Categories
Religion & Politics

Make Violence Against Sex Workers a Hate Crime

By Myra St. Clair Baldwin

We need legislation at the local, state, and national level that would make violence against sex workers and perceived sex workers a hate crime.

I believe my 4th Amendment Constitutional Rights were violated and that I was subject to psychological torture (a form of assault) due not only to some drug use, but due to suspected prostitution as well. I believe what happened to me was a hate crime, and the murder of the Asian female sex workers was not only a hate crime against Asians and women, but a hate crime against sex workers as well. I am working on a report which I will be releasing soon and am hoping to be interviewed by the media so that I can talk about my own experience and urge action, as well as gain support from agencies that are working for the rights of sex workers.

I urge you to please contact your representatives at the city, state, and national level, urging them to work on legislation in this matter.

Categories
The Privacy Invasion Collection

Street Justice Vs. Legal Justice

My friend and former business partner, Sean McKelvey, thinks if I pursue legal justice against my alleged spies and get them put in prison, that I’m no better then them. The way I see it though, is that they were threatening to send ME off to prison, so I want to turn the tables around on them and threaten to send THEIR sorry asses off to prison and use the law their care so fucking much about against THEM! Besides, if I pursued street justice, I would be the one who would end up in prison, and society wouldn’t learn an important lesson, being that it’s NEVER okay to violate someone’s constitutional privacy rights AND it’s NEVER okay to terrorize and psychologically torture someone. I don’t care WHAT you suspect they’re doing in the privacy of their own home. I don’t care WHAT you heard about them. I don’t care what they actually ARE doing in the privacy of their own home. We ALL have fucking rights, damn it. And they were so hell-bent on trying to prove that I was malingering, telling me what great SPEAKING and THINKING skills I had. Damn it, I was great at speaking because I was so goddamn passionate about my fucking RIGHTS. I was ANGRY! I was on FIRE! Also, I wasn’t on stage in front of a live audience, so I didn’t have stage fright, and I had grown accustomed to their presence. When I was lecturing them, I was doing it from the HEART! That’s why my “speeches” I gave them were so goddamn powerful! I’m not simply in this to teach THEM a powerful lesson, I’m in this to teach SOCIETY a fucking lesson! That’s why this is so important to me. This is everything to me. This is URGENT! I’ll put my “speaking” skills and “thinking” skills to work to prove that THEY are indeed the REAL criminals!

For the record, Sean thought it would be justice enough to write and publish a book about their abusive behavior. But I disagree. It isn’t enough for their crimes against me. And I’m not one to pursue street justice anyway. That was never an option for me. By the way, Sean said there’s no WAY I’m schizophrenic. He believes I was spied on. And they had their reasons.

Categories
Religion & Politics The Privacy Invasion Collection

Remember, Psychological Torture is Against International Law!!!

By Myra Sue St. Clair Baldwin

When I learned about triggers in a Frontier Behavioral Health group, I thought the point of us learning about triggers is so that we could AVOID triggers, but apparently, it’s so we can be better equipped to handle our triggers. I want to go into public speaking but am imagining bad-case scenarios and of course the worst-case scenario imaginable. There is not much I can do to prepare for the worst case, which would involve receiving negative publicity and being tortured and burned to death by some crazy white supremacist, except perhaps to prepare to approach it through meditation and guided imagery. I once read about someone who was able to undergo surgery without anesthesia or pain medication because he was THAT effective at meditation. That’s some MAD skillz! I know in anxiety group they warn against “catastrophizing”, but I have good reason to believe that I could be further targeted and become a victim of a hate crime a second time around. I don’t want to back down, though. I SHOULDN’T back down. Others out there that have come before me have braved some insanely serious potential threats but did what they believed was the RIGHT thing to do for the betterment of society, despite the risks. Some have died for what they believed in but didn’t let death threats get the best of them and refused to back down. They died, but they died for a CAUSE. I survived through psychological torture, but physical torture is another beast, and hopefully I won’t have to come face to face with it. Torture should NEVER happen, psychological OR physical. What happened at Abu Ghraib was UNTHINKABLE, regardless of whether any of the suspects were or weren’t terrorists. It was sick and morally repulsive. My alleged spies didn’t use the same exact psychological torture techniques, but it was torture, nonetheless. Torture is against international law. Does that include psychological torture? And what if the torture is done by outlaws and not by the government, as I believe was the case with me? Is it still against international law THEN? Remember, it was in Spokane, WA where there existed the psychologists who were behind the psychological torture interrogation practices experimented with at Abu Ghraib. THEY invented those techniques. Spokane is the city I call home, and it is the very same city I believe I was spied on by a vigilante “justice mob” consisting of primarily neighbors and family who thought up some “lovely” torture techniques of their own to try out on me.

