Cybercracker War Or Strange Days and Nights Here is what I had conjured up in my hallucinatory and tormented mind: I got hijacked by a worldwide operating cyborg cracker gang called the Tellurian Hounds. I am not the only one, this is a vast organization plotting a world take-over scheme. Via computer generated body models, a few steps beyond films like Strange Days, Brazil or The Manchurian Candidate, these people can enter and control people's homes, bodies, thoughts, psyche and brain. These people make computer generated models of people's bodies, houses, apartments, workplace, the city neighborhood and the like. This group is racist, fascist, sexist and anti-democratic. Their aim is to take over the world. They do this by infecting individuals, getting a hold of individual homes, streets, neighborhoods, cities, countries and so on. This is the most massive new age fascist machine ever to have seen the light of day. All the reactionary intelligence, forces, movements in this world that have ever existed and continue to exist and move on are a part of this Tellurian Hound group.

The world is in a new state of war waged in the cyberspace of today and tomorrow. The surveillance system operates via micro-chip technology inserted in people's bodies and via satellite, from outer space and from within the city with draconian police methods which have fused with civil life. The Israeli-Palestinian conflict, Racism, Apartheid, Anti-Semitism and Sexism have reappeared in a horrific new form.

The Tellurian Hounds work like torturers, depriving their victims of sleep, subjecting them to incessant propaganda, subjecting people to psychological and physical terror. Only this time around how can these people be found and named, this surveillance system has fused with one of the most anonymous and fast spreading systems, the internet and virtual space. Gone are the days where a Paul Robeson was barred from work or a Mossadeg was put under house arrest, today's torturers have a direct hands on their victims and the communities they are trying to break. They implant voices in your head, block your meridians, infect liver and heart and other organs via cyber space technologies. Houses are put under thermal stress, suddenly your pictures are falling from the wall, your body is overheated and how come there are suddenly ashes in the tap water? The air is filled with sot. Via this cyborg terror network bodies, houses, entire neighborhoods can be put under virtual climate changes, suddenly there is gas escaping from your heating system. No more need for gas chambers if "death apartments" exist, "death rooms" in hotels and so on. These people also don't need bulldozers anymore to flatten buildings, via satellite damage can be done to buildings structurally so that they seemingly collapse on their own. A favorite is breaking structural arches, from buildings to bodies. The Tellurian Hounds are based in countries like Argentina, Chile, Honduras, all the places where dictators have found a place of operation. Allied with old Nazis, Right Wing Think Tanks and all the muck of world.

An invisible micro-chip had been added to a drink I had had with a friend months ago. This is not a chip you can hold in your hands, this is a chip the size of an atom. Impossible to get out of your system because there isn't just one, but millions of them. New micro-biology nano technology. Since taking that drink, I am trackable everywhere by the Tellurian Hounds. But not only by them, I am also trackable by the New Age People a highly developed group, democratic and liberal who has the same technology as the enemy but uses it to entirely different ends. Members of the New People go across the board in society and it includes a waitress or taxi driver as much as it includes politicians, FBI, CIA, Secret Service people from around the world, actors, professionals, workers and the like. Added to this, is that the good guys here have abilities the bad guys don't have. They work together with churches, synagogues, temples and mosques and have age old tradition coupled with ultra high modernity to combat this evil.

Here are just some of the things the Tellurian Hounds can do. Implanting voices in the heads of people usually the worst sadist, abusive, racist language. Implanting images in people's heads, images of death and destruction. Cyborg cafes exist where members of the Tellurian Hounds can participate in these sadist practices. Body fluids, light can be drawn from people's bodies via this cybercracker technology. A new form of cannibalism is emerging world wide. The Tellurian Hounds consider themselves the mother of the world. To them there is no God, no spirit, only the great eternal mother devouring her children. It is a sect filled with every crack-pot ideology this planet has ever had to suffer from. Their roots go all the way back to the ice age. They are total materialists whereas the New People are made up of spiritual people who have achieved a new level of being. They can communicate metaphysically. It is called Higher Mind communication. Something the Tellurian Hounds can't do and are jealous of. To them, this must be stopped at all cost. Whilst the New Age People are peace loving and democratic, the Tellurian Hounds are the opposite. Believing in a hackneyed social Darwinism they have devised a system of the survival of the fittest. The Tellurian Hounds try to control the media, education, public health, the resources of the world, technology, and all other imaginable public and private institutions and infrastructure. Their members have grown through the centuries and through all ill willed institutions there have ever been. The Tellurian Hounds are made up of vigilante crusaders, people who believe in the inquisition, anti-republicans, thermidorists, secret societies like black magic groups, the illuminati, mafia, Nazis, white supremacists, white lighting, and every other dangerous and reactionary crack-pot proto-fascist under the sun.

