There's no doubt. Celebs are Monarch Slaves, page 2

Have you read "Thanks for the Memories - The Memories of Bob Hope's and Henry Kissinger's Mind-controlled Slave" its very interesting but also very disturbing. Heres a part from chapter 2.

Brice Taylor - Thanks for the Memories

Chapter Two: Early Childhood Preparation

In order for my birth to be accomplished on presidential inauguration day, January 20th, 1951, my mother's labor was induced at St. John's Hospital in Santa Monica, California. My parents named me Susan Lynne Eckhart. The selection of inauguration day for my birth was especially meaningful
given the position I would be groomed to one day fill. My parents told the story for years that my first words were, "I like Ike." Even at the early age of one, they were training me to be politically-minded and had me cheering in a campaign effort for the President-elect.

Once my mother and I were released from the hospital after my birth, my father began the rigorous training and intentional torture required to shatter my base personality with the goal of creating many separate and individual personalities for training and use by others as I grew older. When my mother left my father to babysit me, he withheld all food until I was starving. Then he held my bottle in front of me, but instead of allowing me to have the bottle, he would slip his penis into my mouth for me to suck. I felt I was dying through suffocation, as my airway was blocked and I gagged for breath. There were many such traumas to follow, most often on a daily basis.

For you to understand how I came to trust the things I began remembering at age 35 about my earliest childhood, I will share the following experiences. In meditation, I began remembering small,
inconsequential things at first, like the time my mother left my father to care for me when I was four months old. He laid me on top of the dining room table and watched as I fell off! I clearly remembered the panicked feeling of terror as I was falling and remembered the overwhelming sharp pain that resulted in my body as I hit the floor. I also remembered the color of the carpeting, the design on the wallpaper and other details about the room. We moved from this house in Santa Monica when I was 6
months old, and I never saw it again.

Unable to fathom what these earliest of childhood memories could mean, I began reading about the experiences of Vietnam veterans and how they suddenly relived flashbacks of traumas they witnessed in war. I thought this might be the same type of memory phenomenon. In order to test my recall of this particular incident, I shared the details of this memory with my mother. Her reaction was one of amazement although she seemed terribly confused about my father's actions.
She said I had described our first house and was surprised I could remember so accurately details from an event that happened when I was only an infant. Being the third child to a very busy mother, there were no pictures taken of me in that house that I could have seen. The validation she gave me made me feel more trusting of the other memories that soon began flooding back into my awareness.