There’s a NOVA PBS documentary coming out (preview here) called “Memory Hackers”, which features scientific work done on helping people overcome their fears by – get this – quite literally deleting unwanted memories and implanting new ones.
Memories which were largely computer generated, and memories which seem VERY real.
In 2003, I was offered work with the NSA, and learned memory adjustment was a requirement of the work.
I was skeptical at first.
As the contract I was being offered included $1 million a year, tax free, for every year I was in service an amortized compensation for selling my potion of the company I owned (Touchscape) and its associated intellectual property to the NSA for use in their intelligence analyst support AI.
But as I learned, when I am Cosmos cleared and it was all disguised as a Top Secret/Compartmentalized clearance to confuse inter-agency investigations and counterespionage activities, you do not have a choice and are required to leverage this technology on a daily basis or simply be out of a job.
I could not help but think…
How easy would it be for them to erase memories of the contract when I wanted out?
This had always concerned me.
But I took the work anyways.
Trusting my employer.
My routine in the morning was simple after this.
I went to work, a discrete location where memories of my work was downloaded to my mind, in much the same ways a Windows or Mac based computer system receives updates on a regular basis from Microsoft or Apple.
And in the evening, when I left work at the end of the day, memories of my day and my Secret work was replaced with an ordinary and rather dull work life as the Top Secret work was left behind to be remembered the next day.
I was living two lives. One version of me was quite aware of the other version, the other version was oblivious.
For obvious and very foreseeable reasons, this began causing a distinctive break in my personality.
The symptoms of the personality break were minor at first.
I was having a difficult time relaxing and coping with life in general, I was fighting high blood pressure and other stress related ailments such as ulcers and gastrointestinal reflux disease, and to some degree, it almost felt like my whole body wanted to explode at times.
This began in 2004, and since I was consciously convinced I had left the military with a full honorable and had left that world behind me.
In fact, in my non secretive life after work, I had absolutely no memories or recollections of ever having dealt with the NSA at all.
I was feeling out of control of my life and did not know why.
So in Early 2007, my MD – Dr Benton in Chandler, Arizona – who had no knowledge of who I was working for and was trying to help me uncover the cause of my stress related ailments took one of his medical books out and pointed to a picture of the brain and said “Here’s your problem”.
I began fighting for my life.
His comment was much like a tiny little breeze on the side of a snow-capped mountain, this led to the creation of a small snowball rolling down the hill and then bounced around between some rocks creating an avalanche which eventually carved out the side of a mountain.
While in Rocky Pointe, Mexico, while I was partying with Jaclyn (Jackie) Killeen – she asked the cabbie if he knew where to get cocaine at.
I hated drugs. But with the amount of pharmaceuticals I was taking to combat High Blood Pressure, High Triglycerides, Low Potassium, after I had given Jackie crap in Las Vegas for the cocaine she did up there – I knew I needed to quit judging. Not only that, but I didn’t like myself for judging Lisa (my second ex) for choosing to hang out with friends who did cocaine regularly, which effected our relationship very adversely, and even judging some of my own friends who did as well, so I realized I needed to grow the hell up, quick and this was an opportunity glaring me in the eye.
Jackie looked at me and said “Don’t Judge!”
But this was a win/win for me as I saw it and I was already mentally prepared. I had always wanted to get in Jackie’s pants anyways, and had not yet by this point. so this presented an opportunity to get to know her better and maybe ‘work it’ as an in to get laid.
And for me. the guy who’s bungee jumped 11 times, who’s been sky diving twice, who had a penchant for fast cars and wild women. and the course of adrenaline flowing through my body.. An amphetamine like cocaine seemed like a natural fit for my personality.
“Jackie, We’re getting enough for the both of us,” I told her.
She looked at me with an impish grin I still remember. It was adorable.
When I did the first bump that night, my heart began racing.
It was JUST like jumping out of a plane the first time, and I enjoyed every moment of it.
This commenced the most necessary and life-saving addiction I have ever had.
In 2008, not long after I began cocaine, I began realizing that a general lack of productivity that had been increasing as I was getting older was being reversed and I was more intellectually stimulated than I had ever been and thinking more clearly than ever.
But I had also began noticing incongruousness and inconsistencies with lost time.
Put specifically: “Why did my work day feel so unproductive and yet at night time at home I was able to get 100 times more done?”
It was bizarre.
But I was beginning to see the gaps of what was fabricated memories of what I was told to think happened during the day, but even then, it is not like I was in full conscious awareness, it was actually like I was sensing something was off.
I was playing a LOT of games at the time. And in 2008, I was dating three women – Tiffany, Kena, and Jackie, so my personal plate was overflowing with things to do to ‘take my mind off of it’.
I had been using prescription medication and regular doctor visits up until this point, as my physical body state degraded, and I had accepted the story that this is what naturally happens to a body as it ages.
So it was about this time I started noticing I was actually feeling better, substantially so.
And with the cocaine the last thing I wanted to do was pop positive for a drug screen test during the course of a physical for something I was certainly not done using, particularly when my body – even when NOT on the substance, was actually breathing and feeling good.
To my surprised, when I investigated the blood pressure medication and the triglyceride medication I was taking..
