CHAPTER ONE: The Attack of the Little People:
TORONTO THE GOOD:
Toronto is one of the world’s most secure and wonderful cities and there are few social systems as good as we have in Canada. My name is Robert Bruce Baird and I live in Parkdale where my parents lived and where I spent the first two years of my life. Circumstances or co-incidences see me researching my books at the same library where my father read almost every book while his grandfather worked long and hard to create the union in an era when that was a meaningful contribution to society and the world. It is a new building and I am sure there are many more books. I can remember him saying he would get the librarian to bring in many books that he wanted in addition to the complete works of Shakespeare, Shaw and the Britannica. He imparted a true Joy of Learning in me that I have never lost. But I am fifty-five years old and I have given up on the materialistic society I once excelled at to the point that I was a self-made millionaire by the age of thirty. I am a proponent of a spiritual and ethical approach to matching assets and responsibilities to actualize plans such as full technology usage in the vein of Galbraith and Bucky Fuller or the Club of Rome. You might already have gathered that from the quotes I began this book with, if you know Bucky’s work. Toronto was one of the places Bucky spent a lot of time.
Friday February, 23, 2006 seemed like many other days at the start. I had finished another book called Phoenician Makers of the Bible and Much More a couple of days before. I was continuing work on two other books but taking it easy as the Winter Olympics from Torino provided me with a lot of entertainment. I was thinking about when I should re-contact best-selling author Jim Marrs about his offer to do a forward for my book titled America’s Assassination and Aspirations. Jim wrote the book that the movie JFK is based on, in part. He is a long time correspondent of mine and we have both given each other some helpful research since I started writing and participating in the World Wide Web. He has said he will do this in the spring so I decided to wait until the end of March; but as you will shortly see I might be in jail at that time.
After depositing my Canada Pension Plan and Ontario Disability Support Plan (ODSP) checks in the bank I went back to the Group Home I self-admitted myself to about seven years earlier. The ODSP check is for about $33. and I could live on my own and get more money from them. They pay my landlord about $500. a month in addition to my rent of $543.30. My spendable income is less than $200. a month with a tax rebate amounting to about $550. a year which I use to get my books in the market or to do research on artifacts sent to me by fellow researchers. I went to the smoking lounge to watch the Olympic coverage and to see how many medals Canada was adding to their already historic medal count.
Minh the Mighty:
There is a long history of activism in regards to my involvement in the Group Home or Hospital and Prison Without Walls that I live in. When I came here in January 1999 the home was owned by Mrs. Carmen Carter whose husband had died a short time earlier. He was a Seventh Day Adventist minister and leader and she is from a wealthy Jamaican family. She had been a psychiatric nurse and was on Mayoral Committees and they had donated the land that Branson Hospital is located on and the city was asking for more of the land to expand that hospital upon as I remember. Mrs. Carter said I was sent by God and other such things. At first I tired to help the mentally challenged and victimized people of the larger community. I established Bridge Clubs and Euchre Tournaments with the help of a COTA (Community Occupational Therapy Associates) worker named Catriona. I organized a newsletter and paid for the printing myself. Catriona said that her bosses liked it and they would distribute it. Habitat Services checked it out in advance and also indicated they would distribute it but the self-help and groups I was promoting created a problem for one of their Directors who had pursued his adopted son into the ‘consumer survivor’ community and these homes for over sixteen years.
His son was cross-dressing and was diagnosed as having Multiple Personality Disorder. In one four or five hour session with me he opened up more than he had ever done with all his social workers, psychologists and psychiatrists during that sixteen years. I discovered someone in his family had taken lit cigarettes to his penis and other such travesties of morality. His step-father was the Director of Habitat that we were dealing with and though I never met him in person he began slandering me. The newsletter was never delivered and we stopped making it after three months. This young man had a sister adopted by the same family. This family is very wealthy and I can only imagine that they would not want this can of worms opened up given the fact that the young girl had run away and she had been involved in the sex trade. These are common symptoms of the Cycle of Violence and incest and the system does not wish to address those problems directly because parents are often the victimizer and they are the voters as well as the fact that it would be hard to help all those who have been abused. C. Everett Koop as Surgeon-General of the United States said it was an epidemic. I was involved in a personal mission to help these people in the US for at least nine years including a year when I lived with a noted Doctor of Psychology who was my ‘twin’ (born the same day as me).
I eventually stopped actively reaching out to help people when various other acts of psychiatrists and hospitals made it clear I was black-flagged and they would not support my efforts. I continued to help as I could in my own home. Mrs. Carter had developed Alzheimer’s or something like that and she had sold the home to Peter and Kelly about a year and a half before the confrontation that is the cause of this effort or explanation.
In the week leading-up to Minh attacking me one of the people I had helped had moved out of the house. His name is Peter Lye and he would have been able to provide me with a good witness to what happened and the police constable would have been more hesitant to do what he did if Peter had been there. I am pretty sure Minh knew this and began to try to get me at this juncture partially because Peter was no longer there. Peter had held the door open over a year earlier when I threw Minh out the door from some distance. Minh is anorexic and less than half my weight. He and his crack-smoking lover who had been squatting in his room for most of that month had forced us to take action and involve the police on more than one occasion. At that juncture Philip (his lover) had bumped me with his chest and I was about to throw him out when Minh came to his lover’s defence.
