M.I.A. denied visa, endorses MasterCard

AIM and M.I.A. are forever mated in palindrome, but the news site is reporting that Her Highness of Baile Funk has been denied entry into the U.S. (thanks, tipster). Visa officials aren’t hip to terror chic by either Modi or Maya.

Speed bump courtesy of the Tamil Tigers

London rapper M.I.A. has been denied a visa to visit or work in the USA by immigration officials… Sources close to the British Sri-Lankan MC said that her lawyers are frantically trying to resolve the situation… She is hoping to get back to the USA as soon as US immigration will allow for a collaboration with producer Timbaland on her next album. [Link]

… Arulpragasam doesn’t downplay her Tiger connection, she flaunts it, it’s integral to her marketing. She did a mix album using unauthorized samples called Piracy Funds Terrorism. Her song ‘Sunshowers’ refers to suicide bombs (‘And some showers I’ll be aiming at you’), her first album bears her dad’s [LTTE] codename. Jungle guerrillas are all over the ‘Sunshowers’ video, there’s a large running tiger in her excellent concert visuals, she does a soldier step on stage and a shoutout to the P.L.O. [Link]

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p>Arulpragasam’s blog is littered with misspellings, but her interview video clips have that sexayy, husky voice, a confidence which shows up on screen but not always on stage. Does your starcrush survive? Roll again.

THEY TRY SHUT MY DOOR!

Roger roger do you here me over!!!!
the U.S immigration wont let me in!!!!!
i was mennu work with timber startin this week, but now im doin a Akon “im locked out they wont let me in” im locked out! they wont let me in! Now Im strictly making my album outside the borders!!!! so il see you all one day, for now ill keep reportin from the sidelines
to my people who walk wiv me in the America, dont forget we got the internet! Spread the word! or come get me!!!!!! ill be in my bird flu lab in china! liming and drinkin tiger beer with my pet turtel. I love everyone for the support, now i need it more. ill stay up spread out else where. [Link]

im in india right now, hurding cows, theres some minister staying at my hotel, and his body guard has a a.k 47. me and my brother just caught him knockin on peoples doors askin for money. the police body guard that it. [Link]

The last time U.S. immigration turned back a pop star, they nailed international archvillain Cat Stevens. I sleep so much better at night knowing they foiled the plot to threaten America with music from the ’70s. Playing ‘Where’s Osama?’ pales in comparison.

Related posts: M.I.A.: Step up to blow up, The Modi protest, Modi gets B*slapped, Ain’t no junk in her trunk, Ga-ching-a-ching-a-ching, Wah, po’ Maya, I coulda been a contendah, Hello, this is M.I.A., Grind me down sugar salt, Fire Fire (updated again), Tinted Tilly, Bucky Done Underwhelmed, The transit of Venus in Mercury, New York, quieten down…, Acid-washed genes, M.I.A., fashion victim, M.I.A. now a role model?, Missing in Acton, Monsters of rock

184 thoughts on “M.I.A. denied visa, endorses MasterCard

  1. I have family friends who were hunted during Emergency, have close knowledge of police getting killed by Muslim fundamentalists in broad daylight and then protected by the so-called psecular politicians. Modi was just a reaction and outlet for failure to prosecute and punish goons because of political patronage and the street justice was carried out because people didn’t have faith that the Godhra pepetrators will be protected.

    I am not sure what Indian Muslims had to do with emergency. As for your close knowledge of Muslim fundamentalists killing Hindus and then being given protection, that is a symptom of the corruption that permeates all levels of the Indian society. However to extrapolate from that and infer that Gujarat was a reaction to avenge the deaths of Hindus by unpunished Muslims is silly at best.

    Meerut, Bhagalpur, Surat, Bombay and Gujarat (all Anti-Muslim) and Delhi (Anti-Sikh) were the big sectarian riots in India and there is a lot of evidence which would suggest that the state machinery in all these riots was either actively participating in rioting against Muslims or were passive cheerleaders as the mobs rampaged through Muslim/Sikh areas.

    Harsh Mander a former civil servant in India, is going to come over to the US in May. Hes going to be in CA for a few weeks and I encourage you to go to his workshop. Hes going to hold workshops on how to legally deal with state sanctioned violence in India. He actually resigned from his position during the Gujarat riots and is now coming to the US to raise money to take the perpetrators of Gujarat violence to court.

    The people who are getting him to the US, have also worked on trying to get justice for the victims of riots in Surat, Meerut and Bhagalpur. To give you an example, in Hashimpura and Maliana (suburbs of Meerut) in UP in 1987, the police, here the Provisional Armed Constables (PAC) hauled up 140 Muslims kids aged 14-16, took them to a lake near Bulandshahar (a small town in UP) and shot them dead one by one, throwing their bodies in the lake. 3 of those kids surivived to testify and the case was in Court for a decade till the BJP government in UP stopped pursuing it.

  2. Hail Mogambo!

    I have noticed many traitors here on this thread claiming that Hindus are capable of carrying out mass murders!

    These anti-national so called secularists need to be taught the wonderful fragrance of 84 squillion years of Vedic system of tolerance that means Hindus are never capable of carrying out violence!

    The so called victims of Gujarat riots actually set fire to themselves.

    Down with Harsh Mander the self hating Hindu!

    (He must be being paid by Abrahamics for betraying the Mother India, why can’t he weep over the 6 trillion Hindus killed by Muslims and Christians 1000 years ago?)

    Hail Mogambo!

  3. Committing crimes against humanity is a bad thing.

    Abrahamic, do not taunt me!

    It was not a crime against humanity. It was an accident provoked by aliens from outer space using X-rays to mind control Hindus.

    In fact I have an investigation file from the RSS New Jersey Shakha (nobbly knees division Jackson Heights) which shows evidence that Abrahamics from Pakistan dressed up as Hindus and murdered Hindus in rioting to defame Vedic civilisation.

    In case you were not aware, the victims were Hindus too, they just did not know it, because all Abrahamics in India are Hindus who were converted at the point of a sword, they just don’t realise this, and must soon come back to the all tolerant Vedic fold or else we might get intolerant (which will be their fold for not obeying us)

    Therefore who killed the Hindus who were under the mistaken belief that they were Abrahamics?

    Only one possibility: Pakistan ISI in league with Arundhati Roy.

    Please help me find a way to persuade Harsh Mander before the American media finds out and starts claiming that we fragrant Vedics do not have the most tolerant civilisation in the history of civilisation!

    Hail Mogambo!

  4. Hail Mogambo!

    I must make a spelling correction:

    (which will be their fold for not obeying us)

    I meant to say:

    (which will be their FAULT for not obeying us)

    Which of course it will be their fault for not obeying us and provoking us.

    This malfeasance in my spelling must be attributed to Abrahamic influence. It worries me and makes me concerned over my children’s prospect in the California Spelling Bee.

    Abrahamics beware! Don’t try and stop my children from winning! We are respectable members of America most model Vedic minority unlike those other Abrahamics of terrorist origin.

    Hail Mogambo!

  5. rejecting Modi’s visa (asked for by the Indian government) on the grounds of egregious violator of religious freedom, while inviting Saudi king (crown prince) to the Whitehouse/Texas farm house smacks of double standards. Religious freedom is non-existant in Saudi. If a Muslim holds a bible in Saudi he could be beheaded, (last time there was a public beheading for this crime was in 1994, I think).. Even George Bush can’t take his bible to a public park there..

    Of course, Saudi has lots of oil and US depends on it.. And rejecting Modi’s visa could have scored some brownie(or whitie) points in the larger Muslim world for now..

    Important point to note is that US changes its policies with the change in govt. in India. Last time Vajpayee addressed the US congress, a hindu priest was asked to bless.. I don’t think it happened this time with Manmohan Singh.. In future, if Modi becomes the Prime Minister or the Home minister, I don’t think US will reject his visa that time..

  6. In future, if Modi becomes the Prime Minister or the Home minister, I don’t think US will reject his visa that time

    Please, don’t tease me! Just the thought of this great man becoming the leader of our nation gives me shivers of excitement!

    We’ll really show how civilized and tolerant our civilization is with him at the helm.

    Hail Mogambo!

  7. Spoorlam,

    Your infantile ranting is beyond ridiculous. If you think that is how the so-called Hindu right thinks, then I pity you. If you think you are trying to humor by spoofing, pleae take some pointers from ‘www.theonion.com’. It will do you some good.

    On the other hand, if your idea is to drive away people with an alternate to a left/pseudo-secularist viewpoint from posting their opinions, then we will go away. After all we are guests here and if the owners of the blog want to keep it pristine left, then off we go.

  8. In ancient Vedic systems, sense of humor was pristine.

    Pomposity and conceited self regard was unknown.

    We must recapture this glory.

    Rape by Abrahamics of our sense of humor has continued for too long.

    I have spent too long practising with my children for triumph in the California Spelling Bee.

    The victory shall be a triumph for Hindus and send shockwaves through the world – especially it will make Pakistan shit her pants.

    When my children win, it will be as though the invaders have been repelled and we will be reaffirmed as the uber-fragrant model minority without a blemish on our tolerance.

    Now I must loosen my underpants for light relief.

    Pomposity is unknown amongst Hindus.

    Any suggestion is caused by Arundhati Roy and Abrahamic conspiracy.

    We must control the history textbooks of California too – Spelling Bee is a strategy for this. Pretend we are checking the spelling as super-Hindus then change their lies and tell the truth of how we invented peace and tolerance and even poo-poo in ancient Vedic times did not smell.

    There is much to do so we can regain our glory. The master will advise by telephone.

    Hail Mogambo!

  9. On the other hand, if your idea is to drive away people with an alternate to a left/pseudo-secularist viewpoint from posting their opinions, then we will go away.

    Oh please! no need to be uber-sensitive, inspite of “satire” by the likes of SpoorLam. and really, all the “hindu right” here aren’t in your control, “we” wont just “go away”. (ok, i went overboard with the quotes there…)

  10. Oh please! no need to be uber-sensitive, inspite of “satire” by the likes of SpoorLam. and really, all the “hindu right” here aren’t in your control, “we” wont just “go away”.

    Please do not fight brothers. There is a long road ahead of us. We have massive challenges to face. We have a meeting with the Bakersfield kindergarten schools council. We have to let them know we are concerned at the depiction of Vedic system in history books read by 4-6 year olds in their jurisdiction. It is about time this rape against Hindus was revenged.

    In the meantime do not let Abrahamics to divide us with arguments.

    We must keep Hindu Unity.

    We have big evil to destroy.

    Wendy Doniger and Anjana Chaterjee are still out there, oppressing us.

    Be strong!

    Hail Mogambo!

  11. Only if it’s funny it’s all good.

    The future leader of the free world thinks it is funny.

    But I refuse laughter until my children have shitted on Pakistan by winning Spelling Bee. My boy failed on these words:

    Pompous

    Conceited

    Flatulent

    Joyless

    I said, don’t worry, these are Abrahamic words that cannot be used to describe true Vedic people or any of your Uncles so it is no wonder you cannot spell them.

    We must destroy the conspiracy of the California School Board against us!

    Hail Mogambo!

  12. Spoorlam, the essence of humor is knowing when to stop…and that point was several posts ago.

  13. Spoorlam, the essence of humor is knowing when to stop…and that point was several posts ago

    I am confused. In my encyclopedia it states many different essences of humor but not one of them refers to it being ‘knowing when to stop’.

    Are you trying to confuse me?

    Is this a conspiracy?

    Are you half-christian?

    Do you work for the California Schools Board?

    Hail Mogambo!

  14. The Spoorlam Prototype is 1/4 Evangelical missionary, 1/4 British imperialist, 1/4 Mujahideen, and 1/4 Wendy Doniger.

    It was invented in a lab and replicates by cell division, which is incited by any reference to Hindutva. It feeds on dead babies thrown into the Ganges by monstrous Hindoo mothers; it licks up the ashes of all the Hindoo women consumed in the flames of Suttee; it is programmed to spit out invective, including random Kipling poems like “Gunga Din,” tirades against the caste system, and below-the-belts about our second mother the cow whenever Relgious Uncle says something slightly far fetched about Indian Civilization. In short, its the Hindoo Terminator. Look upon its prowess ye Mighty, and despair!

  15. The Spoorlam Prototype is 1/4 Evangelical missionary, 1/4 British imperialist, 1/4 Mujahideen, and 1/4 Wendy Doniger

    Are you Muslim?

    You will be frightened when you see my thighs as I wear my khaki shorts so do not mock me.

    We invented fire sixty eight thousand years ago.

    Death to Anjana Chaterjee.

    Hail Mogambo!

  16. Ms Fink Nottle

    your people have been left with no options at all and you see no future for your children, when all the power is in the hands of a certain group that is bent upon reducing you to a second-class status and creating a really apartheid sort of society
    there are so many differences between the KKK/Nazis and Hamas that I am not going to even begin to elaborate on that…to make these parallels is to evoke an emotional response that obscures real issues and *important* differences.

    How do u reconcile these two statements? Are there not so many differences between Israel and Aparthied that one cannot even begin to elaborate. Does not making this parallel evoke an emotional response that obsures real issues and important differences.

    BTW, my real position is that your analogy does bring up a real issue… as does mine. But you see how difficult it is to be consistent? “anti-semitism” is not the only term thrown around too much.

  17. A M for D

    1) Modi is a private citizen now and not a sovereign. The FOREIGN SOVEREIGN IMMUNITIES ACT does not apply to Modi. (2) Modi is not being subject to criminal liablities. ATS only covers tort (civil liabilities)

    Again going in circles – Modi has never been a private citizen since before Godhra and his acts that people are accusing him are of acts of omission. There is no proof that he ordered the mobs. If you can show that this falls under the acts of a private citizen under the act you quote, I will apologize for wasting the time of the people here.

    I well know it is civil liabilities, but what are you going to attach? Modi obviously doesn’t have any property or assets in the US. The Indian govt will not attach assets as it opens Indian citizens to foreign jurisdiction.

    (5) Ariel Sharon from Israel was indicted on a Court in Belgium and Kissinger does not go to Europe for the same reason. Committing crimes against humanity is a bad thing.

    Kissinger is currently a private citizen. But there are two things – 1) he doesn’t have the need to go to Europe as at his age he is not interested in being a tourist and can’t be because of his notoriety and most of the business for Kissinger & Associates comes from the US, China, India and middle east/latin states. He has been regularly visiting these places. 2) The US has warned Europe about prosecuting Kissinger for his acts as Sec. of State.

    Meerut, Bhagalpur, Surat, Bombay and Gujarat and Delhi were the big sectarian riots in India

    The examples you quote actually strenghten what I am saying. All these happened under the Congress or the left/secular parties.

    And for the true story of Harsh Mander’s resignation here is the link with all the gory details:

    http://www.vigilonline.com/news/whats_new/news_view.asp?plainSpeakId=35

    This is my last post on this subject. I will retire for the evening to have my 18yr Macallan single malt. Red wine is so passe’ and feminine.

  18. I forgot to add the obligatory Spoorlam stuff.

    Here it is:

    I said, don’t worry, these are Abrahamic words that cannot be used to describe true Vedic people or any of your Uncles so it is no wonder you cannot spell them.

    We must destroy the conspiracy of the California School Board against us!

    Hail Mogambo!

  19. HIndutvavadi in Ca:

    Hey, I am a desi, right-wing Hindu guy.
    I will retire for the evening to have my 18yr Macallan single malt

    Sure, drinking an 18yr Macallan single malt is very Hindu.

  20. I forgot to add the obligatory Spoorlam stuff.

    Thank you fellow Hindu Righter.

    We must infiltrate the Californian School Board and ensure the visa to our future leader. Keep taunting these pinko hypocrites on Pseudo Secular Mutiny. They must be grandchildren of Romila Thapar.

    Hail Mogambo!

  21. Where the hell is the SM Intern when he/she is needed the most?

    Probably laughing his/her/its ass off at how funny SpoorLam is :)

    Hail Mogambo!

  22. I stumbled into this confused and rambling (because of how far you stray from the topic) thread in my search to figure out what EXACTLY had happened to Ms. MIA…

    And I laughed my gedunk-a-dunk off.

    Did it occur to any of you high and mighty literary quoting, citizenship establishing, politically minded folks that the whole point of becoming a pop-icon who speaks about global/transnational/cival war issues she was raised around is to provoke discussions exactly like yours? Hmm…food for thought. And you were looking down on her for her spelling, when in reality she’d already sunk into your subconciousnesses (borders, crossing, identity, nationalism, war, terror, communication).

  23. Did it occur to any of you high and mighty literary quoting, citizenship establishing, politically minded folks that the whole point of becoming a pop-icon who speaks about global/transnational/cival war issues she was raised around is to provoke discussions exactly like yours?

    no, that had never occurred to us! thanks for the insight!

  24. I stumbled into this confused and rambling (because of how far you stray from the topic) thread

    and

    (borders, crossing, identity, nationalism, war, terror, communication).

    Speaking of rambling…

  25. I don’t think that Radovan Karadzic or Ratko Mladic are war criminals at all. I invite everyone to view some of the evidence in my possession about it at my blog site. I think it is easily proven that the CIA and Richard Holbrook are the Balkan War culprits.

    Respectfully Yours,

    Jill Starr

    #

    What It’s Like to Chill with the Most Ruthless Men in the World

    Ratko Mladic and Radovan Karadzic: Confessions of a Female War Crimes Investigator

    Retrospectively, it was all so simple, natural and matter of fact being on a boat restaurant in Belgrade, sitting with, laughing, drinking a two hundred bottle of wine and chatting about war and peace while Ratko Mladic held my hand.  Mladic,  a man considered the world’s most ruthless war criminal since Adolf Hitler, still at large and currently having a five million dollar bounty on his head for genocide by the international community.  Yet there I was with my two best friends at the time, a former Serbian diplomat, his wife, and Ratko Mladic just chilling.  There was no security, nothing you’d ordinarily expect in such circumstances.  Referring to himself merely as, Sharko; this is the story of it all came about.
    
    It all began as former United States President Bill Clinton spearheaded NATO’s war against Serbia, Montenegro and Slobodan Milosevic (March 1999).  Thirty-five years old, conducting graduate study work at the New School for Social Research in New York City in political science,  I planned graduating spring 1999 with an area study emphasis in international law and human rights.  I was naïve then, still believing strongly in democratic liberal concepts such as freedom of academic thought.  Hence, I never anticipated my political views would impede either my graduation or completing my master’s thesis work on whether NATO member states committed gross violations of customarily accepted international criminal law in launching military aggression against Serbia and Montenegro owing to not acquiring United Nations Security Counsel approval prior.
    
    Then as hit with the identical smart bomb dropped on Milosevic’s presidential palace in Serbia the night of April 22nd 1999, political science chairperson then at the New School, Professor David Plotke, summoned me into his office before class that evening and dismissed me from the master’s program at the New School owing to what he considered my possessing unsavory political science opinions.  
    
    
    Only having to complete two more classes to graduate, I always thought my future in political sciences as wide open with innumerous possibilities; unfortunately this proved untrue.  Plotke told me in no uncertain terms that I was not the type of person the New School wanted walking around with a degree stating the New School’s prestigious name on it.
    
    Ironically, the New School was an institution I attended only owing to its’ placing great pride and emphasis on allowing students complete academic freedom of thought without dictating what is and what is not politically correct to discuss.  Yet surprisingly, dismissal from the program and blow to my graduate work should not been completely unexpected since the semester immediately prior, the school refused allowing me to conduct my graduate thesis work on the subject of whether the NATO and Bill Clinton committed war crimes against the former Yugoslavia during the Kosovo war (1999) and internally suggested I write about infringement of Muslim human rights in France.  I suppose with the likes of Hillary Clinton and Tony Blair hanging about the fourth floor of the school at the renown World Policy Institute in 1999, I should have expected the university would not take kindly to student‘s speaking out critically against Bill Clinton and the Kosovo war (1999) he went down in history for advocating.  Then again, in 1999 I still believed in the school’s core ideals of academic freedom, especially since I was paying no less than one thousand United States dollars a credit to attend.  My civil rights lawsuit against the college is another story in and of itself not deserving extended amounts of space here, except what I already mentioned. 
    
    Dismissal from graduate school left me in a complete state of  scholarly anomie seeking empathy and solace from my few friends and confidants at the time including many diplomats I studied with at the New School for several years.  The list included  but was not limited to ambassadors from Iran, Oman and a newly appointed First Secretary of the Bosnian Mission to the United Nations in New York, Darko Trifunovic.  
    
    
    
    
    Noteworthy of mentioning, both the ambassadors from Iran and Oman both confided in me their own extreme dissatisfactions and the scholarly problems they themselves currently encountered at the New School for Social Research.  On the last day attending the school, both aforementioned men explicitly complained to me the school was holding them back from graduating owing to their own so-called extremely unsavory political viewpoints.  In particular the Iranian ambassador, Amir, was writing his master’s thesis on the Iranian contra affair and the man from Oman told me for years he was being held back from graduating because Greek Professor Addie Pollis strongly disdained his Islamic religious and cultural views insofar as human rights and multiple marriage partners by Muslim sultans in his country of origin.  It was May (1999).
    
    Riddled with uncertainty about my future scholarly status, I immediately applied for graduate study at Farleigh Dickinson University in New Jersey where I studied an additional two years before encountering similar problems with the graduate school faculty there.  Ironically it was only FDU professors whom formerly studied themselves at the New School still in touch with the faculty there, who were later responsible for my having to leave the graduate program at FDU in early 2002.  
    
    Between the time of my dismissal from the New School and my dismissal from FDU the fall (2002), I stayed in touch with many scholars and other politically active persons sharing similar anti-war views as myself regarding NATO’s 1999 Kosovo war including: Professor Barry Lituchy (NYC), Ramsey Clark’s people at the International Action Center, and a couple of new acquaintances I’ve chanced meet online in Serbian political activist forums.  One of those people was, Darko Trifunovic. 
    
    Darko and I were e-mailing each other regularly by early spring (1999) at which time he informed me that he became the newly appointed First Secretary of the Bosnian Mission to the United Nations in New York City and wondered whether I would pick him up at JFK airport when he arrives in a few weeks;  I acceded.  Darko arrived first, his very beautiful wife, Bojana, arrived as expected about one month later after he was settled.
    Darko greatly impressed me at the time.  Being a former political advisor to the to the former female President of the Republic of Srpska in Bosnia, he had a degree in international law, diplomatic immunity, was a writer, handsome, and fun to just hang-out with and work.  The three of us became extremely close friends and confidants. I even became voted in as the executive director of the Law Projects Center Yugoslavia in New York .  The Law Projects Center was a United Nations accredited NGO and offshoot of the Yugoslav Coalition to Establish and international criminal court.  Darko and some political people originally founded the organization in Belgrade Serbia prior his arrival in New York City in diplomatic capacity.  I worked fervently legally registering the organization  in New Jersey as a legally filed non-profit successfully.  The Law Projects Center and its activities demanded Darko, his wife and I often stayed the night over each others’ apartments often; many times working days at a time with very little sleep.
    