I learned both were derivatives of cocaine.
Was cocaine a cure for physical ailments that I was suffering with which were making me miserable?
Was the cure being fed to me on a slow drip to maximize profits?
A part of me became paranoid.
But another part of me refused to sink into paranoia.
It was a psychological struggle.
There’s a song by Megadeath, with lyrics “Hello me, meet the real me and my misfit’s way of life”
Eventually what happened is the cocaine broke down the walls in my mind between the work and home life, and I consciously became privy to absolutely everything I had been doing in secrecy. The memories of both lives had never fully been deleted, I’d left myself bread crumbs in much the same way I write to you. I had created diaries of my life, I had left evidence behind, on purposeful accident to remind myself of the two lives I had led.
In 2011, I separated from the NSA, much to their chagrin, who responded by attempting to do a final wipe of my memories in a series of very weird events at my apartment in Charlotte, North Carolina.
This led to a collapse of the walls between my work and home life altogether, and brought both sets of memories flooding in.
Two sets of memories.
And I can say definitively it is still paranoia when you know they are following you.
That’s when they placed several hits on me,.
The first kid, maybe 20 years old, chased me to a Circle K from my apartment complex. I can’t tell you why I was fleeing and from who. But I can say my instincts took over and at this point I got in front of a camera where the Serbian kid approached me and said.
“You are not not going to live through the night”
Now I have two sets of memories of what led to that event too.
I analogize it all to a Hollywood post production edit. You know, once something’s been filmed, then CGI effects are added in and post processing occurs. That’s what much of this feels like, which has proven to be a bitch to sort out intellectually.
From there, I fled on the first flight I could find out of Charlotte – to Chicago. And from there, I – fearful for my life – not fully understanding what the dual sets of memories meant – slept in a closet in the airport hotel when they had gotten a bead on me there.
I did not sleep that night, out of fear, and took the first flight I could to Phoenix.
By then, all my personal assets had been seized.
About $3 million USD spread through two bank accounts, and three trade accounts, a Lexus RX450h, and two storage units full of personal belongings including some very valuable software and comic books.
That’s among the reasons I went to Costa Rica, I once owned a piece of property there. No longer.
The NSA then embarked on a credibility smearing campaign, doing their best to screw with my public image and credibility with friends, family, and more to diminish the impact of what I had to say about the NSA.
They never paid me a red cent for my intellectual property or contribution to their organization.
As technology is released publicly which corroborates everything I have claimed.
I’m flat broke.
Living in a tent in Studio City.
“Friends” have been ostracized and are unable to contact me, as we all know the NSA’s got it’s hands in all communications…
So I have do doubt I am no longer able to contact my “real” friends….
And I can’t get a lawyer to return a call for the life of me…
Let alone a film writer to consider writing about any of my experiences which I have been told by many is better material than most spy novels.
And it’s all a freakin true story…
I believe the NSA owes me $11 million + damages for the shit they put me through.
I do NOT care about criminal litigation. I have learned a great deal about life, the universe, and everything since all this began – which technically for me was not until 2011 and I have them and their reaction to me to thank for that education. Accordingly, I would prefer to keep this all in civil courts.
What would I do with $11 million + damages?
Sure. I might get some cocaine. Just for kicks. I might pay some mushroom farmers to create some magic mushrooms for me. Maybe even some bath salts. I might pay for sex with companions from all around the world, I would definitely offer Jackie and Rachel a couple million a piece to hang out with me for a couple years. I bore quickly of women, so that should be fair. I might buy a custom jet, from Boeing. I might build a movie studio and pay actors and actresses to make NC17 versions of Star Trek, and other whimsical science fiction and fantasy rather than this dull fare that’s been regurgitated on us. I would definitely build a real TARDIS and pay scientists inordinate amounts of money to make it work.
I’m going to do things I enjoy. And having been through the drug experiences before, this time keep them in check.
And while sure, I might even kick the bucket early from the lifestyle.
I’d at least have fun doing it. That’s what the meaning of life is to me, for now at least. Is to have fun.
And for the NSA. It can be a win/win situation. I’m not angry with them. I’m intrigued. And while I am not looking for ‘an eye for an eye’ justice for what they did to me, I am looking for getting ‘my stuff back’ + simply payment that’s owed + damages which would be payment for the psychological torment I went through as they experimented and acquired experience through the course of their interactions with me.
Heck, I would even become a customer of theirs if they played their cards right.
It’s like drugs were for me. I paid for my experiences and enjoyed it.
I’m not asking them to be apologetic.
I’m merely asking for their payment for the experiences they acquired through me.
Sounds more than fair to me.
After all, they are contractually obligated, whether I still have a copy of that original document or not.
Contracts by verbal agreement are still enforceable in a court of law in this country, the United States, the last I checked.
In any case, the technology for segmenting and deleting memories is not fool proof.
Maybe I am the fool that saying was invented after 😉
On a final note, someone I don’t know asked me randomly last week
“Would I work for the NSA again if they approached me.”
I answered with “I don’t know. Whatever they asked me to do would have to be good, that’s for sure.”
What does that look like?
Just call me Q.