So when I returned from doing my banking and started to watch the Olympics Minh came into the smoking lounge and turned the station on the TV. Minh does not smoke cigarettes and I do not know if he personally does the cocaine and crack that was often done by his male lovers in his room. A year earlier had seen the end of him going into the street and bringing as many as six lovers a day into his room as well as other thieves, prostitutes and low-lifes. At this juncture I had seen the medal update and there was nothing I really needed to watch; and even though others might have liked to continue watching and Minh had not asked for a vote – I went upstairs to work on my books and web communities.
Later in the day I returned to watch the hockey game between Finland and Russia. Minh came in and turned the station and was still moving it despite my asking him not to. I got up from the couch and went to the TV. I grabbed his hand and because the TV knobs are missing and we have to stick our fingers into the holes where the knobs used to be I had to move his hand backwards rather than merely slap it away. I did not look to see what happened when I threw his hand backwards as I started to return the TV station to the game we were watching.
Minh punched me in the eye from behind. I continued to get the TV onto the right station as well as continuing to smoke a cigarette in my other hand. He may have hit me more than once but am not sure when each aspect of my wounds and chucks of hair lying on the floor occurred. I do remember getting on top of him while still smoking my cigarette and him yanking a huge lock of hair from my head. I do not have a lot of hair up top but I am trying to be humorous in mentioning that. It was at this time that he stuck his fingers into my eye socket and I became concerned. I stood up and got hold of his head. I pushed his head down towards his knees and gradually got him to where I could sit on a chair even though he continued to punch at my lower extremities. I had my left hand under his chin and my right hand on the back of his head at the base of the skull or the top of his neck. He continued punching me even though he must have known I could have broken his neck easily at this juncture.
There have been other incidents where I did not call the police when Minh hit me and I think he knows that I am a person who will not hurt other people unless I have to. In this instance I called for the staff person who we call Cliff to phone the police because I thought this would rise to the level of being worthy of an assault charge what with seeing my hair on the floor and knowing I was bleeding near my eye. There are legal uncertainties about what is allowable for tenants, owners and other rights including whether or not the law for hotels or motels, or apartments apply. This uncertainty had existed even when the house got good police service while Mrs. Carter paid the Benevolent Association and up to $500 a month to various police causes; while avoiding payment of duty on her American-registered Mercedes Benz with Texas plates that had been given to her when her son died around the same time her husband had passed on. Peter and Kelly refused to pay the Benevolent Association when asked to do so but there is no proof which clearly establishes the nature of the ‘protection racket’ they run. The art of SPIN and deception is not limited to journalism or politics.
A TOUGH HOMBRE:
When the police arrived my friend Mel was at the door holding it open for them. Melvin is a black man who served two tours in Vietnam including a black ops base in Laos or Cambodia as an aircraft technician. He became a drug addict in Vietnam but he has beaten the habit in the last four years with the help of Peter and myself as well as others. I asked the policeman if I could leave Minh in his care so I could rest after a long period of adrenaline rush and energy spent restraining his. I sat down in my usual place on the corner of the couch with the table between me and the lady cop I later learned is named Caroline. She took information including my ID from my shaking hands while I explained to the constable what had occurred.
Incredibly the policeman said he would not be pressing any charges as he felt it was just a fight despite the evidence to the contrary. I explained my role in the house even though I was pretty sure he had been there before at a time when things were especially rough and a parolee who was threatening everyone had defecated on the floor in front of the kitchen door to get back at the staff. I explained that I had done everything according to what many cops and the owner thought was the proper way to handle such a confrontation but that we still needed further clarity from the courts as to the legal position we were in vis a vis the different labels that might be legally interpreted as applicable to the situation. He said I was no lawyer and that he was no “Average Joe” and preened his ego along with using words of a purple nature. I responded with the same words and told him I wanted a judge to decide and that I did not need his opinion or that of any other cop due to the established uncertainty. I also said that if there were no charges laid against Minh that would necessitate people using force to protect themselves. He said I was “Threatening”. There is a legal charge that could go along with that. He asked Cliff (Who I think had just came by and quickly left. His son had been killed in the previous two years while acting as security for a downtown bar.) for his opinion and Cliff muttered something about having nothing to say.
I pointed out that the owners were not paying the ‘protection’ and that his threats of sending me to jail did not bother me. I like Jail or I could certainly say I have learned a lot in jail as you can see from my appendix number one. I probably told him about that article titled The Man Who Loved Jail which has been on the web for some time. The situation continued with us repeating our positions until he asked me to go outside. I got up and was near the door when he first laid hands on me. I told him there was no need to get physical. He continued and I braced myself on the door jambs with my legs apart. I remember his first punch to my kidney did not hurt and I remember him saying to his partner “Take him down”. I let them wail on me for a minute or more and kept saying I was not resisting arrest but rather I was insisting on it.
I do not recall him asking me to go to the floor in the small room but I could see that might end the charade so I went onto the floor on my hands and knees. He pounced upon me on the left side of my body and the lady cop went to my fight and grabbed my hand which was under the table. His weight on my shoulders and neck did make it hard to breathe when I was face down on the floor and I told them I was not resisting but I would have to move so I could breath. They could not prevent me from doing any movement I wished to do. I would imagine I weigh as much as the two of them do together. I was on my back with my hands out front to the side so she could put the cuffs on and he was on top of me screaming obscenities and asking me if I could breathe better as he had both hands on my neck. I think he was trying to choke me but he was unable to do it.
Author of many books available at Lulu and World-Mysteries.com
