Intro to Dennis Lee, Technology and Paradigm Liberator, Jailed by Energy Racketeers
Technological Repression and the Paradigm of Zero Point (Free) Energy:
"...the District Attorney himself came to the courtroom three times that day, and sat in the audience while Dennis affirmed his deal with the judge. The DA's presence was so startling that the courtroom's bailiff told Dennis, "I have been a bailiff here for eight years, and I had never seen the DA in person before today. Now he comes here three times today for your case. Who are you?" .... "Mr. Big Time Attorney, soon after he took Dennis' case, hearing the unbelievable situations surrounding it, asked his FBI friends to look into what the intelligence world had on Dennis. His friends came back with something like, "Wow! Not only is there massive information in the FBI's files on Dennis, but it went to the CIA and beyond." Putting 5000 people into a stadium to talk about free energy gets attention in high places."
This is an introduction to the writings of Wade Frazier ( http://www.ahealedplanet.net ) and the technological work of Dennis Lee and Better World Technologies. It is additionally an introduction to how much sustainability ideology, economics, and politics is falsely premised on assumptions of scarcity or energy running out. However, for zero point energy frameworks, free energy from everpresent vibrating particles on the quantum level, shows an abundance paradigm heavily repressed politically. It throws everything based on scarcity out the window. Dream up novel solutions. Read.
"The Boston Globe continually ran front-page coverage of the Seabrook Nuclear Plant protests. Demonstrators chained themselves to the reactor's front gates almost daily. At that time, we were holding "free energy" shows, telling our audience that the best way to eliminate nuclear energy was to make it obsolete...."
"In those Boston days, as Dennis first made his "free energy" noise, we received our first offer. A group of businessmen came to our company and met with us. They offered ten million dollars for the rights to our technologies. It would have made us rich, but that was not our program. Our program was bringing free energy to the world, not being bought out and the technology shelved. We could not say for certain that was their goal, but it smelled similar to the stories I had heard when I was younger.
"We did not accept their offer, but kept plugging away on a shoestring. We almost became involved with a household name marketing organization at about that time. They performed some shoddy investigation of our technology, tested a broken system, and decided against becoming involved with us. We were becoming desperate for money, but Dennis was relieved that we did not get involved, because it would mean losing his freedom.
"In Ventura, Dennis hit on a program that worked. We ran ads in newspapers, such as USA Today, modestly titled "Free Electricity!" and we sent out videotapes of our pitch, offering to sell educational materials to market, manufacture and install the heat pump, and told them we were working toward free energy. People began mailing us checks for thousands of dollars. About all I had seen with Dennis was disaster until September of 1987, but Dennis said he had found the new rocket ship.
"The program exploded. Money began pouring in from across the country. We were so buried in orders that we were more than a month behind in shipping them out. We went from a few volunteers to more than forty employees in about two months. The rocket was taking off. I did not see Dennis' glory days in Seattle, but I saw it in Ventura. It was like holding onto a rope tied to a rocket ship.
"After the raid, as we tried avoiding the next deathblow, it gave us more credibility, not less, with the public. Many people had some idea how the system worked, and being attacked told many that we were onto something.
"Our sales increased, and in May of 1988 Dennis received a second offer. That one was different. Dennis was invited to meet some bankers in Chicago. Dennis met a CIA man who represented "European" interests and said that they would write Dennis a check. They would "put a '1' on it" and Dennis could put on the zeroes. It is one thing to hear the stories from people who approach you; it is another level of understanding when it happens to you.
"Dennis' integrity had already been tested many times, although he never got a "name your price and we will pay it" offer before. Dennis made a counteroffer: he would to put the zeroes on the check, but the money would go right back into the European interests' pockets, and they would be forced to spend that money on bringing free energy to the world! The CIA man was stunned. He sat there, speechless. After he recovered from his shock, he regained his friendly demeanor but said he was not prepared to accept Dennis' offer. He met Dennis in California a few weeks later, but never again mentioned the offer.
"The next month, Dennis was arrested with a million-dollar bail. Dennis thinks that his arrest was their response to his offer. I would have been a millionaire many, many times over if Dennis had taken that deal, but dealing with the devil never works out too well. I could not have lived with myself if we had taken that quiet money. That was the exact opposite of what we were about. "
Peak Oil, New Energy and the End of Scarcity - Making New Energy Thinkable
Fossil Fuels, Economics and Peak Oil
Catton, Heinberg and Malthusian Philosophy
Can New Energy Help Topple the Scarcity Paradigm?
Making New Energy Thinkable
By Wade Frazier
The following essay is designed to give a broad overview of the issues. Far more detail is readily available at the links in the footnotes, or in the companion essay at this link. http://www.ahealedplanet.net/hooked.htm
SCARCITY OR ABUNDANCE
The end of oil as a primary source of energy (perhaps forty more years of remaining production [if you believe that lie, given the essays of David McGowan...]) to run the world's industries and provide us with the necessities of life is a foreseeable reality. The quest for new energy sources and applications should be the responsibility of corporations and governments everywhere on the planet. An examination of the problems and possibilities in the development of "new energy" and the benefits of its reality is a worthy and vital endeavor in answering the question "What do we do when the oil runs out?"
Historically, efforts by "new energy" pioneers have been met with "resistance" (to put it mildly) from global oligopolistic energy (mainly oil) interests. Furthermore, many new energy pioneers and alternative energy advocates have tended to focus narrowly on pet theories or projects to the exclusion of valid sources promoting a comprehensive and real solution to the energy problem. Indeed, these efforts have combined to make obvious truths, alternative viewpoints, and possible solutions unthinkable. The reality is that new energy exists, is unlimited, forever renewable, non-polluting and can free the world from a paradigm of scarcity and introduce it to one of abundance.
A FEW EXAMPLES OF NEW ENERGY ABUNDANCE APPLICATIONS
* Polluting energy could be replaced by clean energy for all of humanity's current applications of it, such as for providing transportation and running homes and businesses. In addition, new applications that are currently not pursued due to energy scarcity would become feasible, such as:
* Unlimited amounts of ocean water could be desalinated and pumped overland to provide for all of humanity's water needs and turn deserts into gardens, and have about zero impact on the oceans. All water can be purified before being sent back into the environment (or being infinitely recycled), for about zero environmental impact.
* Mining waste in the procurement of industrial minerals can be eliminated. Almost any patch of earth could be turned directly into glass, steel, and aluminum, with virtually no waste. Further, the mined elements could be infinitely recyclable, ultimately eliminating the need for future mining.
* New energy, combined with the efforts of synthetic sciences and infinite recycling of organic molecules (or synthesized) can eliminate the need for harvesting resources from the earth, such as wood and fiber.
* With new energy, indoor farms can be made that can have as much water, light, heat and nutrients that crops need to grow, 24/7, with no farmland pollution vented to the environment. Live food (the healthiest kind) would be available to all earthly humans, no matter where they live.
MAKING NEW ENERGY ABUNDANCE APPLICATIONS A REALITY
There are numerous problems to making new energy a reality, including organized suppression, but the issue seems to hinge on integrity, which is earth's scarcest and most precious commodity.
The hope for making new energy a daily reality may entail gathering people of high integrity, from all sectors, increasing their awareness of new energy viability and possibilities.
If enough of us just think about new energy and its implications, it might create sufficient awareness. Awareness can be the catalyst to action.
Hooked on Scarcity - Reactions to New Energy and other Observations
Richard Heinberg's Exclamation Points
Michael Ruppert's Alternative Energy Advice
Why all the Misinformation and Disinformation? - Are We Hooked on Scarcity?
Replacing Scarcity Consciousness with Abundance Consciousness
By Wade Frazier
This essay is intended as a companion essay to this one ( http://www.ahealedplanet.net/scarcity.htm ). This essay explores the issues in more depth. In early 2003 I became aware of Richard Heinberg's work and had a brief exchange with him after I read his magnum opus, The Party's Over: Oil, War and the Fate of Industrial Societies. His treatment of energy sources not currently recognized by mainstream science (also called new energy) seemed inadequate and misleading, and I tried educating him on the subject. My attempt was not successful. I was not planning to write publicly about Heinberg's treatment of new energy, but he has become a prominent voice in alternative energy circles since our brief exchange. Similar to how the New York Times is America's agenda setting media, Heinberg's work has come to dominate the mindset of many alternative energy advocates.
Humanity's long journey has always been primarily defined by its energy usage. Our immediate and long-term future is critically dependent on the energy situation, and facile dismissals of promising alternatives such as new energy require rebuttal. New energy can dwarf all other potential solutions, and even catalyze heaven on earth. Mainstream science, politics and media cannot be relied upon to investigate, much less promote, the paradigm shattering solutions that new energy promises. Institutional science has been controlled by vested economic interests in a well-known phenomenon of long standing, something that R. Buckminster Fuller remarked upon.
Thomas Kuhn was the first to use the term "paradigm" to describe how scientists see the universe. Kuhn wrote about "normal" and "revolutionary" science. Normal science is what 99.9% of all scientists do everyday, which is pursuing issues bounded by the paradigm they operate within. Kuhn compared such activity to puzzle solving. Paradigms are essentially worldviews that rest upon assumptions.
Kuhn described paradigm shifts in science, which he called "scientific revolutions," which were based on challenging the prevailing paradigm's assumptions. The most famous paradigm shift was Einstein's challenge of Newton's assumptions of absolute time and absolute space. Relativity theory will one day fall to another paradigm shift, and Einstein expected it, stating that, "every theory is killed by a fact."
Paradigm-shifting work can encounter fierce resistance from institutional science, with the scientific establishment pursuing its heretics with the zeal of medieval inquisitors. That inquisitorial behavior is an aspect of what is sometimes called close-minded science.
More than 99% of all scientists are presently incapable of the insights required to initiate paradigm shifts, because questioning our assumptions about reality is among humanity's most unusual behaviors.
Solitary scientists and inventors have initiated many if not most of the greatest innovations of science and technology, while the scientific establishment fought/ignored them the entire way, often stealing credit when the innovation became too prominent to be ignored, with the pioneer dying in obscurity (or worse). Fuller stated that only one in every 100,000 scientifically trained people would make the breakthroughs that will keep humanity advancing technologically, but that one would be sufficient.
Institutional science has usually done far more to hinder than assist radical scientific and technological breakthroughs.
Two examples are how scientists greeted the light bulb and the airplane.
Those are not irrelevant examples of a bygone era, but the resistance of institutional scientists to novel data and technological breakthroughs is arguably far more pronounced today than it was a century ago.
Today, microbiology students are taught a utilitarian fairy tale about how spontaneous generation theory was overturned during the 1800s, with the textbooks ignoring relatively recent work that demonstrates how flawed such a presentation is. Such misinformation is not benign, but probably marches students off in the wrong direction on their first day of class. Much of modern disease theory and treatment is based on that questionable foundation. A few days before I began writing this essay, mainstream science once again stumbled upon evidence that has long been suppressed. Will scientists begin seeing the forest that those trees may belong to?
A materialistic paradigm dominates the scientific establishment, which is ironic given that the giants of twentieth century physics were mostly, to one degree or another, mystics. All too often, scientists and philosophers equate materialism with rationalism, and even rationalism is overrated. Cool rationalism is considered the hallmark of science, but many of science and technology's greatest breakthroughs were initiated through intuitive flashes of insight. For instance, one of my mentors invented what was considered the world's best engine for powering an automobile. The engine's design appeared to him in an instant at a stoplight. The pillars of twentieth century physics, relativity and quantum theory, both came to their authors in flashes of insight.
Because of complacency, corruption and groupthink, institutional science is presently incapable of assessing the merits of new energy. The scientific establishment, in interlocking and subservient self-interest with the global corporate/energy interests, which also own America's politicians and mainstream media, is about the last place to look to for an honest and competent assessment of new energy's potential. The Massachusetts Institute of Technology ("MIT") fraudulently manipulated its data in order to dismiss cold fusion. MIT "coincidently" has been a major recipient of funding for hot fusion research. Arthur C. Clarke called the dismissal of cold fusion "perhaps one of the greatest scandals in the history of science." Most people think that cold fusion was disproven soon after it was announced, although it has been reproduced in hundreds of laboratories across the planet.
With the mainstream being a virtually worthless forum for exploring an issue that may dictate humanity's immediate future, "alternative" venues, particularly those existing on the Internet, assume potentially great significance.
Hitting Rock Bottom and Meeting Dennis Lee
For audits and tax preparation, CPA firms provide about zero public benefit, but take in about $20 billion per year in the U.S. If our government were honest, the Securities and Exchange Commission would have taken over the audit field long ago. CPA firms are so rich that they have their hooks quite deeply into the SEC. It is known in economics jargon as "capturing the regulator" which means that the government has been corrupted by the very industries it regulates, and no longer looks after the public interest. I finally realized that my profession was worthless.
The sixty and seventy hour weeks during the busy season of auditing took their toll. I began suffering from stress symptoms. There were many factors, but sixty-hour weeks, having to change my diet, attend endless phony social functions and having a hard time believing in what I was doing had a cumulative effect.
In early 1986, I was looking to get out of public accounting and find a job in Los Angeles in "industry." One day in February of 1986, I hit rock bottom. I was at the end of my rope, shaking from stress, with eyes that looked like a raccoon's, dreading the next day. For the second and so far last time in my life, I went to bed while sending out a desperate plea to the cosmos, asking for a clue. I had done my best, and felt backed into a corner with no way out. I even considered taking a clerical position, as long as it was close to home. What happened the next morning was not as dramatic as when the voice told me to study business, but during my first waking hour the voice snuck up on me, whispering, "Well, what do you have to lose? You can starve in Seattle as easily as you can starve here, and you would like it there better." It was like a brilliant day dawning after a long, black night. I was practically jumping up and down.
The manager I worked for on that S&L audit was helping me leave the company on my own terms. He put me on the payroll to stay at home and look for work as long as I needed to. I called him up that morning, which was a Tuesday, telling him that I was moving to Seattle. I arrived in Seattle the next Monday and moved in with my grandparents. I spent a day getting my résumé updated, and then began looking for work. On Thursday, I had a meeting with an executive search firm, which are called "headhunting" firms in the business. The recruiter told me that in a month or so I would easily find something to my liking.
I went home that afternoon, ready for the long haul of finding work. I was in my paradise, hiking in the Cascade Mountains every week. That voice was right: I would be far happier starving in Seattle than in Los Angeles. The next morning I was lying in bed at about 9 a.m., still asleep. The phone rang and I heard my grandmother's slow footsteps as she came to tell me that I had a phone call. It was the recruiter I had spoken to the previous afternoon. He asked me if I could be ready for an interview that afternoon with a "solar company." It felt as if a lightning bolt hit me. It turned out to be the company owned by Dennis Lee.
When I found out what they were doing, I bowled over the controller who interviewed me. There were no other contenders for the job after I was finished. A week later I interviewed with Dennis and was hired on the spot, to begin work the next day.
When I met him, Dennis was marketing a heat pump that he had sold for several years. A serendipitous cowboy invented a "solar heat pump" in 1974 during the first energy crisis. Standard heat pumps today get what is known as a Coefficient of Performance (COP) of between two and three. In 1986, they averaged about a two. That meant that for every unit of electricity used to run a heat pump, two units of heat would be delivered into a home. The heat pump Dennis sold got a COP as high as twelve, and had done as high as a COP of five in Minnesota in January. It was two-to-three times as efficient as standard heat pumps. Dennis had been selling them on the East Coast for years, where customers would switch from oil or gas heating to his heat pump, and they would save seventy percent in operating costs versus heating with fossil fuels. It is still the best heating system the world market has ever seen.
Dennis had a marketing plan was sheer genius. For $4000 dollars he could fund the cost of marketing, manufacturing and installing his heat pump. He would sell the heat pump for $10,000, the customer would make a $4000 down payment that the federal government would refund to the customer, and the $6000 dollar balance would be paid by the customer over several years, based on proven savings. The customers risked none of their own money. Virtually everybody who ever heard of the deal went for it. What did they have to lose? For years, Dennis could not get any financiers to back his plan. Financiers, rich men and entrepreneurs got involved, but nobody ever saw the genius of Dennis' plan. Their attitude was almost universally, "This is a great piece of equipment, the price is $10,000 cash." They never realized that a customer would not part with $10,000 for a piece of equipment they were not sure worked. Dennis removed the customer's risk, but the money would not be completely collected for several years. Businessmen rarely think that far ahead, not when they smell the quick kill. When Dennis had his companies stolen time after time, the people who stole them thought the gold was the system, and promptly discarded Dennis' "crazy" marketing plans. They promptly all went out of business.
The Discover Card is a watered down version of a card Dennis invented years before he got into the energy business. As a marketer and entrepreneur, Dennis is an Einstein. I saw his genius immediately. Because of my mentor when I was young, I became a student of genius, and knew what it looked like. Genius is simple, and turns ideas upside down or inside out, looking at the problem without the presumptions that blind most people. Dennis definitely had that knack.
Soon before the Mafia and his business associates stole his company for the last time on the East Coast, that time even stealing his personal possessions, leaving him and his family with only the clothes on their backs, Dennis was on the brink of having a household name corporation put up $1 billion to carpet America with his heat pumps. The chairman of the board saw Dennis' genius. Finally, Dennis stood in front of somebody who understood. Just as they were getting to the deal's short strokes, his greedy business associates collapsed his company while stealing hundreds of thousand dollars from him. Soon after that, the Mafia stole what was left, and Dennis had to start again from scratch.
After a several month relationship with a rich business associate in Yakima who also did not understand, one day Dennis had enough. Mr. Rich was telling people that he did not need Dennis anymore. Dennis bid Mr. Rich goodbye, packed his family into a beat-up station wagon, and drove over the mountains to Seattle with twenty dollars in his wallet and no place to sleep. That was in October of 1984, and Dennis sold 1000 systems in a few months, and tried carpeting Puget Sound with them.
Dennis figured the job would only get done by doing it himself. His Seattle strategy was selling thousands of systems before he had financing, and maybe tens of millions of dollars of sales would finally get a financier's attention. In the meantime, he was trying to attract the electric companies' interest. He thought he would be their hero, bringing the energy conservation that their ads said they desperately needed. They rebuffed him at every opportunity. He was surprised, but would not let that stop him, and sold systems as fast as he could. The Renewable Energy Tax Credit expired in 1985, and no system installed after December 31, 1985 would qualify for the credit.
Although Dennis did not figure out who was behind the vendetta for a long time, the electric companies pulled the strings and wiped out his company, and a corporate hit man was responsible for the death of one of Dennis' employees.
