E108 Probe Calibration and Training

Let’s discuss my training. This wasn’t the kind of training that you would give to a new class of aviators every few months. This wasn’t the kind of training that involved textbooks, and a class instructor. It was something else entirely.
It was alien to anything that I have ever experienced previously. Here, we discuss what I did at China Lake NWC, and how I underwent training for my particular role.  This training was unique and different; the location itself was unique and different as well.
The entire base was situated up high on top of a raised plateau high up in the mountains.  Perhaps one might go as far as to consider the place to be equivalent to the Chinese Tibet. 

Living in the “High Desert” was a wonderful experience, but not as great and unique as what transpired during my training.  It was during the training that I became more than what I ever thought I was, or ever could be.
This training and events appear impossible to comprehend, but they did happen; over four decades ago…

This is Part #1 of a two-part blog post.
To read Part #2, please go HERE. PART TWO

This post discusses a period of specialized training that I underwent in support of my role within MAJestic. It concerns “calibration” and “adjustment” exercises for a number of probes and devices that were implanted inside my brain. These devices consisted of three “sets”.
One set, was extraterrestrial in nature and performance. The remaining two were terrestrially derived MAJestic implants.

All of the “training” and calibration exercises could ONLY be conducted within a specialized chamber, while all three probe “kits” were engaged.

The training mostly consisted of sitting in a chair inside a huge anechoic chamber.

An anechoic chamber (an-echoic meaning non-reflective, non-echoing or echo-free) is a room or chamber that is designed to completely absorb reflections of either sound or electromagnetic waves. They are also insulated from exterior sources of noise.
The combination of both aspects means they simulate a quiet open-space of (apparent) “infinite dimension”, which is useful when exterior influences would otherwise give false results.

These chambers are quite usefu for testing any item that is sensitive to electromagnetic radiation.

In fact, there wasn’t any formalized classroom training at all.  There were no teachers, or teaching aides.  There were no textbooks, notebooks, or classes.  I only had but one “class mate” which was Sebastian (not his actual name).
This kind of training was unlike any kind of training that I have ever had.

The anechoic chamber was located deep within the China Lake Naval Weapon Center complex.  It was located inside the complex within its own compartmentalized region.  Of course, this base within a base had its own guard and fences as well.
To reach it you had to go through the various checkpoints and guard stations.  You would show the guard your badge and then the guard would log in your identify and cross reference it against a list of approved people who were on the access list for the day.
As you enter into the more restricted and secret areas of the base, the access list becomes more and more exclusive.  Thus allowing for more scrutiny on who goes in and out of the facility.

Once inside the restricted are, you had to enter yet another high security area.  This was the region inside the security zone that was compartmentalized within the research base.
Like all the other guard posts, your identify and your badge is checked against a clearance list to verify that you are who you are represented to be.  Since this is a US Navy base, all the guards are marines.

Wearing desert camo uniforms and carrying holstered 9mm side arms and combat rifles.
(The M9 has been the standard sidearm of the United States Navy, United States Army and the United States Air Force since 1985, replacing the Colt M1911A1 in the Army and Navy and the Smith & Wesson .38 Special in the Air Force.
The M9A1 is also seeing limited issue to the United States Marine Corps.)

They were typically young and in their 20’s. They always carried loaded weapons and side arms.  They were always friendly and professional, but I have no doubt that they wouldn’t hesitate to shoot me dead if I were not who I was supposed to be.

They would always check the contents of the car we were driving in, or the bag that I had with me.  In those days, I often rode to the complex on a motorcycle.  It was great riding my motorcycle out in the desert.
As long as it wasn’t too hot, I would ride to “the Pinnicles” (a curious rock formation) off base, or ride the twisty road to Trona and pass by the “painted dinosaur rocks”. They would thus, check my backpack to see if I was bringing in or out any forbidden or suspicious items.

More than one (contractor) left behind briefcase or bag was detonated “sight unseen” for the purposes of safety.  (In those days, we typically carried a rectangular briefcase of the traditional 1960’s style.
A handful of people carried a backpack, but they were rare at that time.)  Mostly, I just carried a homemade lunch with me in my briefcase.  I typically strapped it to the back of the motorcycle using bungee cords.   I never had any problems with the guards.

When I rode up to the gate, they would want to see my badge.  They would then look at it, and then compare it to the clipboard.  Then note when I arrived or left in the log.  Then they would wave me forward and beyond.
I would say that it never really took more than a minute or two for them to process me.  The particular zone or region that I was part of was not a very heavily traveled location.  There might be a handful of people with access to that area.  Perhaps a total of twenty or so.
So they would look on the clipboard, and see that I was who I was and let me go.

The waiting was usually due to all the other people in the various cars and trucks before me.  The base was very large and sprawling and as such, there were many, many people that would go in and out of it.
It was the duty of the marines to make sure that access was restricted to only those who had legitimate business on the base.

On entering or leaving the base there was generally a small line of cars and trucks that had to be “processed”.  This meant a check of the ID badge, and confirmation of our purpose on the base. They also would check our bags, the trunk of a car or the back of a truck.
It didn’t take too long.  At most, I would say perhaps fifteen minutes would pass while I sat there on my black motorcycle sweltering in the hot desert sun.

The facility that I was trained at was an anechoic chamber located within a special ELF test range.  (A test range is a special name that simply refers to an area where tests are constructed.  They may or may not have distances “ranged out” for calibration exercises.
For instance, like a “rifle range”.)  It was NOT a dedicated teaching facility.  It was an engineering test facility that was used to test experiments.

During my stay at the facility, it was repurposed for ELF calibration and training for specific MAJestic members (in this particular program) so equipped with Core Kit #2 probes. Our roles were truly unique as no other members required this kind of “training”.

Like many high tech facilities, this was located in a remote part of the base.
(The base was divided into ranges, or test centers, often separated from each other by miles of open desert.)  It consisted of a simple little cluster of buildings in the middle of an immense stretch of flat desert.
To an outside observer you might not have any clue as to what it was.  On the outside, it looked like any cluster of buildings in the desert.
Moreover, like the desert in the Mojave, all the buildings were surrounded with boxes, crates, strange equipment, debris and a mix of old and new things that never rusted or corroded in the hot desert heat.  Everything looked new, though they tended to be faded and dusty.

To get to the complex you drove on this flat road that went far off into the distance in the wide and desolate desert. This road, aside from a couple of turns around some more or less low hills, was straight.
Once you reached to the top of a local crest, after the last security gate, you could see the road stretch off into the distance like a straight arrow.  Off in the distance it would continue towards another group of low hills.
On both sides of the road were the low shrubs, sage brush and rocks, stone and sand so characteristic of the local region.  Eventually, there in the middle of the desert sat a cluster of buildings, stationary vans, and portable offices.
From the crest it looked like a small remote pin point of objects.  As such, it would take a good fifteen minutes to drive to it.
The buildings and gear all clustered around a big warehouse prefab building that housed the chamber, and the two electronic labs that occupied the space.

As you rode down the hot asphalt road (on the way to the test facility) you would see the cluster to your right.  It sat off a moderate sized parking lot.  With perhaps, three to five cars parked there typically.  Often times, I was nearly alone at the facility.
If I had no scheduled training, and no one was there, I would often sit there inside, reading a manual or killing time waiting for others to arrive.

Hollywood likes to present a stereotypical image of secret, high technology programs.  They envision heavily armed guards, men and women with black sunglasses, ear phones, and lots and lots of gates, fences, and glass.
Glass everywhere… it seems.  Nice and shiny chrome or brushed metal electronics.  Hollywood makes you think that this is what high technology and research are.  They give you the impression that there are attractive scientists and specialists who operate this equipment.

