Tag Archives: law enforcement

Doppelganger Dupe: A Halloween Tale . by Alice B. Clagett

Written and published on 8 October 2019

Dear Ones,

Here is a truly odd astral story, and somehow fitting for the approaching Halloween season: Crime families, as the astral story goes, are hiring actors and actresses and training them to mimic their marks so as to walk into the roles of marks that have been ‘snuffed out’.

In the realm of the very weird, these ‘movie doubles’ or ‘mimics’ are purportedly taking over the jobs of corporate heads ‘offed’ by drone warfare and people important to the government of countries.

Along those lines I heard an astral story a few years back that a president of a country was invited to a secluded resort at the beginning of his term in office. In the evening he was offered a liqueur with a lethal drug in it. His lifeless body, roped onto an oak schoolteacher’s chair, was secluded in an underground storm drain that lay beneath a busy city street. The next day his look-alike stepped into his presidential role, and no one was the wiser.

Astral stories like this no doubt are pure stuff and nonsense. But somehow that story struck a nerve in me. Had I had the guts back then, I might have gone spelunking in the underground storm drains of the Greater Los Angeles area, just to make sure nothing like that had happened in our beautiful city. Lord know, I opined, what we might find in the storm drains of Los Angeles. However, then as today, I lacked the guts for that kind of spooky adventure.

On the good side, I am pretty sure that the highest levels of corporate and government security are right up there in terms of knowing whether their important people are true blue or imposters. No doubt their security techniques are first rate.

Were the astral rumors of ‘doppelganger dupes’ to have any basis in fact, the greatest trouble might be had by those of us who are not up to speed on mimicry, as may be the case with potential marks for confidence games and elder scams.

In love, light and joy,
I Am of the Stars

For more on this topic, search my blog for the term: mimicry

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Except where otherwise noted, “Awakening with Planet Earth” by Alice B. Clagett … https://awakeningwithplanetearth.com … is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License (CC BY-SA 4.0) … https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/ ..

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law enforcement, crime, confidence games, crime families, drug war, drone warfare, corporations, government, doppelganger, Los Angeles, mimicry, elder scams, murder,

Cybercrime: Thumbprint Database Thefts? by Alice B. Clagett

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Written and published on 8 October 2019

Dear Ones,

On the psychic plane I heard some awful cybercrime news: I heard that some of the sports club chain databases have been breached, and the thumbprints used to sign customers in for use of the facilities stolen by crime families.

Why would crime families do this? My guess is they could use the thumbprints to forge documents requiring thumbprints as verification of authenticity. One appalling purpose might be the production of fraudulent wills, such as those that have the thumbprint of the testator (the person whose will it is) instead of their signature …

Link: “Making Your Mark: Using a Fingerprint When a Testator Cannot Sign the Will,” by Jennifer F. Hillman, Esq., in Lexis Nexis: Estate and Elder Law … https://www.lexisnexis.com/legalnewsroom/estate-elder/b/estate-elder-blog/posts/making-your-mark-using-a-fingerprint-when-a-testator-cannot-sign-the-will ..

For example, if the mob kidnapped an elderly person who had signed up at a health club using signature identification, and if the mob had breached the health club’s signature database … say via what might be an ever-changing array of front desk personnel, cleaning staff, and exercise class instructors … then the person might be found dead … perhaps through a forced recreational drug overdose … and the caregiver (a mob person, or a person on the dole to the mob) might produce the fingerprinted fraudulent will, which he or she had witnessed. And the estate might go to the mob boss or his money laundering attorney(s).

Well, this is terrible psychic news, is it not? Of course, one must keep in mind that psychic intel might be a preview of an event that has not yet arrived, or might be a warning about an event that will not actually happen because people get wise to what might occur.

For those in the legal field, I guess the takeaway is that signature authentication of documents is no longer a slam dunk.

In the same way, body mark identification no longer proves that a person has an intimate relationship with another person, as body marks are easily discerned and recorded on handhelds at beaches and in sports club dressing rooms.