The most complete rendition of Dennis' Seattle experiences is in My Quest, written from his jail cell in 1988-1989. By the end of 1985, Dennis' company had endured media smears, a fraudulent consumer protection lawsuit filed by the Attorney General's office, numerous break-ins and sabotages of their facility, bomb threats, theft of their phone equipment, attempted theft of all their records, surprise visits by the fire department and OSHA, a threatened investigation by the IRS, pressure being put on his financier, his suppliers, his customers, and his employees by various parties, such as the corporate hit man, the Attorney General's office and the courts. A fraudulent bankruptcy suit filed by the hit man and a few gullible employees he manipulated into filing with him capped off the circus. The Attorney General's office was involved with the hit man. They possessed documents he stole from the company, which they produced when Dennis threatened an FBI probe of their files. The media splashed the company in the newspaper and the evening news, which scared away customers and employees, and shook up others, such as the financier. The electric companies were mobilizing all their forces to wipe out the threat of a superior technology.
When I joined the company in March of 1986, it was in its death throes. In June 1986 I witnessed the theft of Dennis' company, and my boss, the controller, engineered it, while the employees cheered. The financier had his company stolen two weeks before Dennis' in a move that the financier believes was part of a conspiracy. I lost plenty of innocence back then. I received one paycheck before the company stopped making payroll. I was so on fire that I worked three months for free until the company was stolen. I was reverberating from the lightning bolt that hit me in March. Dozens of employees were hanging around the office, seemingly loyal to the cause. I felt a comradeship that I had never had before. I felt surrounded by people who were committed to making the world a better place, and saw Dennis' vision. When I saw that their loyalty was to their paycheck, I had a valuable learning experience, although not a fun one.
Dennis was essentially run out of Washington. A member of the Washington version of the SEC attended the shareholders' meeting where Dennis' company was stolen, where those "loyal" employees showed their true colors. The representative calmly watched it happen, subpoenaing Dennis immediately before the company was stolen, seemingly trying to find him at fault for having his company stolen.
Chasing My Dream
After seeing the outrageous and criminal acts engaged in by the authorities and others, Dennis felt their next move would be for the police to "find" a barrel of heroin in his closet. He left the state in June, moving to Chicago and soon to Boston, trying to rebuild the venture. Although all I had seen was bloody ruin, my spiritual training came in handy. I could spot a great soul. I saw who Dennis was, and was sold on him. Of the hundreds of employees Dennis had in Seattle, I was the only one who followed him to Boston. Months of working without pay had reduced me to moving back in with my grandparents, working as a temporary employee, and saving a few hundred dollars so I had gas money to drive to Boston. After years of trying to live in Seattle, I was leaving it to chase a crazy dream. It was one of the hardest things ever did. In November of 1986, with tears in my eyes, leaving behind a girlfriend who soon ended the relationship, I drove out to Boston.
I went to Boston with nothing more than the promise from Dennis that he had a floor I could sleep on. The day after I got there, Dennis and I met with a company that had developed a turbine that ran off a 200° F heat source. Dennis got the idea of hooking up his heat pump to that turbine and make "free electricity." It was a naïve idea at first, and the Second Law of Thermodynamics said it could not be done. I became far more involved than I thought I would. I raised money to get us going again, a couple months after I got there, and I brought in my old mentor to take a look at what we were doing. He thought we had a chance, and even gave his world's best engine to Dennis, to try marrying with his heat pump panels to try making free energy, which my mentor thought was possible.
In Boston, in early 1987, Michael Dukakis was readying his run for the presidency, and one of the state's big political issues was the Seabrook nuclear power plant. Seabrook was in New Hampshire, next to Massachusetts. Dukakis was getting political mileage out of opposing the reactor, and if Massachusetts did not approve the evacuation plan for Seabrook, they could prevent it from going online. We had unwittingly landed in the middle of a huge energy controversy.
I first became aware of "Astroturf" organizations in Boston. An Astroturf organization is a fake grassroots organization, bankrolled by corporate America or other powerful interests, but camouflaged to appear as private citizens merely agitating for their own cause. The first Astroturf organization I encountered (at least that I knew was one) was called the Coalition for Reliable Energy. While we presented our first "Greatest Energy Shows on Earth," the Coalition for Reliable Energy began a media blitz on Boston television and newspapers. The Coalition presented itself as an amalgamation of grandmothers and concerned citizens, making sure that New England had reliable energy and that all energy sources were considered. At the end of their first TV ad, a grandmotherly figure mumbled, "and nuclear energy options." That happened in January and February of 1987.
In a rare instance of mainstream investigative journalism, just as the Coalition's ad blitz was firing up, the Boston Globe revealed that 95 percent of the Coalition's funding came from the Seabrook Association, which consisted of the electric companies that invested in the Seabrook nuclear power plant. The Astroturf organization was unmasked.
Probably, not many people took their ads seriously after that revelation, but the ad blitz kept coming all spring. By the time we left Boston in June 1987, the ads became brazen. They featured a thirty-something professional man telling the viewer, "You will have to pay for the Seabrook nuclear power plant whether you use it not, so why not use it?" It was perhaps the most flagrant exercise of corporate propaganda I have ever seen.
The Boston Globe continually ran front-page coverage of the Seabrook protests. Demonstrators chained themselves to the reactor's front gates almost daily. At that time, we were holding "free energy" shows, telling our audience that the best way to eliminate nuclear energy was to make it obsolete. We met with a local protest group that staged many of the protests. We presented them a plan for the electric companies to pursue free energy technology and end the nuclear insanity. Later, one of the group's high-ranking members told Dennis that their real motivation was not opposing nuclear energy, per se. The person bankrolling them owned land that could be sold at a high price for a hydroelectric project. They were proposing a hydroelectric solution, and their sponsor would get rich in the process. That was disillusioning. It appeared to be another Astroturf organization, although most of its members likely did not realize it.
At a show we had a quarter mile from Seabrook's front gates, Dennis announced his intention to buy the reactor. He proposed to use the containment vessel as a heat storage facility, using free energy machines to supply the electricity. The mouse roared. Before the electric companies in Washington wiped his company out, Dennis' stock in his company was worth $48 million. He barely escaped the state with the clothes on his back.
Dennis made a multibillion-dollar offer to buy the nuclear reactor, but to never put nuclear fuel in it. At the show, attended by about 200 people, Dennis announced his offer to the Seabrook Association. The next day he mailed his proposal. The Seabrook Association chairman of the board called our hole-in-the-wall office the next day, within minutes of receiving the package. He said he could come immediately to our office to discuss our proposal. That was a much different reception than Dennis received in Seattle.
Publicly, the Washington electric companies said they knew little about Dennis except that he was crooked and his technology was a scam. Soon after we arrived in Boston, a banker we encountered called the BPA to check out Dennis' story. He called the BPA switchboard, asking if anyone could tell him about Dennis Lee, which was a strange way of approaching a huge bureaucracy such as the BPA. The next day he received a call from the BPA's conservation department. The banker told us that the BPA man was extremely cautious, but admitted that, "For three months, all our entire department thought about was Dennis Lee." That was the same organization that hired the hit man, the same organization that publicly said "Dennis who?"
The Seabrook chairman invited Dennis to his office to discuss the proposal. The next week Dennis and his engineer (Mr. Engineer) went to the Seabrook Association's palatial offices, and were given the red carpet treatment. The chairman and his pals talked about working with Dennis and his free energy ideas, thinking they might work. Dennis said it was almost amusing to watch them in action. Those were not nice guys, but acted as if Dennis was a long lost son. Dennis could see their masks slip at times, and it was evident that they were playacting.
Later, when Dennis composed a press release of his offer for the chairman's approval, the chairman began backpedaling, and it became obvious that placating him was their goal all along. In Boston and California, we had friends on the inside, high in the electric company hierarchies, who told us things. We heard that New England's electric companies convened secretly to decide what response to give to a wild man selling free electricity machines. Instead of the snuff job Dennis got in Seattle for merely selling a heat pump, at the secret meetings the consensus was they might have to cooperate with us.
As far as I know, the Boston Globe has never mentioned Dennis. To add a weird touch to those days, electric company representatives attended our Greatest Energy Shows, something they admitted when Dennis met with them. Right after one show, in the Boston Globe's weekly science section they interviewed a scientist who thought we could mine moon dust, extracting an isotope of helium from it, thereby solving our energy problems. It was as though they knew exactly what they were doing, and rubbed our faces in it. They ran front-page news of protests at Seabrook, while ignoring our show at the Seabrook gates. While we received the red carpet treatment from the Seabrook chairman, and while New England's electric companies held secret meetings about us, the Boston Globe ran an article about mining the moon to solve our energy problems.
I lost more naïveté in Boston by witnessing a media blackout on us, seeing Orwellian ads from the Astroturf Coalition for Reliable Energy, reading moon dust articles and other oddities. The electric gangsters in Washington had not forgotten about Dennis. The Attorney General's hatchet lady, who repeatedly lied and bloodied her hands while trying to destroy Dennis' company, quit her job soon after her final confrontation with him. She came to his office one day on a document-hunting expedition, but Dennis had her meet his employees, who grilled her for two hours about her underhanded actions toward the company. Much later, Dennis found himself sitting next to her on an airplane flight. He asked her how she slept at night, and she gave the Nuremberg defense, that she was only following orders. Then she said, "But you will notice that I do not work for them anymore." Her hands got too bloody, her conscience finally woke up, and she quit the Attorney General's office.
The Attorney General's office had a pinch hitter that sicced the authorities on Dennis everywhere he went after they ran him out of Washington. Ms. Pinch Hitter contacted the authorities immediately after Dennis arrived in Boston, and she duly warned a Middlesex County District Attorney Investigator that the criminal of the century was in his backyard. The investigator swaggered into Dennis' office a few days later, telling Dennis he looked forward to throwing him into jail, and other officious threats. In Ventura, a telling document surfaced regarding the attacks on Dennis. That Middlesex investigator wrote to the sheriff's deputy who finally threw Dennis in jail on fabricated charges. The investigator wrote:
"Mr. Lee was attempting to duplicate his Washington operation in our state. We were attempting to proceed criminally against Mr. Lee but, without clear cut violations of our law, could only proceed in the manner in which we did. I don't believe our AG completed their investigation before Mr. Lee left our state."
In other words, the investigator tried jailing Dennis based on the word of Ms. Pinch Hitter, but failed to find a law that Dennis broke. Given enough time, they would have found something, but we left the state before they could attack. They could not find a violation in California either, but that did not prevent them from making it up. The Secretary of State's office was sharpening its axe as we were leaving Boston, trying to snare us in a securities law violation. They started a fishing expedition just before we left. The red carpet was going to turn redder with our blood if we stayed in Boston much longer.
Mr. Professor and Ventura
In the meantime, I sent a Christmas card to the professor who inspired me to become an accountant. Mr. Professor was the best teacher I ever had. We kept in touch over the years, and I told him what his crazy student was doing in Boston. Over the years, Dennis' organizations have interfaced with tens of thousands of people. Dennis has had plenty of public exposure over the years, on TV and hundreds of radio talk shows. Millions of people have heard of Dennis in America. Mr. Professor's response to me was the rare time that somebody became excited about our project because of its potential benefit to humanity. Talk is cheap. Before it was over, Mr. Professor showed what he was made of. He displayed a level of integrity I have only seen in a few people.
Mr. Professor wanted to help bankroll the venture. I had tied into technical talent in California, and Mr. Professor was putting up more money. We moved to Ventura (where I was raised) in the summer of 1987. I would not have believed it at the time, but our experiences before Ventura were the easy days. In the fall of 1987, my mentor came forward with his hydraulic heat engine, and we started flying high. We were soon approaching gross revenues of a million dollars a month, selling informational kits on how to make, sell and install the heat pump.
On New Year's Day of 1988, we became involved with Victor Fischer, who had also invented a hydraulic heat engine and built some prototypes in Australia, prototypes coming closer to the Carnot ideal than any engine ever developed. On January 12, 1988, Dennis publicly announced that the technology was in hand that could make free energy a possibility. In the crowd was a deputy sheriff investigator, whom I will call Mr. Deputy. He talked to one of our administrative people a few weeks earlier. The Better Business Bureau was forwarding requests on us to Mr. Deputy, and our employee called him, asking what was happening. Our employee used to be a sheriff's deputy himself, and knew that if our company was doing something wrong, the investigator was legally obligated to tell us when we asked him. Mr. Deputy replied that all was fine and that he would stop investigating us.
Mr. Deputy was in the audience on January 12th, and the next day he was readying a search warrant for a raid on our facility. On January 14th at about 10:00 a.m. I stood in our company's parking lot and watched ten cars speed into our driveway in a cloud of dust. Mr. Deputy, leaping out of the lead car, asked me if the building behind me was ours. The raid was on. Not only was Mr. Deputy guilty of entrapment, telling us three weeks earlier that we were not breaking any laws, but the raid was the first time I experienced felonious acts engaged in by law enforcement personnel.
The raid had a few purposes, as we discovered later. The first was the felony act: the raid was an espionage exercise. Thirteen armed deputies raided our facility, rampaging through our building and herding everybody into our conference room. We were photographed and had to produce identification before we could leave the building. All employees were arrested. Then they kicked everybody out of our building and occupied it for hours.
That building was where our technical material was. Our chief researcher's office (whom I will call Mr. Researcher) was located next to our machine shop and research area. In his office were technical details regarding the free energy prototypes we were developing (including Fischer's, and technical material on inventions other inventors had sent us), and Mr. Researcher's personal papers. The research facility had mirrored windows so people could not see into the building during daylight. Mr. Researcher and the machinist went behind the building where the mirrored windows were, after being kicked out of it. While standing behind the building, they suddenly saw into the building because it was momentarily brighter inside the building than outside. Why was it brighter inside the building? It was due to the repeated flash of a camera. When the camera flashed, they could see inside the building. The door to Mr. Researcher's office was open to the machine shop, and with each flash, they could see where it came from. The sheriff's deputies were in Mr. Researcher's office, rolling out the blueprints on his desk and photographing them. It was an outright espionage expedition.
About an hour later, hours before their official search began, they were seen taking boxes out of the building, loading them into a car and driving off. In those boxes were all the papers in Mr. Researcher's office. After they stole the technical data they suddenly became cooperative, and eventually allowed me to accompany them on their official search, while they sought the evidence that their warrant authorized them to seize. In their official search, they pointedly ignored Mr. Researcher's office. It was the last place they officially searched, and the receipt they left stated they removed only one piece of paper from his office: a parts list for the heat pump. The raid lasted from 10:00 a.m. to after midnight. The next morning, when Mr. Researcher got back into his office at 6:00 a.m., the wreckage in his office told a different story. His office had been cleaned out. They took every scrap of important paper that they could. The blueprints were too big to sneak out in the boxes, so they photographed them. Everything else important was taken, and there sat a receipt, saying they took only one piece of paper. That kind of outright, naked crime, committed by police officers, not only shocked me, but for the first time in my life I seriously harbored violent thoughts. Mr. Researcher was white in the face for weeks, and I thought he was going to keel over. He quit the company a few weeks after the raid, not able to handle how he had been raped. That was only the raid's first goal.
The second goal was putting us out of business by seizing all our records. I was the controller, and they cleaned out my office to the walls. During the raid, as I was escorting Mr. Deputy around the office, I told him they could have whatever records they needed. I did not yet know what they had done to Mr. Researcher's office. Mr. Deputy said I could have copies of anything I needed to continue running the business. He tried convincing me that Dennis was a crook because of what happened in Seattle. When I told him that I was with Dennis in Seattle and knew what happened, he stopped that angle. I was relieved of my duties after several hours of escorting the deputies through our buildings. The next morning, I found that they had taken every scrap of documentation we had, and Mr. Deputy reneged on his promise of letting me have copies of our records. When he told me he was going back on his word, he had the audacity to tell me we were lucky they did not also take our computers. We did not even know who all our customers were after receiving their lobotomy. That alone nearly put us out of business. It was a carefully aimed deathblow.
The third goal was the legal one: gathering evidence for the "crime" that we committed. What was the crime? During the raid, I asked Mr. Deputy what we did to warrant thirteen armed deputies storming our building. He said we may have violated an obscure franchise law that nobody had heard of. Not one California lawyer in a hundred had ever heard of California Civil Code 1812.200, the Seller Assisted Marketing Plan Act (SAMP). It was known as a "worm farm" law, due to the short-lived worm farm businesses in the 1970s, where people put their life's savings into questionable business opportunities. The law was designed to regulate the sales of business opportunities. It was a law that required a business to register with the Secretary of State's office. To comply with the law, a business filed a one-page form with the Secretary of State's office. The form provided cursory information about the business, and the filing was accompanied by a fifty dollar filing fee.
There had been one prosecution in California's history under that law. It is what Dennis called a "Red Tie on a Tuesday" law. It was a law that nobody knew of, but through corrupt law enforcement it became a crime to do what everybody else did, such as wearing a red tie on a Tuesday. Of the million men who wore a red tie on Tuesday, you were the only one thrown in jail for it. Before Dennis' case was over, he got an affidavit from the lawyer who wrote the SAMP law. In a conversation with our attorney, the lawyer estimated that up to 100,000 California businesses could qualify under the law for its filing requirements. According to his affidavit, only 250 companies had ever made the filing, for a compliance rate of 0.25%. Dennis was the second person ever prosecuted under those laws; the other was for a man selling Little League franchises, and his conviction was overturned on appeal. Dennis is likely the only person who will ever do prison time for "violating" that civil law.
We sued for civil rights violations and the theft of our technical material in the raid. We made noise. Thousands of people called the sheriff's department to protest. The next several months were nightmarish for me. Working with no records was a small fraction of what I suffered through during those days. The stress symptoms I suffered in Los Angeles came back soon after I raised the money in Boston, and friends began attacking me. I had to come to terms with possibly being murdered for my efforts, and I worked seventy-hour weeks. After the raid, my stress symptoms blossomed. I had to work sixteen-hour days just to survive.
What happened in Ventura caused a number of close family members to refuse to speak to me for several years. Mr. Professor, Dennis and his wife and I felt nearly alone in a world of insanity and darkness. By May 1988 I was becoming useless at work, just sitting there, quivering. I asked Dennis if I could take the summer off, not knowing if my body, mind and emotions could withstand such a situation again. He had a good idea of what I was going through. I was involved with my future wife by that time, and those events put our relationship through severe stresses.
In May, the same month I left the company, Dennis received an offer. It was not the first time he received an offer like that, and this tale will digress a little, with the kinds of offers that Dennis and others like him get.
Make Them an Offer They Can't Refuse
What the Attorney General's office did in Washington can easily be called a conspiracy. How much cooperation was going on between the electric companies, the Attorney General's office, the media, the federal bankruptcy courts and others? The local police refused to arrest or even investigate the BPA hit man, even after his actions caused one woman's death, when his accomplices in our company confessed to espionage on his behalf, and when documents he stole were later found in the Attorney General's investigative files on Dennis. The Attorney General's office hurriedly returned them to Dennis when he threatened them with an FBI probe. What exactly happened can be difficult to figure out. When bullets fly at you from every direction, it is legitimate to wonder if somebody is orchestrating the salvos.
