When The Birds Hit The Windows


When The Birds Hit The Windows. Essay, Research Paper

On November 24th, 1999, the man that lived in the second house on the

other side of the river took out his rifle and shot himself. I want to

tell you about it; about the things that are going on that could push a

man to such an act.

I can also tell you about that man’s brother, who died in September,

1999, at age fifty-four, from a ruptured blood vessel in the frontal

lobe of his brain. And about his twenty-two year old son who died in an

unexplained accident two weeks later. And of the grandfather, now in

care for the heart attack that followed his son’s suicide.

I can’t tell you about that son’s experiences as I’m not fully informed

on them; but, I can tell you about mine, just a few miles down the road.

What I’m about to describe falls into the appalling and the incredible.

The kind of data that is gratefully dismissed and that one thankfully

ascribes to mental phenomena, reassured that some specialty or another

claims to ‘understand’ it and can even do something about it. Until it

happens to you.

The first thing I took note of, in early 1998, was a visual disturbance

in my right eye. A wiggling shimmer; an occasional ’spark’ in the space

before me; the sudden increase in brightness of whatever I was looking

at with that eye. Then I noticed a crystaline form on my line of sight,

like a small lens. Solitary, spiritual, and open to all types of

communications, I quickly moved through surprise, fear, discomfort,

interest, and, finally, acceptance. I got used to this ‘little lens’ a

few inches from my eye. I got used to the morphing visual effects it

created. I integrated it into my paintings, my walks in the woods, my


Soon, other things were added: I could hear a high-pitched whining sound

and my ears would often ‘click’ or pop; I felt tired, so much so that

when I lay down, I’d drop into a deep unconsciousness that didn’t hear

even the big farm tractors driving in the hay wagons not twenty feet

from the house. Then I’d often feel painful, needle-sharp jabs into my

fingers, especially when I was sitting on the couch, in the same space

for some time. Occasionally, my legs and feet got jabbed too, and an odd

sensation of “pulsing” on the surface of the skin would start on my

stomach, my shoulders, my neck, my head, and any points of contact with

whatever my body was touching.

Walking across the kitchen one day, I got shoved hard from behind. I

avoided the hot wood stove, barely. After that, there were many

incidents of “shock wave” type, especially directed at my head. When I

was working with knives or tools, shock waves would hit my hands. After

a fresh surgical incision was smashed open against a door frame, needing

a fast ride to emergency, I learned to focus my full attention on what I

was doing. Gone the relaxing, soothing motions of sweeping or raking:

the simplest task demanded concentration, with pain the penalty for me,

and damage or breakage the penalty for objects.

I woke from a nap, in the fall of 1998, my skin burning and prickling,

feeling scalded. This happened several times. In a few weeks I was

barely able to move, weakened by diaarhea, my gums and privates

bleeding, my skin peeling, my hair falling out in large amounts each

time I brushed it, my face and abdomen bloated and digestion iffy at

best. In those two weeks, I had lost ten pounds. Strange to feel so

sick, yet have no fever, no cold symptoms and no name-able illness. It

seemed to pass, whatever it was. Not much later, I woke one morning with

a large and painful hole in my gum, going deep under the tooth. Several

rinses a day with iodine and salt in warm water got the ‘infection’

under control, but the sore left a deep and sensitive scar.

The birds had started hitting the windows with dismaying frequency, even

with the glass soaped to eliminate reflections. The squirrels regularly

missed their jumps and fell to the ground, stunned. I watched a

chipmunk run for a hole in the shed door, big enough for a groundhog to

go through. He missed and smashed into the thick wood. By June, 1999,

most of the usual small wildlife had left the area and many of the field

flowers were gone. As were the butterflies and the ladybugs, the snakes

and the toads that worked my organic garden. In the garden itself, for

the second year in a row, my carrot and lettuce crops failed to

germinate and the cucumbers that did grow gave a poor and misshapen


Light aircraft flying low over the area eight to ten times a day, from

February and on through the summer, dropped bands of particles, five or

six inches wide, separated by gaps of about half an inch. The foliage

got increasingly shiny and rain formed very large, iridescent drops that

glittered in even the faintest light. A slick liquid appeared on

everything at ground level, like a fine silicone lubricant. On the skin,

it created a teflon-like coating that penetrated eyes, ears, sinuses,

throat and that wouldn’t come off with soap or detergent. This skin got

very hot very fast when exposed to sunlight, painfully so. Above the

blocked sinuses, temple-area “hot spots” formed.

