Here is the article itself...and even though it is quite extraordinary....it is quite believable to myself...once the ill decide to 'do you in'....they 'leave no stone unturned'...'everything turns to ashes' in your hands and you end up like a bewildered animal, frightened and alone - separated from the herd...unable to reason out, how come you had 'so much bad luck'...

For my own part - it was men lined up to befriend/seduce/impregnate me...so that the ill could eat from my womb:


http://www.henrymakow.com/

Below -- "Satanist Insider Gloats Over Dire Prospects" (scroll down)
Bigger Text | Default Text | Smaller Text | ShareThisMemoir of a Male Masochist
April 2, 2011



"The sexually liberated women I met analyzed my psychology in order to gain control and dominance over me. "



By William F. Dement
(for henrymakow.com)

In the 80s and early 90s, I was desperately trying to find a simple woman with traditional values to marry

I was a police Sergeant in Greenwich Village and met an assortment of women: aspiring actresses, models, talk show producers, bartenders, fashion designers, teachers, college students, etc.

I met them on police calls, while on patrol, and at bars. While pursuing a graduate degree at NYU, I also met and dated many female grad students. I was chagrined to discover that, no matter their background, most of these women were man-haters.

The sexually liberated women I met analyzed my psychology in order to gain control and dominance over me.

As a police officer, I fancied myself hard, cool and calculating. Some of the women I dated ripped down my pretenses within a few dates.

As the power dynamic shifted, panic often ensued. When I had the good sense, I ran for the hills. Other times, I was not so lucky. I was in for the ride. The woman was always five moves ahead of me.

Eventually I learned how the game was played. One night, I talked to the girlfriend of the girl I was dating.

Everything I had said was relayed back to the "team." Since I wore my heart on my sleeve, they devised the plan. I was slowly reeled in.

My date told me how "scared she was of commitment," how she wanted to "go slow." Within a few dates, we were fast forwarded as she rocked my world sexually.

The beginning dinner dates where she offered to pay her own way were replaced with four-star restaurants in Manhattan where I paid.

Then the disappearing sessions started and I was told the ex-boyfriend was trying to get her back.

They worked me through a whole gambit of emotions: lust, love, anger, resentment, rage, self pity, and jealousy. She even made a duplicate key to my apartment and rummaged through my personal folders, computer, and phone records.

She knew everything about me and all I really knew about her was the fabricated picture she had given me.

I ran through similar scenarios in other dating relationships. In one case, I found out a year later that a French graduate student I dated while at NYU and whom I had dumped when I found out she had a girlfriend on the side, had made several wild accusations against me to the police department's Internal Affairs Bureau. While no crime was spelled out, it was highly embarrassing and it cost me a high position in the Police Department.

I then dated a computer programmer who drugged me one New Year's Eve. I woke up the next evening tucked under the covers, stark naked, with no recollection of the previous nights events. She told me I simply fell asleep. When I finally got rid of her, it took me two years to repair my credit due to the anonymous credit card charges that incidentally coincided with our breakup.

My final foray was with a woman that was several years my senior. I met her at Hunter College. She told me she was a divorced Italian-American woman. Turns out she was married to a Mafioso type named Joey.

A month later, he called asking me to "go halves" on an abortion because "it wasn't his doing." Ready to puke and trembling I hung up. About a month later Joey called and told me, " It worked out. She had a miscarriage."

I used to try to understand these women. The French graduate student was a work-a-holic banker by day and student at night. Everything in her life was fast and furious. There was no place for family. I should have seen it coming. I should have realized that men were simply commodities to throw away. Lesbianism, I surmised was for her just something to pass the time.

As for the computer programmer, she was psychotic-plain and simple. The Italian American woman was different. She married Joey at 17 and raised wonderful children. They had plenty of money and a great family.

But that was not enough for her so she hatched an elaborate lie for me. She spent months away from her family, living with me saying the supposedly ex- husband, Joey, was an abuser.

I became skeptical that there were any good women left. I ran into the first girlfriend years later at a precinct party. She was a broken woman and apologized for how badly she had treated me.

She had been in relationships where she was on the other side of the power dynamic and paid the price. What goes around comes around, she told me.

One of the common denominators with these man-haters was their family background. Several women grew up in broken families and there were histories of physical or sexual abuse early on. They couldn't trust men.

They say it takes two to tango. I willingly went along for the ride.

An old Chinese proverb states "Insanity is doing the same thing in the same way and expecting a different outcome."

After years of searching, I am now married to an attractive Irish American woman; tall, lean, blue eyes, brown hair, a "plain Jane" type that wears no makeup. We have two children, my son who is 13, and daughter who is ten.

We were introduced through a friend. I valued her honesty above all. She was unpretentious and real. We had common dreams -- kids, family, growing old together. To this day she does not tell me about her past dating experiences. She simply lists them as "losers.'

She had no problem staying home to care for the kids while I worked. I told her about my dream-to retire and move to rural New Mexico and together we made it happen. When my health declined due to 9/11 exposure, she agreed to go back to work full time as a nurse.

Our love is unconditional. Perhaps it was because we were older when we married that we were realistic. We never bought into the media depiction of what the perfect marriage should be. It simply is not realistic.