    From winter (1999) until fall (2002), Darko, his wife and I worked daily at the Bosnian Mission to the United Nations in New York City co-authoring two books: 1) The Bosnian Model of Al-Qaeda Terrorism and; 2) The Srebrenica Massacre.  As a young student of war and peace in the former Yugoslavia, I was in scholarly heaven accessing the United Nations to work with Darko daily.  This enabled my meeting many of the most fascinating people in the world.  I vividly remember Senator Bill Richardson at the time giving nightly press interviews on television about meeting with OPEC members states, “setting them straight about lowering oil prices in 2000.”  Yet when I’d chit-chat with the Iranian ambassador in the city before class asking him about it he would say to me something to the effect as,” We at OPEC are so angry about former  colonialism by England and America, OPEC will continually attempt bringing both the United States and England to their financial knees on  energy issues…And by the way Jill, Russia does not in any manner intend to halt weapon sales to Iran.”  
    
    
    
    
    
    
    In fact Amir and I, notwithstanding our theological differences, got alone well.  We’d often sit together before class acceding on a great many matters.  In particular I remember us sitting one night and looking me square in the eye stating, “You know Jill, I will never believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God.”  I replied, “And I Amir will never convert to Islam.” Now that we got that out of the way, we both smiled at one another getting  down to discussing real issues.
    
    The Bosnian mission to the United Nations in New York City in 2001 was an extremely interesting place.  Reflecting the rotating ethnic presidency existing in Bosnia unto present, Mission employees were comprised of people of completely bipolar ethnic, theological and politically ideological viewpoints.  The Head Ambassador of the Mission post 9-11 was then combating rumors of his soon becoming persona non grata in the United States for allegedly giving Osama Bin Laden a visa to travel through Bosnia illegally when previously stationed in Italy in 1993.  There were also rumors he confessed to the United States Department of State of running international arms trades in connection with Al-Qaeda.  The number two man at the Bosnian mission, the First Ambassador was Serbian, Orthodox Christian and a doctor of medicine by university degree.  The First Secretary of the Mission was my friend Darko, the Consulate department was headed by an ethnic Muslim lady from Bosnia, and there was an ethnic Croatian woman floating around with other various diplomats being of Roman Catholic Croatian descent. 
    
    My time at the Mission was primarily spent fixing Darko’s laptop computer which became daily infected with computer viruses he continually claimed emanated from other employees at the Mission who were allegedly trying to sabotage him because of his ethnic Serbian background.  I vividly recall the constant bickering between all the mission employees; always accusing each other of committing war crimes and giving each other computer viruses making it virtually impossible for any of them to get along.  The Croatian diplomat usually stayed to herself with her office door shut while the others present usually just listened to Led Zeppelin rock music on their personal CD-ROM players.  They told me repeatedly they had nothing else to do with their time at the United Nations beyond an occasional meeting except for  listening to music and playing computer games.  
    Sad and ironic was the few things I noticed all the Bosnian mission employees agreeing upon was their undying love for the rock band, Led Zeppelin. 
    
    A year had come and gone while I totally immersed myself into political inquiry as to just who was guilty of committing war crimes in the former Yugoslavia.  My favorite subjects of inquiry included: NATO, Kosovo & Metohia, Serbia, Montenegro, Bosnia and persons of interest such as Mladic and Hacim Thaci (Albanian Leader of the Kosovo Liberation Army).  It was not enough for my merely taking in nightly news reports from CNN and other mainstream American media; to conduct an investigation for inquiry of social fact, I needed to go to Serbia and investigate for myself. 
    
    Only after seeing firsthand the goings on in the Balkans could I make a discriminate determination of guilty parties insofar as genocide there.   After my fateful month long trip to Serbia and Montenegro in the fall 2002 I later concluded all warring parties involved had blood on their hands (Croats, Serbs, Muslims and the NATO); there are no innocents.  But in 2001, neither my finances nor busy schedule allowed such a trip.  Moreover, not speaking fluent Serbian coupled with the  anti-American sentiment existing in Serbia then listed on the United States Department of State travel warning website caused going to there an unfeasible option.  Hence, my life and studies went on as usual.
    
    Several seasons went by and now it was spring 2001.  Darko and his wife Bojana had time off which they spent visiting friends and family in Serbia for about two weeks.  Because of this Darko was unable to function in full diplomatic capacity.  In spring 2001 there was a preparatory commission meeting of plenipotentiaries to establish an international criminal court at the United Nations in New York City.  Topics of the meeting included but were not limited to defining interstate acts of aggression, court financing etc..  Darko asked me if I would sit in for him at the meeting taking as many notes possible owing to the Law Projects Center possessing United Nations accreditation as a NGO (non governmental organization) with full observer status at the United Nations;  I acceded.
    
    
    Darko faxed me all necessary paperwork enabling my application attendance at this crucial meeting; I filled out the necessary forms and faxed them to the appropriate United Nations office for approval.  It was an extremely exciting time for me.  My close friend and colleague, Arnold Stark (History professor and Columbian University PhD) drove me into Manhattan walking me through the United Nations main entrance and security the day of attendance.  Professor Stark himself was an old foreign service man from way back in the day and he told me I never looked as professionally sharp as I did on that day; I wore a navy blue pin striped suit.  I must admit, I looked good.  
    
    Only post attending that day did I truly understand the total lapse of  security existing then at the United Nations in New York City.  I say this owing to the social fact that the Law Projects Center was indeed registered as an United nations accredited NGO it is true.  However, closed meetings of this sort meant attendance was strictly limited to head ambassadors of valid United Nations member state missions and non governmental organizations possessing observer status were not allowed.
    
    Unto present, I’ve yet understood whereby I gained entrance into this privy closed meeting consisting of only United Nations  ambassadors, but I did.  Walking to the basement floor of the United Nations building that day, I merely wore a visitors badge given to me at the front desk in no manner indicating that I was an ambassador of a United Nations mission;  least of all the Bosnia mission as required for entrance.  Totally unaware I didn’t possess necessary credentials to enter the meeting, I walked confidently towards the entrance door and past the guard stationed outside it.  The guard never bothering to  examine the type of badge I wore around my neck simply said “good day Madame” and urged me into the meeting; it was just about time to begin.
    
    I immediately sensed something wrong once through the door past the guard.  First, I was uncertain where to sit.  Everyone else had a sign in front of their seat stating their country of origin. The Israeli ambassador sat in front of the Israel sign, the Spanish lady sat in front of the seat indicating she represented, Spain etc..  
    
    I looked fervently around the room seeing no seats indicating seats for United Nations observers anywhere.  The last thing I wanted to do was to embarrass myself by taking the seat of an important ambassador; I noticed a couple of men seeming from some African state grabbing some meeting paperwork nearby so I inquired of them. I told them I was a newbie and inquired where to sit and what I should do.  With heavy African accents one of them said, “just grab a bunch of these papers, sit there and look like you are busy,” so I did.  In fact, I grabbed as many extra copies as I could without looking conspicuous when noticing another peculiarity.  
    
    The meeting papers indicated they were for restricted for the eyes of state mission heads’ only (chief ambassadors of countries) and allowing other persons and/or United Nations employees to view them was a punishable offense.  Uncertain what to do, and with the meeting beginning, I merely sat there stunned.  My seat and the one the African gentleman next to me took seemed extras because they neglected having any indication regarding country origin in front of them on the table; I felt safe.  
    
    As totally immersed and interesting as I found the topics, the African ambassador seated found boring.  I say this owing to noticing during the entire meeting he was merely doodling nonsensical pictures on some legal pad.  I think that no one took more notes that day than me.  I was especially interested in the interstate bickering about financing the international criminal court should and when it came about.  Spain was particularly forceful in vocalizing its opinion that the countries giving the most monetary contributions to the court itself ought have more power over both its staffing and its innocent and guilty verdicts as well as judges appointed.  My suspicions’ equally shared by scholars such as Noam Chomsky and former attorney general, Ramsey Clark were now fully justifiably confirmed.  The court itself was a great travesty of justice and I was actually witnessing quarrels between countries insofar as controlling the courts judges and verdicts based on financial contributions rather than on law and true international justice.   
    
    
    
    The most shocking point of the meeting for me was when the Israeli ambassador admitted openly to the other attendees that Israel was indifferent to war crimes, crimes against humanity and would in no manner support any international structure limiting its’ ability for practicing war and peace against any other state and/or party it considered a threat to its national interest.  The ambassador representing the United States that day strongly and equally explicitly backed the Israeli position making clear American attendance was more for information gathering purposes and show than true concern for international law, world peace and social justice.  When the meeting ended I slipped quickly out the front entrance of the United Nations; notes and papers in hand; I would read them in detail later that evening.  
    
    It must have amazed Darko upon returning from Serbia I actually gained entrance to the ICC preparatory closed meeting because within a week he invited me to the city to attend another important meeting at the United Nations comprised of diplomats from some very selective and prestigious  NATO member states.  I don’t recall the date but by his return fully I understood the definition of a closed meeting.  Upon approaching the meeting door I became at once  cognizant the meeting stated  “closed meeting,” on the door.  I did my best to point this fact out to Darko who told me to go in with him anyway; we did.  Darko obviously thought because I gained entrance to the ICC meeting I ought not have in his absence, perhaps if I were with him, he covertly could gain access this closed NATO meeting; no dice.  Upon entering the room, immediately some important looking man called him over and diplomatically informed him that “Serbia was not invited.”  Darko pointed to me explaining that he was with the American lady but he was asked politely to leave; I followed him out the door embarrassed.  
    
    The following year was mundane.  Filled with activities like shuttling back and forth to FDU for graduate school, fund raising for the Law Projects Center and co-authoring two book with Darko.  The fateful day of 9/11 and the attacks by Al-Qaeda on the World Trade Center Towers in New York City changed my venue forever.  Post 9/11 Darko became a man on a personal mission seemingly unrelated to the Bosnian mission itself. 
    He told me it was the utmost importance to publicize the alleged fact that the head ambassador of the Bosnian mission was in his estimation involved with Al-Qaeda.  Darko had a seemingly ton of secret documentary evidence emanating from the ministry of internal affairs in Belgrade and Bosnia seeming true bolstering his allegations in my eyes then.
    
    Asking me to fervently work on editing a book on which topic was meant for exposing the head ambassador of the Bosnian mission at that time; I acceded.  The publication was later published by the Repubika Srpska information agency in Bosnia.  The Serbian government in the Republika Srpska in Bosnia then was seriously pressing Darko for a fast publication so we stayed up many nights over his apartment in Forest Hills, New York working to do so.  The book was entitled, ”The Bosnia Model of Al-Qaeda Terrorism.  It can probably still be found and read online.  Last time I checked it was posted on the website: http://www.analyst-network.com/profile.php?user_id=240.
    
        Darko always told me I possessed full rights to this and  other publications we worked on together.  Although I edited and co-authoring the Al-Qaeda work, a few years back I noticed Darko removed my name on the inner front cover page as editor replacing it with the name of a Serbian editor.  When questioned about it Darko told me he kept my name from being published because of the death threats and dangers to my life that he himself encountered because of its publication.  I do vividly remember Darko receiving a great many death threats and threats towards his wife at the time, Bojana, so it is possible he was telling me the truth. 
    
    Even prior completing our work on the Al-Qaeda book together Darko was obsessed with manifesting the Bosnian Chief ambassador at the time as a terrorist.  At the time I had no reason to doubt Darko’s word and assisted him in rabidly writing an open letter to all the United Nations member state missions exposing him as such.  I surmise this is when Darko’s job at the United Nations as First Secretary of the Bosnian mission became jeopardized.
    
    
    
    Today I surmise Darko’s employment at the United Nations genuinely became compromised owing not only to the inter-ethnic conflicts existing between him and the head ambassador then, a proud Muslim man, but also owing to the fact he forged birth certificates to acquire his position in the first place later becoming a social fact from the interior ministry in Bosnia.  It was an emotional shock when Darko informed me a by summer 2001 that he lost his job and he and Bojana had to immediately return to Belgrade to work out the matter in court.  This was also a great emotional blow to me also owing to the fact that I always possessed a crush on Darko and he knew it.  This was a social fact I never publicly admitted previously to writing this book.  I once even asked Darko if he wanted to have an affair with me but he declined stating he would never be unfaithful to his beautiful wife, Bojana.  This left me in an extreme morally uncomfortable position because Bojana was my best friend.  I continually told myself being attracted to her husband Darko was a non-option.  Working so closely with him on an almost daily basis however made my attraction to him difficult to overcome.  
    
    I was also engaged to Professor Arnold Stark at the time and wore the ten thousand diamond ring he bought me on my finger. Arnold became increasingly jealous of Darko in time and eventually forbid me to work with him altogether. Notwithstanding, I continued working with Darko against Arnold’s wishes.  This coupled with my trip to Serbia and Montenegro in 2002 eventually led to my breakup with Professor Stark and after almost an entire decade, my relationship with Arnold never fully recovered.
    
    Darko tried keeping his job in diplomatic capacity at he UN as long as possible but the bipolar friction and hate existing between himself and the chief ambassador at the mission proved too much.  The chief ambassador in contact with the Bosnian government at the time in Sarajevo eventually had Darko dismissed as first secretary of the mission.  To the best of my recollection Darko was no longer receiving a monthly salary from Sarajevo by spring or summer 2002 (approximately).  
    
    
    
    I often came visiting Darko and Bojana’s  apartment in Manhattan then situated on a side street within walking distance from the UN to help them out financially by buying them inexpensive dinners and such in Manhattan and chauffeuring  them around (they did not own a car for the majority of their stay in the States).  
    
    In July 2002 as I remember the three of us spent many memorable moments going to the beaches outside the city and just spending time talking etc..  At the time and owing to my being in graduate school at FDU, I had plenty of extra money to burn owing my taking the maximum GSL student loans totaling about twenty thousand dollars a semester.  Then one day that summer Darko informed me he and Bojana were only awaiting the Bosnian government to wire them a sum of five thousand dollars to pay off their American bills, last month rent and they would make a hasty exit back to Belgrade permanently.  I was emotionally crushed. 
    
    Desperate not to lose contact with Darko because of my personal feelings towards him, I told him my summer classes at FDU were about to end August 2002 and although the fall semester was about to begin, I wanted to visit him in Serbia as soon as possible.  Soon for me meant as soon as I received a check from the United States government for the total of that semesters’ student loan money in the amount of about ten thousand dollars.
    
    Darko, hesitant at first soon gave in to my constant petitions to visit him.  The day I brought them both to JFK to return to Serbia permanently, Bojana whispered something in Darko’s ear as we hugged saying our goodbyes all three of trying to hold back tears of parting and Darko looking me in the eye said something to the effect, “Jill, don’t worry as soon as you can afford it call me and we’ll arrange your visit.” Darko never could stand to see me cry which on many occasion I did owing to the loss of my two children and other personal challenges in my life.  They turned and boarded their plane to Belgrade as I drove back to New Jersey.  Driving home I felt an odd combination of extreme sadness at the loss of my two best friends mixed with the cheerful prospect I would shortly be boarding a plane myself destined for Serbia and Montenegro by mid August 2002 when my student loan check arrived.  
    Upon arriving home I immediately began making all necessary arrangements for my forthcoming trip. 
    
    The day following Darko ‘s departure, I bought a great many  prepaid phone cards for the purpose of calling him owing to both my missing him and also my primarily wanting to began making all necessary arrangements facilitating my forthcoming visit from JFK to Beograd.  I had countless questions such as: how much money will I need, how will I obtain a VISA being an American citizen with all the US State Department warnings against US citizenry traveling to the region, etc., etc., etc..  I had already obtained a valid United States passport many years ago which I always carried with me.  I’ve always held the strong opinion that having a valid passport with you at all times is just a good idea.  It enables one the necessary freedom to go to the airport and catch a plane going anywhere at anytime. 
    
        Darko told me that I need not worry about all the complicated VISA requirements listed on Serbian government website required of other Americans  that he would handle everything.  I was told merely to bring with me about five thousand United States dollars in cash spending money and it was a done deal.  I went to buy some new suitcases and clothes for my trip in Wayne, New Jersey during the first two weeks in August 2002 in preparation.  Packing was always a problem for me as Darko can attest to owing to my medically diagnosed attention deficit disorder.  I had a difficult time deciding what to bring, so I tried to bring everything I thought I needed.  The day of my departure my suitcases weighed way over the weight limit restrictions indicated by the airline.
    
    Getting to JFK for departure in mid August 2002 proved to be an almost insurmountable task in and of itself owing to my heavy luggage and everyone I asked to drop me at the airport that day had strongly held views against my going.  Arnold Stark declined to bring me owing to his personal jealousies insofar as Darko and everyone else had one or another excuse rooted in the anti-American sentiment in Serbia at that time and danger involved.  
    
    
    
    Undeterred, I finally convinced Archbishop John LoBue, my priest and confessor at the Holy Name Orthodox Christian Church in West Milford, New Jersey to take me as far as the Port Authority in Manhattan; from there I took a bus to JFK managing myself.
    
    Post 9/11, JFK was supposedly safe beyond reproach insofar as security; this proved untrue.  I had not traveled outside America in many years so I was unfamiliar with the new travel restrictions on such items as nail scissors etc., being illegal to bring onboard flights and carried several very sharp ones right passed JFK security inspection inside my purse on board out of my own ignorance of new flight rules.  It was not until I arrived on my stopover in Paris, France that I was boarding onto a JAT (Yugoslav Air Travel) flight for Belgrade that the security officer of JAT told me that he had to confiscate the aforementioned items owing to new security precautions implemented post 9/11. 
    
    I informed him upon boarding my initial flight at JFK in New York, the security guards at the gate allowed me to board my flight to Paris carrying them in my purse.  The JAT security employee merely shook his head in amazement mentioning something insofar as his seriously questioning American security in general stating that Jugosalv Air Travel obviously took airline and passenger security much more seriously.  
    
    I loved flying JAT!  Not only was I completely satisfied the flight from Paris to Belgrade was many times more secure since JAT searched boarding passengers more thoroughly than JFK, the hospitality, food and drink was excellent.  I say this owing to my being a well seasoned traveler having previously visited places such as Indonesia, Thailand and Hong Kong, etc..  It was extremely laid back on the flight.  People moved around switching seats and chatting with good friends and the  food was the best!  My favorite Serbian food and drink were served and all airline employees shoed me the highest level of hospitality.  I was extremely pleased with the professionalism and service on JAT I later began an online blog about it on Yahoo360.
    
    
    
    Upon my flight arriving in Beograd, all passengers left the plane in the usual manner except Serbian citizens were shuffled through customs quickly merely showing their passport.  All others including myself were asked to relinquish their passports and told to wait an unspecified amount of time in a holding area at the airport.  An airport security officer went around confiscating our passports afterward leaving us merely standing there not knowing what to expect next.  No other announcements were made; I did the only thing possible I relinquished my passport to the Serbian custom official along with the other western Europeans and/or Americans (if there were any) which I surmised like myself were attempting to enter Serbia from countries that were NATO allies in the Kosovo war against Slobodan Milosevic in 1999.  There must have been about twenty persons with me just waiting. 
    
    All types of nagging thoughts plagued me such as “perhaps my friends were correct that I ought not have taken this trip…was it really too dangerous to travel to Serbia with all the anti-American sentiment and what would happen if Serbian customs decided I was an American spy, kept my passport and I ended in some unknown jail and/or murdered….who would find me…what could I do about it etc., etc., etc..”
    
    It seemed nearly an hour passed; me and the others were still standing there waiting.  I didn’t want to seem scared or overly curious by asking either Serbian custom officials or anyone else waiting with me anything as to not cause unnecessary attention to myself.  I also kept checking my watch wondering if Darko knew I was here waiting.  I had hoped with his government connections he would at least inquire about my arrival since he told me he would pick me up.  I drew comfort from the fact Darko was always very punctual picking up and bringing himself and others to airports.  On numerous occasions I gave him and others rides to and from them.  These and other thoughts plagued me when suddenly I heard a voice on the loud speaker call my name, Jill Starr, asking me to go to a customs area to claim my passport.  I was the first person called so I don’t know what happened to the others standing there still waiting.  I hurriedly went to obtain my passport and was told that I cleared; the guard pointed the direction for me to go claim my luggage.  You have no idea what a relief that was!
    
    I took in my new surroundings pleased that I made it into the country successfully.  As a young child my father took me with him traveling the world when he was an active nuclear engineering consultant for Chas T Main, USAID and the IMF.  I had been in Indonesia during the turmoil in East Timor so I was used to being in war zones surrounded by soldiers with guns.  I was presently older, but still I found such travel extremely exciting more than dangerous and looked forward to enjoying the rest of my vacation with Darko and Bojana.       
    
    Making it to the baggage claim area successfully I was relieved seeing Darko standing their waiting for me.  I was not fluent in Serbian and didn‘t want to publicize it by asking people questions in English manifesting I was American.  I hurried to him giving him a large hug.
    
    I was so glad to see Darko.  I noticed upon my arrival at the Belgrade airport that there were many female police officers equipped with guns wearing short mini skirts and extremely high heels.  I asked Darko how they apprehended criminals in such high heels and he replied smirking that they don’t have to run, they merely shot those not halting in the back and that stopped them.
    
    Like a dream come true, there I was in Beograd Serbia against all odds and complaints from my friends.  Darko helped me get my luggage to his friend’s vehicle telling me we could talk about everything I had to say later because we had to hurry.  Darko‘s friend, a German man living in Serbia for years and an important military employee of the Serbian government in a grayish older large SUV vehicle with what seemed a special license plate was impatiently waiting at the front gate of the airport for us.  Darko’s friend did not speak fluent English but he did speak fluent German and Serbian. Darko told him to help lift my luggage into the trunk in Serbian and he did.  Darko always liked to brag and as usual he introduced me to his friend giving me the details of his being an important man in the Serbian military etc.. We went straight from the Beograd airport to the home of Bojana’s family in the suburbs of Belgrade and all became reacquainted. 
    
