SECTION THREE

Entry #0016: Searching for Clues in all the Wrong Places
11-08-2008

Sometimes I sit here at my desk down in Area 57 at my computer in my station of operations, searching through any and all documents and articles for clues regarding who might be after me.

Although I have submitted those rather strange reports from Zones Unknown to various magazines, e-zines, and web sites for the last few years, I naïvely believed they would simply be for entertainment purposes. Although I always search for facts for my articles, sometimes I only find secondhand information or bizarre conspiracy theories, but I let readers know when I question certain info. Little did I know that these reports would cause an unexpected uproar from mysterious factions, ironically from uncertain zones unknown that I had no idea would literally pop up from nowhere.

Was it the multipart article about the Roswell incident? Perhaps the one about Area 51 that the government denies exists? Possibly the article about the Gulf War Syndrome the government tried to keep under a lid, or even the one about those enigmatic Men in Black? Perhaps those two ominous men that came to my door and threatened me were Men in Black! And what about that ominous van in black? Hmmm . . .

So here I am racking my brain, trying to figure out whose feathers I've ruffled. It doesn't make sense, because there are scads of books and articles and material online about all this conspiracy crap. Most of these writers get away with it, but then I've heard that some don't. Why am I being singled-out? Why am I the focus of somebody's malicious attention and not some of the others that write this same kind of material? I really don't know.

Some of these whistleblowers who are trying to expose the truth (some of which you will find in my Zones Unknown articles) remain unscathed, and then a few others either disappear or experience a supposed "accident" that leads to their death. It seems random who is picked and who isn't. So which of these individuals are too threatening and which are not? I really don't know. I certainly can't be that threatening to somebody out there -- can I? I've already contemplated whether or not this is some elaborate practical joke, and I've ruled that out. The other explanation is that I might be completely deluded, if not schizophrenic. So the old Starkmeister might be stark raving mad! Yikes!

But the scariest possibility is that somebody is actually after me.


Entry #0017: The Mysterious "Nightlight"
11-10-2008

 I've had several sources and various individuals from which my material for Zones Unknown and other articles have come from: some of them from informative books, newspaper articles, DVD documentaries, countless online sources, or people I've interviewed over the phone or in person, and so on. It takes a lot of leg work to maintain being a researcher of the strange; or investigator of the phenomenally weird.

Some of the info I've retrieved over the last few years for my articles came from a particular mysterious individual, whom I hinted at earlier. He is a "Deep Throat" type character that I sometimes get a chance to talk with, who wishes to remain anonymous, and who only uses the codename "Nightlight." So far our communications have been strictly cell phone conversations or occasional brief e-mails -- and he refuses to meet in person. I can never reach him, he can only call me. But I had to give him my new cell phone number, although that may have been a risky decision. He told me he uses payphones to reach me, so I can't trace him so easily, or anybody else for that matter. So this freak is as paranoid as me!

Anyway, I don't know what connections this character has, since I don't know how he gets his information. He might be a member of the Intelligence community (or an ex-member), or some radical conspiracy theorist, or he could be a total crackpot. But sometimes his information sounds so intriguing, and even authentic, I often use his data as sources for my articles. Perhaps some juicy tidbit he had relayed to me once that winded up in one of my articles could be the primary factor causing this whole freaking mess. But what? Perhaps it didn't matter anymore and it was too late, since they were already pursuing me. But I couldn't help but want an answer, and I was hoping I could find clues in my articles. But so far to no avail.


Entry #0018: The desert's a nice place to visit, but unfortunately I have to live here.
11-12-2008

It's a strange feeling. Being cut off from the rest of the world. My only connection to the people is through the online medium. Or my few contacts via cell phone, like the occasional call from Nightlight, and especially my old pal Leo Stroud, but sometimes we communicate by e-mail or instant messenger. Otherwise, I'm pretty much alone. I haven't really associated with the people in town much, except to buy groceries at the Mulvern Market, do a load of wash at the Laundromat, or eat out at the Kountry Kitchen Restaurant, or check my scads of junk mail at the Post Office (which I stopped doing now, since I cancelled my P.O. Box just yesterday; I didn't really need it since all my parcels were in), and so forth.

It's very tranquil and serene here, and leisurely walks along the dirt roads or through the wild desert flora is very relaxing. I enjoy hearing the subtle wind blowing through the Joshua trees, the yuccas, and the greasewoods, or sometimes the high-pitched whiney sound of the cicadas that drone on and on. In the evenings or during the moonlit nights, you'll hear the lonely howling of the coyotes.

