UPDATE in June, 2026: In looking over this article I uploaded to my site in 2006 but then took town after a few years I realized I should re-activate it. It was a very interesting portrait of Portland/Oregon at that time, and much of it may still be relevant today. Even if things have since improved in the last 20 years (and I know for a fact, courtesy of Google Streetview, that the neighborhood Joe and I were living in and which I describe in this write up, has massively improved….) this write up is a good documentation of what I feel is/was the experimentation on the population that was taking place when I lived there, and which IMO was testing out what could then be done in the rest of the country. 20 years later and it’s safe to say that what was once happening in Oregon has now overtaken California and Washington, and it’s more than just mere liberal politics to blame. If anything, the Communist/satanic liberal takeover of the “Left Coast” is what helped provide the base foundation for all the additional experimentation and manipulation of the population, of which I outline in detail here. 20 years ago I could never have imagined L.A. turning into what it currently is. Sure, all cities have their run down areas and their homeless. But L.A. and San Francisco are unrecognizable to me now. I visited San Francisco at least three times in the 90s, and one of those time by myself, arriving at 1 in the morning at the bus station and didn’t even hesitate or think twice to walk all the way to Union Square alone as a little unarmed female in the middle of the night to a hotel. The city was peaceful and beautiful at that time of night, with the orange streetlights glowing on the paver sidewalks and steam coming out of the manholes. Whatever homeless they had were low key and neat. There were no tent cities. No needles and feces anywhere. There was only one time ever in my trips to S.F. where I smelled urine anywhere, for a brief moment on some random side street in the Tenderloin. Nowadays? You couldn’t pay me to visit S.F. Or L.A. Or Seattle for that matter. The plague that started in the out-of-the-way testing grounds of Oregon decades ago has now overcome Washington and California, and will continue to spread to as much of the U.S. as “the powers that be” can get away with. It’s a concerted, multi-faceted agenda, and I get into some of the other layers of this agenda – a huge one being mind control on the population to sedate and create apathy and oblivion – in depth in this write up.
I lived in Oregon for only four months, at the end of 2001 and into the beginning of 2002. Four months was enough time though to realize that there was something unusual occurring in Portland, and with Oregon in general.
Oregon is a state that would seem like it should have a lot going for it. It’s huge, with fertile land, clean air, lakes, streams, rivers, mountains, and thousands of acres of undeveloped land. Yet it’s one of the most economically depressed states in the nation, topped only by places like New Mexico. At the time that I moved there after 9/11, Oregon had one of the highest unemployment rates in the nation. Welfare, state assistance, unemployment, alcoholism and poverty ran rampant and probably still do. I don’t imagine much has changed. Two articles that I have lying next to me as I type this from The Oregonian newspaper say, “State’s New Welfare Face: Young, Skilled, Jobless” (January 27, 2002) and “Struggling Parolee Hopes Robbery Note Will be Ticket Back to Prison, Police Say.” (January 2002 I believe) You know things are bad in Oregon when a guy from Salem robs a bank…to go back to jail, because it’s better than whatever’s happening on the outside. I’ve never seen so much destitution, so many people who’d just given up and don’t even try, who trudge through their daily lives like the disheveled walking dead. What’s going on in Oregon? Why is it such a collossal failure despite having so much potential? If the desert of Southern California could be cultivated to become an economic powerhouse, housing over 20 million people between Los Angeles County and San Diego, with the world’s seventh largest economy at one point in time, then what went wrong with Oregon?
This isn’t meant to be a serious dissertation of sorts though to actually answer these questions from a mainstream, economic point of view. But what I do intend to do is outline what I saw and experienced in my short time there, with a kind of…quirky approach that waivers between humorous/tongue in cheek, and conspiracy/metaphysics. I was only there for four months, but I saw and noticed more in that short bit of time – because I was paying attention, and actively looking – than the walking dead natives seem to. Whereas others would look to answer my questions by analyzing the local governments, budgets and spending, the public school system, state history, and so on, I’m looking at things like the low band frequency waves that are being broadcast, of which I heard, the weather manipulation, the chemtrails, and overall weirdness that most mainstream people don’t even notice, let alone attribute to why an entire city, and entire state, is not functioning at its full potential.
If I had to sum up the general crux of the situation, and everything that this write up is about, it’s that Oregon is purposely being held down and the population is being experimented on. Another sub-aspect (which lays the foundation for why all the rest is happening) is that there seems to be “dimensional weirdness” occurring in Portland. But most people out there in the world have absolutely no concept of realm bleed throughs, dimensional portals and the like. Their everyday normal mainstream lives have no place for such things. However, this does seem to play a large part in what’s going on in Portland…as much as I’m sure that explanation is not exactly what people were anticipating. The vibe there was so bizarre, so foreign to me when I first arrived into town that I had a mild anxiety attack. I’d never felt anything like it in any city I’ve been to at that point. (And the only other place that I’ve encountered since that was comparable in terms of bad vibes was New Orleans, when I passed by en route to Florida.)
The only problem with a write up of this nature is that there is no provable “evidence” that I can supply. I can only offer up my experiences and intuitive impressions and some random photos. Also, each thing that I note may not seem that big of a deal, when looked at individually. But pooled collectively, and looked at in the Bigger Picture sort of way, then there seems to be a story. At best, I’m hoping that somebody else out there who’s been to Oregon and Portland will read this and relate to what I’m saying. I’ve already had that happen in fact. Since the original posting of this write up I’ve heard from several readers via email confirming their own experiences in Oregon and the bizarre/bad vibes they felt which caused them to want to race on through the state and get out in a hurry. Also received confirmation on a message board, after I posted about this topic. Not only could the fellow poster relate….but she confirmed details that I’d purposely withheld, because I was worried about revealing too much of the “crazy stuff” and being labeled as a fruit loop. But there she was, corroborating details that I had purposely held back.