    Bojana and I hugged; she introduced me to her family (father, mother and brother who was a high school student in Beograd).  
    Afterward, Darko showed me the room upstairs where I would sleep which was actually Bojana’s room also informing me of our three week itinerary; he had it all planned out.  Darko told me we would all spend the night over Bojana’s house, the next day sleep at his apartment outside Beograd and later explained the next day we would stop at his father’s family’s house for dinner and leave from there making our way into Montenegro for a ten day vacation staying at his friend’s resort on Budva’s seaside coast.  Along the way Darko told me he would give me the best tour I could ask for and he did.  He showed me military installations and one of my favorite stops was the NATO bombed Chinese embassy which I stood in front of only several yards from.  
    
    My night at Bojana’s residence was wonderful. I was never showed as much love and hospitality as I did from her family. Although it was late in the evening (about 11pm Serbian time) when we arrived, Bojana’s mother, a wonderful woman, treated me as her own daughter.  She insisted that Darko, Bojana and I enjoy what seemed a 10 course home cooked meal.  She was still cooking while she served us a variety of cooked steaks, vegetables and pastries. And like many Italian families she insisted I tried and ate everything.  To top the night off before bed Bojana and her father performed an accordion duet live in the kitchen for me.  Apparently, Bojana and her father were professional accordion players and Bojana explained that her father’s employment consisted of playing nightly in a local bar. Thereafter, we went to bed with full stomachs.
    
    The next morning we all enjoyed an equally exquisite breakfast.  Bojana’s family had livestock in the backyard and her mother cooked us a fresh eggs and steak for breakfast like never before experienced. We said our parting goodbyes and left for Darko’s apartment in the hills of Beograd.  We brought my suitcases in and upon entering I noticed there were lots of stray dogs around the apartment entrance.  One in particular was very cute and Darko explained that the various residents fed it because it was so adorable.  I found it interesting that so many old men were just hanging about the entrance to the apartment building drinking and just sitting there with seemingly nothing to do.  They remained there throughout my entire trip. 
    
    Even when Ratko Mladic came to see me on my final day in Serbia in full military regalia giving me a parting gift (a book he inscribed to me entitled Serbija) while Darko took pictures of Mladic with his arm around me, the men remained there merely looking like old bums. Retrospectively, I wonder if they weren’t some watchmen and/or guards. Unto this day I always wondered what Darko did with those photos.
    
    I was surprised what a very large apartment Darko owned.  He showed me into his guest room and I unpacked my suitcases in just enough time to inform me I was to consolidate all my truly necessary items for Montenegro into one small bag that would reasonably fit into his trunk in the morning because he needed enough room for his and Bojana’s luggage also.  He laughed at all the things I brought with me to Beograd telling me that I had no idea how to pack.  
    
    By the time I was done with that task Darko told me it was time to go meet some friends at a local café for coffee.  It was late summer and the outside café’s in Beograd were the best !  We met up with a few friends in some restaurant in Beograd; there was about five of us sitting there just chatting and drinking coffee when I noticed an older gentleman sitting a few seats down with feathered salt and pepper colored hair not saying much except for an occasional laugh and nod at us.  I wondered wherefore Darko a man about thirty would associate with such an older person, as for me being several years older than Darko, I thought to myself, what a cute guy.  Then upon closer inspection, I realized it was doctor Radovan Karadzic.  I knew he was a psychiatrist.  By no means was this to be our last meeting.  Throughout the time I spent in Serbia Darko met with Karadzic on many occasions in Beograd.  The meetings were usually brief; only to exchange oral information and/or a few papers with Darko and whisper something or other in Darko‘s ear.   He looks as the news media portrays him dressed in his gray wrinkled suit and tie and salt and pepper colored hair.  He was a perfect gentleman all times I met him with Darko. After finishing our coffee, Darko said we ought leave and get a good nights rest because we had to leave early the next day for Montenegro.
    
    
    
    The next morning we all got into Darko’s blue Audi (car) and left for his Father’s house.  I remember arguing with Darko about wanting to bring lots of luggage with me and he replied I didn’t need all that stuff and I could only bring one normal sized bag with me and I had to leave the rest of my things at his apartment; I did. On the way to his father’s, Darko made a few important stops for the purpose of giving me the grand tour. We only stopped briefly at some military installations; we didn’t get out of the car.  We drove up to the gates and Darko pointed out, “look Jill, this is an important military facility.”  Darko always sarcastically smirked as he pointed out these places to me.  The only place we got out was in front of the bombed out Chinese embassy in Beograd.  There were Serbian military officers in front of the embassy.  I was amazed owing to I always had thought bombed out buildings were totally demolished.  But standing in front of the Chinese embassy that was bombed by the NATO in 1999 taught me the definition of a “smart bomb.” 
    
    
    Only the portion of the building hosting the embassy employees on the upper level of the building itself was demolished and in particular the window where the Chinese embassy officials worked.  I could see in the window and I even got a sad glimpse of the Victorian styled chair sitting there empty in the bombed out window.  I wondered who used to sit there and if they were dead or alive. No other parts of the building was seriously damaged.  There were even flowers and trees still growing untouched in front of the building.  I strongly believe that NATO knew exactly what they aimed at when they bombed the building.  
    
    I brought a digital camera with me on my trip but upon returning to the United States, all the film Darko claimed to snap for me was returned by my local film developer as blank.  I wondered if Darko told me the truth about snapping photos for me at all.  Throughout my trip he insisted on taking all the photos I wanted claiming I take poor pictures.  It since crossed my mind he may have removed the film from my camera prior my departing Serbia so I could not take it back with me.  One thing I am sure of  is both Darko and Bojana refused having any photos taken of them throughout my entire stay.
    
    After leaving the scene at the Chinese embassy, we made our way to the home of Darko’s father driving through a beautiful park not dissimilar to Central Park in Manhattan along the way.  I can’t be certain what park it was because I didn’t know the geographical area; we soon arrived at our destination.  Darko’s father lived in the most incredibly beautiful green hills in an area of Serbia existing somewhere between Beograd and Montenegro.  Immediately upon entering and meeting his father, stepmother and grandmother who recently passed away, I felt part of the family.  Although his family did not speak English, Darko and Bojana translated for me. 
    
     Darko’s grandmother was an extraordinarily warm and wise woman in whose presence I felt comfortable and happy the entire time.  Before dinner there was the customary libation of grappa (a Serbian hard liquor of incredible potency).  If only I could find grappa here in America.  After another dinner that would give Manhattan’s top chefs a run for their money,  Darko brought me upstairs into a guest room to take a nap.
    
    I told him I was not tired but he insisted I nap saying we would be driving all night before reaching Montenegro and I need my rest.  I must have slept an hour before he awakened me to say our parting goodbyes and begin our journey.  I was extremely excited; Darko promised me a three week Adriatic holiday allowing me swimming privileges at every beach from Hercegovni to an area he said was only ten meters from Kosovo’s border.  We couldn’t go into Kosovo Darko said because it was too dangerous.  I knew Darko had been shot several times and almost killed in Kosovo previously so I didn’t push the issue. As a former lifeguard and avid swimmer, I couldn‘t wait for my vacation to start and Darko delivered it to me as promised.     
    
    The onset of our journey began at sunset; still adjusting to the time zone differential I dozed off in Darko’s backseat; for how long I’m uncertain.  I dozed on and off until sunrise when we reached the Montenegrin border.  I mean, there wasn’t much to see driving in the dark cover of night.  The wider well lit highway we initially set out upon gradually narrowed as the highway lights became fewer.  Eventually there were no highway lights at all.  My body continuously shifted from one side of Darko’s backseat to the other making sleep difficult. 
    It was obvious the road we traversed was analogous to Pacific Coast Highway in California driving through Big Sur.  It was mountainous, dangerously ridden with hairpin turns and no guardrails.  In Montenegro, inexperienced travelers could almost mistake the scenery for Big Sur with the beautiful blue Adriatic sea hugging the bottoms of the cliffs we not so cautiously traveled.  I asked Darko to slow down because he was driving like speed racer.  He replied not to worry explaining he could drive these roads blindfolded he knew them well.  I thought to myself, better safe than sorry buddy.  It is a good thing I had some prescription Xanax with me, I popped one, maybe two just to relax while simultaneously trying to hide this act from Darko since he hated drugs in general.  He especially hated my taking the prescription medications my doctor gave me saying I didn’t need them, they were addicting and poison.  He also strongly disdained cigarettes; Bojana smoked covertly. 
    
    The sun was just rising when Darko awakened me excitedly pointing out the tunnel we were driving through.  I think he said at the other end we’d be entering Montenegro.  Driving to the Budva Riviera in Montenegro we drove through some similar tunnels; the scenery was unbelievably breathtaking.  There is no other place in the world I’d rather be than in Budva Montenegro and I recommend everyone vacation there.  We were making our way to a seaside resort a friend of Darko owned.  Still driving like speed racer around the hairpin turns and mountainous cliffs compromising the road, we finally arrived at our destination safely.  I admit Darko is an excellent driver; his driving is reminiscent of agent 007 in James Bond movies.
    
        Because of the Kosovo war, there was not one functional  ATM in either in Serbia and Montenegro.  To be safe I split the five thousand dollars we had between Darko and I.  I held onto half and he the other.  One of my favorite stories I tell people of my trip is how I swam with my money throughout the trip; it made me feel secure always keeping some cash on me at all times; even when I was swimming a quarter mile out in the Adriatic sea.  Darko told me not to; I did anyway.  
    
    
    
    Owing to that, the cash I held was often wet.  One particular time we went to a bank in Montenegro.  The banks there are so remarkably careful of counterfeiting, they refused exchanging my United States dollars for Euros because my money was wet; the three of us returned to the hotel using my blow dryer to evaporate the dollar bills until dried.  The three of us henceforth joked about this saying we laundered the money.     
    
    Upon arriving at the resort, Darko introduced me to his friend and we worked out the financial gratuities for our stay.  We paid him eight hundred United States dollars for ten days; meals included.  Unlike hotels in America, meals meant an extremely large home cooked breakfast consisting of large varieties of meat, coffee and juice.  Lunch and dinner consisted of many course meals where main dishes consisted of either freshly caught seafood or meat.  Our accommodation consisted of two medium sized rooms with separate entrances; one for myself and another for Darko and Bojana.  To reach the beach we only needed to walk across the street and down a small path; one could see Italy at the other end of the horizon on a clear day.  I was ecstatic loving to swim.  Since Bojana didn’t swim, Darko couldn’t always accompany me to the beach so I‘d just walk to it myself for periodic swims throughout the day; August was a very hot month.  Of any country I’ve visited, Serbia and Montenegro wins my top prize for fun, food, beauty and hospitality.  Everyone is friendly, warm, the atmosphere is relaxed and laid back and most persons speak some English owing to children learning English as a second language in school at a young age.  Unfortunately, American school children do not grow up learning another language other than native English which leaves them I feel at an intellectual disadvantage. 
    
            Each day Darko took us to another beach for a day enjoying food, drink, music, perhaps some shopping and primarily, swimming.  As long as I could swim for hours each day I was happy.  By the time nighttime rolled in all of us were so tired each day we usually had dinner and retired early, except for one night.  This just happened to be the one night of my entire vacation I was overly exhausted wanting to retire early at any cost.  Inversely, this was the one evening both Darko and Bojana incredibly excited informed me to take a shower, dress and get ready for a big surprise.  
    
    
    When I asked Darko what this surprise was and its great importance being I was so tired; he merely insisted I go get ready for it.  Darko was always very bossy in my estimation constantly telling us when to sleep, awakening Bojana and I up early, limiting our time before breakfast for dressing, blow drying our hair etc. which the two of us always complained about privately to each other.  I always accepted this as part of his personality but this night it annoyed me to no end; I simply wanted sleep, surprise or not.  As usual I gave into to Darko’s demands by hurrying to my room, showering, changing, and preparing myself for a night out.  If you’re a woman, you understand when you have a crush on someone as I did Darko, you usually give into his demands easily; so I did.    
    
    Upon changing, Dark and Bojana were waving me to hurry to the car;  exhausted I got in and slammed the door.  Less than ten minutes up the pitch black road Darko pulled the car over and we got out.  Darko and Bojana said, “Hurry Jill look down there.”  At the bottom of the cliffs was the most beautiful city of lights I’ve ever seen.  Darko said proudly, “this is Budva Jill, that‘s where we are going.”  It was many times more beautiful that Paris or Manhattan at night and situated in a valley about a mile and a half wide forcing the Montenegrin peninsula farther out.  It was a remarkably amazing sight, Budva itself being lit up with a wide variety of bright lights surrounded by an aura of pitch black.  By this time Bojana started complaining to Darko to move his car in more because someone may come around the sharp turn in the darkness sideswiping it.  Darko never worried much about illegal parking or his speed limit owing to whenever getting pulled over, he just made manifest to the officer his huge governmental badge and they let him go;  the badge was at least three times larger than the usual American police officer badge and was gold in color.       
    
    Darko became annoyed with Bojana’s complaints so we returned to the car, got in and descended about five minutes down the treacherously dark road into Budva and parked.  I couldn’t believe it! It was like a dream,  We walked down around Budva, Darko pointing out everything.  
    
    We stopped to have a drink at one of the many outdoor bar/café’s and listened to the live entertainment while we sipped our drinks.    Then I went to buy another bathing suit at a small shop when Darko told me to follow him and Bojana into the most amazing bar I’ve ever seen, anywhere in the world.  The bar itself was actually a small island rocky island;  to reach it one had to walk underground maybe a little less than one quarter mile.   Upon entering the bar it had many levels; all outside surrounded by the roaring nighttime surf of the sea and live entertainment. I saw a few people illegally swimming and asked Darko if I could swim there too.  He informed me the swimming was closed for the evening.  We ordered  drinks and sat there chilling for a while.  On the walk back Darko showed me all the gambling casinos along the Riviera.  It looked like anyone could get whatever they wanted in Budva if they had the correct amount of money with them.  Montenegro was to me akin to a luxurious playground for the ultra rich, famous as well as infamous.  We then walked back via way of the tunnel, stopped at a small outdoor restaurant all ordering a type of delicious pancake we enjoyed by dipping it in chocolate syrup and drove back to the hotel to get some rest.
    
    The next day Darko took merely us to another gorgeous beach.  It was reminiscent of Greece.  The water was sapphire blue, clear and warm.  The beach itself was not large, but completely hidden by huge rocky cliffs.  The three of us took a kind of small craft about a quarter of a mile out into the Adriatic; Darko and I jumped in for a swim.  Bojana was partially nude sunbathing at the time on the boat and since she was unable to swim, Darko teased her by stealing her clothes, pretending not to give them back to her.  She immediately became upset demanding Darko return her clothes;  Darko soon complied with her demands.  Thereafter, we ended the day with lunch and drinks.  The following day was one of my vacation high points.  We visited the Ostrog monastery.    
    
    Driving to the Ostrog monastery was long, hot and boring.  It lied somewhere deep beyond the Montenegrin coastline inland.  We drove a long windy road without even so much as a store on it.  After a couple of hours, Darko stopped for lunch at the only restaurant I noticed the entire trip.  You’d think it would be small being situated in the middle of what I considered, “nowhere.”  However, this was not the case.
    
    There was actually a long line and tons of people there having lunch.  I could only imagine like us they were on their way to visit Ostrog.  The restaurant itself was classy and I can only liken it to seeing a luxurious restaurant in the middle of the Mohave desert.  While I was visiting Ostrog monastery in Montenegro, Darko introduced me to a Serbian priest asking me if I wanted confession. The man looked almost verbatim to Karadzic in his monks getup. I mean the way the latest news photos of Karadzic in his monk getup looks.  I only became cognizant of this recently since the photos of him since his arrest have been made publicly manifest. In particular I remember the priest’s large darker curl on the top of this priest’s head like in the recent Karadzic photos; I wondered who would make their monks hair like that. This priest blessed me and told Darko in Serbian he could not hear my confession owing to his not understanding English well. He gave me a gift, a book about the monastery itself which I gave to Archbishop John LoBue in West Milford (my priest).   
    
    While visiting Ostrog, we venerated the holy relics leaving an offering of either food or money at the door leading to the holy relics; I can’t remember which now.  Leaving, we looked around the gift shop, had coffee at the small Ostrog monastery café  and Darko gave me a tour where the monks sleep and shower.  Then we made the long drive back to the hotel.  We had the usual dinner at which time Bojana was overcome with a terrible toothache.  I told her I’d pay for the filling tomorrow; Darko knew a dentist 10 meter from Kosovo‘s border.  Tomorrow we‘d swim there and have Bojana‘s tooth looked at.  The town we went to the next day possessed an ethnic Albanian majority and organized crime was everywhere.    
    
    Before retiring for the evening I went for a small walk around the corner from the hotel to buy some snacks; there was a small store there.  I never felt endangered at any time by anyone.  During my stay in Montenegro I walked to the store myself almost daily buying drinks and other items I could enjoy privately in my room at night.  I never noticed previously to that evening’s walk just how many persons actually were vacationing from Western Europe in Budva the fall 2002 like me.  
    
    
    After promenading to the store, upon returning to the hotel, a German man sitting outside the hotel and speaking in broken English introduced himself.  When I told him that I was from New Jersey in the United States he became extremely interested and warmly said he is pleased I was able to enjoy the area.  I replied, “I was tired and needed to retire.” Saying he understood he returned to his card game.
    
    We had the usual dinner at which time Bojana was overcome with a terrible toothache.  I told her I’d pay for the filling tomorrow; Darko knew a dentist ten meters from Kosovo‘s border.  Tomorrow we‘d swim there and have Bojana‘s tooth looked at.  The town we went to the next day possessed an ethnic Albanian majority and organized crime was everywhere.    
    
    We awoke early as to get Bojana to the dentist.  This is actually where the Montenegrin bank had refused to exchange our money for Euros.  Managing cash was difficult in Serbia and Montenegro owing to that the national currency in Serbia was still dinars and in Montenegro it was Euros.  Most businessman preferred either Euros or American dollars, but one never knew which.
    
    Upon parking, Darko led the way down the busy street towards the dentist who I remember being an ethnic Albanian man.  Apparently, they visited this dentist previously and he was extremely friendly.  Not at any time did any ethnic Albanians cause me, Darko or Bojana any problems because I was American and they were Serb.  The dentist was going to take a while and since the bank would not exchange our American dollars for Euros, we could buy neither lunch nor anything else and we all possessed a ravenous hunger for lunch.
    
    Ignoring Darko’s warnings not to go wondering myself, I left the dentist office under the pretense of going for a walk while Bojana had her dental work completed.  Before Darko could catch me I was gone.  I walked up the main street about one mile and began asking people in English where I could exchange United States currency for Euros.  I came upon a well dressed ethnic Albanian high school student, a girl speaking perfect English who told me to walk up the street about another half mile and when I see men selling the cigarettes outside on a bridge table, ask them to do the deed; I did.  
    The girl asked me about America saying her greatest wish was to study in New York City one day.  When I told her about my experience at the New School for Social Research, being dismissed for my anti NATO views on the Kosovo war she replied to me, “maybe she was wrong about wanting to study in Manhattan.”
    
    I made my way to the table with about five ethnic Albanian men hanging about selling cigarettes and asked them in English if they could exchange money for me; they did.  They were definitely organized crime.  They took my wet cash, examined the bills, one man walked into an apartment building with my cash while I merely waited.  He didn‘t rob me and returned with my Euros.  Surprisingly,  I found everyone in both Serbia and Montenegro very honorable in their business dealings; even if those dealings are organized crime.
    
    Upon receiving my Euros from the men, I walked away back to see if Bojana was through with the dentist; she was.  I excitedly told Darko that I had successfully managed to exchange American dollars for Euros thinking he’d be pleased with me; he wasn’t.  Darko was always very protective of me.  Instead of commending me he immediately got very angry; scolding me he said exchanging money illegally in the streets of Montenegro was both illegal and dangerous.  You can’t change the past so I diplomatically apologized and Darko soon forgot his anger I lieu of the fact that now we all could have lunch.  Afterward, Darko brought us to a beautiful beach nearby.  The majority of the sunbathers were ethnic Albanian and again no one  harassed us based on our ethnicity.  I tried pushing Darko into driving into Kosovo but he flatly refused.  I found it interesting that the international news at this time was reporting that there were hundreds of thousands of homeless ethnic Albanians being ethnically cleansed to Albania, I did not see one ethnic Albanian or Roma homeless on the streets anywhere. All seemed normal only ten meters from the Kosovo border.  After a day of swimming and partially nude sunbathing, we returned to the hotel.
    
    
    
    
    
    Insofar as sequence of events, at this junction in time it was the last few days I spent in Montenegro; it’s difficult now to remember the exact timeline of events.  In other words, I remember visiting Old Town  and Podgorica also in Montenegro but uncertain of which locations we visited first.  During the last two days, Darko took me one day to Old Town in Montenegro for dinner; there we greatly enjoyed an expensive seafood meal after which we walked around.  Darko got a parking ticket that night in Old Town and greatly complained about its five dollar fee;  for some, five dollars is equal to an entire week pay in Serbia.  I think I offered him the five dollars for the ticket feeling guilty because it was only for my benefit he parked there at all.  Darko wanted to show me Old Town; he already knew what the beautiful cobble stone streets looked like.      
    
    We also went to the Montenegrin capital, Podgorica.  I really don’t remember much of Podgorica except for walking around the streets one night.  Since we didn’t swim there so it wasn’t a high point for me.  When our ten day stay in Montenegro was finished we all packed and returned the way we came in Darko’s car.  The day before we left, Darko’s car required maintenance.  We didn’t have enough cash on hand left to pay for the needed repairs so I called Arnold Stark, my fiancée in the states, asking him to please wire us five hundred dollars cash to Montenegro; he did.  This is a fact that Arnold himself can verify being that he alone possesses the charge card receipt for wiring us the money through Western Union to a town not far from Budva.  With Darko’s car repairs complete, we returned home for Beograd.
    
    On the way back to Beograd we made two more important stops.  One was Hercegovni where we met up with Darko’s cousin, a soon to be freshman college student and her friends.  We had a couple of drinks, snapped some photos and Darko and I went for a quick swim in the sea.  When it began to rain, we called it a day.  The other stop was somewhere on the way back, where I have no idea.   We pulled up to a large lake.  Darko pulled his car onto a large ferry boat.  There were some people on the ferry, but primarily soldiers from the Serbian military.  Reaching the other side we drove around but I can’t remember much.  
    
    
    Returning on the ferry, we piled into Darko’s car and appeared at his apartment several hours later.  We were all extremely exhausted and passed out as soon as possible in our separate rooms.  Again, we walked past the same old men sitting in front of Darko’s apartment building seeming to do nothing; they waved at us.     
    