Maybe there is a quirky or colorful person who is brilliant, but a little eccentric there.
They portray an area that is all high technology with all kinds of cool and mysterious scientific apparatus, with plasma and LCD displays, with brilliant white sterile hallways, and device filled dark rooms and all kinds of cool people wearing trendy clothes and white lab coats.
Always very attractive, with usually a “hot” blonde girl who was brilliant but unobtainable (from a dating point of view).

The geniuses tend to be in the early 20’s typically just out of college, and anyone who is older is portrayed as really old with white hair, balding and “out of touch” with the rest of the scientific community.  Such is stereotypical Hollywood.
They give you the impression that it had all kinds of electric eye and key-activated pass-codes and things like that…

But, I tell you the truth, Hollywood hasn’t a clue! The reality was really, really different. Well, at least in the 1980’s it was.

In the world of Hollywood, the stereotypical scientist and engineer wears a white lab coat, a magnetic card reader badge, and tends to be a bit eccentric.  They are the geniuses of the sterile metallic and glass monoliths that they inhabit.
They are portrayed as geniuses who are completely out of touch with the world outside their sterile domain.

Well, for one thing, the hallways were plain.  They were government hallways for goodness sakes!
For those of you who have never been inside a government building in the 1980’s, it was a speckled white linoleum tile floor with two tone, (lower) light pastel green walls / (upper section) off-white, walls and fluorescent lights on the ceilings.
The doors were all heavy gauge steel with a stainless steel kick plate and robust knobs.

All the offices used office furniture that was maybe ten to twenty years old, and possibly even older (for the mid-1980’s, placing their manufacture in the 1930’s through the 1960’s).
I saw some wooden desks from the 1920’s there, but for most of the base, it consisted of heavy-steel grey desks that were mass produced in the 1940s through to the 1970s.
The new equipment were mostly the electronics that we used, (1980’s style push-button) telephones, and (huge black & white non-color print ability) copy machines.  Faxes were just becoming popular, but still not prevalent.
The use of computers were for specialized projects and for the engineers and techs, not for the secretaries.  No word processors were used.  This was a time that was way before Microsoft Word and Microsoft Office came into popular use.  We used electric typewriters.
The labs used state of the art equipment and machinery.  However, that tended to be off-the-shelf high-end HP diagnostic and design equipment.

The base was populated with spread-out frame buildings that sat in the hot desert heat.  Many were plain and nondescript.  You couldn’t tell their purpose from the outside.  Some possessed signs, while others just sat there mutely.

The people were government employees.

Brilliant scientists and engineers, but they all dressed conservatively.  Typical dress was casual with a white or polo shirt over blue jeans.  In fact, they dressed in the western style.  Some wore cowboy hats, most wore cowboy boots and jeans.
Lee’s, Levi’s and wrangler jeans were the most popular at the time. Plaid shirts and collared T-shirts were the norm.  Many wore polyester shirts and pants (this was the 1980’s after all).
The wearing of ties was quite rare, though Texas style bolo ties would periodically make their appearance.  (At this time, not too many people wore collared polo-shirts.
We all tended to wear white or white patterned cotton/polyester blended shirts.)  There were very few people in uniform, as most people were civilian employees or contractors working for the government.  Many, if not all, had prior active military service.

Most of the people there at the local satellite facility were men.  I don’t recall ever seeing a woman there.  There were no janitor staff or maintenance staff there, unless on special assignment.  Thus the place ended up getting a dusty and cluttered look.
As projects came and went, the debris of prior projects would accumulate one on top of the other for months, years, and even decades.  In the lab would be industry calendars that would be a year or two out of date.
They don’t make these calendars anymore, because they are deemed sexist and inappropriate.  But we all loved them.  They would often portray an attractive woman, often in a swimsuit, holding some kind of industrial supply or tool.
For instance a typical calendar might show a red haired busty girl holding a wrench and leaning against a compressor.

The test substation was nothing more than an island of buildings on a hot flat desert plain.  There were no trees.  Mostly what you would see would be low brittle shrubs and sagebrush.  The ground was always covered in a fine sand of coarse rocks, brittle twigs and debris.

(This always included these multi-pointy star shaped seeds and burrs that seemed to always grab hold of my trousers and socks no matter how hard I tried to avoid them.)

The desert itself was mostly flat with various groupings of boulders placed haphazardly throughout the terrain.  Always, it seemed, that the boulders were grey and the sand was golden.  All of this was often framed against a pristine, robin egg blue, sky.
In the distance you could see the faded light Blue Mountains (typically a hazy blue tint) obscured by the daytime heat.  The Panamint Mountain Range were always viewable from the base no matter where you stood.
They seemed to always be covered with snow at their peaks, even in the hot, hot summer sun.

The cluster consisted of one large blue prefabricated building that was perhaps two stories tall, surrounded by a number of smaller trailers, sheds and structures of unknown purpose and function.
Many of the cement structures in the surrounding land were former test stands, or facilities that were part of previous research and test projects.  Many which were cancelled or killed over the years.  The projects, abandoned after being recorded and archived.
Their equipment cannibalized for other purposes and projects.

Many people do not realize that in the R&D field, more than 80% of the projects that scientists work on are routinely killed or discarded.  The reasons vary.  Some [1] are simply due to funding cuts, which is a political matter.
Other reasons include a [2] change in research direction, a [3] key individual leaving the program or a [4] decision made elsewhere to focus on something else. The Mohave desert is full of the broken dreams of many an aspiring engineer and scientist.

No matter where you were on the base at NAS NASC China Lake, you could see the mountains in the distance.  This is what they looked like.  In the distance they appeared with a bluish tint.  It is an atmospheric phenomena that I cannot explain adequately to the reader.
The reader must realize that for the most of the time, it was hot and dry desert, and the view reflected that fact.

What was most interesting however was that the valleys as shown in the picture above all had a small stream in the middle of them, and if you followed the valley up higher to towards the top of the mountain the streams got wider and life began to manifest itself in the form of small trees, weeds and grasses.

All the sheds, buildings and trailers were surrounded with all kinds of unused electronics, scientific apparatus and military devices of god-only knows what they were for.

(There would often reside many delightful objects of curious contraption inside of numerous cardboard boxes, many of which were never even opened once.)  The reader has to understand that it rarely rained, so a person could set the stuff outside for storage and nothing would ever happen to it.

So there were piles and piles of boxes of computer and electronic components, wires, containers of all sizes and shapes and gizmos and gadgets of an electronic pedigree of some sorts lying about.
To get to the complex (as well as leave it), you had to go through 3 gates with armed guards. So, no one was ever going to steal the stuff…

The electronics varied from scavenged avionics to entire mainframe computers.  There were boxes of disassembled antennas, submarine sonar systems, and missile tracking radar.  The boxes would hold such things as reams of wire in different gauges to boxes of nuts and bolts.
In a way, it was like a cross between Home Depot, a yard sale, and a Military surplus store all located in an old trailer park.

Every time that there was a project, the engineers on the project would store their gear outside.  That was usually because there wasn’t enough space inside the offices.  Outside were cardboard boxes, some open, and some closed.

There were boxes that had never been opened, but had been sitting there for years.  Often these boxes were loaded with all kinds of electronics gear.  Some boxes would have PCB panels, while others would contain wires.  Still others would hold parts of antennas.  There were boxes of screws, resistors, and all manner of junk that made the place look like the cross between a hardware shop and a flea market.

As odd as this might seem, generally no one would scavenge for parts unless they obtained permission from the original owners of the components first.  This was a small community on the base, and everyone knew everyone else.