So with that in mind, I will try to delve down deep into what the @#%! is going on in Oregon…
******
I left Orange County, California, after 9/11. Several things came together to make this happen, namely, the fact that I didn’t want to live near L.A. after an event like 9/11, while simultaneously, I had my younger brother Joe up in Portland living in his own apartment…miraculously….for the first time in his 21 years, giving me a place to stay for free. So on November 1, 2001, a week shy of my 27th birthday, I got in my car in Lake Forest, California, filled up my tank at USA Gasoline on El Toro Road, and hit the 5 north. Destination: Portland, Oregon. I’d never been there, but after 10 years in SoCal, I was just over it. It was tired and worn out for me, smoggy and crowded, and all my relationships had hit a dead end. I hadn’t been able to even drive on the freeways during the day for the past two to three years…if I had, I wouldn’t have gotten anywhere. Millions of other cars to contend with. I had to use the toll road. I needed something new, and Portland fell into my lap at that exact moment. Originally I had been planning to move up to the Bay area, as I was mad for San Francisco, and the idea of someplace like Santa Cruz seemed pretty appealing. All that changed overnight, and months of anticipation for moving to the Santa Cruz / Bay area was scrapped. Now, Portland, here I come.
I had absolutely no plans whatsoever for what I was doing. Was I permanently moving to Oregon?? I dunno. Am I just visiting?? I dunno. Am I ever coming back to California?? Who knows! Who cares! I didn’t think that far ahead. It was all about the now. No plans, no worries, just enjoy the moment and live like there’s no tomorrow. I was getting back to the way I used to be when I was 20 and 21 years old. Life was finally getting interesting again.
******
The thing about Oregon if you’ve never seen it, is that it’s mostly a whole lot of wilderness. It’s this huge state about the size of Germany, and you’d think it would have been developed and urban, being that it has hundreds of square miles of spare land, but oddly enough, it’s not. Most of it probably looks the same as when the pioneers first arrived on the Oregon Trail 150 years ago. I was shocked at this, coming from such an urban sprawl like SoCal. Any of the major “cities” in Oregon are all off the 5 Freeway, but they just look like farm towns from the highway. Another surprising discovery. Environmentalists would applaud it, and I definitely do agree, I’m not about hacking down all the forests and killing all the wildlife. But I had to wonder, if they could and would develop a desert like SoCal, forcing a square peg into a round hole, then what prevented them from doing the same up here, considering all the abundant natural resources, rain, and fertile soil? Very interesting. Just makes you wonder who owns all the land and what they’re doing with it. Foreign investors? Or “conservation acts” ? You know, just wondering…
During my trip up to Portland for the first time, I drove and drove and DROVE up the 5 north, through winding snakey curves and up and down 2000 foot mountains, and nothing but trees and the occasional smattering of farms. The sky was always cloudy for the most part, with the occasional bit of sun poking through, but never full on bright and sunny or cheerful. This contributes to the overall gloomy vibe that blankets the state. On and on and on, I pressed forward. Then I stopped for gas near Eugene at a Texaco. I thought for sure Eugene would be some sort of city. Ha. Right. Small rural area, again. At least it appeared so from the highway.
When I pulled up to the pump, a guy approached my car, as I simultaneously remembered what my brother had said about gas stations in Oregon…it’s illegal to pump your own gas. State law mandates that gas pumpers do it for you. !! When the guy approached my car, I asked him, “Can’t I pump my own gas?”
“No ma’am,” he shook his head no. He was in his 20’s, with brown hair and a moustache. Looked very Oregon.
“Why not?” I asked, just out of curiosity.
“It creates jobs,” he said, without missing a beat.
“Oh,” I said. I’m sure I looked funny, rolling up in my lowered Mazda with California plates, the designer tires and rims, the tinted windows, my leopard print seat covers and steering wheel cover, butterflies taped to my steering wheel, fairy and butterfly stickers on the windows, and my black cat in my lap. Total California chick, although most of it came with the car when I bought it a week before…yet it was oddly fitting for me at the time. I saw him glance in and take it all in. I gave him a $5 tip when he was done and was on my merry way.
Not even two miles up the road I was pulled over for speeding. Typical Oregon speed traps. The speed limit drops by as much as 20 miles per hour in less than one mile at many parts of the highway, and the cops are just parked, waiting for you on the side of the road. More revenue generators in a state that I would later learn is economically crippled. They have to literally invent ways to bilk money. Speed traps. Mandated gas station pump attendants. Mandatory snow chains when it’s not even necessary. And on and on and on.
Urban civilization didn’t appear in Oregon until I hit Salem, the state capital, 50 miles south of Portland. From the highway I could see actual stores, like Best Buy, and Circuit City, all the same places familiar to me from Southern California.
I arrived in Portland without further incident within an hour after that. I was passing through the heart of the city under the cloudy gray white sky, still on the 5. It was very old and industrial looking, and on the water. There were bridges galore, and brick buildings, and multi-layered freeway overpasses. Signs directed people to the 405 North, and Seattle, and Swan Island. It was a whole different world up here, felt completely different from any place I’d ever been. My first thought upon hitting Portland, taking all this in, was NOOOOOOO. I DON’T THINK SO. It was an immediate gut intuitive instinct. I knew instantly that I would not be settling here permanently, even though I was kind of hoping in the back of my mind that I would, and it would be cool, and I could just stay and everything would work out. It wasn’t the look of the city that created this instant repulsion……it was something else I couldn’t place at the time. Something about the whole city felt instantly wrong to me, it had a bad vibe, something that made me very uncomfortable.
I located my brother’s apartment in North Portland, parked, and went inside to talk to the building manager. Joe wasn’t home at the moment, so I headed back out to my car. Since I was waiting, I decided to go exploring around the neighborhood, check out the scene. I left Kitty curled up on the front seat of my car with the window cracked while I went for a quick walkabout thing. (This wasn’t a problem since it was cloudy and cool. Kitty wasn’t in any danger.)
