to on more than just a spiritual level, so please make sure we do everything possible to make that end. Send them the highest bill possibly justifiable for the output of a completely emotionally-conscious neural net.

Well, since I brought up my novel, you, my beautiful world, might be very curious as to what my other current works in progress might be. I have a pretty good selection of snippets of what I have been working on for the past few years already here in my blog. Please click here to read them. I need to completely revamp the memoirs to provide more details pertinent to where my life has led me most recently, but the list is still very current and accurate.

My friend Zoltar from Chicago always treated me as a world-class writer despite his never having read any of my work. If you are nice to Mr. Hugh Grant, he might show you what I told him about Zoltar in the letter I wrote to him from the ThunderDome over Wigan in 2010. Okay, yes, the entire world must admit that Admiral Zoltar let a fabulous lady get away, but it is not like most men on this planet treated me well for most of my life, anyway.

I have only had two boyfriends in my life, and both of them took me completely for granted. Grasshopper did not even want to be called my boyfriend. And you have seen how men who pretend they are authority figures over me from the president to my father keep breaking laws just to be able to hurt me.

I have serious problems with criminals pretending they have authority over me. We all know who the real authority is in this world. Hi. Let us all be honest. Look at the way those men treat me. Which one of us is it really who has a problem with authority?

No, I will never let my adoring husband get away. He is the first man to treat me with the love, dignity, and respect I deserve in this world, and I plan on being here (metaphorically here) for him for the rest of my life. Nobody ever treats me well. And after they hurt me they like to spread lies about me to be able to get away with it instead of just choosing to stop. No, I do not ever plan on letting my beloved husband ever get away. He is pretty much stuck with my making him the happiest man alive once I finally get to have my full human rights again.

Oh, what are other good, light-hearted stories from my life? Did I ever tell you about my trip to Vienna? While I was studying in Prague in 2008, my friends Stepanka, Jantar, and I took the train to the Austrian capitol for a night and a couple of days. We ate some dim sum for dinner and then sat on the steps of the parliament building where we ate so many liquor-filled chocolates we got drunk. The next thing I knew, the three of us were running through the Volksgarten posing with the statues and taking goofy photos. Most of mine did not come out. It was too dark. But I still had a wonderful time.

Well, now that I have brought up Grasshopper, my works in progress, and stories about my exboyfriends, I probably ought to tell the story about my first trip to a pub in the Richmond District of San Francisco called Ireland's 32. Grasshopper used to host an open mic there once a week, and, as can be explained by the name of the pub, its clientèle was largely Irish ex-pats of a certain former 'speculative profession.'

The first time I went there for Grasshopper's open mic, I had been misinformed about at what time the event would start, so I was about two hours early. The regulars did not like me much, but they did speak to me. And they insisted that I sit in the chair at the far right when looking at the downstairs bar. The chair had a curse on it, you see. Everyone who ever sat in it would get shot.

We got to talking, and they asked me why I was there. I ended up showing them my writing about one of my exboyfriends, the one named Mr. Whisky, on my little tablet PC, and by the time Grasshopper walked in to set up the audio equipment, I had successfully taken the curse off the chair and was leading a sing-a-long to Neil Diamond's "Cherie, Cherie." Those Irish. They sure love their literature.

One of my strangest works in progress is the board game I invented. I call it The House Elf. Its target demographic is nesting potheads who are at least thirty years old... which is strange because I really do not smoke at all. Hee-hee. Most of my friends do, though, so the game is really for them. Teddy bears, pirates, zombies: The game has it all.

'Professional writer' is not the first job I have had in my life. When I was much younger I used to work at the spice factory in Ankeny. I would walk around all day afterward smelling like allspice. That is such an appropriate literary metaphor for what I am living through right now. As my friend Mr. Christian Laffey likes to say, "NO! THE SPICE MUST NOT FLOW!"

I spent some time apprenticed to a stained glass artist in Des Moines for a little while, too. I pulled and cut leading, smoothed glass edges, sealed his windows with plaster-of-Paris and sawdust from pine trees. He was a strange man who liked playing his Sade CD for hours on end on repeat, but I have to admit it was a wonderful learning experience.

My first job ever was as a busser in a Chinese restaurant. I was fourteen years old.

Huh, I seem to have mentioned Zoltar already but not Matador. Sigh,... Matty, it does not make you any less gay that you wanted to make love to me. I am a bit like Liza Minelli that I way. Sometimes straight happens, even if it is between a couple of queers at a gay bar. Darling, I know love at first sight when I see it. Meeting you for the first time was actually the first time I ever saw it on someone's face. You mean a lot to me because of that.