What I have conjured up in my mind is even worse than 1984 or what is portrayed in the film Brazil. It is a totally paranoid conspiracy fantasy fused with phobias about new technologies. Ironically enough, a few months after my psychosis the film "The Manchurian Candidate" was released, which comes pretty close to the nightmares I was having.

My friends let me know that this was going to be an ordeal. Escaping from these people was going to be no easy matter. I am at my desk in my apartment the Tellurian Hounds voiced in my head again and I ask how this is possible. "We occupy certain frequencies and places on earth and in outer space" is the answer "and don't think that anything you do will escape our notice." Apparently the Hounds always try to catch New Ag people around the time of their initiation. With me they had had an easy bate, my not knowing anything of their existence. I should have been more careful I thought to myself. How could I, an informed educated woman, aware of what is going on in society and politics, how could I have been so unaware of what was going on. I accused myself for my own predicament. It still did not occur to me that I was severely mad.

Higher Mind talk with my friends. "Yvonne, this is a very serious situation you are in and we can only help you if you work with us and learn quickly. We have certain things we do to ward of these people, we have made arrangements with them that there are certain things they are not allowed to disturb. First we must get you to transform your body so that you can't be infected by their illnesses. So I am learning to have heart and liver talk. I am running up and down the apartment, chanting:" I have a liver which is made of Gold, it is the seat and strength of God in my body, there is a golden spiral connecting my liver all the way up into the sky. Nothing can harm my liver. I can take out my liver and wash my liver." I am learning how to smoke a new, with the smoke I can draw out any infections the Tellurian Hounds try to infest my body with. "This is good old Semitic smoking, age old remedy against infections. You draw the smoke into your body all the way down to your liver and then push it back out real hard and pointed. This will take out infections as you are going along. But the smoke must be cold. Your apartment is too warm, turn off the heating and let the cold water run so that it becomes cooler, less possibilities of infections being able to unfold." I am running around the apartment turning on all the cold water faucets I have and I let them run day and night for three months. The water bill I received 9 months later is stupendous. But then the mad don't move in the world of water bills and cost-efficiency calculations. All I could think of was what to do in order to make these awful voices and hallucinations stop. There had to be something that I could do to not be the victim of these hounds. I was sure of it.

Back are the hounds again. This time there are women's voices. "We are the white bitches from the Hounds and we are after you. We are going to prepare your brain for the skull crashers. You know of them, well you are certain to find out." Suddenly throbbing banging pulses on my head. I am frantic. Running around the apartment trying to find a place where this pain might stop. After all, had not an arrangement been made with the Hounds that certain areas of the apartment are off limits? My head hurts and there are S+M images running inside my forehead. The most awful scenes with leather and pain and animals and always this brutish laughter after me. "Well, has the little girl had enough, do you want some more?" By this time I am wincing: "Please stop", but the images don't stop. I must have fainted at some point then I woke up half sitting on my bed. "I should not have gone to the bedroom" I am thinking. From then on the bedroom is out of bounds for me and I tell myself that sleeping is not a good idea either because I must stay awake to be aware of what is going on.

My friends are trying to contact me. But the voices are far off, hardly perceptible to me. "Yvonne you must get out of this apartment and get to New York where we can help you. Don't make it look like an escape. Pack what you feel is most important and then calmly go to the airport. I pack books, music, some clothes and toiletries. I am expecting Ivana and Robert to pick me up. I carry the suitcases downstairs and wait by the door. They don't arrive. Something must have happened. So I decide to take a taxi to the airport. At the airport I get a ticket for New York, via Paris. Paris, the city of light, I am all elated. Robert's and my favorite city. At the airport I notice that people don't talk at me directly anymore, but that communication has moved to another dimension, much of the talking at me is done without external communication. Everything has become internal. There is a man walking by, identifies himself as working in an architects office I know, then he squirms at me:" the skull bashers are going to get you". I am scared in anticipation of the pain in my head. Suddenly I see beautiful metal sculptures flying in surrounding my head and I hear a voice saying, this is a present from Richard Serra! I can hear the skull bashers hitting away at the metal, swearing at not being able to reach my head. "We hate you people and your good art" I can hear the hounds screaming. Protected by the most beautiful metal sculpture I walk around the airport feeling completely secure, happy to exist. I enter the plain and land in Paris. Here there is an over night stop before I continue to New York, I thought, in reality I was just about to miss my connection. But then to the mad schedules are an eternal flow of connections, there is no such thing as missing your flight, there is only the question, "well why didn't you wait for me?" At the Paris airport voices again, "we are going to shit on your liver, we are going to eat your heart, Yvonne you have a consumptive heart "and I am walking around the Paris airport chanting my heart and liver talk: " My liver is made of gold, I don't have a consumptive heart " or " I can remove my heart and liver and wash them clean". "My liver and heart are made of gold." I notice people are looking at me talking to myself, but then I figure everyone knows what is going on and I go about attending to what seem to me the important things in life.