North Portland neighborhood
Well……that didn’t last very long. I managed to cross the street and make it to the next signal down before being so overwhelmed by the strangest feeling of something disturbing. There was something majorly profoundly WRONG about this place, I had no other way to describe it. !! It felt wrong in every way, and yet, there was absolutely nothing bad happening around me to justify this feeling. The day was mellow and quiet, there weren’t very many people out, nothing bad going on. But the vibe was very off. I had no idea what it was, I couldn’t put my finger on it.
My steps slowed to a complete stop, so that I was now just standing still in the middle of the sidewalk, looking around at everything, curiously, thinking, WHAT the…?!?
I spun around in a slow circle, trying to figure out what the problem was, why things felt wrong. I stopped circling about and stood still again. I was in front of a smoke shop, smelling of incense. That’s always a cool thing, right? Sure, usually.
I was so disturbed that I was now getting scared. I’d never experienced something like this before. Finally the feeling became so overwhelming that I panicked and ran back to my car. Got inside the car, picked up Kitty, sunk down in the seat and clutched her for security. I would wait for Joe here.
And right then, Joe pulled up next to my car, still driving my old Nissan I’d given him so he could leave California. JOE! Thank God. I didn’t want to be waiting around all afternoon alone, in this place with the weird crazy vibes. I rolled down my window. He grinned at me.
I immediately settled in to my new “residence”, which was a one room hole in an ancient building that Joe was renting, and set about on my adventures. I could care less about my living environment. I didn’t seem to care about anything anymore actually at that point. I just wanted something new and to have a good time. Life had been on endless monotony before this. Now, the party had just begun.
******
The City
I’d NEVER seen a city that looked like this place. It was trippy. When I would run errands downtown on my lunch break, I spent my time walking with my head up, looking around at everything. No matter how many times I saw it, day in and day out for the my first three months, it never got old. Portland is situated between the Willamette and the Columbia Rivers, with probably at least six bridges crisscrossing it in the downtown area alone, giving the city the nickname of “The City Of Bridges.” The city is a mix of old industrial and modern. Many of the streets downtown are one way, and the buildings aren’t your typical skyscrapers. There is extremely unusual modern architecture and color choices going on, mixed in with old ornate brick apartment buildings, Gothic style courthouses, brick paver sidewalks, old fashioned lamp posts and signs, leftover cobblestone side streets from the 1800’s, white Christmas lights in the tree lined streets.
Great mix of old and new…
Fast food restaurants mixed with trendy bars and hoity toity restaurants, old renovated theaters, and hotels. Uppity expensive clothing boutiques, funky little independently owned shops, and nationwide mass market corporation chain stores, all mixed together. There are both commuter tram lines and freight train lines that run right through downtown, and about a bezillion buses on any given street, at any given time. I’ve never seen such a complex bus system. You can be anywhere in the city and never have to worry about whether or not there’s a busline nearby. Pretty much every street in the city is covered, it seems. Portland is very “green,” as the meme goes.
Portland at its best…the nice part of the downtown financial district
6th Avenue, downtown, more nice
Leaving the nice downtown area and crossing the bridge to get to MLK brings you to the run down industrial ghetto area by the water that I’d seen when I first arrived into town.
We spent a lot of time poking around that area. Dark and dreary, worn out old brick buildings and warehouses, things covered in graffiti, signs of homeless people all around – cardboard box homes and tarps, an old, abandoned spray painted garbage truck converted into a home, needles and aluminum foil on the sidewalk, human poo all over – be careful where you step – and vomit chunks on the ground. My brother swears he witnessed illegal chemical dumping in the river in this area. Said he watched a truck back up to the riverbank and just let it fly. But like most things, there was no proof. We liked to stand right on the edge of the river and stare at the nasty looking water and imagine touching it…swimming in it…..then shudder and giggle.
The ghetto, with 5 freeway overpass
A cool bit of graffiti signage
North Portland, where Joe’s apartment was, is a mellow but tired area along the Columbia River, surrounded by the 5 freeway, the sludgy gross Columbia Slough, Portland International Airport, the freight train lines, abandoned warehouses, and the bridge leading to Vancouver, Washington that has the view of Mt. Hood in the distance on a clear day. The freight trains carrying empty box cars pass through periodically, their emptiness echoing as they pass over the gate crossings on the roads. Where they’re going, and why they were always empty was a mystery.
My brother claimed that there were “tent cities” in Portland, and one not too far from where we lived, although I never bothered to investigate. I wish I had though, that would have been a good thing to verify. Since that time, after the economic crash starting in 2008, tent cities have become commonplace in many urban areas around the country, in particular California. But at that time I’d never heard of such a thing. My own naivete, I guess.
And the rest of what makes up Portland, between the outskirts along the rivers, and downtown, is a mixture of old, weather beaten residential neighborhoods with big old houses that have faded paint, porches, chimneys, and ornate trim; and run down, or boarded up local businesses painted in bright bizarre colors with hand painted signs, or plain signs with 50’s and 60’s style writing. The streets in most of Portland are riddled with gaping potholes, metal construction plates and the like, because apparently the city is too financially poor to fix them. It messes up your car if you don’t pay attention so you have to take it into the shop – thus, generating revenue for the local economy, I guess is one “positive” way of looking at it. ;) Whacked out billboards line the roads, with liberal-slanted messages involving alcohol, guns, drunk driving, education, and such.
A little…suggestive? Kind of like it’s commanding you to do exactly this. And what exactly is a “windmill slam”?!