When the Middlesex County investigator in Massachusetts admitted that he was investigating Dennis because the Attorney General's office in Washington contacted him, it made me wonder. It is possible that the attacks on Dennis were not coordinated, since capitalistic gangsters are the same everywhere.
I felt that the Attorney General's office contacting Middlesex County and siccing them on Dennis was not necessarily conspiratorial on the part of Middlesex County. I now know that low intelligence combined with zero integrity and vindictiveness is not that unusual in law enforcement. On the Attorney General's side, however, it was definitely conspiratorial. That does not mean that everybody was in on it, but there were people in Washington who knew exactly what they were doing, and sent their soldiers marching after Dennis. The BPA hit man knew exactly what he was doing and why. He was in on it. There is no conceivable explanation for his behavior other than him being a corporate hit man. Whoever hired him knew exactly what they were doing. However far that might venture into a worldwide conspiracy is debatable, but the hit man changing costumes and becoming a "noted Tesla researcher" after he helped wipe out Dennis' efforts in Washington seemed part of a more comprehensive effort. The barrage of attacks by the Attorney General's office after Dennis left the state also has the whiff of a broader conspiracy.
It is possible, however, that it was merely a mean-spirited vendetta by the Attorney General (AG) to inflict vengeance on somebody who stood up to his attacks. Dennis made the AG suffer. When the AG's office attacked the company with their phony lawsuit and media blitz, Dennis responded. He bought a full-page ad in The Seattle Times that ran on October 18, 1985. It enraged the public about the AG's actions. The AG's office was inundated with public protest. Dennis later heard what the AG's reaction was while he read Dennis' full-page ad. The man was livid.
Years later, Dennis heard that he became famous by standing up to the AG. It apparently was one of the two worst publicity black eyes the AG ever endured while trying to crush somebody. The other black eye came from wiping out an activist who tried ending the homeless problem with affordable housing solutions. The activist fought back, and his campaign aired the AG's dirty laundry while he was running for governor in 1992, and may have been a key reason he barely lost. The woman who "pinch hit" for the hatchet lady who quit the AG's office was a prominent member of the AG's staff. When the AG ran for governor, the pinch hitter quit her AG position and joined his campaign. Perhaps siccing the authorities on Dennis everywhere he went was just vengeance by the AG, and his close relationship to the pinch hitter gives evidence of the AG's personal interest in making Dennis' life miserable.
I have seen no evidence that the Massachusetts Secretary of State's investigation into our money-raising efforts in Massachusetts had anything to do with Washington. I have heard nothing about why they did it, but it was obviously instigated by somebody up high, because we were not doing anything that should have attracted their attention. It appeared to be a fishing expedition for something they could hang us on. I suspect that the electric interests in New England instigated it.
Somebody also instigated what happened in California. Mr. Deputy's investigative report regarding what got him involved with investigating Dennis is amazing reading. According to Mr. Deputy, he was minding his own business when a man contacted him who attended Dennis' Saturday show at our facility, where Dennis pitched the technology. According to Mr. Deputy, the man "said that he was bedazzled by the caffeine in the coffee, the sugar in the donuts and the speaker's presentation and really wasn't sure what you get for the money." The man did not buy anything. He was not a complaining victim. That supposedly got Mr. Deputy hot on his career-making case. We were drugging our marks with coffee and donuts, and Dennis closed the deal on our bedazzled victims.
Mr. Professor knew somebody high-ranking at the local electric company. During the summer of 1987, the electric company knew very well about Dennis and what we were doing. Mr. Professor asked his friend what they planned to do about Dennis, and the man replied that the electric company had not yet decided. It looks as if Mr. Deputy's "investigation" in the fall of 1987 was related to the decision they finally made. We heard from other sources that the chairman of the board ordered the hit on us. Maybe it was not the chairman. I will never believe that when the deputies ransacked Mr. Researcher's office during the raid, stealing the technical material, that they did it for their own edification, to peruse at their leisure while watching Sunday football games on TV.
How far that bona fide conspiracy went, I cannot say. Not all the deputies at the raid knew what really happened. One was a former student of Mr. Professor, and had no idea what really happened that day. As Smedley Butler said, soldiers blindly following orders can serve evil as easily as "good." I doubt the thieving deputies knew who they stole the technical material for, or even cared. When studying covert actions by folks at the CIA, NSA etc., it becomes obvious that few see the big picture, except those at the top. Those in the chain of command work on a need-to-know basis, with strict compartmentalization, secrecy and the rest. Later events later made the picture clearer for me.
Conspiracies do not explain everything that happens, or even all that much of the suppression dynamic. That is too simple-minded, but I believe that the attacks on Dennis were not all isolated and unrelated instances of local energy companies protecting their revenue base. There is substantial evidence that supports arguments for an energy industry "immune system." The dynamics I have seen in energy I have also seen in medicine, particularly in the cancer racket. The more wealth and power vested in any particular industry or profession, the more ruthlessly it protects itself. Every industry and profession has an infrastructure designed to protect itself from competition. How far they take their defensive strategies, and how far they can take them, is dependent on how powerful that industry or profession is. The more concentrated that wealth or power, the more likely one will see conscious and ruthless activities designed to keep the competition at bay.
There is perhaps no more powerful industry than the energy industry. People can say that the military is more powerful, but it is obvious that the military is not running the show, but is the muscle used to keep the rackets flowing smoothly, and it is one of the biggest rackets itself. As Smedley Butler said, those order-following soldiers have little idea whose interests they really serve, which is part of the racket's design.
The geopolitical devastation the energy industry has inflicted on the planet is not pretty. In Nigeria, Indonesia, Saudi Arabia and other places, the ruling elite has a sinister relationship with the oil companies, and their domestic populations are repressed. Those situations make for unpleasant realizations regarding the connection between the oil those nations have, their repressive governments, the Western oil companies and the governments of Western nations.
If Americans think I am unfairly picking on America, part of the reason is that Americans can do something about America's behavior, and they are my target audience. Pointing out the flaws in the Soviet Communist system, and there were many, can be a rewarding exercise, but that does not excuse our murderous international behavior. As Noam Chomsky has said, we are responsible for the predictable consequences of our actions, not the actions of somebody in China, for instance.
Here is an example of blood on the West's hands that is not all America's. In 1995, Nigeria's government executed Nobel Prize literature nominee Ken Saro-Wiwa and several others. Their ostensible crime was their activism for human rights and resisting the corporate practices of Shell-BP, whose operations are devastating the Nigerian environment, particularly the land of the Ogoni tribe, of which Saro-Wiwa was a member. In the case of Nigeria, Great Britain is the chief culprit, arming the dictatorship in neocolonial-style while the oil flows unabated from the region. Saro-Wiwa's execution, along with several other activists, was one of the greatest human rights outrages of the 1990s. The United States, Britain and other nations, such as South Africa, stood by and watched it happen. The tragedy continues. Nigerian literature Nobel laureate Wole Soyinka lived in exile with a price on his head for years. Genocide and devastation is OK as long as the oil keeps flowing. The American-sponsored genocide in East Timor was another instance of securing more cheap oil for the West.
Oil is not the only big prize, whereby the masses suffer greatly to keep the cheap energy coming. Coal is another, and Native Americans have suffered because uranium was discovered on their "worthless" reservation lands in the 20th century.
With that teenage dream of revolutionizing the energy industry, I also realized that our energy production methods devastate the environment, are not sustainable, and harm many people. I also saw that our dependence on fossil fuels, particularly those Middle East "reserves," might lead to World War III someday. That was another monkey on my back. Free energy might just help save humanity from self-destruction. Brian O'Leary feels the same way, as do many others. The U.S.-caused holocaust in Iraq and today's fraudulent "War on Terror" is something that I have tried preventing for my entire adult life. For all the value of uranium, wood, hydroelectric energy and coal, oil has always been the greatest prize, and the industry wields tremendous international power.
In Boston, I began new levels of education. Just before Dennis made his public offer to buy out Seabrook, one of our merchants lined up an interview on a New Hampshire radio station. Dennis and I drove to the station for the interview. It was being taped for later airing. As we arrived, the receptionist told us to wait a minute, as our interviewer was "talking to a Senator." I thought nothing of it, and we waited for a minute. Then the man came out, welcomed us, and we entered his studio for the interview. It was a typical interview, with questions such as "So, Mr. Lee, you say you have a heat pump that gets high efficiencies, and you say you can generate free electricity with it. Wow!" It was a "gee whiz" interview. After he finished taping the interview, he turned off his professional reel-to-reel tape recorder. He was affable, with his leading man voice. He then said, "Off the record, Mr. Lee, what is going on here? Do you think you can really make free electricity? Are you trying to challenge them? Let's have a friendly chat. I want to know more." Just as he was saying that, he turned on a small desktop tape recorder. For the next half-hour, Dennis talked about how he was not threatening the electric companies, but wanted to work with them to end pollution and bring renewable energy to the world.
After our chat, we walked to my car. As we pulled away, Dennis said, "Did you see him turn on that small tape recorder after taping the show? That was the real interview. That tape is going to the Big Boys. They will never air our original interview." I looked at Dennis in shock and disbelief. "What?!" I stammered. Immediately, the wheels in my head were spinning a million miles an hour, trying to make sense of what he said. Dennis would later write that I looked at him as if he was crazy. Maybe it looked that way to him, but it was more like being told something shocking, not knowing what to make of it. As I sat there, driving the car in puzzlement, Dennis sighed and said, "This is going to be a long haul. Let me tell you some of what is happening."
Dennis told me what he thought was happening behind the scenes. It was during those days that I faced the possibility of being murdered for pursuing free energy. I decided that if it came to that, it did. Nobody lives forever, and I could think of nothing more worthwhile to pursue. If the energy gangsters murdered me, well, it happened. It is one thing to face such a situation in one's mind. It is another reality entirely to face it in real life.
Dennis thought the informal interview was the real one, and that the energy boys wanted to know what his attitude really was. They wondered if Dennis was a belligerent revolutionary or if they could work with him. It was the next week, I believe, when Dennis received the call from the Seabrook chairman. Our radio interview never aired. I bet the chairman himself heard that "informal" interview. It appears that Dennis was right.
Brian O'Leary is an ex-Astronaut, ex-colleague of Carl Sagan, the first human slated to visit another planet (Mars), and a free energy visionary. O'Leary's Miracle in the Void contains one of the best, most succinct summaries of free energy's suppression. Brian wrote of his encounter at a free energy symposium bankrolled by a multi-hundred-millionaire. Brian attended the symposium at the rich man's behest and subsidy, and heard the rich man's marketing gurus tell why he was not committing significant funding to developing free energy:
"He explained to us that the situation was similar to that of a river. For optimal profits we want to catch the river where and when it flows fastest. Until then it would be foolish to put up much money now. Why spend millions of dollars now, with uncertain results, if we could hold back those millions until such time is truly ready to enter the marketplace and can outcompete the others?"
Brian described his anger and awe. While humanity may be on the brink of self-annihilation, the rich man would wait on the sidelines as a vulture would, seizing the best opportunity to make a killing in free energy.
In those Boston days, as Dennis first made his "free energy" noise, we received our first offer. A group of businessmen came to our company and met with us. They offered ten million dollars for the rights to our technologies. It would have made us rich, but that was not our program. Our program was bringing free energy to the world, not being bought out and the technology shelved. We could not say for certain that was their goal, but it smelled similar to the stories I had heard when I was younger.
We did not accept their offer, but kept plugging away on a shoestring. We almost became involved with a household name marketing organization at about that time. They performed some shoddy investigation of our technology, tested a broken system, and decided against becoming involved with us. We were becoming desperate for money, but Dennis was relieved that we did not get involved, because it would mean losing his freedom.
In Ventura, Dennis hit on a program that worked. We ran ads in newspapers, such as USA Today, modestly titled "Free Electricity!" and we sent out videotapes of our pitch, offering to sell educational materials to market, manufacture and install the heat pump, and told them we were working toward free energy. People began mailing us checks for thousands of dollars. About all I had seen with Dennis was disaster until September of 1987, but Dennis said he had found the new rocket ship.
The program exploded. Money began pouring in from across the country. We were so buried in orders that we were more than a month behind in shipping them out. We went from a few volunteers to more than forty employees in about two months. The rocket was taking off. I did not see Dennis' glory days in Seattle, but I saw it in Ventura. It was like holding onto a rope tied to a rocket ship.
After the raid, as we tried avoiding the next deathblow, it gave us more credibility, not less, with the public. Many people had some idea how the system worked, and being attacked told many that we were onto something. Our sales increased, and in May of 1988 Dennis received a second offer. That one was different. Dennis was invited to meet some bankers in Chicago. Dennis met a CIA man who represented "European" interests and said that they would write Dennis a check. They would "put a '1' on it" and Dennis could put on the zeroes. It is one thing to hear the stories from people who approach you; it is another level of understanding when it happens to you.
Dennis' integrity had already been tested many times, although he never got a "name your price and we will pay it" offer before. Dennis made a counteroffer: he would to put the zeroes on the check, but the money would go right back into the European interests' pockets, and they would be forced to spend that money on bringing free energy to the world! The CIA man was stunned. He sat there, speechless. After he recovered from his shock, he regained his friendly demeanor but said he was not prepared to accept Dennis' offer. He met Dennis in California a few weeks later, but never again mentioned the offer. The next month, Dennis was arrested with a million-dollar bail. Dennis thinks that his arrest was their response to his offer. I would have been a millionaire many, many times over if Dennis had taken that deal, but dealing with the devil never works out too well. I could not have lived with myself if we had taken that quiet money. That was the exact opposite of what we were about.
Such offers are never put on paper. I have now heard of many like it. Nobody goes to court to try enforcing those kinds of deals. Now that I have heard many stories similar to ours, from those with no reason to lie to us, I see the game. As Don Corleone did, they make you an offer you can't refuse. If you refuse their offer, they destroy you. Here are other stories told to us or myself, from people we believe.
A few weeks after we came to California in the summer of 1987, Dennis ran "Free Electricity!" ads in the Los Angeles Times. In those ads, he was looking for salesmen. One evening, Dennis and I were in Mr. Professor's office (we had not gotten going in California yet) and Dennis was calling the ad leads. As I worked alongside him, Dennis talked to a sales lead that told Dennis that he was the marketing director for a company that made cars that got 100 MPG. He said the company no longer existed because the founders were in prison. The government prosecuted them for fraud. It was the standard "protect the consumer" angle. The man said the prosecution's star witness claimed that he was an important engineer for their company, who worked for them for years. The "engineer" testified to the company's fraudulent practices. Nobody at the company had ever seen the man before. Forged payroll records were produced at the trial to "prove" the witness worked for the company. The man told Dennis, "You don't know what they'll do to you!" Dennis told the man "Admit it, you called me because you believe some people have the guts to do it. You want to see me succeed." Dennis was jailed less than a year later.
With the national exposure that Dennis receives from time to time, we became a magnet for others like us, and they came, telling familiar stories. Our experiences were far from unique. After the raid, and before Dennis was arrested, we had a number of people approach us, telling their tales. Here are two more.
One man told us of living in a chiropractor's back office for two years. His friend taught at a California State University. He developed a chemical method to extract platinum from ore considered unmineable. The process promised to make platinum much more available, hence cheaper. Experiments yielded nearly unbelievable results. They became involved with the big money boys, some famous old New York money. They were financed and began using the process to mine in the California desert. They bought the necessary mining equipment with the New York money. Suddenly, the bank seized their funds, and the sheriff was beating their door down for violating a law that nobody had enforced since the nineteenth century. The two men fled in a panic. The teacher's truck was found abandoned in the desert. He was never seen again. The other man slept in the back of a chiropractor's office for two years in order to stay alive. The New York money now owns the land where the mine was.
One man showed up at our office in a limousine. He told us that he once owned a windmill facility in the Southwest that actually worked, not an investment scam used to get federal tax breaks. He was selling electricity, competing against the electric companies. One evening he was working late at his facility, and he received a phone call. The caller told him that if he did not immediately leave the premises and never return, his family would be dead by dawn. The caller made it clear that he was serious and could deliver on his threat. The man took out his calculator and did some figuring. His net worth was about $400 million, and he had invested $35 million in the windmill project, about nine percent of his net worth. It was not worth it. He packed up his briefcase and left the premises, never to return. At our business he said, "I wish you the best, but you do not know what you are up against."
Those people had no reason to make things up. They were relating their traumatic experiences to people who would listen, not ridicule, and perhaps heed their cautionary tales. I now know how they felt.
One thing decried as an "urban legend" by the "skeptics" is the high MPG carburetor. I had an engineer friend who was designing and building his own high MPG carburetor. The basic flaw with today's carburetion systems is that they introduce liquid into the combustion chamber, and therefore the gasoline cannot completely ignite. Coming out the tailpipe are the results of combustion and uncombusted fuel, now completely vaporized as it exits the exhaust pipe. If carburetors can be designed to inject vaporized gasoline, the combustion will be more complete, and more energy released. All high MPG carburetors work on that principle, and are called vapor-injection carburetors. My friend was building a vapor injection carburetor and sent away for lists of patents on them. The ones he saw marketed were poorly designed, and he thought he could do better. He got back quite a list. Practically every patent was in the name of auto companies and other large corporations. He wisely abandoned his project.
One corporate coworker of mine was a U.S. Department of Justice investigator early in his career. He worked undercover, and sometimes he rotated into other duties. He was assigned one of the Justice Department's more mundane tasks: responding directly to public inquiries. It was crummy work, but somebody had to do it, and the low-ranking people got that duty. The phone calls came into the Justice Department and were recorded. One day he responded to a caller who said that an American automobile company had threatened his life. My buddy called the man back, figuring it was one more paranoid tale, but he could not lightly dismiss alleged death threats. He called and said, "Sir, what evidence do you have that (the car company) is going to kill you? The man replied, "Because they told me so. Showed right up at my house and told me so." When he asked why, the man replied, "Because I invented a carburetor that gets more than one hundred miles a gallon."
As the conversation continued, my buddy realized the story was becoming difficult to dismiss, and he decided to visit the man. He got on a plane and flew to his house. The man invited him to his garage to see his carburetor. The man said that the car company tried buying it from him. When that strategy failed, they threatened him. Then they tried both tactics at once, culminating with a man showed up with a half million dollars in cash in a sack, telling him to take it. He was told that if he did not take it, he would be killed. The investigator began taking the case more seriously, and asked what the man wanted the Justice Department to do. He said, "I want you to protect me!"
The investigator looked more deeply into the matter, and the man was apparently telling the truth. Here was the Justice Department's response, as delivered by my buddy,
"We cannot protect you forever, unless you move away and change your identity, which we can help you do, but if you try selling your carburetor again, they will find you. We suggest that you settle the matter with them."
The man settled with them, when given those options. He let them buy it out, and it was a pretty good deal, better than the earlier ones, probably because he got the Justice Department involved. The deal was for a million dollars a year for fifty years, payable to his heirs in the event of his death. My buddy told me that the oil companies funded it. My buddy was not a wild-eyed, paranoid lunatic. He was a corporate big shot who performed the investigation himself, somebody I worked with for five years. I imagine that man's carburetor was on the list of vapor injection carburetors that my engineer friend received. Another buddy who worked for General Motors told me a similar tale, as have others.