    There were only two days left of my vacation at this point; I didn’t feel like doing much of anything.  I’d come down with terrible stomach symptoms that began in Budva several days prior.  This was probably owing to my ignoring Darko and Bojana’s warning not to drink ta
    
  26. Harry Shortway, Pete Van Gilst, Sorchinski Could Face Murder Charges Sources Say>>

    The Instablog.Com website administration today stated on my blog account, I am no longer authorized to submit articles for some unknown reason. I surmise the reason may be I’m submitting too many articles at once. Hence, I opened an additional account just so I could post this follow up comment on my previously written article entitled, Comparing West Milford Detectives in New Jersey to the Treatment Received By Karadzic and Mladic in Serbia.

    Please read it.

    It is an extremely important legal case I am submitting to the Hague Court in the Netherlands as an individual complainant from here in the United States of America. I hope it will set an international precedent even in America people are abused by government officers.

    I am fully convinced after almost a decade of asking the legal governmental authorities at local, state and federal levels here in the United States of America to arrest and try Detective Harry Shortway and his Sgt. Laughlin in a court of law in America for attempting to murder me and moreover physically and emotionally torturing me and my family in 1990/1991,

    it is clear,

    the United States of America is either unwilling OR incapable of taking the bold moral measures to arrest Harry Shortway and associates giving him a fair trial here in America similarly to what American diplomats such as Hillary Clinton accuse Serbia of not submitting General Mladic to the Hague for trial.

    Hypocritical America, don’t you agree (?)

    This makes a mockery of genuine ideals insofar as human rights in America while manifesting extremely gross violations of human rights against me as well as attempted genocide committed against me by Harry Shortway (on account of allegedly wanting to kill me because I derive from a Jewish family background and was then married to a black on account of his fascist affiliations with the National Alliance KKK group). These crimes against me occurred only thirty minutes away from the United Nations Security Council in Manhattan; I, Jill Starr am an American citizen and previously wrote the UN about this in the early 1990s.

    All together now let’s remember the crime of ‘genocide’ in and of itself, can be the attempt to kill one OR thousands of members of any ethnic, religious group.

    More to come on this story.

    I AM OFFERING A FINANCIAL REWARD FOR ANY AND ALL INFORMATION LEADING TO CAPTURE AND ARREST OF DETECTIVE HARRY SHORTWAY FORMER WEST MILFORD NEW JERSEY DETECTIVE AND HIS SGT. LAUGHLIN AND ASSOCIATES:

    1) SGT. LAUGHLIN (IS A TALL RED HAIRED MAN OVER 6 FEET IN HEIGHT AND SLIM BUILD- HE IS NOT VERY INTELLIGENT).

    SGT. LAUGHLIN WAS LAST SEEN BY ME IN BACK OF RYAN MACHINE COMPANY IN THE DRIVEWAY OF THE HOUSE I USED TO RENT WITH MY FAMILY OFF MACOPIN ROAD IN WEST MILFORD NEW JERSEY YANKING ME BY MY LONG HAIR AND BANGING MY HEAD AGAINST HIS POLICE CAR WHILE HIS ROCKIE PARTNER COP WATCHED. THEN HE SHOVED ME INTO HIS POLICE CAR IN HANDCUFFING WHICH HE CONTINUED TIGHTENING AGAINST MY WRISTS TILL THEY BEGAN BLEEDING IN PAIN WHILE I CRIED OUT IN AGONY AND TEARS FOR HIM TO STOP; HE WOULD NOT STOP AND CONTINUE LAUGHING WHILE HE DROVE ME TO UP TO SEE SHORTWAY WHO WAS WAITING FOR ME AT THE WEST MILFORD POLICE STATION.

    I AM OFFERING A FINANCIAL REWARD FOR ANY AND ALL INFORMATION LEADING TO CAPTURE AND ARREST OF DETECTIVE HARRY SHORTWAY FORMER WEST MILFORD NEW JERSEY DETECTIVE AND HIS SGT. LAUGHLIN AND ASSOCIATES:

    1) SGT. LAUGHLIN (IS A TALL RED WAVY HAIRED MAN OVER 6 FEET IN HEIGHT AND SLIM BUILD- HE IS NOT VERY INTELLIGENT).

    SGT. LAUGHLIN WAS LAST SEEN BY ME IN BACK OF RYAN MACHINE COMPANY IN THE DRIVEWAY OF THE HOUSE I USED TO RENT IN HIGHCREST LAKE COMMUNITY WITH MY FAMILY OFF MACOPIN ROAD IN WEST MILFORD NEW JERSEY YANKING ME BY MY LONG HAIR AND BANGING MY HEAD AGAINST HIS POLICE CAR ABOUT TEN TIMES NONSTOP WHILE HIS ROCKIE PARTNER COP STOOD THERE DOING NOTHING MERELY WATCHING ME BE ABUSED.

    THEN SGT LAUGHLIN SHOVED ME INTO HIS POLICE CAR IN HANDCUFFS WHICH HE CONTINUED TIGHTENING AGAINST MY WRISTS TILL THEY BEGAN BLEEDING IN PAIN WHILE I CRIED OUT IN AGONY AND TEARS FOR HIM TO STOP; HE WOULD NOT STOP AND CONTINUED LAUGHING WHILE HE DROVE ME TO UP TO SEE SHORTWAY WHO WAS WAITING FOR ME AT THE WEST MILFORD POLICE STATION.

    THIS FINANCIAL REWARD IS CONTINGENT UPON ANY FINANCIAL SETTLEMENT I MAY RECEIVE IN THE FUTURE FROM THE THREE GRADUATE SCHOOLS FORMERLY DISCRIMINATING AGAINST ME IN THE MOST VILE MANNERS IN THE NJ AND NYC AREAS.

    I WILL OFFER SPLIT EQUITABLE FINANCIAL REWARD OF 50% OF ANY MONEY I RECEIVE TO THOSE AGENCIES AND/OR INDIVIDUALS COURAGEOUS ENOUGH TO HELP BRING THESE RUTHLESS DETECTIVES AND THEIR SGT’S TO JUSTICE AND JAIL.

    AND, IF AMERICAN CANNOT FIND THE MORAL AND POLITICAL WILLPOWER TO BRING THEM TO JUSTICE AND TRIAL HERE IN THE USA, I WANT THEM EXTRADITED TO THE HAGUE ICC COURT.

    In friendship and diplomacy my reputation for honesty proceeds me so all interested persons and/or parties in helping me bring Shortway and his Sgt Laughlin from West Milford NJ to trial at teh Hague,

    can rest assured I will uphold my end of the reward agreement shall I receive financial settlement myself from the aforementioned colleges in the near future. Comment Link Reply to this comment Posted by lpcyusa at 6:52 AM 1 comments:

    lpcyusa said…

    I Felt many Times Safer With General Ratko Mladic Than I Do Sitting Alone In My Apartment In Bloomingdale, NJ USA
    
    As an after thought on my book. I doubt very much that I met Mr. Mladic on a �baor restaurant.� There was no one else present having dinner.
    
    It as more like a living and/or conference setting and seems to me now to be more like a private yacht. I have never really been on one before but it reminded me of photos I’ve seen of the interior of Onassis’s yachts.
    
    I felt many times more safer sitting with General Ratko Mladic Than I Do Sitting At Home In My Apartment In Bloomingdale, NJ US!
    
    Although it may sound foreign to many here in America, I would feel safer having the Serbian Army as my bodyguards here at my house in Bloomingdale, NJ where I rent a small apartment to protect me from the local townships’ corrupt law enforcement officials and if I had teh finances I hire a few.
    April 2, 2009 6:57 AM 
    

    Post a Comment

  27. #

    What It’s Like to Chill with the Most Ruthless Men in the World

    Ratko Mladic and Radovan Karadzic: Confessions of a Female War Crimes Investigator

    Retrospectively, it was all so simple, natural and matter of fact being on a boat restaurant in Belgrade, sitting with, laughing, drinking a two hundred bottle of wine and chatting about war and peace while Ratko Mladic held my hand.  Mladic,  a man considered the world’s most ruthless war criminal since Adolf Hitler, still at large and currently having a five million dollar bounty on his head for genocide by the international community.  Yet there I was with my two best friends at the time, a former Serbian diplomat, his wife, and Ratko Mladic just chilling.  There was no security, nothing you’d ordinarily expect in such circumstances.  Referring to himself merely as, Sharko; this is the story of it all came about.
    
    It all began as former United States President Bill Clinton spearheaded NATO’s war against Serbia, Montenegro and Slobodan Milosevic (March 1999).  Thirty-five years old, conducting graduate study work at the New School for Social Research in New York City in political science,  I planned graduating spring 1999 with an area study emphasis in international law and human rights.  I was naïve then, still believing strongly in democratic liberal concepts such as freedom of academic thought.  Hence, I never anticipated my political views would impede either my graduation or completing my master’s thesis work on whether NATO member states committed gross violations of customarily accepted international criminal law in launching military aggression against Serbia and Montenegro owing to not acquiring United Nations Security Counsel approval prior.
    
    Then as hit with the identical smart bomb dropped on Milosevic’s presidential palace in Serbia the night of April 22nd 1999, political science chairperson then at the New School, Professor David Plotke, summoned me into his office before class that evening and dismissed me from the master’s program at the New School owing to what he considered my possessing unsavory political science opinions.  
    
    
    Only having to complete two more classes to graduate, I always thought my future in political sciences as wide open with innumerous possibilities; unfortunately this proved untrue.  Plotke told me in no uncertain terms that I was not the type of person the New School wanted walking around with a degree stating the New School’s prestigious name on it.
    
    Ironically, the New School was an institution I attended only owing to its’ placing great pride and emphasis on allowing students complete academic freedom of thought without dictating what is and what is not politically correct to discuss.  Yet surprisingly, dismissal from the program and blow to my graduate work should not been completely unexpected since the semester immediately prior, the school refused allowing me to conduct my graduate thesis work on the subject of whether the NATO and Bill Clinton committed war crimes against the former Yugoslavia during the Kosovo war (1999) and internally suggested I write about infringement of Muslim human rights in France.  I suppose with the likes of Hillary Clinton and Tony Blair hanging about the fourth floor of the school at the renown World Policy Institute in 1999, I should have expected the university would not take kindly to student‘s speaking out critically against Bill Clinton and the Kosovo war (1999) he went down in history for advocating.  Then again, in 1999 I still believed in the school’s core ideals of academic freedom, especially since I was paying no less than one thousand United States dollars a credit to attend.  My civil rights lawsuit against the college is another story in and of itself not deserving extended amounts of space here, except what I already mentioned. 
    
    Dismissal from graduate school left me in a complete state of  scholarly anomie seeking empathy and solace from my few friends and confidants at the time including many diplomats I studied with at the New School for several years.  The list included  but was not limited to ambassadors from Iran, Oman and a newly appointed First Secretary of the Bosnian Mission to the United Nations in New York, Darko Trifunovic.  
    
    Noteworthy of mentioning, both the ambassadors from Iran and Oman both confided in me their own extreme dissatisfactions and the scholarly problems they themselves currently encountered at the New School for Social Research.  On the last day attending the school, both aforementioned men explicitly complained to me the school was holding them back from graduating owing to their own so-called extremely unsavory political viewpoints.  In particular the Iranian ambassador, Amir, was writing his master’s thesis on the Iranian contra affair and the man from Oman told me for years he was being held back from graduating because Greek Professor Addie Pollis strongly disdained his Islamic religious and cultural views insofar as human rights and multiple marriage partners by Muslim sultans in his country of origin.  It was May (1999).
    
    Riddled with uncertainty about my future scholarly status, I immediately applied for graduate study at Farleigh Dickinson University in New Jersey where I studied an additional two years before encountering similar problems with the graduate school faculty there.  Ironically it was only FDU professors whom formerly studied themselves at the New School still in touch with the faculty there, who were later responsible for my having to leave the graduate program at FDU in early 2002.  
    
    Between the time of my dismissal from the New School and my dismissal from FDU the fall (2002), I stayed in touch with many scholars and other politically active persons sharing similar anti-war views as myself regarding NATO’s 1999 Kosovo war including: Professor Barry Lituchy (NYC), Ramsey Clark’s people at the International Action Center, and a couple of new acquaintances I’ve chanced meet online in Serbian political activist forums.  One of those people was, Darko Trifunovic. 
    
    
    
    
    Darko and I were e-mailing each other regularly by early spring (1999) at which time he informed me that he became the newly appointed First Secretary of the Bosnian Mission to the United Nations in New York City and wondered whether I would pick him up at JFK airport when he arrives in a few weeks;  I acceded.  Darko arrived first, his very beautiful wife, Bojana, arrived as expected about one month later after he was settled.
    
    Darko greatly impressed me at the time.  Being a former political advisor to the to the former female President of the Republic of Srpska in Bosnia, he had a degree in international law, diplomatic immunity, was a writer, handsome, and fun to just hang-out with and work.  The three of us became extremely close friends and confidants. I even became voted in as the executive director of the Law Projects Center Yugoslavia in New York .  The Law Projects Center was a United Nations accredited NGO and offshoot of the Yugoslav Coalition to Establish and international criminal court.  Darko and some political people originally founded the organization in Belgrade Serbia prior his arrival in New York City in diplomatic capacity.  I worked fervently legally registering the organization  in New Jersey as a legally filed non-profit successfully.  The Law Projects Center and its activities demanded Darko, his wife and I often stayed the night over each others’ apartments often; many times working days at a time with very little sleep.
    
    From winter (1999) until fall (2002), Darko, his wife and I worked daily at the Bosnian Mission to the United Nations in New York City co-authoring two books: 1) The Bosnian Model of Al-Qaeda Terrorism and; 2) The Srebrenica Massacre.  As a young student of war and peace in the former Yugoslavia, I was in scholarly heaven accessing the United Nations to work with Darko daily.  This enabled my meeting many of the most fascinating people in the world.  I vividly remember Senator Bill Richardson at the time giving nightly press interviews on television about meeting with OPEC members states, “setting them straight about lowering oil prices in 2000.�  Yet when I’d chit-chat with the Iranian ambassador in the city before class asking him about it he would say to me something to the effect as,� We at OPEC are so angry about former  colonialism by England and America, OPEC will continually attempt bringing both the United States and England to their financial knees on  energy issues…And by the way Jill, Russia does not in any manner intend to halt weapon sales to Iran.�  
    
    In fact Amir and I, notwithstanding our theological differences, got alone well.  We’d often sit together before class acceding on a great many matters.  In particular I remember us sitting one night and looking me square in the eye stating, “You know Jill, I will never believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God.�  I replied, “And I Amir will never convert to Islam.� Now that we got that out of the way, we both smiled at one another getting  down to discussing real issues.
    
    The Bosnian mission to the United Nations in New York City in 2001 was an extremely interesting place.  Reflecting the rotating ethnic presidency existing in Bosnia unto present, Mission employees were comprised of people of completely bipolar ethnic, theological and politically ideological viewpoints.  The Head Ambassador of the Mission post 9-11 was then combating rumors of his soon becoming persona non grata in the United States for allegedly giving Osama Bin Laden a visa to travel through Bosnia illegally when previously stationed in Italy in 1993.  There were also rumors he confessed to the United States Department of State of running international arms trades in connection with Al-Qaeda.  The number two man at the Bosnian mission, the First Ambassador was Serbian, Orthodox Christian and a doctor of medicine by university degree.  The First Secretary of the Mission was my friend Darko, the Consulate department was headed by an ethnic Muslim lady from Bosnia, and there was an ethnic Croatian woman floating around with other various diplomats being of Roman Catholic Croatian descent. 
    
    My time at the Mission was primarily spent fixing Darko’s laptop computer which became daily infected with computer viruses he continually claimed emanated from other employees at the Mission who were allegedly trying to sabotage him because of his ethnic Serbian background.  I vividly recall the constant bickering between all the mission employees; always accusing each other of committing war crimes and giving each other computer viruses making it virtually impossible for any of them to get along.  The Croatian diplomat usually stayed to herself with her office door shut while the others present usually just listened to Led Zeppelin rock music on their personal CD-ROM players.  They told me repeatedly they had nothing else to do with their time at the United Nations beyond an occasional meeting except for  listening to music and playing computer games.  
    Sad and ironic was the few things I noticed all the Bosnian mission employees agreeing upon was their undying love for the rock band, Led Zeppelin. 
    
    A year had come and gone while I totally immersed myself into political inquiry as to just who was guilty of committing war crimes in the former Yugoslavia.  My favorite subjects of inquiry included: NATO, Kosovo & Metohia, Serbia, Montenegro, Bosnia and persons of interest such as Mladic and Hacim Thaci (Albanian Leader of the Kosovo Liberation Army).  It was not enough for my merely taking in nightly news reports from CNN and other mainstream American media; to conduct an investigation for inquiry of social fact, I needed to go to Serbia and investigate for myself. 
    
    Only after seeing firsthand the goings on in the Balkans could I make a discriminate determination of guilty parties insofar as genocide there.   After my fateful month long trip to Serbia and Montenegro in the fall 2002 I later concluded all warring parties involved had blood on their hands (Croats, Serbs, Muslims and the NATO); there are no innocents.  But in 2001, neither my finances nor busy schedule allowed such a trip.  Moreover, not speaking fluent Serbian coupled with the  anti-American sentiment existing in Serbia then listed on the United States Department of State travel warning website caused going to there an unfeasible option.  Hence, my life and studies went on as usual.
    
    Several seasons went by and now it was spring 2001.  Darko and his wife Bojana had time off which they spent visiting friends and family in Serbia for about two weeks.  Because of this Darko was unable to function in full diplomatic capacity.  In spring 2001 there was a preparatory commission meeting of plenipotentiaries to establish an international criminal court at the United Nations in New York City.  Topics of the meeting included but were not limited to defining interstate acts of aggression, court financing etc..  Darko asked me if I would sit in for him at the meeting taking as many notes possible owing to the Law Projects Center possessing United Nations accreditation as a NGO (non governmental organization) with full observer status at the United Nations;  I acceded.
    
    
    Darko faxed me all necessary paperwork enabling my application attendance at this crucial meeting; I filled out the necessary forms and faxed them to the appropriate United Nations office for approval.  It was an extremely exciting time for me.  My close friend and colleague, Arnold Stark (History professor and Columbian University PhD) drove me into Manhattan walking me through the United Nations main entrance and security the day of attendance.  Professor Stark himself was an old foreign service man from way back in the day and he told me I never looked as professionally sharp as I did on that day; I wore a navy blue pin striped suit.  I must admit, I looked good.  
    
    Only post attending that day did I truly understand the total lapse of  security existing then at the United Nations in New York City.  I say this owing to the social fact that the Law Projects Center was indeed registered as an United nations accredited NGO it is true.  However, closed meetings of this sort meant attendance was strictly limited to head ambassadors of valid United Nations member state missions and non governmental organizations possessing observer status were not allowed.
    
    Unto present, I’ve yet understood whereby I gained entrance into this privy closed meeting consisting of only United Nations  ambassadors, but I did.  Walking to the basement floor of the United Nations building that day, I merely wore a visitors badge given to me at the front desk in no manner indicating that I was an ambassador of a United Nations mission;  least of all the Bosnia mission as required for entrance.  Totally unaware I didn’t possess necessary credentials to enter the meeting, I walked confidently towards the entrance door and past the guard stationed outside it.  The guard never bothering to  examine the type of badge I wore around my neck simply said “good day Madame� and urged me into the meeting; it was just about time to begin.
    
    I immediately sensed something wrong once through the door past the guard.  First, I was uncertain where to sit.  Everyone else had a sign in front of their seat stating their country of origin. The Israeli ambassador sat in front of the Israel sign, the Spanish lady sat in front of the seat indicating she represented, Spain etc..  
    
    I looked fervently around the room seeing no seats indicating seats for United Nations observers anywhere.  The last thing I wanted to do was to embarrass myself by taking the seat of an important ambassador; I noticed a couple of men seeming from some African state grabbing some meeting paperwork nearby so I inquired of them. I told them I was a newbie and inquired where to sit and what I should do.  With heavy African accents one of them said, “just grab a bunch of these papers, sit there and look like you are busy,� so I did.  In fact, I grabbed as many extra copies as I could without looking conspicuous when noticing another peculiarity.  
    
    The meeting papers indicated they were for restricted for the eyes of state mission heads’ only (chief ambassadors of countries) and allowing other persons and/or United Nations employees to view them was a punishable offense.  Uncertain what to do, and with the meeting beginning, I merely sat there stunned.  My seat and the one the African gentleman next to me took seemed extras because they neglected having any indication regarding country origin in front of them on the table; I felt safe.  
    
    As totally immersed and interesting as I found the topics, the African ambassador seated found boring.  I say this owing to noticing during the entire meeting he was merely doodling nonsensical pictures on some legal pad.  I think that no one took more notes that day than me.  I was especially interested in the interstate bickering about financing the international criminal court should and when it came about.  Spain was particularly forceful in vocalizing its opinion that the countries giving the most monetary contributions to the court itself ought have more power over both its staffing and its innocent and guilty verdicts as well as judges appointed.  My suspicions’ equally shared by scholars such as Noam Chomsky and former attorney general, Ramsey Clark were now fully justifiably confirmed.  The court itself was a great travesty of justice and I was actually witnessing quarrels between countries insofar as controlling the courts judges and verdicts based on financial contributions rather than on law and true international justice.   
    
    
    
    The most shocking point of the meeting for me was when the Israeli ambassador admitted openly to the other attendees that Israel was indifferent to war crimes, crimes against humanity and would in no manner support any international structure limiting its’ ability for practicing war and peace against any other state and/or party it considered a threat to its national interest.  The ambassador representing the United States that day strongly and equally explicitly backed the Israeli position making clear American attendance was more for information gathering purposes and show than true concern for international law, world peace and social justice.  When the meeting ended I slipped quickly out the front entrance of the United Nations; notes and papers in hand; I would read them in detail later that evening. 
    
    It must have amazed Darko upon returning from Serbia I actually gained entrance to the ICC preparatory closed meeting because within a week he invited me to the city to attend another important meeting at the United Nations comprised of diplomats from some very selective and prestigious  NATO member states.  I don’t recall the date but by his return fully I understood the definition of a closed meeting.  Upon approaching the meeting door I became at once  cognizant the meeting stated  “closed meeting,� on the door.  I did my best to point this fact out to Darko who told me to go in with him anyway; we did.  Darko obviously thought because I gained entrance to the ICC meeting I ought not have in his absence, perhaps if I were with him, he covertly could gain access this closed NATO meeting; no dice.  Upon entering the room, immediately some important looking man called him over and diplomatically informed him that “Serbia was not invited.�  Darko pointed to me explaining that he was with the American lady but he was asked politely to leave; I followed him out the door embarrassed.   
    
