Uzis, Armour-Plated Limos, Cults and Serial Killers

sacrifices to Saint Death in narco-satanico ritualistic killings

An interest in cults was growing wildly in S.E. Texas in the late 80s when I was at Charter in Sugarland. Some psychiatrists were on the fringe of treating cult victims that came our way. A Dr. Franke I remember was very well thought of and was somehow linked to this work in my mind. I'll do some research on him and get back with that.

I personally had a 'deprogrammed' woman from the "Moonies". She had been kidnapped by a deprogrammer and held in a hotel room for several days while being deprogrammed. Then she came to inpatient and was very fragile psychologically.

In 1989

There was interest from the Galveston Organized Crime unit in speaking to our hospital staff about the use of cult activity to recruit youngsters into the drug trade in south Texas, particularly Matamoros was in the news at that time. I recall that the drug traffickers were thought to recruit teens through the attraction of organized Satanism (that was the big catch-phrase for teens and the mystery and forbidden religion). The organization was extremely wealthy and dangerous (hence the title of this post), but research tells me that the leaders there did practice with belief in their practices.

This story broke in 1989 in Matamoros, Mexico just across from Brownsville, Tx

In 2012, Hermosilla, MX killings and Santo de Muerte in heavy drug trafficking area--similar to those in 1980s.

Also an organization called the CAN, cult awareness unit, gave a training in how we were to recognize cult members/victims. The Texas CAN gives their philosophy and news here.

They say

" Cults are the greatest enemy of youth since Communism. Cults are even more insidious because they attack our chilldren at a very basic level. They attack the hearts, minds and souls of good Christian youth all over the world. Here at the Texas Cult Awareness Network, we provide a real solution for parents whose children have been mentally kidnapped by a cult. Using proven techniques first developed by respected Asian military doctors and psychiatrists between 1950 & 1953, TCAN has saved thousands of innocent children from the insidious terrorist tactics of cults and returned them to good homes with healthy Christian values."

One of their alerts talks about the "most un-Christian of "holidays", Halloween"

TCAN's intervention procedures are outlined here

"Once TCAN discovers a victim of cult brainwashing, we take several proactive steps to insure that the individual is reintegrated into society in a timely manner:

The victim is discretely removed from the cult environment and temporarily relocated to one of TCANs numerous area "safe houses".
A team of our registered Emotional Restructuring Technicians isolate the newly liberated individual and keep them separated from all outside influences.
Our ERTs systematically remove all cult-induced thoughts, feelings, ideas and information from the victims' psyche.

This "bad data" is then replaced with TCAN-approved information. Thus returning the individual to a clean mindset filled with wholesome, Christian values, allowing them to become constructive members of society."

Nightmares

Secondary trauma is daily risk. Listening to the trauma narratives is interesting but takes its toll.  The secondary trauma layers on top my own primary and complicated issues of trauma that I have collected.  Here are some images and poetry I have made that deal with some of my own primary and secondary issues.

 

 

Her

some people just pass on
it doesn't matter
in what form they now appear--Marie Monroe

 

Waiting Next to Heaven

Marie Monroe

 

satan said he could have it all
but he was willing to wait on me 

he said he’s still interested with his lack of words. 

what a bunch of tangles i thought
worse than the knot at the base of my skull 

i tore too much hair trying to free it and so opted for braids 

in the room comes an ether i’ve not known. 

it flies in here with the abrupt shake of a dirty rug. 

where is the resolute demeanor
or the complication of candor? 

i am waiting on the last bus. 

i am hoping it is empty.

car doors
marie monroe

there are intimacies that can’t be spoken:
touches.
images tacked over a desk.
a stray monopoly piece, a red hotel.
hand holds from a vehicle like a drive-in fast food love.
a tiny teenage valentine: molded plastic caught in a forgotten web of my life’s string.
they come at you through the sacred heart or the solar plexus…wherever you need them.
each satisfies like the last one, but it is a hungry feast.
where hope comes from is far away.
where hope comes from is here.
some hope comes with vision, some with viscera, some with bounce.
the absolute best is not from courage.
courage lives in terror.
courage is only possibility.
this is the zone.
most brave soldiers are not warriors who walk this earth.
there is a walk that shows it.
muscle, bone, levitation.
this is the zone.
this is the warrior.
chat boxes spring up.
human languages form intelligibly as they speak.
they’ve never been spoken before.
typing is a wondrous affair.
for example, there is always fowl.
for example, circumambulation is love spinning out its lines of power,
the grids of this earth tightening.
we are safe from collapse.
we are calibrated.
we have points and between them…
there are geese.
always, for me, there are geese
flanking the wounded, waiting, waiting.
escorts.
smoke cigars in imagination.
hell, light one.
car doors will save you.
regressive speech and its sentiment will sustain.
some will fly again.
all of them.
all of them are precious.
these are the tender things.
how can you speak them?
you just dare.
 

 

Grief has been a lifelong struggle which began with a grief experience for someone who had not died and in fact, was present but not.  My earliest memory of this type of loss and grief is shortly after gaining consciousness in my father's arms.  It is my first memory and the moment at which I woke up to conscious awareness this life.  I looked around and identified myself--this is me--and my father--that is daddy.  He was carrying me down the staircase of the hotel he and my mother owned.  It was winter.  There was a Santa figurine on the desk in the hotel lobby.  I reached for it and the man sitting behind the desk handed it to me as a gift.

 

sexual violence

possession

psychosis

assault