In love, light and joy,
I Am of the Stars

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law enforcement, crime, confidence games, crime families, cybercrime,

The Man with the Serrated Scimitar . a story by Alice B. Clagett

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Happened on 13 June 2019; published on 4 October 2019

Dear Ones,

On 13 June 2019 I parked my car at the trailhead at the end of Decker School Road in northwestern Leo Carrillo State Park in the Santa Monica Mountains, California, and began a walk along Nicholas Flat Trail, which leads to Nicholas Pond and then down to the Pacific Ocean, had one a yen to walk that far. The thing I remember most vividly about that walk was this …

I parked my car at the trailhead and began walking along the trailhead. There was a gentle rise to my left, and a gentle descent into a dry streambed to my right. It looked to me as if the terrain had been burned over during the great Woolsey Fire that began in early November 2018, and burned about 100,000 acres of land in the Santa Monica Mountains …

Link: “2018 Woolsey Fire,” at National Park Service … https://www.nps.gov/samo/learn/management/2018-woolsey-fire.htm ..

I heard two men conversing from down the trail in the southerly direction I was heading; from the sound of their voices, they were heading toward me.

I was carrying my camcorder and dawdling along the trail as I took photos of the landscape and plants along the way.

Pretty soon I saw two young men, maybe in their late 20s or early 30s, coming toward me along the trail. They were strangers to me, walking side by side, and taking up the width of the narrow trail. One was a little taller, maybe nearly 6 feet tall, spare and lean. The other was maybe three inches shorter and a little more muscular; he was an athletic weight for his age.

The shorter man, who approached along the left edge of the trail, was carrying in his right hand a curved scimitar that looked about like this 25 inch stainless steel blade …

Image: “Personalized Scimitar Swords Set with Custom Engraved Text” … https://i.etsystatic.com/16516687/r/il/d98d5f/1885968716/il_794xN.1885968716_efu2.jpg ..

… except that, as I recall with puzzlement, part of the top edge of the scimitar was serrated.

I stepped to the left-hand side of the trail, which was higher and, I felt, more defensible. From that slightly higher elevation I faced the trail. In my left hand was my camcorder.

The man with the scimitar sized me up as he approached, swinging his two-foot steel blade lazily back and forth as he walked. Then his glance fell upon my camcorder, and his energy field contracted slightly.

He said to me: Is that a camera?

I said: Yes.

As the two men drew abreast of me, the hairs of my left leg, which was a foot beyond the left side of the trail, sensed a change in the breeze as the scimitar swung past my lower body. Then the men walked by.

As I waited, I heard them reach their car. Then two car doors slammed. As I looked up, their cars drove back up Decker School Road.

As I began walking farther along the trail, a vision came to me on the astral plane which seemed to me to be the daydream of the scimitar-carrying man. In the dream, the two men were walking together in the southerly direction I had been heading.

They came to terrain that was flatter and more open. A young man was there, standing all alone; it seemed to me he importuned them sexually. In the dream, the man with the scimitar gathered his strength and will to slay the stranger. Then suddenly, the vision vanished.

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Aside from this encounter with the two men, it was a very pleasant outing. I was pleased to find hundreds of tiny California toads hopping through the wetlands around Nicholas Pond. This is indeed a rare sight in Southern California, most likely occasioned, I thought, by the greater than average rainfall last winter.

The pond, too, was more full of water than I had ever seen it before, in my many years of wandering the Santa Monica Mountains.

In love, light and joy,
I Am of the Stars

FOR MORE INFORMATION

Here are photos from the hike on the day described in the story … Link: “Nicholas Flat Trail,” photos by Alice B. Clagett, filmed on 13 June 2019; published on 3 October 2019 … https://wp.me/p2Rkym-env ..

Many of these photos are featured in this video … Link: “Nicholas Flat Trail and the Music of Chris Zabriskie,” compiled by Alice B. Clagett, filmed on 13 June 2019; published on 3 October 2019 … https://wp.me/p2Rkym-eno ..

Link: “Trail of the Month ~~ May 2013: Nicholas Flat” … https://smmtc.org/trailofthemonth/trail_of_the_month_201305_Nicholas_Flat.php ..

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stories by Alice, stories, Alice’s perilous tales, law enforcement, Santa Monica Mountains, hiking, visions, visions by Alice.