I had an encounter with Tom Bearden, the leading theorist of free energy. Richard Hoagland presented a conference in Seattle in September 1988 in which Bearden and the astronomer Tom Van Flandern also presented their theories and data. It was an interesting conference. There were question and answer sessions. None of my many submitted questions were answered, but Bearden answered somebody else's question regarding the suppression of free energy. I have immense respect for Bearden's experiences in the field and what he knows. Bearden spent about twenty minutes answering the question, and when he finished the audience was stunned.
Bearden is aware of a global infrastructure that suppresses free energy research, development and marketing attempts. He said it was not the oil companies, per se. The oil companies were in the business of finding oil, extracting it, refining it and selling it. They do not bother themselves with suppressing alternative energy, at least not the efforts Bearden described. Bearden said that some oil company owners, however, were extremely vigilant, and they were behind the suppression of free energy. He said they had developed the global infrastructure that wiped out free energy innovations.
Bearden may not see the entire picture (if anybody does), as our experiences were related to the electric companies, not the oil companies, but Bearden's opinion is not to be taken lightly. Bearden said that the small group of oil company owners (Rockefeller agents are nearly guaranteed to be involved) have built a sophisticated organization that keeps its ear to the ground, keeping tabs on free energy efforts and making sure they never succeed. He said they were experts in "game theory." Bearden said he might write a book about it someday.
Bearden said they build dossiers on all free energy researchers and pioneers. They study each individual for weaknesses. Does a man have a weakness for attractive women? Does he smoke pot? What angle can they use on him? Can they direct an inventor toward his organization whose personality will clash with the others? Bearden said their game theory was a discipline of strategy, probability and outcome, whereby a free energy pioneer is similar to the king in a chess game, and maneuvering him into checkmate is the goal. Those people working for the oil company owners (it may extend to all energy companies) spend their careers derailing free energy threats. It is only when clandestine moves fail that they escalate the strategy. Death threats, prison terms and violence only happen when the game reaches higher levels.
Here is a good place to insert a quote from Machiavelli:
"And one should bear in mind that there is nothing more difficult to execute, nor more dubious of success, nor more dangerous to administer than to introduce a new system of things: for he who introduces it has all those who profit from the old system as his enemies, and he has only lukewarm allies in all those who might profit from the new system. This lukewarmness partly stems from fear of their adversaries, who have the law on their side, and partly from the skepticism of men who do not truly believe in new things unless they have actually had personal experience of them."
Bearden told the crowd of an event that happened to him, demonstrating how the secret teams operate. Bearden has been involved with numerous companies for years, trying to get free energy developed and working with many free energy inventors. He has seen working free energy prototypes, but the game theory boys have been actively mischievous, making sure that nothing gets far along. One company Bearden worked with was looking for money. A person approached their company, presenting his credentials as a high-flying financial whiz who could get the money, but was really a plant from the secret team. He approached the Justice Department, telling them that he hired on with Bearden's company, but as he got deeper into their organization he realized that they were crooks, going for a big scam. He told the Justice Department that he would help them nab Bearden and friends if he got immunity.
Unbeknownst to the Justice Department (likely) or Bearden and gang, the secret team plant pieced together a financial deal. It involved offshore bank accounts, relatively anonymous organizations and other shadowy aspects. It seemed like a relatively straightforward deal to get legitimate money, but probably came from a money laundering operation for the drug lords or CIA. The money was not "clean," but unless Bearden and gang performed a thorough investigation, they would never know. The plant put the deal together, but told the Justice Department that Bearden and friends were putting the deal together, and that he was the chump they hired to finalize it. The Justice Department was lured into the deal, rubbing their hands, ready to nab Bearden and his partners.
The secret team plant presented the deal to Bearden and friends, telling them that he found the money. They merely had to sign their name and the big money was theirs, making their noble free energy dream a reality. Bearden's funny bone quivered. It did not smell right. He had been there before and told the company president that the deal smelled suspicious, and to not sign it. They did not. In the next room were U.S. marshals, handcuffs ready, waiting for Bearden and friends to sign the documents. If Bearden and friends had signed the deal, they would have gone to prison for twenty years or so. They could nearly hear the groans from the secret team plant and marshals in the next room when Bearden's friends took his advice and did not sign.
Bearden told that story as an example of their non-violent Machiavellian methods to derail free energy inventors. Then Bearden told what happened when those "benign" game theory tactics failed. Only then would inventors and entrepreneurs get anonymous phone calls, telling them to stop their efforts if they wanted their family to live through the night. Their homes and businesses might mysteriously burn down at night. Bearden told of the friendly buy out offer. The inventor would be approached, asking if a few million dollars would be enough to buy out his technology. If the inventor or entrepreneur proved recalcitrant, he would get the offer he could not refuse: "If you don't take $10 million to buy you out, we will kill you and your family." Bearden's stories sounded very familiar. He said that $10 million was the going rate the last he knew, and knew an inventor friend who he thought was forced to "bite that bullet" fairly recently. They use big carrots and big sticks. How can they offer a carrot to a multi-hundred-millionaire building a windmill farm? They usually cannot, so they move straight to the big stick. I have also heard nightmare tales of them carrying through on their threats, where entire families have been murdered, their houses set on fire and then bulldozed. Those extreme measures can permanently derail certain free energy threats, but are only undertaken sparingly as they attract too much attention, as a world unaware of their suppression efforts is their best protection. Their methods have worked very effectively for at least the past sixty years.
For several reasons, I rarely use names when writing about these matters; the anonymous' fear for their health and their families' is a primary reason. Also, naming names can get me killed. I have seen many lives destroyed while on my journey, and many still live in fear today, all these years later. Several more people have to die before I can name many more names in my work, but it is now "safe" to mention Sparky Sweet by name, as his tale is famous and he died in 1995. Sparky was Bearden's friend and a successful research scientist whose work may be partly based on that of General Electric scientist Gabriel Kron. After retiring from General Electric, Sparky kept researching in his specialty of magnetism and eventually developed a prototype that generated a million times more energy than went into it. Even though some call him a "maverick," he was anything but, and went to great lengths to interest the energy establishment in his work. A limitation that plagues most inventors and engineers is their political-economic naïveté. R. Buckminster Fuller wrote about that problem, and Sparky was naïve about what the energy interests' reaction would be to mailing working prototypes to them. Their official response was silence. Instead of a tickertape parade for solving the world's energy problems, he was hounded to a grim end. The Big Boys were interested in his work, all right, but their attention was limited to putting him under surveillance (including showing him pictures that they took of him through the walls of his home), sabotaging his efforts to bring his technology to the public and making death threats that eventually drove him into hiding and a lonely and possibly violent end.
Sparky's fatal "heart attack" may well have been a natural one, but the spooks who use technology where they can photograph people through the walls of their homes can also shoot them with a microwave weapon which can induce a heart attack as they sit at their kitchen tables. Another free energy comrade may have experienced one of those spook-induced heart attacks while in his home, but he survived it and did not figure out what probably happened until years afterward. The spooks are experts at killing people and making it seem like an "accident" or "natural causes."
One of Dennis' technical advisors from the Ventura days was invited by the now-defunct International Tesla Society to visit Sparky in the late 1980s. Sparky lived in the Los Angeles area, not far from Ventura, where the fireworks began for us. When they met, Sparky was aware of what had happened to Dennis and voiced his sympathy. Sparky then showed Mr. Advisor his device. Mr. Advisor related to me the awe he experienced while watching it operate as ice formed on it. Sparky then related his experiences while developing his device and offered to make Mr. Advisor his partner, as Sparky knew him by reputation. Mr. Advisor, having lived through the Ventura nightmare, had no desire to repeat the experience and had retired from the alternative energy scene. He declined Sparky's offer. Sparky still wanted the benefit of Mr. Advisor's mind and lent him the textbook he wrote to describe his prototype's function and the theory behind it (some of which is on the Internet today). Mr. Advisor was impressed, and told me that the math was particularly elegant.
When I heard Steven Greer say in 2004 that the Big Boys told him that they paid off 10,000 people at an average of $10 million each over the past sixty years or so, it made perfect sense to me. Ten million dollars times ten thousand people is $100 billion in quiet money. I would not be surprised if the Big Boys spent another $100 billion on their global surveillance efforts and snuff jobs. That is a pretty penny, but is a pittance at the level they play at: keeping an entire planet enslaved to the scarcity paradigm. Greer also knows a fair number of billionaires, and when any have tried devoting funding or other help to a free energy effort, they have immediately received threats, the kind that windmill entrepreneur did. Again, it is difficult to dangle to effective carrots to the rich, so the Big Boys go straight to their big sticks when the rich poke their noses into the affair.
A high-profile friend of mine once received a demonstration from the spooks. He was transported, blindfolded, to an underground location where they demonstrated free energy, anti-gravity and other technologies, along with an explanation of why such technologies will remain underground for now. That friend has proven his integrity to me many times - he has not abused me with a fanciful tale. But very few can tell such a story, and virtually no one will tell it publicly. Those spook technologies my friend saw were probably developed at least partly by back-engineering "captured" extraterrestrial craft, the kind I have now seen with my own eyes. What my friend saw neatly aligns with what Steven Greer's 400-plus UFO witnesses have to say.
Here is my final anecdote from the free energy milieu. A fellow traveler once told me about his early experiences in the free energy field. He had a mystical awakening while a college physics student, and used his new insight to create a working free energy prototype. Within hours of getting his prototype to work, he received a "men in black" experience where the spooks descended on his lab bench, confiscated his prototype and incarcerated him. He was dazed when released, wondering what the heck had just happened. He eventually became indignant and planned to redevelop his prototype in secret. Years later, he rented a hole-the-wall lab under an assumed name and worked in the utmost secrecy. Immediately after he got his new prototype to work, the same "men in black" treatment happened again! He then stopped trying to make prototypes, and his free energy path has since taken a different direction. When I heard him say that, I imagined that the Big Boys must have a technology that can detect when anybody on earth taps into that energy field. In 2005, I heard from somebody whose opinion I respect on these matters, and he said that, indeed, the Big Boys have satellites in orbit that can tell when anybody taps into that field. Then they send their "men in black" after them to eliminate the threat of free energy. I have seen other weird evidence of the global control mechanism that the Big Boys have developed.
The technology the spooks possess is apparently about a hundred years ahead of what is on the market today. The American military has technology that is "only" about ten years ahead of what is on today's market. The spooks apparently have technology that can create holographic illusions that the people think are real events, not virtual reality. That is in the "way out" category not explored much on this site, because I have presented information people can pursue for themselves, and have avoided impossible-to-demonstrate information that is usually derided as "conspiracy theory."
That all-too-real scenario of the Big Boys' global control mechanism can seem depressing, but if enough people began waking up and caring about something beyond their egocentric existences, the Big Boys could not maintain their tyrannical grip over humanity for long. Finding and educating those people was why I made my website.
The math and physics that underlie zero-point energy and other unorthodox alternative energy technologies are not subjects that average Americans can easily study. What laypeople can study relatively easily, however, is why Dennis' heat pump was the world's best heating system and why my mentor's engine was the world's best for powering an automobile. There are only so many hours in a day and years in a life, and I decided long ago to focus on studying the political-economic aspects of this situation, and this site's material is easily studied by laypeople, if they devote the effort to it.
This section will conclude with a quote from Victor Marchetti, the first ex-CIA employee to really go public with what they really do, and the Brookings Institute's advice to NASA in 1960. Marchetti said:
"The purpose of the international conspiracy is to maintain a workable stability among the nations of the world and for them, in turn, to retain institutional control over their restive populations. Thus, for these governments to admit that there may be... technological capabilities obviously far superior... could, once fully perceived by the average person, erode the foundations of earth's traditional power structure. Political and legal systems, religious, economic and social institutions could all soon become meaningless in the mind of the public. The national oligarchical establishments, even civilization as we know it, would collapse into anarchy. Such extreme conclusions are not necessarily valid, but they probably accurately reflect the fears of the 'ruling classes' of the major nations, whose leaders (particularly in the intelligence business) have always advocated excessive governmental secrecy as being necessary to 'preserve national security.' The real reason for the secrecy is, of course, to keep the public uninformed, misinformed, and, therefore malleable."
Soon after NASA was founded, it commissioned the Brookings Institute to write a report on the social implications of space exploration. The report was delivered to NASA in 1960. The report ended with some shocking recommendations and observations.
The report warned of the implications of discovering signs of intelligent life elsewhere in the universe. It said that religious fundamentalists would be "electrified" by the discovery of life elsewhere, and said that scientists and engineers might be the most threatened of all by the discovery of intelligent life elsewhere, if it was significantly more advanced than ours. Those scientists and engineers:
"might be the most devastated by the discovery of relatively superior creatures, since these professions are most clearly associated with the mastery of nature, rather than with the understanding and expression of man. Advanced understanding of nature might vitiate all our theories at the very least, if not also require a culture and perhaps a brain inaccessible to the earth scientists."
The report further stated,
"Anthropological files contain many examples of societies, sure of their place in the universe, which have disintegrated when they have had to associate with previously unfamiliar societies espousing different ideas and different life ways; others that survived such an experience usually did so by paying the price of changes in values and attitudes and behavior."
Near the end the report stated,
"Questions one might wish to answer by such studies would include: How might such information, under what circumstances, be presented to or withheld [emphasis mine - Ed.] from the public for what ends? What might be the role of the discovering scientists and other decision makers regarding release of the fact of discovery?"
There is little difference between the motivation to cover up UFOs, ETs or free energy.
Jail and Kangaroo Court
The local courts summarily dismissed our civil rights suits against the Ventura County sheriff's deputies. A few days after they were dismissed, Mr. Deputy and friends struck. Dennis was arrested with a carefully orchestrated media splash across the southern California media, and Dennis was thrown in jail on a million-dollar bail. That was in June 1988. The bail schedule for the "crime" Dennis supposedly committed was $5000, but Mr. Deputy, who led the investigation, raid and arrest wrote a creative affidavit, asking that Dennis' bail be raised to one million dollars. The judge rubber-stamped it.
What happened in Ventura made the Seattle experience pale by comparison. Dennis was the catch of Mr. Deputy's career, and a few weeks after arresting Dennis, he was promoted to lieutenant, put in charge of the jail, and given an award for accomplishing the most difficult investigation in department history. At about thirty years of age, he was about the youngest man ever promoted to lieutenant in the department. He received a strange promotion, from a sergeant-investigator. Strange, until one realized that he personally oversaw his career catch, seeing to his comfort. His sidekick received a big promotion also. Mr. Deputy had his finest hour after arresting Dennis and imposing an astronomical bail, by far the highest of the jail's 1200 inmates, some in there for murder. Charles Manson had a million-dollar bail. Mr. Deputy had a steady stream of frightened employees kneeling in his office, begging for his mercy. Employees were making offers to steal documents from our office and deliver them to him, and he took them up on it! Such activities were documented in their investigative reports.
They were trying to put Dennis away for life. A civil law "violation" would be stretching it for a life sentence, so they concocted a few fraud charges as well. The case was fabricated from start to finish, with fabricated victims, fabricated charges, a law nobody had heard of, while law enforcement personnel committed the boldest felonies. In order to make the fraud charges stick, they had to portray Dennis as a man selling no viable technologies. How they could do that, when he was selling the best heating system the world market had ever seen, with government certified test data, I had no idea. I had yet to find out how extreme Kangaroo Court could get.
As in Seattle, there appeared to be another energy-industry-hired saboteur in our ranks. He was a dealer from Texas who tried ingratiating himself into the inner circle from the day he joined. When Dennis was arrested, the man led a coup attempt to take over the organization. He easily manipulated the dealers and employees, and worked with the sheriff's department to keep Dennis in jail. Dennis' wife was trying to raise the bail, and Mr. Texas discovered who put up bail collateral and threatened or lied to all of them so they would pull their collateral. He lied to one rancher who was putting up his ranch for collateral (who had installed one of our systems in his greenhouse and was saving nearly $500 a month with it) and told him that if Dennis was found guilty, the county would seize his ranch. That was a spectacular, felonious lie, but if one works for the right people, it merits a raise, not jail. In a month of manipulation and rapacity, Mr. Texas and Mr. Deputy closed the company's doors. Then Mr. Texas turned around and destroyed the fools who supported his power play.
In 2003, Mr. Texas was arrested in a religious scam, demonstrating that he was probably a free-lance criminal, not a provocateur. Mr. Texas' tale provides an example of how difficult it is to distinguish paid provocateurs from the everyday criminals that thickly populate America's entrepreneurial waters, because they both act the same. Mr. Skeptic, the latest and most persistent assailant that Dennis has encountered, is probably also a free-lance assailant.
Destroying the business was partly to make sure Dennis had no money to defend himself. After the business was destroyed, Mr. Deputy made sure that nobody with technical expertise could testify at Dennis' trial. Demonstrating the viability of the technologies that Dennis promoted would ruin the railroad job.
Every inventor and technical employee and/or consultant headed for the hills when Dennis went to jail. Some of them crawled into Mr. Deputy's office on their hands and knees, begging for his mercy. Mr. Deputy convinced them all that testifying on Dennis' behalf would make them a suspect themselves, and most wanted convincing anyway, which was why they crawled into Mr. Deputy's office. Mr. Deputy told anybody who needed convincing that they might occupy the cell next to Dennis' if they did not work with the prosecution.
The most heart-rending situation was Mr. Researcher's. He lived locally and had unimpeachable credentials. He saw what they did to his office during the raid, yet got on his knees and crawled into Mr. Deputy's office, saying every bad thing about Dennis that he could. Yet, he also knew the technology worked, and told Mr. Deputy so. Mr. Deputy started yelling at him, telling him that if he testified that the technology worked, he could expect to go to jail.
Mr. Texas strolled through our offices the day he successfully closed the company's doors. He told the employees that anybody who kept working there would be arrested. The employees stampeded out the door. They fled before payday, and were owed one-week's wages. Therefore, many stole anything that was not nailed down as they left. They stole our computers, office equipment, camera equipment, records and even equipment we had rented. Our machinist sold our entire machine shop, pocketed the money and left town.
Dennis' wife was desperately trying to raise the bail collateral. The bail bonding company kept changing their bail requirements, frightened by the obviously political nature of Dennis' incarceration. To try denying Dennis the chance to get out on bail, the Ventura County court set a new legal precedent. The SAMP charge had one precedent in California's history. The motion the DA filed to deny bail had one precedent in United States history. The DA filed a "Motion to Examine Sources of Bail." The only precedent in U.S. history was the case of a New Jersey drug lord who sold a million dollars worth of heroin to raise his bail. Equating a SAMP with heroin dealing, the DA filed the motion. The logic was that since the "crime" was related to the business Dennis ran, he could not use any money from his business, money he might have received in salary from his business, or any assets of any of his business associates! That ruling would put Bill Gates in jail with no chance of making bail.