Out on the streets of Paris I am convinced that I am to meet Robert. I know where to go. To this day I still don't know in which neighborhood I was, I remember Place de Pigalle, however. I am standing in front of a hotel and go inside claiming that a room had been reserved for me and Robert. The Concierge is at a loss. No room seems to have been reserved. I stood in front of the hotel all night. Thinking that I was working on some new kind of documentary film. My friends were with me and since all things were transparent everything can be seen. The Tellurian Hounds are there the skull bashers whacking away at my head. I am monologing in front of the hotel: "We are working on a film here with new kinds of invisible cameras. Right now my skull is being bashed in by tellurian hounds and they think this can't be seen but it can." "We even can show how this infection works" "Russell out Robert in", I am saying believing that these names evoke special powers of bodily infiltration and exorcisation. (Russell is one of the top hounds I have found out in the meantime) I am convinced standing in front of this hotel I am doing a service to humanity. That this new kind of warfare on bodies can be filmed and documented and that it is being shown at the UN.

Where I spent the rest of the night after the "show" in front of the Pigalle Hotel I don't know, I remember meeting Robert though and sleeping with the angels above the Parisian skies inside a twenty ton Concrete sculpture, laid ready for Robert and me by the angels, so that the voices of the tellurian hounds could no longer reach me. The French angels are very cute, they look like punks, wear torn stockings, safety pins holding their clothes together and with earrings in their left ear. Some have blue hair, others have their hair died pink.

The next day I am walking the streets believing that Robert is waiting for me in one of the houses on the square, I just have to find out which one. I walk one street all day long thinking that the right door will show itself to me when it is open. I walk the street until the evening, up and down, up and down, until a kind black man takes me in to his apartment and lets me sleep the night on his sofa. That night I hallucinate that my consumptive heart is taken away by a winged angel flying into the window taking it out. The scene is like in a Caravaggio painting. I can see the angel and the light emanating from it clearly. The fire in my heart region, accompanying consumptive hearts, is all but gone. A tremendous physical relief sets in. The next morning I feel as good as I have not in years. I am on my way to the airport and there are Arab taxi drivers on either side of my taxi, I am convinced there is a Sufi reconstruction going on of my tormented body. The infection had caused a vertical collapse in my brain, my muscles were all feeling like they were about to cave in. I was sure that the infection I had was slowly making my body disintegrate. At the airport a sudden wave of light suffused the entire building. Everything was on fire and so was I. A miraculous reconstruction of my body was taking place and I was sure that this was old Arab doctors working with light doing these miracles. I was eternally grateful. I was walking as if on clouds. Waves of light gushing around me I could feel my body rejuvenating.

Suddenly a nasty voice: "We pushed them away" and suddenly my body felt a total collapse. Haranguing laughter "you thought your Sufi friends would remake what we had undone, hahahha, here we are again working on your vertical collapse. In no time you will have a consumptive heart again and your head will hurt". And sure enough it did. I don't remember how I got to the ticket counter asking for a flight back to Hamburg. Somehow I did and somehow I got on the plain. All the time voices in my head telling me that I was about to die that my insides were being eaten by the tellurian hounds with fist fights in my belly, I could feel the punches.

Back in Hamburg I had lost my luggage and returned back not home at first, but into the streets of the city. I went to a cafe and there people in the cafe were awaiting me. "Yvonne you forgot your key, you're going to have to break back into your apartment. If you don't want the hounds taking it over." And I did not want these awful people taking over my apartment. I felt that I was going to return to occupied territory breaking back into my house. Which is just what I did. Climbing along the balcony of my neighbor I managed to get into my apartment by breaking a window. Back at my apartment I felt safe for the first time in days. My friends were there. "We have been waiting for you. What happened at the airport is a big scandal, you have received some of the most up to date reconstructive medicine from Arab Sufis and you let the hounds destroy it like you are an amateur. We are not sure what to do with this. You have to develop more resistance of your own. But for now you must feel tired and your head needs taking care of." And so it did. My head felt like a baby skull, soft and very fragile. I went to the bathroom and showered gently with warm water rubbing ayurvedic oils I had onto my head. Wrapped in a bath towel turban I returned to my living room falling into a baby like sleep, the first sleep in days I had had.

This essay has been cut short due to word count limits.