    The following year was mundane.  Filled with activities like shuttling back and forth to FDU for graduate school, fund raising for the Law Projects Center and co-authoring two book with Darko.  The fateful day of 9/11 and the attacks by Al-Qaeda on the World Trade Center Towers in New York City changed my venue forever.  Post 9/11 Darko became a man on a personal mission seemingly unrelated to the Bosnian mission itself. 
    He told me it was the utmost importance to publicize the alleged fact that the head ambassador of the Bosnian mission was in his estimation involved with Al-Qaeda.  Darko had a seemingly ton of secret documentary evidence emanating from the ministry of internal affairs in Belgrade and Bosnia seeming true bolstering his allegations in my eyes then.
    
    Asking me to fervently work on editing a book on which topic was meant for exposing the head ambassador of the Bosnian mission at that time; I acceded.  The publication was later published by the Repubika Srpska information agency in Bosnia.  The Serbian government in the Republika Srpska in Bosnia then was seriously pressing Darko for a fast publication so we stayed up many nights over his apartment in Forest Hills, New York working to do so.  The book was entitled, �The Bosnia Model of Al-Qaeda Terrorism.  It can probably still be found and read online.  Last time I checked it was posted on the website: http://www.analyst-network.com/profile.php?user_id=240.
    
        Darko always told me I possessed full rights to this and  other publications we worked on together.  Although I edited and co-authoring the Al-Qaeda work, a few years back I noticed Darko removed my name on the inner front cover page as editor replacing it with the name of a Serbian editor.  When questioned about it Darko told me he kept my name from being published because of the death threats and dangers to my life that he himself encountered because of its publication.  I do vividly remember Darko receiving a great many death threats and threats towards his wife at the time, Bojana, so it is possible he was telling me the truth. 
    
    Even prior completing our work on the Al-Qaeda book together Darko was obsessed with manifesting the Bosnian Chief ambassador at the time as a terrorist.  At the time I had no reason to doubt Darko’s word and assisted him in rabidly writing an open letter to all the United Nations member state missions exposing him as such.  I surmise this is when Darko’s job at the United Nations as First Secretary of the Bosnian mission became jeopardized.
    
    Today I surmise Darko’s employment at the United Nations genuinely became compromised owing not only to the inter-ethnic conflicts existing between him and the head ambassador then, a proud Muslim man, but also owing to the fact he forged birth certificates to acquire his position in the first place later becoming a social fact from the interior ministry in Bosnia.  It was an emotional shock when Darko informed me a by summer 2001 that he lost his job and he and Bojana had to immediately return to Belgrade to work out the matter in court.  This was also a great emotional blow to me also owing to the fact that I always possessed a crush on Darko and he knew it.  This was a social fact I never publicly admitted previously to writing this book.  I once even asked Darko if he wanted to have an affair with me but he declined stating he would never be unfaithful to his beautiful wife, Bojana.  This left me in an extreme morally uncomfortable position because Bojana was my best friend.  I continually told myself being attracted to her husband Darko was a non-option.  Working so closely with him on an almost daily basis however made my attraction to him difficult to overcome.  
    
    I was also engaged to Professor Arnold Stark at the time and wore the ten thousand diamond ring he bought me on my finger. Arnold became increasingly jealous of Darko in time and eventually forbid me to work with him altogether. Notwithstanding, I continued working with Darko against Arnold’s wishes.  This coupled with my trip to Serbia and Montenegro in 2002 eventually led to my breakup with Professor Stark and after almost an entire decade, my relationship with Arnold never fully recovered.
    
    Darko tried keeping his job in diplomatic capacity at he UN as long as possible but the bipolar friction and hate existing between himself and the chief ambassador at the mission proved too much.  The chief ambassador in contact with the Bosnian government at the time in Sarajevo eventually had Darko dismissed as first secretary of the mission.  To the best of my recollection Darko was no longer receiving a monthly salary from Sarajevo by spring or summer 2002 (approximately).  
    
    I often came visiting Darko and Bojana’s  apartment in Manhattan then situated on a side street within walking distance from the UN to help them out financially by buying them inexpensive dinners and such in Manhattan and chauffeuring  them around (they did not own a car for the majority of their stay in the States).  
    
    In July 2002 as I remember the three of us spent many memorable moments going to the beaches outside the city and just spending time talking etc..  At the time and owing to my being in graduate school at FDU, I had plenty of extra money to burn owing my taking the maximum GSL student loans totaling about twenty thousand dollars a semester.  Then one day that summer Darko informed me he and Bojana were only awaiting the Bosnian government to wire them a sum of five thousand dollars to pay off their American bills, last month rent and they would make a hasty exit back to Belgrade permanently.  I was emotionally crushed. 
    
    Desperate not to lose contact with Darko because of my personal feelings towards him, I told him my summer classes at FDU were about to end August 2002 and although the fall semester was about to begin, I wanted to visit him in Serbia as soon as possible.  Soon for me meant as soon as I received a check from the United States government for the total of that semesters’ student loan money in the amount of about ten thousand dollars.
    
    Darko, hesitant at first soon gave in to my constant petitions to visit him.  The day I brought them both to JFK to return to Serbia permanently, Bojana whispered something in Darko’s ear as we hugged saying our goodbyes all three of trying to hold back tears of parting and Darko looking me in the eye said something to the effect, “Jill, don’t worry as soon as you can afford it call me and we’ll arrange your visit.� Darko never could stand to see me cry which on many occasion I did owing to the loss of my two children and other personal challenges in my life.  They turned and boarded their plane to Belgrade as I drove back to New Jersey.  Driving home I felt an odd combination of extreme sadness at the loss of my two best friends mixed with the cheerful prospect I would shortly be boarding a plane myself destined for Serbia and Montenegro by mid August 2002 when my student loan check arrived.  Upon arriving home I immediately began making all necessary arrangements for my forthcoming trip. 
    
    The day following Darko ‘s departure, I bought a great many  prepaid phone cards for the purpose of calling him owing to both my missing him and also my primarily wanting to began making all necessary arrangements facilitating my forthcoming visit from JFK to Beograd.  I had countless questions such as: how much money will I need, how will I obtain a VISA being an American citizen with all the US State Department warnings against US citizenry traveling to the region, etc., etc., etc..  I had already obtained a valid United States passport many years ago which I always carried with me.  I’ve always held the strong opinion that having a valid passport with you at all times is just a good idea.  It enables one the necessary freedom to go to the airport and catch a plane going anywhere at anytime. 
    
        Darko told me that I need not worry about all the complicated VISA requirements listed on Serbian government website required of other Americans  that he would handle everything.  I was told merely to bring with me about five thousand United States dollars in cash spending money and it was a done deal.  I went to buy some new suitcases and clothes for my trip in Wayne, New Jersey during the first two weeks in August 2002 in preparation.  Packing was always a problem for me as Darko can attest to owing to my medically diagnosed attention deficit disorder.  I had a difficult time deciding what to bring, so I tried to bring everything I thought I needed.  The day of my departure my suitcases weighed way over the weight limit restrictions indicated by the airline.
    
    Getting to JFK for departure in mid August 2002 proved to be an almost insurmountable task in and of itself owing to my heavy luggage and everyone I asked to drop me at the airport that day had strongly held views against my going.  Arnold Stark declined to bring me owing to his personal jealousies insofar as Darko and everyone else had one or another excuse rooted in the anti-American sentiment in Serbia at that time and danger involved.  
    Undeterred, I finally convinced Archbishop John LoBue, my priest and confessor at the Holy Name Orthodox Christian Church in West Milford, New Jersey to take me as far as the Port Authority in Manhattan; from there I took a bus to JFK managing myself.
    
    Post 9/11, JFK was supposedly safe beyond reproach insofar as security; this proved untrue.  I had not traveled outside America in many years so I was unfamiliar with the new travel restrictions on such items as nail scissors etc., being illegal to bring onboard flights and carried several very sharp ones right passed JFK security inspection inside my purse on board out of my own ignorance of new flight rules.  It was not until I arrived on my stopover in Paris, France that I was boarding onto a JAT (Yugoslav Air Travel) flight for Belgrade that the security officer of JAT told me that he had to confiscate the aforementioned items owing to new security precautions implemented post 9/11. 
    
    I informed him upon boarding my initial flight at JFK in New York, the security guards at the gate allowed me to board my flight to Paris carrying them in my purse.  The JAT security employee merely shook his head in amazement mentioning something insofar as his seriously questioning American security in general stating that Jugosalv Air Travel obviously took airline and passenger security much more seriously.  
    
    I loved flying JAT!  Not only was I completely satisfied the flight from Paris to Belgrade was many times more secure since JAT searched boarding passengers more thoroughly than JFK, the hospitality, food and drink was excellent.  I say this owing to my being a well seasoned traveler having previously visited places such as Indonesia, Thailand and Hong Kong, etc..  It was extremely laid back on the flight.  People moved around switching seats and chatting with good friends and the  food was the best!  My favorite Serbian food and drink were served and all airline employees shoed me the highest level of hospitality.  I was extremely pleased with the professionalism and service on JAT I later began an online blog about it on Yahoo360.
    
    
    
    Upon my flight arriving in Beograd, all passengers left the plane in the usual manner except Serbian citizens were shuffled through customs quickly merely showing their passport.  All others including myself were asked to relinquish their passports and told to wait an unspecified amount of time in a holding area at the airport.  An airport security officer went around confiscating our passports afterward leaving us merely standing there not knowing what to expect next.  No other announcements were made; I did the only thing possible I relinquished my passport to the Serbian custom official along with the other western Europeans and/or Americans (if there were any) which I surmised like myself were attempting to enter Serbia from countries that were NATO allies in the Kosovo war against Slobodan Milosevic in 1999.  There must have been about twenty persons with me just waiting. 
    
    All types of nagging thoughts plagued me such as “perhaps my friends were correct that I ought not have taken this trip…was it really too dangerous to travel to Serbia with all the anti-American sentiment and what would happen if Serbian customs decided I was an American spy, kept my passport and I ended in some unknown jail and/or murdered….who would find me…what could I do about it etc., etc., etc..�
    
    It seemed nearly an hour passed; me and the others were still standing there waiting.  I didn’t want to seem scared or overly curious by asking either Serbian custom officials or anyone else waiting with me anything as to not cause unnecessary attention to myself.  I also kept checking my watch wondering if Darko knew I was here waiting.  I had hoped with his government connections he would at least inquire about my arrival since he told me he would pick me up.  I drew comfort from the fact Darko was always very punctual picking up and bringing himself and others to airports.  On numerous occasions I gave him and others rides to and from them.  These and other thoughts plagued me when suddenly I heard a voice on the loud speaker call my name, Jill Starr, asking me to go to a customs area to claim my passport.  I was the first person called so I don’t know what happened to the others standing there still waiting.  I hurriedly went to obtain my passport and was told that I cleared; the guard pointed the direction for me to go claim my luggage.  You have no idea what a relief that was!
    
    I took in my new surroundings pleased that I made it into the country successfully.  As a young child my father took me with him traveling the world when he was an active nuclear engineering consultant for Chas T Main, USAID and the IMF.  I had been in Indonesia during the turmoil in East Timor so I was used to being in war zones surrounded by soldiers with guns.  I was presently older, but still I found such travel extremely exciting more than dangerous and looked forward to enjoying the rest of my vacation with Darko and Bojana.       
    
    Making it to the baggage claim area successfully I was relieved seeing Darko standing their waiting for me.  I was not fluent in Serbian and didn‘t want to publicize it by asking people questions in English manifesting I was American.  I hurried to him giving him a large hug.
    
    I was so glad to see Darko.  I noticed upon my arrival at the Belgrade airport that there were many female police officers equipped with guns wearing short mini skirts and extremely high heels.  I asked Darko how they apprehended criminals in such high heels and he replied smirking that they don’t have to run, they merely shot those not halting in the back and that stopped them.
    
    Like a dream come true, there I was in Beograd Serbia against all odds and complaints from my friends.  Darko helped me get my luggage to his friend’s vehicle telling me we could talk about everything I had to say later because we had to hurry.  Darko‘s friend, a German man living in Serbia for years and an important military employee of the Serbian government in a grayish older large SUV vehicle with what seemed a special license plate was impatiently waiting at the front gate of the airport for us.  Darko’s friend did not speak fluent English but he did speak fluent German and Serbian. Darko told him to help lift my luggage into the trunk in Serbian and he did.  Darko always liked to brag and as usual he introduced me to his friend giving me the details of his being an important man in the Serbian military etc.. We went straight from the Beograd airport to the home of Bojana’s family in the suburbs of Belgrade and all became reacquainted. 
    
    Bojana and I hugged; she introduced me to her family (father, mother and brother who was a high school student in Beograd).  
    Afterward, Darko showed me the room upstairs where I would sleep which was actually Bojana’s room also informing me of our three week itinerary; he had it all planned out.  Darko told me we would all spend the night over Bojana’s house, the next day sleep at his apartment outside Beograd and later explained the next day we would stop at his father’s family’s house for dinner and leave from there making our way into Montenegro for a ten day vacation staying at his friend’s resort on Budva’s seaside coast.  Along the way Darko told me he would give me the best tour I could ask for and he did.  He showed me military installations and one of my favorite stops was the NATO bombed Chinese embassy which I stood in front of only several yards from.  
    
    My night at Bojana’s residence was wonderful. I was never showed as much love and hospitality as I did from her family. Although it was late in the evening (about 11pm Serbian time) when we arrived, Bojana’s mother, a wonderful woman, treated me as her own daughter.  She insisted that Darko, Bojana and I enjoy what seemed a 10 course home cooked meal.  She was still cooking while she served us a variety of cooked steaks, vegetables and pastries. And like many Italian families she insisted I tried and ate everything.  To top the night off before bed Bojana and her father performed an accordion duet live in the kitchen for me.  Apparently, Bojana and her father were professional accordion players and Bojana explained that her father’s employment consisted of playing nightly in a local bar. Thereafter, we went to bed with full stomachs.
    
    The next morning we all enjoyed an equally exquisite breakfast.  Bojana’s family had livestock in the backyard and her mother cooked us a fresh eggs and steak for breakfast like never before experienced. We said our parting goodbyes and left for Darko’s apartment in the hills of Beograd.  We brought my suitcases in and upon entering I noticed there were lots of stray dogs around the apartment entrance.  One in particular was very cute and Darko explained that the various residents fed it because it was so adorable.  I found it interesting that so many old men were just hanging about the entrance to the apartment building drinking and just sitting there with seemingly nothing to do.  They remained there throughout my entire trip. 
    
    Even when Ratko Mladic came to see me on my final day in Serbia in full military regalia giving me a parting gift (a book he inscribed to me entitled Serbija) while Darko took pictures of Mladic with his arm around me, the men remained there merely looking like old bums. Retrospectively, I wonder if they weren’t some watchmen and/or guards. Unto this day I always wondered what Darko did with those photos.
    
    I was surprised what a very large apartment Darko owned.  He showed me into his guest room and I unpacked my suitcases in just enough time to inform me I was to consolidate all my truly necessary items for Montenegro into one small bag that would reasonably fit into his trunk in the morning because he needed enough room for his and Bojana’s luggage also.  He laughed at all the things I brought with me to Beograd telling me that I had no idea how to pack.  
    
    By the time I was done with that task Darko told me it was time to go meet some friends at a local café for coffee.  It was late summer and the outside café’s in Beograd were the best !  We met up with a few friends in some restaurant in Beograd; there was about five of us sitting there just chatting and drinking coffee when I noticed an older gentleman sitting a few seats down with feathered salt and pepper colored hair not saying much except for an occasional laugh and nod at us.  I wondered wherefore Darko a man about thirty would associate with such an older person, as for me being several years older than Darko, I thought to myself, what a cute guy.  Then upon closer inspection, I realized it was doctor Radovan Karadzic.  I knew he was a psychiatrist.  By no means was this to be our last meeting.  Throughout the time I spent in Serbia Darko met with Karadzic on many occasions in Beograd.  The meetings were usually brief; only to exchange oral information and/or a few papers with Darko and whisper something or other in Darko‘s ear.   He looks as the news media portrays him dressed in his gray wrinkled suit and tie and salt and pepper colored hair.  He was a perfect gentleman all times I met him with Darko. After finishing our coffee, Darko said we ought leave and get a good nights rest because we had to leave early the next day for Montenegro.
    
    
    
    The next morning we all got into Darko’s blue Audi (car) and left for his Father’s house.  I remember arguing with Darko about wanting to bring lots of luggage with me and he replied I didn’t need all that stuff and I could only bring one normal sized bag with me and I had to leave the rest of my things at his apartment; I did. On the way to his father’s, Darko made a few important stops for the purpose of giving me the grand tour. We only stopped briefly at some military installations; we didn’t get out of the car.  We drove up to the gates and Darko pointed out, “look Jill, this is an important military facility.�  Darko always sarcastically smirked as he pointed out these places to me.  The only place we got out was in front of the bombed out Chinese embassy in Beograd.  There were Serbian military officers in front of the embassy.  I was amazed owing to I always had thought bombed out buildings were totally demolished.  But standing in front of the Chinese embassy that was bombed by the NATO in 1999 taught me the definition of a “smart bomb.� 
    
    
    Only the portion of the building hosting the embassy employees on the upper level of the building itself was demolished and in particular the window where the Chinese embassy officials worked.  I could see in the window and I even got a sad glimpse of the Victorian styled chair sitting there empty in the bombed out window.  I wondered who used to sit there and if they were dead or alive. No other parts of the building was seriously damaged.  There were even flowers and trees still growing untouched in front of the building.  I strongly believe that NATO knew exactly what they aimed at when they bombed the building.  
    
    I brought a digital camera with me on my trip but upon returning to the United States, all the film Darko claimed to snap for me was returned by my local film developer as blank.  I wondered if Darko told me the truth about snapping photos for me at all.  Throughout my trip he insisted on taking all the photos I wanted claiming I take poor pictures.  It since crossed my mind he may have removed the film from my camera prior my departing Serbia so I could not take it back with me.  One thing I am sure of  is both Darko and Bojana refused having any photos taken of them throughout my entire stay.
    
    After leaving the scene at the Chinese embassy, we made our way to the home of Darko’s father driving through a beautiful park not dissimilar to Central Park in Manhattan along the way.  I can’t be certain what park it was because I didn’t know the geographical area; we soon arrived at our destination.  Darko’s father lived in the most incredibly beautiful green hills in an area of Serbia existing somewhere between Beograd and Montenegro.  Immediately upon entering and meeting his father, stepmother and grandmother who recently passed away, I felt part of the family.  Although his family did not speak English, Darko and Bojana translated for me. 
    
     Darko’s grandmother was an extraordinarily warm and wise woman in whose presence I felt comfortable and happy the entire time.  Before dinner there was the customary libation of grappa (a Serbian hard liquor of incredible potency).  If only I could find grappa here in America.  After another dinner that would give Manhattan’s top chefs a run for their money,  Darko brought me upstairs into a guest room to take a nap.
    
    I told him I was not tired but he insisted I nap saying we would be driving all night before reaching Montenegro and I need my rest.  I must have slept an hour before he awakened me to say our parting goodbyes and begin our journey.  I was extremely excited; Darko promised me a three week Adriatic holiday allowing me swimming privileges at every beach from Hercegovni to an area he said was only ten meters from Kosovo’s border.  We couldn’t go into Kosovo Darko said because it was too dangerous.  I knew Darko had been shot several times and almost killed in Kosovo previously so I didn’t push the issue. As a former lifeguard and avid swimmer, I couldn‘t wait for my vacation to start and Darko delivered it to me as promised.  
    
    The onset of our journey began at sunset; still adjusting to the time zone differential I dozed off in Darko’s backseat; for how long I’m uncertain.  I dozed on and off until sunrise when we reached the Montenegrin border.  I mean, there wasn’t much to see driving in the dark cover of night.  The wider well lit highway we initially set out upon gradually narrowed as the highway lights became fewer.  Eventually there were no highway lights at all.  My body continuously shifted from one side of Darko’s backseat to the other making sleep difficult. 
    It was obvious the road we traversed was analogous to Pacific Coast Highway in California driving through Big Sur.  It was mountainous, dangerously ridden with hairpin turns and no guardrails.  In Montenegro, inexperienced travelers could almost mistake the scenery for Big Sur with the beautiful blue Adriatic sea hugging the bottoms of the cliffs we not so cautiously traveled.  I asked Darko to slow down because he was driving like speed racer.  He replied not to worry explaining he could drive these roads blindfolded he knew them well.  I thought to myself, better safe than sorry buddy.  It is a good thing I had some prescription Xanax with me, I popped one, maybe two just to relax while simultaneously trying to hide this act from Darko since he hated drugs in general.  He especially hated my taking the prescription medications my doctor gave me saying I didn’t need them, they were addicting and poison.  He also strongly disdained cigarettes; Bojana smoked covertly. 
    
    The sun was just rising when Darko awakened me excitedly pointing out the tunnel we were driving through.  I think he said at the other end we’d be entering Montenegro.  Driving to the Budva Riviera in Montenegro we drove through some similar tunnels; the scenery was unbelievably breathtaking.  There is no other place in the world I’d rather be than in Budva Montenegro and I recommend everyone vacation there.  We were making our way to a seaside resort a friend of Darko owned.  Still driving like speed racer around the hairpin turns and mountainous cliffs compromising the road, we finally arrived at our destination safely.  I admit Darko is an excellent driver; his driving is reminiscent of agent 007 in James Bond movies.
    
        Because of the Kosovo war, there was not one functional  ATM in either in Serbia and Montenegro.  To be safe I split the five thousand dollars we had between Darko and I.  I held onto half and he the other.  One of my favorite stories I tell people of my trip is how I swam with my money throughout the trip; it made me feel secure always keeping some cash on me at all times; even when I was swimming a quarter mile out in the Adriatic sea.  Darko told me not to; I did anyway.  
    
    
    
    Owing to that, the cash I held was often wet.  One particular time we went to a bank in Montenegro.  The banks there are so remarkably careful of counterfeiting, they refused exchanging my United States dollars for Euros because my money was wet; the three of us returned to the hotel using my blow dryer to evaporate the dollar bills until dried.  The three of us henceforth joked about this saying we laundered the money.     
    