In the meantime, I was not enjoying myself. The year before, in addition to working seventy hours a week, raising money, bringing in the technical talent and working for practically nothing (my personal income for those years was about $4000 per year), I lent the company my American Express card to help the cash flow. When Dennis was arrested, his wife, in her desperation to get him out of jail, did not pay off my credit card so she could pay the wages for those "loyal" employees who stole everything that was not nailed down. When it all came crashing down, I was stuck with $27,000 on my credit card. I tried working it out with American Express, but they did not want to, and preferred forcing me into bankruptcy, which I did before the year was out.
In the fall of 1988, Dennis was rotting in jail with his astronomical bail. I was driving to LA, working as a temporary employee. I was going blind in a basement, looking at microfiche all day long, reconciling a garnishment account for a huge security company. I was trying to scrape up enough money to file for bankruptcy, and was helping Dennis however I could. Dennis' preliminary hearing was coming up. Mr. Professor took in Dennis' wife and children and supporting the entire operation to try rescuing Dennis. He ended up spending hundreds of thousands of dollars of his own money. The events helped destroy his health and nearly killed him.
Mr. Deputy's fraudulent investigation and prosecution was largely successful. He chased off every technical expert. One way the court kept test data suppressed was by ruling that the person who performed the testing would introduce the only admissible data. They made sure that Dennis had no money by destroying his company, so he could not afford to fly witnesses to the trial.
In Arizona a few years earlier a government-certified lab produced test data on our heat pump. One of their tests measured a COP of more than seven. They were close to California, and we might have gotten them to testify. Their data could have been a problem for Mr. Deputy's case, but he adroitly handled the situation. One of Mr. Deputy's sidekicks wrote a letter to that Arizona lab. He lied to them, telling him that Dennis was using their name and test data to pull off a scam, and the unit they tested was not the one that Dennis promoted. That was in the Big Lie category. It was the same equipment. Later, the president of the company that hired the lab asked them for a certified copy of their data. His company paid for the tests. The lab wrote him back a strange letter, stating that their attorney was advising them. They would only provide certified test data if he wrote a letter stating that the unit they tested was not the one that Dennis promoted, and that he had no business connection with Dennis. Then the lying letter the deputy used to scare them surfaced.
When the preliminary hearing was held, the nearly paraplegic Dennis attended it in leg irons. They violated Dennis' civil rights almost daily while he was in jail, as they tried breaking his spirit. Since Mr. Deputy was promoted to run the jail, Dennis received extra-special treatment. The prosecution apparently had the most extravagant preliminary hearing in county history. They flew in more than twenty witnesses from across the nation. They spared no expense, spending hundreds of thousands of dollars to prosecute Dennis. Meanwhile, the defense was broke. The only technical witness locally available was Mr. Researcher, but remembering Mr. Deputy's threats when he was on his knees, he quailed and hid to avoid the subpoena that Dennis' lawyer was trying to serve him.
That left me as the key witness. The prosecution tried intimidating me by subpoenaing me several times. Some people, looking out only for their own hides, tried convincing me to fall on my knees in front of Mr. Deputy myself, and beg for his mercy. Again, virtually nobody "got it." The reign of terror by Mr. Deputy was so effective that only Mr. Professor, a few other people and I were not frightened into running for the hills. With everybody gone, I became Dennis' star witness.
The defense was in such straits that I testified to thermodynamics and the technology. I could do a fair job of presenting it, but had no credentials that the court would recognize. Even so, I tried.
In retrospect, testifying was a pivotal moment in my life. I did not come to that conclusion until relatively recently. Life-changing events are not always obvious while one experiences them. I took a day off from work to testify, and spent several hours on the witness stand. I had never been in a courtroom before meeting Dennis. I had one heck of a first experience. When I walked into the courtroom, it was nearly empty. Just as I walked in, there stood Mr. Deputy, a few feet away. He was talking with the local newspaper's reporter. The reporter looked younger than me, and I was only 30. They were engaged in furtive laughter as I walked in. The local paper was particularly merciless and libelous in reporting Dennis' case. That cub reporter wrote most of the stories. The situation I saw made me think of an arrogant fraternity brother holding court with an obsequious pledge. They were softly laughing. Mr. Deputy was regaling Mr. Cub Reporter with the goodies on Dennis. It was a conversation along the lines of, "And let me tell you something else, buddy," with Mr. Cub Reporter's jaw dropping open as Mr. Deputy told him another sensational revelation about how crooked Dennis was. Mr. Cub Reporter was trying to contain his laughter, but not very effectively. They were trying to be quiet, but it was not that quiet, and their charade dominated the room as I entered. It was high theater.
I was gradually finding out about the county I was raised in. Ventura County has a reputation for having one of America's most corrupt judicial systems. A few years after I testified, Ventura County made news by acquitting the officers charged in the Rodney King beating trial, an event that triggered riots in Los Angeles. It also has one of most corrupt police forces, and even makes the top ten lists of people who track such things. The local newspaper is part of the corruption. I was discovering it firsthand.
It seemed that our attorney had been privately told what the program was. He was probably threatened with vengeance if he vigorously defended Dennis, but he never admitted to us what had happened.
The high theater that greeted me while walking into the courtroom was merely a warm-up. Ms. Prosecutor was a local law school graduate (the place nearly looked like a barn, and graduates of it often acted like it was one), and she prosecuted the case from the moment Dennis was arrested. Technically, he no longer had a million-dollar bail. In the first bail hearing the judge reduced it to a paltry $750,000, which was still by far the highest bail of the 1200 county jail inmates. At that hearing, I was shocked to hear Ms. Prosecutor telling outrageous lies to the judge. If Dennis had ever told a lie remotely as big as the ones I heard her tell, he would still be behind bars. Soon after Dennis was arrested, his lawyer approached Ms. Prosecutor, asking her if they could work out a deal. Her response to Dennis' attorney was, "If he pleads guilty to all charges, I will see that he doesn't get the death penalty!"
Dennis' attorney made no preparations to defend Dennis. Dennis and his wife were doing all the work. They prepared cue cards for the lawyer to read, so he would ask the right questions. About the only time the lawyer spent on the case was in the courtroom. Dennis and his wife prepared about seventy questions to ask me. It was going to take a long time. As soon as I got on the witness stand, the judge broadcasted an obvious attitude. Prosecution witnesses go first and defense witnesses last in trails, to favor the innocence of the defendant, as the most recent testimony the jury would likely remember best. I was the defense's star witness, and could testify to many practices that would have determined any fraudulent nature regarding our business. I handled all the money and helped run the business. My testimony would be key to the issue of fraud, but as soon as I got on the witness stand, the judge made a statement regarding how long the trial was taking, and how he hoped it would not take long for my testimony. The prosecution spent endless time and money with their witnesses, while the defense had to be quick about it.
The prosecution had an "impressive" list of witnesses and "victims." The raid happened on January 14th, and Dennis was not arrested until late June. In the intervening months, Mr. Deputy and his pals took our customer list and called all our customers. They were fishing for "victims." As in Seattle and Boston, in Ventura the investigation did not begin because victims complained to the authorities. There were no victims, but when there are no victims, they must be manufactured. That was what Mr. Deputy spent the majority of those months doing. They called all our customers, asking them leading questions about their satisfaction with our company.
The ranks of Dennis' organizations have always been filled with constitutionalists and other political activists. They knew we were not only about making money with a free energy machine. They knew that our project might be one of freedom's last chances, so many customers received Mr. Deputy's fishing expedition rudely. They told him where he could stick his "investigation," particularly ones outside of California, knowing the long arm of his corruption could not reach them. His response was to uncooperative "victims" was threatening them, telling them that if they continued to participate in the organization, they would be suspects themselves. Mr. Deputy was trying to scare away anybody associated with the company, threatening them with jail. He told Dennis salesmen that they could spend sixty years in prison for working at our company.
After his campaign of cajoling and intimidation, Mr. Deputy rounded up nine "victims" from our hundreds of customers. They worked through the customer list in alphabetical order. One day we would hear from a customer whose last name began with an "A." The next week we would hear from a customer whose last name began with a "C," telling us that Mr. Deputy (or sometimes the sheriff himself) had contacted them. Who were the nine "victims?" One "victim" had his check lost in the raid, so he never paid for his materials. Another "victim" was from our early days in Ventura, before we had our operation running smoothly. He lived locally and we lent him the materials, telling him he could bring them back if he did not like them, or pay for them if he did. He was one of the many thieves we encountered. He took our materials, then reneged on his promise to either return them or pay for them. We made numerous calls to him. Every time we called, he told us a cheap lie, such as "The check is in the mail." That charade went on for about nine months. We chalked it up to experience. He had actually stolen our materials, and he was one of the victims.
Another "victim" bought our materials and liked our technology so much that he set up a competing organization, trying to lure away our customers to his operation. His victimhood was an attempt to wipe out the competition. His testimony was ironically the only one accepted by the court where somebody testified regarding the high COPs our system got. He testified for the prosecution, telling the court that the system he bought from us and installed got a COP of nine, and that he was trying to build a free energy machine himself using Dennis' technology. He was quite a victim.
Before the raid, we had a policy of a ten-day free trial. We would Federal Express our materials to the customer. If in ten days they had not sent back the materials (at our expense), they bought it. That is one of the few places where the prosecution might have had a legitimate case. Depending on the state, consumer protection laws can require that the refund period be extended to months, not only ten days. I doubt they even tried that angle. Since all of our records were seized, we had no idea of the status of many orders. In the raid's wake, we were battling just to keep the doors open. After about six weeks of trying to operate with my records gone, I began going into a general physical collapse, caused by the stress. I was looking like a raccoon again. We were understandably slow in getting out refunds to customers who we had no record of.
Another "victim" purchased his materials just before the raid. Through records on our computers, we at least had the phone numbers of many of our customers. We called all our customers we knew of, asking them to send us whatever documentation they had. We called him, and when he heard what had happened he called Mr. Deputy to find out more. It is easy to imagine how that conversation went. After talking to Mr. Deputy, the man returned his materials. In the pandemonium of trying to survive the raid, that man who returned his materials did not get a prompt refund. He called our office, saying that Mr. Deputy had talked to him, asking him to sue our company. I talked to the customer. He told me he had returned his materials within the ten-day trial period, but did not have his refund yet. I told him some of our problems, and said I would expedite his refund if I could find his properly returned package in our building. I hung up the phone, searched our office, and found his properly returned materials. I prepared a refund check and overnighted it to him. I enclosed a note with his refund check, apologizing for the delay in refunding his money, and asked him if he could send us a note, telling us what Mr. Deputy told him. The man paid for his materials, returned them according to our terms (when scared into it by Mr. Deputy), and we refunded his money, as we did for every customer who properly returned the materials. That man was one of the nine "victims."
Mr. Deputy visited some of our customers; the ones close enough to easily drive to. Mr. Deputy thought he would be more effective in manufacturing victims if he personally met them. One customer lived in the San Fernando Valley, about an hour's drive from Ventura. The San Fernando Valley is in Los Angeles County, so was out of Ventura County's jurisdiction. Mr. Deputy showed up at the man's house unannounced and began asking his clever and leading questions. Mr. Deputy was an expert manipulator, which was partly why his career was so successful. The man in the San Fernando Valley had not paid for his materials (he asked us to not cash his check, and we did not), believed in what we were doing, and thought Dennis was the finest human being he had ever met. He became increasingly irritated with Mr. Deputy's line of questioning, and told Mr. Deputy the interview was over, and further told Mr. Deputy to get off his property. That man became another "victim." The man did not even know he was a "victim." He was shocked when asked why he was pressing charges against Dennis. He said he did not think he was a victim, and he thought it was horrible what they had done to Dennis. That victim was quickly crossed off the victim list by the prosecution.
Of the nine "victims," only one truly acted like a victim, and his story bears telling. After the raid, we realized what laws they were using against us, and we got educated. The SAMP law was about making disclosures. The law provided a "cure" if it had been violated. Our crime was not filing a one-page form with the Secretary of State and paying fifty dollars. That was the crime, and that is what they "got" Dennis on. He spent two years behind bars for that "crime." Part of the "cure" was offering refunds for inadvertent violations of the law. Dennis had a "Cure Tour" a few weeks after the raid, offering refunds to those who thought they deserved them. I attended one in Los Angeles. Dennis told the story of what happened, what he was planning on doing, and letting anybody out who wanted to. When Dennis speaks at events like that, people regain their faith and support him. It is one of his talents, for better or worse. If he had the bent of a Hitler, he would be a dangerous man.
At that Los Angeles "cure" meeting, during the question-and-answer period, one man looked like an off-duty deputy and began making rude and accusatory remarks about Dennis. He sounded like an abrasive lawyer. People were shying away from him as he made an ass out of himself in public. He had purchased our materials and wanted his refund. The event was for people to get refunds if they wanted them. The man was not satisfied with merely getting his refund, but made a scene about how crooked he thought Dennis was. He was even quoting what Mr. Deputy said about Dennis. In another venue, the crowd might have pounded him to a pulp, but we ushered him from the room and told him that if he sent his materials to our office, he would receive his refund. He then made the strange remark that that was all he wanted. He acted like the BPA hit man and other provocateurs I have seen. He reminded me of the ruthless kind I often saw in Los Angeles during my early CPA days. Being in his presence was decidedly unpleasant.
A few days later, I accepted the return of his material and gave him his refund. He showed up with his wife. Because I was about to give him his money, he wore an unctuous air, heaping on the fake friendliness a lemon-selling used car salesman might use while closing the rip-off deal. My skin was crawling. His wife made some compliment about a picture on my wall, and I affably handled them, trying to get them out of the office as quickly as possible. One deals with that type as cautiously as possible. At the preliminary hearing, he acted like the biggest "victim" of them all. He apparently was as obnoxious on the witness stand as he was at the "cure" meeting. Getting a total refund was not enough, the man reasoned. He had spent hours reading the material we sent him, and thought he should be reimbursed for his time spent reading the material, at a very high rate per hour.
Dennis was sitting there in leg irons with a $750,000 bail. He had been in jail for five months at that time, and that man had the gall to claim a right to be paid for his time in reading Dennis' material. If anybody was a plant from the sheriff's department, it was that man. Those were the "victims" that Mr. Deputy hung his hat on, going for life imprisonment for Dennis.
Ms. Prosecutor asked me if I had ever heard Mr. Researcher "tell Dennis he was going too fast?" Immediately the defense objected, as that kind of question Mr. Researcher should have answered, not me. I am not a lawyer, but it had something to do with hearsay, I believe. The judge overruled the defense's objection and ordered me to answer the question. I truthfully said, "No." The prosecution wanted a different answer. A few seconds after I answered, the judge said, "I reverse myself. Strike that testimony from the record." It was the wrong answer for the judge too. It was my first experience on a witness stand, and I was in Kangaroo Court. A year later, in the heat of other grim situations, Ms. Prosecutor accused me of perjury for that answer I gave, the one stricken from the record by the judge.
Dennis' lawyer would not even read the cue cards properly. After barely asking me any questions about the business, he said, "I have no further questions for this witness." There was a surprised snort from Dennis, and he almost strangled his attorney, whispering fiercely, and his attorney said, "I'm sorry your honor, I have a few more questions for this witness." Then the judge became piqued, telling Dennis' attorney that he would allow a few more questions, but that time was short and they needed to get me off the stand as quickly as possible, to stop wasting the court's time. I left the witness stand having answered only a small percentage of the questions prepared for me.
That situation was merely the backdrop for my pivotal moment. The part that changed my life was Mr. Deputy's performance. While I testified, Mr. Deputy sat next to Ms. Prosecutor. The way the courtroom was arranged, he sat directly in front of me, about twenty-to-thirty feet away. Looking straight out, I looked directly into his face. Apparently, the proceedings were not rigged enough for Mr. Deputy. He tried intimidating me as I testified. His charade with the reporter was only a warm-up. When I testified about thermodynamics, the prosecution protested. Then Ms. Prosecutor thought she could show how ignorant I was, and asked me what I knew about Carnot and thermodynamics. My answer showed that I knew a little about it. Mr. Deputy made faces at me while I testified. His reaction after I testified about thermodynamics was a theatrical expression that conveyed, "Gee, the kid knows something. Give him a point."
Before my testimony on thermodynamics, Mr. Deputy made a number of disdainful reactions. His sidekick was sitting in the public seats behind him. When I made a statement, Mr. Deputy would dramatically turn his body around, put his hand next to his mouth, and act as if he was talking to his sidekick. His body would shake as if he was laughing. When he finished making his comment, (nearly silent, but not quite) he would turn back to face me, always trying to wipe a feces-eating-grin off his face, but never quite succeeding. It was never to the point of disrupting the proceedings, but he was playing Marcel Marceau, my pantomiming adversary as I was testifying. If a child did that in a fifth grade classroom, the teacher would swiftly put an end to it. In Kangaroo Court, the judge and Ms. Prosecutor pointedly ignored his imbecilic behavior. Sometimes he would snort when I said something.
My future wife took the afternoon off from work to watch me testify. Other than Dennis' wife, Mr. Cub Reporter and Mr. Sidekick, my future wife was the only person in the public seating. Mr. Deputy was not jumping into the air and doing jumping jacks, but sitting directly in front of me, which was surely no accident. There was a brief recess while I testified, and I asked my wife if she had noticed Mr. Deputy's gyrations. She did not, as she was far more focused on me. I told her to keep an eye on him while I testified after the recess, and she could see what kind of trial it was. Mr. Deputy did not disappoint her. His faces, gestures and theatrical asides to Mr. Sidekick escalated after the recess. His sweeping gestures even took in Mr. Cub Reporter. The newspaper articles that Mr. Cub Reporter wrote about the trial were virtually dictation from Mr. Deputy. The lies were thick and furious.
The last question I was asked was how much money the company took in during a certain span of time. When I said about $2 million, Mr. Deputy nearly leaped out his chair, turning his body all the way around, gesturing to Mr. Sidekick and Mr. Cub Reporter. Mr. Cub Reporter even began laughing, so my wife said. Apparently, they were trying to make a connection between the gross revenues of a company and how much money Dennis "stole." It was an ignorant sentiment, repeated in Mr. Cub Reporter's next article, which was published the next day. The term "gross revenues" does not mean it went into Dennis' pocket, which was one of the many malicious rumors that Mr. Deputy had circulated. He was telling everybody that Dennis had jammed millions of dollars into his pockets somehow. It was an outrageous lie, which anybody with any business experience knows well.
Mr. Deputy's performance was in November of 1988. After the pitiful defense was finished, the judge remanded the case to trial, and then came the wait until trial. At that point, after seeing how the preliminary hearing went, it looked like Dennis had a snowball's chance in hell. I was still working as a temporary employee, looking for permanent work in LA, getting my bankruptcy filing prepared. Mr. Researcher fled into hiding to avoid the subpoena, and was in hiding for months. It was a grim December. I found work in Los Angeles as an accountant in a medical lab, and began work the week before Christmas, the day after I filed for bankruptcy. There were several betrayals by my friends and family during those days, and some were major; it was a grim time.
