This is the information that the ACLU requested. I tried to be succinct as possible even though the information may appear cursory.The story I'm about to tell is unbelievable but unequivocally true. For a period more than twenty years I've been purposely harassed and virtually tortured by the United States Government, Christian community, and complying states for God to return to my exwife and her two children which I believe
because of my ex-wife's infidelity may not be mine and are now well over the
ages of eighteen. The commonwealth of Massachusetts' child-support enforcement
agency says that because my name appears on the birth certificate that I'm
therefore the legal guardian and legally responsible for the child-support
whether or not I'm the real father -with no exceptions! My contention is this:
"I was deceived by my ex-wife, Jeanne, and I just had learned of the possibility
that the children may not be mine (after the fact) as a result of her lubricious
infidelity through an argument with her via a serendipitous discovery on my
part. I don't want to go through the rest of my life paying for her misconduct."
Shortly after that, in 1989, the Bush administration took power and the
implementation became more austere. The state of North Carolina began harassing
my new wife, Diane, for child-support payments for the two children whom, I
contend, may not be mine. Diane began coming home from her job in tears stating that "This is not of God" but she would never tell me why because I believed that she was being threatened and she was also being denigrated and harassed by her constituents at her place of employment for God. It had gotten to the point whereas to collect it: They threatened my life. Tried to run my car from the road. I even had I believe to be an
enforcement agent to saw the bottom of my scaffold plank at work as to have it
collapse and cause me serious injury in retaliation for my noncompliance. The
end result was that I herniated two disks and cracked a vertebrate in my back. I
then was not able to work for two years. Even today I still have an arduous time
holding a job for long because of my injury. I'm always in great discomfort.
Well, they became the nexus of our divorce. This led to the turning point of the
implementation of the sanctions to now focus on my return to the Commonwealth of
Massachusetts, to my ex-wife for God, as opposed to the payments of child-support.
Shortly after my injury I obtained an attorney by the name of Johnny Morgan who at the time had a law practice in Benson, North Carolina. I explained to Mr. Morgan that I was being threatened and harassed at my place of
employment, and I was certain that the state of North Carolina was the culprit. Mr. Morgan stated that if I for any reason mentioned this to the Court or the insurance company involved that I would live to regret it, so I didn’t in fear of retaliation from the state of North Carolina. I subsequently learned that Johnny Morgan was a former state employee (a highway patrolman).
I loved Diane but my conscience wouldn't allow me to compromise my principles. I knew
what the Government and the Christians were doing was wrong, very wrong. After our separation I
wandered from state to state in hopes of finding a sanctuary where I could
collect my thoughts and correct this insane injustice. It was at this point that
I had come to the cognizance: "I could not acquiesce to this contorted
machination, and there was no turning back now."
What the Government and the Christians community were doing to me was a gross violation of people's civil rights. It's clearly a gross violation of the Bill of Rights and the Declaration of Human Rights which our
forefathers fought and died for so we could enjoy the good life that they never
had. Once the Christians got away with one violation, they'd want more, then
even more. Our Congress has proved this time and time again. Ultimately, the
only people who are going to be left with civil rights are going to be the
lawmakers because they make themselves exempt from the contorted laws we as a
people are forced to comply with. I've hypothesized that the implementation of God's law is a milestone to totalitarianism implemented by a fascist plutocracy comprised of hidebound, reclusive reactionaries who are mad,
inebriated with power, and are capable of doing anything to anybody.
At this point in time the setting was now in Washington State and I was trying to
cross the Canadian border; however, the Canadians sent me back to the United
States as they stated that I was a wanted felon and not allowed to enter Canada
in accordance with Canadian law. I couldn't understand this: "I committed no
crime!"
The next day I was arrested by the Everitt Police Department for
jaywalking and relegated to the city jail there. While in jail I was pushed into
a small cell with about six correctional officers in tow as the first officer
sprayed pepper spray in my face while I was handcuffed. Almost simultaneously
they pushed and punched me to the floor then they proceeded to kick me in the
face and ribs. About an hour later I was premonished that upon my extrication
from jail I better return to Massachusetts or otherwise I would be arrested and
beaten more severely the next time. A month later I drove back to New Mexico.
While in Albuquerque my perpetual nightmare continued with a vengeance:
I was harassed on my jobs again and threatened by complete strangers. Even the
Albuquerque Police Department fired a machine-gun just outside my motor home on
Nine-Mile-Hill. I became very upset about everything that was taking place and I
decided to call Congressman Steve Schiff's office for help. Little did I know
that that was the beginning of what was soon to be a real nightmare.
I explained to the liaison or the boss of the office as nicely as I could that my
civil rights were being grossly violated and that I was being beaten and
harassed by law enforcement agents to return to Massachusetts. After I explained
to him what was happening to me he stated, "Tell me where you're at and I'll
have the police come pick you up!" Well, I finally reached the satiation point
and I went off! I just couldn’t take anymore! I call them a few more times
vociferating my disapproval and anger for what the Government and the Christians were doing to me.
You know what? They didn't like it, because a few days later I was arrested for
telephone harassment. (Please note that all of the conversations I had with the
congressman's office had nothing to do with the congressman. I wasn't mad at the
congressman. I didn't even know the congressman at all. I became angry at the
way I was being treated by who ever was in charge of the office -the boss or
liaison; however, at the time I was being charged with telephone harassment).
This time I was relegated to B.C.D.C. in Albuquerque. While I was
immured there I was treated with all the asperity of a Nazi concentration camp.
While in segregation I had broken glass placed in my food twice -once in my
spaghetti- in an effort to cause me serious harm. I was given sour milk on a
regular basis for breakfast while the guards would laugh. The guards would
encourage the other inmates to vociferate cadaverous paroxysms of my demise in
order to terrorize me. They even went as far as to remove the P.C. lock from my
door to give the other inmates who fawned the correctional officers a way of
torturing me by trying to impale me with broom-handles through the opening left
from the removal of the lock from my door. I was even sprayed with urine on
several occasions through the same opening. All this took place on a daily
basis, all day long, for my eleven-month sojourn. The guards would even take me
on elevator rides so they could bang my head on the walls and shout threats so
there were no witnesses. I even had my tooth broken by inmates while Officer
Marty Martinez encouraged it and a woman officer watched vicariously and did
nothing to stop it. But the most horrible thing they did to me was the stabbing.
