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Boo Frog, Snow Bud and the Flower People, Divining Rods, Napalm Beach

Courtney Love as a honey trap

In 1981, with income of about $800 a month from a trust fund set up by her maternal grandfather, Courtney moved into the first of many co-ed houses with struggling artists and rock performers. She promptly developed a crush on the lead singer of a group called Napalm Beach. From her earliest days, the objects of her affection have almost always been the breed that sings.

Hank Harrison, who had essentially been awakened from the dead, made up for the years he and Courtney had lost. He made good on his offer to put her up in Ireland, and several people who knew Courtney at the time say that she showed up with a thousand hits of very strong L.S.D.

– Melissa Rossi, Courtney Love: Queen of Noise p 33-34

Why was I not good enough to save you from destruction?
Your end and my beginning – Oh, they need no introduction

– Courtney Love, “Honey”

I’m not sure when it first occurred to me that Courtney Love was a honey trap. I think it was sometime in 2019 and I’ll get to why. It is interesting though, that the first time I recognized that Courtney may have been trying to communicate to Chris via song was in her song “Honey.” And I strongly suspect now that the word “honey” – including the way it is used in A.A. Milne’s Winnie The Pooh books, and likely also in the band name Mudhoney. Mudhoney took their name from a 1965 Russ Meyer film I don’t recall seeing but also may be linked to the idea of a honey trap. I suspect that in the song “Honey” Courtney is admitting that she was used – by the FBI/CIA – as a honeytrap both for Chris Newman and for Kurt Cobain.

In 2013 I showed our music attorney a recording of “Honey” and I said I thought it contained a message to Chris. The attorney blew me off. He had massive conflicts of interest, and for this reason, in his dealings with Chris and me, was committing malpractice.

This is the recording I showed him:

The word “gutter” by the way appears to also have an underlying meaning, which is linked to “pins” and “spikes” – it references a radio frequency implant that is covertly placed into a person’s food which allows the gut and internal organs to be targeted with ultrasonic and other frequency-based weapons. In Chris’ case, his gut and gall bladder were among the organs which were attacked with cancer-causing frequencies. Similarly, my maternal grandfather was killed with stomach cancer in 1980. Everyone around me seems to have at least one implant in their gut. The CIA, FBI, and associated gangsters are behind this.

The reason why I am tending to fold the FBI and CIA into a single entity is because the CIA is, by law, not permitted to conduct operations – certainly not this type of operation – in the United States, against US citizens. So they are doing so under protection of the FBI, which is the one US agency that I know of which is linked both to intelligence activities and to the Justice Department (policing). The crimes I’ve experienced and witnessed are so heinous – and OBVIOUS – that I’ve tried to report them numerous times to police and FBI and so by now it’s beyond clear that the FBI is involved in, and covering up these crimes, and it is increasingly clear that they are doing this on behalf of the CIA as well as corporate entities.

One of the things the CIA/FBI has been doing is engaging in, and shepherding an older occult practice of child enslavement and covert trafficking sometimes called trauma-based mind control. My own family – both my mother’s side and my father’s side – have also been involved in this, both as victims and as handlers. This practice appears to run in families, and it seems to also have been part of Courtney’s family, on both her mother and father’s side. Without getting into detail right now, there are things that tell me this is the case. Furthermore, Kurt Cobain was in the same situation, at least on his mother’s side of the family. And Chris Newman as well, at least on his father’s side. The CIA/FBI seems to have been actively involved in cementing this system through systematic psychological warfare and use of these frequency based weapons which operate through the use of ground-based antennas, hand held weapons, and networks of drones which are difficult, but definitely not impossible, to see and photograph. I’ve got tons of photos of these aircraft, but the FAA is also participating in this cover up, as is the FCC so as long as the cover ups and omerta is intact, what can be done about it?

If you look up the definition of “honey trap” online, you learn that, at least in theory, a honey trap is supposed to collect intelligence information from their target – evidence and secret plans and so forth. This is not really how honey traps have been used with Chris and I – never mind that Chris and I were both artists, not foreign diplomats, military officers, or spies. With us, honeytraps have been used mostly for misdirection, subversion, and trafficking. Sure, the honey traps might report on us, but there’s no reason to suspect they were reporting accurate information. Likely they were paid to waste our time and sabotage us in different ways. In the case of Courtney, she was for Chris, for lack of a better word, jailbait. And this is why I first realized that she was a honey trap. Because I too, was sent jailbait. Not only that, but both Courtney and the young man who was sent after me were, in the late 1980s, connected to the same woman – Erika Schlaeger Dos Santos of Minneapolis, Minnesota.