In June, 1999, new elements were added: a freaky, and frightening,

“drilling” aimed at the sinuses and the palate; and, a noticeable

increase in the electro-magnetic charge at ground level, felt as a

tingle on the lower legs. The electrical charge in the house went way

up, tripping ground fault circuit interrupt outlets to the “off”

position with nothing plugged into them; creating surges in operation of

anything that was on; and, turning the air in the kitchen into a blue

haze of electromagnetic charge. I got very ill from this, my heart

beating at an impossible rate and my brain trying to push its way out

that temple-area hotspot. Chemical bonds in the house were broken by

the charge and everything became gummy. The many paintings in my studio

lost their surface shine, stripped of the polymers and resins that give

pigments their glow.

My neighbour down the road became ill with a disabling vertigo that took

months to get under medical control. Another neighbour and their four

children got coated with this stuff: gummy when wet, waxy when dry, and

impossible to fully remove. Green food colouring stained the “teflon’d”

areas, which we got down to that last unremovable coat with yogourt

scrubs. We hid the horror under a game of “green skinned people” for

the children’s sake. I used ice to cool my temple-area “hot spots”;

the kids used bags of frozen peas.

At the end of June, 1999, I was tracked while visiting away from my

home, by a man in a deep royal blue van. A circular radar-like antenna

rotated on the roof of the van.

I went into the woods and lay down in a wet, swampy hollow. I was soon

found. For four hours, some sort of scanner was used on the front of my

body, leaving red marks in splotchy patterns, and burns where the beam

was focused more strongly. I came out of the woods after the arrival of

a search party moved the tracker off. I gave a full report to the

police officer present and was taken to emergency in an ambulance.

At the mention of the word “laser”, I was shunted off to emergency-room

observation.. No physical examination was done. The next day, I was

seen for a first-time evaluation by the hospital psychiatrist, who after

less than ten minutes, with still no physical examination, announced the

great advances made in modern medicine which enabled him to prescribe a

medication which would protect me from lasers and energies of all kinds.

(Risperdal – which I refused). One can airily dismiss subjective

phenomena; one cannot so easily obfuscate motor vehicles, with or

without rotating antennas. The interpretation of the marks on my body

as “poison ivy” was proven wrong the next morning, when the blotches

were gone and only the burns remained. At my insistence, a physical

examination of my face was done and the points of pain left by the

piercing of the sinuses and palate were located and elicited an

uncontrolled pain response.

Since then, repeated electromagnetic pulsings have destroyed my jaw

tendons and ligaments, created pathways for bacterial penetration into

my sinuses resulting in two major infections needing antibiotic

treatment and created a cyst at the point of damage, chipped the

underside of a molar necessitating its extraction, and kept my body in a

state of high electromagnetic charge necessitating a constant alertness,

repeated electrical grounding and frequent ice packs to lower the

temperature of the crown and temple area hotspots. All these actions

increase and intensify when I succeed in getting the information out and

in alerting people to what is going on.

And I can tell you about all the research I’ve done looking for how and

why and what; looking for realities that explain my actualities; about

finding out that there are thousands of people all over the world who

are living similar realities.

How appalling and incredible, yet still real, the capabilities and easy

availabilities of lasers, laser scanners, infrared remote viewing by

satellite, ultrasound fault detection equipment that can be used to

create shock waves and bubbles of air in tissues, electromagnetic

pulsers, remote generation of gamma radiation by lasers, remote

equipment that can increase electrical flow in house outlets and charge

up objects and people, extremely low frequency signals that bring

anesthesia at 700 Hertz and death at lower frequencies, and more, much


How appalling and incredible that these would be used against humanity

for any reason, yet how very real that there are always elements in a

society that do exactly that. That such activities require extensive

funding and wide collusion, even if achieved by infiltration, is

obvious. That modern technology permits these actions from anywhere on

the planet to anywhere on the planet is more than frightening.

Another young man committed suicide in August, 1999. Before he hung

himself, he told a friend that there was no-one who could help him

because there was no-one who would believe him, and he, himself,

couldn’t do anything.

Neither of these suicide victims knew about lasers, or the internet or

research sites and documented similar occurences elsewhere. Neither had

heard of “psychotronics”, or Psy-ops, or “non-lethal weapons”. They

didn’t know you can buy a “Black Widow” or a “Miranda” or a “Lifeguard”

on the open market and use them to turn another’s intestines to mush,

blind him, make him see things and hear things. That you can use a

construction industry ultrasound fault detection scanner to kill

another, or create shock waves to push him around. About the whining,

clicking and popping produced in the ears by infrasound and ultrasound.

About the devastating effects of increased electromagnetic charge in the


May the hell of not-knowing be replaced by factual reports and public


Then maybe the birds that hit the windows won’t be your friends, your

neighbours, your family, or your self.

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