Energy and the Human Journey: Where We Have Been; Where We Can Go

[Wade Frazier]

Hi:

I am taking a little Yull break, as I write about recovering from yesterday’s burglary. A couple of weeks ago, one of my wife’s business associates had his home burglarized, and just Thursday (two days ago), my wife had me perform an anti-burglary precaution at home. The next day, she failed to enact that precaution and I almost thought it was a joke when she called me later that day to report that our home had been burglarized. Like too many other Twilight Zone moments in my life, I knew that my “friends” were busy again, making my life “interesting.” Being “chosen” as I and my fellow travelers have been has been a very mixed blessing, let me tell you.

So, I took it all in stride, and while I am sure there will be burglary-related hassle in the coming weeks, I view the burglary as just one of many events like it in my life. Nothing in this realm can compare to being burglarized by the police, as they did in 1988, as a prelude to ruining my life and the lives of many others, on Godzilla’s behalf. Being burglarized by some drug addicts looking for a fix is relatively trifling, and was once more orchestrated by my “friends,” for reasons that they never reveal.

I have written how stricken Mr. Researcher looked after the cops ransacked his office. I looked stricken in those days, too, with people later telling me that I looked like a raccoon, with dark circles around me eyes. 1988 was easily the worst year of my life, and it all began with that cloud of dust in our parking lot as the goon squad arrived, led by dark path acolyte Mr. Deputy, earning his keep. So, having our home broken into, and several-thousand-dollars-worth of possessions stolen, is a minor event in my life, relegated to the past the next day. I am not sure if that is a good thing.

Time for bed.

Best,

Wade

[Wade Frazier]

Hi:

That Philly show was the biggest FE gathering in world history, with 5,000 people attending. But I discovered that big gatherings really don’t mean much. As Martin Luther King, Jr. once said, he would rather march with one person who knew why they were marching than a hundred who didn’t. I learned that lesson the hard way, carrying Dennis’s and Brian’s spears for several mass movement efforts. Dennis’s shows attracted people who came for the show. I had long since learned the primary lesson of my journey, and Dennis finally admitted it to me when I joined back up with him in 1996. Not enough people care enough, for that approach, for the task at hand. In a world of scarcity and fear, the horizons of awareness of the vast majority of people rarely extend past their immediate self-interest. Between the masses’ easily manipulability by the social managers and the organized suppression, no mass movement to make FE happen has a prayer. Dennis tried to outmaneuver the master shepherd with his own tools. That is never going to happen, IMO, and those kinds of experiences led to my approach today.

That lack of personal integrity extends to inventors, too, and was the last delusion that I finally shed regarding FE efforts. Mr. Inventor began taking the bloom off the rose for me, as far as inventors went, back in 1986. I began my journey with Dennis thinking that inventors were heroes, but I was rudely disabused of my naïveté about many things, and inventors in particular. I never saw an inventor with Dennis who did not betray him, especially when the going got tough. Inventors just seek the highest bidder, and I never met an FE inventor whose primary preoccupation was not becoming rich and famous. When a new FE aspirant announced that he was the Messiah, and soon gathered his flock, I did not know whether to laugh or cry. I had seen that scene before.

Looking back, I was in no shape to join up with Dennis in 1996 (or Brian in 2003), but I spent the month of October 1996 writing my first site (boy, did I have a long way to go as a writer), and then went to work for Dennis in November. I had stopped taking Prozac that previous summer, after I stepped down, but still drank heavily, and really needed a year to decompress, not leap straight into Dennis’s hurricane again.

In October 1996, while I was writing, we took Yull to the White House to meet with Al Gore, AKA Mr. Environment. A member of Dennis’s “patriotic” network became Yull’s manservant and bodyguard, and they lived in hotel rooms across the USA for several months. I later read the letter that Gore wrote to Dennis, as he backed off from any further involvement with Brown’s Gas (BG). Gore did not deny that BG produced transmutation effects, but considered it too dangerous to try (he must have watched Chain Reaction ). Gore is just another politician, but with slightly nobler rhetoric.

Just like Mr. Deputy was in the audience for Dennis’s shows, as he prepared his attack, in the audience for the Philly show was Mr. Skeptic, who began his “skeptical” career the next day. I had been studying the “skeptics” for several years by that time, but I gave Mr. Skeptic the benefit of the doubt, until his behavior removed all doubt. Today, I consider organized skepticism to be a criminal enterprise.

When I went back with Dennis in 1996, for my first two weeks, until I could put my household into storage, I stayed in a hotel room in a ski resort near our office. Dennis had bought that room for Yull, but Yull never came to stay and instead flitted around the USA, with his manservant in tow. Many years later, that manservant betrayed Dennis in a big way, which was typical.

During my first weeks with Dennis, I began learning the lay of the land. It was all familiar territory, and soon after I got there, my bookkeeper handed me a letter from our phone company, notifying us that the Justice Department had subpoenaed our phone records and gagged the phone company from notifying us. In these neo-Orwellian, post 9/11 days, I think it would be a crime if our phone company ever notified us.

It was also in those days that we were being set up by a very sophisticated sting operation, courtesy of Godzilla, as he raised the game to new levels. Those American Indian tribes and those Christian businessmen with the trillion-dollar trust were all part of an elaborate attempt to snare us.

As I have written plenty, I saw nearly all the money that went through Dennis’s hands over a 20 year period, being his accountant. I signed an affidavit to Seattle’s financial statements, testified in a highly hostile environment to the revenues in Ventura, but that did not stop people from making up big lies about how much Dennis “bilked” his followers out of. The most famous xxxx (other than Mr. Skeptic) was an FE scientist who attacked Dennis and led off with the “fact” that Dennis raised $100 million from his “victims,” when the real number was more like $5-10 million, depending on how one made the calculation. In the sense that that lying scientist wrote about it, it was more like $5 million. And where did that money go? Straight into Dennis’s operation. Dennis never enjoyed any of it, unless you count clothing and furniture bought at thrift stores, buying cars at police auctions, and going to a dentist to have his teeth yanked out, as Dennis could never afford proper dental care, etc. Just like Hitler did, Dennis’s assailants all took the approach of the bigger the lie, the better.

Anybody familiar with my work knows that I deal in facts, either from primary documents, high-quality scholarship, my direct personal experiences, or those of my close circle, which is not large. I don’t deal in rumor and speculation.

As I got into the saddle with Dennis again, going through his books, which I helped set up earlier in the year, I saw where the money came and went. Dennis had put all of his eggs in Yull’s basket. Not only did they buy $1 million worth of BG machines from China, they paid Yull a $250,000 commission for them. That was one hell of a commission. Dennis was about to make a second order, and Yull upped his commission to something like 35%, and Dennis’s wife said that Yull was getting greedy. Yull began showing his true colors then, and it would be nice to say that I was surprised, but I had long since stopped being surprised by inventors and their greed and dishonesty.

Meanwhile, Yull was living in hotel rooms across the USA, nice ones, and Dennis picked up the tab and paid for the manservant.

There is a tape of the Philly show. I don’t know if anybody put it on the Internet or not, but if you ever watch it, there is a moment when Dennis finally introduces the man of the year, Yull, and the crowd of 5,000, with the seats filled clear into the rafters (I admit that it was an impressive sight), gave him a standing ovation. If you ever watch that footage, I am the bearded man in the front row wearing a white shirt with red stripes, standing with the rest of them, applauding.

As Yull lived in hotel rooms across the USA, he incessantly played that scene on their TVs. His manservant told me that it was amusing to watch Yull continually playing that scene of his standing ovation.

Several years later, I heard that Yull’s supporters told Yull that Dennis had no money, that Dennis would screw Yull, and they did everything that they could to dissuade Yull from working with Dennis. That $250,000 commission to Yull was wired to a bank account in China. It seems that Yull never told his Southern California followers about the vast sums that Dennis was paying him. I’ll get to how I discovered that later.

When I put up my site in 1996, it was the innocent days of the Internet, and I had my email address on my site and took on all comers for several years. I was easily reached, and that winter of 1996-1997, I interacted with a wide spectrum of people involved in the milieu. I interacted with Yull’s Southern California followers. Not only were they in the dark about what Yull was really making with Dennis, but they were extremely naïve. There was an Asian man in particular that I remember, and not only was he highly naïve, but he accused Yull and Dennis of lying about why they did not do the transmutation demonstration at the Philly show.

That Southern California crew was way off base, but one thing they were right about: Yull would never sign any contracts to get Brown’s Gas developed in the USA. We discovered that the hard way, but I think that it was really a blessing in disguise. When I meet Yull on the other side after I pass, I am going to thank him for blowing apart all of the deals that Dennis tried to put together, as if we had, I would have likely ended up in prison. We were being set up by a highly sophisticated operation, almost certainly at least sponsored by Godzilla. Yull kept crazily blowing the deals up by making insane demands. There is much more on Yull coming, but it is time to begin my busy day.

Best,

Wade

Edited February 16, 2016 by Wade Frazier

[Wade Frazier]

Hi:

Here is a short Yull post, before I begin a long week at work. I have written it before, that I began my journey thinking that inventors were heroes, as I was misled by my first professional mentor. I walked into Dennis’s company with that delusion firmly placed, but when the dust settled four years later, I had strong doubts that the inventor/businessman’s route to FE, or anything outside the orthodox energy box, had a prayer.