Right now its sunny and pleasant outside, a few lingering clouds, probably 70 something degrees. I just got back from one of those walks, saw no humans in sight, since most of these cabins up on the slope are vacant, but not all. So here I am with my personal apocalypse, last man on Earth - okay, my imagination is running wild again.

Sometimes the yucky brown smog will ooze up through the passes in the mountains to the south, and thankfully the wind will blow it away, after a few days, that is. But up here in the high desert it is so peaceful, and very conducive to meditation. Sometimes I'll sit on a rock slab and meditate, or just tune into nature around me. When I do this late at night, the vast canopy of brilliant stars seem so close you could almost reach up and touch them with your fingertips. There are no city lights up here to snuff out the starlight, so you feel closer to outer space out in the desert, closer to the stars.

Yes, I think I've chosen a good place to isolate myself, to remain in hiding from those who are searching for me. Alright, I'm not totally cut off from the world, at least I visit Mulvern once a week to get supplies and groceries, and visit with the townsfolk now and then, but just in passing. Nothing really happens down there, and since there's only one sheriff and two deputies, practically no crime, it's probably the quietest place on Earth. Other than occasional jaywalking and a few minor traffic violations, it was a pretty boring town.

Some of these folks I remember from school days, but apparently a lot of them have moved away. Bob Richardson (who used to be a tall skinny straw-headed kid, got bad grades and had a lot of girlfriends, sometimes three at a time it would seem) is now the manager of Mulvern Market, and he has a wife and four kids - and his kids are grown and in their early 20s now. Man, does time fly! Fortunately he doesn't recognize me, after all these years, and I only realized who he was from his store name tag, but since I'm here in this town incognito, I can't reveal who I am.

So when I'm in town, I keep my eyes peeled in case I noticed any suspicious strangers I haven't seen before. I've gotta be cautious. As long as those mysterious pursuers can't find me, then I'm satisfied for now.

I keep Leo apprised of my situation, at least once a week. Incidentally, last time I talked to him on the phone, a couple weeks ago, we made a plan for him to come out and visit me for a week or so. When, I'm not sure. I told him to be careful, that he might be followed, because if this happened, he would lead my enemies right to my doorstep. He just laughed and said, "Dude! You're paranoid!" He's right, of course. But for a good reason. I call it healthy paranoia.


Entry #0019: Further Security Measures -or- Paranoia-Buffers
11-14-2008

There's something I should've mentioned earlier, especially for those who are pretty much techno-savvy. Not long after I moved into the cabin in the high desert, Leo informed me that I needed to protect myself from being discovered in my new location, especially while I use my computer and cell phone, which are easy ways for intelligence operatives, or whoever, to trace me. As long as I continue to go online I would be an easy target, being tagged and tracked through my IP address. He explained how I could prevent this so my pursuers would have less chances of locating me. So through his expertise I learned to use RDC, or "remote desktop connection" so that I could control other computers that were unprotected by having no passwords or passwords that could be easily broken. Hence, I can currently access the use of various random IP addresses, so that I can safely continue my online activities, such as Internet surfing, e-mailing and instant messaging, etc. A lot of internet pirates use this technique for illegally downloading music or movies or other info, I've learned.

Also with Leo's help, I downloaded an e-mail address scrambler program that he created himself (he's a pretty smart guy!) where you can retain a permanent e-mail address, but no one can trace you - in theory. He explained how the program works, but it was way over my head. The gist is that to the outside world I can retain my permanent address, but internally, several others random addresses are floating around that creates some kind of diversion or scrambling action, which I guess throws off intruders. Beyond that, I didn't understand the hi-tech details.

I keep in contact with only a select few via e-mail, particularly Leo and Nightlight. But I still get the usual flood of spam. But my spam-blocker sends it to what I call the Limbo Zone. Then when that gets full I send it all packing to the Delete Zone.

Another thing I had to do was disable the GPS in my cell phone so as to lessen the chances that satellites would track me, so my pursuers couldn't find me this way either. If you're gonna hide, you might as well do it safely and efficiently. So with Leo's help, I was able to accomplish these tasks and assure further security measures. If not to satiate my weirdly paranoid instinct for survival.

11-16-08 Blog Comment:
"WE'RE WATCHING YOU!" - "them"
them@them.com


Entry #0020: A Conspiratorial Comment
11-17-2008

Alright. I've had to block a lot of spam in the Comment section of this blog, so no one has to see it, but I left this one comment "WE'RE WATCHING YOU!" simply from "them."