At least, as far as the grizzly old timers, and managers were concerned.  Transient engineers, other contractors, and those individuals like myself were excluded from the good-old-boy network that persisted at the base.

But, while I did not know it at the time, my role in MAJestic was a very unique and important one.
I am sure that were there any need to defend me or support me in my role that the entire weight of the MAJestic organization would bear down on anyone who would interfere in my training and purposes there.

The portable office buildings were simply work offices.  There were file cabinets, air conditioners, and some even had a sink and fridge.  Inside were desks, conference tables and just the normal brick-a-brack associated with any kind of business or work.
Mugs with Naval and Weapon Systems logos on them abounded.  I well remember one that I used (don’t remember where I picked it up, probably next to the coffee pot – an orphan mug) a CBU-78/B with a picture of some weapons system and some flashy logo design was quite common.

We used the port-a-potties that were on the edge of the parking lot for the most part.  Though, at least one of the trailers had a fairly decent restroom.  All of the buildings were cooled by both Air Conditioners and Evaporative coolers.
The most common method of cooling was the evaporative cooler, which we all liked to call a “swamp cooler”.

There were about four large office buildings there and one smaller one.  These were usually occupied by other people who I did not know, doing work that I knew nothing about.  When I would stick my head in the office to use the head, we’d nod and say hi, but that was about it.

One the side of each of the office buildings and the main prefab buildings were numerical designators, or address that things could be delivered to them.  There was a mail box in front of the parking lot, and a large dumpster on the edge of the parking lot.
There was nothing extraordinary concerning the layout of the complex.  It was a typical industrial layout that could be seen anywhere in the United States or in the world.

Off the road in front of this complex was a small parking lot big enough for about thirty cars, though it was mostly empty with no more than five to eight cars there at any given time. It the far end was an area for motorcycles.
On the deck were metal plates for the rider to use to put the kickstand upon.

Off from the parking lot was a set of cement steps that led to the main building.  Next to the side door was a coke machine.  Though, I never saw anyone ever fill it up.  I suppose that you would have to have a high security clearance to fill soda machines in this area.

The main building, as far as I was concerned, was the big blue prefab warehouse building.  It housed the anechoic chamber that I did most of my training in.  It was a dual use facility and was used to test and calibrate various munitions at the base.

 Inside was a really messy control booth, raised up about 10 inches above the floor with cabling below it.  The control booth contained a long curved, “L” shaped console desk.  In the desk were various knobs, dials and electronic modules.

 
There were also voids and gaping holes in the metal of the desk were modules were removed and not replaced.  In these holes, sometimes wires would protrude and they would dangle out of the hole like some kind of colorful dusty snake.

Surrounding the desk were rack mounted electronics that controlled the “horns” that would be beamed at us when we were in the chamber.

Photo is of an abandoned power plant control station.  Never the less, the control room to the ELF station looked remarkably similar to this (cluttered, but not so littered.
There wasn’t any trash on the floor, etc.).  The dim lighting, the greenish-grey colors and the dusty panels were identical to the control station.

Off the side were large equipment racks with files of wires that cascaded downwards, and many panels were removed or open so that the workers could access the controls at will to modify, repair or access the equipment inside. It was a wonderous cluttered dim dusty mess.

There were a large number of horns.  They ranged in size to big units the size of a small car, to tiny hand held units that could fit into your hand.  Each one was labeled and identified and rolled for storage in every nook and cranny of the building.
The smaller horns sat on dusty shelves, while the bigger horns were wheeled into the dark hallways surrounding the chamber.

Typically, most horns were unpacked and stored as is.
Sometimes they were covered with a tarp of a sheet of plastic, and other times, they just sat there collecting dust. Like everything on the base, there were various tags, labels, and documents that provided code numbers used to track the devices and their ownership.

Of course, we all helped get the equipment to work, and my background and training was put to good use on the equipment.

The ELF chamber was huge and dark.  It could have fit a small bus easily inside.  There was a single incandescent light high up in the ceiling, and a plywood walkway that stood over the triangular cones that lined the floor.
The cones themselves were dark grey and covered with a rough finish to absorb all sounds.  It was spooky-quiet in the chamber.  The door to the chamber was thick and it was easily ten inches thick and studded with cones on the inside.

On the outside of the door was an indicator light.  This red light would be lit whenever a test sequence was going on.  It was a standard 60 watt incandescent bulb with a red (instead of clear) bulb surface.  That would warn people to stay away and not go inside.
Going inside the chamber would be hazardous if the wrong horn was powered on.

Inside the chamber was empty, but it had an area that permitted large ordinance (it was often used to test the radar and emissions properties of missiles and rockets) to be wheeled in and tested.
In my case, an ejection seat was wheeled in and placed in the center of the chamber.  It was mounted on to a welded frame and could be wheeled about as needed. This seat was pulled out of a dark corner, dusted off, set in place and secured to the floor.

The idea was for it to be located exactly in the proper place in the chamber.  The seat itself, was an ordinary enough object, no doubt scrounged from a previous project or obsolete program.

Up until the middle of (that) summer, I still had no recollection of my true and real purpose.  I had “forgotten” everything. I had no memories of what transpired while I was in AOCS.

There were real reasons for this.  It was important for various reasons that I not have access to these memories.  Most of the reasoning behind it was hidden from me.

Though, over the years I have speculated on the various reasons, and thus I have come to the obvious conclusion that those whom made the reasons had access to information and knowledge that I was not privy to.

I obviously needed to be oblivious to my purpose, and to the reasons why I needed to be trained.  I needed to blend in to the world around me, and I needed to be average and typical.  I was not to “stand out” in any way.  No attention was to be directed towards me.

Experts will tell you that memories reside within certain parts of the brain.  They know this, they explain, because they have mapped how the brain reacts when certain memories are triggered.  However, they make one critical ASSUMPTION.
They assume that ALL of the activity associated with memories occur ONLY within the brain.  As such, under this assumption, they can map the way the brain behaves when thoughts are triggered.  However, the truth is that this assumption is wrong.

Memories do not reside within the brain.  They reside elsewhere, and the brain accesses them using certain techniques.  It is the access of the non-resident memories that scientists have mapped.  Not the repository of the memories themselves.

While I have just (now) stated that I had no recollection of my memories, it was not precisely true.  In fact it  was not entirely true at all.  I did, indeed, remember every single one of my memories.  It is just that I never thought about them.

This is very confusing for many people to understand.  It has to do with how the mind accesses the memories.  It has to do with the process involved in memory recall.  It has to do with the way that memories reside in the quantum cloud surrounding the body.
In short, I never forgot my memories, but access to them was denied.

So for me, I had no conscious remembrances of anything associated with the program.  Conscious states or mental events lack the spatio-temporal properties of material objects.
Therefore, it becomes difficult to physically identify what had transpired during key events.Yet I still retained the memories associated with those events.

To be authorized to be on a military base, and especially where I was to be trained, I needed to have a secret clearance.  No one ever went to the regions where my training took place without one.  Yet, secret clearances are not just given away to anyone who asks for it.
It is extremely selective.  The system is designed that way.

Specifically, it requires a purpose and functional role that has to be associated with a given activity.  Each activity that the worker is assigned had to be placed under a specific project.  Each project had a level of secrecy associated with it.

However, to everyone else, I was “just” an engineering contractor.  (The reader must realize that there are many kinds of contractors.  Some have extremely restrictive security clearances.  There is no such thing as a “standard” engineering contractor.)  I could not, for instance, say that I was a member of a secret program, and needed a clearance.  I could not say that I was required to have a special clearance because I was part of a SAP.  These programs are secret.  No one knows about them; even the people on the bases that also held similar clearances.