    Upon arriving at the resort, Darko introduced me to his friend and we worked out the financial gratuities for our stay.  We paid him eight hundred United States dollars for ten days; meals included.  Unlike hotels in America, meals meant an extremely large home cooked breakfast consisting of large varieties of meat, coffee and juice.  Lunch and dinner consisted of many course meals where main dishes consisted of either freshly caught seafood or meat.  Our accommodation consisted of two medium sized rooms with separate entrances; one for myself and another for Darko and Bojana.  To reach the beach we only needed to walk across the street and down a small path; one could see Italy at the other end of the horizon on a clear day.  I was ecstatic loving to swim.  Since Bojana didn’t swim, Darko couldn’t always accompany me to the beach so I‘d just walk to it myself for periodic swims throughout the day; August was a very hot month.  Of any country I’ve visited, Serbia and Montenegro wins my top prize for fun, food, beauty and hospitality.  Everyone is friendly, warm, the atmosphere is relaxed and laid back and most persons speak some English owing to children learning English as a second language in school at a young age.  Unfortunately, American school children do not grow up learning another language other than native English which leaves them I feel at an intellectual disadvantage. 
    
            Each day Darko took us to another beach for a day enjoying food, drink, music, perhaps some shopping and primarily, swimming.  As long as I could swim for hours each day I was happy.  By the time nighttime rolled in all of us were so tired each day we usually had dinner and retired early, except for one night.  This just happened to be the one night of my entire vacation I was overly exhausted wanting to retire early at any cost.  Inversely, this was the one evening both Darko and Bojana incredibly excited informed me to take a shower, dress and get ready for a big surprise.  
    
    
    When I asked Darko what this surprise was and its great importance being I was so tired; he merely insisted I go get ready for it.  Darko was always very bossy in my estimation constantly telling us when to sleep, awakening Bojana and I up early, limiting our time before breakfast for dressing, blow drying our hair etc. which the two of us always complained about privately to each other.  I always accepted this as part of his personality but this night it annoyed me to no end; I simply wanted sleep, surprise or not.  As usual I gave into to Darko’s demands by hurrying to my room, showering, changing, and preparing myself for a night out.  If you’re a woman, you understand when you have a crush on someone as I did Darko, you usually give into his demands easily; so I did.    
    
    Upon changing, Dark and Bojana were waving me to hurry to the car;  exhausted I got in and slammed the door.  Less than ten minutes up the pitch black road Darko pulled the car over and we got out.  Darko and Bojana said, “Hurry Jill look down there.�  At the bottom of the cliffs was the most beautiful city of lights I’ve ever seen.  Darko said proudly, “this is Budva Jill, that‘s where we are going.�  It was many times more beautiful that Paris or Manhattan at night and situated in a valley about a mile and a half wide forcing the Montenegrin peninsula farther out.  It was a remarkably amazing sight, Budva itself being lit up with a wide variety of bright lights surrounded by an aura of pitch black.  By this time Bojana started complaining to Darko to move his car in more because someone may come around the sharp turn in the darkness sideswiping it.  Darko never worried much about illegal parking or his speed limit owing to whenever getting pulled over, he just made manifest to the officer his huge governmental badge and they let him go;  the badge was at least three times larger than the usual American police officer badge and was gold in color.       
    
    Darko became annoyed with Bojana’s complaints so we returned to the car, got in and descended about five minutes down the treacherously dark road into Budva and parked.  I couldn’t believe it! It was like a dream,  We walked down around Budva, Darko pointing out everything.  
    
    We stopped to have a drink at one of the many outdoor bar/café’s and listened to the live entertainment while we sipped our drinks.    Then I went to buy another bathing suit at a small shop when Darko told me to follow him and Bojana into the most amazing bar I’ve ever seen, anywhere in the world.  The bar itself was actually a small island rocky island;  to reach it one had to walk underground maybe a little less than one quarter mile.   Upon entering the bar it had many levels; all outside surrounded by the roaring nighttime surf of the sea and live entertainment. I saw a few people illegally swimming and asked Darko if I could swim there too.  He informed me the swimming was closed for the evening.  We ordered  drinks and sat there chilling for a while.  On the walk back Darko showed me all the gambling casinos along the Riviera.  It looked like anyone could get whatever they wanted in Budva if they had the correct amount of money with them.  Montenegro was to me akin to a luxurious playground for the ultra rich, famous as well as infamous.  We then walked back via way of the tunnel, stopped at a small outdoor restaurant all ordering a type of delicious pancake we enjoyed by dipping it in chocolate syrup and drove back to the hotel to get some rest.
    
    The next day Darko took merely us to another gorgeous beach.  It was reminiscent of Greece.  The water was sapphire blue, clear and warm.  The beach itself was not large, but completely hidden by huge rocky cliffs.  The three of us took a kind of small craft about a quarter of a mile out into the Adriatic; Darko and I jumped in for a swim.  Bojana was partially nude sunbathing at the time on the boat and since she was unable to swim, Darko teased her by stealing her clothes, pretending not to give them back to her.  She immediately became upset demanding Darko return her clothes;  Darko soon complied with her demands.  Thereafter, we ended the day with lunch and drinks.  The following day was one of my vacation high points.  We visited the Ostrog monastery.    
    
    Driving to the Ostrog monastery was long, hot and boring.  It lied somewhere deep beyond the Montenegrin coastline inland.  We drove a long windy road without even so much as a store on it.  After a couple of hours, Darko stopped for lunch at the only restaurant I noticed the entire trip.  You’d think it would be small being situated in the middle of what I considered, “nowhere.�  However, this was not the case.
    
    There was actually a long line and tons of people there having lunch.  I could only imagine like us they were on their way to visit Ostrog.  The restaurant itself was classy and I can only liken it to seeing a luxurious restaurant in the middle of the Mohave desert.  While I was visiting Ostrog monastery in Montenegro, Darko introduced me to a Serbian priest asking me if I wanted confession. The man looked almost verbatim to Karadzic in his monks getup. I mean the way the latest news photos of Karadzic in his monk getup looks.  I only became cognizant of this recently since the photos of him since his arrest have been made publicly manifest. In particular I remember the priest’s large darker curl on the top of this priest’s head like in the recent Karadzic photos; I wondered who would make their monks hair like that. This priest blessed me and told Darko in Serbian he could not hear my confession owing to his not understanding English well. He gave me a gift, a book about the monastery itself which I gave to Archbishop John LoBue in West Milford (my priest).   
    
    While visiting Ostrog, we venerated the holy relics leaving an offering of either food or money at the door leading to the holy relics; I can’t remember which now.  Leaving, we looked around the gift shop, had coffee at the small Ostrog monastery café  and Darko gave me a tour where the monks sleep and shower.  Then we made the long drive back to the hotel.  We had the usual dinner at which time Bojana was overcome with a terrible toothache.  I told her I’d pay for the filling tomorrow; Darko knew a dentist 10 meter from Kosovo‘s border.  Tomorrow we‘d swim there and have Bojana‘s tooth looked at.  The town we went to the next day possessed an ethnic Albanian majority and organized crime was everywhere.    
    
    Before retiring for the evening I went for a small walk around the corner from the hotel to buy some snacks; there was a small store there.  I never felt endangered at any time by anyone.  During my stay in Montenegro I walked to the store myself almost daily buying drinks and other items I could enjoy privately in my room at night.  I never noticed previously to that evening’s walk just how many persons actually were vacationing from Western Europe in Budva the fall 2002 like me.  
    
    
    After promenading to the store, upon returning to the hotel, a German man sitting outside the hotel and speaking in broken English introduced himself.  When I told him that I was from New Jersey in the United States he became extremely interested and warmly said he is pleased I was able to enjoy the area.  I replied, “I was tired and needed to retire.� Saying he understood he returned to his card game.
    
    We had the usual dinner at which time Bojana was overcome with a terrible toothache.  I told her I’d pay for the filling tomorrow; Darko knew a dentist ten meters from Kosovo‘s border.  Tomorrow we‘d swim there and have Bojana‘s tooth looked at.  The town we went to the next day possessed an ethnic Albanian majority and organized crime was everywhere.    
    
    We awoke early as to get Bojana to the dentist.  This is actually where the Montenegrin bank had refused to exchange our money for Euros.  Managing cash was difficult in Serbia and Montenegro owing to that the national currency in Serbia was still dinars and in Montenegro it was Euros.  Most businessman preferred either Euros or American dollars, but one never knew which.
    
    Upon parking, Darko led the way down the busy street towards the dentist who I remember being an ethnic Albanian man.  Apparently, they visited this dentist previously and he was extremely friendly.  Not at any time did any ethnic Albanians cause me, Darko or Bojana any problems because I was American and they were Serb.  The dentist was going to take a while and since the bank would not exchange our American dollars for Euros, we could buy neither lunch nor anything else and we all possessed a ravenous hunger for lunch.
    
    Ignoring Darko’s warnings not to go wondering myself, I left the dentist office under the pretense of going for a walk while Bojana had her dental work completed.  Before Darko could catch me I was gone.  I walked up the main street about one mile and began asking people in English where I could exchange United States currency for Euros.  I came upon a well dressed ethnic Albanian high school student, a girl speaking perfect English who told me to walk up the street about another half mile and when I see men selling the cigarettes outside on a bridge table, ask them to do the deed; I did.  
    
    The girl asked me about America saying her greatest wish was to study in New York City one day.  When I told her about my experience at the New School for Social Research, being dismissed for my anti NATO views on the Kosovo war she replied to me, “maybe she was wrong about wanting to study in Manhattan.�
    
    I made my way to the table with about five ethnic Albanian men hanging about selling cigarettes and asked them in English if they could exchange money for me; they did.  They were definitely organized crime.  They took my wet cash, examined the bills, one man walked into an apartment building with my cash while I merely waited.  He didn‘t rob me and returned with my Euros.  Surprisingly,  I found everyone in both Serbia and Montenegro very honorable in their business dealings; even if those dealings are organized crime.
    
    Upon receiving my Euros from the men, I walked away back to see if Bojana was through with the dentist; she was.  I excitedly told Darko that I had successfully managed to exchange American dollars for Euros thinking he’d be pleased with me; he wasn’t.  Darko was always very protective of me.  Instead of commending me he immediately got very angry; scolding me he said exchanging money illegally in the streets of Montenegro was both illegal and dangerous.  You can’t change the past so I diplomatically apologized and Darko soon forgot his anger I lieu of the fact that now we all could have lunch.  Afterward, Darko brought us to a beautiful beach nearby.  The majority of the sunbathers were ethnic Albanian and again no one  harassed us based on our ethnicity.  I tried pushing Darko into driving into Kosovo but he flatly refused.  I found it interesting that the international news at this time was reporting that there were hundreds of thousands of homeless ethnic Albanians being ethnically cleansed to Albania, I did not see one ethnic Albanian or Roma homeless on the streets anywhere. All seemed normal only ten meters from the Kosovo border.  After a day of swimming and partially nude sunbathing, we returned to the hotel.
    
    Insofar as sequence of events, at this junction in time it was the last few days I spent in Montenegro; it’s difficult now to remember the exact timeline of events.  In other words, I remember visiting Old Town  and Podgorica also in Montenegro but uncertain of which locations we visited first.  During the last two days, Darko took me one day to Old Town in Montenegro for dinner; there we greatly enjoyed an expensive seafood meal after which we walked around.  Darko got a parking ticket that night in Old Town and greatly complained about its five dollar fee;  for some, five dollars is equal to an entire week pay in Serbia.  I think I offered him the five dollars for the ticket feeling guilty because it was only for my benefit he parked there at all.  Darko wanted to show me Old Town; he already knew what the beautiful cobble stone streets looked like.      
    
    We also went to the Montenegrin capital, Podgorica.  I really don’t remember much of Podgorica except for walking around the streets one night.  Since we didn’t swim there so it wasn’t a high point for me.  When our ten day stay in Montenegro was finished we all packed and returned the way we came in Darko’s car.  The day before we left, Darko’s car required maintenance.  We didn’t have enough cash on hand left to pay for the needed repairs so I called Arnold Stark, my fiancée in the states, asking him to please wire us five hundred dollars cash to Montenegro; he did.  This is a fact that Arnold himself can verify being that he alone possesses the charge card receipt for wiring us the money through Western Union to a town not far from Budva.  With Darko’s car repairs complete, we returned home for Beograd.
    
    On the way back to Beograd we made two more important stops. 
    
  28. Kridel Lawfirm (Clifton, New Jersey) Bribes Andre Chapman (JIll’s Ex-Husband) & Brant Snell for False Statements Against Her/COMPARATIVE ANALYSIS: WHEREBY MLADIC & KARADZIC TREATED ME WEST MILFORD DETECTIVES HARRY SHORTWAY & PETER VAN GILST

    I ask the New Jersey attorney general to disbar: Kridel Law Group in Clifton, New Jersey Contact Information Phone: 973-470-0800 Fax: 973-472-1909

    I originally requested the lawfirm be disbarred from practicing law in the state of New Jersey back when I was attending William Paterson College in New Jersey prior to 1997.

    http://eu4uyuedje.blogspot.com/ (Original Source Website Blog)

    It is public information any national news media group in America can prove beyond any doubt, by merely asking for it at the local Pompton Lakes New Jersey Court Clerk:

    1) James A. Kridel Esq., his lawfirm, the West Milford Prosecutor (at that time between 1991-1997), my former landlord from whom I rented an apartment from, Brant Snell, his brother (joint owner of Snell’s property in Bloomingdale NJ, along with Harry Shortway and the West Milford Police Force, committed bribery, conspired to commit extortion with malicious intent against me, and also committed physical acts of terroristic threats against me at the Snell’s residence I rented.

    2) This occurred when the West Milford police responded to a phone call emanating from Brant Snell and arrived outside my apartment. I had also called them simultaneously because Brant Snell and his brother were threatening me all day attempting to get me to leave my apartment; neither men filed legal eviction procedings agsainst me.

    4) Sgt, Laughlin and co-conspiritors arrived on the scene proceding to cut my phone line at the Snell’s, then proceeding to threaten me outside my apartment. The police on the scene included red haired Sgt. Laughlin formerly beating my head against his squad car in West Milford NJ when taking custody of my two children from me giving custody to my ex husband, Andre Chapman.

    All men involved i nthis incident malicously intended endangering my life, reputation and well being; they sucessed. They also succeeded causing irreparable and permanant emotional harm forever to my two children now adults; my son currently having a son of his own.

    Both men, my ex-husband Andre Chapman along with former landlord Brant Snell admitted their guilt openly in Pompton Lakes Court before the presiding judge then.

    Andre Chapman, my ex husband admitted committing this vile crime against me and my two children to gain continunal custody rights over my two children at that time, and, Brant Snell for wanting to evict me from my apartment because I would not have sex with him when I was a student at that time when I rented from him. And, owing to my police report I filed stating the truth: that he illegally entered my upstairs apartment from his house attempting on numerous occasion to have sexual relations with me and abuse me against my will through intimidation. Brant Snell also refused to allow me to lock my upstairs apartment and entered at his own will for several nights.

    Harry Shortway told me he strongly suspected Brant Snell and his friend from Vernon NJ having to do with the Vernon New Jersey rapist/murders that occured at, Waywayanda State Park in West Milford NJ. Harry Shortway asked me to see what evidence I could get to him against Snell from my apartment leading up to his attic. I did and it was very suspicous. Snell kept old newspaper clippings of the rapes and murders etc.. Shortway never arrested either man. SNell’s friend even told me he was up at the Waywaynda Park harrassing women at that time.

    The judge fined my ex husband, warning both men and Kridel himself.

    The NJ State Attorney General then, completely ignored my complaints afterwhich. I drove to Fort Dix Military Base complaining to the internal affairs officer who told me that Harry Shortway was affiliated with too powerful an organization for him to do anyting to help me.

    The Kridel lawfirm was allowed to continue practicing their so-called “law� in the state of NJ.

    More to Come on them but I was slandered forever and my reputation ruined because my ex husband had told Kridel lawfirm that “My Wife Jill Starr has a gun and she will use it.�

    I never did and it was a lie! And they wanted to either kill me and/or prove I was too unstable mentally to stand before the Int’l Criminal Court for Serbia (?) Obviously YES!

    I admit often wondering in the post 1999 Kosovo environment when and if: Bill Clinton will send the NATO to the west milford municipal building for committing agregeous violations of human rights and genocide against jews and blacks in the State of NJ and in Passaic County in general.

    Now that my articles can be proven by court transcripts. I AWAIT MY MONETARY SETTLEMENT! I cannot come fast enough. When Harry Shortway became andry at me because my ex husband threatened to turn him and his gang into authorities for dealing cocaine in the Highcrest Lake area of West Milford the West Milford Police all of a sudden decided they would try me on about 10 traffic tickets. I was forced to come to the municipal building for the case.

    My ex husband new about the cocaine dealing in conjunction with te West Milford Police department because he was living a Treetop Apartments during the time my family moved there when I met my ex husband back when I attended Walter T Bergen School in Bloomingdale NJ as a young 13 year old girl. My husband was into drugs and bought cocaine from Shanahan a former West Milford Police Officer involved and thrown off the force for cocaine dealing. Apparently my ex husband told me that Harry Shortway was invovled in dealing drugs to my ex husband and his friends back at Treetop during those days.

    Jill Starr members.fortunecity… Feb 19 2009 bloomingdale, United States

    Harry Shortway originally became angry with me because my ex husband threatened to turn him and his associates into internal affairs Mr. Sorchinski (alias Zoro in the West Milford Police Force of Internal Affairs up there then) for dealing cocaine in the Highcrest Lake area of West Milford.

    Thereafter, the West Milford Police all of a sudden decided they would try me on about 10 traffic tickets. I was homeless then because they threw me out of my home, gave custody rights of my two children and assisted my ex husband in throwing ALL my property and clothing in the local garbage; even though the Paterson Domestic Violence Courts at that time gave me a court order to have the West Milford Police assist me and help me get my property out of the house I had lived in at Highcrest saftly. In any event, they (West Milford Courts) forced to come to the municipal building for the case.

    My ex husband new about the cocaine dealing in conjunction with the West Milford Police department because he was living a Treetop Apartments during the time my family moved there when I met my ex husband back, and, when I attended Walter T Bergen School in Bloomingdale NJ as a young 13 year old girl. My husband was into drugs and bought cocaine from Shanahan a former West Milford Police Officer involved and thrown off the police force for cocaine dealing at Treetop Apartments.

    My ex husband, ANdre Chapman told me he threatened Harry Shortway because he was jealous I thought he was �cute� and Andre Chapman told me that Harry Shortway was involved in dealing drugs to my ex husband and his friends back at Treetop during those days when I was a yong girl.

    The West Milford Prosecutor also used a court protected document i.e., my Passaic County Diagnostic Exam in the traffic violations case against me which he later dropped at once when I pointed out it made him in �Contempt of Cort’ in the case for handling it and even for looking at that document which was only allowed for viewing by either myself or my attorneys in my custody case.


    COMPARATIVE ANALYSIS: WHEREBY MLADIC & KARADZIC TREATED ME WEST MILFORD DETECTIVES HARRY SHORTWAY & PETER VAN GILST

    Wednesday, April 15, 2009 Comparing Whereby Karadzic & Mladic Treate Me W/NJ Deteecties Harry SHarry Shortway, Pete Van Gilst, Sorchinski Could Face Murder Charges Sources Sa Thursday, April 2, 2009 Harry Shortway, Pete Van Gilst, Sorchinski Could Face Murder Charges Sources Say>>

    The Instablog.Com website administration today stated on my blog account, I am no longer authorized to submit articles for some unknown reason. I surmise the reason may be I’m submitting too many articles at once. Hence, I opened an additional account just so I could post this follow up comment on my previously written article entitled, Comparing West Milford Detectives in New Jersey to the Treatment Received By Karadzic and Mladic in Serbia.

    Please read it.

    It is an extremely important legal case I am submitting to the Hague Court in the Netherlands as an individual complainant from here in the United States of America. I hope it will set an international precedent even in America people are abused by government officers.

    I am fully convinced after almost a decade of asking the legal governmental authorities at local, state and federal levels here in the United States of America to arrest and try Detective Harry Shortway and his Sgt. Laughlin in a court of law in America for attempting to murder me and moreover physically and emotionally torturing me and my family in 1990/1991,

    it is clear,

    the United States of America is either unwilling OR incapable of taking the bold moral measures to arrest Harry Shortway and associates giving him a fair trial here in America similarly to what American diplomats such as Hillary Clinton accuse Serbia of not submitting General Mladic to the Hague for trial.

    Hypocritical America, don’t you agree (?)

    This makes a mockery of genuine ideals insofar as human rights in America while manifesting extremely gross violations of human rights against me as well as attempted genocide committed against me by Harry Shortway (on account of allegedly wanting to kill me because I derive from a Jewish family background and was then married to a black on account of his fascist affiliations with the National Alliance KKK group). These crimes against me occurred only thirty minutes away from the United Nations Security Council in Manhattan; I, Jill Starr am an American citizen and previously wrote the UN about this in the early 1990s.

    All together now let’s remember the crime of ‘genocide’ in and of itself, can be the attempt to kill one OR thousands of members of any ethnic, religious group.

    More to come on this story.

    I AM OFFERING A FINANCIAL REWARD FOR ANY AND ALL INFORMATION LEADING TO CAPTURE AND ARREST OF DETECTIVE HARRY SHORTWAY FORMER WEST MILFORD NEW JERSEY DETECTIVE AND HIS SGT. LAUGHLIN AND ASSOCIATES:

    1) SGT. LAUGHLIN (IS A TALL RED HAIRED MAN OVER 6 FEET IN HEIGHT AND SLIM BUILD- HE IS NOT VERY INTELLIGENT).

    SGT. LAUGHLIN WAS LAST SEEN BY ME IN BACK OF RYAN MACHINE COMPANY IN THE DRIVEWAY OF THE HOUSE I USED TO RENT WITH MY FAMILY OFF MACOPIN ROAD IN WEST MILFORD NEW JERSEY YANKING ME BY MY LONG HAIR AND BANGING MY HEAD AGAINST HIS POLICE CAR WHILE HIS ROCKIE PARTNER COP WATCHED. THEN HE SHOVED ME INTO HIS POLICE CAR IN HANDCUFFING WHICH HE CONTINUED TIGHTENING AGAINST MY WRISTS TILL THEY BEGAN BLEEDING IN PAIN WHILE I CRIED OUT IN AGONY AND TEARS FOR HIM TO STOP; HE WOULD NOT STOP AND CONTINUE LAUGHING WHILE HE DROVE ME TO UP TO SEE SHORTWAY WHO WAS WAITING FOR ME AT THE WEST MILFORD POLICE STATION.

