Archive for the michael jordan Category

WHAT KIND OF MONSTER WAS HE?

Posted in Illuminati, It's a Damn Shame, michael jordan with tags , , , , , , , , on May 14, 2010 by Kenya

Remember her?  This woman is Michael Jordan’s sister, Deloris. Some years back Michael Jordan’s oldest sister wrote a book chronicling how her father, James Jordan raped her repeatedly for eight years.  Of course nobody believed that the father of an iconic athlete would stoop so low as to rape his own daughter, but knowing what I know, and what I suspect about Michael Jordan being another mind controlled victim/slave, makes this perfectly sane.  Did daddy Jordan also rape/sell Mike in order to have him programmed much like Earl Woods Sr. sold Tiger into Illuminati slavery.  I believe that these so called “super athletes” are nothing more than products of torture and programming to perform incredible feats of athleticism.

James Jordan the pedophile/incestor/rapist was shot in some ‘random’ act of violence.  So what happened?  Did he violate the terms of his contract (oath), or was this a message to Mike to get back on track and honor his contract?  The connection between most mind controlled celebs and military relatives has not escaped me.  Anyway, here is an excerpt from Deloris Jordans book…

Ending eight years after it first began and five years after losing my virginity to my father, it scares me to think how much longer the abuse would have went on had I not spit out the dreadful truth to my mother during one of our many heated disagreements.  Disagreements that were sometimes anything but pleasant and often featured no indication of love between the two of us.

So as she ranted and raved about how no slutty daughter of hers better get pregnant and bring any bastard children into her house.  I finally heard myself saying: “If I am so much of a slut, why don’t you keep your husband out of my bed?”

When I finally found the courage to let my father’s deeds tumble from my lips, I did not know what to expect, but I never in a million years would have guessed that my mother would turn on me. Her words of betrayals did far more damage to me than my father’s deeds. They spoke volumes to the fact that she really did not care about me, which my father obviously knew. It is because she was so expressive with her dislike for me that probably made my father know he could get away with violating me.

My father confessed his actions on the same day that I disclosed them to my mother. And on that frightful day of admission, I watched my mother, looking for a sign, any sign that she cared about me.

The memory of my father whispering in my ear during the wee hours of the night about the beauty of my body has played over and over in my head for many years. And as if that has not been incapacitating enough by itself, having to comprehend the fact that more often than not, he had just gotten out of the bed he shared with my mother to find his way to my bedroom has just added to the realization of the painful situation.

I just couldn’t imagine  being raped by my own father, and then having to sit across from him at breakfast the next morning, my heart goes out to her and Michael.  I have no respect for the mother and father.

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