When Dennis admitted to me, within days of my joining up again in 1996, that his idea when I became his partner - that people really cared, but had nothing worth caring about - was wrong, and that he was now sifting through humanity’s mine tailings, looking for nuggets, I wondered what he thought he would accomplish. His network was comprised of “patriots,” "Christians," and various fringe flavors, with conspiracists well-represented, including those with Dennis’s redneck roots, but almost none of what I saw seemed inspired by integrity, but a desire to be free of taxation, government, get into heaven by knowing God’s password, get rich, and the like. I saw little more than self-serving motivation, and it was not inspiring. The staff was mostly employees working for a paycheck. While there were some good people amongst the volunteers that formed the core, it did not seem like nearly enough, and Dennis also experienced his fair share of betrayal from that gang, too. It was like Dennis was on Diogenes’s quest for the honest man, almost always coming up empty.

I was already not in good shape to be joining up with Dennis. My wife lived on the West Coast, in the Bay Area, while I worked on the East Coast, and that alone made my days with Dennis in 1996-1997 seem like a bad dream. But to witness the motley crew that Dennis had assembled, the parade of money-hungry inventors coming through, the sharks circling in several schools, looking for their opportunities to tear off pieces of flesh, left me not very optimistic about our prospects.

In that light, I cannot be too hard on Yull for being the standard greedy inventor who endlessly watched the video of his standing ovation until he died. He was like the rest of them, and what he ended up doing was no great surprise to me, and that will come in future posts.

Here is an anecdote from my first weeks back with Dennis. Dennis showed me a set of schematics for a Brown’s Gas (BG) machine made by a man in Canada. The man had simply copied Brown’s work, but in a way that evaded the patent laws. As I have written, Brown was not exactly the original inventor of BG himself. Dennis said that that Canadian simply copied what others did, to take the wind out of their commercial sails. Dennis suspected that the man was one of Godzilla’s minions. I did not know why he thought that until a few years later, when I read a book that featured FE inventors, and that man was featured with his copying of Dennis’s initial FE concept of marrying heat pumps with heat engines! It was blatant, and then I understood why Dennis thought like he did. I eventually talked with the author of that book that featured that Canadian pirate, and the author’s thinking was that the man was simply unscrupulous, not one of Godzilla’s minions. If so, that is typical in the milieu. That Canadian pirate is one of the prominent BG talking heads today.

I cordially interacted with Mr. Skeptic in that winter of 1996-1997, and he eventually took off his affable skeptic mask and began a psychopathic lying spree that lasted for more than a decade, heaving his slime at anybody within reach. He got me several times, and was one of my Internet stalkers.

We were surrounded on all sides by the dishonorable and the unscrupulous, our organization was riddled with them, and we were in the midst of being set up in an elaborate sting operation, which Godzilla almost certainly had a claw in.

What were our chances?

Best,

Wade

Edited February 16, 2016 by Wade Frazier

[Wade Frazier]

Hi:

As Yull flitted around the USA, living off of Dennis’s largesse, Dennis was trying to make things happen. I am not sure when he got involved with that so-called Christian trust, but those American Indian tribes approached him soon after I came aboard, and I wonder if my American Indian writings had anything to do with it. More than a decade later, I realized that they were part of a big sting operation against us. If Yull had not kept blowing the deals apart that Dennis tried to put together, I might have gone to prison. I had to renew my passport for preparation in closing deals abroad, and I now realize that if I had gone, I might have never come back.

With operations such as those, not everybody is on it, and I’ll never know who was in on it and who was blindly doing their jobs, without an inkling of the true nature of those operations. The tribes had a woman who was making the bank trades, or trying to, and she was “mentored” by a man who told Dennis that he was the sixth most powerful man on Earth, and Dennis once met him in his penthouse suite in Manhattan with his entourage. It was a sophisticated operation.

Here is an example of Yull’s paranoia and general craziness. Dennis and Yull met with that Indian woman, and regarding some money issue and what she could deliver, she told them that she could “tell you” in three days. Some days or weeks later, Dennis mentioned that woman to Yull, and Yull replied, “What an evil woman! She said that she could kill me in three days!” Dennis laughed about that incident, but it showed where his relationship with Yull was heading.

Dennis had not only put all of his eggs in Yull’s basket, his big play was using the transmutational properties of Brown’s Gas (BG) to make a play with the federal government. In those days, the Department of Energy (DOE) was holding hearings on its proposed nuclear waste facility in New Mexico, for the low-grade waste. The DOE’s solution was burying it in the ground. The DOE staged a series of public hearings to discuss the matter. I began getting educated on BG for meeting Yull, and I studied more for those hearings, as Dennis and I spoke at them in February 1997, near the Savannah River Site. That is the last road trip that Dennis and I did together.

Dennis is crippled from his paralysis and the VA’s negligence, and avoids walking when he can, so I pushed him through the airports in a wheelchair, and our final airport was at Augusta, Georgia, which is a tiny airport that is overwhelmed each year for The Masters.

What a company town that we spoke in, next to the Savannah facility. The street next to the building where the hearings were held was named something like “Atomic Boulevard.” There was one hearing in the morning, and one in the afternoon. At the hearings, I spoke first, and Dennis spoke second. I was the facts-and-figures guy, while Dennis was the salesman. The hearings were sparsely attended, with maybe 40 people watching, and I specifically remember a young kid, in his 20s, wearing a suit, who obviously worked for the nuclear waste contractors. He seemed puzzled and hostile toward our presentation. Outside the meeting hall was a truck from a waste contractor, which had one of those “cutaway” payloads, as the nuclear waste truck had been made into an educational exhibit so that people could see the insides and see how the waste was handed in the truck.

I spoke to open the hearings, and had a little stage fright, in what seemed a hostile environment for our message. But the man who ran the hearings was friendly. After the morning hearings, it was time for a lunch break, and Dennis and I headed out to the car to find a restaurant. Guess who followed us out to the car? The man who ran the hearings! I was driving, and the man came up to Dennis’s window, leaned in, and gave Dennis his business card. Then he said something that I will never forget.

He said that we were the third group that had proposed neutralization solutions at those traveling hearings, and then he said,


“There are people who stand to make a lot of money in managing nuclear waste. If your solution does not make them money, it will not go anywhere."


Then he said that he was an underling with little power, and he would see what he could do at the DOE. And a month later, we did get a call from the DOE, but it was some low-level kid who was checking the box. However, I later heard that our proposal made the newspapers on the West Coast, and it was an election year, so I heard that the Clinton administration was toying with our proposal, probably as an election year ploy, but we had already heard from Gore and Clinton, so I did not take that very seriously.

I am not sure if I have publicly disclosed it before, but at the time, I was closely related to a member of Clinton’s cabinet, and might have been tempted to try that route, but the person was a well-known political operative whom I would not have trusted as far as I could throw an elephant. I have never visited Washington, D.C., and hope that I never do. Approaching the DOE was Dennis’s trip (and later Brian’s), not mine, but hearing that DOE official make that statement was worth the trip. Nuclear waste management is just another racket.

That was far from Dennis’s only encounter with DOE officials, and they generally were like that man who ran the hearings, in that they wanted to be helpful, but also recognized the vast, corrupt machine that they were part of. I wonder how many became zombies, like those who fill the halls at Langley.

Time for work.

Best,

Wade

Edited February 17, 2016 by Wade Frazier

[Wade Frazier]

Hi:

While Dennis and I were speaking at DOE hearings, Yull was roaming hotel rooms across the USA, on Dennis’s nickel, with his manservant in tow. It came to a head with Yull a few weeks after those hearings. Dennis recorded all of his phone calls, and informed everybody that he talked to that he did. I rarely listened to any of them, but he had me listen to a call that he had with Yull.

Again, Dennis is scientifically illiterate and often leaps before he looks, and accepts guidance from that voice in his head. I can’t really blame him, but it can make for odd decisions, and Dennis definitely had his trials with inventors. As I wrote, some have made wide-ranging claims for Brown’s Gas (BG), overstating its practical potential, IMO, and one of those areas was with welding. BG is not the ideal welder for all welding applications, and good old oxyacetylene is superior in many situations. While Dennis’s big play with BG was going to be the nuclear waste application, he got caught up in the welder hype, and that $1 million of BG machines from China were bought with welding in mind, including exotic types of welding, such as underwater.

The BG machines did not quite work as advertised, and being made in China more than twenty years ago, their quality fell short of machines manufactured in the West. We sent one of our volunteers to China, and that Chinese city sent out some techs to Dennis’s New Jersey facility to repair our BG machines. The call with Yull lasted 45 minutes or so, and it was the Yull Show. Dennis asked Yull why the BG machines were not working so well for welding, and other problems, and Yull went off into long technical explanations. Dennis did not say more than a few sentences on that phone call, just asking a few questions. Yull talked and talked, but really did not answer why the machines did not seem to be very good for standard welding applications, or the other problems they had.

And the call’s end, Yull took off his mask for Dennis, and said something like, “What are you complaining about? You made plenty of money off of me!” It was a like a con man revealing his ploy to his victims, as he pulled off the sting. Dennis then sent Yull a message, saying that he wanted Yull to state, in writing, what kind of deal that he was willing to have Dennis put together. It was about the last exchange that Dennis had with Yull. Yull had his manservant write out the contract that Yull dictated. It was thoroughly insane. Yull demanded $5 million up front, as a mere downpayment on sums that were mind-boggling, without him having to deliver anything. That was in late February or early March of 1997. Yull had the best, most loyal ally that he could have wished for, and instead, he pissed on him.