    I AM OFFERING A FINANCIAL REWARD FOR ANY AND ALL INFORMATION LEADING TO CAPTURE AND ARREST OF DETECTIVE HARRY SHORTWAY FORMER WEST MILFORD NEW JERSEY DETECTIVE AND HIS SGT. LAUGHLIN AND ASSOCIATES:

    1) SGT. LAUGHLIN (IS A TALL RED WAVY HAIRED MAN OVER 6 FEET IN HEIGHT AND SLIM BUILD- HE IS NOT VERY INTELLIGENT).

    SGT. LAUGHLIN WAS LAST SEEN BY ME IN BACK OF RYAN MACHINE COMPANY IN THE DRIVEWAY OF THE HOUSE I USED TO RENT IN HIGHCREST LAKE COMMUNITY WITH MY FAMILY OFF MACOPIN ROAD IN WEST MILFORD NEW JERSEY YANKING ME BY MY LONG HAIR AND BANGING MY HEAD AGAINST HIS POLICE CAR ABOUT TEN TIMES NONSTOP WHILE HIS ROCKIE PARTNER COP STOOD THERE DOING NOTHING MERELY WATCHING ME BE ABUSED.

    THEN SGT LAUGHLIN SHOVED ME INTO HIS POLICE CAR IN HANDCUFFS WHICH HE CONTINUED TIGHTENING AGAINST MY WRISTS TILL THEY BEGAN BLEEDING IN PAIN WHILE I CRIED OUT IN AGONY AND TEARS FOR HIM TO STOP; HE WOULD NOT STOP AND CONTINUED LAUGHING WHILE HE DROVE ME TO UP TO SEE SHORTWAY WHO WAS WAITING FOR ME AT THE WEST MILFORD POLICE STATION.

    THIS FINANCIAL REWARD IS CONTINGENT UPON ANY FINANCIAL SETTLEMENT I MAY RECEIVE IN THE FUTURE FROM THE THREE GRADUATE SCHOOLS FORMERLY DISCRIMINATING AGAINST ME IN THE MOST VILE MANNERS IN THE NJ AND NYC AREAS.

    I WILL OFFER SPLIT EQUITABLE FINANCIAL REWARD OF 50% OF ANY MONEY I RECEIVE TO THOSE AGENCIES AND/OR INDIVIDUALS COURAGEOUS ENOUGH TO HELP BRING THESE RUTHLESS DETECTIVES AND THEIR SGT’S TO JUSTICE AND JAIL.

    AND, IF AMERICAN CANNOT FIND THE MORAL AND POLITICAL WILLPOWER TO BRING THEM TO JUSTICE AND TRIAL HERE IN THE USA, I WANT THEM EXTRADITED TO THE HAGUE ICC COURT.

    In friendship and diplomacy my reputation for honesty proceeds me so all interested persons and/or parties in helping me bring Shortway and his Sgt Laughlin from West Milford NJ to trial at teh Hague,

    can rest assured I will uphold my end of the reward agreement shall I receive financial settlement myself from the aforementioned colleges in the near future.

    lpcyusa said…

    I Felt many Times Safer With General Ratko Mladic Than I Do Sitting Alone In My Apartment In Bloomingdale, NJ USA

    As an after thought on my book. I doubt very much that I met Mr. Mladic on a �baor restaurant.� There was no one else present having dinner.

    It as more like a living and/or conference setting and seems to me now to be more like a private yacht. I have never really been on one before but it reminded me of photos I’ve seen of the interior of Onassis’s yachts.

    I felt many times more safer sitting with General Ratko Mladic Than I Do Sitting At Home In My Apartment In Bloomingdale, NJ US!

    Although it may sound foreign to many here in America, I would feel safer having the Serbian Army as my bodyguards here at my house in Bloomingdale, NJ where I rent a small apartment to protect me from the local townships’ corrupt law enforcement officials and if I had teh finances I hire a few.

    Jill Starr I grew up traveling the world with my parents at age 7. I remember being on the island of Java in 1970/71 going swimming in the pool at Hotel InterContinentel surrounded by armed soldiers; and, and flying over Vietnam and my father pointing out “look Jill we are flying over Vietnam now…” with my Mom. The interesting thing was no commercial airlines flew over Vietnam unti. about one decade ago and certainly not in the 1970s. Sports: Water polo, Soccer Recreation: Partying, Travel Tags: reading, travel, children, swimming, music, college, writing, environment, new jersey, philosophy, culture, sociology, new york, ecology, china, peace, theatre, america, social justice, theology, war, human rights, endangered species, indonesia, russia, romania, political science, united nations, ideology, news media, war crimes, fairness, preventive diplomacy, crimes against humanity, serbia, kosovo, montenegro, edcuation, west milford, bloomingdale, mediation techniques James Bond type films.

    View my complete profile http://mladickaradzicshortwaystudy.blogspot.com/2009/04/comparing-whereby-karadzic-mladic.html 11:48 AM 5/12/2009

    COMPARE HOW MLADIC AND KARADZIC TREATED ME WITH THAT OF AMERICAN DETECTIVES IN WEST MILFORD NJ->

    Neither Mladli nor Karadzic touched me in any manner maliciously UNLIKE the detectives in West Milford NJ in America who banged my head against a police car over ten times and laughed at me while they handcuffed me so tight my wrists bled in the squad car. They were serving me with the ’restraining order’ my ex husband filed against me to gain custody of my two children in early 1990/91.

    paid large sums of money back then to retain an attorney in New Jersey to sue the West Milford detectives. Sgt. Laughlin the tall red haired police officer over 6 feet tall was the one who banged my head against his cop car in my driveway while a rookie cop watched! No attorney took my case saying I was up against too powerful organizations. I ever went to Fort Dix NJ and told the head of the police there and he ignored me as well.

    Inversely, the alleged most ruthles men and war criminals in the world since Hitler TREATED ME WITH HUMAN DIGNITY AND RESPECT ACTING LIKE GENTLEMAN AT ALL TIMES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I await everyone’s comment!

    The crime against me was racially based I was told later since many of the police in West Milford belong to the KKK connected group called THE NATIONAL ALLIANCE (I was married to a black man and my family was Jewish) even though I am Russian Orthodox Christian). I traced the National Alliance to the Southern States and read their Nazi manifesto to kill all �Jews, Russians and Black.� Their signs used to be explicitly posted in the Hewitt West Milford Post Office

    So I grabbed one and called them and discovered their true genocidal agenda. I am a war crimes investigator and right here only 30 minutes from the United Nations in West Milford NJ we have genocide occurring and no one listens to me! The detectives involved were and not limited to: Sgt. Laughlin, Detective Harry Shortway and his close partner Peter Van Gilst and the former internal affairs investigator Mr. Sorchinsky aka ZORO. The National Alliance manifesto clearly indicates that persons ought use their powerful positions all over New Jersey, whether they be police, doctors and/or judges to rid the world of Russians,. Jews and Blacks

    One of the many reasons for which I am on permanent disability is that I felt coerced by the police in Passaic County that unless I said I was �insane� I may be shot and killed because I’d be able to testify against them! Detective Shortway set me up to be murdered once already by placing an ad in the localO paper and saying he was leaving on vacation etc.etc… it is too complicated to go into here and now. I was looking for a new place to rent with my family at the time. On a voice changing machine (as my children can attest to) he gave me directions to a house to look at towards the end of all this ordeal with him. Later I found out the directions where I told my family I was going to look at th rental were over 20 miles in another direction and no one wold have ever found me again. This is my take on this and I am usually correct. Sorry for my spelling but this is extremely dificult for me to remember (agonizingly painful emotionally)

    I am scared to death now not of anything emanating from my writing about Mladic, but of my present close proximity where I reside nearby to West Milford and its associated Detectives. I never feared being hurt because I am writing a book based on my experiences in Serbia and Montenegro. Yes I am fearful of retaliation of SHORTWAY AND HIS CRONIES !

    ================================================================================ UN NGO In NYC Confirms United States Used Psychiatric Facility in Wykoff NJ USA

    (Ramapo Ridge Hospital) As SEcret Military Tribunal and Torture Facilty

    Monday, April 20, 2009 Recovery Leads to Near Death Experience at Ramapo Ridge Psychiatiric Hospital in Wykoff, New Jersey (U.S.A.) A few years ago during an incident becoming seemingly common place in my life happening so often now. The local Bloomingdale New Jersey Police Department again had forced me physically into a psychiatric Hospital again; this time Chilton Hospital in Paquannock, NJ, USA. I was in the emergency room once again, for seemingly no reason whatsoever after making another attempt reporting an incident for investigation to the local Bloomingdale, NJ Police mentioning issues effecting the entire world. Anyway, this time Chilton Hospital forced me into a place called Ramapo Ridge Psychiatric Hospital. They had me on medications dropping my blood pressure to 82 over 67 (i almost died). They continued to force me to take this medication for at least three weeks in which time they refused to release me. I was not released for almost one month after arguing with the staff that there was nothing at all wrong with me. Each day my two regular psychiatrists called Ramapo Ridge Mental Hospital trying to get released. They refused and Ramapo Ridge told me I had to stand before a judge and court located in the bottom floor of the building to be released.After three weeks I had to go downstairs and I actually stood before what seemed to be a “war crimes tribunal,� in lower level of the Ramapo Ridge . I stood before a judge wearing a regular judicial long black robe and a line of attorney’s beseeching my release from the hospital. I dont know to this day what this experience was about; i dread to tell you. Secret types of
    military tribunals right here operating in the USA by the CIA (?) Inquiring minds demand answers.

    UN NGO In NYC Confirms United States Used Psychiatric Hospital Ramapo Ridge in Wykoff,  
    

    New Jersey (U.S.A. AS Secret Military Tribunal and Interrogation Facility)A few years ago during an incident becoming seemingly common place in my life happening so often now. The local Bloomingdale New Jersey Police Department again had forced me physically into a psychiatric Hospital again; this time Chilton Hospital in Paquannock, NJ, USA. I was in the emergency room once again, for seemingly no reason whatsoever after making another attempt reporting an incident for investigation to the local Bloomingdale, NJ Police mentioning issues effecting the entire world. Anyway, this time Chilton Hospital forced me into a place called Ramapo Ridge Psychiatric Hospital. They had me on medications dropping my blood pressure to 82 over 67 (i almost died). They continued to force me to take this medication for at least three weeks in which time they refused to release me. I was not released for almost one month after arguing with the staff that there was nothing at all wrong with me. Each day my two regular psychiatrists called Ramapo Ridge Mental Hospital trying to get released. They refused and Ramapo Ridge told me I had to stand before a judge and court located in the bottom floor of the building to be released. After three weeks I had to go downstairs and I actually stood before what seemed to be a “war crimes tribunal,� in lower level of the Ramapo Ridge . I stood before a judge wearing a regular judicial long black robe and a line of attorney’s beseeching my release from the hospital. I dont know to this day what this experience was about; i dread to tell you. Secret types of military tribunals right here operating in the USA by the CIA (?) Inquiring minds demand answers. UN NGO In NYC Confirms United States Used Psychaitric Hosptial Ramapo Ridge in Wykoff, New Jersey (U.S.A. AS Secret Military Tibunal and Interrogation Facility) I will also add that now I am scared beyond belief to go to the emergency room at Chilton Hospital in Pomtpon Plains NJ. WHY (?) Ever since the Bloomingdale, NJ police illegally forced me to continually go into the psychiatric ward at Chilton against my and my doctors will whenever I make a local police report when I feel my life is endangered, when I am physically ill with the flu or something, I notice when I go to the Chilton Hospital emergency room, instead of taking my injury seriously, the doctors just ask me if I want to go into the psychiatric section upstairs, strongly suggesting I am being �paranoid.� Instead of offering me good medical care.

    I can never get nondiscriminatory emergency medical care at Chilton hospital without the hospital itself insisting that I am just being �paranoid.� And they always call my psychiatrist
    whenever I go to their hospital even for the flu! This has led to Arnold Stark my former professor advising me to always go to St Joseph’s Hospital in Wayne NJ instead which I do n ow. I will also add that now I am scared beyond belief to go to the emergency room at Chilton Hospital in Pomtpon Plains NJ. WHY (?) Ever since the Bloomingdale, NJ police illegally forced me to continually go into the psychiatric ward at Chilton against my and my doctors will whenever I make a local police report when I feel my life is endangered, when I am physically ill with the flu or something, I notice when I go to the Chilton Hospital emergency room, instead of taking my injury seriously, the doctors just ask me if I want to go into the psychiatric section upstairs, strongly suggesting I am being �paranoid.� Instead of offering me good medical care.

    I can never get nondiscriminatory emergency medical care at Chilton hospital without the hospital itself insisting that I am just being �paranoid.� And they always call my psychiatrist whenever I go to their hospital even for the flu! This has led to Arnold Stark my former professor advising me to always go to St Joseph’s Hospital in Wayne NJ instead which I do n ow. Jill Starr I grew up traveling the world with my parents at age 7. I remember being on the island of Java in 1970/71 going swimming in the pool at Hotel InterContinentel surrounded by armed soldiers; and, and flying over Vietnam and my father pointing out “look Jill we are flying over Vietnam now…” with my Mom. The interesting thing was no commercial airlines flew over Vietnam unti. about one decade ago and certainly not in the 1970s. Sports: Water polo, Soccer Recreation: Partying, Travel Tags: reading, travel, children, swimming, music, college, writing, environment, new jersey, philosophy, culture, sociology, new york, ecology, china, peace, theatre, america, social justice, theology, war, human rights, endangered species, indonesia, russia, romania, political science, united nations, ideology, news media, war crimes, fairness, preventive diplomacy, crimes against humanity, serbia, kosovo, montenegro, edcuation, west milford, bloomingdale, mediation techniques James Bond type films.

    View my complete profile

    Mysterious Spooks/ Spirits From My Past Scare Me A

    Thursday, April 23, 2009 Mysterious Spooks/ Spirits From My Past Scare Me At Ramapo Ridge Facility Jill Starr , bloomingdale: Apr 5 2009 United States :

    Mysterious Spooks/ Spirits From My Past Scare Me At Ramapo Ridge Facility This is the story while I was illegally detained at Ramapo Ridge facility in Wykoff NJ USA, a man comes in through the front door wearing a one piece janitor outfit and starts mopping for about 10 minutes . He looked like one of my father’s former associates from way back in the day (I won’t say who now). Anyway, he walked out of the men’s room and then tosses his mop aside and unzips his janitorial outfit revealing a pin striped sharp blue suit, grabs his briefcase behind the front desks and whisks himself out the front door saying goodbye to me. Posted by lpcyusa at 10:48 AM 0 comments Evidence United States Tortured Its Own Citizen

    When I refused to take the continuous lines of medications at Ramapo Ridge facility I knew that
    I was extemely allergic to they told me I needed an �Attitude adjustment.� This is when they took me into a solitary confinement room and put my arms and legs in straps on a horrible bed. The injected me with the medication they told me I was �going to get one way or another.� For about 4-6 hours (it is difficult to kow I was drugged) the facility would not allow me a bedpan or to get up to the bathroom and told me to crap and piss all over msyelf and I could take a shower when my �attitude is right.� AFter I calmed down because I had no recourse, I was allowed to take a shower they bossed me around saying �Go shower now Jill!�

    I was absolutely tortured right there in NJ USA Ramapo Ridge Sends Me Back To Chilton Hospital After My First Ambulatory Arrival And Drug Urine Test Fails Ramapo Ridge Sends Me Back To Chilton Hospital After My First Ambulatory Arrival And Drug Urine Test Fails The first time Chilton sent me via ambulance to the Ramapo Ridge facility, the ambulance from Chilton dropped me off. The Ramapo Ridge facility gave me a urine test as soon as I arrived at the detention facility in Wykoff NJ USA. The test was positive for a result because Ramapo Ridge sent me all the way back to Chilton by way of another ambulance at 3Am in the morning. The Head Nurse told me “Jill you have to go back to Chilton Hospital because we have to wait for your urine test to clear from something or the other…) to the best of my memory which is VERY good as we know is a proven fact. I was sent back to Chilton Hospital from Ramapo Ridge at about 3 am in the morning until a urine test that Chilton Hospital in Pompton Plains NJ said that I was able to be transported back to Ramapo Ridge. It must have been close to 4-5:30 am almost dawn when this occurred to me.I will continue to release proof and details until the United States of America grants both Serbia and myself immediate monetary settlements for our troubles. Serbia and Bonsia and Montenegro are due moneys because of illegal bombing of their countries and I am owed a sizable financial settlement as stated. I ask President Obama to immediately work out an out of international court settlement at once before the news reports it right with MY TRANSLATION!

    When the second time I arrived at Ramapo Ridge about 4 am in the morning after complaining that in my own views there was no reason to send me back and forth between hospitals in the middle of the night, the Ramapo Ridge facility told me to wait ina room with magazines and puzzles in it. I worked on a large jigsaw puzzle and heard the Head Nurse say to a man that looked like a CIA operative �ENTER THIS TIME IN HER LOG.� Even writing about this experience in this blog to expose it causes me panics attacks I will have for the rest of my life. When I refused to take the continuous lines of medications at Ramapo Ridge facility I knew that I was extemely allergic to they told me I needed an �Attitude adjustment.� This is when they took me into a solitary confinement room and put my arms and legs in straps on a horrible bed.

    The injected me with the medication they told me I was �going to get one way or another.� For about 4-6 hours (it is difficult to kow I was drugged) the facility would not allow me a bedpan or to get up to the bathroom and told me to crap and piss all over msyelf and I could take a shower when my �attitude is right.� AFter I calmed down because I had no recourse, I was allowed to take a shower they bossed me around saying �Go shower now Jill!� I was absolutely tortured right there in NJ USA http://lpcyu.instablogs.com/feed And again, both Ramapo Ridge and Chilton in Pompton Plains NJ both allowed former doctor Charlotte Piuck, my former psychiatrist whose license taken away by the New Jersey branch of American Medical Association, consult with Ramapo Ridge and Chilton doctors whom were

    licensed and they agrered with her behind the meddical desk to continue giuving me medications they all knew I had long hostories of being allergic to. When I did get allergic reactions in Chilton and Ramapo Ridge BOTH FACILITIES REFUSED TO GIVE ME BENEDRYL TO COUNTER ACT TE ALLERGIC REACTION WHICH COULD HAV KILLED ME

    ill Starr, Director of the UN/NGO The Law Projects Center Manhattan Area Office Confirms She Was Illegally Detained by US Intlligence Officials at Ramapo Ridge Facility in Wykoff NJ (Secret US Military Tribunal and Interrogation Center) Where She Was Placed In Straight Jacket and Gave Me Injections Ramapo Ridge facility also put me in a straight jacket and chained me to the bed in their facility and gave me injections for hours!eing Drugged and Questioned At Ramapo Ridge in Wykoff In addition to being dragged off and illegally detained and imprisoned for over 2.5 weeks in Ramapo Ridge Psychiatric Facility in Wykoff NJ by Bloomingdale, NJ Police Officials hoping to collect on information they are trying to get out of me ; they hope sharing in that pot of million dollar Euros on the Mladic & Karadzic arrest which is why they have abused me so here locally in NJ USA, the facility at Ramapo Ridge came fully equipped with judges in long black robes and an entire courtroom with a row of high powered attorneys in high powered suits, for defendants for persons like myself demanding to be released when their regular doctors continued calling the facility to have the released; and, Ramapo Ridge refused. Ramapo Ridge also drugged me on medications I had a long history of being allergic to against my will and kept keeping logs all day and night about “what Jill was rambling about now,� I remember in my drugged state rambling about Osama bin Laden and some others things they were trying to force out of me about war crimes in Serbia and Bosnia. I almost died from the low blood pressures these drugs produced in me and I have Arnold Stark with me when they took my blood pressure and it was only like 62/90 (!) Arnold said “She could die!� to the facility doctors but they only forced me to take more medicines. PRSIDENT OBAMA HAS DONE NOTHING FOR CHANGE! HE LIES AND COVERS THIS UP AND I STILL AWAIT SOME FINANCIAL SETTLEMENT FOR THIS TORTURE IN NJ USA. ONLY 30 MINUTES FROM THE UNITED NATIONS IN NYC Posted by lpcyusa at 7:54 AM 0 comments This is why I, Jill Starr, Felt So Safe on a Tivat Montenegro Car Ferry Surrounded By At Least 20 Armed Serbian Soldiers….Jill Starr Accuses Local Police Of Illegally Serving Search Warrant too (!) Bloomingdale Police arrested me under the pretense for “drugs,� but they searched illegally way outside the legal limits of their “search warrant� signed by local Judge Cluff (also serving in West Milford NJ and he knows Harry Shortway)…The search warrant itself never manifested any particular place in my home where I had drugs and/or not explicit what types of any drugs if any the local Bloomingdale NJ Police were looking for in my house and at what location in my house itself. It was like I was served with a “Patriot Act Warrant� ANYTHING WAS LEGAL FOR THEM TO DO TO ME! THE LOCAL DETECTIVE SEARCHED EVERYTHING THREATENING TO PUT ME IN OB/GYN STIRRUPS AND LOOK UP MY PRIVATES IF THEY COULD NOT FIND WHAT THEY WERE SEARCHING FOR IN MY HOUSE AND BODY. THEY STRIP SEARCHED ME WITH A FEMALE PATRON TOO IN TOWNHALL!

    I DEMAND IMMEDIATE ARRESTS OF CERTAIN LOCAL BLOOMINGDALE POLICE INVOLVED IN MY TORTURE AND ABUSE, PRESIDENT OBAMA NOW! I have a copy of it the warrant in my hands now to be released at any time. They ransacked my place searched every paper for evidence of where Mladic and Karadzic were instead (!) http://www.icty.org/case/karadzic/4 Click the link above to see international justice in action. Legal scholars around the world are not asking why Radovan Karadzic cannot be granted enough time by the Hague’s Int’l Criminal Court to read his own transcripts for his own defense, and, have his legal briefs translated before his arraignments (?) so he can defend himself in the Hague’s highest court. Why can’t he subeana Richard Holbrook as a witness to testify and others in his behalf possessing important and vital documentary evidence in acting in his own defense (?) If a small court in Paterson New Jersey and local courts my own small New Jersey municipality can arrange such legal provisions, why won’t the Hague (?) After all the Hague claims it does not have enough resources which is doubtful since it claims necessity to move gold and other international assets on court business unhindered through interstate borders. The Hague’s highest court globally has just been exposed in one easy blog as as a genuine travesty of social equitable international justice in all cases in the Former Yugoslavia. Posted by lpcyusa at 7:40 AM 0 comments US tried to assassinate me: Karadzic to UN court United States Tried to assassinate me’: Karadzic to UN court Submitted by Sahil Nagpal on Fri, 08/01/2008 – 06:23. London, Aug. 1: Former Bosnian-Serb leader Radovan Karadzic has accused the United States of trying to assassinate him. Appearing before a UN war crimes tribunal in The Hague, Karadzic, who is now known to his jailers as prisoner number 38, informed Dutch judge Alphons Orie that Richard Holbrooke, the former United States Assistant Secretary of State, had granted him immunity as part of a wider Bosnia peace deal agreed in 1995.