Ice . a poem by Alice Clagett

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Written on 19 September 2019; published on 21 September 2019

VIDEO BY ALICE
SUMMARY OF THE VIDEO
- Ice, a poem by Alice B. Clagett, Soundtrack and Words

Dear Ones,

Here is a new poem for you …

VIDEO BY ALICE

SUMMARY OF THE VIDEO

Dear Ones, It’s Alice. I Am of the Stars.

This is a poem called “Ice” …

. . . . .

ICE
A Poem by Alice B. Clagett
Soundtrack and Words
19 September 2019

This is a fictional, narrative poem.

I said, I’m a charity trust trustee
Ought I stay on the board or leave it?

He said, Why live with clutter?

Out of the corner of my eye
I looked round at his office

No papers, no books, no cabinets
Just a laptop and a printer

Ok, I said. I agree

As he handed me the paper to sign
his eyes cut like a razor

. . .

He said, Here are your POA forms
One is for power over health
the other for just about everything else

If you want
my wife and I
can provide that service for you

His eyes looked clear, like river ice
early on, in the winter

Ok, I said. I will sign them

. . .

His eyes turned blue like the midday sky
as he handed me the papers

Here’s a form, he said,
that I always advise
it’s important for your children

After 3 days they pull the plug
it saves them from commotion

I said, I don’t like that form at all!
Look at me – I’m the picture of perfect health
and then, I have no children

His eyes glinted like sun on snow
He said, My advice is to sign it.

. . .

He opened the door to show me out
Then stopped for half a second

My wife, he said, does health massage

I said, May I have her number?

. . .
. . .

She said, I can’t see you at my job
They’re fixing the floor in my office.
I’ll do the massage at our home instead

Her voice was like raspberry jam on toast
Why did that concern me?

What day? I asked
with a frog in my throat

She said, I’ll get back to you

Two weeks later, I found the door
of the place where she and her husband lived

Here, she said, is my new massage table

Her hand touched the cloth
in the way that a priest
offers the Sunday Eucharist

. . .

I don’t disrobe for massage, I said
I hope you can work around that

Her lips froze
Her eyes assessed
Her hip touched the edge of the table gently

Would that be ok? I asked

Ok, she said. Lie down here.

. . .

This is a new technique, she said
You’ll be the first to try it
and she explained cerebrally
the ins and outs of the method

Then out of the blue, it seemed to me,
she said, Do you know Catherine?
I have known her for years, she said
and I really like her

My eyes froze, then relaxed. O yeah.
It’s Catherine that’s working back in town
next door to this young lady

A hunch formed in the back of my mind
Then disappeared
before I could see
more than a claw
or the look on the face of it

. . .

A man in a hat
that concealed his face
walked in from the yard

As he cleared the lintel I saw
the door was still half open

His shadow lay
like a long black line
on the floor at the foot of the table

Who’s that? I asked

O, she said,
He’s just a gawker from next door
You don’t mind, do you?

I said, Yes I do!

The stranger stopped inching towards us

He turned round in the cool dim room
felt for the door with his left hand
and stumbled into the sunlight

. . .

My blood turned hot.
My hands got cold
My heart got a speeding ticket

I sat up.

My gosh, I have to go!
Here, let me pay you

. . . . .

In love, light and joy,
I Am of the Stars

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Except where otherwise noted, this work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.

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poetry, poems by Alice, Wild West, law, law enforcement, 2u3d, murder, confidence games, Alice’s perilous tales,

ADULTS ONLY: Dank . by Alice B. Clagett

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Filmed on 10 September 2019; published on 15 September 2019

VIDEO BY ALICE
SUMMARY OF THE VIDEO

Dear Ones,

Here is a video about a nightmare i had a few days ago. I suggest ADULTS ONLY viewing, as young adults and younger children might find it as upsetting as I did. There is Summary after the video …

VIDEO BY ALICE

SUMMARY OF THE VIDEO

Hello, Dear Ones, It’s Alice. I Am of the Stars.

I had a vision the other day, in the middle of the night … a really horrifying, nightmare vision. It was the kind of horrifying where I was actually there, it seemed like, and one of the actors in the performance … although, in fact, I was just empathically there, and the person that was really there was a young child, a girl child. It was the kind of totally realistic, empathic vision where I had both a vision of the astral plane and of the physical plane … what was going on, as if it were real. So there is that.