Publicly, Dennis put the best face on it, but privately, he was done with Yull. I left Dennis’s organization soon afterward, so do not know all the details after that, but I doubt that Dennis had any involvement with Yull after that. I think that Yull returned to China, and then went to Australia. He shipped a container of his equipment to Australia, and it was held up at customs because it was radioactive. Yull died in Australia in May of 1998, officially of diabetes, but he smoked like a chimney, drank radioactive water, and survived a dozen years in Soviet gulags and Turkish prisons. The thinking in Dennis’s camp was that Yull developed a kind of paranoiac insanity in his last years. I have seen what paranoia does to people. It is not pretty, and I have borne the brunt of it more than once, as the paranoid lash out at everything near them, even their greatest friends and allies.

Dennis put all of his eggs in Yull’s basket, and Yull set it on fire. That really is the story of Dennis’s life with inventors, and Dennis was not just finding the bad actors; it was just another illustration of my journey’s primary lesson: personal integrity is the world’s scarcest commodity. Yull was just one of a parade of inventors I watched cycle through Dennis’s organizations, and all the ones I saw eventually betrayed Dennis, and all of them wanted to get rich and famous, above all. Free energy inventors announcing that they are the Messiah or Second Coming are normal in the field, where realities beyond the dreams of avarice beckon. Quite frankly, having a hand in manifesting the human journey’s greatest event challenges anybody’s ego, and since inventors are primarily self-serving in their motivation, they quickly lose their bearings as their egos go into overdrive, and megalomania is a distinct risk. It can be quite a sordid spectacle.

I began my journey with the delusion that the extra helping of creativity that inventors possessed included an extra helping of integrity. Maybe it does, but it is not much. I have long thought about my delusion and why it took so long to shed it. It is probably because I am an Artisan soul, and creativity is the positive pole of an artisan’s expression, and can only be reached via love. But in a world of scarcity and fear, almost nobody ever acts from their positive pole for long, if at all. Mr. Inventor was my first indicator that I had been misled by Mr. Mentor, and by the time the dust settled in Ventura in 1990, I strongly suspected that the inventor/businessman’s approach to exotic technology, up to and including free energy, was not going to work. By the end of my days with Dennis in 1996-1997, I was certain of it, and have not really been interested in what Dennis has done since then, but the inventor/businessman’s route is all he knows, so he doggedly kept at it. I have one more vignette to tell about my days with Dennis, as he brought his final inventor into his stable before his 1996-1997 effort collapsed, who had been there before, Victor Fischer.

I am not quite through with writing about Yull, as there are pertinent aspects of his story that I have yet to tell, even after he died. His manservant later told me that he kind of missed Yull, even with all of his craziness and greed. Yull was just a typical inventor, even if he was not quite the original inventor of BG, but he is still a political football, all these years later.

Time for work.

Best,

Wade

[Wade Frazier]

Hi:

I see that I already wrote a little vignette on Victor Fischer, so I don’t need to belabor the issue, but will tell a few new details. When Mr. Texas made his play, Dennis was in jail and I was in Washington, trying to recover from the events of the first half of 1988. While Mr. Engineer and Mr. Researcher immediately signed up with Mr. Texas, naively and dishonorably, Fischer had already seen that movie and was not deceived by Mr. Texas’s Mr. Rogers act.

Fischer had stirred up trouble in Ventura before Dennis was arrested, so I knew that he was no saint, but I gave him worldliness and intelligence points, not integrity points, when he did not sign up with Mr. Texas. He disappeared when Dennis was arrested, when he could have helped, and Mr. Professor never forgave Fischer for his act of abandonment. Within days of Yull’s blowing up his relationship with Dennis, Dennis tracked down Fischer, who happened to be living nearby in New Jersey. Dennis acted like some long-lost friend came back into his life, but Mr. Professor and I were decidedly unimpressed. I think that Dennis was desperate, after the Yull fiasco, and thought that he could resurrect his FE effort with Fischer. It seemed like Dennis thought that Fischer not signing up with Mr. Texas gave him “good guy” points, but it only gave him smart and worldliness points, in my book. He saw where Mr. Texas’s play was going to end up, when so few others could, blinded by their greed, fear, and Mr. Texas’s Mr. Rogers act.

With my nerdish ways, I am not big on reading body language and other non-verbal cues, but my memory is nearly photographic and I don’t miss a whole lot. The day that I met Fischer, I handed him a check for $1,000, as Dennis’s initiation of the relationship. The day that Dennis got back together with Fischer, nine years later, I also handed Fischer his “hello” check. Those weren’t the only times that I handed him checks, either, and noticing how people react to being handed money comes with the territory of being a controller, and it can be interesting. Fischer had an unusual gesture in receiving money, with his hand shooting out, palm up, like a reflex. Again, I am not big into reading body language, but I noticed his same eager gesture when I handed him money nine years apart, and I think that I saw into his soul a little. Fischer was all about the money, and rode on a gravy train with Dennis for a few years, before he abandoned Dennis and left him high and dry. Dennis was surprised and hurt, but I don’t know why Dennis could not see that one coming from a thousand miles away. I suppose that that is another reason why I am not with Dennis.

Mr. Mentor is one hell of a lot smarter than me, and a world-class inventive talent, and if he thought that hydraulic heat engines married to Dennis’s heat pump panels could make free energy, who am I to say he is wrong, even if the thermodynamic textbooks say differently? My jury is still out on whether it would work or not, but we were building a prototype of Mr. Mentor’s engine before we switched gears and began building Fischer’s hydraulic heat engine, when we were raided. Hydraulic heat engines and super heat pumps are big news, even if they could not do free energy, but as I have written, I believe that the greatest threat that we posed to the Global Controllers was that I had brought the talent and resources together so that Dennis could mount an effort at building a network that could distribute disruptive energy technology, the heat pump not least of them. Sparky Sweet lived just down the road and was avidly watching our efforts, and there were plenty more like him out there. I believe that the primary threat that we posed was Dennis’s getting together with people like Sparky and Mr. Mentor, and achieving something that made Seattle look like a mere prelude. That fear was behind the CIA’s billion dollar offer to make Dennis go away, before we got the boom lowered on us.

One day, I may be able to publicly tell more of the story, but let’s just say that Dennis has had the Global Controllers’ full attention several times, and because of my role in those events and the fact that I stay in the public eye and have not given up, I have their attention, too. The Eye of Sauron is farseeing, and there is no use in trying to hide from it. Only fools think that they can sneak past it. I think that I am relatively low on the radar, however, and plan to stay that way until I get a choir built.

When Fischer left Dennis high and dry (after failing to get a prototype to run how he said he could), in about the year 2000, I was long past being interested in the inventor/businessman’s approach to free energy. The only prayer that such an approach has, IMO, is an inventor with the goods to give it to a worthy group, who can develop it and then give it to the world. I have never met or heard of the inventor with the goods willing to give it away, and that worthy group does not yet exist, and my “choir” efforts can be seen as trying to help form it.

I am not done writing about Yull, either. When Yull screwed and abandoned Dennis, I heard the catcalls coming from the fringe crowd, and that Canadian pirate, who never gave Yull a dime, berated Dennis for letting Yull die “penniless.” Nothing could be further from the truth, but the truth does not matter in those circles, as I had been discovering.

Dennis has never stopped trying, and after Fischer left Dennis high and dry, Dennis did another barnstorming tour in the spring of 2001. He had some FE technology that he was promoting, and I discovered years later that his rotating magnet prototype likely was tapping the ZPF, when it approached 2,000 RPM, but a proof of concept prototype is a far cry from powering a home. Dennis had to route his equipment around Washington State, as the authorities there still hounded him. One reason why I turn down all offers to speak publicly in my home state is that Ms. Pinch Hitter still works for the Attorney General’s office, and people are still recovering, thirty years later, from having their lives ruined by the electric company gangsters. I don’t want to stir up any of that mess, not where I live.

I attended Dennis’s 2001 show in Washington, and an obnoxious camera crew got right in Dennis’s face and would not leave, and Dennis eventually had a wrestling match with the cameraman. It was very painful to witness. Dennis later called it his “anger and bitterness” tour, as he let the slings and arrows get to him. He is very human, but that was the last time that he let himself get down like that and react to the slings and arrows.

A few months later, Brian and I began our close collaboration. When I told him about the underground exotic technology show that a close colleague/friend was treated to, Brian almost yawned, as it was old news in his circles.

Right around that time, a free energy scientist wrote an article that dishonestly attacked Dennis. What that scientist did is called criminal libel in the USA, and at the time, Mr. Skeptic was getting on national TV shows that smeared Dennis, as he lied out of both sides of his mouth. Mr. Skeptic campaigned against Dennis until he was finally run out of the USA, and then he quietly folded his tents, which lends to the suspicion that like Bill the BPA Hit Man and several others, Mr. Skeptic was being paid to harry Dennis. What was amazing to me about Mr. Texas, Bill the BPA Hit Man, Mr. Deputy, Mr. Skeptic, that libeling scientist, and others like them was not that the Big Lies about Dennis that they constantly told, but how easily they duped people with their lies. They all had the Mr. Rogers/Boy Scout/affable skeptic act down pat, and it easily duped people, along the lines of Hitler’s Big Lie strategy.