There is no “James Bond style” secretary to the head boss “M” that knows all the agents, and all their assignment (Miss Moneypenny.).  That is just Hollywood fiction. Again, to remind the reader, real and actual secret programs are secret.

Therefore, I needed to [1] be assigned a “visible” and tangible project that [2] required that I do work on the base facilities.  [3] I had to have access to the inner (more secure) regions of the base.  [4] I also had to be given the secret clearance necessary to do the work.    Finally, [5] the process of obtaining my secret or confidential clearance must not betray my actual role.

Thus, I could not simply claim that I was a “top secret W(U)-SAP agent” that needed additional training because I had an association with MAJestic. (The reader must recall that I myself had no recollection of the memories of that role.  So for me, I was, for the first time, applying for a secret security clearance.  Not remembering that I already had the highest levels of military clearance through MAJestic.) I had to apply through local military and civilian government channels to get the basic military clearances.

That is how it is done.

When a person in MAJestic; with the highest clearances available needed to work on a military facility, or government base, they would reapply as a civilian for “lesser” clearances.  No one would ever know their true status.  So to get a person, who was part of the MAJestic team onto a base you find a reason to hire that civilian.  Then apply for the necessary paperwork and clearances.  Thus the solution was simple, and quite common, then as it is today.

In practice, you simply hire the individual to work on the base as a “military contractor”.  This is also known as a “carve out”.  It moves government control away from a government program.  (You “carve it out” of the highly scrutinized and politicized, government budget.) That way it cannot be politicalized.  It cannot be “used” as a “bargaining chip” to pass one sort of legislation or the other.  It cannot be used as some type of “political football” to further the needs for the political elite. It is protected, insulated and isolated from all of that.

Most military contractors had a technical background of some sort. All of the members of MAJestic had a technical engineering background.  In fact, this was one of the selection criteria. It is pretty smart when you think about.  You cannot join MAJestic unless you possessed a technical background.

There is no way that you can get it without having to PROVE that you have a technical ability. It effectively screens out “community organizers”, “political appointees”, and “liberal activists”.

As, then as now, people who tend to be workers, who tend to apply themselves to a project, often also tend to be traditional or conservative regarding many issues.  Then, once hired, the contractor obtained the security clearance specific to the work that needed to be conducted.

My initial work at the facility was as an electrical technician to help support the staff at the facility.  This was the lowest level of involvement that I could obtain to access the base.

It had, associated with it, the smallest number of questions regarding what I was to be involved in and what my tasks were to be.  Everyone who works on a military facility needed to obtain clearance to do so.  The smaller the number of questions asked, the better (for us), as our background was such that no “red flags” would be permitted to be visible.  Our training had to be conducted surreptitiously.  For other positions, and other clearances, more questions and more detailed examinations would have to be conducted.

This might be confusing to the reader, but it is very simple.  As a degreed engineer, I should have been hired at a much higher rate.  That would be a GS-9, or even a GS-12 (to start).  However, with every increase in pay grade comes an associative list of (more extensive) questions and inquiries.  All of which require detailed subsequent background stories (and investigations).

Additionally, it is best that once I obtained my “training” that I remove my history from China Lake as quickly as possible. Over time, it just becomes a simple footnote in a CV. That would not be so easy if I held a more substantive position on a military base.

So, I was hired as a GS-5 pay grade military contractor.

To make up the difference in pay level, my company provided me a generous Per Diem allowance that (when) combined provided me with an adequate salary during my training period.  So, in truth, I was being paid as the engineer I was, but for my technical clearance and all other issues regarding the government, I was just a lowly tech. I rated somewhere above janitor, but below engineer.

Like all base contractors, I had to perform my stated labors, and I did so without complaint.  Thus, I helped [1] debug the equipment, and [2] repair it when necessary.  I [3] helped to calibrate the units, and [4] run drills and [5] tests as needed.  Indeed, I spent much of my time in the [6] control booth and in the [7] nearby electronics lab.  I [8] learned how each and every one of the test units worked, and [9] I was able to debug it electronically.

Most of the controls used wire wrapped components.  This was a wiring nightmare.  It looked like thin spaghetti in a maze of colors and shapes.  Often these wires would come loose, or would be accidently pulled out of place, and we would have to go and repair the damage.  Sometimes the parts and components would fail, and we would have to repair and replace them.  Sometimes we would have to make our own replacement boards and units.  This was typical of the work myself were involved in while awaiting our training sequence.

The work was easy.  (We were just way overqualified for the work.  It was of a technical nature, and there was no question that we could do it.) It was just tedious.

In addition I helped to [10] test the units, and [11] perform manual labor associated with testing the equipment at the lab.  It often involved the moving of equipment, recording the test results and conducting setup and tear-downs of various testing configurations.  From time to time, I would also be called upon to do other related engineering tasks; such as [12] drafting checking, [13] basic drafting, and CAD design (on early CAD systems; notably CADKEY).

Every day was spent helping the staff at the facility test ordinance in the ELF chamber.  That continued for months up until one day when I was asked to help install a chair inside the chamber.  It was just sitting off to the side behind one of the partitions, and rested on a wheeled plywood platform. It was just a chair or a seat.  There was nothing special about it.  I suppose a “folding chair” would have the same utility.

After we had installed the seat, I noticed that the rest of the staff at our little island cluster of buildings had left for off-site meetings, thus leaving us three alone.  (That, in itself wasn’t really unusual.  People came and went.  But on that day, and the subsequent days, the local ELF facility parking lot was absolutely empty.) It was just myself, Sebastian and the Engineer who ran the facility remaining.  We chatted a while, and after we finished our cokes, I was told to sit there patiently and not to get up for any reason.  Sebastian helped close the door and I was left alone in the chamber waiting quietly.

The door to the chamber was then closed and sealed and the indicator light (This was a 40 watt red-colored incandescent light bulb that was in a light fixture outside the chamber, residing above the door to the ELF chamber.) was turned on.  The indicator light was always used in the event of a test, but I had never been inside the chamber during a test.  It was eerie and quiet.  Inside the chamber is enormously quiet.  (The interior structure of the ELF chamber was designed to absorb sound, radiation and light.  It is the nature and purpose of the chamber.) Anyone who has ever worked with these kinds of chambers will be able to confirm that fact.  It was dark with one lone 60 watt incandescent light bulb dangling from high up near the ceiling.  It was cool however, the chamber was at the same temperature as the rest of the air-conditioned building.  Even though there were no vents inside the chamber, I felt comfortable sitting there.  Though, in hindsight, maybe I should have brought a book with me.

It began with silence, and peace.  Then I began to feel an irritation.  It began to feel like all kinds of little tiny insects were crawling in my body.  Of course, it only felt that way.  There were no actual tiny insects.  It felt like every one of my nerves were alive and vibrating, and that gave me the impression that there were little things crawling inside of me.

And, before I knew what was going on, I heard a strong ringing in my head and there was a sequence of flashes and I lost control of my eyesight.  Instead, the long-ago yet familiar pastel map from the NAS NASC Pensacola Florida ELF facility at NAMI flooded my vision.  And at that very moment, at that exact instant of time, I had a total and complete resurgence of all my repressed memories associated with the W(U)-SAP (MAJestic) program.

The reader needs to understand that the consciousness is NOT the same thing as the soul. Likewise, memories are not the brain, nor do they reside inside the brain.  They are something separate that is accessed by the brain. As such, the brain and the consciousness that controls it, the soul and memories are all separate entities with different purposes and behaviors.

The core kit #1 probes were engaged.