A few days later, it was Christmas. Dennis is a literalist Christian, which has something to do with his migrant farm worker upbringing. I will take the loving parts of any religion, and when Dennis is not attacking homosexuals or feminists because the Bible says he can, he has the love part of Christianity down fairly well, about as well as I have seen. His stay in the county jail was not pleasant. Dennis was about eighty pounds overweight when he was arrested. During his life he has often fasted, usually for the biblical forty days. For his first month in jail, Dennis was just trying to survive. In jail, the meals had a calorie intake barely above the starvation level. That was partly because of the county's corruption; the money not spent on prisoner food made it into a government official's pocket. Hunger was a constant for the prisoners.
Dennis fasted his first month in jail, but went to all the meals and gave his meals to the biggest, meanest guys there. He made friends fast. Dennis is so charismatic and amazing that within a month he was running his cellblock. Within a month, he had transformed his cellblock from a place of fear into a dormitory atmosphere. Dennis, as his wife said, blooms where he is planted. He figured that as long as he was in jail, he could do his Christian ministry there. He had a welcome wagon for new inmates. He saved up his chocolate ration to give to new inmates who were kicking heroin cold turkey, as chocolate helps the withdrawal symptoms. Mr. Deputy did not want Dennis getting too comfortable. After a month, just when Dennis had transformed the environment in his cellblock to a dorm atmosphere, he was suddenly moved to a new cellblock, where he knew nobody. That was a violation of Dennis' rights, but it was simply part of the psychological warfare Mr. Deputy and his minions were waging to break Dennis' spirit in jail. Somebody paid the county officials handsomely to keep the heat on Dennis, but some of his treatment was probably just sadistic, free-lance malice, engaged in by those who ran the jail.
Dennis also became a jailhouse lawyer, going to the jail law library as often as he could. He filed more than one hundred legal motions while he was in jail. He also eventually ran his new cellblock. After the farce of a preliminary hearing came and went, it looked bleak. Dennis wrote the story of his adventures after the preliminary hearing. It became his book My Quest.
With Christmas rolling around, Dennis was his usual extravagant self. He was going to throw a Christmas party for his inmates, and then tell them about his interpretation of Christmas. There were about thirty-five inmates in his cellblock. Mr. Professor contributed $50 so Dennis could throw his party. It worked out to about $1.50 per inmate. The jail had a commissary, and inmates could have an account to buy things in it, such as cigarettes, candy, paper, pencils, etc. Dennis was going to buy goodies for Christmas gifts for the inmates. The commissary account had a limit of $30. Dennis had it split $30 on his account and $20 on a cellmate's, and they planned the party. Suddenly, Dennis' inmate was transferred to another cellblock, and Dennis was thrown into solitary confinement. He had violated rule number 38, which said he could not transfer money or goods to another inmate.
As with the SAMP law, the intent of the law and its execution by evil-minded people are like night and day. They were turning down the screws on Dennis, to break him for trial. They also knew he was writing a book that did not flatter them. They tried it on the wrong man. Dennis was able to make collect phone calls, and he talked to me from solitary confinement. He told me how peaceful and quiet solitary confinement was, and how got more writing and research done in solitary. Ministering to his inmates was taking his time, and solitary was like a vacation for him. I have never met another like him.
It is Darkest Before the Dawn
Meanwhile on the outside, I was driving to Los Angeles every day. When I drove home, I went right by the county government complex. It was a park-like setting, but I knew Dennis sat in that tall building in the distance, and it appeared that he would never live to see this side of the bars again. It was at about that time that I had my worst moment. It was the most horrifying part of my journey so far. I am an avowed pacifist, and have not touched a weapon since I shot a BB gun as a child. At that time, I found myself thinking that getting a shotgun and "cleaning up" Ventura might not be such a bad idea. That I could even be brought to have thoughts such as that, however fleeting, was the most horrifying part of my entire journey. I immediately dismissed such thoughts as a product of my pain, but that I could be reduced to even imaging those scenes of violence was about as soiled as I have ever felt. I had gone far past losing my innocence. I was staring into the bowels of hell, wondering what it would vomit up next.
I decided to do whatever I could to save Dennis' life. During those dark days, Dennis' wife encountered other victims of Ventura County's legal system. Dennis was in good company. The most prominent person fighting the Ventura County corruption was Gary Wean. He became a friend of Dennis' wife in their common plight. Gary was a policeman who wrote a book about his adventures, published the year before Dennis was arrested, titled There's a Fish in the Courthouse. I obtained a copy through Dennis' wife and began reading. I was almost afraid to go to bed with the light off after reading it.
Gary was a policeman who worked in Los Angeles for a decade, then moved to Ventura County, then back to Los Angeles to become an investigator for the LA District Attorney's office. He did that for seven years, and then moved back to Ventura County in 1964. According to Gary's book, political murder was common in Ventura County. From Dennis' wife I got his telephone number and called his house. I talked to his wife, who was brusque until I told her who I was. Then she became friendly, telling me that they did not trust anybody who called them out of the blue. Gary was at a meeting that evening, trying to help some local people prevent a land grab by Ventura County's plutocrats. He went out of his way to meet me that evening.
We talked awhile about Dennis and our experiences. Gary told a little about his adventures, and said that the only reason he was still alive was that he never broke the law. He was an old time policemen who believed in the force of law and its potential for justice. Gary believed the law could work if properly enforced, and he had seen it all. While he could not claim many victories while challenging the legal gangsters, he believed he someday might.
I asked him what I could do to help Dennis. I said I would go to Washington D.C. or wherever I could to meet with somebody in government, any government, to intercede in the legal gangsterism that kept Dennis behind bars. He said, "There is nobody anywhere in American government who will help you. They are all in the same club. If you are going to help Dennis, you will have to do it yourself." Gary suggested that I refile my civil rights lawsuit in the local court, and that it might put heat on them. Gary had been waging lawsuits against the legal gangsters for many years. Gary had to become his own attorney because no attorney had the courage to help him confront the awesome corruption. While I respected Gary's opinion, I did not have the stomach to try taking them on in their own court, for civil rights violations.
They were going for a fraud conviction, and would have to portray Dennis as a snake oil salesman selling no viable technologies. The SAMP act was a civil law, and they were not going to put him away for forty years because he did not file a form. I did not think that even they could pull that off. Mr. Deputy also knew that, which was why he intimidated all the technical people that surrounded Dennis. There were several experts with impeccable credentials, and if any one of them testified, the legal gangsters would have a hard time making the fraud charges stick. Although his highly paid experts fled, there were others around the country that had experience with Dennis' heat pump and could credibly testify to its performance. At the preliminary hearing, the "experts" the prosecution paraded onto the witness stand included: two ex-Seattle employees who tried extorting money from us the year before and did not understand the technology well, and one even demonstrated his amazing ignorance on the stand; an electric company consultant who had never seen Dennis' heat pump run before, but testified that it would not work; and a man whose experience was limited to once testing a broken system.
If Dennis had competent expert witnesses testify at his trial, I thought he had a chance to beat the fraudulent fraud charges. I doubted that Dennis had much of a chance, whatever I did. Dennis himself was writing that he would be murdered behind bars, never living to be free again. I could not stand by and do nothing. By that time, Dennis was out of solitary, but they were turning the screws down harder each day. They had him hog-tied in jail. They even began threatening him.
With little hope of getting Dennis out of jail, I did the only thing I could: I mortgaged my life. Mr. Professor was busily trying to keep the business alive, and was housing Dennis' family and doing everything he could. Mr. Professor taught at the local college more than twenty years and was one of Ventura's most respected people. At the college, he was beloved by all. He was a millionaire before he met Dennis, and what happened to Dennis was the most educational and horrifying experience Mr. Professor ever had. I was raised in Ventura, but Mr. Professor was a pillar of the community. He had a hard time believing what he was seeing. As with me, the more corruption Mr. Professor saw, the more determined he was to stand up to it.
In late February of 1989, I approached Mr. Professor. I asked him if he would mortgage his home and lend me $50,000 so I could pay for some kind of defense for Dennis. Mr. Professor said that he would have to ask his wife.
The next week we met at his office, and Mr. Professor and his wife said they would lend me the money. I was going to borrow $50,000 from them at 10% interest to make a legal fund for Dennis. When they agreed, I was torn by several emotions at once. On one hand, I was relieved that I could help Dennis. On the other, I had just guaranteed that I would be spending the next ten years of my life paying off the loan, and it probably would not help Dennis at all.
After the preliminary hearing, they stepped up the heat, finding Dennis "guilty" of an infraction nearly every day. He had not had one during his first six months in jail, but he was suddenly being written up every day. It was part of a plan to forestall any chance of Dennis getting out on bail, making him seem less than the model prisoner. When Dennis had an attorney, the jail was caught opening his legal mail. Private mail between an attorney and his client is a part of the lawyer-client privilege, and one of our legal system's supposedly sacred cornerstones.
After the preliminary hearing, Dennis' lawyer said that he needed big money to continue representing Dennis, and quit. Dennis was his own attorney after that. Dennis was also writing My Quest. The jailers used the excuse that Dennis wrote about his God in his manuscript, which they creatively interpreted as a religious tract, to announce they would read everything that went between him and the outside world, to limit his proselytizing. All his phone conversations on the jailhouse phones were recorded, and all his mail read. The deputy who ran the jail personally read all of Dennis' writings, bragging to Dennis' wife that he could read thousands of words per minute. Dennis had no private contact with the outside world. Mr. Researcher was still in hiding at that time.
During the next month, the tide began turning. When the case was remanded to Superior Court, Dennis finally had one judge presiding over his case. Dennis previously made eight bail appeals, all summarily rejected. They all upheld Mr. Deputy's astronomical bail request. The Superior Court judge who inherited the case had a legal tarbaby on his hands. If Dennis was convicted, that judge would be responsible for how his legal treatment went. We believe it was no accident that that particular judge got Dennis' case. Dennis said he was the smartest judge he ever saw, and was the smartest one in the county.
Mr. Deputy's million-dollar-bail affidavit was an exercise in creative writing. His rationale was a combination of misrepresenting Dennis' "criminal" past, puffing up his own credentials as an expert in investigating fraud, and the highly strained logic of Dennis' victims helping hide him from "justice." Mr. Deputy theorized that the very people Dennis was defrauding would create a national underground network to hide Dennis from the law. It was one of the most ridiculous things ever written, but in Kangaroo Court all those judges rubber-stamped it. The DA's precedent-setting "Motion to Examine Sources of Bail" was one of many irregularities in Dennis' treatment.
The judge had a problem. Mr. Deputy and friends were not letting up in jail. The prosecution tried burying the defense in sheer paperwork. The prosecution introduced ten thousand pages of documents into discovery evidence. Documents that Dennis' employees stole when the company went under made up much of it. With Dennis being his own attorney, he had to sift through the discovery evidence to see what they were throwing at him. The jail was a state-of-the-art facility, and building the County Center was actually a huge defrauding of the Ventura County taxpayer, as chronicled by Gary Wean in There's a Fish in the Courthouse. The jail was a brand new facility of steel and concrete. If there were one building that was the least likely to burn down in Ventura, it would have been the new county jail.
One of the jail's "rules" was that an inmate could only have one cardboard box for his personal papers. It was like a box that oranges come in. With ten thousand pages of discovery evidence, that Dennis' wife had to copy at her own expense at the courthouse (paying to copy documents stolen from us was one of the many ironies of those days), one box would not hold all the documents Dennis had to sort through. Imagine that situation for a moment. They had rules that said he could only have one box, but they introduced evidence that took up two boxes. The jail was adamant that Dennis could only have one box. That recalls the old Soviet joke of "Have you stopped beating your wife?" Dennis was damned, whatever he did. One of Dennis' many legal motions was to have two boxes to hold copies of the evidence being used against him. The DA and jail heatedly contested his motion. Why? They said that two boxes would be a fire hazard and might jeopardize the jail.
The judge granted Dennis' request over the heated objections of Ms. Prosecutor. It was about Dennis' first legal "victory." After he won his "big victory," the man who really ran the jail came to Dennis' cell (he was also the man who read all of Dennis' correspondence with the outside world) and told Dennis that if the jail burned down because of Dennis, he would take personal vengeance on him (a thinly-veiled threat to his life).
We will probably only know a fraction of their evil deeds during those days. For instance, we know they tapped our telephones. One technique of phone taps, particularly illegal ones, is to use the phone line to transmit the recorded conversations to a central recorder. A friend from childhood, who worked at Dennis' company, heard a conversation of his from the day before, being transmitted to the central recorder. He happened to pick up the phone while the transfer was in progress. He was stunned. If his phone calls were being recorded, it is guaranteed that mine, Dennis', Mr. Professor's, Mr. Researcher's and others' phones were also tapped. That phenomenon of phone lines being used to transmit the recorded conversation, and somebody coincidentally picking up the phone while it was being transmitted, is not all that uncommon. I have heard of it before, but with illegal wiretaps. My phone has probably been tapped for years, and is probably being tapped today. While they were tapping phones around Ventura County, they also scrutinized every telephone conversation Dennis had, and were reading all his mail in or out.
Years later, Mr. Professor regularly received calls from men who were cellmates of Dennis' (Mr. Professor's home was Dennis' only phone number for years). The men called to tell Dennis that they had trod the straight and narrow ever since meeting Dennis. They were calling the man who changed their lives.
With my legal fund, Dennis was able to hire an attorney again, but we could only get a young lawyer who had never worked in a courtroom before. However, it did allow Dennis to have private mail going in and out again, and regained him a sliver of privacy. The jail had already been caught opening his legal mail. The judge had reprimanded them for doing it, and ordered them to stop.
In late March of 1989, the judge did something very strange. Dennis had been winning minor motions, such as getting two boxes for his papers, but one day in the middle of a hearing regarding other motions Dennis made, the judge asked Dennis why he had not brought up the issue of his astronomical bail. Dennis was stunned. Dennis had already made eight bail appeals, all summarily rejected, except for the first time when the judge lowered it to $750,000. Dennis replied that he was not ready to ask for a bail appeal just yet, because he was trying to assemble his strongest possible case, trying one last time to get out of jail before trial. The judge said, "Then I am calling for my own motion to look at your possibly excessive bail." Something was up.
Dennis saw his opening and ran for it. He had his wife assemble all that she could for his bail appeal. She rounded up of affidavits regarding various threats that Mr. Deputy made to employees, witnesses and anybody who might obstruct their plan for putting Dennis away. Dennis' wife was his legal runner, which among other things allowed her to spend more than the half-hour a week of visiting time that the jail allowed its prisoners. A few days before the scheduled bail hearing, Dennis' wife had a phone conversation with Dennis. She told him that she was sending him affidavits regarding the threats Mr. Deputy had made to people during his reign of terror. She was sending it in his legal mail package.
There were jail procedures for delivery of the legal mail. It was delivered directly to the inmate, bypassing the normal mail delivery. Dennis waited futilely for the legal mail. It was not delivered. It was delivered hours later, with the regular mail... and it had been opened. When the deputy delivered the opened package, Dennis made a scene, yelling for his fellow inmates to come witness the delivery of his opened legal mail. They all signed a statement that they witnessed it. The deputy who delivered the mail was shaken up. Dennis had one more big motion to add to his bail appeal. They were caught red-handed doing something the judge had already ordered them to not do.
I was at the bail hearing to testify to Dennis' character, to help make the case that he was no threat to jump bail. Mr. Professor and his wife were there. Mr. Deputy showed up with his own lawyer. The judge opened the hearing by saying that there were several motions Dennis had made about the jail's misconduct and Mr. Deputy, which he would consider. Mr. Deputy's lawyer ate humble pie, apologizing profusely for opening Dennis' legal mail and claiming that it was an innocent mistake. He was even going to produce a deputy to admit to the "clerical error" in opening Dennis' legal mail, testifying that nobody saw the package's contents except him. The judge thanked him for his apology, and said he was sure it would not happen again.
Then he said that it seemed that Dennis' "victims" appeared to have paid $20,000 to Dennis' company (it was actually $14,000). The judge then said he was lowering the bail to Dennis' own recognizance, with a $20,000 restitution deposit posted to reimburse the "victims" if Dennis was found guilty of fraud. Mr. Professor said that when the judge made his announcement, Mr. Deputy turned white as a sheet, looking as if he had swallowed his shoe. The next day, April Fools Day as fate would have it, Mr. Professor took $20,000 from my legal fund and paid Dennis' bail.
Meanwhile, Dennis was saying farewell to his inmate friends. Although they threw Dennis into solitary confinement for trying to throw a Christmas party, Dennis had an Easter celebration in jail, and even had an Easter egg hunt for the other inmates. Dennis came from the hearing and said, "The judge reduced my bail to my own recognizance!" His inmates gave a cheer and hoisted him on their shoulders.
Dennis again documents events from there quite well. The only way Mr. Deputy and friends could put Dennis away for life was to have him hog-tied and unable to defend himself from their fabricated charges. When he got out of jail and hired Mr. Big Time Attorney, the fraud charges were soon thrown out. As the fraudulent nature of Mr. Deputy's investigation became clearer, from fabricated victims to threatened witnesses to intimidated folks such as the Arizona test lab, Mr. Deputy's career-making case began crumbling.
Mr. Big Time Attorney had a national reputation. He was the leading attorney in the United States in defending U.S. citizens against the depredations of the Internal Revenue Service (IRS). Mr. Big Time Attorney specialized in taking on the IRS, and one of his cases went to the U.S. Supreme Court. That case dealt with criminal activities engaged in by IRS agents while prosecuting his client. In a case with parallels to Dennis', the Supreme Court ruled that the IRS agents had committed felonies in their pursuit of Mr. Big Time Attorney's client, but the Supreme Court ruled that although they had committed crimes, it did not mean that the case would be thrown out. The IRS agents would be prosecuted separately, independently of the case against Mr. Big Time Attorney's client. That alone was Orwellian, although Supreme Court Justice Thurgood Marshall notably dissented from the court's majority position. The criminals are admittedly doing the prosecuting, but the court ruled that their criminal behavior could be separated from their prosecutorial behavior, not tainting the government's case. Such Supreme Court rulings are not unusual. In 1992, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled that the U.S. Justice department was legally kidnapping people from Mexico because the extradition treaty with Mexico did not specifically say, "no kidnapping allowed." Their intervention to put George Bush the Second into the presidency is simply another instance of the Supreme Court's criminal behavior.