However, before I bring myself to the point of remembrance of that terrible day
I'd like to point out something very germane.
These attacks to attrit me
continued through my almost six years of incarceration. During this time I was
also being inundated with a contorted Christianity. For example: While inmates
under the guard's direction would shout death threats, and attempt to assault me
(as to the point they'd elicit an effusion from me) a chaplain would appear to
inform me that God loves me and that Jesus is the answer to all my problems.
Also, that he -referring to himself- would help me find my first wife, my true
family (the licentious, lubricious vixen and her children) so I'd have a family
to go home to and get away from all this adversity.
All the while these unscrupulous messengers of God would preach to me I'd think in the back of my
mind: "What kind of man are you? Moreover, what kind of god implements torture
and suffering to force someone to return to a lubricious vamp I now hate with
all my heart and soul for what was done to me! You're a very mentally-ill man!"
But I'd just say, "No! I just want to be left alone!" This became the nascence
of my apostasy. I’ve learned the hard way how demented
Christianity and it’s followers really are. I've now learned to abhor religion.
Back to the stabbing at B.C.D.C..
One day while I was coming back from the courthouse I was informed that I had a severe mental illness because I would not return to my first wife, Jeanne. An Albuquerque Police Officer then
premonished me that I need to try to get out of jail, no matter what the cost or
something very bad was likely to happen to me. Then shortly afterwards a guard
informed me that inmates as a rule when assaulting someone one inmate would hold
the assaulted to the floor while the other inmate would stab the assaulted.
Shortly after that an attorney purporting to represent me for my commitment
hearing to a mental hospital -of which I knew nothing about- stated to me during
a symposium- that I could in fact go free. All I'd have to do was return to my
quondam family in Massachusetts, or otherwise I'd be committed to a mental
institution. I said to her, "WHAT DID YOU SAY?" as I rose from my chair in
disbelief that she'd say such a thing. She did not reply. She just got up from
her chair and left. I was then taken back to my cell for more torture and
punishment by the inmates and guards alike.
Approximately a week has passed now since my meeting with the strange attorney. While in segregation I
proceeded with my daily routine: I'd take a shower out in the pod. I’d get a
razor from the correctional officer. Then I'd go back to my cell to shave. All
of a sudden while I was standing in front of my mirror shaving two inmates came
running into my cell. One inmate tackled me like a football player while the
other inmate stabbed me in the face and head while I was falling to my bunk. I
kept putting up my hands to protect myself; however, being caught off guard made
my trying to fight the two inmates off prove to be futile. I was stabbed all
over my head and face and bleeding everywhere at this point. These were the same
two inmates who for weeks shouted death threats and attempted to impale me with
broom-handles through the hole in my cell door. I also kept telling the guards
about the death threats daily and nothing was done about it because I believe
that this is what the Government and the Christian community intended for me for my noncompliance. I
couldn't believe that the guards were letting them do this! (One of the guards I
kept premonishing was named John. He was an average height middle aged black
man, and he seemed very concerned about what was going on, but you could see in
his eyes that he had a terrible consternation). After they were through I had
lost so much blood I couldn't stand up in my cell. I kept slipping and falling
in my own blood, and it was everywhere. I could hardly stay awake. I remember
very little about the trip to U.N.M. Hospital except that the medic kept trying
to keep me awake.
When I came back from the hospital I was placed in the
infirmary at the jail. The first thing I said was, "Where's the mirror?" The
guard said that they removed it. I retorted, "Why did you remove it?" The guard
said, "Martin you don't need to see yourself right now!" I again retorted, "I
want to! I want a mirror! Please!" So the guard let me out of my cell and into
the bathroom used by the staff that worked there. When I looked into the mirror
I could not believe it! One eye was almost completely shut, and the other was
half open. My face was black and blue all over -even my neck and shoulders too.
I was stabbed all over my face and forehead. Even my lip was ripped completely
down, then sewn back into place. You wouldn't believe it; I looked like a victim
in a horror movie! I received approximately twenty-five stitches in my face.
I endeavored to make countless attempts to contact an attorney to assist
me with my dilemma, and every time I made an attempt to call on my recreation
time out in the pod the phone would go dead, or inmates would shout death
threats to prevent my obtaining assistance by anyone. This made carrying on a
conversation with a reputable attorney hopeless. Dennis Montoya informed me that
a lawsuit, or any recourse from jail was not feasible. Also that I had to wait
until my extrication from prison, so I didn't pursue it any further. Dennis
Montoya lied to me. Now I've learned upon my extrication that it's too late.
Shortly after my attack I went on a five-day hunger strike with no food
or water. The state of New Mexico decided to drop the charges against me after
holding me for almost 11 months and released me to federal custody. The state of
New Mexico grossly violated my rights to a speedy trial. Also there were many
pictures taken of my stabbing both by the jail and the police department, but I
wasn't allowed to obtain any of them for evidence.
While in federal
custody I was relegated to a federal holding facility in Estancia called C.C.A..
Not much had changed: I still had correctional officers such as Officer Gillette
parading inmates past my cell shouting death threats and spitting on my cell
window. The guards stole all my property such as: two watches, a radio,
dominoes, and even my shoes too as to cause added anxiety in efforts to attrit
me into accepting a contorted doctrine and get me to return to my ex-wife in
Massachusetts. They did anything they could think of to me to cause anxiety,
stress, and fear. I believe Officer Garcia was a big part of that. I was even
beaten up by the guards in front of my attorney, Jacquelyn Robins. The officer
in charge that day was Officer Rinfro. Estancia was a terrible place run by very
obdurate people. I also got speared in the leg by inmate Eric Smith and cut with
a razor blade by another inmate while the guards did nothing but encourage it.