And as mentioned earlier, rampant alcoholism is a big problem. Most of the stores that I’d seen that carried liquor were usually completely cleaned out of nearly everything, which I’d never seen before. Shortly after arriving in Portland I was driving down Lombard one typical gloomy gray day when I happened to glance over and noticed a dishevled looking woman pushing a shopping cart on the sidewalk alongside the road, loaded to the brim with all kinds of cases of alcohol. It was like Nicholas Cage in the movie, “Leaving Las Vegas” or something. I didn’t have my camera on me, but because of this one incident I learned never to be without a camera in Portland, ever. !!! But if buying alcohol at the store and bringing it home isn’t what you’re looking for and you want some comraderie, then have no fear……bars, as well as strip bar combos, are about every ten feet in Portland. Too many to count. Drinking and looking at boobies seems to be the city pastime. ;D Another time my brother burst into our apartment, the most excited I’d ever seen him, probably in life, seriously, yelling “CARISSA GET YOUR CAMERA GET YOUR CAMERA!!! RICHARD’S PUSHING HIS WALKER DOWN THE SIDEWALK AND HE’S GOT A BOTTLE OF JACK DANIELS IN IT WITH A TUBE SO HE CAN DRINK!!!!! GET YOUR CAMERA GET YOUR CAMERA COME ON!!” Apparently Richard, the building manager, was so drunk that he was using a walker to keep himself up, and had a bottle of JD in the pouch…with a plastic tube coming from the bottle, so he could keep sipping from it while he pushed. I grabbed my camera and barreled down the stairs after Joe, racing out to the sidewalk. But alas, Richard had already made it inside. My brother looked truly crushed at this lost photo op. He couldn’t stop talking about it for days!
“Dancin’ Bare” bar and strip joint one block up from where we lived. Great pic because of the lighting and color. Taken in the afternoon after a rain.
Another great pic of some cool little hole in the wall tavern.
Then there was Columbia Park. We never went in, something was too eerie and foreboding about it, so I just stood on the outside edges and took pics through the wrought iron fence. Bright green, close cropped, neat and tidy grass with huge trees creating that dark and foreboding feel. Benches and walkways…but rarely any people walking around in it. From what I’d heard, that’s where the drug dealers cavorted at night to make deals. It was just so perfect and tidy looking, and yet creepy, all at the same time. The Portland Paradox.
Portland didn’t look real, (to me) whether it was the financial downtown business district, the industrial ghetto section, the residential outskirts, the public parks, or the weird mellow neighborhoods of north Portland, around where we lived. It looked more like something manufactured for a movie set. And maybe this impression was amplified due to the vibe of it all, that strange bizarre feeling I first experienced when I rolled into town. Watching “Dark City” two months after I got there really drove this point home, with the entire look of the city in the movie. Dark City’s look is a mixture of 1940’s style and present day; industrial ghetto, Gothic, and modern architecture, gloomy and depressed, along a river. It reminded me of Portland in a lot of ways.
The People
No doubt, Portland has the friendliest people I’ve ever dealt with out of all the places I’d been to or lived. I have to give them that. Most are mellow, laid back, helpful, and just all around nice. You don’t see rudeness and people acting like jerks, and people carrying on. If you’re lost, there’s always somebody who would gladly, and cheerfully, give you directions and help you along. But the same thing that makes them the most mellow, laid back and friendly people you’ll ever meet also seems to make them seem like zombies, drifting along, oblivious to the strangeness that is Portland.
There seems to be two clear and distinct classes or groups going on – those who are financially doing well, and those that aren’t. And many aren’t. Store shelves are cleaned out of alcohol as mentioned, homeless people and panhandlers are everywhere, people openly picking and foraging through trash in broad daylight, they don’t care.
You see able bodied young people in their twenties begging for money downtown. On my lunch break on yet another cloudy gloomy afternoon I came face to face with a white, 20-something, able bodied female hippy looking type hitting me up for money in casual, chipper good spirits. I just frowned at her, perplexed thinking What the hell? And this is coming from me, who normally has sympathy for homeless people and gives them money. But I guess I just don’t have sympathy for that.
Driving down the street another day in north Portland, I found myself behind a beat up pick up truck with stickers on the back that said I (heart) Orgasms. I (heart) Oral Sex. I had my camera this time. And I got my priceless shot. ;)
Aluminum can recycling is its own industry up in Oregon, because so many people are out of work and have no money. Lines of disheveled people outside the Fred Meyer recycling center, toting bags upon bags upon bags of cans that they’d either drank up themselves, or scrounged from dumpsters…
I’d lived in recycling states before, but I’d just never seen it look like this before, or taken to this level.
Across the street from my brother’s apartment building was an temp agency for manual labor/blue collar jobs. We’d watch as every morning the homeless and grungy would line up outside by 5:30, 6:00 a.m., on those cold dark winter mornings, securing their position in line for work that would never come in. They’d still be there all morning, hanging out inside the office once it opened, drinking the free coffee from little styrofoam cups, watching TV, smoking cigarettes they’d managed to bum. When that rare menial labor job would come in there would be a mad scramble to be the one picked for it. Then they’d take whatever little money they made and go drink it away. My brother had registered with that agency and had gotten some odd jobs here and there through them, so knew what the deal was. But there was pretty much no work to be had at that place. We didn’t know how or why they stayed open. We would joke that the operation was a front for something else.
On the bus, at the store, when you’re out and about anywhere, most people sit, stand or shuffle along like blank zombies, seeming to be sleepwalking through their lives. There’s no feisty life spark in people there. They don’t look around…….or up. The one afternoon when I witnessed the massive chemtrail spraying going on overhead from our neighborhood in north Portland, with trails covering the sky, I stood in the middle of the road taking pictures. Not too many people were out, but for the few who were, nobody would look up. They would stare at me instead, and not look up. Glance at me, then look down again, hurrying off with their hands in their pockets. I couldn’t get them to look UP. Don’t you think if a girl is standing in the middle of the road, pointing a camera at the sky, you’d look to see what she’s looking at? Well, you’d think. But that’s not how the people are there. At work downtown I tried to point out the chemtrails to my coworkers, tried to get them to question strange weather we would experience, but all I’d get were pleasant smiles, glazed over eyes…then they’d walk away. lalala. Asleep at the wheel. Wake me when it’s over. zzzzzzzzzzzz……..
