It's My Story and I'll cry if I want to

Camille doesn't realize how much she's helping me write about a dark period I have deep reservations about delving into. Some people like to label everything in black and white. "Mick Jagger and the Rolling Stones are Satanic" -- is a cliché we're all very familiar with. I prefer "Luciferian". The British Invasion was cooked up in London and served to America in 1964. Before the Beatles there was plenty of great music on American AM stations - I grew up listening to it and still know most of it by heart. But then came the Beatles -- exotic, cute and clever, promoted to the hilt so even though my pubescent friends and I were underwhelmed by their first appearance on Ed Sullivan, the hype primed us for things to come, i.e. the bad boys who really rocked, who really ripped this joint. The Rolling Stones we'd been waiting for, who came from Hell. My version of this often-told tale begins when I'm 5 and placed in an experiment at McGill University with older kids who have been chosen. I witness horrors, distorted by fear and LSD, which are so traumatic I forget them. Later on I am flown to distant sites where children are tortured- I try to tell my mother but she says I just had a bad dream. This is my childhood, half idyllic, half lived in hell. I'm a little girl growing up in a normal family that doesn't know what they are involved with until bad things start to happen in plain sight. On a few occasions, often in summer, I meet a young boy who is in the program. He's smart and wears his hair in a greasy Eddie Cochrane pompadour, and likes to jump around and make me laugh. I'm just a little girl who cries a lot, but he protects me. He meets my mom. We fall in love. Or he falls in love with my tall, elegant mother who has a big, kind heart. Its all like a dream. When he leaves to go back to England, the scientists wipe my memory, but 13 year old Mike lives in my imagination like Peter Pan. He's going to be a star someday, but he's also a mind controlled "super soldier" from the Tavistock program in London. Think of Jumping Jack Flash" and ask where those demonic lyrics came from. Mick Jagger survived Hell and talks about it. Normalizes it, but also warns about it. The choice is ours. Despite their wealth and fame, the Rolling Stones started out innocent, as guinea pigs, ambitious kids exploited by the hidden higher-ups in the BBC and the military, who also hired and protected Jimmy Savile. Whatever the Stones later became -- raunchy rebels, or decadent has-beens -- has nothing to do with me in 1963 when I was sent to London and swallowed by a child trafficking operation that tried to turn me into a prostitute for the music industry. My father's resistance saved me from ending up like so many girls who fell into the machinery of the rock and roll industry-- that rescued postwar England from poverty and hopelessness. This is my story, Camille -- not yours. We both went to London in 1963 but I got there first. Anyone who attacks her imaginary adversaries in "public" but won't level with them is just a silly coward and fake whose phony entitlement covers up for her tragically low self-esteem. If you want to be respected, Camille, come out in the open. Otherwise people see you as a spiteful, jealous bit player wearing a costume that is too big for you. The story I'm telling -- cautiously -- about meeting a future rock star through the Tavistock program -- has been deeply buried behind layers of secrecy and mind control for decades. By telling it, I'm drawing on big names in the rock and roll hierarchy who, when my family knew them, were innocent children. One in particular went on to become the most famous frontman of our generation. Incredibly, I forgot him because my family and I were attacked and brainwashed by the same entities that promoted him to stardom. That's the strange truth and it happened. But he didnt forget me. It has taken me decades to figure out why. *** Camille Russo comes from the musical elite that engineered the British Invasion which was a Tavistock project. Whether knowingly or not, she grew up inside that world and thinks that's all there is. She religiously insists anyone who says they went to London in 1963 is stealing her story "lock, stock and barrel" -- a jaw dropping claim that she can't defend. She clearly does not read, or if she does, her comprehension skills are at Grade 6 level, which is the age she went to London. Instead of engaging with the people she attacks -- Jagger, and me to name just two -- she brags about her semi-famous father and stepfather who managed bands and trafficked her to rock stars like Robert Plant. Then we hear no more of her life as she disappears into some strange Christian Twilight Zone. I get the feeling it hasn't been a picnic but whose life is? If you want us to believe I stole your story, Camille, first you need to share it.