The guards even let another inmate open my cell door in the middle of the night
to orate, "See how easy it is to kill you Martin!" When I got up to defend
myself he quickly slammed my cell door and returned to his own cell.
When I met Dennis Montoya he seemed very genial; however, at the time I
didn't feel very magnanimous or conciliatory towards government appointed
attorneys. Judge Burce Black appointed him and I knew I was stuck with him. It didn't
take me long to find out that I was correct in my conjecture. Mr. Montoya
informed me that he was going to take an insanity defense in my behalf
regardless of my unwillingness, which he said was ordered by Judge Black.
I was then sent to Springfield, Missouri, Medical Center for Federal
Prisoners for an evaluation. Doctors’ Mrad and Wolfson -again ordered by Judge
Black then found me to be noncomposmentis. They stated to me that I was
delusional and my story about the harassment was a fallacy regardless of my
ability to produce tangible evidence. They also went on to say that I would face
a 42-46 commitment hearing which is a lifetime commitment in a federal mental
hospital for the criminally insane. They also kept me going back and fourth from
the Court to Springfield for more than three years without being able to go to
trial trying to convince me that I was crazy and a danger to myself and others.
My three and one-half years of a vacillating sojourn to and from
Springfield was a horrible one: I was repeatedly told that I was delusional and
forced to take medication against my will which caused me great discomfort.
Officers' Tom Anderson and Carr even punched me in the face twice, and my food
tray was also spit in by one of Officer Anderson's confederates. Once I wasn't
fed for three days, and I informed the warden -a very corpulent, gruff, and
obdurate man- what was going on and he stated that he'd look into it and walked
away from my cell laughing. I knew at that point that nothing was going to be
done about it. One time I was held down by correctional officers and injected by
a nurse with a morbid medication while I pleaded with them not to do it. I
became very sick from the medication and my eyesight became abated. Doctors'
Mrad and Wolfson said that my eyesight would return shortly, but it never did. I
still have difficulty seeing even today; however, this was the only facility
where other inmates were treated with the same asperity as I was. I’ve witnessed
another inmate get assaulted and injected with an insalubrious medication just
as I was as he begged them not to do it. Also, one inmate that was killed as an
end result of being forced to take a dangerous medication. His name was Walker.
(Walker repeatedly complained of discomfort that the medication caused him and
didn’t want to take it. I repeatedly told the nurses and correctional officers
that Walker was very sick and I was threatened to mind my own business or I
would be relegated to the hole. I believe Walker was killed due to negligence
and/or incompetence because in this prison black people are especially treated
with disregard and are often used in cruel experiments such as Walker was).
I believe that drug reform is becoming banal in this facility to combat
dissidence. The Government via the Christian community has found a new method of reform by drugging people
into conformity. Springfield is a very terrible place and run by wicked people
with an imperious, contorted implementation of cruelty to people who are
relegated there for experiment. You'd have to see it to believe it. Although
most people were sick and did need medication some did not and were forced
against their will to undergo experimentation with an unsalutary implementation
of insalubrious drugs. Springfield, Missouri, is truly a horror movie in the
making. I've even written the B.O.P. and in response they said I was delusional,
mentally sick, and that everything I said was a fallacy in a very crude way.
During my evaluation hearing for my 42-46 commitment I was found to be
sane. Doctor Russ Carter said, after many months of confabulating with me, that
he had come to the cognizance my going back to Massachusetts to my ex-wife would
be a great mistake. He also went on to say that I was going back to Albuquerque
for my trial; however, if I ever mentioned what had happened to me and others in
Springfield I would receive a 42-46 commitment for sure. Also that they would
not accept me back to Springfield again regardless of what Judge Black had to
say.
When I returned to the federal holding facility in Estancia I met
with Dennis Montoya in a symposium pertaining to my acceptance to a
plea-agreement for a fictitious or exaggerated crime. I then said that I would
not accept it. He said that if I didn't accept it I would be sent back to
Springfield, Missouri, again for a 42-46 commitment. Remembering what Doctor
Russ Carter said that I would not be accepted back to Springfield again, I told
him to kiss-off! Boy, did that feel good! I also said, I'm getting a new lawyer
and you're not worth your weight in...! And I did. I obtained Jacquelyn Robins
again appointed by Judge Bruce Black.
I was also called in to see Doctor
Landou, the psychiatrist for the Estancia federal holding facility. He made the
exact same threats as Dennis Montoya did; however, I just ignored him. He then
tried to see me a few more times, but I wouldn't receive him.
As time
progressed so did my possible time increase for my sentence that could be
imposed for my noncompliance to return to Massachusetts. For example: My initial
charge carried a maximum sentence of one year. When I completed that year it got
raised to three years. When I completed the three years it got raised to five
years. When I almost completed the five years it got raise to ten years. Then it
got dropped back down to four years with three years supervised release. I was
released the day the sentence was imposed by Judge Black with eight months
credit to be applied to my supervised release violation I would soon obtain for
refusing to take medication for a fictitious illness. I ended up doing all my
supervised release time in prison for a crime I didn't commit. At the end of the
four and one half years I was being charged with attempting to murder a
congressman, which was a fallacy.
Upon my release the Albuquerque Police Department said that they had lost my motor home and tools they were holding for evidence -which I don't know why- and they would not return any of Jacquelyn
Robin's phone calls to return them. The harassment to return to Massachusetts
never ended; and my probation officer, David Hoffman, became privy and an
element to the contorted machination being implemented by the United States
Government, Christian community, and the state of New Mexico. I even reported my precarious situation
to Governor Gary Johnson's office -via a letter- and I was ignored; not to
mention the Albuquerque Police and their confederates, such as Blanco,
premonished me I would be murdered if I endeavored to return to Albuquerque for
my appeal and possible new trial.