The vision went like this: I was in a dugout, an underground home. Its proportions were about 10 feet by 10 feet … about like that. It was tall enough for a person of about 5 feet 8 inches to stand up in. Just a little bit above that was the ceiling.

On one wall … on the south-facing wall … was a painting. It was kind of bluegreen in color, and it was made by tiny fingers … by the young girl’s fingers. It had a bluegreen background, and squiggly lines all over, where the fingers had made a pattern in the painting.

And then, on top of the squiggles and on top of the paint were words written in a cursive hand, probably by the man in the vision. It said something to the effect … I am sorry I did not write it down exactly … to the effect: When you leave this place, do not forget the way of behaving … the role model that they taught you as a child.

Somehow that chilled me to the marrow; it made me think he was one way … and then when he was in public he was disguising that way completely. I thought it was a multiple personality.

So then in the next vision I had, the man was lying down, either on the ground in the dugout, or on a pallet or cloth or light fabric kind of mattress, like a one-inch mattress, on the ground. And he beckoned me … and I was the child … he beckoned me to come over. He was feeling sexual, and the sexual feeling that he had was sadistic. He had a sadistic feeling of wanting to hurt someone; viciously, deeply wanting to hurt someone.

I was suddenly seeing through the young girl’s eyes; suddenly I was lying down right next to him, and so what I could see was this erect penis coming up towards my face. I grabbed it with one hand, playfully tickling it. The man was feeling the utmost vicious feeling at the same time as I was laughing happily as a child. Then the man ejaculated and the whole scene ended.

I, as the channeler, was suddenly flung out of that dugout place: and in the night sky I saw two other figures: One man that I knew to be a serial killer; and another man came in whom I knew to be a serial rapist and serial killer … apparently, like compadre Souls, or astral glommed liaisons of this man, in terms of the energy threads that they all had.

It struck to the very heart of my Soul. It struck me with cold terror.

Well, so … Here is hoping that your dreams are better than that! I hope that they are wonderful, happy dreams. Whatever this energy is that is going on, I hope it is soon gone from Earth, and completely eliminated. I wish the very best for that young child, that she should find safety; a safe place to be, far from that man in that dark, dugout, dank place.

God bless you all, and keep you safe.

In love, light and joy,
I Am of the Stars

This is an addendum: This man that I saw in the vision … this sadist: You will not find him anywhere on the internet. And the other man that came in: You will not find him anywhere on the internet either. And the third man that came in: You might find him everywhere on the internet; but if you try to reach him on the physical plane, you will find yourself speaking to other people who do nothing but dodge the issue and misdirect you.

So all these men are not really ‘there’, in the way that other people are. They are hidden in the crevices of humankind; in the secret places they exist, where other humans cannot find them.

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nightmares, dreams, visions, visions by Alice, societal expectations, roles, social mask, multiple personality, psychiatry, psychology, sadism, pedophilia, serial killers, serial rapists, gloms, safety, catastrophic childhood experiences, law enforcement,

Homed Who Live Next to Homeless Encampments in Los Angeles . by Alice B. Clagett

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Published on 11 September 2019

Dear Ones,

It seems to me there is concern for personal safety among homeowners and their families who live next to homeless encampments in Los Angeles. On mulling over this issue, I came to understand the depth of despair of fathers and husbands who have invested their life savings in providing homes for their families, and whose wives and children can no longer safely leave home at night, because of homeless encampments on their sidewalks or in treed or grassy areas nearby.

It occurred to me that passive defense systems might offer an alternative to taking the law into one’s own hands on behalf of family safety. Along these lines, I thought homeowners might consider installing floodlights that illuminate terrain between them and the homeless encampments at night, so that their families could feel safe to walk out of their houses. I also wonder if high fences around homeowners’ yards might help.

Housing codes regarding the height of property fences can cause trouble with safety in these times, as those who wrote the codes could not have foreseen the current difficulty. Maybe property fencing codes could be got round by using temporary construction fencing in the yard? Maybe it might be sensible to go ahead and put up high fences around the home, with the agreement of one’s neighbors, since getting the codes changed may take some time.

In addition, I thought, it might be possible to install perimeter electronic alarms, that would provide a warning if the yard is trespassed on? Maybe others will come up with passive defense systems for homed families as well.

