I got out of the car and walked over to the police officer who was speaking with my neighbor who I had asked to hide the body. The neighbor described watching me throw a giant rock through the car window, climb in through the broken window, then throw the same rock through the window on the other side.
The police officer asked if the car with broken windows belonged to me and asked why they had been broken. I told the officer that I had been locked out of the car and could not find a locksmith. The officer frowned, then instructed me to put my hands behind my back so she could cuff me.
Handcuffed in front of my house with broken glass from my car all over the place, I realized I was in a whole new phase of contesting admission. This new phase would take all my strength, but new mental powers seemed to be emerging by the minute. I could now hear other people’s thoughts and broadcast to others. I would use this power to find the root of meta-power in Liberty. To succeed, I would need to work closely with my friends in the witness protection program. I began by signaling my distress and the need for immediate help.
With the handcuffs on, I paced in small circles in front of the police officers, chanting, “Register, Cosign Arrest.” I had spent the previous semester listening to one particular doctoral student overuse the term cosign. It was clear that this second arrest was part of the process of contesting admission to prevent me from registering for further study. Now I would need the help of the federal government to keep my special project going.The chant was also intended to send a beacon to my doctoral guard. So I waited and hoped for the troops to arrive on the scene.
But no doctoral students came to my rescue, nor did any federal officers. The police watched silently as I chanted until more police arrived and I was helped into the police vehicle.
I couldn’t understand why no federal officers had come to offer help. After all, I had spent the last six months in their program, doing everything possible to further their agenda and make visible the root of power in Liberty: meta-power.
I was particularly distressed because I had just revealed to the United States government that Dr. H was a secret Belgium operative. But she just stood there with her broom, speaking quietly with the police officers. Because her device was still in her secret laptop that I had hidden, I couldn’t hear her thoughts.I did my best to read her lips. I couldn’t understand anything, though. Mostly I couldn’t understand how the witness protection program had screwed up this operation or what had gone wrong in the process of contesting admission.
The first officer gently assisted me in her vehicle and drove away from the CIA house, where Dr. H was casually sweeping up the broken glass from my vehicle.
Ultimately, despite having all three items on the list I created for the earlier seminar—Ensure, education, and language—I was still unable to survive without intervention.
And in the end, the very language that I used to survive had turned on me. It became so inaccessible and ineffective that I eventually needed help. As I sat in the back of the police car, I looked at the monitor, which appeared to me as “suspicious signs.” I knew then, as I know today, to be suspicious of something that appears without an explanation or a plausible reason.