Two Types of Love

I have known two different types of love. Both were genuine.

The first type is very cautious not to hurt your feelings. It’s cautious with its words and gestures, and covers your faults so that you can rest easy.

The second type is tougher. I guess in the vernacular of the day I’d liken it to a “red pill”. It will hurt your feelings and make you aware of unpleasant truths in the short term so that you can survive and thrive in the longer term.

By the vernacular of the day, the former type can be seen as a “blue pill”.

My beloved mother handed out blue pills to me…but she truly believed the lies, that the doctors in our lives were truly trying to make our health better, that my father had died of natural causes, and that nobody really thought that much about me to try to rehearse and stage things in front of me for sinister purposes. I was happy to take these blue pills, along with the lithium and other (needless) psychotropic drugs provided to me by the big pharma, Club of Rome-appointed psychiatrists appointed to oversee and monitor me throughout my life .

“The wisdom of a fool won’t set you free.” – New Order, “Bizarre Love Triangle”
“And to the one you thought was on your side….she can’t understand, she truly believes the lie.” – Tori Amos, “Space Dog”

My mother was no fool; she was actually very intelligent. However, her tragic flaw lay in her generosity of spirit, her abundance of love, and the incorrect assumption that the ones she loved were incapable of acting in a sinister way towards her.

My father was more of a tough love type of person. If he was frustrated by your behavior or thought that you were obtuse to something you ought to be aware of, he would not mince words and often say unflattering things to you – with the goal being, not to spare your feelings, but to save your life, to improve yourself, or whatever the case may be. To someone unused to this style of love, it can come across as verbally abusive. There’s probably a happy medium.

I miss both of them for these types of love, because they were definitely genuine.

Desperate Grifters Circling the Drain

Brad Oliver

Today’s email exchange from George will follow.

Officer Mike was not even mentioned. I guess since I am refusing to meet him in a civil court setting, the offer of help with housing will not go forward. Oh well. But George had other news!

Clearly, the duque above (name Brad Oliver) reads this blog and saw yesterday’s post so, even after I terminated our exchanges on social media, he is trying to track me down to get me to sign some bullshit, unlawful, phony Crown Corporation Maritime Dead Letter Office documents:

***********************************

Hello Mary,

I just received a strange phone call about you and want to pass along the information. A gentleman from Idaho , named Brad Oliver, called church asking for me specifically, to try and reach out to you. Apparently you and he speak on Twitter and/or a blog. He asked some basic questions that I declined to answer. I respect your privacy. He was aware that you have some money owed to you and his business deals with that recovery. His number is XXX-XXX-XXXX. I hope life is going well for you. He asked another strange question. He asked if you had access to a notary. If you do need one, I can make arrangements for you to use the secretary at church, if you wish.

Please be safe,

George Berlenge

************************************

Thanks George. 

That guy is a hustler. Thank you for not giving him any information. I’m actually the sole heiress to my family fortune, which is quite large. 

My extended relatives (who were complicit in murdering my parents, uncle, and others), whom I publicly distanced myself from via social media (they had actually planned to murder me, which would then have left them as “next of kin” – enabling them to collect on my inheritance.) My blog and social media posts were born of a need to assert the truth of the situation, disavow my relatives and their associates for what they had done, and defend myself from their many attempts to attack my credibility. Contention over these revelations caused quite a stir, since many corrupt people and entities, previously unbeknownst to me, had actually been working with them to try to get in on the deal. Apparently lots of money changed hands with corrupt individuals, and they were promised a cut of my inheritance. They were very disappointed when I realized the truth and eventually this caused me to get thrown out of my own property.  I exchanged several messages with this man before I realized that he’s just another grifter, circling the drain, trying to affiliate himself with me. 

Love of money – the root of all evil! 

Thanks, you too. God bless you & hope to see you Saturday! 

Please give my regards to Pastor Larry too. 

Best, 
Maria (Mary)

The Gina Grasso Blair Witch Project

Revelation of Method: Luciferian cabalists must reveal their plans in advance.

I’m not sure exactly when or how my mother met Gina Grasso Blair, our housekeeper of over twenty years. I think I had asked my mother once and she may have told me that she had met her through Eugene. If that is true, it figures.

Gina had become a trusted family friend. Since she had won over my mother, I treated her like a sister.

Over the years, my parents had paid her and her (then) husband Kevin to help me move apartments, painting, redecorating, and such. They gave them and their son gifts for holidays and birthdays.

Yes, Gina was front and center in the planning and execution of my mother. Love of money will make people do anything, apparently. Now I realize she was likely in some kind of Satanic cult. For lack of a better term, she was likely a Satanic witch, una bruja…the whole time.

I first met her on one of my returns home from college. I was probably twenty years old. I remember thinking that she looked like a guidette. Other than that, she seemed nice enough.