Almost nobody ever exercises any discernment, even people supposedly far smarter and worldlier than me, and I finally realized that such seeming blindness was just another variation of my journey’s primary lesson. People are easily duped because they are inherently self-serving, with the horizons of their awareness rarely extending past their immediate self-interest, and the carrots and sticks easily work on them. That is why for the herd’s size, the Global Controllers’ task is surprisingly easy: the masses do almost all of his work for him. If I had not witnessed it many times, I would not have believed it.

I will have much more to write on those subjects, in coming posts, and reveal some new information.

Time for work.

Best,

Wade

[Wade Frazier]

Hi:

I decided to take this series of posts to my current approach, and try to keep to the theme of “free energy, psychic abilities, and the skeptics and debunkers.” The psychic ability aspect is tightly woven into my journey, from my mystical and cultural awakenings happening the same year as my energy dreams began, to my existential crisis launching me on my career and that voice in my head leading me to Dennis. Mr Mentor’s inventions came via insight that was a close cousin, if not identical to, mystical insight. All of my FE fellow travelers that I respected the most also had mystical awakenings that were at least partly responsible for their FE pursuit, even with FE inventions coming from it. My relationship with Brian was a key thread in my journey, as our paths kept crossing, like ships in the night, before we partnered up, and still kept crossing and diverging and crossing until he died. Our meeting at the state capitol propelled us into our most intense years, which saw Brian flee the USA in fear of his life.

The skeptics and debunkers also dogged us all the way. I had my own Internet “debunker” stalker, and when Brian spoke publicly, a debunker/assailant often arrived to hassle/heckle Brian. Once, during our interactions, Brian was reeling from hate mail that he received, which came with having his email address publically available. What Brian and I endured was trivial compared to what Dennis survived. That some of Dennis’s most criminal assailants came from within the FE field, from provocateurs to “skeptics” that inveigled themselves into the FE field, to libelous writers who get lionized to this day, to Dennis’s allies who endlessly betrayed him, is one of the greatest ironies that I know of. Humanity is its own worst enemy, and the Global Controllers easily manage the human herd as we stampede toward the cliff.

From the autumn of 1999, when the first stirrings of my monster of a midlife crisis began, through the winter of 2000-2001, I consulted full-time. In the winter/spring of 2001, I resumed working on my site, while consulting only about 15 hours a week, and that pattern held until I finished my site in September 2002. In early 2000, I hired my editor and got the education of my writing career from her red pen.

In August of 2001, when I helped Ralph McGehee with his FBI hassles and met Brian in Sacramento, I might have been hoping that my midlife crisis was waning, but the next month taught me my folly, when I saw those WTC towers burning. The viciousness and insanity that I received from the American public in the wake of 9/11 got so bad that I eventually removed my email address from my site. The final blow, however, was when a childhood friend not only decided to attack me, but he also tried to damage my already fragile relationship with my mother after I discovered his crime, in a tactic called, “the best defense is a good offense.” He called me a decade earlier, to tell me that my mother had just left his home during her “my son the criminal” scrapbook tour. I don’t know how many stops she made, but I’m sure that it was not the only one. His parents, who also received the show, were some of my investors. I was teenage best friends with his older brother.

My “friend” committed a bone fide crime in his ardor to hurt me, the kind that merited at least a restraining order and could have led to prosecution, and I have held the evidence over his head ever since to keep him quiet. In his egocentric insanity, he cannot fathom his peril, as people like Bill the BPA Hit Man would manipulate him like putty to attack me, which could wreck his life and the lives of those around him. He is just one of many examples that I could make of people on the far periphery of the free energy issue turning into Orcs lusting after The One Ring. Near the heart of the issue, few can stand the heat for more than minutes.

Our relationship ended after the 50^th conversation or so in which he tried to challenge my radicalized worldview by justifying violence, and attacked me for more than the next decade, but always in cowardly fashion, as he did it anonymously, but was not smart enough to cover his tracks. Those closest to you know where to hit you where it hurts the most.

That is one of many events in my store of experiences behind my warnings to free energy newcomers who want to proselytize to their social circles. They risk ostracism and more when they do that.

In 2001, that free energy scientist libeled Dennis, and I just chalked it up to one more criminal assailant, but that essay continues to haunt me, as people hand it and send it to me as an example of fine writing on the subject ( ! ). In May 2002, a couple of months after removing my email address from my site, Mr. Professor died, which sent me into the dark phase of my midlife crisis, which did not crest until Dennis invited me to the White House.

Those were eventful years, and I’ll write about them like I haven’t before.

Time for work.

Best,

Wade

Edited February 19, 2016 by Wade Frazier

[Wade Frazier]

Hi:

I am going to be more revealing about some events. I will reveal very few names, as they are not that important. The purpose of these posts is to illustrate what I learned, not to tell some salacious gossip or a tale of woe. Not many have walked these paths, and fewer still survived, stayed sane, and wrote about their adventures. As some have noted periodically, I am also writing for an audience far beyond today’s readers. If FE makes it past humanity’s inertia and the organized suppression, historians are going to be mining this stuff. But my immediate goal is building the choir, and only an intelligent, informed, and honest discussion is going to attract the people that I seek.

Another reason for not naming names is that I will be writing about some unscrupulous people, whom I have already seen in action. They have no qualms about going on the offensive against me, using the “the best defense is a good offense” strategy, hurling their lies at me (and worse, far worse) if I exposed their crimes and put their names on them. I don’t need any more of that in my life. For those for whom knowing the names is important, almost all of them are easily discovered, usually by surfing the Internet for a few minutes.

Some names take a little gumption to discover, such as Bill the BPA Hit Man’s. Neither Dennis nor I reveal his last name in our public writings, mainly to protect the public. Bill is already responsible for one woman’s death, and is a hit man today for the medical racket. To find his name, people would have to do some archival digging, such as into the phony bankruptcy suit that he filed more than 30 years ago. Then people can surf the Internet and see how he created phony alternative energy credentials, the trail of tears that he has left in his wake, and the like. It can be a valuable educational process to study dark pather lives like that, to better understand how the rackets operate, using outright psychopaths like Bill to help keep threats such as Dennis at bay. But the idly curious, naïve, and gullible contacting Bill would put themselves in jeopardy in ways that they can barely fathom.

That is related to my recent post about my “friend” who committed a crime in his fervor to hurt me. He is operating from deep ego dysfunction, and would be an expendable pawn in the hands of somebody like Bill, wrecking lives around him as he wrecked his own, and he would not begin to understand how he was used until it was too late. I have watched that movie too many times already, and even starred in them. None of my warnings are theoretical.

The month after helping Ralph and hanging out with Brian, 9/11 happened, and that event initiated a series of them that sent me into the dark phase of my midlife crisis, and by the time that Bush pulled off his Nuremburg-style Mission Accomplished stunt, I was an emotional wreck. I clearly recall the emotional agony of the drumbeat to invasion and through the invasion, which may be seen one day as the first salvos of World War III. The 9/11 events might be seen as analogous to the Archduke’s Assassination, inside job or not, and the invasions of Iraq and Afghanistan might be analogous to Hitler’s early invasions. When I read articles and essays on the tenth anniversary of Iraq’s invasion, I am not sure that I saw even one Western pundit mention oil as a prominent motivation. As Uncle Noam has said, it takes hard work to stay that ignorant. Middle East oil is history’s richest material prize.

Responding to an understandable ultimatum from my wife, I finished my site in September 2002, during the nadir of the dot.bomb’s aftermath. I was unemployed for nearly a year before I resumed my career by working for an Internet company, and spent ten years there. So, I had a front-row seat for the drumbeat for the invasion of Iraq.

I also read Bucky Fuller’s work a couple of months before the invasion, and the paradigm that I had been groping toward for most of my life finally crystallized, and in hindsight, all the study that I did since then was directed at writing my big essay. It was an “unconscious” process for several years, and it was not until 2007, as I emerged from my midlife crisis (and began to burn out from my job’s pace – high-tech years are dog years) that I began studying with my big essay in mind, but I did not suspect that it would turn into a several hundred page essay. I did not begin understanding how large it would become until I was several chapters into writing it, and then I decided that it would be as long as it needed to be. I’ll be revising it this spring, as I may do annually for some time, like college textbook updates, but I expect that activity to eventually slow down. I am very happy with how the essay stands today, but science is always on the move, and I have important information to add, mostly from Nick Lane’s and Peter Ward’s recent books.

Literally days after Bush’s Mission Accomplished stunt, Brian contacted me and asked me to help him found the New Energy Movement, and we had our first meeting in June 2003, and the next month I resumed my career. I soon had my life’s healthiest cash flow and funded NEM for its first year, spending about $17,000 in all. NEM’s president today, Joel, is a good man and is one of those over-grown Boy Scouts. Like the rest of us, he learned many lessons the hard way, as he pursued planetary healing. He reminded me of how I might have turned out if I had not met Dennis: well-meaning, but not yet battle-tested, and yet to witness the carnage and get sobered up. Joel has learned plenty during his NEM adventures, even if he did not play at Brian’s and Dennis’s levels. There are many levels of the game and avenues of learning. Again, I don’t recommend the trial-by-fire path that Dennis, Brian, and I took. Not many pupils survive that curriculum.