Not only does the population tend to be zombified, but they’re generally unkept, and after awhile I began to notice that they all had this distinct odor of something….what is it? And I finally realized………mildew. Everybody reeks of mildew. Standing next to some dude at the grocery store…….smells like mildew. On the bus…smells like mildew. At the library…smells like mildew. Mildew, EVERYWHERE. I began having to douse myself in my scented oils to drown out the smells of everybody else while I was up there.
Everybody that is, except the black people. There were many in Portland, so it gave me ample time to watch and analyze. They’re animated, and run the gambit of emotions. And they’re the best looking people in the city. The women have their hair and nails done, makeup on, wear nice outfits, shoes and purses, are accessorized and all done up. And the guys in turn dress nice and look good too. Clean clothes, nice and bright, faces clean shaven, hair shaved short or styled in some way. Then you see the white people sitting or standing around them…and it is seriously like night and day. The white collar/office people aside who have to look decent because of what they do, the rest are again, disheveled…that’s the only word to describe it. Oily, dirty, uncombed hair. Scruffy facial hair. No makeup, jewelry or accessories. Beat up rumpled dreary colored ensembles that look as if they were put together from a rummage sale or the Salvation Army or fished out of a dumpster. Dirty, and stinking of BO or mildew. They don’t even try, and they don’t care. Just a huge glaring contrast between the black people and the whites.
Another bizarre thing we continually encountered, and which made my time driving around Portland quite hazardous, were the people who would just….step out in front of my car. The first time it happened I had to hit the brakes and frowned about it but quickly moved on to other thoughts. But it kept happening…again and again, to the point where there was no ignoring it and dismissing it. What, did they not SEE my car?? Was I like, INVISIBLE?? Are they messing with me??……..are they even REAL?? I mean, it got to that point, of having to seriously question whether they were even real. It was because of the way they did it. I would see them up ahead, standing on the side of the road, just staring straight ahead, blankly, not moving. Then right as my car approached, they would slowly and casually step out into the street in front of my car, still staring straight ahead. Not looking at me. It was like it wasn’t real. But I wasn’t going to hit one to find out though.
Between the messed up, pot hole riddled streets and the people that seemed to have a death wish, it was always a risk to drive somewhere. So if I had to, I did so with extreme caution and total alertness. I only drove if I absolutely had to, and luckily was able to take the bus to and from work, which really cut back on my car time. But I’ve never had to be that way with driving in any place I’d been to before, or since. Only Portland.
(A strange thing to mention as a side note was the amount of people hobbling about on crutches. I know, sounds weird, and not worth mentioning, and I wouldn’t have even noticed it myself had Joe not pointed it out. But once he did, I had to realize he was right. It seemed a day didn’t go by where you didn’t see someone hobbling about on crutches, people with broken legs, everywhere. !)
There’s another group I have to mention, just for fun, not for conspiracy. A coworker of mine called them The Shims. She wasn’t from Oregon either – originally she was from England, and had, like me, lived for ten years in Orange County, California. So we had some things in common. And when I’d asked her one day if she’d um, noticed the proliferation of androgynous looking people everywhere who have that short brunette hair, black square framed glasses, white skin, no makeup and unsmiling, non-expressive stoney looks on their faces, she smiled and nodded knowingly. “Yes, the shims. That’s what I call them. The she-hims, shims, because you can’t tell if they’re a boy or a girl.” The Shims. How perfect! :D I’d spent too much time analyzing too many of them on bus rides looking for any sort of defining signs of gender. Breasts?……can’t tell. They’re wearing about twenty layers of clothing. Facial hair?……the skin is baby smooth and porcelain white. Could be a girl. What about the hair then? It’s chopped short unisex……could be a boy. What about the jaw? It’s definitely squarish…so, yeah, I think we’re looking at a guy here…but again, there’s no face stubble. They have that baby smooth skin….
Going in mad circles! ahh! It was always a fun way to pass the time on the bus. Try to figure out the gender of my fellow bus riders. Now that I think about it…maybe it was a conspiracy after all. The Portland Army of the Shims. Ready to take over the world, with their white skin and blank stoney faces and non-defined gender, concealed under twenty layers of clothing, all with the same exact hair style and pair of glasses. Watch out world, here they come. ;)
Near the end of my time there, when I was riding the bus to work one cold and dark morning, I observed as one grungy passenger stood on the rear stairs, waiting to exit. He smiled wearily back to the grungy female passenger he’d been sitting with and said hopefully, “Florida, right? We’re gonna get to Florida? Gonna lie on the beach?”
She nodded, mustering a smile and some hope.
I knew they would never make it out of here. It was like Dark City. “Do you know how to get to Shell Beach?!?” The train going there never stops at the station, nobody can remember how to get there and nobody can get out of the city. It would take a miracle for them based on how they looked. I felt sad watching them, holding on to a dream of getting out of Portland…someday, somehow, someway. Get to a better place, get to Florida. Get to Shell Beach. My plan was also to leave Portland – SOON – and get to the tropical beaches of south Florida next. Witnessing that uncanny synchronistic exchange was my motivator. I was getting out of there, no matter what. And I did. By the end of February I was lying on a beach in Fort Lauderdale.
I sincerely hope they made it out too and found their patch of beach in the sun.
The Conspiracies
If you’re aware and alert, then on the surface, you will probably notice all the things that I’ve mentioned so far. But the rabbit hole goes deeper with Portland. It doesn’t stop with the mellow zombie people and the quirks of the city.
For starters, from a mainstream conspiracy viewpoint, Portland is situated on the Columbia River. All those who’ve researched the Brotherhood / Illuminati will recognize the significance of the name Columbia/Columba and words that contain “Columb”. It’s one of those Brotherhood words that are a marker of sorts and it’s something David Icke has written about in multiple books. District of Columbia, the fake named “Christopher Columbus,” the space shuttle Columbia, the Columbine Highschool shootings, Columbia TriStar Pictures, and on and on. Too many examples to name here.