Categories
Consumer Behavior The Privacy Invasion Collection

Judging the Judges

Trigger warning: rated R for foul language.

I tend to think of myself as nonjudgmental. Ya know, accepting and respectful of all human beings. But upon reflection, I’m realizing we’re ALL disapproving of others. I tend to be hypercritical of those I see as cruel towards some people. The snobs in society. Judge Judy drives me crazy the way she rudely nitpicks at certain individuals.

So, I try to be accepting of all people. We’re all different. I had a friend who drove me nuts, she was so judgmental. But she couldn’t, she wouldn’t let go of me as a friend, and I didn’t want to tell her straight up that she was goddam ignorant; I didn’t know how she’d take it. But she had something to say about everyone, including the homeless people outside her apartment building. That, despite the fact that I first met her when we were staying at the shelter. But she considers that different than living on the streets. I finally let her go…

You know, most people are alright. Well actually, peasants on the street can be just as judgmental as anyone. The gossip about others never ends, no matter what circle of humans you find yourself in.

There is a lady that I sometimes see at the bus plaza and on the bus though that I’m curious about, and have a hard time not checking out her growing outfit, as she continues to add more and more layers of frills to it, made from cut up brightly colored fabrics. I saw her recently on a hot summer day, and my how her floral garden had grown! She must attract a lot of bees. I mean, she’s interesting, that’s for sure – a walking piece of art. But I wonder, how often does she disassemble and reassemble her getup? Or does she sleep in it? She doesn’t smell bad, not that I’ve noticed, so surely, she’s taking showers. How long does it take to take off all those layers of frills and how long does it take to put them back on? Or do the ruffles stay on her jeans and shirt that she can just pull them off in a cinch? So yeah, I try not to pass judgment on her. But she’s certainly an exhibitionist and I don’t know how she can stand the summer heat in all those layers. I saw her during the record heat wave that just hit the Pacific Northwest and she was still covered in layer upon layer of frills. I’m not so curious about her, however, that I’m gonna sneak into her home and set up spy cameras to find out what her daily habits are like. That is something I’D never do.

Her outfit actually, now that I think of it, reminds me of my crazy junk-based 3D art projects that started budding and blossoming in my apartment – spreading out across my living room like wild strawberries run amuck – during the few short months when I was doing meth, before my siblings and neighbors got super curious about me, so inquisitive about me that I believe they DID put spy cameras in my home. I also remember when I was playing dress up to entertain, cheer up, and energize myself, as well as sometimes dressing up for my boyfriend. I had cut up fabrics and concocted some wild, sexy ensembles. Normally though I didn’t go out dressed super crazy. But come to think of it, one time I did. This was during my post drug-days (which was a short-lived time for me), when I thought I was being spied on, and I was determined to let it leak to the public that my 4th amendment constitutional privacy rights were being violated. I wore some kind of crazy getup. I wish I could remember what it looked like. All I can recollect is I had a collage duct taped to my outfit made from some issues of The Finger, which was an underground zine some friends and I put together. Well, I only worked on the Finger for three issues, actually. I believe I was also wearing a denim jacket with “Report Privacy Invasion! Call Crime Check!” along with Crime Check’s local phone number, even though I wasn’t really the biggest fan of “law & order.” Anyway, I went out clad like a spectacle, hoping to draw interest to my cause (my resistance to privacy invasion). I thought if I could attract attention, perhaps someone would investigate and discover that I was being spied on. I also had produced signs on blank paper using colorful sharpies and doodling that I taped to my apartment window facing a distant parking lot, in the hopes that someone would see the signs and take out binoculars to read them and view my battle for privacy rights. The regional manager told me to take the signs down as I was “defacing” the building, and I protested, insisting that I was being spied on and it was my cry for help.

Another time I crafted a huge sign and dressed up in an interesting – albeit not as spectacular as the getup I wore to my outing – outfit and started chanting “Psychological torture is against international law!” outside. A lady passing by asked me what it was all about, and I told her some people were spying on me and putting me through psychological torture. She responded with something like “Well, good luck!”

I do recall dressing slightly odd when I was in high school, and later when I was attending E.W.U. I was a radical Spokane cheerleader, against war, and had been inspired to “wear my art” by spoken-word artist Alix Olsen. But my outfits were NOTHING compared to this lady with piles upon piles of colorful frills decorating her underclothes, which remain on her regardless of the weather. I mean, someone I saw at a Mead High School reunion did comment that she liked the clothes I wore in high school, which just meant she thought my garments were “interesting”, but this was a high school with a bunch of rich preppy snobs and it didn’t take much imagination to be “different” at that school.