My trial was a big joke. Judge Bruce
Black was the arbitrator and Jacquelyn Robins was my defense attorney. At this
point Judge Bruce Black abdicated himself for violating my Constitutional rights
to a speedy trial and my case was thrown out of court. At the same time I was
being re-indicted for the same crime and Judge Black also re-appointed him-self
as my judge again -I was right back where I left off. Judge Black also stated
that I could not tell the jury anything about what happened that led up to my
arrest. If I did I would be charged with contempt of court and face more
charges. How Judge Black could do the things he did to me is beyond my
comprehension. Also, on a number of occasions I told Judge Black, the U.S.
Marshal's office, and Jacquelyn Robins that I was being assaulted, but nothing
was done about it because I believe that was their intentions. Judge Bruce Black
is a very mentally ill man to be so obdurate to do the things that he did to me.
He is a perfect example of how corrupt our government has become. He had to
convict me because I was held in prison for about four and one-half years
without a trial among other things and that would not look good for a federal
judge to do or be involved in.
Jacquelyn Robins tried to talk me into
just pleading guilty and not going to trial. She even tried to get me to return
to my first wife in Massachusetts and said that was my only possible way out of
jail and the adversity I had to ameliorate diurnally. During my trial she tried
to get the witness to say I threatened to murder Congressman Steve Schiff, and
she didn't appear to try to defend me at all. Also, like a fool I let her talk
me into not having a jury trial. Immediately after I agreed I came to my senses
and I requested a jury trial but Jacquelyn Robins said it was too late and I
could not change my mind. Judge Black decided my…. what I knew was the
inevitable outcome of guilty. I was a fool to ever trust Jacquelyn Robins. When
I think of her duplicity and unctuous efforts to deceive me I don't know how she
could do it. No question about it: “I was deceived!” Despite my losses I've
since requested an appeal and I'm waiting for a response from the Court. One
more thing that disturbs me greatly about Jacquelyn Robins is this: I wrote her
some very disturbing letters. Some with blood all over them because I couldn't
stop bleeding while I was writing about my assaults at the federal holding
facility in Estancia. It appeared that she just regarded them as nominal by
ignoring them as I was still repeatedly assaulted. I wasn’t allowed to see a
doctor in Estancia during most of my assaults as in efforts to not have a record
of the assaults on me by the facility. My approximate six-month stay at Santa Fe
was also horrific, but somewhat unique as in respects to Blanco.
Blanco's real name is Byron Crumbuck, and he posed as an inmate and
lived amongst the population. What makes this scene so unique is instead of the
guards being in control Blanco was. He became the nexus to the implementation of
my adversity. Byron also had a confederate by the name of Richard Roybal who
assisted him, and he also posed as an inmate.
At Santa Fe not only did
the inmates shout death threats, but they would also call me a child molester
and accuse me of sexually assaulting my ex-wife's children while they endeavored
to murder me. How anyone could be so mentally ill to use such crude tactics I'll
never understand. Meanwhile, Blanco who lived directly above me would dump
liquefied excrement and urine down through the electrical conduit for it to
spill out on my table and disseminate throughout my cell. Officer Martinez was
on duty during most of that time. The guards in the meantime shut my water off
so I couldn't clean up my cell. I lived like that for almost two weeks and as an
end result I obtained some sort of a bacteriological infection on my feet
combined with athlete's foot purported by the facility's physician. Even my
portions of food were exiguous during the beginning of my sojourn there -and at
the Estancia facility also. I became emaciated and gaunt during that time. One
time I lost almost eighty pounds in little over a month's time in Estancia, and
I also suffered greatly from inanition.
In Santa Fe there were many
times when I wasn't fed. I even had my food thrown on me in my cell on a number
of occasions by Officer Archletta and others. During that time I was handcuffed
and shackled and I was tied to a dog leash fixed to my handcuffs and dragged
down the corridors by Officer Martin. I was put in a padded cell with no clothes
with my window unblocked for everyone to see as denigration. I still have some
of the scars from the excoriations as a result of some of those episodes. That
particular day I received: seven cuts, eight bruises, a broken toe nail -for the
second time, and it eventually fell off- a broken thumbnail, and a fractured
finger. Both my ankles and wrists were very excoriated and dripping blood. The
participants were a woman captain, Lieutenant Martin, Major Martinez, and the
Warden. They had a great time while they laughed up a storm as they implemented
their cruelty and torture. They are clearly very sick people and capable of
doing anything to anyone!
Officer Archletta would taunt me by throwing
food on me to elicit an effusion, and then his constituents would assault me
almost diurnally. I could not go to the medical department for my X-rays when I
received the fractured finger because of the threats the inmates and the guards
made; but there was a doctor who saw me much later on and confirmed the assault.
No pictures were taken immediately after the assault, but later on pictures were
taken in Oklahoma City of the scars.
The Government, Christian community, and complying states for more than twenty years -six of these years I spent in prison- tortured me. They usurped my property, and even destroyed my second marriage. They also
prevented me from earning a living by harassment at my place of employment and
destroyed my family. I was also imprisoned for about six years for an
exaggerated or fictitious crime. I became homeless with little possibility of my
ever having any self-esteem for my ex-wife's misconduct.
Although I
sometimes appear gregarious and genial I often get terrible anxiety attacks
comprised of: dizziness, hyperventilation, and numbness in my extremities and
face, even nausea. I trust no one and I can't be around people for long. I often
feel moribund and my eyes water when I think of my experiences for I know that
any possibility of me ever having a normal life is over; however, I'll never
capitulate for the fear of the loss of what we all hold most dear, our freedom.
As I would lie on my bunk in my darkened cell with the cognizance of
twelve years of my life gone past living in adversity I would tearfully and
pensively reflect on the events which took place. I often wonder how people
could be so obdurate and cruel while the echoes of my past come back to haunt
me. I often hear the inmates shouting death threats as the cascade of events
move through my mind. I would think about Jacquelyn Robins, as she stepped in
front of me at the end of our symposium and orated to Officer Rinfro, "Shouldn't
I go first!" while I pleaded with her to wait until another guard came. But she
left anyway for me to be assaulted by Officer Rinfro, and then by his
constituents in the corridor while I was handcuffed and shackled and left
defenseless. I could see by her duplicity and intonation that this was a plan. I
also think of the cruelty that was implemented by Judge Black and Dennis Montoya
before I was given a chance to explain the events that took place in
Massachusetts. In essence I've been convicted without any possible chance to
defend myself because of my ex-wife's misconduct. Moreover, when I think of the
torture I suffered at the hands of the Albuquerque Police Department at B.C.D.C.