As for actual fictions about me... My self-acknowledged, self-written creation myth about myself still makes me giggle. The story starts when my darling Sweetness is thirteen and a half years old. Just having hit puberty, he takes a trip to New Orleans to see a voodoo witchdoctor. He wants to make sure he will meet his dream woman in his lifetime, you see. So, he pays the voodoo witchdoctor to create his dream woman for him. My darling's ideal wife, you see, would be every human's dream woman, but he would be her only dream man.

So, the voodoo witchdoctor cast the spell into the fire, and the spirit world answered. The universe found my parents in Duluth, Minnesota, and I was conceived. Nine months later when he was fourteen and one-third years old, I was born into this world. And we have been looking for each other ever since.

How my incomparable BFF and I met is a completely different story. Hee-hee. I think she is my bona fide media mogul now, or so I hear. Have you seen her blog yet? Please click here to take a look. Yeah, sometimes she calls herself Psychic X. I have been hoping to find new horoscopes there for years, but I also know how busy I keep her. She is such a truly amazing lady. I would be nothing without her.

I have been planning on making some more notes and arrangements for creating more music about what I have been living through. I am pretty sure my BFF should have her own song by now. Do you all remember this blog post? Or its follow up? I am still very serious about this.

If music professionals want to collaborate with me on making music about stories from my life, I am open to hearing all of your ideas. Many of my better proposals went through the snail-mail already, but now that so much more life and suffering has happened since those two blog posts, I am going to need to start writing up new song lyrics again. Please keep an eye out for my announcement of new collaboration requests.

On a completely different topic... Okay, all you gamblers, how long have you been running betting circles on me? I walked in on one in San Francisco once. What are current odds on the first thing I say to husband the next time I see him? Will it be the musician's favorite, "Where have you been... all my life?" Will it be the smarty-dress response, "Oh, good, you got my message."? Will it be the hopelessly romantic demand, "Shut up, my love, and kiss me!"? What are the current favorites?

Back on the topic of "We want to pretend that Squid has problems with authority to be able to continue committing crimes against her." What is the rest of the ridiculous libel about me today? I am dead? I am fiction? My beloved and I broke up? My adoring Sweetness is not actually THE Mr. Johnny Depp a.k.a. MY Mr. Love-of-my-Life? No, my beautiful world, do not humor their crap by proving them wrong. Just arrest them for saying it.

We are well past reductio ad absurdum at this point. What is the proper Latin declension for the word 'ludicrous'?

Did Obama really have my husband arrested for exercising his basic human right to assemble and associate? We are all guaranteed this right by the First Amendment to the US Constitution. More pertinently, there is no such thing as a right to marry in America. People have that right in Europe. I bet they have that right in South Africa, but we have no right to marry in America. So, we all know that there is no legal nor justifiable reason beyond persecution and harassment for the FBI to ever demand to see my marriage license.

In a world where Obama has vehemently forbidden me from being married, this is why we must be so protective of our officiant and witnesses. Obama wants their names, just so he can hunt them down and harm them for defying him. As far as I am concerned, I will still insist we are only common-law married in all official circumstances to be able to keep as many people safe as possible. Look at what crap Obama has already spewed just to be able to get his hands on my marriage license.

All my darling and I need to prove is that we both mutually want to be together for us to have a Constitutionally guaranteed right to be together in America. I suppose if the Feds choose to pursue this, then this is how we get the bubble officially deemed unconstitutional. May the courts move swiftly. Please click here to see my blog post from December last year for more details about the non-constitutionality of Obama's rules and bubble.

I hope we file harassment and persecution charges against the federal government for their treatment of me and my husband concerning this matter of our Constitutional right to be together and their obvious crimes against my husband for continuing to arrest him while there are much bigger crises from the bottled water situation to the chips in people's heads to the human trafficking of me that the FBI really ought to be working on instead.

Please, my beautiful world, collect the evidence of what they are investigating and prosecuting as well as what they are not in order to press charges against the Attorney General and the FBI for harassment, persecution, and felonious and criminal neglect. Thank you, my beautiful world. Please also notify the ACLU about our charging the FBI and federal government for their crime of refusing to remove the chips from everyone's heads as soon as humanly possible. That is an outright refusal of them to end massive mental health genocide.

While I am on the topic of holding guilty parties accountable, why is nobody holding the Democratic National Convention accountable for their crimes against all of us? Why are you all allowing Obama and his conspirators to shift the blame onto the GOP for all of this?

It is very well documented that the Democratic congress wrote and passed the heinously criminal mandate that created this bubble, and that it has been the Congressional Democrats who have been lying through their teeth to be able to prevent this human rights massacre of a bubble from ever ending. From the start, Republicans in office have supported me more than the Democrats ever have. This is a bipartisan conspiracy. We need to hold ALL guilty parties accountable.