When they were staging my mother’s murder in January of 2018, Eugene wanted me to allow Candice and Jacqueline into my mother’s hospital room. (Everyone was telling me that my mother was so sick, dying – I had to prepare myself, her death was inevitable.) I was staunchly against this. Through the years, my mother often asked me not to have them or her sister present at either her death or at her wake (at least I was able to uphold the former request). Though my mother had had no idea of the extent of their treachery, she remembered how horribly they’d behaved at her father’s wake, shallowly criticizing our Poppa’s tie/suit color, and making other insensitive, inappropriate remarks.

Well, who did I want with me, he’d asked me. Anyone else? Gina, I’d said. He seemed satisfied by this choice.

Gina came by with her brother and they acted appropriately solemn and supportive of me.

Later, at my mother’s wake, Gina handed me a polished rock with “Friend” etched into it. She asked me if she could place it in her coffin. I stupidly (ignorantly) agreed.

A year later, when I realized the role that she had played, I Facebook messenged her and told her that I realized what she had done, and one day would place a rock in her coffin. Then, the DARPA/CIA Facebook monitors made her unavailable to me. They did the same with other complicit participants (namely Christina Menos, for one) lest they further implicate themselves in our electronic communications.

Dr. Michael Mannino of Roslyn, NY: This Motherfucker Killed My Dad on Purpose

Dr. Michael M. Mannino, Saint Francis Heart Hospital

This guy is a wolf in sheep’s clothing, like so many Rockerfellerian doctors.

You might, like my parents and I, read his abstract in US News and World Report, and think that he is an asset to humanity, a Catholic medical practitioner, and someone to respect:
https://health.usnews.com/doctors/michael-mannino-138363#hospitals

You would be wrong.

I suspect that this man is a member of the Knights of Columbus, which was instrumental in effectuating the genocide of my parents and Uncle Jack (and wanted to kill me too). It all connects back to the Jesuits and Club of Rome….the Vatican. Anyway.

This guy convinced my parents that my fantastic, intelligent, kind, and gifted father had a genetic heart malfunction called Congestive Heart Failure. This was in the late 1980s.

He preemptively installed a “defibrillator” into my father’s chest by his heart chambers, for the purpose (he’d lied) of “shocking” his heart back into function if, because of his genetic condition, it was too weak and stopped beating. The whole thing was a fucking lie.

On October 14, 2010, after a couple of preemptive test shocks that both frightened and hurt my father, shocking him out of my parents’ marital bed in the home that they’d shared in Babylon, NY, he was killed by one of the shocks.

This was by design. The Knights of Columbus had waited until my father had been retired for some time, his assets and life insurance policies were robust, and who knows why else (I’m sure someone does, hopefully I will learn soon). The women they were married to and had as daughters posed as friends of my mother, and operated out of Queens and Long Island, and formed a fake religious group out of a church in Douglaston called the Third Order Carmelites.

I recall the time leading up to my father’s murder quite vividly. I hope that my next series of posts will largely deal with these memories, the complicit individuals, and what they had both my mother and myself believing and doing during this time.

My Dad & I, around 1995. I think this was his birthday or Father’s Day.

The Club of Rome and Their One-Child Policy (for My Family, That Is)

My first birthday party with my parents, Pat and Bernadette, Charlton Street, NYC.

Above is a photo of me with my fantastic parents taken at our very first residence on Charlton Street in New York City. I was their first (and only) child, although back in 1976, they’d hoped that I would be the first of many.

Unfortunately, unbeknownst to them, my mother’s OBGYN “doctor”, Ernesto Menaldino: https://www.medicarelist.com/doctor/dr-ernest-menaldino-flushing-ny/ delivered me early. What we knew then was that her labor was induced early, very difficult, painful, and took over 40 hours.

What I now know is that “doctor” Ernesto Menaldino was commissioned by the Club of Rome and the Jesuits (not limited to but including my extended relatives) to covertly sterilize my mother Bernadette so that she would not be able to have other children after my birth. Additionally, during her pregnancy, he’d tried to scare her into aborting me by lying to her and telling her that the sonogram showed her baby (me) developing without a head. A devout Catholic, she prayed to the Blessed Mother that I would be born healthy, and if so, would name her baby after her (if it was a girl, that is). That’s how I came to be named Maria.

My extended relatives and many of their associates were complicit in this genocidal crime.

COMPLICIT: Victor Castelli, Marbel Ruiz Biedermann, Elaine Shine (nee Biedermann)

COMPLICIT: Eugene Biedermann, Marbel Ruiz Biedermann, Elaine Shine (nee Biedermann)

COMPLICIT: Benjamin Daguanno, Catherine Daguanno, Victor Castelli, Paul Castelli, Maureen Wilson, Frank Daguanno, James Castelli (nee Daguanno)

COMPLICIT: Donnamarie Oricoli and some, if not all, of her children (one of whom was my dad’s godson)

COMPLICIT: “Father” Ralph DiOrio of “Marian Healing Ministry”

COMPLICIT: Jacqueline Ruiz Biedermann, Candice Nagle (nee Biedermann)

COMPLICIT: Marguerite Bitteti, Marcia Koch

COMPLICIT: The Hospital of the University of Pennsylvania

Later in life, she was diagnosed with endometriosis. Now we know that the cabal 1) creates the problem (check), 2) offers a “solution” for the problem (check), and 3) charges to provide for the fake solution (check), and this was the playbook used on my parents.

