Wednesday, April 18, 2012
Thursday, October 08, 2009
EVERY month I am being maliciously prosecuted in Klamath Falls, Oregon. This is a result of the arbitrary arrests from Napa, California. This is like the movie Changelling where the police were so busy trying to commit a mother to a mental institution they failed to prevent or thwart the Chicken Coop murders of countless boys. Eerily similar, we have had 4 murders in 8 weeks in Klamath Falls, Oregon.
On September 2, 2009 more than 7 Klamath County Sheriffs, code enforcement, and dog control were congregated at my barn. Then, 7 Klamath County Sheriffs, code enforcement, and dog control immediately thereafter congregated at my home ready to arrest me for “reckless endangerment” as a result of a superficial dog bite a man sustained.
Klamath County Sheriff's Office and Court Judges Roxanne Osborn and Richard Rambo were unable to control their deputized punks and hooligans from menacing the living daylights out of me so I was unable to control my animal.
Around the same time victim Michael Doherty sustained severely lacerated fingers from a Pit Bull owned by Michael and Lisa Lunt. Their dog was neither confiscated nor the owners arrested for “reckless endangerment.” And, as far as I know, they did not have to pay physician costs. Instead, the police blamed it on Doherty’s dog that is a friendly border collie.
On September 3, 2009, a man was murdered down the street from me. The Klamath Falls Sheriff’s Department is bent on mentally institutionalizing me. They are being deliberately negligent in solving or thwarting more crimes of a higher magnitude. While countless trailers are “illegal camping,” I have been the one who has been maliciously prosecuted while under constant surveillance.
To date, regardless, of the severe human rights violations now pending and under preliminary examination at the International Court level, the city and county of Klamath Falls, Oregon, continues to use their deputized community to paralyze me with fear and terror.Newspaper Article: http://heraldandnews.com/articles/2009/09/07/top_story/doc4aa35400f1247788698803.txt This does not include the rape that occurred with a few miles of my home
Please, do not review my home website at www.kinispolarbear.bravehost.com where evidence of torture was uploaded, pain and suffering damages logged. An unknown intrusive force has deactivated my links so that the U.S. Government can subject me with their continued pattern of unrelenting malicious prosecutions, retaliation, and torture.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
The Alan Story-By Kini
Sometime during 2001, I had a friend, T.C. We went to college together and she introduced me to the wild horse sanctuary in Susanville, CA. T.C. listened to my plight and advised me to go to the Geneva Convention in Switzerland. I told T.C. that I did not feel that I had reached the top of the chain of command according to the requirements of the justice system.
Many months prior to T.C.’s advice, I heard that soft still voice at night in the fiber of my soul pestering me to seek out Alan. “Call Alan. Don’t your remember Alan?” said the voice. I often thought about my cousin, Alan, and when I lived at my grandmother’s home in Alan’s old bedroom. I remember looking into the closet and admiring his wonderful military uniforms. Many weeks went by that I ignored this “voice”. But, the voice kept on, “Call Alan. Don’t your remember Alan?” said the voice. I thought back, “Yes, L-rd, the last time I saw him was at his wedding when he married Debbie. I remember, L-rd, he played a bit part in a movie called ‘Tunnel Vision’”. “Call him!” demanded the voice in my heart.
Part of my parole conditions was that I not use the internet. Finally, after parole, one day, me and T.C. were in the computer lab and I did a Google search for Alan. I thought, what could he be doing? He was probably a small time lawyer in some town. When his profile came up, he was not only a small time lawyer but he had a lengthy judicial history and he was stationed in Geneva, Switzerland, when he was a young man.
My jaw dropped and I started to scream, “TC!” “TC!” come over to the screen and check this out. Since I was out dated with computer work, T.C. helped me set up an email address but I was unable to send out my legal work. So, I snail mailed the best I could muster. But, I never heard from him.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Good cause exists for the appearance of the witness for the following reasons:
1. To prove how law enforcement uses the lowest forms of society to keep a woman incompetent so that she will never see her children again.
2. To prove how the U.S. Government and their reps coddle grown men by enabling them to use women for unjust servitude.
Thursday, May 01, 2008
The Latest Delusion
I went in and like a thousand others had to ask what had happened. After being cued into the story by a girl that “looked like the love of my life,” I checked out with my borrowed DVD's and went next door to get a second opinion. Surely enough, the stories matched.
Evidently, a man had gotten drunk and smashed the windows with a rock. He then
went in, took the petty cash, and left. He was busted when he felt guilty and took the petty cash back.
The same day, I found out that at 9:12 am, there was a four-car pileup in an intersection a few blocks of where I live. A woman was driving between 35 and 40 mph when she failed to brake, crashing into other cars stopped in a turn lane at the stoplight. Her SUV landed on its driver's side. The woman was extricated through the windshield of her vehicle, and the Jaws of Life was used to open the door of a
Sometimes when I feel a wrong(s) has been committed against me, I become desperate and look for deep meaningful reflections of contrition because I cannot obtain it in any other sort of reality. What do the dates mean? What do the numbers mean? And, what is symbolic of the glass shattering? So, I want to thank the people who know me well or who should know me well; the police, the judges, the media, the public defenders and other lawyers, the activists, and all public agencies that know me and my case well.
Thank you all for really going out of your way to spend money, the sacrifice of your property, and the risk of peoples lives to stage these events. You have definitely expressed your remorse to me. Now, can I have my paychecks?
Wednesday, January 02, 2008
At one of my most desperate times while on the run as a female "sex offender", I clung on to several churches in Susanville, California. The Church of the Nazarene, a Baptist Church, and the Calvary Chapel. The Calvary Chapel was the most convenient for me because it was on the same block. In addition, they had a decent faith for Jews who were Messianic, like myself. I could relate to alot of what they discussed.
Unfortunately, by having enquiring minds, they came to the conclusion that I had "deviant sexual tendencies". Besides that, it never took long for the cops to locate me. Once they did, it was only a short time before they would bad mouth me right out of town or a job.
When I lost my driver's license, I was subjected to walk all over the town. One young punk was a member of the church. He also worked at Kragen's Auto. He would ride around in his jeep with his blond girlfriend and they would snicker and laugh.
I knew that he was going to dump her because she was "for sex" material. Although she was kind of good looking, she had a pug nose. She would laugh with the young punk: You know how they try to impress their boyfriends? But, I just knew he was using her and would someday dump her.
Sure enough, a newspaper article came out a couple years later. The young punk (I also had reason to suspect him of slashing my tires), was going to marry someone else, the church secretary.
Today, as I have to walk around town, there are the punks who I see laughing while they drive by with their girlfriends. If you have a discerning spirit, you can always tell the girls who are oblivious to their surroundings or what the punks in this town know.
I want to tell the women that when the men dump you or file for divorce, take your children, take your home, leave you penniless, (despite community property laws) and leave you feeling like an used up empty shell, we will have the last laugh.
So, in case your ego or other conflicting feelings get in the way, I don't do straight women, sloppy seconds, thirds, forths, and sluts. And, if you are the kind of aware woman who thinks this whole thing is discusting, I think you are discusting too! The stench of your body, your ignorance, and every other smelly thing about you. The older you get, the frumpier you'll smell. The more evil you are, the more your husband or boyfriend will find someone to have an affair with.
I detest your presence. You don't teach me a thing, only hatred. We can be picky people and the straight people should learn from animals and gay people of the community how to conduct civilized, committed, relationships.
By the way, I found out later from the newspaper that the young punk turned out to be the son of my parole officer, Marvin Clark; Grant Clark.