It lasted for one or two minutes and then the field was turned off and my eyesight returned.  I sat in the chair and did not move.  I now remembered everything.  I had a complete and total memory recall of all the events leading up to the meeting with the Commander at the base, and everything subsequent to that.  It was stunning.  But even more stunning was fitting the fragmented pieces together and merging my “apparent” life that I have been living with the “true and actual” reality that had been hidden from me.  To me, it was enormously stunning.  I just sat there and did and said nothing.  I was overwhelmed.

Sitting in the NAS China Lake ELF chamber was unique and different than anything that I had experienced at NAMI in NAS NASC Pensacola, Florida.

For me, under the influence of the field, everything appeared different.  While I still retained the ability to see properly, my vision was changed.  The most noticeable aspect was that I saw the harmonics and cavitation effects of the ELF waves in my visual cortex.  All waves have harmonics and interference patterns.  We see that in water when you make waves by splashing.  But we, as humans, never see this effect in the air.  But, if you have the implants, and are under the effect of the field, you actually do physically see the effects.  You can actually see the extremely long waves bounce and hit the physical objects surrounding you.  You can see it with your eyes.  I do not how this happens, or what the mechanism is, but that is what happens.

The cavitation effects appear as dark lines or crescent troughs and ridges that overlap in the room where you sit.  They are obviously affected by the surrounding physical geometry of the room, as their appearance changes as you walk around the room into another area.  Always sharp corners, right angle protuberances, and flat surfaces make the wave shape most distinct.  Soft and rounded surfaces dilute the cavitation effects.  It also is apparently affected by the mass of the physical objects.  For instance a cement wall will have a greater influence than would a small wooden chair.

In the darkened anechoic chamber, it was still difficult to see.  As there was only one light bulb in the entire chamber.  But, I could see the interference patterns reflected in the chamber and affected by the thousands of triangular cones that dotted the walls and ceiling.  The most pronounced and obvious patterns were associated with the corners in the room.  If I failed to look at the corners, I would have failed to see the cavitation effects in the chamber. (Thirty years later, while I was in my cell, I could easily see the grey cavitation effects.  The walls were all white, and it was very easy to see the effects.)

I could see the effects because I was implanted. No one else could see the effects.

It took me a few minutes to compose myself.  After all, no matter how one looks at it, it is a shock to your system to know that you haven’t had the ability to access you memories.  It most certainly shocked me, and caused me to sit upright in my chair and vocalize “What The Fuck?”.  (Yeah, it was just like that.)  The team in the control booth (might have) realized this and asked me if I needed a minute to compose myself.   They even handed me a can of coke from the window next to the horn mounting clamps.  I said thanks and went and got it.  They let me drink it in quiet contemplation.

The team at that time (aside from me) consisted of [1] Sebastian, [2] the manager of the ELF “training” program at the facility, and [3] a military contractor who assisted in the setup and break down of the test equipment.  This person was quite old (from my perspective at the time) being a retired military and who was working there part time.  His experience and knowledge in the field was, to put it simply, vast.

I sat and thought about this for perhaps as long as 40 minutes (Yes; it sucked.  But, pragmatically, what are you able to do about it?) and then knocked on the control room window and told them that I was ready to proceed. I think I said something like, “OK, let’s get going.” Or something similar, and took two fingers pointed in the air making a circular movement.

Actually, the basic calibration of the core kit of probes was rather quick and straight forward.    It only involved two different sized horns (Perhaps to test and calibrate for each kit of probes installed.  I really do not specifically know why two horns were used for two kits of implanted probes.  I surmise it is one for each kit, but it is possible that each kit communicated using signals on different frequencies.), and a recording of the readings from the instruments.  I sat in the chair rather passively and let them run the calibration tests.  I felt nothing at all.  I had full access of both my eyes and my memories.  Why this testing and calibration was needed, I do not know.  The core basic kit of probes was a topic that I never got to explore or investigate.

After a while the ELF field was turned off, and the door was opened and I left the chamber.  What is curious is that at the conclusion of the test, my memories were yet again compartmentalized.  I left the facility at quitting time with the belief that I conducted just another everyday series of tests.  From my point of view, I just sat in the chair and waited a few minutes and then left.  I failed to notice that three hours had passed, not only three minutes.  I had no memory of anything else.  I then drove home and stopped for some KFC take out to bring home.  There was nothing spectacular in any way about the day that I could recall.

The next day began like any other day.  I went to work by driving through the three gates of the base on my motorcycle.  I parked my motorcyle in the corner of the parking lot and placed one of the steel metal squares under the kick stand and went inside.

I was the first to arrive, like always.  It was just like any other day at work, except that now we were putting a new horn in place.  This horn was different from the other two horns that we had used earlier.  Since it was relatively new, we had to unpack it out of storage.  It was stored differently than most horns, which were mounted on coasters and moved about when not used.  This horn had some additional devices hooked up to it, and it required the addition of a new module that plugged into the equipment rack to the right of the control booth.

Again, I went inside the chamber, and the door was closed like before.  Also like before, there was a brief period of discomfort as the field was turned on, but that quickly went away.  When the field was turned on, I also regained my memories.  But this time, the pastel map appeared (discussed elsewhere) and so did the reticle cursor (also discussed elsewhere).  Since this projection flooded my visual cortex, I knew what to do.  In which I automatically moved it to the appropriate spot on the map.  When I did so, there was a moment where it got “locked in place”, and then the map disappeared.

Again, with a full set of memories, I sat in the chair for about five hours as the calibration process was conducted.  I noticed that the calibration process for the specialized implanted probes was substantially different than for the core kit.  Apparently, the probes worked differently from each other and thus had different calibration procedures.

At the conclusion of the calibration procedure, the field was turned off, and shortly after that I again lost all my memories of my ELF related past.  This included the calibration test that I was just involved in.  Instead, just like the day previous to this, I remembered it as just another typical day at work.  We all said good bye to each other, and went home at the end of the day as if nothing strange was going on.

I don’t know if the manager, who operated the machinery realized what it must be like for me not to remember anything.  Or if he understood the issues with the compartmentalization of the memory.  He was certainly a talented person.  He was a career government employee.  The manger was an engineer like myself, with a prior military record.  The person helping him; Sebastian, however knew exactly what it was like, as our training was identical.  But none of us talked about anything.

This compartmentalization was maddening.  As all of us were highly skilled and had the necessary secret clearances to conduct our tasks, but I wonder if we really needed to have our memories compartmentalized so drastically.  It wasn’t my call, as I was not in the decision process.  But, my guess is that those who sponsored the program did not.

We conducted two separate bouts of training.  One for myself, and another one for my colleague Sebastian.  Neither of us talked about our experiences afterwards.  We simply pretended that none of it ever happened.

The next work day was different.  This was now day three of my training.  But, this time when the field was turned on, and I had a full recall of my memories, something different happened.  Instead of the pastel calibration map appearing, an overlay appeared over my field of sight.  This overlay was transparent.  I could see the chamber that I was in and look at my hands, but overlaid over my sight was an image.  That image was fixed and did not change at all, no matter where I turned my head or moved my eyes.

To my great surprise, the image that was overlaid on my field of vision was the album art of the album that I selected as my favorite album back at the ELF facility in NAS NASC Pensacola, Florida a few years ago.  (In NAS, NASC Pensacola, Florida at NAMI, we were given a questionnaire to fill out.  On it were many questions.  One of the questions was what was my favorite song.  The song that I selected came from a specific music album (as did all songs of that time).  Unlike today were the reader would immediate know the MTV music video associated with a song, in those days we all knew the album art, and interior sleeve details of a given song instead.)