My mother made many trips to “fertility specialists” at the Hospital of the University of Pennsylvania to try to conceive another child. It was a family dream in those early years that I would one day have a brother or sister. Unbeknownst to her, after many, many operations, (during which I was sent to stay with my complicit Aunt Elaine at her home in HoHoKus, New Jersey, a whole other level of evil that I’m not even going to discuss right now) they worsened her condition, albeit after charging my parents lots of money, of course.

My mother fell in love with the city of Philadelphia during this time and also imagined that I would one day attend the University of Philadelphia (U Penn) for my college years. She even bought the both of us pricey Champion PENN sweatshirts. (Despite it being my first choice years later, I didn’t get accepted, well….I guess it’s clear why not, right?)

My Confirmation Day

I’ve been posting this photo from 1987 on my social media a lot lately because I think it contextualizes everyone involved in my past and present. I feel like it cuts across a few different generations, and kind of exposes the fault lines beneath the tectonic plates of familial associations. If you know, you know. People that were complicit know, and people that weren’t surely do now, too.

In the words of Martin Luther King, Jr, what we will remember most is not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.

L-R: My dad (murdered in 2010 by defibrilator installed by Robert Mannino of Saint Francis Hospital in Long Island, NY) Andrea Gold (then girlfriend of my Nazi uncle, Eugene Biedermann), Candice Nagle (Eugene’s daughter and my 1st maternal cousin), John R. Biedermann, my uncle (murdered in 2013 by radioactive waste fed to him at Glengariff Facility in Long Island, NY), John Biedermann, my maternal grandfather, me, my mother (organ harvested, then poisoned and murdered in 2018 by Northwell Health and Long Island Jewish hospitals), Elaine Shine (my maternal aunt), Bill Shine (the late husband of Elaine), Jacqueline Ruiz Biedermann, (Eugene’s daughter & my 2nd maternal cousin.) Photographer: Eugene Biedermann, my maternal uncle.

After Eugene Murdered my Mother

Yeah so, you know about that…after Eugene killed my mother, he babysat me with Sally and Elaine – and they were all like happy and shit! And I was like, ‘My mother fucking died, why is everybody so happy?!’ Anyway, so I was angry and Eugene was mind-fucking me as usual, and he said, “You be nice to her…you be nice to Elaine…” He had my mind all twisted. At any rate, she was thrilled, they were like having a party. They were thrilled; this was the day they were looking forward to: my mother’s death. So anyway, they don’t get shit, no matter what happens, and Joyce – you too. You’re not getting shit. You’ll get Bill’s shit, okay?

So, at any rate, they were all excited. They were complaining about the cold, it was cold. Then Eugene watched “A Beautiful Mind” with me , told me about his career as a police officer – some of the highlights – and then played “The Sound of Silence” on piano as I sang along. It wasn’t a good rendition; he played it at the wrong tempo.

He was driving my mom’s Lexus around, with all her belongings from the hospital in the bags in the back.

She should have survived that hospitalization. He made sure she went into the hospital so that they would kill her.

Eugene, you’re a Nazi, and you killed your whole family (almost).

Everybody’s going to know.

At any rate

It occurs to me now that Eugene and Candice have whacked my family for our money.

I’ll never forget Eugene sending Candice to watch over my mother as they were poisoning her so that she could report back to him on how things were going.

I’ll never forget the medical team crushing her sternum and making her worse as they ushered me away so I couldn’t see.

I remember my mother’s blue eyes looking outward, aware with the full knowledge of what was happening. They had her transferred to another hospital. All the doctors were bullshitting me. There was a contract on her life. Nothing I could do would help.

I was completely fooled. They could have saved her, but he chose to have her organs harvested, blood drawn, and killed.

He planned the whole thing.

I want him off of her estate.

Mom’s Side of the Family

The douchebag on the top right killed everyone except for me and stole our properties and assets.

He’s a Nazi. He and the woman on the top left are Nazis and their number one accomplice is my cousin in the front center row.

Through the years, he’s tried to micromanage my relationships with different boyfriends and has always tried to keep me high on various drugs, so that I would remain oblivious to his crimes.

After he poisoned my mother, he sent me to a drug rehab that I didn’t need, even though I was clean. I watched up close and personal as he, his girlfriends, and daughters drained our assets and labeled me bipolar, sending me to various psychiatric institutions through the years.

He’s wired all my properties and taken advantage of our generosity.

He sold the body parts of his family and thinks he’s going to manage my mom’s estate. Not a chance, bitch.

He was behind several violent crimes against my family through the years. He was behind various illnesses and accidents that came upon us. For him, it was all about the Benjamins.

Like him, his Nazi daughter doesn’t give a crap about anything but money either.

So, God Bless and keep me.

Glasses

It’s like when

You can’t find your glasses

And you look for them

Everywhere –

Far and wide –

But they’ve been on your face

The whole entire time!