BIG BROTHER COMES TO WOODSTOCK

November, 2001

Woodstock has always been a special place to me. Less than a hundred miles north of New York City, nestled in the foothills of the Catskill mountains, it had for the past thirty years served as a haven I could periodically escape to.

I had long had a premonition I would end up living here, and since 1996, Woodstock has been my home. I didn't have friends or family here. I came mostly because I just wanted to be left alone...Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness...which to me, first and foremost, means being as free as possible from the constant interference, intrusions and transgressions of Big Brother.

True, I couldn't stop Big Brother from tapping my phones. I couldn't prevent Big Brother from tampering with my mail; putting screws in my tires; hacking into my computers or subjecting me to satellite surveillance.

But the rural back road I live on, at the base of a mountain, is not ideally suited for the traffic of surveillance vans. Another plus: No SWAT teams. Those goons in their flak jackets would stand out here like a sore thumb. They don't have SWAT teams in Woodstock...at least not yet.

And harassment by military fighter jets at rooftop level? Unheard of. They couldn't cruise low enough above the tree line before crashing into the mountain directly behind my house.

Another nice thing about Woodstock, I thought, is the people who live here. Mostly artists, musicians, aging hippies still stuck in the time-warp of the sixties, and iconoclasts of every stripe, they seemed to have a healthy respect for individualism and peaceful coexistence.

You don't bother them, they won't bother you. Woodstock seemed to me like the Land that Time Forgot.

Remember the peace sign? Up until a few weeks ago, it was still the salute of choice in Woodstock. Up until a few weeks ago, Big Brother and his minions were nowhere to be seen.

But things have changed in Woodstock. Not that I didn't see it coming.....

Last year they moved the post office to a new site following a years-long battle between the powers-that-be and environmentalists in the community. The powers-that-be won out. The new post office now stands on former wetlands, once a refuge for birds and wildlife.

Oh, and while they were at it, building the new and improved post office, complete with convenient parking, they installed a few surveillance cameras. Just a friendly reminder that Big Brother is watching you.

Cashing a postal money order used to be simple. The postal workers recognized you, greeted you with a smile and handed over the cash. Now they have a high-tech scanner and you have to show ID.

Being something of a recluse, I don't get out much. But then, since Big Brother has destroyed 6 of my cars since 1994, by acts of vandalism, high-tech exotic weapons and arranged "accidents", it's small wonder.

On the rare occasions when I did manage to get out and about, the people I met offered little opportunity for meaningful interaction. Despite the live-and let-live philosophy of most Woodstock residents, I still felt that I was viewed by the natives as a strange bird.

And believe me, it's not easy to be considered "strange" in Woodstock. Tourists routinely drive by just to gawk at the motley crew of weird characters hanging out on the Village Green in the center of town.

Though I did try to talk to people about my own experiences and research, I rarely came across anyone who had ever heard about Big Brother's covert war on the American public...even though it's been going on for at least 50 years.

Most often their eyes would glaze over at the mention of electronic harassment, CIA mind control programs or the cabal of globalist fascists who control our government --the enemy within-- intent upon destroying our national sovereignty and expunging our constitution.

People would tell me I was "too negative...that I was an "alarmist", or the old standby..."paranoid".

But despite their overall tolerance and peaceful nature, sadly, the folks in Woodstock are more typical than not in their ignorance and complacency.

Think about it. Really, how many people have you ever met ANYWHERE who even have a clue about what's going on in their own country? Hello?...hello?

And then came Nine-One-One.

I hate to say I told you so. This, to the people who scoffed in disbelief at my tales of government harassment and political persecution.

Illegal domestic covert operations of CIA. Extortion of their hard-earned money by gun-toting IRS thugs. Erosion of their civil liberties by the encroaching police state. Gun-control, gun-grabbing and the Million Mom March.

Mandatory SS# required to get a driver's license. Arrogant census-takers and their idle threats of legal action against private citizens like myself who refuse to tolerate invasions of privacy.