I ask myself, "Why...? How could they do this to me? How could anybody be so
sick and cruel?" I often wish that they would carry out their death threats in
order to end my suffering and pain that I carry for what they have done to me. I
hate my life and I wish it would end.
During my very last days of
incarceration I was sent back to Springfield, Missouri, to remind me that what
happened to me would not be recognized, and any endeavor to seek recourse would
prove to be futile. I was also reminded that I would be subjected to a 42-46
commitment if I promulgated anything that happened to me there.
Judge Black once made a statement to me in his courtroom as he said, “Mr. Martin, how
could you possibly endure all that you have I'll never understand.” Being left
in a quandary as to the nature of his statement I said nothing; but when I think
back there's only one answer for that: My conscience wouldn't allow me to
compromise my principles. I knew that if I had fallen for this contorted
artifice I'd be admitting that what the Government and the Christian community were doing was right, and I'd
be subjecting more people to torture and denigration at the hands of these Godly reprobates. I'm an avid believer in our freedoms we once all had and
enjoyed. The right to live where we want and work where we choose and not
subject others to cruel and unusual punishment as stated in the eight amendment
of the Constitution -the Bill of Rights.
Thomas Jefferson once wrote in
the Declaration of Independence that we as a people are entitled to certain
inalienable rights, and among these rights are: the rights to life, liberty, and
the pursuit of happiness. Our ancestors paid the ultimate price so we, as
Americans, could enjoy the good life that they intended for us and never had,
and like profligate, irresponsible children were throwing it all away. I've come
to the cognizance through empirical extrapolation that people don't realize the
importance of something until they no longer have it. I've also realized
something else: That there could have been no greater gift given to us with no
greater love than our forefathers had given us...our freedom. I love my country;
I just wish our lawmakers did.
Sincerely,
Joseph Martin
Postscript:
Please note
that I've been repeatedly threatened to be murdered by the Albuquerque Police
Department and total strangers as to not remain in Albuquerque for my appeal and
possible new trial because they're afraid that the truth will eventually become
known. I've even been shot at by who I speculate was the Albuquerque Police
Department, and I often feel that they will carry out their threats.
Also note: I'm repeatedly arrested by the Albuquerque Police Department,
then relegated to B.C.D.C., beaten by the guards, then released with all the
charges dropped, but regardless of what they say or do I'll never return to
Massachusetts even if it ends with my demise. I've since been denied an appeal
and I'm in the most precarious situation and I'm wondering if you can help? Our
government as a result of Christian leadership has transubstantiated into an ominous malediction and is grossly
violating people's civil rights in a most iniquitous way. If you may have any
advice I'd appreciate it.
Due to the confluence of having to ameliorate
this adversity on a daily basis and the detriments I've incurred as a result it
has become very arduous to make to long trek to the city of Albuquerque as in
being able to hold a permanent job. As an end result it has become a perforce
endeavor for me to live in penury. I'm homeless, and I've lived in a ragged tent
with no heat for more than fifteen years. I was given an approbation by a homeless
shelter to use their address to collect my mail which is the address I use in
the heading of this letter. Again, I'd very much appreciate any advice or help
you can give.
Joseph Martin
To give you another
example how demented the Bush administration and the Christian community really are Listen to this: I’m not allowed to work anywhere so I’m forced to
seek medical attention at Healthcare for the Homeless. I developed
Periodontitis. I was told by the homosexual receptionist that I could not
receive any medical attention unless I went to St. Martin’s even though I was
registered at the clinic. They were using my precarious situation to get me to
capitulate to their demands. Not to mention I’m physically assaulted a St.
Martin’s to also get me to capitulate. These people are pretty mentally ill. I
won’t go to St. Martin’s for anything anymore. Ultimately it became a perforce
endeavor to remove my own teeth. I cut out three of my own teeth. Two of the
teeth removed were not recognizable. Talk about torture. Try cutting out your
own teeth. Also, because I could not get medical attention I believe I developed
a blood infection. This is another example of God's good work implemented by the
fanatics for Jesus and Honorable Governor Bill Richardson. These are very
mentally sick people to do this to another person. You would have to see them in
action to believe it.
Dear Christine Manley:
In the fall of 2003 the injury that I incurred while employed at Allegiance Staffing was not an accident! I repeatedly complained to the office staff members, such as Michael, of being harassed and threatened by co-workers as a result of the State of New Mexico’s efforts to support the Federal Government and the Christian community's machination. My injury became inevitable because the staff of Allegiance ignored my plea to abate this contorted lubricious machination of threats and assaults until a serious injury occurred. While filing a report with Allegiance Staffing Michael became worried and was reluctant to do so and tried to prevent you, the insurer, from finding out the truth of how Allegiance Staffing conducts it’s business practices; however, I do sympathize with you. My predilection at this time is to try to work with you to close this claim. Please, because of my precarious situation I ask that you write, email, or even meet me in person henceforth. Thank you for your benevolence and/or consideration.
Joseph R. Martin Jr.
I was shot at six times while at my tent
I was shot at six times while at my tent
On 7/23/09 my brake was tampered with and my wheel was damaged in such a way as to cause me serious injury at CNM. I was working on these web-pages at the time. Don’t tell anyone about the Government’s illegal activities or you could end up dead or put in prison and tortured. See for yourself. Our government has gone crazy. Martin Chavez and Darren White clearly belong in federal prison.
On 10/19/09 my bike was again tampered with a CNM and spokes were broken. During the days that the bike is being damaged I noticed one thing that holds true is that a CNM van or truck is always parked in front of the bike rack so that the bikes can’t be viewed from the parking lot. And as a rule when there is no truck there is no damage. I don’t know if there is a connection or not this is just what I empirically extrapolated.