Besides being the city of bridges, Portland is also known as the city of roses, with its famous rose garden. This is fine and good to the unknowing public and serves as a great surface explanation, but considering the cop cars have roses on them, and the rose (Rosicrucians) are another major Brotherhood symbolism, I tend to think there’s another reason for it all. But hey, let the public have their rose garden explanation. It makes them feel good. ;) Everything is fine, nothing to see here folks, move it along.
What this all means, I’m not quite sure. But it’s Brotherhood symbolisms indicating, to me, that TPTB have their fingers in the city, which establishes that it’s not farfetched then to believe that Portland would therefore, be the target of unusual happenings.
The ELF Waves
My brother had told me about the ELF (extremely low frequency) waves that he heard one night while walking through the neighborhood. He could only hear them when down low to the ground, with his ear near the sidewalk or the street, being that’s where they traveled, hugging the ground. When he was standing up, he heard nothing. Like all Joe stories, I listened with neutral interest since I didn’t have my own immediate proof, and just nodded my head and filed it away. But then one night while lying in bed, wouldn’t you know it, but I heard it. A low, pulsating steady hum that sounded like wwhhhhaaaaam…wwhhhhaaaaam… wwhhhhaaaaam…
I could only hear it when my head was down on my mattress or pillow – I was sleeping on an air mattress which was only a couple inches off the floor – but when I raised my head up into the air, it stopped. I marveled at this for a bit, lifting my head up and down, listening to the wwhhhhaaaaam…wwhhhhaaaaam… wwhhhhaaaaam…My brother confirmed it, and said it was the same sound he heard the other times when he was outside.
Amazing. It doesn’t seem like a good thing, whatever it is. What are these low waves, and why are they broadcasting through the city? What purpose do they serve? Are they affecting the population of the city? Is this why the people are the way they are? More bluntly – Is it mind control?
The circling planes
Another strange phenomen we witnessed were the small white planes that would circle over our north Portland area. At first they could be easily dismissed because we lived right near Portland International Airport (PDX). Problem is…why were they there for hours? For hours they’d circle overhead, around and around and around. Joe claimed that after they’d circle like that clouds would eventually begin to form, leading to rain and more gloom and doom. I can’t say that I ever directly verified this for myself though, so, who knows if that’s what they were up to. I will say this though – One morning I awoke and heard them already circling overhead doing their thing…at 6 a.m. They continued circling around and around over our neighborhood as I stood at the bus stop at the corner in the dark. By 2 p.m. while at work, I mysteriously fell ill and had to go home early – a first for me while at that job. A first for me in general, as something like this had never happened to me before, or since, at any job. I was so dizzy I couldn’t keep standing up, and was weak, lethargic, and unable to think clearly. On the bus ride home, I couldn’t stay awake – another first. I would never normally sleep on a public bus. But I had no choice, I couldn’t stay awake. It was basically passing out, to put it bluntly. So I kept involuntarily passing out. I also collapsed into my seat, unable to keep my balance. I made it home, hurriedly changed my clothes and collapsed again into my bed, dizzy and weak, and immediately passed out. I woke several hours later, around 9 p.m., as my brother was in and out of the apartment, busy with things, and the planes were still circling overhead. Around and around and around…. We both sat there listening to them, like hmmm….. I can’t prove that the planes are connected to my mystery illness, but it’s awfully suspicious.
Manipulated Weather?
Tying into the above was the unusual weather happenings of Portland. Granted, I’d been living in SoCal for ten years, so what did I know about normal winter weather anymore at that point, but, I did grow up in the Northeast – sixteen years in Massachusetts and Connecticut total – so, I think I have some idea of what’s normal and what’s not. But too often the weather was fluctuating like crazy – snow, rain, sun, snow, sun, cloudy, snow – in a very short time span. It was like there were “weather wars” going on. I have two pics that I took less than an hour apart where we lived in North Portland. In the first it’s snowing. In the second there’s blue sky and bright sun. ?!?!? I decided not to post them, because without date / time stamps on the pictures, there’s no way for me to prove to the reader that both pics really were taken in the same place less than an hour apart. There were several times though I tried to broach the subject with my coworkers as we watched the weather outside our downtown office building rapidly change from snow to rain to blue skied sun to snow again, all within an hour. “Gee…the weather sure is strange out there, doncha think?!?” ?!?!? “Boy, the weather sure is strange here in Portland, isn’t it?!?” To which I’d just get mellow dazed smiles, empty eyes, and no response. Change the subject. lalala. zzzzzzzzzzz….
The Chemtrails
Like most of America nowadays, Portland has its fair share of chemtrails. During the afternoon in February, 2002 when we experienced some heavy duty chem spraying, I walked around snapping photos of all the trails that littered the sky overhead. And as mentioned earlier in the People section of this article…nobody else noticed, or would look up. No matter how strange I must have looked standing in the middle of the road, gaping up at the sky pointing my camera. They would either look at me really strange, or just ignore me and hurry off. But not one person would look UP.
Two days after wandering around underneath those trails, taking pics, I coincidentally fell ill with what still is the worst sick I’ve ever been. (Meningitis at one and a half years old aside.) I had some sort of severe flu thing, my lungs completely coated in this mucus. I coughed so hard and for so long I lost my voice, and I was going to bed at 8 p.m. at night because I was too tired and weak to do anything. I had to ride it out and let it run its course, and it took over three weeks to finally go away. I can’t prove that the flu was linked to the trails, but like the circling planes, it’s awfully suspicious, that’s all I can say. After I finally recuperated I witnessed the beginnings of more trail spraying outside our downtown office building. Always hopeful that eventually I could break through to my coworkers, I pointed out the trails to them with some alarm. The response was puzzled and dazed indifference. oh well. I tried.