Biowarfare "tests" on innocent civilians. Microwave towers spewing out a miasma of electromagnetic pollution. HAARP. Echelon. Carnivore. Mass mind control. Brainwashing of the general public by the Corporate-Fascist-Controlled-and-Owned-Media.

The shameless drugging of American children with Ritalin and let's not forget other mind-control psychotropics designed to keep the adult populace in line...and on...and on...and on....

But let's go back in time...to the summer of 2000 and the political climate prevailing in the little town of Woodstock.

In the months prior to the "election" of Dubya Bush, a constant stream of letters to the editor in the Woodstock Time angrily denounced Dubya as a warmonger. A polluter of Planet Earth. A dinosaur whose "unenlightened" politics were a throwback from the days of the Cold War. Certainly not just the lesser of any number of possible evils.

But anyway, the good folks of Woodstock sure enough had no use for Dubya Bush. No, indeed. And they weren't happy when he "won" the "election."

And then came Nine-One-One.

You can't drive through Woodstock now without the flag-wavers accosting you at every turn. Doing an informal survey, I counted the cars sporting American flags. Probably one-third of all vehicles. I don't have to ask myself what that flag stands for, at least in the minds of those proudly displaying it.

Is it a symbol of FREEDOM?

The Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave?

Are the 'patriots' waving those flags telling the world that it's time to stand up and be counted among those who will no longer tolerate the political corruption and tyranny --the conspiracy of the ENEMY WITHIN-- that is destroying our country and sucking the life out of our people?

Are the flag wavers telling us that they love their freedom so much that THEY would be willing to lay THEIR lives down, if need be, defending that freedom?

No, no....these folks are waving the flag NOT in support of freedom --and make no mistake, FREEDOM means the God-given INDIVIDUAL liberties SUPPOSEDLY protected by the U.S. Constitution-- but because Big Brother Bush and his cronies in the Olympic Cartel manipulated them into a panic using Psy Ops...the oldest trick in the book.

How quickly they forget.....

Suddenly, miraculously, Big Brother Bush is seen NOT as the "warmonger" of the pre-"election" days. No, now he is a Holy Crusader on a Mission from God: To Wipe Out Evil from the face of the earth.

Suddenly, miraculously, these same newly-converted 'patriotic' Americans --not just in Woodstock, but across the nation-- are willing and even EAGER to hand over their OWN constitutionally guaranteed liberties in a show of patriotic solidarity, which they foolishly believe will protect them from "foreign terrorists."

Last Saturday I went to the local mall in Kingston, a nearby city and the former capital of New York State. Inside the window of a clothing store, I saw a black T-shirt prominently displayed. Only $19.99......

In large white capital letters, the slogan read:

FUCK TERRORISM.

And of course, Nine-One-One has also spawned a cottage industry of mass-produced goods for sale: A frenzy of cashing in on the latest horrific tragedy by promoting other catchy slogans like: Nuke Afghanistan...Osama bin Laden: Wanted Dead or Alive....America: United We Stand....

But "united" in support of WHAT?

In support of wiping out MORE innocent civilians by nuking Afghanistan into the stone age?

In support of Big Brother Bush, our fearless commander in chief, and the Storm Troopers of his Homeland Security Force?

In support of jack-booted thugs patrolling our streets and trampling what is left of our INDIVIDUAL rights and liberties HERE AT HOME?

In support of inviting Big Brother and his mainstream media toadies to commandeer our thinking process?

In support of being herded like so many cattle into the waiting arms of Big Brother and his Global Fascist Police State?

It took them awhile. Many years of illegal domestic covert operations. Treacherous and cowardly, creeping forward in stealth mode. But Big Brother and his demonic band of terrorists have finally arrived in Woodstock.

Speaking strictly for myself, NO WAY IN HELL will I let them take me alive.

I will not be wearing a brand-new T-shirt that reads: FUCK TERRORISM.

I have my own worn-out T-shirt, worn out long before Nine-One-One.

It says: NO GUTS NO GLORY.

And the flag waving in front of my door, here in Woodstock, says:

DON'T TREAD ON ME.


Barbara Hartwell
November, 2001
Woodstock, New York