This album art was for Al Stewart’s “The Year of the Cat”.  It was not the external outside album art, but the more detailed inside sleeve art (Inside vinyl record packaging was a thin paper envelope that held the vinyl record.  Often times this paper envelope was decorated with designs and symbols reflective of the outside cover art work.  In the case for the album, “The Year of the Cat”, the inside sleeve artwork consisted of a wallpaper like design motif that had rows upon rows of the items illustrated on the outside of the album.  This was a two color design;  Black line art on a light blue paper background.) that was portrayed inside my visual cortex.  I must completely tell the reader  that seeing it was pretty surprising to me. (I wonder if this was [1] a construction of my mind, or [2] if some engineer had to physically program that control dialog JUST FOR ME to experience.  It’s an interesting thought.)

This was years before Microsoft introduced the Windows operating system.  Everyone was still using MS DOS.  But, the characteristics of this HUD (Heads Up Display)i(https://metallicman.com/laoban4site/probe-calibration-and-worldline-training/#_edn1) was nearly identical to that of the later day Windows OS interface.

The projected image was collimated which made it appear to be overlaid in front of me.

I found that, like the pastel map earlier, a reticle (of a different type and appearance) appeared and I could move it about with my mind.  By thinking certain thoughts, spoken by coached direction from the booth, I was able to pull up various icons and figures that I had the ability to manipulate.

The process and training was simple.  Once the overlay entered my visual cortex, I could move a (semi-transparent) reticle over an icon that would reside on the display in front of me.  I could then activate or “click” on it by will power.  This would cause a kind of menu to appear.  The menu was not in English, but was rather in additional symbols of basic shapes and forms.  I was taught how to control various elements of the icons through a pre-graphic interface by thought alone.  Then “set” them in place and move forward to the next icon.  I believe that what I was doing was nothing sort of configuring my second kit of probe implants.  Because, once I configured them, and then locked them in place, I never returned to that portion of the screen again.

To better explain how this worked, the reader must recognize that it was different from the GUI that we currently use on Windows software.  Here, the reticle “floated” over and above the background menu.  The menu, of course, was the shapes and forms superimposed over the album artwork.  I could move the reticle over the shapes (by my thoughts) and when I selected one (also by my thoughts), the reticle would “land” and “harden”. It looked like it was making an impression in soft clay.

Once that was completed, I was taught how to perform some higher level “tweaks” and manipulations to the system.  This was, I suppose, the operating system for the second core kit inside my brain.  And, that was the core extent of my training during this period.  By listening to their coached directions (That they (no doubt) were reading from a manual or handout.), I was able to learn how to use and configure the basic operating system.  This was the source code germane to the Core kit #2 implants.  This was a very powerful skill set and certainly very important.

The first objective of the training program was to be able to access my source code and manipulate it, to a limited extent.  To this end, I spent a period of time, approximately three weeks, learning how to use this software.

I did not learn every code, sequence or every function possible.  I only learned the most basic commands and their purposes.  During this time, I also learned how the unique kit that is implanted in myself interfaces with the Core kit (Kit #1).

Unlike conventional software, such as used today, the software routines that I used to debug and modify the probes were all graphic in nature.  They consisted of little pictures. Similar to Chinese symbols, but quite different. It was truly a graphic interface.

Keep in mind that this was in the 1980’s at a time when the concept of a graphic interface and the use of a mouse was just entering mainstream use.

Information was stored on paper-thin “disks” that were known as floppy discs and only held one MB of information or so.  The “mouse” was a “new” technical innovation, and most computers did NOT have one.  You needed to navigate using the arrow keys on the keyboard.
In a way, the graphical interface seemed to represent a collection of PLC sequences and ladder diagrams.  The interface and commands were simple, but maybe it only appeared that way to me because I was somehow programmed to think that.

There were perhaps 150 or so basic symbols that I needed to memorize (Out of maybe thousands.). The impression that I have is that they are but just a small part of an overall “library” of symbols. Additionally, the orientation of each symbol had a particular meaning and role.
This included [1] rotation of the symbols, [2] mirror images of the icons, and [3] a combination of both.  This is unlike what we do in our romance languages today.  We have fixed fonts.
(That is the same in China, the shapes of the icons were fixed, but if you reverse them, they would hold a different meaning. Like the character “fu” which means “fortune”.  People put it upside down on their doors during Chinese New Year to signify holding the fortune inside.)

Once I memorized the symbols and the orientation rules, everything became very simple. Indeed, the symbology was very simple and I could “read” the symbols that I would “see” before my virtual eyes.

This is part two of a two part post. It concerns the calibration and training that I was part of . I needed this training to complete my mission parameters as part of MAJestic.

This is Part #2 of a two-part blog post.
To read Part #1, please go HERE. PART ONE

This post discusses a period of specialized training that I underwent in support of my role within MAJestic. It concerns “calibration” and “adjustment” exercises for a number of probes and devices that were implanted inside my brain. These devices consisted of three “sets”.
One set, was extraterrestrial in nature and performance. The remaining two were terrestrially derived MAJestic implants.

All of the “training” and calibration exercises could ONLY be conducted within a specialized chamber, while all three probe “kits” were engaged.

There was a certain degree of “programming” I had to be involved in. I do not think that this had anything to do with the terrestrial core kit #1 or #2 probes. Rather, I think that it had to do with the interface with the core kit #2 probes and the base extraterrestrial probes.
I was not instructed in the entire programming language. I was only taught the bare minimum of what I needed to know.

For starters, instead of numbers, two means of conveyance are used. [A] Numbers were conveyed using a set of funky “O” shaped symbols (It was a base-8 octal system using (from what I can tell) seven symbols plus an “empty” symbol.
Though I can be wrong, after all that was all many decades ago.) when used to identify a location or object. When used to convey an amount of a measure, [B] a set of lines were used.
The lines looked like a comb, and could be presented in either a straight, curved, overlaid or stacked appearance. The closer together the lines were to each other was a measure of the mathematical power of the value.
The height of the lines denoted proximity and / or magnitude.  However, at no time were any words or sentences visible.  It was all graphic.

The numbers were not based on a base-10. They were based on a base-8 system. (Luckily for me, I learned how to compute using base-8 in Middle School.
Seventh grade, maybe eighth grade, I believe.) I suppose that my eighth grade teacher would have a heart attack, knowing what I was using what they taught me, for.

As strange as this might seem, while under the ELF field,  I underwent a “cut-scene” image of why the icons looked like they did.  The reader must remember that, at that time, cut-scenes did not exist except in movies.  I went through an event that was very much like a cut-scene in a video game.
However, as I witnessed or viewed the scene, it was as if it was a memory to me.

This is how I learned. This is how I was taught how to use the symbols.

In the “cut-scene”, I could see a short hand with three very long fingers.  (One thumb and three long fingers. The fingers were similar to our own human fingers, but much longer. Perhaps twice as long!
They had fingernails, and knuckles, and a smooth complexion.) The hand hovered over some (highly reflective) soft tan sand on a very bright yellowish day.

It was like everything was sepia (Sepia tones are used in photography; the hue resembles the effect of aging in old photographs, and of older photographs chemically treated either for visual effect or for archival purposes.
Most photo graphics software programs and many digital cameras include a sepia tone option.).

Then, very slowly, the index finger made long (easy and relaxed) movements in the sand. It went down and traced a long slightly curved line in the sand.
Then the hand went and made another line perpendicular to it, and yet another, and finally depressed it’s long finger in the sand.  That action made a “dot” that had a longish (miniature “I”) shape.

That was how and why many of the icons had long easy curves.  It was a naturally easy thing to do. That is why the icons look like they do. They duplicate the writing method of the “parent species” that devised this system of pictorial icons.

That is how I learned. I “participated” in memories that instructed me as to what the symbols represented and why.