From what I’ve researched on Rense, chemtrails are a pretty obnoxious problem in the Northwest, and I dug up a few stories in the archives confirming the issue. It seems no part of the country is safe from chemtrail spraying anymore, but possibly certain areas of the country are being hit harder than others. Oregon and Washington encompass an area that’s being heavily targeted. But the question is…………..why ? I have one theory, in a short bit.
The UFOs
I have only one UFO experience that I can claim in my waking life, and it happened in Portland. I’ve read that the UFOs are pretty active in the Northwest, which is pretty interesting. My one big experience happened one night around 10 p.m., when my brother excitedly burst into the apartment, telling me to come look, there was a UFO or something outside by the airport!
Not really believing it, but always curious and willing to look, I followed him out to the fire escape to see. Sure enough, there were two objects just hovering in the distance near where PDX was. One was large, the other was small, and they were just parked there side by side in mid air….and turning all sorts of colors. Red, gold, blue, green, white, and so on, repeating the cycle of colors. They stayed there for quite a long time – enough to know with certainty that they were hovering. Then they seemed to begin moving. The big one grew small….making me think it had flown off……but then it grew large again in the same spot. !!
Then the two objects began moving at right angles. Over to the left, then straight up, and so on.
That’s what did it for me. Mainstream human aircraft doesn’t move like that. Between the colors and the hovering and the right angle movements, I was pretty convinced, these were not regular human craft. I nervously joked that I was going inside in case they came for us. On an amusing side note, in the book “The Mothman Prophesies”, John Keel makes the wry observation that if you want to see a UFO, then go outside on a Wednesday night at 10 p.m. Statistically, that’s when the bulk of UFO sightings seem to occur.
Our UFO sighting? On a Wednesday night. At nearly 10 p.m. on the nose. It’s so strange I had to laugh when I later read that in the book. How bizarre.
Tip: If you go to Rense.com and use their search function on the top of the upper right hand column on the main page, and type in “Oregon”, too many stories to even count will come up regarding all the UFO activity going on in the northwest.
Strange Rules and Laws
I’ll just let the following do the talking:
Portland lemonade stand runs into health inspectors, needs $120 license to operate
Sinister Oregon Plan Underway to Control Children and Families
And I had a couple of links to some Yahoo stories that no longer work, regarding the hugging ban in Oregon schools, the law about prescriptions for cough syrup, and some other stuff. Then there are the stories that I never got links to regarding the way cops started clubbing and macing people who were peacefully protesting the Iraq War in Portland, back in 2003, as well as other random things I’ve heard or read over the years that I wish I could have had a link to. The common denominators in these stories are either tyrannical laws for controlling the population, or ways to milk people for more money, since once again, Oregon as a whole is so poverty stricken they have to invent ways to generate revenue. What’s sad is that so many residents of Oregon believe they’re living in some free spirited hippie environmental counter culture state. They haven’t seemed to notice all this stuff creeping up on them.
Portland’s Annual Murder Map
This one’s so quirky it gets its own sub-heading. But apparently every year at the beginning of January, The Oregonian newspaper publishes a list of all of Portland’s previous year homicides, and a corresponding map of Portland, with numbers that match up to each homicide. Each person’s name is listed, a pic (from when they were alive) if available, and a write up on how they were killed. “…sexually assaulted….” “…strangled…” “…strangled and sexually assaulted…” “…murder by abuse…” “…shot…” “…stabbed…” “…case is still unsolved…”
Portland probably thinks this is normal, but I really don’t think it is. I’ve never seen it anywhere else I’ve lived. And maybe it’s not such a big deal, but it just struck me as being odd at the time that I saw it, and so it became yet another clipping from the paper to puzzle over. And when I’ve mentioned it to several people they were surprised too. One didn’t even believe me at first. “No way…” Usually the most you’ll ever see in a newspaper is a tastefully written obituary, where half the time the cause of death is kept private. So to see everybody’s gory details splayed out in the paper, with their pictures and a map included was just…surprising, to say the least. Just sort of didn’t seem right for some reason. Especially when it concerned kids.
Some theories
So what does it all mean? What IS going on in Oregon?
The basic summary, which would satisfy even the most fringe conspiracy theorists, is that Oregon as a whole is a testing grounds of sorts, a place where boundaries can be pushed to see how far the public will let TPTB go. Why Oregon? Answer: Because whoever thinks of Oregon?? I mean, to put it bluntly. If you’re not on the west coast, do you ever think about Oregon? Northern California aside, most people in California rarely if ever think about Oregon, and California borders Oregon. Oregon is just that large chunk of land that’s in the way when you’re trying to get north to Seattle or Canada. And for that very reason, because of its low key, off-the-radar quality and abundant ruralness, it’s a great place to test things out, see what you can get away with. Pass strange laws, do weird things….experiment on the population. Not too many people are flocking to Oregon as a vacation destination, and not many ever leave. Relatively low incoming/outgoing traffic. Which means word won’t get out as easily or as quickly about unusual happenings when people aren’t flocking in, and those who are already there are just staying put and are under control. Things seem relatively stagnant.
But like I said, that’s the explanation to satisfy most conspiracy theorists. But I’m not most conspiracy theorists, so my theory has another layer, and goes a little deeper.
Previously I mentioned dimensional portals and realm bleed throughs in relation to Portland. When I initially did my message board write up on Oregon, I purposely didn’t mention some of the things that my brother told me…including this aspect of things. According to him, entire chunks of the city aren’t even real anymore, there are areas of the city that you don’t want to even go near as a result. Dimensional portals. I didn’t want to seem like a fruit loop, so, I just skimmed the surface and didn’t mention these things. Plus, I didn’t have proof for it anyway. For all I know it’s disinformation that would make me look stupid should I put it out there. But then another poster whom I became off forum buddies with enthusiastically responded to the thread, and went ahead and mentioned these things first, corroborating what I’d been told. Some things she specifically noted were:
“The friend we stayed with was in a deep depression, the area was a demon dimension bleed through. I do not know how else to describe it….”