Looking back, like when I went back with Dennis in 1996-1997, I really should not have been at NEM. I was an emotional wreck once again, and at that first NEM board meeting, I quickly realized that that was not the crowd that I needed to be in, and I did not see us getting much done of importance. It is one thing to play Indiana Jones’s sidekick, and that was too rough a ride for me, but the NEM people had not really been battle-tested, and it was evident in the first board meeting, and it got worse for me at future meetings.

At Christmas 2013, we had a board meeting at Brian’s home (he moved to less than an hour away from my wife’s parents, in the Sierra Nevada foothills, after our 2001 meeting), and that is where I heard Mark tell his story for the first time, after hearing some of Brian’s descriptions of it. Joel had a hard time believing that my adventures really happened like I said they did, and my radicalizing moment on the witness stand was so far outside of his universe of the possible that he could not initially believe it.

Other than my years with Dennis, my entire career has been spent in corporate America, and I hide out. I don’t walk through the halls, performing free energy proselytizing. I know better, but Joel had to find out the hard way. He was a chemist/salesman for a timber products company in the Pacific Northwest, and had been there for 20 years when I met him. He joined NEM at the same age at as my midlife crisis began, around 42 years old, and I wonder if that helped spur Joel. I warned him to not give up his day job for NEM, but he walked the halls at his office, doing free energy proselytizing with a salesman’s fervor, and they fired him for it. Career over. He has been scrambling ever since, and it was painful to witness.

I am regularly approached by people who are cogs on the corporate machine, and almost without exception, they are highly naïve to how the world really works. People aren’t going to find out in their cubicles and corner offices, but I have many times witnessed corporate types “wake up” from their daily Starbucks and Blue Pill routine, and they then dove into the fringes, usually by embracing New Age/conspiracist fare, or some fringe “science” and scholarship that does not pass muster, and is often on the tabloid fringe. In these Internet days, it has really gotten bad. Anybody can publish anything.

There is a mountain of chaff for every kernel of wheat on the fringes, and if you pick up Brian’s Miracle in the Void, you can see how Brian got waist-deep in the chaff himself. In the photo spread in Miracle, the first picture is of Sparky Sweet, who was the real deal. It is followed by several free energy big names, but one is of Tom Bearden, who most in the field really wonder about. Tom has some cred with me, with the emphasis on some. He far from the first person whom I would ask to explain free energy physics. Brian then published a couple of pictures of Yull, and I already covered Yull. While Brown’s Gas is indeed strange stuff, Yull did not have the right stuff. Brian had a picture of Sai Baba, and I have my doubts about his mystical credentials. The picture following Sai Baba’s was the Face at Cydonia, which Brian eventually realized was not artificial, and that the hype was overblown. About half of Miracle’s pictures were of the avant-garde art of his girlfriend’s, who I heard became his wife, although I am not sure that it was a legally recognized marriage. In an earlier fringe book, Brian published a picture of him climbing the Great Pyramid at Giza. To me, the whole “lost civilization” and “mystical” significance of elite monumental architecture is one of the biggest piles of chaff out there. IMO, all of those ancient monuments were a form of elite “display,” especially the necropolis at Giza. The secrets of free energy or “Atlantis” are not going to be deciphered by studying ancient monuments to the elite. They are just rocks, which outlasted the civilization that built them, as they ran out of energy. Whatever subtle energy effects may have been built into those megaliths is trivial compared to what is in Godzilla’s Golden Hoard.

If Brian could be very hit-and-miss when embracing the fringes, what are the chances of cubicle enthusiasts getting at the truth by surfing the Internet or attending conferences? In my experience, not high, and I watch such enthusiasts disappear down rabbit holes filled with chaff all the time. They simply are not worldly or discerning enough to play that game. This is an endemic problem of the fringes.

Our household has largely recovered from last week’s burglary, but I have been sick for the past week, while I am working a 60-hour week. I am getting too old for this! Thank god for ibuprofen.

I have much more to write on my journey at NEM and afterward, and we’ll see if I write another post this weekend.

Time for work.

Best,

Wade

Edited February 20, 2016 by Wade Frazier

[Wade Frazier]

Hi:

Some odds and ends this morning, before a long day in the office. My 2,000-book library is my most valuable possession (which the burglars were not interested in ), and I use it constantly, rereading parts of books that I have already read, hunting for a quote that I remembered reading once, and the like. One friend that I brought out from Europe a few years ago asked me if I had read all the books in my library, and I replied, “I wish!” So many books, so little time. I cleaned up the stack of books next to my bed a couple of weeks ago, and the pile is already more than a dozen books, including some new ones that I am reading.

Yesterday, I was reading Adam Wasserman’s history of gold book, which I used for my big essay. I have picked it up a few times in recent months. While reading, I decided that I would likely use some more of it. Julius Caesar rose to becoming emperor largely because his invasions secured so much gold from the conquered regions, and he bribed his way to becoming emperor, which ended the Republic once and for all. He obviously did not bribe enough people enough.

Julius Caesar’s diary reads like Columbus’s log, in that his obsession was slaves and gold. Rome’s primary source of gold was the mines in Spain, after wresting them from Carthage. Working the gold-mining slaves to death stretched back to the pharaohs, and what Carthage and Rome did to the natives of the Iberian Peninsula, the Spaniards did to the Western Hemisphere’s natives nearly two millennia later.

While rereading the section on the New World gold rush, I realized how conservative my estimates were. In my original American Empire essay, I estimated 20 million native deaths in the mining, plantation, and similar operations, simply based on my impression after years of study. In my 2014 revision, as I aligned my site with my big essay, I reduced the estimate to at least 10 million, for all of the abuse the natives endured, not only in the mines, but also on the plantations. In Wasserman’s book, he cited a historian from a century ago who estimated 20 million deaths in the mining operations alone. I just updated my American Empire essay to reflect it. That historian, writing a century ago, also estimated nearly 10 million African slaves came across the Atlantic, which is about today’s estimate. The numbers are mind-bogging. Europe’s conquest of humanity inflicted the greatest demographic catastrophes in the human journey, but you can’t find much discussion of it in my great nation, which is one of the greatest beneficiaries of that conquest.

More than a year ago, I wrote that it was looking like it was going to be Hillary versus Jeb in 2016, which was surreal. Well, at least half of that nightmare is not going to happen this year. I am not sure if Hillary versus Trump is going to be any better. Shudder. Speaking of politics, the USA’s invasions and manipulations in Oil Country have raised the risk of nuclear war to its highest level ever. Quite an “achievement” by my great nation. Voices like this are rare in the USA, as they were when the USA invaded Southeast Asia. Empires only commit “mistakes,” never “crimes.” Only the losers ever face war crimes trials.

Time for work.

Best,

Wade

Edited February 22, 2016 by Wade Frazier

[Wade Frazier]

Hi:

I am still crazy-busy, and before I get back to NEM, I want to keep on with the theme that came up a few days ago, and explore why what I am doing is so challenging.

There are several different frameworks to view this through, and they all mean that I am looking for needles in haystacks. Some are:

• Personal integrity is the world’s scarcest commodity;
• Multi-disciplinary thought, a la Bucky, is very rare;
• No previous Epoch has ever been anticipated before; almost nobody could even imagine it before it arrived, and FE will be the biggest one, by far, as humanity becomes a Type 1 civilization;
• There is nothing else on Earth like my body of work, it is a classic Old Artisan undertaking, and only about 10% of humanity today is Old Souls.
  

There are many aspects of those frameworks that can help illustrate them. As I have written plenty, if a person’s heart is not in the right place, the rest does not matter for what I am attempting. If they have not already had an awakening experience, my work will not mean much, if anything, to them, as they will be trapped by their in-group conditioning. Quite often, all that they can see is that I advocate the end of the world as they know it (even when it means paradise), and they react in denial or fear.

As Roads’s mentor said, we must choose love here; otherwise, we will be trapped by our socialization. I have stated it many times, that FE and love are joined at the hip, in both mystical and practical ways. After many years of my FE journey, I came to suspect that the ZPF was divine in nature, and that if we did not approach the issue from an alignment with that divinity, any FE effort will not be successful, or not for long, and Godzilla is just one of many reasons why.

In the end, almost nobody wants to understand my work, and I have seen the many ways that people fail to understand. Hitting that bullseye is not easy, and is like walking the razor’s edge, even for those who want to try. Survivors of adventures like mine can understand more easily, but almost nobody has ever undertaken that path and survived with their sanity intact. I am trying to do something other than asking people to risk their lives, but it is still far more than almost anybody is willing or able to muster, and since impatience is my Achilles heel, this is also a great opportunity for me to work on my failings.

Time for work.

Best,

Wade

Edited February 24, 2016 by Wade Frazier

[Wade Frazier]

Hi:

On to NEM. My wife was glad that I signed up again with Dennis in 1996-1997, and that I carried Brian’s spears at NEM, as I “got it out of my system.” As I have written, I probably should not have signed up, because I was reeling both times. With Dennis in 1996-1997, particularly after Yull’s betrayals and Dennis’s jumping into bed with Fischer again, I was finished with the inventor/businessman’s approach. The bloom began coming off the rose for me with Mr. Inventor, and ten years later, Dennis admitted that almost nobody really cared, which I had already learned the hard way back in the 1980s. I really should not have been there, carrying Dennis’s spears again. Eventually, both of us recognized it, he let me finally come home in the spring of 1997, and I never left and don’t plan to. I have rejected Dennis’s entreaties to get involved with him ever since, and am happy that I did.