For numbers, the (four fingered) hand took the index finger and pressed it into the sand.  It then dug a shallow hole with the hand. Then, it went and dug another shallow hole, but this time it put a pebble in it. Again, it went and dug another shallow hole.
This time it put two pebbles in it. This continued until there were eight holes. Each hole was filled with pebbles or a oriented “dash” that was representative of them.
Thus, the iconic depiction of an “O” was really a representation of the hole, and whatever was placed inside the hole.

They based their numerical system on their eight fingers.  Much like we based our numerical system on our ten digits (four fingers and a thumb on each hand).

Everything was in graphics through the use of graphic icons.

This wasn’t any kind of programming language using words as we would use today (in Basic, Java, C++, or Pascal). In computing languages today, they use commands that were derived from English words. This was NOT the way my graphical program worked.
Here is a typical C++ line of code;

Things were quite different. No derived English words were used. Graphical pictures or symbols were used instead. For instance, functions came between these funky brackets that looked like a cross between fat bumper-car bumpers and a colon ( : ).
Control of physical properties of physical items was denoted by a kind of bent “L” shape.

Control of the material behaviors of specific elements (the “defaults” that we ASSUME are fixed in this universe ruled by the laws of physics) were denoted with a group of two symbols that reminded me of an “S8” appearance.

Orientation of the symbols was critical. There were also post and pre command modifiers that would affect the function within the brackets. Commands within the It was a coding language not unlike APL, but instead of automating functions, it created “ladder diagrams” to control the operation of various aspects of my implants.

Most of what I was involved with involved the selection of range modifiers for set controls.  I didn’t actually write control stack language. However, I could as the option was there, but it was way, way beyond my skill set and ability.
Instead I only knew the basics and adjusted what I was directed (by the facility manager) to adjust.

In function, he was simply reading to me over the microphone. I would then confirm when I had completed the instruction. I would imagine that the facility manager was simply reading typed instructions from a document to me, without any comprehension, what he was reading.
Then, once completed, he more than likely shredded the document.

In every instance, I was able to do the exercises that were presented to me.  I was able to run diagnostic scans, operate the limited debugging tools provided, switch in and out of secure communication links, secure a command and lock it in place.
I was able to make certain abilities “soft” and then “harden” them into place, where necessary (float above and then sink into clay).  Unlike conventional windows, no pop-up window or box ever appeared.  Instead, the indicating icons would appear overlaid on the base overlay.
Strangely enough, this never obscured the working desktop presented in front.

Once I completed a specific sequence, a new image would fill my visual cortex.  I would need to complete the entire new sequence before I could exit.  In other words, there was no “abort” key, or “exit” command. I do not know why this is (was) the case.
Once a sequence was set in motion, I had to go through the entire sequence before I could exit it. Otherwise, it just sat there waiting for me to do something.

The calibration segment consisted of setting up presets and learning the basics on how to individually program the probes within an ELF environment.

Setting up the presets was very easy as most of the presets were already set in place.  All I needed to do was make minor corrections. These tended to be a matter of degree. For instance, one of the presets revolved around the scope or amplitude for the field.
I had set it “close”, but later on, during my retirement, I wanted it to be more comfortable, and I changed the setting with the techs that came to retire me.
Like stated previously, it was just a simple matter of moving a hovering or floating reticle over a specific setting and then hardening it into “clay”.

The presets were probably the most critical part of this segment. Programming wasn’t really ever used.  (Once, I modified the code to enable entanglement.) In fact, I can honestly say that I never used the programming as part of my role.
So, it really didn’t make much sense to train me to be able to access the “source code”. It was simply a great coincidence that I had the ability to reprogram the probes.

In general, in programming the various features of the probes, I had to learn to conduct rough “function chains”. These were just ladder diagram commands.  They were identified with a start command symbol (looked like a big plump four-pointed star) and ended with an end command which kind of looked like a leaner and smaller four-point star.

(Yes, I know the symbology is odd.)  However, this was not always the case, while line functions always started with the “big star”, it could be “open ended”. That means that there would not be a closing “small star”.
Instead, a “goto” command would exist.  There were numerous icons for this command depending on what the function would go to next.

Unlike conventional programming, which runs in a line from left to right, I was taught to program from bottom upwards.  Once completed, the program line would be presented in a horizontal fashion.  It was read right to left.
In other words, the “big star” icon would be at the far right, and the “small star” icon would be at the far left.

Further, the “surface” that this programming took place on was not flat. It was not like a piece of paper, a computer printout, or a nice organized surface inside a monitor. It was three dimensional.
Elements or sections of “code” could be moved forward or backwards relative to my point of view. Thus, if I were to take a two-dimensional snapshot of the programming, you could see code in different sizes. From HUGE code “up front”, to unbelievably tiny code way in the back.

There were “objects” or “features” that I could manipulate. These looked like orbs, balls or concentric circles. They were connected to other “objects” through the use of lines. The lines would follow the curve of the larger objects that the smaller objects would be part of.

On top of all this, the programming was not in front of a monitor. It was all in my head. It was conducted while I sat down on the chair inside the ELF chamber at China Lake. The way these symbols materialized and moved about was by thought.
Each one had an associated “feel”, “presence”, or “memory” (for lack of better terms) that I could “understand” and which helped me use the symbols. When I focuses on the component symbol, I would also access the associated “memory” or “abilities” that it possessed.

To me, they “felt” like thick cookies that fit together like dominoes. There were laws or rules that restricted placement. It was sort of like moving magnets around each other.
The feelings, understandings and movements of the component glyphs only lased while my attention was focused on them.

Within this command sequence were two major components.  This consisted of [1] the program action itself, and [2] the objects to modify or manipulate. The objects to modify were themselves placed within a kind of bracket system that looked like plump baby bumpers.
The objects themselves can either [1] be “named” by use of these kind of funky “O” shaped designs, or be [2] a set process that is described using other characters.  Often these other characters would look like (backwards) curvy “L” or other odd shapes.
Often, but not always, these objects were associated with a “position” within another process. In this case, they would utilize a queue icon (location within the ladder chain), which looks like a capital “I” with a dot in the middle of it.

Each probe had a specific name (address or location finder) associated with it. When a given function would access the probe or groups of probes, a set object identification pattern would manifest. It would always be between the two (plump baby bumper) bracket icons.
This can be [1] assigned or [2] accessed as part of another function.  When assigned, the first line of “code” always specifies these objects first.  Usually they were graphically larger than the rest of the code. When displayed horizontally, it was read left to right.

To the left of this object assignment, was an “assign object” code.  It was always smaller in font text. It would consist of two icons.
A “start assignment” icon which looked like a backward “L” (with a curved backward back) with a little “foot” (at the left end) that was upside down. This icon was also present to the left of the code that enumerated the objects identification code.  Only it was a mirror image.
The second icon was a “end assignment” icon. It looked like a backwards “L” with a curve backwards with an equal sign though it. It also was at the end of the object naming.

Here is the basic format that we used when assigning a code for a group of objects.  This can be anything from a single individual probe, to a group of multiple probes, to a specific characteristic of a device or artifice.

As described previously, when assigning a particular identification to an object or function, it is made larger than the rest of the code.  Further, it is preceded with a command that specifies that it is being made.
The “to make” command has associated parameters associated with it. A specialized set of “brackets” are used to identify what is going on and why.

Throughout the programming code, the use of a given sequence of icons can be referred to or modified by the start-condition parameters as defined within the object / process definition segment.

Here is an example of assigning a numerical code within a pipeline of the process tree. Note that the entire location or “address” is identified by two thick “baby bumper” icons;

After the object, came the function. Many of the symbols used in the functions were easily understandable.