On several occasions I noticed that there was a bike parked next to mine without a lock attached to it. And on that same day an arrogant camera man left the front of the Jeanette Stromberg building with a camera. What I’m getting at is that I was told that the Albuquerque Police often try to setup people by creating a situation or crime. I believe that this is the reason for the damage to my bike, my not being able to get a job because every time I do I’m harassed, and the unlocked bikes that are parked next to mine to put me in a situation that I become desperate enough to commit a crime so I’d be relegated to jail and tortured.
On May 1st 2009 I noticed that the fire that was in proximity of my tent was restarted, and on that same evening my campsite was beset with gun fire and the sound of fireworks.
On 6/11/09 my property was damaged at CNM and during that evening at 11:32 p.m. I woke to gunfire. Again, the Bernalillo County Sheriff’s Department is fully aware of the on goings there because they are privy and they allow it to continue.
On 6/02/09 at 1:51 a.m. my campsite was beset with gunfire in close proximity. Upon leaving CNM on this same day my front tire was flattened, by I speculate, Albuquerque’s law enforcement –Honorable Mayor Martin Chavez’s organized crime syndicate as more intimidation. This seems to be the rule also with the Bernalillo County Sheriff’s Department.
Because of my precarious situation with the Government and local law enforcement I’m virtually under surveillance diurnally. They know when I leave home, when I return, and where I’ve been. What I’m getting at is I believe that Daren White may be privy or he knows who started the fires along with the destruction of my brake cables which caused me injury. Shortly after on 4/26/09 a fire was started about 50 feet from where I live and just about a week before a fire was started 100 yards from where I live I believe to intimidate or terrorize me. That same evening out of the blue I was warned by a total stranger to watch out for the vehicles or I would be run down on my route from Wal-Mart. There are so many occurrences I would have to spend all day trying to write them down. Who knows what goes on in the mind of a crazed moron like this.
Case No.65-8982 Bernalillo County Sheriff Darren White and his organized crime syndicate are committing insidious and horrific crimes in New Mexico. On September 19th 2008 (I believe that this is the correct date.) my water was contaminated again. (I don’t know how they are getting passed a lock I put on the zipper, but they are.) Moreover, on September 26th 2008 I was shot at six times while at my tent; however, having to ameliorate similar contorted machinations diurnally I come to the cognizance that this may be nothing but a ploy to elicit consternation for my noncompliance. To be on the safe side I chose to report the crime anyway. Upon my leaving my campsite I was shot at again six more times but this time I was struck in the leg -by I believe was flying debris. I finally reached the Giant filling station and I called 911. I gave my location to the dispatcher upon his request and I was disconnected. This occurred about four times. The next time I called I reached a woman dispatcher who I believe pretended that she couldn’t hear me and I called back three more times then moved to another phone. The next time I called someone said that they could see me and that I was on camera. Also, the dispatcher sent the store clerk out to talk to me to see that everything was OK -replied the store clerk. After conversing with approximately five sheriff deputies for a few minutes I knew that this was nothing but bullshit. The rescue was called and they tried to get me to go with them and I refused. During this time I was taunted by the sheriff deputies to elicit instability and fear; however, I chose to return to my tent. Who ever is in charge of these human rights crimes which are taking place is clearly a moron and can’t do anything that displays the purview tantamount of a five-year-old which hasn’t reached full development yet and is not cognizant of the consequences for their actions.
The Sheriff Deputies did not look for the shooter which confirmed that this was nothing but bullshit and a moronic effort to bring about results that would prove to be conducive by these adynamic reprobates. Something needs to be done because these people are out of control and dangerous and someone is going to get hurt. I also wish to point out that one of the Sheriffs deputies was wearing a quick draw holster and he was also the person that appeared to be in control of these insidious efforts. He also said that I should have tried to kill the shooter and another time he stated that I should have tried to beat this person to a pulp and drag him to the road. He appeared to me to be a little man with a little man’s complex wanting to be somebody –it was like he couldn’t wait to kill somebody himself. This man is a liability waiting to happen. I believe that if I endeavored to do this the Sheriff’s Department would have murdered me because they are clearly the perpetrators of these crimes. I know that they would have. There is so much more it would take me all day to write it. What happen to our country? It’s gone mad! I hope that this makes it to your office because they are trying to block any effort on my part to get assistance.
On 05/16/07 a man approached my campsite with two dogs. When he got near my tent he sent the dogs in as an attempt to elicit some sort of response. I asked the person in question "who is named in the sheriff’s report " Case #07-553632" why are you harassing me? He stated that he sent his dog into my tent in pursuit of a rabbit. This was a lie. I watched the man from a far approaching my campsite and there was no rabbit. This was a deliberate attempt to create an argument. We exchanged more words and he left. Shortly he came back with his vehicle and stepped out with a large hammer and I had a short piece of pipe for my self-defense. We began to argue more and I stated to him I was going to get his tag number to wait there. I started to run around the fence so I could see his plate number and he drove off quickly before I could reach the other side of the trees to see his tag number.
Shortly afterwards I changed my clothing to something more appropriate to go to Walmart and do some shopping because I had on cut-offs. As I stepped out from my camp site three sheriff’s officers were standing just in front of me. One had a shotgun, one with an automatic handgun, and the other with an attack dog. They stated that I was under arrest to put my hands behind my head. The Sheriff with the handgun (Who I believe is named Shawn Conway) approached me and asked me if I had a pocket knife or anything else that might have the potential to be a weapon. I said, "Yes, I have a small pocket knife in my right front pocket." He then removed it and put it into his own pocket then he handcuffed me. I was arrested for aggravated battery and transported to MDC. It was obvious that I had been setup.