I know it is not fair to think about putting walls up and protecting our homes. It’s not something we have ever had to do before. Why should we have to do it now? Why should we go to the expense? Why does not the City of Los Angeles just fix the problem? It seems to me that is what folks are wondering, and I have been wondering that too.

Finally it came to me that the City of Los Angeles may not have a solution for us. They may not have the staff, the financial resources, or the flexible problem-solving ability to deal with the question. I say that because the problem has been before LA for 10 years now, and the City has not come up with a solution.

It seems to me that we Los Angeles homeowners must come up with our own solutions. But what will those solutions be? Some feel angry; they feel like hurting the homeless. Others feel afraid; again and again, they ask the Los Angeles Police Department to remove the homeless from their block.

I myself feel that we ought to do my best to find physical deterrents, such as high fences, perimeter alarm systems, and camera surveillance systems to protect our homes from the unhomed, and from roaming felon gangs.

When our homes are as protected as possible, we can feel safe to continue to work with our communities towards good solutions.

I recently went to a meeting of the West Hills Neighborhood Council Committee on Homelessness. It seemed to me they work with the office of the Mayor in a political way. The political approach involves jockeying with the powers that be for application of the City’s very limited financial resources to a problem for which we are lobbying, in our own interests.

Politicking takes time. More than 10 years … that is patently clear. I feel we need to find other grassroots ways to solve this problem.

Right now, I am thinking we could approach West Hills churches, civic groups, clubs, and businesses we belong to or patronize, and ask them what they can do to help. Could be we the people can together find a solution to the problem of West Hills homelessness … a solution that so far has eluded City Hall.

In love, light and joy,
I Am of the Stars

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community health, Los Angeles, West Hills, homelessness, safety, law enforcement, protection, crime prevention, survival, sustainable living, politics, West Hills Neighborhood Council,

Highlights of My Life: My Job at the CIA Long Ago . by Alice B. Clagett

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Published on 1 September 2019

Dear Ones,

I have added some new photos to the highlights of my life … penzu.com/p/c3690bbe … Below is a recap of my job with the CIA, along with the new photos …

From 1970 to 1973 I worked at a fun and challenging job in Foreign Affairs with Joint Publication Research Services (JPRS), a unit within the Central Intelligence Agency (the CIA), which is under the auspices of the Department of Commerce.

I was working at the CIA office in San Francisco, where I was an Editor on the Russian and Chinese Research Desk. Here is more on JPRS … http://www.readex.com/content/joint-publications-research-service-jprs-reports-1957-1995 ..

While I was working there, I married a nuclear submarine operator named Wilbur Monroe Mason, and my name as a member of JPRS personnel changed to ‘Alice Berry Clagett Mason’. (Bill and I were later divorced, and in recent years he passed on.)

In 1973, as a cost-cutting measure, the San Francisco branch of JPRS, CIA, closed down, and they consolidated back to their headquarters at Langley Air Force Base in Virginia, USA. Though this news was unexpected, I was pleased to get a good retirement settlement, and a very nice letter of recommendation from my boss, Mr. Kyuma Mano.

In addition, Mr. Mano gave me a personal gift of a pottery, a beautiful work of art by his wife, with his signature on the bottom, which I treasure to this day …

Image: “Pottery Gift to Alice B. Clagett from Her Boss Mr. Kyuma Mano on Her Retirement from the CIA 1,” by Alice B. Clagett, 1 September 2019, CC BY-SA 4.0

Image: “Pottery Gift to Alice B. Clagett from Her Boss Mr. Kyuma Mano on Her Retirement from the CIA 1,” by Alice B. Clagett, 1 September 2019, CC BY-SA 4.0

Image: “Pottery Gift to Alice B. Clagett from Her Boss Mr. Kyuma Mano on Her Retirement from the CIA 2,” by Alice B. Clagett, 1 September 2019, CC BY-SA 4.0

Image: “Pottery Gift to Alice B. Clagett from Her Boss Mr. Kyuma Mano on Her Retirement from the CIA 2,” by Alice B. Clagett, 1 September 2019, CC BY-SA 4.0

In love, light and joy,
I Am of the Stars

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Except where otherwise noted, this work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.

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autobiography, Secret Service, CIA, law enforcement, Wild West, adventures with Alice, autobiography,

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