by me, Kerry Burgess, 08/26/2026 01:39 AM
Silo later
Why this seems important to me
Here's why it is not important to you: because you are not me.
Because you are not important enough to be forced into this public campaign of mine.
Rational evidence I was clandestinely drugged in the 1980s. Some form of pharmaceutical that would not be discovered - presumably - without specialized screening and that I knew nothing about or even suspected.
What it comes down to: a haircut.
In this season of "Silo" they are calling it "Vitamin D+". In the book, it was something about homogenizing the human-race, confined into habitation silos that forces them into caste society.
The drug makes them forget. They don't know about it.
Don't know what I was being hit with in the 1980s. Lately, I have been thinking it was something that has made me more compliant with some form of unknown and artificial influence.
Soon that sort of artificial influence will be in the form of your gullibility and naivete with that ridiculous "artificial intelligence" peddled by those lameoids and lottery-winners such as Elon Musk and Sam Altman.
I hate using the term "telepathy" because popular science-fiction has made that such a moronic notion. It's as moronic as the mythology of the Jesus Christ mythology superstition or any form of religion.
I am finding instruction in the story of Zefram Cochrane from the 1960s and then the 1996 movie
There are times I think about from the 1980s and there were moments when I would think to myself: why am I not doing better?
From my research here, I found conclusive a possible explanation consistent with facts
It's not that I was a total screwup.
In fact, I was often better than anyone else.
There were times however I would wonder why I was not doing better.
Not like I had to be motivated to do better.
In fact, the objective seemed to be to restrain me from my full potential.
Because of "Silo" this season, I am thinking about how the clandestine sabotage to my brain could have been affecting me.
Tonight, I am thinking back to one experience early into my assignment to the US Navy fleet.
I looked at the map on Google.
The imagery is completely consistent with my memory.
The day was 12/19/1984. I had just arrived to Bath, Maine, to report to my ship, the USS Taylor FFG-50, US Navy.
The ship had been commissioned into active-service on 12/01/1984 and was still moored to the shipyard pier at Bath Iron Works, where it was constructed.
Looking at the map, I see the intersection of Washington Street and Union Street in Bath, Maine.
That is completely familiar to me to this day. There is a parking lot on the east side of Washington Street. I walked through there and the ship was moored there. That might be a wharf, actually. Looking at the overhead map images, it is clearly there.
That first day I reported in, stowed my seabag. Liberty call arrived that afternoon, decided to leave the ship and get a beer. Back then, Maine was one of the states a man, aged 19 years 1 month, could purchase alcohol in a bar.
I walked across Washington Street, where I had earlier seen a nightclub, went over there by myself, sat down at the bar and ordered a bottle of Budweiser.
There must have been some grumblings from the other clientele because the other comment I heard plainly was from the bartender as he looked over at me: "His money is good here"
Must be my haircut. I have not talked to anyone about anything. I am just there to drink beer. This has become a familiar type of place to me, over five months after leaving basic-training. I am not here to socialize. Today literally every person everywhere around there is a stranger to me. I don't know any of you, I don't want to know any of you.
Undeterred I continued drinking beer. I had heard it all before from the workers down at the gravel-pit in my younger years.
At some point, I was lured outside by a young woman.
Forget now what it was she said. The outcome is that I seemed to be walking her back to her house, nearby. Looking now at the map, I would guess that was somewhere between Union and Shepard, off Washington Street. I can visualize being at that house at the front door. It was dark and I think we did not walk very far from the bar.
We were at the front door and something was wrong. She didn't have her key or something. Mysteriously, a car arrived at that moment in the street and a man and woman told me there was a young woman in the back seat. They could not get her out of their car. The woman who lured me to the house seems to have vanished at that point.
I went over the car and the woman got out. Then she got me walking somewhere else with her. The final part I remember is she suggested a Dunkin Donuts shop and we sat here and then she seemed to fall asleep as we sat at the counter. The city police officers arrived and with the drawl of a northeaster asked me if I knew her. Forget my response but I guess that is when I left and went back to the ship.
I must have told my new coworkers about it because "Tater" told me to leave with them that afternoon and they would show me where to go. That might have been the night at the enlisted nightclub in Portland.
But it was that parking lot I remember standing there with "Tater" and my other coworkers that I saw that younger woman standing there with her friend and she was looking at me. One guy made a disparaging remark about her when I pointed her out and so I left without saying anything.
Contributing to this experience was a scene later on the ship.
We still had a lot of shipyard workers aboard then and one day, as I walked through that centerline passageway approaching the door leading outside and onto the helicopter-deck, a shipyard worker made a comment
He must have noticed me approaching and his comment - loud enough for me to hear - was something about all that money we were paid for no real work. Something like that. I ignored it and continued walking.
What this reminds me of is about haircuts.
When I endured regular uniform inspections then I was always equal to the best and sometimes the best overall.
But for some reason, it just would slip my mind that I was supposed to get haircut.
Was not like I was avoiding it deliberately.
I showed up at the Wainwright in 1987 and I probably had not had a haircut in over a month. The master-chief Master-at-Arms was an imposing character and he got in my face one day during a ship's meeting on the helicopter deck and asked me what division I was in and when was the last time I had a haircut. I knew my division (we were still 4th Division back then before changing to the consistency of CF-Division) but I certainly did not know the last time I got a haircut.
That wasn't the last time either. Was not a complete failure because from 1987 to 1989 or 1990 I was the CO's phone-talker on the bridge during special sea and anchor detail so that would have been a reason for getting a haircut.
In 1989, it becomes especially confusing, for reasons I have documented and theorized.
by me, Kerry Burgess, 08/26/2026 02:33 AM
And now the newest episode of "Silo" I have not yet viewed. It is the third-to-last episode of season 3.
Season two of "Dark Matter" begins two days from now.
You must be especially interested in what I discover if you read my previous blog-posts here on my blog about it. The one that always draws me back is about that painting.
by me, Kerry Burgess, 08/26/2026 02:59 AM
From what I remember reading so far in the book this is a major deviance of not only the overall Safeguard process but a significant deviance in this specific detail
Seven and one
You know what that means.
by me, Kerry Burgess, 08/26/2026 03:20 AM
About 40 minutes in and "what's the heaviest thing in here" and then he's pounding on that steel wall.
Suddenly, an image from restless sleep hours ago, last time I was asleep and that I wondered about a few times today.
That civilian job I had in the 1990s after my enlistment ended. Boring details about me working electric- and electronic-maintenance of those ATM cash machines.
From the bank of a river, I saw an object suddenly and unexpectedly crash into the river below. The details puzzled me and I wondered what it was supposed to represent. It was not fully a freight-container structure and it was a land-based structure and it appeared the only detail I was visualizing was a wall of a freight-containers and I was seeing a very large object crash into the river.
Now back to the episode to see what mysterious object they are searching to find hidden somewhere in there so that the entire population of that habitation silo does not die horribly in the dark as is secretly predicted to happen in the near future for them all, among other threats.
- by me, Kerry Wayne Burgess, posted by me: 03:55 AM Pacific-timezone USA Wednesday 08/26/2026