There was a time when my friend Orion and I ventured out, decked out in costume to distribute copies of the first ever issue of The Finger (with a middle finger printed on the front page pointed at an image of The Spokesman Review) in FRONT of The very same Spokesman Review. It was my idea to dress up initially, and I wore some kind of outfit with the bottom half of my bridesmaid dress from a friend’s wedding. It was a two-piece bridesmaid dress with a full long skirt; pastel lilac colored with metallic beads attached. I can’t remember the rest of the outfit, but I definitely remember what Orion put together. I have no idea how he did this, but somehow, he was a two-sided man. On one side he was wearing a white wife-beater ribbed tank top with red and white polka dot boxers, and on the other side he was dressed up like a 1930s businessman. He’s a true artist and did a fantastic job putting together that ensemble!

There was another time during the alleged spy operation, when I was hoping to attract FBI attention in hopes that they’d investigate my outlaw vigilante spies. I painted “DRUGS” with acrylic paint in loud colors and large print (maybe red and black? Can’t remember) on a canvas bag. I was walking near the federal building downtown. I don’t know why I thought they might be interested in helping a radical leftist out who had also been a suspected and actual drug user. I mean, they really don’t care at all about us. The feds and police let somethings slide, while inventing reasons to put more people of color, radicals, and drug users behind bars. I’m white but I had been a radical who had probably drawn at least a little bit of FBI attention in the past (well one friend though I probably had an FBI file based on what all I posted on Facebook). I was quickly becoming a temporary non-leftist however as instead of wanting a world without prison, I wanted to send a bunch of people to prison who I thought spied on me. But I reasoned we could let most everyone else outta jail!

So I guess I’ve been known to draw attention myself, although nowadays I go out dressed like a total “normal” person. You wouldn’t guess I ever had a wild streak from my current attire. Well maybe on occasion I sport a neat black & white bandana, but that’s about it. And I’m glad my junk-based art collection and scrap collection aren’t expanding exponentially and consuming my home. It’s good I’m writing instead. Although I must say, my new collection of hand-written journals IS increasing. They don’t take up as much space as my gigantic art projects, my years of accumulated paperwork, and my enormous book collection. But they do take up space. I might get around to scanning them someday to my PC, but then they’ll hog up digital space, and I’d need a roomier external drive, or an extra one. Eventually the external drives would pile up and invade my living room space!

Anyway, so yeah, I’m against judging and yet I judge people who judge, as well as notice some oddballs of society, but you know, some people really do deserve to be judged. Like white supremacists who murder black people. And x-husbands who forcibly budge their way into their ex-wives’ homes to look through the cupboards. Hell yeah, I’m gonna judge them! I’m gonna judge the fucking daylights out of them!

Speaking about people being judgmental; my sister Karrie recently called me a “nut bag” for accusing my siblings of having once spied on me. That ignorant fucking piece of shit bitch! It is NEVER okay to call someone a “nut bag”!

Categories
The Privacy Invasion Collection

When I was homeless…

By Myra Sue St. Clair Baldwin

I did a lot of journaling when I was homeless. I will need to go back and read my notes when I am ready to write more extensively about being homeless. In a way, I was more privileged than many of the homeless people at the shelter in that I could go back and forth between my parents’ place in the country and the urban shelter located in downtown Washington. I had been through a lot of trauma though due to the spy operation I had been through. Fortunately I had a bus pass and could easily access the mental health system, which included the Evergreen Club where I could do light volunteer work in a comfortable environment and got to participate in groups at Frontier Behavioral Health which included art group. I wasn’t feeling particularly artistically inclined though, as I lost a lot of my creative energy when I went off of uppers. And I went off of the uppers due to the privacy invasion. So I guess that’s the “silver lining” of getting spied on, since my brain’s not going to become eroded by the toxic chemicals in meth, but I’m still angry about the psychological torture I experienced and plan to bring my former spies – including family, family of my exhusband, and former neighbors – to justice.

Categories
The Privacy Invasion Collection

Commies Aren’t Scary!

By Myra Sue St. Clair Baldwin

Ya know, during the privacy invasion or “schizophrenic episode” I endured, one of the “voices” or “spies” I heard kept calling me a “Commie”. And you know, he was afraid of Communists. So instead of trying to explain what a Communist REALLY is (as opposed to some mean scary dictator), I tried to pass myself off as a “moderate Green Party” person. Which is funny, because I used to think that the Green Party was on the radical left. Nope! And the way our president makes it sound, Democrats are fucking “radical leftists” which is a joke. They’re NOT radical at all. Also the way Trump talks about “radical leftists” is like it’s some bad thing to be. Which couldn’t be FURTHER from the truth! Being a “radical leftist” is a fucking compliment! But you know, I was trying to get my fucking “spies” or the “voices” to leave me the fuck alone, and telling them to “leave me the fuck alone” really just infuriated them and got them going”! So I caved. Sorry, I really tried to put up a big fight at first but was too weak to put up with all the psychological torture they put me through.