On 5-29-07 at 8:25 a.m. the receptionist (a woman sheriff’s deputy at the Department) stated that my property was sent to APD property room at 5200 Second St. NE (which was written down by the deputy for me on a piece of paper -but turned out to be the wrong address it was just down the street.) Ken (the receptionist I spoke to there his phone number is: 823-4600) said that they never received it. At this point I’d come to the cognizance that someone was lying. I stated to Ken that I was going to report my property stolen and that someone was lying as to the whereabouts of my property. After returning home my satchel, hard-drive, along with my other belongings was just outside my tent. I believe that Ken must have called them to advise them to return the property. "Please note that my pocket knife was not being used for evidence. It was not placed in with my property. And it was not returned to me. It takes a special kind of person to be so obdurate to steal from a homeless person. What would the Bernalillo County Sheriffs Department do if given an opportunity to steal something of real value?"
My satchel, hard-drive, along with my other belongings were gathered up by the Sheriff’s deputies and I was transported to the South Valley Sheriff Department Substation on Isleta Blvd., SW, Albuquerque. From there I was transported to the bus station in downtown Albuquerque which also serves as a police substation and transportation center for people being relegated to MDC -such as myself.
Upon my entering the edifice I was given a Booking number ( #130470401) and searched. During the search the MDC officer asked me to remove my belt from my pants then he excoriated the two transportation officers for being incompetent by not taking my belt from me. Then he put his hands inside the back of my pants which I thought was a strange thing to do during a search. I asked him why he did that and was he gay? He sad shut up and if I didn’t like it he would pepper spray me in the shower where there would be no surveillance camera to witness it. I was told to turn around and from my front he pulled my pants forward and put his hand into the front of my pants grabbed my private parts and slapped and pulled on them and stated to me to try to do something about it. There were two witnesses -The two transportation officers from the transportation center at the downtown substation. Upon my extrication I filed sexual assault charges on the MDC correctional officer with the Sheriff’s Department.
While I was in custody at MDC I was threatened by officers and inmates alike who were trying to inundate me with a contorted Christianity just as I was at BCDC. During my arraignment (CR10097-07) Judge Christina Jaramillo set my bail at $7,500; however, I was held for several days then released. I was not allowed to get medical attention despite numerous requests. My toothpaste that was unique because of its ingredient to help fight the infection that I had was thrown into the trash by Matt (the sheriff's deputy who brought me to the transportation center at the bus station in downtown Albuquerque) rather than take it back to the property room where he was going to return to anyway. Matt arrogantly stated that if I didn't like it to file a complaint. The public defender and her assistant who was a paralegal did all they could to elicit improper behavior from me. These people are clearly mentally ill to act in such a way. Upon my extrication I went to the public defenders office to gather information on who the public defender and paralegal was and they would not supply the necessary information. They said that it was not available, but a fool could see via their duplicity and intonation that they were lying.
During my sojourn at MDC I requested Senator John Kerry’s mailing address from the caseworker who habituated our pod twice a week. In my past experiences of dealing with our corrupt government I’ve come to the cognizance that Mr. Kerry was an honorable person that worked diligently to fight for the people despite the obstacles he may incur. I also requested the names of the paralegal and public defender that were very incredibly lubricious and insidious as to try to elicit improper behavior on my part. The very next day I was released. I believe that this was an insalubrious cabal to justify my being relegated to MDC and also to insure my not being extricated from the facility if the machination was to fail. The paralegal during my arraignment passed by me stated verbatim that she was going to have me sent to the nut house to elicit an effusion. What I find so ironic is that Honorable Judge Christina Jaramillo would become privy to a conspiracy of sexual assault and torture. I believe that Judge Christina Jaramillo was fully aware of my situation because in the court room she denied me a chance to explain my precarious situation not once, not twice, but three times. How a Judge could become privy to such a sick violation of civil and human rights is beyond words. She is a real piece of work.
I’ve written numerous civil rights organizations, the Center for Justice & Accountability, the Department of Justice civil rights division, the Judicial Standards Committee, Attorney General Gary King, the Democratic National Committee, and various Congressmen as in efforts to abate Governor Bill Richardson's insanity and criminal behavior. My food was poisoned on the 4th of July 2005 (It was the beans I had with my eggs. I passed out from eating it for an undetermined amount of time) my water was contaminated in the summer of 2006, and gunshots have been fired just outside my tent for years as a terrorist act. I believe that the Sheriff’s department is responsible, and if not completely responsible they’re aware and complacent with the Gestapo tactics that are taken place. I informed Margot Lynn Kyrlach about the poisoning of my food because I known for a longtime that she was privy to these civil rights violations and they still continue. Bill Richardson needs to be investigated and the appropriate action taken for his criminal behavior. I believe that he is a very mentally sick man and is quite capable of doing anything to anyone for his own avaricious gain and so do many others.
To whom it may concern:
Because of my precarious situation of threats, harassment, and assaults by the State of New Mexico and the United States Government I'm forced to live in penury as a homeless person. Here is just some of what happened to me:
Just outside my tent I heard a voice vociferate, "Open Space Rangers! Come out with your hands up!" When I unzipped the door to my tent I saw a Ranger with a machinegun pointing it at my head; and another with an assault shotgun; and another with a mini 14; and still another with a handgun. Then a ranger yelled, "Get over there and kneel down! Put your hands behind your back!" Then he began to place handcuffs around my wrists. I said, "What the hell is going on!" as a ranger kept his mini 14 affixed to the side of my head! Why are you doing this? He retorted, "Shut up!" I then retorted, "This is a gross violation of peoples’ civil liberties! I committed no crime!" He snapped back, "Yes you did! You’re camping!"
All told there were four rangers -three of them had assault rifles and the other had a handgun- and they were all pointing them at me. I couldn’t believe that they were going to such an extreme for such a petty violation –camping. They almost shot me with a machinegun for camping. I could see through empirical and dialectal extrapolation that the precarious situation I’ve incurred could very well bring about my demise –and it almost did. It was as if they were just looking for any reason to shoot me. It was apparent that these four law enforcement officers were clearly not amenable to reason, or they had an ulterior motive.