Mr. Big Time Attorney had to go to trial, his client was found innocent, and the IRS agents were found guilty, ruining their careers. Mr. Big Time Attorney was in the process of moving to San Diego from out of state, and Dennis took a day and went to see him. While other big name attorneys were asking for $250,000 up front to defend Dennis, Mr. Big Time Attorney was so impressed with Dennis' case that he only asked for a $10,000 retainer. That was almost exactly what was left of my original $50,000 loan from Mr. Professor. Mr. Big Time Attorney later told me that what originally drew him to Dennis' case was the million-dollar bail. "Is a SAMP a deadly weapon?" he said. "Was Dennis beating people over the head with his SAMP filing?" Mr. Big Time Attorney took Dennis' case more to sue the county for violating Dennis' civil rights than winning Dennis' trial, which he thought would be a joke to win.
Mr. Big Time Attorney gave us another peek into what happened behind the scenes. I do not know all the stories, but I can relate the ones that I heard. For instance, about a month before the raid, when we were flying high, an attorney flew out from Virginia to give us $10,000 for two full kits of materials. He was a friend of Ed Meese, who was the U.S. Attorney General at the time. I have little admiration for anything that went on in the White House during the Reagan-Bush years, but Meese was the nation's highest-ranking prosecutor. The attorney asked Meese what he knew about Dennis. Meese knew Dennis by name. Meese said, "We have investigated him thoroughly, and he is squeaky clean." The attorney emphasized the words "squeaky clean" as he handed Dennis a check for $10,000. I would not trust Ed Meese with my life, but if he said that about Dennis, it was not because Dennis had Meese in his hip pocket. On the day of the raid, as I was talking to Mr. Deputy and he was talking about the SAMP law we might have violated, I told him what that attorney said Meese said. Mr. Deputy replied with a grin, saying that he would not believe anything that Ed Meese said.
Mr. Big Time Attorney, soon after he took Dennis' case, hearing the unbelievable situations surrounding it, asked his FBI friends to look into what the intelligence world had on Dennis. His friends came back with something like, "Wow! Not only is there massive information in the FBI's files on Dennis, but it went to the CIA and beyond." Putting 5000 people into a stadium to talk about free energy gets attention in high places.
Soon after Dennis' 1996 Philadelphia show, Yull Brown, whom Dennis was promoting as nobody else had ever done before, had a meeting with Al Gore, otherwise known as Mr. Environment. Yull made a discovery that may lead to techniques to neutralize radioactive waste, and he successfully demonstrated it numerous times, even to Department of Energy personnel armed with their Geiger Counters. Gore is more of a politician than an environmentalist, and it showed in his meeting with Brown, as he backed off from any further investigation of Brown's technology. During Brown's conversation with Gore, he mentioned that Dennis Lee was promoting him, and a Clinton staff member replied, "You had better hope that the President does not hear you say that."
We even had the fun of a prosecutorial misconduct hearing, undoubtedly one of the few in county history, if not the first. Mr. Deputy eventually ascended to the hot seat, having amazing lapses of memory on the witness stand. All those threats were suddenly remembered as warnings. In the affidavit he wrote to justify increasing Dennis' bail from $5000 to $1,000,000, Mr. Deputy wrote of his expertise in investigating the crime of fraud. He stated that he had investigated hundreds of cases with fraud elements in them, and that he was such an expert on fraud, and Dennis was such a clear case of it, that the judge should heavily rely on his opinion in raising Dennis' bail to $1,000,000. When on the hot seat, Mr. Big Time Attorney asked Mr. Deputy if he could tell the court what the legal elements of the crime known as fraud were. Mr. Deputy could not recall them. He said that he did not remember technical things such as that. Mr. Big Time Attorney asked him to recall just one of the elements of fraud. Mr. Deputy was unable to. Those fun days are documented in The Alternative in detail.
Although the prosecution was on the run, they still kept up the gutter maneuvers. They made a motion to have Dennis re-jailed that was nearly laughingly rejected by the judge. Mr. Researcher eventually came out of hiding, testifying to the threats he received and what he saw happen in his office on the day of the raid. Mr. Deputy was "too sick" to testify at the prosecutorial misconduct hearing, which held up the proceedings for months. Dennis is fairly certain that Mr. Deputy spent those months not on his sick bed, but receiving coaching for his impending testimony. An investigator for the District Attorney's office pinch-hit for Mr. Deputy, keeping up the dirty work while he was out of commission. Mr. Investigator was Ms. Prosecutor's assistant for the case. He performed the "investigation" used to concoct the motion to have Dennis re-jailed. Mr. Researcher eventually came out of hiding and was subpoenaed by Dennis. He went to the courthouse to see if the subpoena was valid. He was immediately grabbed by Ms. Prosecutor and questioned for hours.
Mr. Investigator attended the questioning session. After Mr. Big Time Attorney took the case, it was really the judge against him. The judge put words in Ms. Prosecutor's mouth from time to time. She was along for the ride after that, following orders. Although the judge was not going to nakedly play kangaroo court judge, he still had his orders to get Dennis convicted of something.
Mr. Researcher had a few conversations with Mr. Investigator during those months. While Mr. Deputy was "ill," Mr. Big Time Attorney drove all the way from San Diego (an eight-hour round trip) for the hearing, only to be told that Mr. Deputy was too ill to testify. Those days spent driving back and forth from San Diego apparently was a stalling tactic, designed to eat up Dennis' legal funds. Mr. Investigator even frankly admitted it to Mr. Researcher. During those delays, Mr. Investigator had a conversation with Mr. Researcher where he said the judge said there was no way he would throw the case out, no matter how much prosecutorial misconduct there was. Mr. Investigator then said, "The defense must be out a lot of money with all the delays. Lawyers coming all the way from San Diego cost a lot of money. Where are they getting the money to do this? What is Dennis going to do when his money runs out?"
At one point, Mr. Researcher asked Mr. Investigator, "Has it ever occurred to you that Dennis Lee just might be innocent?" Mr. Investigator made the memorable reply: "I could not care less if he is innocent. I am paid to get convictions." Mr. Researcher said that the prosecution's case appeared to be built on lies and deception, and Mr. Investigator said, "Sure we lie. Everybody lies. I will do however much lying I feel is necessary to get that conviction." Mr. Investigator was trying to disabuse Mr. Researcher of any fairy-tale notions regarding the legal system. He was voicing notions probably held by most prosecutors across America, but only in Ventura could they be heard saying it aloud. Mr. Researcher has used Mr. Investigator's words ever since in the courtroom, in front of the judge, when he has been summoned for jury duty. He is immediately dismissed from duty when repeating Mr. Investigator's words.
Mr. Big Time Attorney became so disgusted by the constant gutter maneuvers by Ms. Prosecutor that he filed a suit in federal court on April 18, 1990, suit number 90-1942, suing the county officials for their many criminal and unethical acts while prosecuting Dennis. For instance, during his first day in court he told the judge that he could not yet legally defend Dennis in California, because the California Bar had not yet issued him his license. The DA's office immediately called the Bar, accusing Mr. Big Time Attorney of practicing without a license. His license was held up for months due to their interference. Ms. Prosecutor never gave Mr. Big Time Attorney a copy of her motions before the hearings, as was normal and ethical in the legal profession. Instead, he would be handed them as Ms. Prosecutor would begin arguing her motions in court. That was one of the many gutter maneuvers they used.
Some of the crimes Mr. Deputy and friends committed were identical to what the IRS agents did while prosecuting his client, and Mr. Big Time Attorney beat the IRS in the U.S. Supreme Court over it. He was rubbing his hands together, expecting to tear them up in federal court, but the IRS' political muscle paled compared to whatever was behind Dennis' prosecution. He called a press conference when he filed the federal lawsuit, and had Dennis contact all the Los Angeles media to get them to be there. They all told Dennis that they would. Mr. Big Time Attorney said that the press always came when he gave a press conference. Nobody showed up. As Mr. Big Time Attorney sat on the federal courthouse steps in downtown Los Angeles with Dennis, amazed that no media showed up to his press conference, across the street was a camera crew for a Los Angeles TV station. Mr. Big Time Attorney crossed the street and introduced himself to the TV reporter. He said, "I don't know what you are covering here, but it can't be as newsworthy as what is going on across the street. I am suing Ventura County legal officials for their gross violations of my client's civil rights... ." The reporter surprisingly answered, "Yes sir, Mr. Big Time Attorney, I know who you are. I am aware that you called a press conference for today. I saw the invitation on my editor's desk, and I asked him if I could cover it, but instead I was assigned to cover the story that I am covering right now. Yes, your story looked far more interesting than what I am covering, but I report on what I am told to. Sorry."
One rude awakening that Mr. Big Time Attorney had was discovering how deeply ingrained the corruption in California was. Mr. Big Time Attorney had worked mostly in the Eastern federal courts. Gangsters run the West Coast federal courts, literally. As documented in Gary Wean's There's a Fish in the Courthouse, he discovered the federal courts' corruption. Wean wrote about seeing an aspiring young attorney regularly hanging out with the Jewish gangster Mick Cohen. The man was a protégé of Cohen's. Gary saw him with Cohen regularly during his LAPD duties. Today that man is a judge in the ninth district federal court. I still see his name in the news from time to time. The man is a gangster. Gary's book describes the many criminal enterprises the man has engaged in, using the power of his position to swindle the public and others out of millions, if not billions, of dollars.
Mr. Big Time Attorney found out how the land lay when they not only threw his federal case out of court, but also threatened to disbar him if he refiled it. Mr. Big Time Attorney received a harsh education. He thought he had seen it all, but Dennis' case taught him some hard lessons about who really runs America. In the end, there was too much pressure being brought to bear on Dennis' case from high places. The judge eventually held a legal gun against Mr. Big Time Attorney's head, essentially telling Dennis that he would bankrupt Mr. Big Time Attorney unless Dennis did a plea bargain. Dennis pled guilty to not filing the form and paying the fifty dollars, but part of the deal was having the higher courts rule on the constitutionality of the law as it applied to his case. When Dennis pled guilty to not filing the form, the District Attorney himself came to the courtroom three times that day, and sat in the audience while Dennis affirmed his deal with the judge. The DA's presence was so startling that the courtroom's bailiff told Dennis, "I have been a bailiff here for eight years, and I had never seen the DA in person before today. Now he comes here three times today for your case. Who are you?" Mr. Skeptic says that Dennis' claims of being persecuted are a "delusion."
Dennis suspected it would happen, and the courts violated their deal, all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court. They maneuvered strangely on Dennis' case, all the way up the chain of appeals, and in late 1992, Dennis had to go to prison for more than a year for not filing a form. For his "violation" of a civil law, and fabrications in his file about his past, Dennis was put into prison with murderers. It may have been a parting shot from his friends in Ventura County. Dennis was nearly murdered in prison, and the guards put him in that position. That he was even in that prison was incredible. Dennis was "lucky," and only had some fingers broken and teeth knocked out.
His being in a medium security prison for an unintentional "violation" of a civil law was so bizarre that the director of the Little Hoover Commission, a commission trying to reform the California prison system, showed up at Dennis' prison unannounced, to interview Dennis. Who knows how much the Little Hoover Commission's interest influenced what happened next, but Dennis was quickly transferred to a minimum-security prison where he served out his remaining months. Being railroaded into spending two years behind bars for "violating" a civil law was not the end for Dennis. His case set precedents and received special attention all the way. He did not get off parole until 1997. There were irregularities with his parole, but he slipped through the net. Ventura County originally tried forcing Dennis to serve his parole in Ventura County, where he would have undoubtedly soon enjoyed Mr. Deputy's hospitality again, and they could have tried again to put him away for life. Dennis' wife penetrated the bureaucracy however, and had his parole transferred to New Jersey, where she and her children had been living for years. That was how Dennis escaped California's clutches. He was on parole for years, and was suddenly and illegally put back on parole for another year after he was off it, when he began doing national speaking tours.
One last item is of interest. Within a few months of Dennis being hoodwinked by the judge into making the plea bargain that was never honored, the judge suddenly retired, and was subsequently promoted to a higher court. Ms. Prosecutor became a judge herself. All for a job well done? How deep it all went is anybody's guess.
In the May 1992 edition of PC World is an in-depth investigation published under the title: "SCAM! How a group of Los Angeles mail order companies ripped off consumers, distributors, banks, and publishers and why they're getting away with it." The article was illuminating.
In Ventura, Dennis was selling information kits by mail order, and advertising nationally to do it. When people ordered the kits, we sent them. Nobody ever paid for their kit and got nothing, and if they felt their kit was not what they expected, we gave them 10 days to mail back their kit (at our expense) for a full refund, a commitment we always honored. After the raid, we even gave everybody a chance to get their money back, and some took us up on it.
Below is the situation that PC World documented. A group of Los Angeles con men set up mail order computer businesses where the consumer could mail-order a computer or accessories. The con men ran their ads in national computer magazines, alongside other vendor ads. Their prices were low, but not ridiculously so. The consumers then ordered the products by calling the number in the ad, paying by check or credit card. No product ever came. The company simply took the money and ran. Their scam was taking place at the same time that Dennis was in jail in Ventura, one county away. One of their offices was a few miles from where Dennis was arrested.
The con men would set up a facade corporation to take orders and money. When they had collected a few hundred thousand dollars from the duped consumers, they would shut down the company. A few months or weeks later, another company would spring up in LA and perform the same scam. PC World undertook an extensive investigation. PC World estimated that its readers were out $450,000 on responding to the scam's ads in PC World alone. PC World was being victimized itself, as the companies never even paid for their ads.
PC World was not the only group investigating the scam; there were other groups also investigating, as many people were being stung. Those con men had been at it for years. The investigations yielded their identities, and the article outlined the trail they traveled in setting up one phony company after another. It was all documented, down to the handwriting analysis of nineteen fictitious business statements filed by the conspirators, twelve in the same penmanship. They were nailed down to their underwear. They had no defense. Comparing their undeniable crimes to Dennis' situation, one might think those boys would be put away for a long, long time. They were blatantly defrauding the consumer and making millions of dollars.
In a summary chart of what consumers can do about being had by such scams, PC World lists who to contact if they have been had. Then they list the law enforcement agencies they themselves contacted to try getting some prosecution done. Not one law enforcement agency picked up the ball placed in their laps. The men were not being prosecuted by anybody. The excuses the law enforcement agencies gave for not prosecuting were interesting. The California Attorney General "punts to other agencies." The U.S. Postal Inspector's Office "pleads overwhelming case load." The LA City Attorney "rejects cases from individuals." The Federal Trade Commission "doesn't act on individual cases." The Secret Service (which actually does have jurisdiction in such a case) "puts lives of presidential candidates above your pocketbook." Most poignantly, the local police "can't afford to fly in out-of-state fraud victims to testify." In LA they could not afford it, but in Ventura they sure could.
A great deal has been left out of this story. The essay was perhaps the most emotionally difficult part of this site to write and edit. I have used names such as Mr. Deputy, Mr. Big Time Attorney, etc., to protect people's privacy, and I am not into naming names, even "public servants" such as Mr. Deputy, who committed monstrous crimes in his efforts to protect the energy racket. If it really matters to anybody, all those identities are easily discovered if the story is researched. I wish nobody any harm, even the "bad guys."
I moved to Ohio soon after Dennis made his plea-bargain. I staggered out of Ventura, realizing that whatever I was taught about the world did not remotely jibe with my experiences. I spent the next twelve years figuring it out, and this web site is the fruit of that investigation.
The Journey Continues
I wrote this epilogue in November 2005. Dennis tried to rebuild his venture but his companies failed. I watched a number of attempts to steal his companies after the Ventura days. I have mostly remained on the sidelines, this site being where I focused my efforts. Dennis is still at it, and can never be totally counted out, but is now trying the religion route to free energy. Mr. Professor died in 2002, his life shortened by his involvement in my adventures. He never recovered from the complications of his diabetes that spun out of control during the Ventura nightmare (as with me, going bankrupt was a minor inconvenience when compared to the other dynamics). He reluctantly admitted to me that those events contributed to his health's deterioration, which was a remarkable admission, as he was saintly and the epitome of the strong, silent type, never complaining about anything. I attended his funeral in North Dakota, and he was buried near his family's farm. His widow told me that if she had not taken him to Mexico for treatment, he would have spent the last ten years of his life without his legs.
As his widow made her final goodbyes to his body in the funeral parlor, I sat in the viewing gallery, went into a meditative state and saw Mr. Professor in his heaven, which looked like a cross between North Dakota and Alaska (his favorite recreational venue). One day, I will visit his heaven and do the things that his health prevented us from doing. While I was meditating, I had a startling, unexpected vision that he seemed to send me. I later related the vision to his wife, and she replied that what I saw was one of his favorite scenes while on earth (probably when he felt the most spiritual). I suppose that was some compensation, hearing that he was doing fine on the other side of the veil, but the finality of watching his broken body being buried will always haunt me.
While I said goodbye to his body, a realization hit me that I had never suspected before: the first time that voice spoke in my head, it was about a lot more than changing my career path; it was to meet Mr. Professor, who was the reason I went into accounting. The first time the voice radically changed my career path, and the second time it led me straight into Dennis' company. It can be said that I asked for it, but I hope I never hear from that voice again. I suffered and continue to endure great personal devastation that my public writings only hint at. Seeing countless lives wrecked by the Big Boys as they play their "rule in hell" game, while "average people" have eagerly performed most of the Big Boys' dirty work for them, has been a nightmare.
The terror attacks of September 11, 2001 coincided with what seems to be beginning of the second stage of my mid-life crisis, a stage that has yet to finish. For its first two years, my mid-life crisis was about my thirty-year journey being futile, as far as healing the planet goes. The past four years has been watching George Bush the Second and his neoconservative cabal take America and maybe the world on a sleigh ride to hell, as America leads the world to the brink of World War III. All for oil and empire, with barely a glimmer of sentience or integrity evident among my fellow Americans. I am way beyond tired of the emotional agony. I was coaxed out of my seclusion to begin some free energy activism in early 2003, but it was very disappointing. I found that virtually nobody on earth has what it takes to pursue free energy in today's environment, which was the answer I never wanted to hear. I am in deep seclusion these days. More than ever, I realize that the scarcest commodity on earth is personal integrity, but is the only thing that will rescue us from ourselves. The only way I see out of this global nightmare is for people to reach deeply inside themselves and find some integrity (another way to say it is "caring for others").
I was originally planning to spend my free time in 2006 and 2007 re-editing my site and adding significant new material, but those close to me have informed me that I am in poor emotional shape to undertake that task, an assessment I have to agree with. The last couple months of 2005 saw me doing minor editing of my site - to correct the more glaring grammatical errors - add a little new material and smooth out some rough spots. Maybe by 2010 I will finally finish my site in a satisfying manner. I do not want any more adventures. A quiet life is about all I seek anymore.
 In the world of capitalism and economics, "wealth" is a concept of value. For instance, if I have to work four hours a day to obtain my food one year, and in a later year I only have to work two hours a day to procure that food, I am wealthier, as I am getting the same goodies for less effort. Wealth is considered to be a real thing. Gold and money are not wealth, but symbols of it. In speaking of "real wealth," when I asked if we were increasing the world's wealth, it was an economist's way of asking if there was a net benefit to the world from our efforts. Increasing the "world's real wealth" was a common phrase in business and economics, but not commonly heard outside of those professions. The question I asked was a cliché in the business, something every first-year accounting student hears.