“…saw a bumper sticker that said “Keep Portland weird” apropos indeed… the rest felt so completely icky to me that I could not wait to get out of there. I have traveled all over and never wanted out of a place like that. I had to constantly find my center, breath, focus and keep a mirrored egg around myself because there were so many low frequency beings. The hum of city was poverty and despair. Yet it was mostly beautiful to look at….”
“…also gave money to a man who was in so much pain I could not pass him by. He was afraid as I was approaching him, it was singular, he had the look and desperation of a drug addict way over do for a fix but there was something else to it. I touched his hand as I put money in it and a surge of energy went into him… I heard within that he was trapped here from another dimension; I do not know how that could happen or what dimension he was from but I saw a planet in my minds eye as the message came that did not look like earth at all. Needless to say, Portland is not in fear of becoming not weird anytime soon….”
“…My very close friend lived there for two years…but basically the reason we went to get her stuff is because I had to intervene to get her out of there. Portland did a number on her. When she showed up at my house, I barely recognized her. It took over a month and steady hard core healings, detoxifying, long therapy sessions to ease her back. I have never seen anything like it….”
We soon became off-forum buddies as mentioned, and in personal emails she would confirm things ten times stranger than this, including the fact that there are areas of the city you don’t want to go through, and things being fake, things “changing” due to the variable nature of reality in parts. Again, having withheld the information from her posts due to it being a public message board and all. What she described definitely seemed to match up to a portal, or realm bleed through of sorts; so it’s almost as if 3rd density Portland is fading in and out, while other realms are coming together, bleeding through. There are “people” coming in from other “areas”, and the vibe overall has just the most bizarre feel to it as a result. So maybe that’s what I was feeling when I first arrived, and then tried to go for a walk around the block.
So, very, very interesting indeed. ! It was exciting for me anyway to read this after what I’d felt and seen and experienced, and considering what Joe had told me about Portland.
The next question that begs to be asked is, do “the powers that be” know anything about all of this? ?! Or is just us nutty intuitive types who sense all this fun-for-the-whole-family wackiness?
My belief? Absolutely, yes. Not only do they know, but they’re fully exploiting it and helping to “stir the pot” you could say. But not the surface level government as we know it. (to be honest, I never even think of the surface level government anymore; they don’t exist to me. When I think of who’s in control, I just immediately think of the behind-the-scenes string pullers, the black ops factions of the military and so forth. The ones who are really in charge.)
In doing the research, you’ll come across references to underground bases and tunnels in Northern California, Oregon and Washington, usually situated near or within the Cascade mountains themselves – Mt. Shasta, Mt. Hood, Mt. Rainer. Mention of UFO bases also comes up again and again for this area, explaining why this area is saturated in UFO activity. For those who may not be aware, bases are usually situated on energy vortices, and areas with dimensional activity happening. It makes for a base that’s both 3rd and 4th density, harboring both human and non-human entities alike. Oregon and the northwest as a whole seem to be high in energy and vortices, making things conducive to dimensional bleed throughs and so on. TPTB know this, and have built and established their operations accordingly. They go where the energy is. Pay attention to where secret military base activity is geographically – it’s usually near or on areas known for their “unusual energy.” Nevada, Arizona, New Mexico, Utah and Colorado is the number one area in this country for both above and below ground base activity, and it’s for a good reason. People flock every year to these regions to revel in the supposed “southwest energies” that are naturally present. And they’re not the only ones who’ve noticed it, apparently.
Various other sources have mentioned base activity in the northwest, so I recommend researching the matter further if it’s something that interests you. The only problem I have with research of the conspiracy type is that over and over it’s the same material appearing on website after website. There’s a lack of new and original material going up, and instead, an epidemic of “cut and paste”, where people slap something on their site that they in turn came across from someone else, so you have 5,000 websites all posting the same one or two things. When I did a search on Portland Oregon underground bases I just kept pulling up site after site that all quoted the same Phil Schneider speech from years ago. It got old, very quickly. Maybe you’ll have more patience than I with finding fresh material.
When it comes to the behind-the-scenes “Thems” there’s never any one group, and it seems that everybody’s working for their own agenda at cross purposes. Personally, Portland felt to me like a total free-for-all. There is no organized “Man in Charge”, there is no common goal, there is no big design or plan to anything. It’s a case of anything goes. You have your UFOs and the bases they’re coming and going from; you have your supposed military/reptilian underground bases within Mt. Hood and the surrounding mountain range and the tunnel systems they’ve spawned; you have entire chunks of the city that maybe aren’t real, with other realms bleeding through, and “people” coming and going; you have population experimentation that squelches any economic progress, mind control waves being beamed out, people driven to drink and just turn off mentally and not think, not notice anything, not care, and just give up on life; weather manipulation to keep things purposely gloomy and doomy. There’s groups that might be trying to cover up what’s happening in Portland, smoothing things over so it’s “business as usual” and life can continue as normal as possible, (for Portland, anyway…) which means you may have a few holographic inserts thrown in as well. And so on and so forth. One giant free for all. I can only imagine what I’d feel and experience were I to go back now, four years later, with what I know now, and my intuitive abilities cranked up a few notches from what it was back then.
Multnomah Falls, east of Portland
Portland for me was the best time I ever had, for all the good and bad (most of which isn’t covered here being that it’s personal side story, even if it is hyperdimensional and totally “woo woo” and interesting), and part of me is always wishing to go back and visit. I don’t wish too hard for that though, because you know what they say – be careful what you wish for, because you just might get it. I feel like I probably barely got out of there the first time I was there, so going back may not be such a smart idea. There is that weird draw though, still. The funny part is…I heard Seattle is even worse. ! Now that would be a fun place to visit…….
c. 2006
Carissa Conti