For instance, a backward “L” (with a curved backward back) with a little “foot” (at the left end) would be “click” then an icon that looked like “two curved swords over a road”(like in the city of Baghdad) would mean “hold” This might be followed by an icon that would look like a stylized equal sign at a 45-degree angle would mean “share” or “interface or act” Finally, an icon that would look like a slash (an oblique slanting line) stylized with a dash next to it would mean “release”.

This entire command sequence must be programmed into the system to work, so you would place a queue icon (that looks like a capital “I” with a dot in the middle) next “queue”.

Commands would be read right to left instead of left to right like in English. So the command above is a simple “FETCH” command broken down into a series of icons. Like all functions, f(x) you need to specify the variable (x) or the object that will be modified by the command.
This is placed within brackets (big fat ones like baby bumpers) before the function.

You “engage” the process by the “click” command, and then let the process actuate under the “hold pause and continue” command. It works a lttle like a “one shot”. Once the process is completed it then interfaces or runs or collects functions or data.  This is the “share” command. Once the task is completed, you “release” of course. The entire process needs to be programmed, so you “queue” with respect to another action.
Where and how it performs depends on the relationship of adjacent icons.  In the example below, I used an “open arms” icon that means “accept input”, or in other words, I have to specify, what the values would be (or tie to another function that would provide those values).

For instance, the below shows a very simple use of the fore mentioned fetch command.  Here, one of the (characteristics) of one of the probes (identified by name, and shown to be part of a process queue) utilizes the fetch command to interface with another process.
It assigns properties based upon a list of options. (The options come from the queue index in the object section.)

In the example above, we can see that the entire sub-program is a function. It references a location in the ladder diagram. This location is positioned between the two “baby bumpers” with a queue index icon in the middle of the location address. Then the actual code is specified.
This is the function section. Finally, the entire sub-function is identified with a start and an end star.

When looking at the entire programmed function, the first thing that you can see near the end of the function is the objective of the function. Then to the right is the actual sub-program function. Finally the object to be programmed, or the sub-program that is to be modified.

The entire set of implants contained reams and reams of codes like this. However, access to specific lines of code was easy. You simply thought about what you wanted to do, and relevant code would appear.
For instance, if I wanted full access to all of my memories, I would just simply think about “assess the code associated with my memories” and it would appear. Like all the code, the values for the objects and address location were pretty much meaningless to me.
However, I did “understand” what they represented when I thought about it.

Strangely, I thought about it in a kind of 4D manner. I could imagine it moving and changing with different values and aspects as I thought about the function. It was cool, neat and baffling all at the same time.
Specific icons (and the associated values and functions) could also be changed. However, if I wanted to change something that might be prohibited for some reason, I would not be able to change anything.
There seemed to be a sort of “fail safe” editing command structure inherent in the program.

Initially, I gave a lot of thought as to what this was all about. After all, even though I now was able to retain my memories of the implant procedure, I did not have a clue as to what the overall purpose or what my role would be.

In short, the programming for the probes was mathematically based but used a system that was employed to control the functions of complex aggregate machine-like artifices. Thus, it was neither a pure ladder diagram, nor a software programing language.
It was something altogether different. As my ability to program software is rather primitive, the terms that I use herein is mine own and should not be confused with standardized conventions.
The reader should also recognize that my impressions are that of a technically trained engineer that only understood what I needed to understand at the time. I was not, nor was I ever, an expert in this.
Additionally, the ravages of time have corrupted my memories and what I think is correct could very well be incorrect. Never the less, I place it here, for the reader to ponder, in it’s impure state.

A function is what the purpose of the devices do. They can be programmed to do different things.
Since we were programming ELF probes, and their interface with a biological artifice, it would make sense that the programming would alter or control the aspects associated with this purpose.
In short, a function is a software communication method that would program mechanical devices to behave in certain ways. For our purposes, lets define these “ways” as “functions”.

In general it would take (iconic) arguments (that bracketed the operation command on one or both sides) and would return a specific action as a result. The functions can be;

The functions can be arranged in certain defined manners. These defined manners change the appearance of the specific code. In general, there are three different arrangements, each with a set or limited array of outcomes.

We also have a system where you can go “backwards” and derive a function. Here, it would consist of a operation or mapping that takes one (left) or two (left & right) function or an array-valued argument (operands) and derives a function.
An operator may be [1] Primitive: built-in and represented by a single glyph, or [2] Defined: as a named and ordered collection of program statements.

Why all this programming if we were implanted to be a robot? Certainly slaves, or robots are not provided with the means for independent control. The reader must recognize that at this time, I still had no idea what my “purpose” was.
While it was all pretty cool, interesting and exciting to me, I still had no idea what all this would lead to.

I initially thought that at the most basic level we were to become a robotic slave to the commands issued to us. We were, after all, allowing the person at the other end of the transmitter to control our brains and thus ourselves. Oh, how simple I was then!

That was not the case, we were more valuable than that. They really didn’t need to pull out highly trained Naval Aviators, who have mastered multiple degrees, passes rigorous testing, and meet difficult levels of achievement to turn them into brainless robots.
You could do this in other ways and use other people who were not so expensively trained.

Remember, to train a Naval Aviator cost over a couple of million dollars, so we were too expensive to turn into a household appliance. Whether it be as a mindless zombie to pick up a gun and shoot up a school, or to innocently walk into a meeting room and stab a CEO of a company. You did not need the kind of background and training that we had to do these things. The skill level requirements did not match; they were incompatible.

So, instead of simply being a remote controlled cyborg, we were taught how to reprogram our mind under certain conditions using the ELF signals. We could communicate as if we had Wi-Fi always in our heads, and we had access to control of our bodily functions at a level that was unprecedented previously.

Ah, but I digress…

Now that’s about all there was to the programming section of my training. In the grand scale of things, it didn’t last very long. I was at the ELF facility for maybe a handful of months. I “awoke”, and was taught how to program. I then self-programmed my probes and set the required defaults. Then I was reassigned to work off-base.

Only this time, I received instructions and communication straight from the source. No one needed to tell me anything. I instantly “knew” what to do.

I started to see (feel) immediate changes in myself physically, mentally and emotionally. I learned, then (quite early) that you just do not mess around with certain things. What I was involved in was a serious business that could have negative consequences if you were not careful.

I learned quickly what my skill set was.

I also learned that there were multiple world-lines. As such, I was taught how to adjust world-line programming. This also included time, the passage of, and the (apparent) direction of it. However, each time I ran through the “episodes” associated with the reading by the ELF station manager, it seemed like preprogramed memories would describe what was possibly transpiring at the time the changes were made. It was almost like I was performing within a cut scene and living out the consequences of my activities. This included both world-line alterations and time manipulation.

The capability remained present. Why anyone would want to invoke changes in time is beyond my comprehension. However, it is possible under the proper conditions. Indeed, this aspect is something that even now I am really confused about.

I learned and was trained to invoke certain sequences for “advantage”. This training was substantial and is the subject of another post. In short, I learned how to navigate the MWI using link-access.

Anyways…

According to the Internet, there isn’t any extraterrestrials, world-line travel is a hypothetical fantasy, probes inside the brain is a fantastic illusion brought about by people with mental illnesses, and the idea that the United States government would be involved in such things is considered fringe lunacy.

So, anyways, that’s about it for now. You can believe or not. I personally don’t give a flying fuck. If you want to believe that I spent my 1980’s wearing parachute pants, wearing a mullet, and watching “The Golden Girls”, so be it.

You can believe everything CNN tells you. You can believe all about Global Warming. You can believe that there are 55 genders. You can believe that you are not paying enough in taxes, and that more taxes are needs “for ma roads!”.

Good for you.

Anyways, thank you for reading this.