I am not suggesting that Erika Schlaeger (I’ll use her maiden name from here) was behind the honeytrapping – just that she herself was part of the same child trafficking network.

I met Erika Schlaeger in northern Minnesota in the fall of 1985. Without getting into details, I am certain that I met her because I was meant to meet her. We quickly became friends, both having the same first name and feeling like outsiders. I left Minnesota the following spring, but ended up being funneled back to Minnesota in August 1987, where I quickly hooked up again with Erika Schlaeger who was then living in an artist warehouse space in downtown Minneapolis, the Berman Buckskin Warehouse. I went to school in Minneapolis for a while, then left in October 1989.

Erika Schlaeger hung out with artists, poets, and people in bands. I knew she was friends with girls in a band called Babes In Toyland that she thought was cool, but I didn’t know much more than that. She may have played me a tape, and I probably thought it was sludge and didn’t give it much thought. The so-called kinderwhore look was a thing back then – a lot of punk girls had that look – babygirl barrettes and girly dresses. It wasn’t really my thing.

I later learned from Erika Schlaeger that she also knew Courtney Love. She said that Courtney had almost moved into her warehouse space, but then decided to stay with Kat Bjelland instead. Trying to piece together exactly when this was, I concluded based on recent interviews, it was 1988. In other words, when I was living in Minneapolis and in regular contact with Erika Schlaeger.

A Minneapolis Star Tribune blog from 2010 quotes Courtney as saying she lived in Minneapolis three years “(’87-’89)” – but I seriously doubt that. I’m the one that lived in Minneapolis (and St Paul) – for two years – August 87-October 89. I suspect that Courtney was in Minneapolis for less than a year, in 1988. But I don’t know, because she moved around a lot and stories conflict.

I felt, even before meeting Chris, that Courtney was some kind of shadow person in my life, living in the SF Bay Area when my parents lived there, then in rural Oregon when I lived in rural Humboldt County, then in Portland and Minneapolis and Seattle – all places linked to me, some before she was there, some after. I even started having dreams about her, beginning in 2002. When Chris mentioned his connection to her to me in 2009, it was like it was just more of the same thing.

From June 1988 to October 1989 I lived in an apartment on University Ave in Dinkeytown, near the University of Minnesota. We used to hang out at a neighborhood coffeeshop called Giocco’s.

Sometime in late 1988 or early 1989, at Giocco’s, Erika Schlager introduced me to a young black boy – supposedly only 15 years old – who apparently was on his own, homeless. In my journals I call him “George.” I can’t remember if that was his real name or a name I made up. I wrote in an entry dated May 30, 1989 about my last meeting with George, where we walked down to the old Pillsbury Mill on the Mississippi river and he showed me the scar on his abdomen he said was from a bullet where his father shot him. “He was trying to shoot my mother but I got in the way of the bullet,” he told me.

For various reasons, I suspect the little boy in the 2018 film called Proud Mary was based on “George” and that the female assassin character who cares for him is a combination of Erika Schlaeger and my Dinkytown roommate at the time. And I suspect the older song called Proud Mary was based on the name of one of Chris’ ancestors, Mary Proude, wife of Isaac Pennington and mother-in-law to William Penn.

Mary Proude

Anyway, when I first met George, I was 20 years old and he said he was 15 – the same age difference, incidentally, as between Mike Payne (also a honey trap) and me, when we met (I was 16 and he was 21). And 15 year old George was always putting the moves on me. He wanted me to be his girlfriend. It was probably after I’d seen the movie Proud Mary, and I started remembering George, and seeing the parallels between him offering himself to me, and Courtney offering herself to Chris, that I realized that this wasn’t likely just something that happened – it was a situation that was manufactured by someone in the background. And it was no doubt manufactured in the hopes of trapping us in order to smear us. I am certain that there were hidden cameras ready and eager to capture – and traffic – any misstep that might happen.

Erika Schlaeger is the one who introduced me to George, and was closer to him than me – seemed to take on a maternal role with him. He may have even stayed at her warehouse space. I don’t know where she met him, or whether they continued to stay in touch. On our last meeting, this was the conversation we had, which I put into my journal:

George: I won’t be seeing you no more… cause I’m going on a car trip across the United States.

Me: Who are you going on a car trip with?

George: These two girls.

Me: I’ll miss you.

George: No you won’t.

Me: Why not?

George: Because I’m taking you with me.



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