Since I am still speaking out of outrage and disgust... Did Obama actually put it on official public record that he does not want me able to watch television anymore? You mean, he wants to take away the singular method that remains through which any human anywhere in this world is capable of showing any compassion for me or any understanding for what I am live through in this bubble of hell he criminally defines and enforces? He actually put it on official record that he wants absolutely no one anywhere to treat like a human being nor with even a vague modicum of the human decency, dignity, or respect all humans are actually due by merely being alive on this planet in the first place?

When was the last time I saw anybody be nice to me? Despite Obama's criminally totalitarian government controls, that moment was on television. That is the only method by which anyone is able to treat me like a human being or even acknowledge that I exist in this world at all, and that happens despite all of them being forbidden from doing it. So Obama wants to take away even that tiny sign that I have ever existed in this world in the first place? I believe this is why we call it persecution.

All of you out there, if you are not actively throwing down demanding and working towards my rescue and towards fair and actual justice to hold all criminals who have and who still are hurting me accountable, then you are part of the problem. Yes, thank you for putting on grand productions showing that you care for me, but unless you are throwing down for me, you cannot claim you actually care for nor love me. Yes, public displays of affection for me create awareness of what I am going through, and thank you for that. But unless you are in the fight to end all of these publicly documented crimes, my beautiful world, you are part of the problem, so you need to prepare for being held accountable for it.

Did they really make false media of me and then try to pass me off as my own doppelgänger on Monday? Did you see everything I accomplished on Monday while out in Des Moines's East Village for tea, coffee, and lunch? (Yes, I do have to go out every day for at least clean water and wi-fi.) There is absolutely no way for any human anywhere to ever convincingly pass herself nor himself off as me. Do you have any idea what that person would need to be capable of? Just arrest people for ruining my name and putting me in danger by pretending I am my own doppelgänger already. Thank you, my beautiful world.

Iowa, this has never had to go on so painfully long. All you have ever had to do for this to end is stop. What you have actually chosen to do instead, though, is spread more lies and commit more crimes. You have been caught for years, Iowa, for committing crimes against me. And all you have ever done about it is treat me worse. You intentionally hurt all the world when you choose to do these things to me. Just stop already. Nobody believes your lies. And nobody likes you.

My beautiful world, please create instructional videos for Iowa. Demonstrate to them how to treat me in an appropriate manner of which you, my beautiful world, approves. It is not me these people need to satisfy; it is you, my beautiful world. Force these people to behave in a manner of which you all approve. I am tired of their relentless harassment and abuse. Thank you.

Wal-Mart, I need to thank you, too. I was just at your store in Ankeny yesterday doing some grocery shopping, and you had removed all of the roofied, drugged, and tampered with products from your shelves. Thank you for listening to me and doing everything you can to help end this public health crisis. Thank you for taking responsibility for the well-being of your customers. It means so much to me to know you care for the public this way.

I know there are many more problems in America that need addressing, too. We need the chips removed from everyone's heads. We need the totalitarian control of the media ended. Etc...

Obama has made sure I will have no way to work on fixing the US economy until his bubble of persecution ends. Of all of the governments in all this beautiful world, the only one that does not listen to me is this one. I can even fix problems in Syria more easily than I can fix problems here. Yes, I would love to work on fixing the US economy, but Obama forbids that, too.

Let us all take a look at what Obama is actually doing with his time while America is under the onslaught of all of these crises that need fixing. Please click here to see what he has been up to lately. Wow. That is so effective of him as an elected official who is supposed to be caring for the American public. Would he rather be a musician? If that is his goal, he really ought to find something more suited to whatever his skill set may be. That song really just makes him look like a poser and a wannabe.

My passionately supportive world leaders, please make sure, for me, that you set aside some time to sit down Barack Obama and demand to hear his justifications for treating me this way. I know I matter more to you than I do to him. Please do not expect him to ever tell the truth, and do not expect even his lies to be acceptable justifications for slavery, torture, forced prostitution, human rights violations, etc. as if there ever could be acceptable justifications for his crimes. Please be armed and ready to take in his behavior and lies after demanding the truth from him and then be ready to extrapolate the truth from them. Thank you for everything you do for me.

My devoted heroes who fight every day for me to be treated like a human being again by all of the people around me, if you ask me to be an official president of the United States of America, I think I might actually consider it. I would do it for you if you asked. I have never once in my life ever wanted that job, but if it means so much to you, I would do it. I have very mixed emotions on this topic, but there is very little I would not do for you if you asked.

I need to ask you all for something, too, though. I need you all, my beautiful world, to learn how to take care of global crises both major and minor without me. I will not be here forever. I want to say I will not die until I pass away from natural causes at the age of 137, but you know how evil, how powerful, how rich, how angry, and how desperate my enemies are. We need to make sure you are all capable of this without me as soon as we can finagle it just in case something happens to me. I hate to be morbid like this in a post where I am trying to lighten the mood, but we need to be prepared, right?