I should stop advertising my over-abundant sense of paranoia. Either that last comment somebody left was just some practical joker, or it was from my annoying enemies. "Them"? Is that supposed to sound ominous? Hmmm . . . I called my friend Leo about it, who is also my fellow writer on Bamblebrush of course, because he can trace where these comments come from, see what their e-mail addresses originate from. But he told me it was most likely one of those randomly generated e-mail addresses that people use when they don't want the authorities or anybody to trace them, or to evade spam-blocker programs. This way they can have a different e-mail each time they send some annoying message out. Really clever, but horribly irritating! Leo said that spammers do this all the time so that you can't so easily block junk mail. Even if you put the said spammer on your Blocked Senders List, they will shortly abandon the previous e-mail address and generate a new one each and every time. It's really super annoying! I already have that problem in my e-mail reader, so I'm still endeavoring to block these idiotic spammers. Why don't they go out and get a life! Hmmm. Why don't I?

Anyway, I'm hoping and praying my adversaries haven't found me yet and that comment is just a scare tactic -- or just somebody playing games. I don't need to be even more obsessively paranoid than I am already, so I'm going to vote on the practical joker scenario. So I'm just going to ignore "them."


Entry #0021: Flashbacks of Yesteryears, Part 1: My Introduction to Strange Phenomena, -or- How it all lead up to this point.
11-19-2008

How the heck did I get myself into this whole freaking mess? And how did writing these strange reports lead to this crazy fiasco? Well, as usual, it was a string of events, one event leading to the next. It all started with my unusual yet intriguing interests. I've always been fascinated with the possibility of the existence of UFOs and extraterrestrials, and paranormal phenomena. But it was just an off-and-on mild fetish, often buried by more important matters in my life. Like keeping a job and food on my plate.

Although since I was kid, I was fascinated with the study of stars and planets and galaxies and such heavenly bodies, or astronomy in general, and I read a lot of science fiction and fantasy novels; but these interests paled in comparison to unusual event and experiences that transpired as my life unfolded.

For instance, this old can of worms first got opened when I was around fourteen years old living in the high desert, when my older brother and I took a visit to the little town called Landers, and nearby was this peculiar place called Giant Rock Airport, a strange desolate area with a lot of rocks and boulders and barren desert landscape. My brother showed me some cool petroglyphs on the boulders that he told me were inscribed by aliens - but he was always pulling my leg. I'm sure Native Americans put them there.

Members of weird metaphysical cults met at Giant Rock occasionally, and UFO conventions were also held there, and a strange character named George Van Tassel was behind it all. But that day when my brother and I visited, there were just a few tourists loitering around. We only saw a few small biplanes in a field, possibly just for the effect. My brother had told me the real reason it was called an airport was because UFOs were sighted there all the time, or even landed sometimes. Yeah, right.

We also investigated the enormous boulder (the giant rock itself) under which resided a little tourist shop type area, which was essentially a big hole in the earth, and you had to climb down a flight of stairs to get into it. In this little shop we found strange paraphernalia and literature and whatnot, and the metaphysical and astronomy and UFO books interested me greatly. There were big colorful posters of shimmering UFOs and bug-eyed grey aliens plastered out on the stone walls.

This whole thing inspired me immensely, so when I got home I got out my tape recorder and started babbling about my views and interests in aliens and UFOs. And I even pretended to be a lecturer at a Giant Rock UFO convention, yammering idiotically about my experiences in sighting UFOs and seeing actual aliens -- all products of my vivid and crazy imagination, of course. I even let my mom listen to my tape, as if this was something I was proud of -- and of course she thought it was just a bunch of stupid foolishness. And she was right!

Once the fire got lit under me to where I became consumed by it, it was hard to put me out!


Entry # 0022: Flashbacks of Yesteryears, Part 2: Exposure to the Extraordinary
11-23-2008

Plus I have had strange psychic phenomena occur now and then, like the visitation from my dead grandmother who hovered at the foot of my bed, and the odd dream of my youthful-looking uncle Rodney who came to see me in a race car -- who had just died a few days prior, and such things that usually go bump in the night.

When I was a teenager I even had one of those flashy out-of-body experiences -- but then doesn't everyone? In later years, a psychic performed a fascinating past life regression on me, and guided me in viewing some of my past lives - like, one time I was a neophyte in some Egyptian temple called the Temple of the Rising Star, and another one where I was just a farmer out on the prairie working the field, and I had also been a monk in a monastery a few times. Whether or not these were real or just creations from the subconscious, I really don't know. Plus I've had some eye-opening soul-uplifting mystical experiences that were too personal to just tell anyone or everyone - sorry folks! Get your own private mystical experiences!