I met Brian 12 years before he asked me to help found NEM, and an organization that Brian previously founded booted him out, and he nearly lost his life leading that parade. As I have written, in my first few minutes of the NEM experience, I realized that I was probably in the wrong place. Alden Bryant was the hippest environmentalist that I ever met, a Berkeley activist from the 1940s who was the grandfather of the Rio summit. Alden knew about organized suppression, and during one board meeting he drew attention to an FE inventor in his 70s who had recently been kangarooed into jail in Texas, and he wanted NEM to help bust him out. Once with Dennis was enough for me. But as hip as Alden was, he really had not been through the FE meat grinder, nor had anybody else at NEM except for me. Going through that meat grinder, if you can survive the experience, gives you some unique and necessary perspectives on the issue. Those perspectives were definitely lacking on the NEM board, and I began getting cold feet almost immediately. Alden brought an assistant to the first meeting that Brian kicked out immediately after our first meeting, and another activist that Alden brought in was literally in his 90s and was in full dementia when I saw him at the conference, as he did not even recognize me.

It came to a head for me around the fateful board meeting in May 2004, a year after Brian asked me to help found NEM. The “let’s have a conference” mentality dominated, and I really had had enough of shows and conferences by then, but I put up the money to get the ball rolling. At that meeting, the board members began throwing around names of potential speakers, and two were that Canadian pirate and the scientist who libeled Dennis! That libeling scientist was not only brought up several times by various board members, I had my nose rubbed in it before the meeting was over.

I was nearly 20 years removed from learning my lessons of integrity and how vital it is for anything like NEM. There we were, inviting scoundrels and criminals into our inner circle, and we had not even gotten off the ground yet. Talk about a doomed effort. I am going to tell an anecdote that I doubt that I have publicly revealed before, to give a flavor of what I have had to deal with over the years.

When I first read that libel tract on Dennis back in 2001, I just chalked it up to one more of Dennis’s innumerable assailants who lied to make his case. He did not tell a little white lie in passing, but told big lies that formed the centerpiece of his attack. When Mr. Skeptic stalked and attacked me for several years, he heaved a disinformation bomb, which was about a 15-point collection of half-truths and outright lies, which he hoped would overwhelm any recipient, who would then think that I was a madman, criminal, or one of Dennis’s dupes. That is a “shock and awe” strategy that they lead their attacks with, so that if big, Hitlerian, sensational lies are presented as seeming fact at the very beginning, then the audience can get sucked into the reality framework that the xxxx establishes, and they never really escape, unless they exercise powers of discernment. Few ever do, as they fall under the disinformation specialist’s malevolent spell. I have witnessed that effect many times.

Ignoring that libel tract as just one of many scurrilous attacks was not a strategy that worked for me, as I have been given that tract more than a dozen times over the years. It popped up again a few years ago, as Foster Gamble promoted it and still does, to my knowledge. Many sites have featured my work over the years, and back in the late 1990s and early 2000s, the prominent ones would soon receive a visit from Mr. Skeptic, spewing his lies with his disinformation bomb. Being featured like that also brought other kinds of attention that was not too bad, and I met some of my pals that way, such as how the Avalon experience has been.

Only a month or two before Brian invited me to found NEM, I was invited into another effort, whose founder saw my writings on a site that featured me. That founder thought that my work was the best on the Internet for current events, and invited me into his inner circle. He had recently enjoyed his 15-minutes of fame in the global media with his professional political work, and was trying to build his momentum. He promoted FE on his site, but when I visited his site, the FE section was dominated by the libel tract on Dennis! I informed that activist, whom I still see lionized to this day, even at Avalon, that I could not join an effort that featured a libel tract on my former partner.

The man offered to act as an intermediary in my “dispute” with that libeler, and I even have an email from that libeler from that incident, but my stance was clear and unwavering: I did not want to hear a story or excuses. The matter was clear: either support that $100 million number or retract it. Since I knew better than anybody on Earth what the real number was, the libeler was wise enough to not play that game with me, but a retraction never came. That disinformation essay is prominent to this day. That activist then spent a day creating a two-page summary of that ten-page essay, to assuage my concerns. He was still going to promote the 10-page libel essay, but accompany it with a two-page summary that left out the libel. That was not good enough for me, and it should be easy to see why.

I then spent about two days writing an inside account on my journey with Dennis, to draw the big picture of what we were doing and what we faced. He was getting the goodies, in a way that the public never has, and it was a complete waste of my time. His response to my 30-page inside-scoop letter was the observation that if Dennis, Mr. Mentor, and I were as talented as I had portrayed (they were the talent, not me, the spear carrier), then he could not imagine why we would not have been successful in bringing FE to the world. Yes, people in prominent places can be that naïve, people who should know better. With that reply, I was done with that activist, privately shaking my head.

Not only does that libel tract still dominate that activist’s site today, when that scientist wrote that libel tract, he cleverly did not name Dennis when he attacked him, although he named Dennis earlier in the essay, and anybody in the field knew full well who he was writing about when he attacked Dennis. That activist did that libeler one better by noting on his site that the libeler is writing about Dennis when he attacked him. The only visible effects of my interaction with that activist were his going that libeler one better in his essay, and writing that two-page summary that left out the libel. Was that an improvement?

A year later, at the NEM board meeting, as I stood talking with a board member, soon after that libeler was mentioned more than once as a potential conference speaker (and I was our only funder at the time), Alden walked up to us. Alden was from the old school, with his activism based on handing out pamphlets and the like. As I stood there, talking to a board member (who has also featured that libeler in that board member’s books) Alden was handing out that two-page summary. He put it in my hands as I was talking. I nearly exploded when I saw what he put in my hands. Brian tried calming the waters, making an observation about personality conflicts in the FE milieu. Brian was off-base about what was happening, which my readers can probably appreciate. It had nothing to do with personalities, but with criminal behavior.

There were similar events that weekend. I went home to Seattle, fuming. Not only was I funding NEM at that time (Joel would soon lose his job because of his FE proselytizing, so he had all summer to stage the conference, and he and I were the prime movers of that conference, being the only corporate members of NEM), but the fact that we were inviting that Canadian pirate and that libeling scientist into our inner circle, and we had barely gotten off the ground, clearly showed me where we were heading. I had watched that movie too many times already, and I tried to get the board to understand that inviting proven scoundrels into our effort would end badly. Not one of them, even Brian, understood my concern. The most sympathetic of them thought that the scientist owed Dennis an apology, or that the libeler’s presence at the conference would be too painful for me. That was not the point at all. Brian soon learned the hard way what I was concerned about. I asked to resign from NEM, immediately after that board meeting, even though I was its only funder. Brian begged me to stay, so I did.

Most of the board knew Eugene Mallove, and he was a unanimous choice as a conference speaker. Brian introduced me to Mallove the previous winter. Our board meeting was on Saturday, Mallove committed on Monday, I believe, but that was a very strange week. I began getting NEM’s website professionally managed, or so I thought, and my employee botched some things that week that caused Brian to blow his stack. Some was understandable, but some seemed over-the-top, as if Brian was dealing with undercurrents that were invisible to me. I was working 12-hour days at my day job for an Internet company, and I put in ten dog-years there, before taking the career break to write my big essay.

I worked 12-hour days in the office and came home to an NEM board in pandemonium, and helped calm the waters. By Friday, it was smooth-sailing, and I got an email from Brian, thanking me for hanging in there and straightening out the problems. Brian also wrote that he thought that we might have been under some kind of psychic attack, maybe psychotronic, as a way to derail NEM before it got off the ground. As Brian was writing me that email, the police were discovering Mallove’s body, after he had been bludgeoned to death. We heard the news the next morning.

That was the beginning of the end of Brian’s involvement in NEM. He immediately began searching for someplace to move to, outside of the USA, and he move to South America immediately after the NEM conference in September 2004, and lived the rest of his life in exile. I did not blame him.

I will always be skeptical of the official reason behind Mallove’s murder. The spooks have all sorts of ways to engineer incidents that can incapacitate or kill the targets. I clearly recall the emotional agony of that week, and Brian’s writing about being under psychic attack is not farfetched. I have experienced that level of agony only a few times in my life, and an aspect of it seemed artificially engineered, which I noticed at the time. The agony had an extra “oomph” behind it, which did not seem like it came from me, but was somehow being inflicted on me. I paused what I was doing and tried to put those feelings at bay. It was not a pleasant experience, to put it mildly. Mallove was a rather pugnacious fellow, and the way that he wrote, both to me and publicly, made it seem like he would be good in a bar fight. A think that a very plausible series of events was Godzilla’s minions beaming their mind-and-emotion-f**k technology onto key NEM board members and our first conference speaker, and see if that was enough to get the effort to self-destruct. Even if Mallove’s tenants really did it, and they seem to have, I think that there may well have been some “help” given to create the situation that led to Mallove’s death. As I recall, Mallove uttered some racial or ethnic epithet that directly led to the attack that killed him, and I will always wonder if his outburst had a little “help” from Godzilla’s minions.

Brian nearly died immediately after rejecting an “offer” from the USA’s military to do classified military work, after he hosted a UFO conference, and that organization booted Brian out afterward, too. Brian was spooked after Mallove’s death, and understandably. Brian went AWOL in South America as Joel and I were getting the conference together, as he abdicated his CEO role. They were challenging times!