One officer trashed out my tent throwing everything everywhere looking for anything he could find in hopes to build some sort of case against me to warrant their actions and found nothing. They marched me up to the dirt road at gunpoint while handcuffed to issue a citation for camping. I started to question one of the officers about the guns that they were using. I said to him you have an assault shotgun right, and your confederate has a mini 14, what kind of gun does that other officer have? He belligerently and satirically orated a big gun. I then asked him what his name was and he said arrogantly it was none of my business. I later learned the officer’s badge number. It was number 9. Meanwhile, I could here the other officers confabulating and one officer said to the other, " Do you hear what they’re talking about? I don’t like the way that conversation is going." So to justify their actions of using machineguns for a camping violation he began to speak, "It’s my job to make sure that no fires get started here." I said don’t you think that using assault rifles is just a little overboard in the enforcement of camping violations. You almost killed me for camping. He then said verbatim, "I don’t give a god damn about you! I’m going home to see my family and you mean nothing to me! This supported my speculation that I was not dealing with reasonable and rational people. He also said that I could very well have had a machinegun myself and he wasn’t taking any chances, but this was a fallacious statement and this is why: For four consecutive days I notice footprints -even horse prints- around my campsite, but I didn’t think that I was doing anything wrong because my campsite was out of the city limits. Also, two Open Space Rangers pulled along side of me in two four wheel drive vehicles as I was returning to my campsite and asked me if I had seen any motorcycles in the area. I speculated via his intonation and duplicity that he was prevaricating, and that there was an ulterior motive, and I speculated right. This officer was clearly paranoid and possibly a great danger to the public.
Sincerely,
Joseph R. Martin Jr.
Mr. King:
I’ve sent a copy of the letter I’ve written Dean Berkowitz at CNM. I waited twenty-four hours for a response and there wasn’t any. I checked my email this morning. I believe that the Dean is either hoping that the problem will just go away or he is afraid of incriminating himself because after he hears what I have to say and he doesn’t do anything about the situation this would also clearly make him privy to the criminal behavior here.
What I’m getting at is that John Hide was a good student at CNM he led a quiet life and had little contact with the police prior to the double homicides. I don’t know John Hide and I never came in contact with the man, but I know of the goings on at the CNM open computer lab. For more information on John Hide go to http://martin-110.tripod.com/index.APD.html If John Hide was a student here at CNM it is very likely that he habituated the open computer lab as most students do and he also may have been tortured by these people who work here and just reached his satiation point and went off. If a person is inundated with enough adversity day after day it is likely that they may retaliate from the stress and criminal behavior that they are trying to ameliorate. To recapitulate: People can make things happen even though they are not the ones to pull the trigger but they are guilty of cruel and unusual punishment which may have been the catalyst for the two homicides. I’m not saying that this is the case, but it sure does appear to be so. This would make Randy Crandall and his confederates guilty of conspiring to elicit murder.
I’ve researched Governor Bill Richardson’s criminal behavior everything from extortion to ties to drug dealers and I built a webpage remonstrating this and it was destroyed along with other work that I have done that exposes corruption in government.
Complaint to Dean Berkowitz at CNM
I habituate the lab almost diurnally where Randy Crandall is the person in charge –the Jeannette Stromberg building, the open computer lab. My complaint is: The computer in which I use is being tampered with as to the point to where my web-pages are being destroyed. Moreover, my property is damaged such as my glasses were broke. I park my bike outside and someone stabs holes in my tires, kicks in my basket, kicking in my wheels and breaking my frame. A young man with a funny hat who works in the office walks past smiling to elicit an effusion while my web-pages are being tampered with and blocked from opening, my searches are being blocked along with other erratic behavior which prevents me from doing my work. Staff members walk past and tell people that their headphones are too loud when I can’t even hear them and I’m sitting next to them. I’ve complained to Randy on myriad occasions only to find that the man is incompetent is the only conclusion I can come up with or he just don’t care. There is so much more but I rather tell you in person because my letters are being read as I write them. There are so many complaints and some of them are criminal. I also intend to write the Attorney General's Office about the criminal complaints. Thank You
Mr. King, thank you for your time. I know that you have your hands full in this state. If there is anything you see that you can use in the web-pages I built you better save it because you know our government –organized crime at work. These pages are not encrypted so you can copy anything.
On 10/19/09 my bike was again tampered with a CNM and spokes were broken. During the days that the bike is being damaged I noticed one thing that holds true is that a CNM van or truck is always parked in front of the bike rack so that the bikes can’t be viewed from the parking lot. And as a rule when there is no truck there is no damage. I don’t know if there is a connection or not this is just what I empirically extrapolated.
On several occasions I noticed that there was a bike parked next to mine without a lock attached to it. And on that same day an arrogant camera man left the front of the Jeanette Stromberg building with a camera. What I’m getting at is that I was told that the Albuquerque Police often try to setup people by creating a situation or crime. I believe that this is the reason for the damage to my bike, my not being able to get a job because every time I do I’m harassed, and the unlocked bikes that are parked next to mine to put me in a situation that I become desperate enough to commit a crime so I’d be relegated to jail and tortured.
I was drugged at the Good Shepherd during mealtime. I was driven to Presbyterian Hospital by Mike and Tim and then I was told I was having a heart attack. This was not true. I was forced to stay until they gave me an injection and the vomiting went away soon after.
During the summer of 2010 I was being forced to accept a contorted Christianity by Judge Sedillo and COAST to return to Massachusetts to my ex-wife Jeanne. At the same time I was being shot at; my solar panel was stolen; they were busting my bike all to pieces; and stabbing holes in my clothes.
Then I moved to an island on the Rio Grande in Bosque Farms. Upon my arrival the river was flooded four feet more than usual and my food was thrown in the mud. Shortly after a mountain lion was released near my tent and retrieved four days later. I’m being shot at and I was able to get the plate number of the truck that the shooter was driving it is: 343-PTT New Mexico. The bullet for the hand gun just missed my head. I vociferated to him that he just missed my head and he returned five more shots in rapid scission. I bought Albertson's brand ice cream that made me vomit twice. I was also struck by a car even after I yelled for the driver to stop three times. There is a report filed at the Los Lunas Police Department. The list goes on and on. I believe that it is only a matter of time before they bring about my demise. Can you please help? My email address is: martin54nm@hotmail.com