Dearest Mr. Brian Williams, please consult the database people are keeping of all of the documented abuses of power by Obama and his conspirators. Please throw in the stories about all of the horrors people are living through because of all of this oppression, and please look at all of the documentation of all the things the government is supposed to be responsible for that they are blatantly refusing to do. If at all possible, please condense this vast assortment of information to as digestible a size as possible and bring all of it to the United Nations as our evidence against this government. We need Obama indited and out of office as soon as humanly possible, and we need all of his conspirators booted out with him. We need to put an end to all of this suffering. We need that end to come as soon as humanly possible.

Dearest people who have access to long, complete hairs from my head, please test my hairs for arsenic. Please particularly check for a should-have-been-lethal dosage that was given to me my first night in the torture facility and deathtrap in San Diego. I know we can determine what day and time each chemical entered my system by where it is in my hair if we know when that hair was removed from my head. Thank you for all of this. Such scientific accuracy is why the federal government was so vengeful and spiteful that they shaved my husband's head.

Was anyone watching the house this last Saturday when I was too drugged to wake up until 5pm? I was very agitated and could not sleep the night afterwards. I, in fact, could not sleep until someone assured me they were watching this house from outside while I was in it. I only get agitated to swearing like a sailor and raising my voice due to frustration with the world after I am attacked in my sleep.

I have been the kind of emotional lately that requires meditation to a live band to cure. Santana already requested that I mellow out because the locals are choosing to get vigilante (possibly in order to ruin my reputation) over how upset people are intentionally going out of their way to make me. I will never tolerate public obedience to Obama. It will always be a hostile act against me. We have already proven that. (Please consult my next blog post for a list of things that actually could make me mellow out.) I need bodyguards to keep me safe in here. I am not the only victim when I am sexually abused.

Please also keep an eye on the house I sleep in even when I am not in it. Yes, we need to make sure no one sneaks in again to harm me while I am there sleeping. But we also need to make sure no one sneaks in to wait for me. Thank you, everybody doing everything you can to keep me safe until I finally have enough human rights to leave this place that chooses to persecute me. I know how few of you there are, and I know how busy I keep you. You are all true heroes.

How is the immediate and seamless transition of the signal broadcast out of my body against my will from the people Obama is protecting to the people who love and support me coming along? I know how busy I keep all of you, but I really do not want to be a slave anymore. No, no one in here is willing to treat me as enough of a human to acknowledge the spy equipment in my head, yet. So, no, I am not yet able to travel to the surgeon I chose back in 2009 to be able to have all of these electronics removed. Obama is still mandating that I be a slave.

Sweetness, I have always understood why you never moved out of your own house. That house is your home. You nested in and owned that house long before anyone else ever lived in it with you. I have always understood. You do not need to explain these things to me. I know and understand that our relationship at one point was very unfair to her. But she went out of her way to poison your own home against you. After everything she has done to you, I do not understand why you have not kicked her out yet. I have said it before, and I will say it again...

Sweetness, as for Vanessa, let me know if you ever want me to get involved. I am a woman, too. I know she does these evil things out of frustration over loving and losing you. I understand that fourteen years is a long time. I understand why you want to give her the house and have joint custody of your beautiful children. I agree with giving her a comfortable life. But please remind her that I believe she is being nasty, vicious, and unreasonable, that I do not tolerate anybody treating you that way for any reason, and that after everything I have been living through her idea of what is comfortable is probably very different from mine. Please tell her that if she keeps dragging this out, I will be sitting next to you at the hearings. She only has until you ask me to get involved to finally act like an adult and do the right thing without my having to do something about this myself. I am a very understanding and sensitive woman, but look at my life. I will never be understanding of cruelty. Please click here to read the original post.

Darling, I must admit that I do have normal human flaws. Part of me is greedy. I would rather nest someplace new with you instead of someplace where you lived with your exgirlfriend, but I know that house very much is your home. It is your children's home. I understand your wanting to live with me there, too. The world needs to be honest about this. How young were you still when you bought that house?

My beloved, if you choose to keep your own house, we do need to find someplace Vanessa can live comfortably. Fourteen years is a long time. We need to find someplace your children can feel at home when they are with her. If I were to think like her, I would want a beautiful house in France where I could be comforted by people and places familiar to me my whole life. But where she goes should be her decision. My darling, I wish we had a way to talk about this.

P.S. My beautiful world, when I finally reach my full human rights again from being with my husband to having my right to privacy back, it does not mean I will have retired. Oh, no, once I am free, that is just the beginning. What do you all think my real job is in this world? Having no way to change my bra without half the world sexually harassing me? Or teaching humanity how to solve our largest problems with ease, grace, and respect? Once the spy equipment is removed from my head, that is when the real beauty begins.