Being an accountant, I handled most of NEM’s money in those days, contributed $15K to the cause after I asked Brian if I could bow out, and when that conference came, the last place on Earth that I wanted to be was there, and I ended up running the registration table! My wife helped me, and I took only one break at the conference’s first day, to see Greer speak. Groupies swarmed Brian, and it was a conference scene that I wanted no part of. It was a two-day conference, and as I worked the table for the second morning, guess who arrived? That libeler! Not only did he arrive, Brian and another board member were giving that libeler bear hugs 20 feet from the registration table. Talk about in my face! An hour later, after my registration duties were complete, I stormed out of there, drove home, and quit NEM the next day. Brian accepted my resignation with “understanding and sadness.” The same day, Brian’s pal John Mack died in an “accident,” and there was no keeping Brian from moving to South America after that. He had completely moved within a month of the conference, and Joel helped Brian move. Years later, Brian wondered if Joel was his CIA “handler.” I let Brian know that I strongly doubted it, and that Joel was just another overgrown Boy Scout who had not been through the meat grinder yet. But Brian’s “paranoia” was understandable. This is the kind of terrain that you navigate when you play these games, and it is not for dabblers or the faint of heart.

It is kind of a long story that I don’t want to get into today, if ever in public, but that other NEM board member giving the libeler bear hugs with Brian was later part of the board’s “rebellion” (Brian’s term) that booted Brian out of NEM, and that rebel got a lot of my money to boot. Brian was angry about what happened and offered to provide evidence to me of what happened, but I really did not need to know and declined Brian’s invitation to study his evidence. It was only going to be the hundredth variation of events that I had witnessed for myself, and it is not pleasant activity to engage in, to witness people acting dishonorably. I was not surprised at all by what happened.

I gave NEM several thousand dollars after I left, and wish Joel the best, but what I saw did not make me optimistic. I could go on for quite some time on this subject, but I’ll wrap up with this: one of the eventual board members attacked Brian at the same time as he embraced Mr. Skeptic, while making excuses for Mr. Skeptic’s criminal behavior. What is wrong with that picture?

In the end, I was about the only person who bowed out with honor, Brian eventually realized it and understood why I left, and years after I stepped down, Brian came back into my life and I carried his spears again. It was an honor to serve. Brian initiated the events that led to my first public interviews. What a truly great man he was. He did not play anywhere close to Dennis’s level, but his was one of FE milieu’s wisest voices, and he is missed, by me and many others.

I’ll finish this post with the incident that I began this post intending to write about, and my Yull writings are only a prelude. In 2004, as we were staging the conference, Alden was pulling all the strings that he could and helping run NEM’s administration, such as handling its mail. Alden was on a first-name basis with the big names in environmentalism, such as the CEOs of the Sierra Club, Greenpeace, etc. I had already had my lessons with environmentalists (as had Brian, such as with Lester Brown), and Alden was about to. I did not pay much attention to what Alden was doing on that front, as I had seen that movie too many times already, but Alden was the biggest name that bridged the FE and environmentalist camps, and he did what he could. I do not recall any environmentalist of note, other than Alden, getting involved with NEM back then.

One day, as Alden and I were talking about some business matters, the subject of Yull came up. Like so many Californian progressives in the 1990s, Alden was involved with Yull (as Adam Trombly also was). I talked to Alden about our days with Yull, and how we had paid him his $250,000 commission and treated him like a king, and Alden interrupted me with, “What do you mean, you paid him $250,000?!” I said that we paid him, and Alden interrupted me again, with “What did you pay him with?” At that moment, I was almost tempted to say, “Money, Alden. Have you ever heard of that?” But I just went into the facts of wiring the money to some Chinese account that Yull instructed Dennis to wire the money to, along with buying $1 million of Brown’s Gas machines, and I told Alden some of the details of Yull’s betrayal. That gained my credibility with Alden on the Yull issue, as he replied with, “That sounds just like something that Yull would have done.”

Then Alden told me why he challenged my account of our encounters with Yull, especially the $250,000 commission that we paid him. Yull’s Southern California supporters were not only accusing Dennis and Yull of lying about why they did not stage the transmutation demonstration at the Philly show, they were spreading the word far-and-wide that Dennis had no money at all. It seems that Yull never told his starving supporters of the gravy train that he was on with Dennis. Imagine for a moment the craziness of my situation. Alden was handing me an essay written by a man who openly lied about the money that Dennis had raised from his “victims,” making an insane $100 million claim, who was being invited into NEM’s inner circle, while that Canadian pirate was also being invited in, who made his own bootleg Brown’s Gas machines while never giving Yull a penny and berating Dennis for letting Yull die “penniless,” and Alden was challenging me that Dennis ever had any money at all. Dennis either ripped off the public for $100 million or he had no money at all. It was surreal, and was part of why I stepped down at NEM.

I have wrestled for years about revealing what I did in this post, but for the people I seek, it will be informative and educational, and will help them understand why I am trying out my current strategy. I named Joel and Alden because they have my respect, and Yull is long dead. The scoundrels shall largely remain nameless, but for those who are interested, the names are easily adduced, and I don’t mind naming Foster. Dennis thinks that Foster may be on some kind of special assignment for Godzilla or related interests, and I can see why he thinks that way. It’s a jungle out there!

Best,

Wade

Edited February 27, 2016 by Wade Frazier

[Wade Frazier]

Hi:

A theme that I have continually visited in recounting my adventures is that the enemy is us, and these Yull/Fischer/NEM posts are no exception. While we encountered the agents of organized suppression many times (Bill the BPA Hit Man, Mr. Texas, Mr. Deputy, a CIA bagman, judges on the take, the lying media, etc.), most of the damage, by far, was inflicted by our allies. That is why conspiracists bark up the wrong tree when they see Godzilla and friends as the root of our problems, when he is just an opportunistic parasite taking advantage of humanity’s lack of integrity and sentience. Humanity wakes up and grows up, and Godzilla slinks away like the coward he is. Focusing on Godzilla and his antics is not the path to a healed humanity and planet.

And that is why most FE newcomers do exactly the opposite of what they need to do, if they want to be safe and effective. They play the anonymous game in cyberspace (which will never make a dent of significance), fearing the agents of organized suppression, while thinking that they can proselytize to their social circles. The greatest peril, by far, does not come from the agents of organized suppression but from people’s social circles! And those newcomers almost invariably scoff at that, rush out to proselytize the FE “good news” to their social circles (because their social circles are different, of course, comprised of people with the right stuff), and if they do it much, they are shocked by the responses. As I recently wrote, careers have ended due to FE proselytizing.

I have been attacked by Mr. Skeptic, Mr. Deputy helped ruin my life, as did Mr. Texas, and as criminally as they behaved, the most pain was always caused by my friends and family. Mr. Skeptic, Mr. Deputy, and Mr. Texas never brought me to tears like my friends and family did, as they knew where to hit me where it hurt the most. While Mr. Deputy brought me to the lowest part of my journey, which was my life’s turning point, the worst part, by far, was watching people act dishonorably and criminally, ad naseum, and especially those closest to me. Like Dennis, I was shocked for the first 50 times or so, but then I began to become used to it. By the time it got back to me that my mother had mounted her “my son the criminal” scrapbook tour, I was no longer surprised or even hurt.

But sometimes a heart attack is just a heart attack, strange forms of cancer, hitting several key people simultaneously, is just a coincidence, being bludgeoned to death a few days after being the first speaker to commit to a FE conference is just one more sad random event on our benighted planet, and maybe when those deputies stole all of our technical material, it was only for their enjoyment, stealing it because they could, to peruse at their leisure while watching football games on TV. And if you believe all of that, I have a bridge that I would like to sell you.

Navigating between denial and paranoia is a key to becoming effective in the FE pursuit, to lose one’s naïveté but keep one’s heart whole, to become worldly without becoming cynical. Almost nobody has ever done it, but I seek the few who can. For those I seek, as long as they are not trying to get rich and famous, filling their social needs, and letting their egos get the best of them, as they help manifest the biggest event in the human journey, they will be safe. The way that I am approaching it, the risks to the choir will be small, but I have also had to be very picky on who could join. Some aspirants have shown some potential, but they need to work on it, get seasoned, give up their social movement ideas and proselytizing, learn to think comprehensively, and the like. The last thing that I am going to do is bring in people who are not fit for the task. It would not be fair to them, me, or my merry little band, and for now, it is little indeed, but that is OK. I never expected this to begin quickly. Nothing like this ever has.

Time for work.

Best,

Wade

Edited February 27, 2016 by Wade Frazier

[Wade Frazier]

Hi:

Writing of the difficulties of language and unprecedented ideas, and the in-group biases of journalists and historians, yesterday I was talking with a young relative who is studying the Salem witch trials in a college class. I listened to what she was learning, and it was interesting to hear what she was being taught. The class theme was that the traumas of King Philip’s War brought on the witch trials. As my readers know, this is a near and dear subject to me, and I dug into my library this morning and spent part of the day reading Schultz and Tougias’s King Philip’s War, which is largely a military history of battle details. The authors make no bones that the brutal war devastated New England’s natives, whose death toll in the war was ten times the proportion of English losses, and set the pattern for the genocidal manner in which the English and Americans “settled” North America. I have written at length about that “settlement.”