Also, if you'll recall in Zones Unknown, there's a little article called "My Alien Encounters," where I had the freaky experience of feeling as if I was being watched, and when I looked up there was the strangest, ghastliest alien creature looking down at me! Then it disappeared. So yes, I've had fuel for thought over the years, and plenty of inspiration to write these never-a-dull-moment articles.

But one of my later sources of inspiration was due to the fact I was an avid fan of The X-Files, and I'm pretty sure I've seen every episode. Plus ever since the early 90s, I've been listening to a fascinating radio talk show called Coast-to-Coast A.M., and sometimes they talk about paranormal or psychic phenomenon, and UFOs and extraterrestrials and such. The fascinating Art Bell was the host back then, later taken over by George Noory. I still listen to the program, almost every night while I sit down here in my station of operations, below ground-level in Area 57, while I rattler away on my computer, getting ideas for my articles. Some of the spiel they discuss sounds pretty outrageous if not impossible, and I don't believe everything I hear, but there are times when what they say sounds authentic.

Alright, what's next? You need further proof that I'm a stark raving maniac of the insane kind? Several years ago, when I still lived in Sioux Falls, I worked in the building maintenance department for a company called Lodgenet, where they catered to the hotel and motel industries by way of television entertainment through games and videos -- back when DVDs were a tad too fancy for people. There was one department I often visited because of a really fascinating character that worked there named Mick; a long-haired, potbellied jovial fellow that was always glad to see me because he knew my strange interests. He would always bring me to his computer and show me the latest eye-popping, throat-grabbing, fascinating info he had stumbled upon, whether they be strange unexplained mysteries, diabolical conspiracies, or UFO and paranormal phenomena. My visits with him reawakened my old interests, and from this was born the idea of writing actual articles, which found their way in various mediums and web sites, but in particular in my own "Strange Reports from Zones Unknown."

Article: My Alien Encounters


Entry # 0023: Flashbacks of Yesteryears, Part 3: The Birth of a Strange Concept
11-23-2008

My good friend in St. Louis, Leo Stroud, always had a few web sites up his baggy sleeves, and together we had often created entertaining sites for the fun-loving public. Some of them would fly for a short time, then crash and burn. Our latest one was -- and still is -- Bamblebrush, and this is where I began posting articles about the paranormal, UFOs, conspiracy theories and cover-ups, and so forth. The Zones Unknown concept evolved through three or four different incarnations, or embodiments, or life-cycles, or whatever you want to call them.

The concept began as a basic blog, simply as "Zones Unknown," but soon I added the moniker "Strange Reports from" to this. I continually had to reinvent it and make a few changes here and there, or change the blog format, and I even had planned an actual book to be published, but there were too many loose ends and rough edges, so this is still a future possibility. But I did at least try an online book format for a while, demonstrating how it would look as an e-book. But there was some awkwardness to this format. I also began a special project which involved researching various secret societies and their conspiratorial aspects and other controversial views, which I hope to publish online someday soon, most likely through the Zones Unknown medium.

Also, many of these Zones Unknown articles were published through other web sites and e-zines and magazines as well, gaining in popularity, and at one particular web site I was able to stick a photo of my ugly mug in a bio section for my series of articles. If it's still there, that mug shot should be found at the Ezine Articles web site. Eventually, these posts and articles began drawing unidentified antagonists and anonymous agitators that eventually threatened me, which I explained at the beginning of this blog, if you recall.

Anyway, now Zones Unknown is back to a blog format, which is just as well. I plan to someday create my own website outside of Bamblebrush where I will have full control, but that will be after this whole crazy fiasco is resolved - which I hope will be soon.

Since I'm in hiding from these mysterious goons -- and I can only guess as to whom they might be -- I am tempted to be cautious while writing these blogs, but I also feel the bold daring to continue exposing the truth that certain covert factions wish to remain concealed. I have literally gone underground, for a few months now, and so far no one has discovered my new location - as far as I know. So I plan to continue writing for the rights of the public to know the truth. Because it is definitely out there - somewhere...

I just hope my severe paranoia syndrome doesn't force me to stop circulating my articles.
Because, sometimes I wonder, what if I am imagining some of this ongoing shit - or even all of it!

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