 See John Robbins' Diet for New America, p. 67, where Fred C. Haley, the president of a 225,000-hen poultry firm in Georgia states, "The object of producing eggs is to make money. When we forget this objective, we have forgotten what is all about." The drive for profit has brought us the hellish institution of factory farming, where pigs, chickens, sheep and cattle live nightmare lives in the quest for the most profitable meat.
 As it stands today, the federal government will pay about $32 billion per year for the next thirty years to clean up the S&L disaster, which translates to perhaps $400 billion in today's dollars, depending on the interest rates applied. The original price tag was about $157 billion, but it was funded with long term bonds, increasing the price. See Zepezauer and Naiman, Take the Rich Off Welfare, pp. 45-52.
 See Steven Wilmsen's Silverado, Neil Bush and the Savings and Loan Scandal for a blow-by-blow account of a scandal in the making. The same kinds of accounting fraud I saw on my audit was standard operating procedure throughout the industry. Silverado was just one of the boys.
 See Rodney Stich's Defrauding America, pp. 165-194, and Pete Brewton's The Mafia, CIA and George Bush and Stephen Pizzo's Inside Job for the scandal in general.
 Based on the Federal Reserve Survey of Consumer Finances. See Holly Sklar's "Let Them Eat Cake", Z Magazine, November 1998, pp. 29-32.
 My Quest is available from United Community Services of America, 3002 Rt. 23 North, Newfoundland, NJ 07435.
 See The Alternative, exhibit 1F for the Attorney General's list of stolen documents they had in their possession, which the BPA hit man gave them.
 See the affidavit by the financier in The Alternative (available from United Community Services of America, 3002 Rt. 23 North, Newfoundland, NJ 07435), exhibit 1J.
 After I raised money, we brought Mr. Engineer out to Boston from Washington, where he had worked with Dennis for years, including the Seattle company.
 Ackerman, Jerry. "Moon's helium holds promise as fuel". Boston Globe, March 2, 1987. The article presented the views of scientist Gerald Kulcinski who had an idea for mining helium 3 (an isotope of helium) from the moon, a project he estimated would cost $15 trillion. The Globe never mentioned us.
 See The Alternative, exhibit 1N.
 See affidavit sworn out by our employee in The Alternative, exhibit 1P.
 See affidavits regarding the espionage carried out during the raid by those who witnessed it in The Alternative, exhibits 2B, 2C, and 2D.
 See The Alternative, exhibit 4F.
 See The Alternative, exhibit 1C.
 For what it is worth, the pinch hitter was tall, blonde, attractive and buxom. Who knows how much that related to her qualifications in being so valuable to the AG?
 See The Alternative, exhibit 4C.
 A superb essay on uranium mining's impacts on America's native population is Ward Churchill's "Cold War Impacts on Native North America" in his A Little Matter of Genocide, pp. 289-362.
 See O'Leary. Miracle in the Void.
 O'Leary, Miracle in the Void, p. 73.
 See Dennis' description of that meeting in The Alternative, p. 20.
 Niccoló Machiavelli, The Prince, chapter 6. Quote from Bondanella and Musa, editors and translators, The Portable Machiavelli, p. 94.
 See an account of Sparky's tale in Jeane Manning's The Coming Energy Revolution, chapter 6.
 See Terry Hansen's The Missing Times, pp. 53-54.
 Donald Michael, et al., of the Brookings Institute, Proposed Studies on the Implications of Peaceful Space Activities for Human Affairs, p. 225.
 Donald Michael, et al., of the Brookings Institute, Proposed Studies on the Implications of Peaceful Space Activities for Human Affairs, p. 216.
 Donald Michael, et al., of the Brookings Institute, Proposed Studies on the Implications of Peaceful Space Activities for Human Affairs, p. 217.
 See The Alternative, exhibit 3A.
 See The Alternative, exhibit 3L and 4L.
 Very early on, after a very polished performance gained him access to our inner circle, Mr. Texas began acting like the kind Dennis has encountered many times before: an opportunist that Dennis could not turn his back on. In July 1988, when Dennis was in jail with his $750,000 bail, Mr. Texas unmasked himself to Dennis during a phone call from Mr. Professor's house, while the trio was there. The trio was essentially demanding that Dennis turn his company over to them, or they would destroy it (as they worked closely with Mr. Deputy). During the heated discussion, Mr. Texas got on the phone and Dennis said, "Tell me what you want, and you will get it." Mr. Texas then engaged in a charade for the benefit of those in the room but could not hear Dennis' end of the line. Mr. Texas engaged in a fake argument with Dennis, acting like Dennis was on the other end, being belligerent. Mr. Texas ended his performance with something like, "Dennis, stop being a maniac and listen for once!" and then slammed down the phone. Dennis listened from the jail in shocked silence, knowing that Mr. Texas had unmasked himself (to Dennis, at least) and was playing his hand. Dennis knew from that moment forward that Mr. Texas was going to attempt the same shenanigans that Bill the BPA Hit Man had, and thought that Mr. Texas was probably another paid provocateur. Mr. Texas indeed engaged in the same stunts that Bill had, but in light of his 2003 arrest, it looks like Mr. Texas was just a free-lance criminal, probably not hired to do what he did in Ventura.
 A quote from Howard Scott sums up America's entrepreneurial waters: "A criminal is a person with predatory instincts without sufficient capital to form a corporation."
 Typical of the sheriff's department's criminal activity, Mr. Deputy's interview of Mr. Researcher took place in a county interrogation room where they secretly recorded the conversation. When we had heard about the interview, we demanded a copy of the tape. The session lasted four or five hours, according to Mr. Researcher. After an hour or so, when the conversation had been fairly cordial, Mr. Deputy began getting belligerent, eventually shouting at Mr. Researcher, yelling at him that he did not "know anything" and that if he testified in Dennis' defense, he would immediately become a suspect himself. When the sheriff's department reproduced the tape of the session, they only reproduced the first hour, mysteriously "losing" the rest. I wish I had a dollar for every instance I have seen of law enforcement "losing" evidence that would expose their corruption.
 See The Alternative, exhibit 4B.
 See The Alternative, exhibit 3M. He told that to our two best salesmen.
 See the law and Dennis' "Cure Tour" schedule in The Alternative, exhibit 2G and 2H..
 I have copy of a letter from Ms. Prosecutor to Dennis' attorney, dated January 4, 1990, saying that Mr. Researcher was amazed I would deny it "under oath."
 Gary Wean's There's a Fish in the Courthouse chronicles the hair-raising corruption in Ventura County.
 See My Quest, pp. 455-456.
 See My Quest, pp. 456.
 See The Alternative, exhibits 3M, 3N, 3Q and 3R regarding threats Mr. Deputy made to employees and witnesses. Those affidavits were in that legal mail package. See also exhibits 3H, 3I, 3J, 3K, 3L and 3P for other evidence of Mr. Deputy's malfeasance, particularly evidence that he was working closely with Mr. Texas to take the company down.
 Christopher Bird wrote of Brown extensively, and died before writing his planned autobiography of Brown. He had a series of articles published in raum & zeit, in 1992 (vol. 3, #s 2, 3 and 6). U.S. Congressman Daniel Haley investigated the Department of Energy demonstration and its amazing attempt to explain away what their Geiger counters told them. He relates the results of his investigation in Planetary Association for Clean Energy, Inc.'s July 6, 1993 issue.
 See The Alternative, exhibit 5E.
 Naturally, with that conversation, I can be accused of taking some poetic license by putting in quotes what is likely not the verbatim conversation. It was the essence of the conversation, and I was not there to hear it, but heard it later from Dennis, who was there with the attorney when it happened. In a few places I put words in quotes that I cannot prove are verbatim conversation, but you can tell where I do it, I believe. If I footnote it, I refer to where it can be found in writing. There is no place where I have put something in quotes that does not nearly capture the conversation word for word. For instance, when that lawyer who gave Dennis the check for $10,000 while telling Dennis that Ed Meese said that he was "squeaky clean," the lawyer himself made special emphasis that Meese indeed said "squeaky clean." When I said that Ms. Prosecutor said that if Dennis pled guilty to all charges, she would see to it that he would not get the death penalty, she said those words, although maybe a "that" or "and" is missing from her verbatim words.
 See The Alternative, exhibit 9E.
 Here are a couple of examples of attempts to steal Dennis' companies after the Ventura days. The first I witnessed in 1992, when Dennis was trying to tie into Wall Street money and talent for a public relations campaign. He flew me out to Las Vegas to attend a conference of hundreds of his joint-venture partners. One conference speaker owned a company that offered organizational assistance to the partners. At the conference, Dennis introduced the speaker and said how impressive the man's commitment was, as he attended on "his own nickel" and even brought along some of his staff. When the conference was finished I flew back home to Ohio, and in the row in front of me was that man and his staff, heading home to New York. I kept a low profile at the conference and they did not know who I was. I just read in my seat. As we approached the landing in Columbus, I put my book away and stared into space ahead of me, daydreaming. Next to the conference speaker and directly in front of me was one of his employees, who I recognized from the conference. As I was staring into space, that staff member held up a yellow legal pad in front of my eyes. He was probably admiring his handiwork, composed during the plane flight, but the words leapt off the page into my passive eyes. He had written an outline of "The Plan to Rape and Pillage [Dennis' joint venture partners]". It was a four-part plan to entice Dennis' partners away. The man probably realized that he should not have held up his masterpiece where others could see it, and quickly looked over his shoulder and realized that I had probably seen his plan. The plane landed a few minutes later and I raced through the airport, looking over my shoulder, hoping that nobody was coming after me. I called Dennis immediately and told him what I had seen. When the conference speaker called Dennis the next day, eager to take the next steps in their relationship, Dennis asked him about his "rape and pillage" plan. The man tried explaining it away, but Dennis never heard back from the conference speaker.
The second attempt was actually a few dozen attempts, but they all made the same play. In 1996, Dennis mounted two national tours. During those tours Dennis hooked up with Yull Brown and he promoted Yull and his technology like nobody has before or since. Brown was planning on transmuting radioactive material during the tour's final show, which was held in the arena where the Philadelphia 76-ers played. Five thousand people attended that show. Brown was the main attraction, and for the rest of his days Brown continually replayed the video of the standing ovation that that crowd showered upon him. In the weeks before that show, more than thirty of Dennis' business associates called Yull to try enticing him away from Dennis before the show. Yull politely took the names and phone numbers of those contacting him with their offers and then gave Dennis the list. Those are two of more than a dozen examples that I could present of incompetent attempts to steal Dennis' companies.
 Dennis and I were among several people (including other former students) who offered our organs to Mr. Professor for transplant. Mr. Professor declined all the offers, saying that he would only accept organ donations (a kidney and perhaps part of our pancreas) from those who were as "old and useless" as he was.
 In early 2003, I was coaxed out of my seclusion by a number of people and began a little free energy activism. I was invited into an alternative energy Internet forum that was populated by scientists, engineers and other technical professionals. Long ago I decided to specialize in the political-economic aspects of the free energy issue, and my first post to that forum briefly described my adventures. The most common reaction to the billion-dollar bribe we received has been silence, but the engineer who dominated that forum replied in a way reminiscent of Monty Python's Argument Clinic. His response was "No you didn't!" I lay out plenty of evidence so people can assess the story and investigate further. I replied that I was reporting my experiences, and that if he wanted to call me a liar he could, but that he should do some homework before doing so. The engineer then dismissed me as a "conspiracy theorist." Such an ad hominem attack was irrational at best, as reporting one's experiences has nothing to do with any theory. The forum moderator evidenced a bit more intelligence and open-mindedness by telling me that he would read some of my work before forming his opinion. I heard from him a few weeks later, and he said that putting political information into my work on free energy was inappropriate, which demonstrated that he completely missed the point of my work. The political-economic aspect of the free energy dynamic is why we do not have free energy. That understanding appears beyond the reach of nearly all the scientists, engineers and technical professionals that I have encountered in the alternative energy community.
The scientific corollary to the most common and naïve response that that I receive to the idea of free energy is, "If free energy machines existed, I should be able to buy one and scientifically study it. Otherwise, I have no reason to believe that free energy machines exist." When I have tried coaxing those scientists out of their armchairs and get them actually investigate the situation, I have never been successful. Their soft berths in academia and in corporate America have proven too comfortable. To believe that somebody is going to drop a free energy machine in your lap, so your testing lends them credibility, is to know absolutely nothing about how the real world of alternative energy works. The genuine technology is removed from circulation almost immediately.
In early 2006, after I published my free energy conundrum essay, I made attempts to engage various groups in discussion of the free energy issue. My attempts also triggered some sites to present parts of my work. My early 2006 experiences were so dismaying that some radical left writings and other sources finally became clear to me. My work does not dance around the free energy issue. My summary of the situation is direct and succinct, and I posted summaries of my work in forums where it had previously been discussed (in a deficient manner), and hoped to engage in some worthwhile discussion. The responses astounded me. I learned long ago that general public forums were not the place to discuss my work, so I have sought a few audiences that I hoped could engage in rational and honest discussion of the issues. My expectations were not high, as I have interacted with people for twenty years on the issue, and have encountered very few who truly understood. Forums devoted to suppressed technologies and sites devoted to free energy pioneers seemed to hold some promise. I could not have been more wrong. In early 2006, I made posts that briefly discussed my points and linked to places in my work that supported my contentions (as well as some private emails to people who were supposedly familiar with the milieu). The forum respondents completely ignored my writings and links, acting as if they were not there, and then regurgitated their physics textbooks to show why free energy was "impossible," and even presented sites unrelated to the points I was making, presenting them as what I was arguing for. It was so bizarre that I had to reassess what I was seeing. It was tempting to think those respondents had low intelligence or were dishonest, but I think I was seeing something else. The respondents were able to write proper sentences and make somewhat coherent arguments and cite their textbooks, but their responses had nothing to do with my arguments and evidence, yet they acted as if they had rebutted and dismantled my work. As with that engineer who irrationally dismissed me as a conspiracy theorist, I believe I was seeing how the ego defends itself from information that threatens its delusions. They lashed out from deep-seated (and unconscious) fear, and I am sure those respondents thought they were being rational and even giving my work a fair hearing, even though they failed to acknowledged even reading it. Calling it denial I believe is too simple. I have come to expect those kinds of responses in general forums (which is why I no longer post to them), but was not expecting it in forums supposedly devoted to the issues I wrote about, not to the uniform degree I saw it. In one of the forums, there was not even one response that evidenced any consideration of my work. I have not contacted every potential group on earth, but there are only a couple left on my list that I think might have promise.
Ed Herman has criticized the writings of establishment pundits for many years, and has regularly shown how they effortlessly perform logical summersaults to defend the indefensible acts of their rich and powerful patrons, while trying to appear rational and ethical. Ed has written that those pundits were incapable of acknowledging what was so obvious to everybody else (because, I believe, the admission would expose how completely they have sold their souls). I believe Ed was describing the same thing I have seen for many years. Virtually nobody on earth today seems capable of honestly and rationally engaging the free energy conundrum, but rationality and honesty appear to have little to do with it, although defending egocentric delusions are not acts of integrity. The free energy situation's reality is simply too threatening to people's cherished fantasies of how the world works, and they will avoid the implications at all costs. The vast majority simply stays in denial so complete they will never become aware of the situation. I was able to understand them and do not engage them. But it has taken me many years to finally understand those who fancied they had open minds and even proclaimed familiarity with the situation. They have what one friend has called "sophisticated egos." They pride themselves on being reasonable and ethical, but are incapable of being reasonable and ethical when encountering information that threatens their illusions. To say they are incapable of realizing how their world works might seem to absolve them of responsibility, but if virtually nobody on earth is capable of acknowledging the reality of the world they live in, the question then begs to be asked: "Are humans really a sentient species?" And if we are, does sentience mean much?
 Over the years, I have generally kept abreast of what was written about Dennis or my work on the Internet. Dennis has also been the subject of nationally televised shows and many newspaper articles. My work has been discussed in numerous Internet forums, and I have found very few discussions worth joining. The situation has been much worse regarding Dennis' efforts. During the past twenty years, I have never seen an honest, intelligent and informed critique of his efforts. There is plenty to criticize about Dennis' efforts, as with all efforts like his. But almost all of his critics are of the armchair variety, and most of them resort to repeating each other's lies, in the style of Mr. Skeptic, driving home the primary lesson of my journey even more deeply.
One libelous effort has been particularly notable. The critic is a scientist who writes about the free energy situation. He has a multi-faceted approach, much as I do. However, the author libeled Dennis in an essay written in 2001, claiming that Dennis has raised $100 million from his victims over the years. Being a scientist, one might think he would either qualify his "estimate" of what Dennis has raised (an "estimate" that I know is about an order of magnitude askew from reality) or tell the reader how he derived it, or even tell them that it is an estimate, but he presented his wild guess as a fact in an attempt to legitimize what the authorities did to Dennis in Seattle and Ventura. I considered the article another low integrity effort and ignored it. Apparently, because that scientist has some writing talent and experience in the field, that essay has been given to me at least a dozen times, in person and also by email, as the premier commentary on the free energy conundrum, and several times by people who should know better. In 2003, I was invited to join with others an effort to educate the public on the subject matter my work covers, but their free energy information was dominated by that scientist's libel tract. I informed the editor that I could not publicly join an effort that libeled Dennis, and even spent days of my time informing the editor why that tract was libel, and my explanation sailed right over his head. That public effort prominently promotes that libel tract to this day, turning their efforts into disinformation rather than useful information. That scientist has also been informed about his libel and why it is libel. He has not seen fit to retract his libel, which only reinforced my opinion about his integrity level.
I was invited into another educational effort around the same time. To my dismay, I was also handed that scientist's libel tract at one of the organization's meetings, as an example of excellent writing on the issue. That scientist was subsequently invited into that organization's inner circle, even to speak at one of our organizational functions and perhaps even sell his technology through our organization. When I brought up that man's libel (when handed his libel tract) and how he obviously did not have the right stuff to advance the free energy effort, I doubt that anybody in that organization understood my point. They thought that scientist could be "managed," or that maybe he owed Dennis an apology or that they needed to somehow comfort my emotional distress or they had some other excuse. That organization had barely gotten off the ground, and already it was aligning with people that I knew had low integrity (that scientist was not Dennis' only libeler close to the organization). As a group, they did not really understand the integrity issue regarding the pursuit of free energy. I then realized that our effort had little hope of success and left the organization. Without a large nucleus of high integrity people, there is no point in even initiating a free energy effort, unless learning harsh lessons and achieving martyrdom is the purpose. Earth may not currently host enough of those high-integrity people to form that nucleus, but if they do not exist in sufficient numbers, then pursuing free energy is futile in today's environment.
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