Their book spends a chapter at the beginning examining the larger picture and how the war began (land-greedy “settlers,” as usual), but then the rest of the book is a cut to the chase of the battles. Then I came to a page that told me in no uncertain terms that white men wrote the book, and a little background is in order. I wrote an essay about my adventures with Wikipedia’s editors regarding massacres of Indians by Europeans, and the double-standards that exist to this day are very telling. In the context of such events, a “massacre” generally refers to the slaughter of non-combatants (or surrendered combatants).

When the Puritans stumbled into Massachusetts, they “settled” land recently “cleared” by European disease, and the Wampanoag sachem Massasoit thought that the new “tribe” would make good allies in the regional struggles, as his peoples were decimated by European disease while the neighboring Narragansett tribe was unaffected. Massasoit was the primary reason why the “Pilgrims” survived, and is a central figure in that legendary first Thanksgiving feast. Metacom, later called Philip, was Massasoit’s son. After about ten years of a relatively idyllic existence between the Pilgrims and their benefactors, land-greedy English began coming by the boatload, and it began going downhill for the natives. Wholesale slaughter and annihilation of entire tribes quickly became an English specialty. The Narragansett participated in the war that eliminated their neighbors, the Pequot, but they were shocked by the exterminatory brutality of the English. A Narragansett sachem, Miantonomi, seems to have seen the writing on the wall and tried uniting the natives against the invaders before he was murdered.

So, the Narragansett were well acquainted with the genocidal English ways long before King Philip’s War broke out, and they were decidedly neutral when the war began. Then the English engaged in a preemptive strike on them, which slaughtered hundreds of women, children, and the elderly. Within a year, the Narragansett tribe was nearly extinct, as were the Wampanoag, and after being killed in an ambush, Philip’s head was displayed on a pole for a generation. Thus ended the people who welcomed the Pilgrims to New England.

A few months after the slaughter of the Narragansett women and children, an English force of more than 60 militiamen from Plymouth Colony was marauding in Narragansett land and was ambushed and defeated in battle, with the English killed to the last man, and only a few Indian allies escaped.

Both events are mentioned on page 57 of the book, but the successful ambush of the English troops was called a “massacre,” and the next paragraph called the English preemptive strike on the Narragansett a “tragedy.” Marauding troops with a lust for genocide getting some instant karma was a “massacre,” while the slaughter of the innocents is called a “tragedy.” Ah yes, those white historians. That kind of language can be subtle, and I wonder if the authors were even aware of the disparity in their depiction. This is really typical among white historians, even the seeming “progressive” ones.

Best,

Wade

Edited February 28, 2016 by Wade Frazier

[Wade Frazier]

Hi:

I am under some time pressure this morning to get to work, but to briefly return to my recent theme, in the aftermath of the Ventura experience, I immersed myself in a wide range of alternative material. One of the first times that I reached out was to Uncle Noam in 1992. While he was gracious and we corresponded for some time, he begged off of further consideration of my work, understandably. Several years later, when the Internet exploded onto the scene and I wrote my first site, I began interacting with the public for the first time since my days with Dennis. I reached out to what I thought were likely people, and other than Brian O, who was already on his own FE journey, I almost never found any takers.

Because of my immersion in “progressive” literature, and Noam’s prodigious body of work was among my earliest influences, I am guilty of reaching out to such “progressives” many times over the years. But unless I was summarizing Ralph McGehee’s work or writing to Howard Zinn, to get his permission to quote him, I almost never heard back, and if I ever heard back specifically on the FE issue, other than gracious replies from Noam and Ed, it was dismissal, usually a variation of “wake me up when you deliver FE to my home” or something similar. I get such reactions, or lack of them, to this day.

When Brian wrote in 1995 that he was going to become the Paul Revere of FE, I knew that he was going to have access to the leading scientific, academic, and “progressive” institutions that Dennis and I would never have, and while I had already had plenty of my own experiences by that time, I looked forward to hearing how his ride would go.

When Brian and I met in 2001 with the California governor’s energy advisors, after nearly being run out of town, later that day, I got to hear how his ride as the Paul Revere of FE went. All that he received were crazed reactions of denial and fear, from the world’s leading minds. Then he made the observation that will stay with me until I die, when he openly wondered if humanity was a sentient species. I sadly understood his query. But we still tried, and founding NEM a couple of years later was one of those efforts. Brian kept trying until he died, and I still throw my line in when I can, but I have almost never received a nibble, as the various authors are boxed-in by their perspectives. More coming on that later, but for now, it is off to work.

Best,

Wade

[Wade Frazier]

Hi:

This will be another relatively short one, as I don’t have much time right now. My journeys with Dennis, Brian, hitting the books, writing for the public, and so on were one of a number of threads of my life. I have had a career during all of that, and I had several stress breakdowns, the first began right out of college, when I had a headache every waking hour for three months, until I was fired. I did not know it yet, but those headaches were a stress reaction. I burned out during my LA days, my first stint with Dennis, my trucking company job, and most recently at my high-tech company, and I took a break, partly to write my big essay, but partly to recover from ten straight years of unrelenting mayhem.

On the personal front, I endured many devastations that were inflicted by my social circle, largely related to my journey with Dennis. By the time I heard that my mother mounted her “my son the criminal” scrapbook tour, it did not even hurt anymore, but up until recently, my family and friends inflicted despicable acts on me (until I weeded them all out of my life), as if I was their punching bag, virtually all related to my attempts to heal humanity and the planet or sponging off of me. And anybody who has walked a path like mine reports similar experiences. It just comes with the territory.

Burying Mr. Professor sent me into the dark phase of my midlife crisis, followed closely by the drumbeat for invading Iraq, just as I was finishing up my website. But soon after finishing my site, one of Bucky Fuller’s pupils had me read some of his work, and the lightbulb went on: the paradigm that I had been groping toward for 40 years finally crystallized. A month later, I read this article by Richard Heinberg, just before the USA invaded Iraq. Soon afterward, Heinberg published his The Party’s Over, which I eagerly read. Until then, I was only vaguely aware of the Peak Oil situation. I avidly read Heinberg’s sources, such as Catton’s work, Tainter’s work on collapsed civilizations, and Deffeyes’s book on Hubbert’s Peak. Heinberg had been Velikovsky’s assistant, and his multi-disciplinary approach surely was influenced by Velikovsky. Encountering Heinberg’s work was important for my studies, and he even gets some credit for the path that led to writing my big essay.

Heinberg created a huge splash in “progressive” circles with his Peak Oil message, just as the USA invaded the Middle East in its quest for oil hegemony. In his The Party’s Over, Heinberg mentioned FE as a possible solution. More than that, he mentioned Sparky Sweet (not by name, but anybody in the field knew whom Heinberg was writing about), mentioned how the patent process was one avenue of organized suppression, and he also mentioned the ET connection. Boy, was he ever coming right down my alley. After I read all of those books, I prepared to approach Heinberg, and in a very welcoming way. There he was, writing about situations that I had intimate knowledge about, and I wanted to introduce him to Brian, as this was just around the time that we founded NEM. A site that heavily promoted my work also was involved with Heinberg, and I asked that activist to introduce us, and we were.

Looking back, I should have been warned by Heinberg’s semi-ridiculing exclamation points, and I was a little wary because of them, and Heinberg set me straight almost immediately: he was not really interested in FE at all, but just liked to disparage the idea while feigning interest. What a letdown. He has been banging the Peak Oil drums of doom ever since. A few years later, he even stated that there was no evidence of any FE device ever working. Nobody is as blind as those who refuse to open their eyes. I have seen plenty of conspiratorial musings about Heinberg over the years, claiming that he is one of Godzilla’s minions, similar to how Uncle Noam has been called a Left Gatekeeper. Those ideas are simplistic conspiratorial fare that I do not consider valid, but I understand the sentiment. They are simply boxed in by their conditioning, like everybody is.

But the really frustrating part about Heinberg and his faux interest in FE was that the “progressives” and environmentalists could not get enough of his message of doom. The year after we founded NEM, we tried to get Brian into every venue that we could, and the very same “progressive” and environmental organizations that feted Heinberg slammed the door in Brian’s face. What is wrong with that picture? I was seeing Heinberg on the cover of magazines as I was buying groceries, and when I saw an interview with Heinberg in my Z Magazine, which I have subscribed to for more than 20 years, which finally spurred me to write two essays, one on Peak Oil and one on Heinberg and the Peak Oilers’ drums of doom.

Heinberg was the quintessential Level 3, but a rather bizarre one. The “smart” dismiss FE on the “laws of physics” objection, and evidence of organized suppression is dismissed as a “conspiracy theory.” Both reflect the Fourth Epochs’ religion, and both are irrational positions, ironically. While Heinberg dismissed FE, he warmly embraced the leading conspiracy theory of the 21^st century: the idea that 9/11 was an inside job. He was close pals with Michael Ruppert, who authored an “inside job” tome on 9/11, and they had blurbs on each other’s books. I contacted Ruppert back in those innocent days, and he at least replied somewhat graciously, but I never heard from him again, and he banged the Peak Oil drums of doom clear up to when he killed himself in despair. Those events helped lead to my realization that those drum-beaters were simply addicted to scarcity. Those were a seminal series of events for me, on the heels of reading Bucky’s work, in which he observed that people are addicted to scarcity and failure. The idea is not entirely original with me, but I eventually had it beaten into my head in no uncertain terms.

Best,

Wade

Edited March 2, 2016 by Wade Frazier