    “My commitment was to withdraw even from literary life and all sorts of public life,� he said. How else can Karadzic or anyone else sitting at the Hague’s highest court get fair trials in this matter (?) Intelligence Office Sources also confirm that Ratko Mladic’s life is also in grave danger and it is in his best interest to remain at all costs away from the Hague until a full investigation is completed in the death of Slobodan Milosevic as well. Sources confirm that a mryiad of local NJ doctors knowingly put Jill Starr on enough

    combination drugs to overdose herself knowing she was suicidal and depressed at that time.

    a at 3:37 PM 0 comments Comparing Whereby Karadzic & Mladic Treate Me W/NJ Deteecties Harry SHarry Shortway, Pete Van Gilst, Sorchinski Could Face Murder Charges Sources Sa Thursday, April 2, 2009 Harry Shortway, Pete Van Gilst, Sorchinski Could Face Murder Charges Sources Say>> The Instablog.Com website administration today stated on my blog account, I am no longer authorized to submit articles for some unknown reason. I surmise the reason may be I’m submitting too many articles at once. Hence, I opened an additional account just so I could post this follow up comment on my previously written article entitled, Comparing West Milford Detectives in New Jersey to the Treatment Received By Karadzic and Mladic in Serbia. Please read it. It is an extremely important legal case I am submitting to the Hague Court in the Netherlands as an individual complainant from here in the United States of America. I hope it will set an international precedent even in America people are abused by government officers. I am fully convinced after almost a decade of asking the legal governmental authorities at local, state and federal levels here in the United States of America to arrest and try Detective Harry Shortway and his Sgt. Laughlin in a court of law in America for attempting to murder me and moreover physically and emotionally torturing me and my family in 1990/1991, it is clear, the United States of America is either unwilling OR incapable of taking the bold moral measures to arrest Harry Shortway and associates giving him a fair trial here in America similarly to what American diplomats such as Hillary Clinton accuse Serbia of not submitting General Mladic to the Hague for trial. Hypocritical America, don’t you agree (?) This makes a mockery of genuine ideals insofar as human rights in America while manifesting extremely gross violations of human rights against me as well as attempted genocide committed against me by Harry Shortway (on account of allegedly wanting to kill me because I derive from a Jewish family background and was then married to a black on account of his fascist affiliations with the National Alliance KKK group). These crimes against me occurred only thirty minutes away from the United Nations Security Council in Manhattan; I, Jill Starr am an American citizen and previously wrote the UN about this in the early 1990s. All together now let’s remember the crime of ‘genocide’ in and of itself, can be the attempt to kill one OR thousands of members of any ethnic, religious group.

    More to come on this story.

    I AM OFFERING A FINANCIAL REWARD FOR ANY AND ALL INFORMATION LEADING TO CAPTURE AND ARREST OF DETECTIVE HARRY SHORTWAY FORMER WEST MILFORD NEW JERSEY DETECTIVE AND HIS SGT. LAUGHLIN AND ASSOCIATES: 1) SGT. LAUGHLIN (IS A TALL RED HAIRED MAN OVER 6 FEET IN HEIGHT AND SLIM BUILD- HE IS NOT VERY INTELLIGENT). SGT. LAUGHLIN WAS LAST SEEN BY ME IN BACK OF RYAN MACHINE COMPANY IN THE DRIVEWAY OF THE HOUSE I USED TO RENT WITH MY FAMILY OFF MACOPIN ROAD IN WEST MILFORD NEW JERSEY YANKING ME BY MY LONG HAIR AND BANGING MY HEAD AGAINST HIS POLICE CAR WHILE HIS ROCKIE PARTNER COP WATCHED. THEN HE SHOVED ME INTO HIS POLICE CAR IN HANDCUFFING WHICH HE CONTINUED TIGHTENING AGAINST MY WRISTS TILL THEY BEGAN BLEEDING IN PAIN WHILE I CRIED OUT IN AGONY AND TEARS FOR HIM TO STOP; HE WOULD NOT STOP AND CONTINUE LAUGHING WHILE HE DROVE ME TO UP TO SEE SHORTWAY WHO WAS WAITING FOR ME AT THE WEST MILFORD POLICE STATION. I AM OFFERING A FINANCIAL REWARD FOR ANY AND ALL INFORMATION LEADING TO CAPTURE AND ARREST OF DETECTIVE HARRY SHORTWAY FORMER WEST MILFORD NEW JERSEY DETECTIVE AND HIS SGT. LAUGHLIN AND ASSOCIATES: 1) SGT. LAUGHLIN (IS A TALL RED WAVY HAIRED MAN OVER 6 FEET IN HEIGHT AND SLIM BUILD- HE IS NOT VERY INTELLIGENT). SGT. LAUGHLIN WAS LAST SEEN BY ME IN BACK OF RYAN MACHINE COMPANY IN THE DRIVEWAY OF THE HOUSE I USED TO RENT IN HIGHCREST LAKE COMMUNITY WITH MY FAMILY OFF MACOPIN ROAD IN WEST MILFORD NEW JERSEY YANKING ME BY MY LONG HAIR AND BANGING MY HEAD AGAINST HIS POLICE CAR ABOUT TEN TIMES NONSTOP WHILE HIS ROCKIE PARTNER COP STOOD THERE DOING NOTHING MERELY WATCHING ME BE ABUSED. THEN SGT LAUGHLIN SHOVED ME INTO HIS POLICE CAR IN HANDCUFFS WHICH HE CONTINUED TIGHTENING AGAINST MY WRISTS TILL THEY BEGAN BLEEDING IN PAIN WHILE I CRIED OUT IN AGONY AND TEARS FOR HIM TO STOP; HE WOULD NOT STOP AND CONTINUED LAUGHING WHILE HE DROVE ME TO UP TO SEE SHORTWAY WHO WAS WAITING FOR ME AT THE WEST MILFORD POLICE STATION. THIS FINANCIAL REWARD IS CONTINGENT UPON ANY FINANCIAL SETTLEMENT I MAY RECEIVE IN THE FUTURE FROM THE THREE GRADUATE SCHOOLS FORMERLY DISCRIMINATING AGAINST ME IN THE MOST VILE MANNERS IN THE NJ AND NYC AREAS. I WILL OFFER SPLIT EQUITABLE FINANCIAL REWARD OF 50% OF ANY MONEY I RECEIVE TO THOSE AGENCIES AND/OR INDIVIDUALS COURAGEOUS ENOUGH TO HELP BRING THESE RUTHLESS DETECTIVES AND THEIR SGT’S TO JUSTICE AND JAIL. AND, IF AMERICAN CANNOT FIND THE MORAL AND POLITICAL WILLPOWER TO BRING THEM TO JUSTICE AND TRIAL HERE IN THE USA, I WANT THEM EXTRADITED TO THE HAGUE ICC COURT. In friendship and diplomacy my reputation for honesty proceeds me so all interested persons and/or parties in helping me bring Shortway and his Sgt Laughlin from West Milford NJ to trial at teh Hague, can rest assured I will uphold my end of the reward agreement shall I receive financial settlement myself from the aforementioned colleges in the near future.


    UN NGO In NYC Confirms United States Used Psychiatric Facility in Wykoff NJ USA

    (Ramapo Ridge Hospital) As SEcret Military Tribunal and Torture Facilty

    Monday, April 20, 2009 Recovery Leads to Near Death Experience at Ramapo Ridge Psychiatiric Hospital in Wykoff,

    New Jersey (U.S.A.)

    A few years ago during an incident becoming seemingly common place in my life happening so often now. The local Bloomingdale New Jersey Police Department again had forced me physically into a psychiatric Hospital again; this time Chilton Hospital in Paquannock, NJ, USA. I was in the emergency room once again, for seemingly no reason whatsoever after making another attempt reporting an incident for investigation to the local Bloomingdale, NJ Police mentioning issues effecting the entire world. Anyway, this time Chilton Hospital forced me into a place called Ramapo Ridge Psychiatric Hospital. They had me on medications dropping my blood pressure to 82 over 67 (i almost died). They continued to force me to take this medication for at least three weeks in which time they refused to release me. I was not released for almost one month after arguing with the staff that there was nothing at all wrong with me. Each day my two regular psychiatrists called Ramapo Ridge Mental Hospital trying to get released. They refused and Ramapo Ridge told me I had to stand before a judge and court located in the bottom floor of the building to be released.

    After three weeks I had to go downstairs and I actually stood before what seemed to be a “war crimes tribunal,� in lower level of the Ramapo Ridge .I stood before a judge wearing a regular judicial long black robe and a line of attorney’s beseeching my release from the hospital. I dont know to this day what this experience was about; i dread to tell you. Secret types of military tribunals right here operating in the USA by the CIA (?) Inquiring minds demand

    Saturday, March 28, 2009 UN NGO In NYC Confirms United States Used Psychaitric Hosptial Ramapo Ridge in Wykoff, New Jersey (U.S.A. AS Secret Military Tibunal and Interrogation United States :

    UN NGO In NYC Confirms United States Used Psychaitric Hosptial Ramapo Ridge in Wykoff, New Jersey (U.S.A. AS Secret Military Tibunal and Interrogation Facility)UN NGO In NYC Confirms United States Used Psychaitric Hosptial Ramapo Ridge in Wykoff, New Jersey (U.S.A. AS Secret Military Tibunal and Interrogation Facility) Jill Starr , bloomingdale: Feb 12 2009 United States : UN NGO In NYC Confirms United States Used Psychaitric Hosptial Ramapo Ridge in Wykoff, New Jersey (U.S.A. AS Secret Military Tibunal and Interrogation Facility)A few years ago during an incident becoming seemingly common place in my life happening so often now. The local Bloomingdale New Jersey Police Department again had forced me physically into a psychiatric Hospital again; this time Chilton Hospital in Paquannock, NJ, USA. I was in the emergency room once again, for seemingly no reason whatsoever after making another attempt reporting an incident for investigation to the local Bloomingdale, NJ Police mentioning issues effecting the entire world. Anyway, this time Chilton Hospital forced me into a place called Ramapo Ridge Psychiatric Hospital. They had me on medications dropping my blood pressure to 82 over 67 (i almost died). They continued to force me to take this medication for at least three weeks in which time they refused to release me.

    I was not released for almost one month after arguing with the staff that there was nothing at all wrong with me. Each day my two regular psychiatrists called Ramapo Ridge Mental Hospital trying to get released. They refused and Ramapo Ridge told me I had to stand before a judge and court located in the bottom floor of the building to be released. After three weeks I had to go downstairs and I actually stood before what seemed to be a “war crimes tribunal,� in lower level of the Ramapo Ridge . I stood before a judge wearing a regular judicial long black robe and a line of attorney’s beseeching my release from the hospital. I dont know to this day what this experience was about; i dread to tell you. Secret types of military tribunals right here operating in the USA by the CIA (?) Inquiring minds demand answers. UN NGO In NYC Confirms United States Used Psychaitric Hosptial Ramapo Ridge in Wykoff, New Jersey (U.S.A. AS Secret Military Tibunal and Interrogation Facility) Tags: cia, military tribunals, jill starr, rendition

    I will also add that now I am scared beyond belief to go to the emergency room at Chilton Hospital in Pomtpon Plains NJ. WHY (?) Ever since the Bloomingdale, NJ police illegally forced me to continually go into the psychiatric ward at Chilton against my and my doctors will whenever I make a local police report when I feel my life is endangered, when I am physically ill with the flu or something, I notice when I go to the Chilton Hospital emergency room, instead of taking my injury seriously, the doctors just ask me if I want to go into the psychiatric section upstairs, strongly suggesting I am being �paranoid.� Instead of offering me good medical care. I can never get nondiscriminatory emergency medical care at Chilton hospital without the

    hospital itself insisting that I am just being �paranoid.� And they always call my psychiatrist

    whenever I go to their hospital even for the flu! This has led to Arnold Stark my former professor advising me to always go to St Joseph’s Hospital in Wayne NJ instead which I do n ow. I will also add that now I am scared beyond belief to go to the emergency room at Chilton Hospital in Pomtpon Plains NJ. WHY (?)Ever since the Bloomingdale, NJ police illegally forced me to continually go into the psychiatric ward at Chilton against my and my doctors will whenever I make a local police report when I feel my life is endangered, when I am physically ill with the flu or something, I notice when I go to the Chilton Hospital emergency room, instead of taking my injury seriously, the doctors just ask me if I want to go into the psychiatric section upstairs, strongly suggesting I am being �paranoid.� Instead of offering me good medical care. I can never get nondiscriminatory emergency medical care at Chilton hospital without the hospital itself insisting that I am just being �paranoid.� And they always call my psychiatrist whenever I go to their hospital even for the flu! This has led to Arnold Stark my former professor advising me to always go to St Joseph’s Hospital in Wayne NJ instead which I do n ow. Jill Starr I grew up traveling the world with my parents at age 7. I remember being on the island of Java in 1970/71 going swimming in the pool at Hotel InterContinentel surrounded by armed soldiers; and, and flying over Vietnam and my father pointing out “look Jill we are flying over Vietnam now…” with my Mom. The interesting thing was no commercial airlines flew over Vietnam until. about one decade ago and certainly not in the 1970s. Sports: Water polo, Soccer Recreation: Partying, Travel Tags: reading, travel, children, swimming, music, college,

    Mysterious Spooks/ Spirits From My Past Scare Me A

    Thursday, April 23, 2009 Mysterious Spooks/ Spirits From My Past Scare Me At Ramapo Ridge Facility

    Mysterious Spooks/ Spirits From My Past Scare Me At Ramapo Ridge Facility

    Jill Starr , bloomingdale: Apr 5 2009 United States :

    Mysterious Spooks/ Spirits From My Past Scare Me At Ramapo Ridge Facility This is the story while I was illegally detained at Ramapo Ridge facility in Wykoff NJ USA, a man comes in through the front door wearing a one piece janitor outfit and starts mopping for about 10 minutes . He looked like one of my father’s former associates from way back in the day (I won’t say who now).Anyway, he walked out of the men’s room and then tosses his mop aside and unzips his janitorial outfit revealing a pin striped sharp blue suit, grabs his briefcase behind the front desks and whisks himself out the front door saying goodbye to me. Posted by lpcyusa at 10:48 AM 0 comments

    Evidence United States Tortured Its Own Citizen

    Thursday, April 23, 2009 United States :

    Even writing about this experience in this blog to expose it causes me panics attacks I will have

    for the rest of my life.

    WHAT DO YOU SAY OBAMA (?) WHICH CIA OPERATIVES WANT THEIR JOCK STRAPS REMOVED FIRST (?) WE KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS! WHAT DO YOU SAY OBAMA? When I refused to take the continuous lines of medications at Ramapo Ridge facility I knew that I was extemely allergic to they told me I needed an �Attitude adjustment.� This is when they took me into a solitary confinement room and put my arms and legs in straps on a horrible bed. The injected me with the medication they told me I was �going to get one way or another.� For about 4-6 hours (it is difficult to kow I was drugged) the facility would not allow me a bedpan or to get up to the bathroom and told me to crap and piss all over msyelf and I could take a shower when my �attitude is right.�

    After I calmed down because I had no recourse, I was allowed to take a shower they bossed me around saying �Go shower now Jill!� I was absolutely tortured right there in NJ USA Ramapo Ridge Sends Me Back To Chilton Hospital After My First Ambulatory Arrival And Drug Urine Test Fails Ramapo Ridge Sends Me Back To Chilton Hospital After My First Ambulatory Arrival And Drug Urine Test Fails The first time Chilton sent me via ambulance to the Ramapo Ridge facility, the ambulance from Chilton dropped me off. The Ramapo Ridge facility gave me a urine test as soon as I arrived at the detention facility in Wykoff NJ USA. The test was positive for a result because Ramapo Ridge sent me all the way back to Chilton by way of another ambulance at 3Am in the morning. The Head Nurse told me “Jill you have to go back to Chilton Hospital because we have to wait for your urine test to clear from something or the other…) to the best of my memory which is VERY good as we know is a proven fact. I was sent back to Chilton Hospital from Ramapo Ridge at about 3 am in the morning until a urine test that Chilton Hospital in Pompton Plains NJ said that I was able to be transported back to Ramapo Ridge. It must have been close to 4-5:30 am almost dawn when this occurred to me. I will continue to release proof and details until the United States of America grants both Serbia and myself immediate monetary settlements for our troubles. Serbia and Bonsia and Montenegro are due moneys because of illegal bombing of their countries and I am owed a sizable financial settlement as stated. I ask President Obama to immediately work out an out of international court settlement at once before the news reports it right with MY TRANSLATION!

    When the second time I arrived at Ramapo Ridge about 4 am in the morning after complaining that in my own views there was no reason to send me back and forth between hospitals in the middle of the night, the Ramapo Ridge facility told me to wait ina room with magazines and puzzles in it. I worked on a large jigsaw puzzle and heard the Head Nurse say to a man that looked like a CIA operative �ENTER THIS TIME IN HER LOG.� Comment Link

    bloomingdale, United States [Member] Even writing about this experience in this blog to expose it causes me panics attacks I will have for the rest of my life.WHAT DO YOU SAY OBAMA (?) WHICH CIA OPERATIVS WANT THEIR JOCK STRAPS REMOVED FIRST (?) WE KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS!WAHT DO YOU SAY OBAMA?\ [Member] When I refused to take the continuous lines of medications at Ramapo Ridge facility I knew that I was extemely allergic to they told me I needed an �Attitude adjustment.� This is when they took me into a solitary confinement room and put my arms and legs in straps on a horrible bed.

    The injected me with the medication they told me I was �going to get one way or another.� For about 4-6 hours (it is difficult to kow I was drugged) the facility would not allow me a bedpan or to get up to the bathroom and told me to crap and piss all over msyelf and I could take a shower when my �attitude is right.�AFter I calmed down because I had no recourse, I was allowed to take a shower they bossed me around saying �Go shower now Jill!�

    I was absolutely tortured right there in NJ USA

    http://lpcyu.instablogs.com/feed

    to Upload an Image from your computer or Enter the url of an Image or a youTube video. (And again, both Ramapo Ridge and Chilton in Pompton Plains NJ both allowed former doctor Charlotte Piuck, my former psychiatrist whose license taken away by the New Jersey branch of American Medical Association, consult with Ramapo Ridge and Chilton doctors whom were licensed and they agrered with her behind the meddical desk to continue giuving me medications they all knew I had long hostories of being allergic to. When I did get allergic reactions in Chilton and Ramapo Ridge BOTH FACILITIES REFUSED TO GIVE ME BENEDRYL TO COUNTER ACT TE ALLERGIC REACTION WHICH COULD HAV KILLED ME Comment Link Posted by lpcyusa at 10:57 AM 0 comments Jill Starr, Director of the UN/NGO The Law Projects Center Manhattan Area Office Confirms She Was Illegally Detained by US Intlligence Officials at Ramapo Ridge Facility in Wykoff NJ (Secret US Military Tribunal and Interrogation Center) Where She Was Placed In Straight Jacket and Gave Me Injections Ramapo Ridge facility also put me in a straight jacket and chained me to the bed in their facility and gave me injections for hours!eing Drugged and Questioned At Ramapo Ridge in Wykoff. In addition to being dragged off and illegally detained and imprisoned for over 2.5 weeks in Ramapo Ridge Psychiatric Facility in Wykoff NJ by Bloomingdale, NJ Police Officials hoping to collect on information they are trying to get out of me ; they hope sharing in that pot of million dollar Euros on the Mladic & Karadzic arrest which is why they have abused me so here locally in NJ USA, the facility at Ramapo Ridge came fully equipped with judges in long black robes and an entire courtroom with a row of high powered attorneys in high powered suits, for defendants for persons like myself demanding to be released when their regular doctors continued calling the facility to have the released; and, Ramapo Ridge refused.

    Ramapo Ridge also drugged me on medications I had a long history of being allergic to against my will and kept keeping logs all day and night about “what Jill was rambling about now,� I remember in my drugged state rambling about Osama bin Laden and some others things they were trying to force out of me about war crimes in Serbia and Bosnia. I almost died from the low blood pressures these drugs produced in me and I have Arnold Stark with me when they took my blood pressure and it was only like 62/90 (!) Arnold said “She could die!� to the facility doctors but they only forced me to take more medicines. PRSIDENT OBAMA HAS DONE NOTHING FOR CHANGE! HE LIES AND COVERS THIS UP AND I STILL AWAIT SOME FINANCIAL SETTLEMENT FOR THIS TORTURE IN NJ USA. ONLY 30 MINUTES FROM THE UNITED NATIONS IN NYCPosted by lpcyusa at 7:54 AM 0 comments This is why I, Jill Starr, Felt So Safe on a Tivat Montenegro Car Ferry Surrounded By At Least 20 Armed Serbian Soldiers….

    Jill Starr Accuses Local Police Of Illegally Serving Search Warrant too (!) Bloomingdale Police arrested me under the pretense for “drugs,� but they searched illegally way outside the legal limits of their “search warrant� signed by local Judge Cluff (also serving in West Milford NJ and he knows Harry Shortway)…The search warrant itself never manifested any particular place in my home where I had drugs and/or not explicit what types of any drugs if any the local Bloomingdale NJ Police were looking for in my house and at what location in my house itself. It was like I was served with a “Patriot Act Warrant� ANYTHING WAS LEGAL FOR THEM TO DO TO ME! THE LOCAL DETECTIVE SEARCHED EVERYTHING THREATENING TO PUT ME IN OB/GYN STIRRUPS AND LOOK UP MY PRIVATES IF THEY COULD NOT FIND WHAT

    THEY WERE SEARCHING FOR IN MY HOUSE AND BODY. THEY STRIP SEARCHED ME WITH A FEMALE PATRON TOO IN TOWNHALL! I DEMAND IMMEDIATE ARRESTS OF CERTAIN LOCAL BLOOMINGDALE POLICE INVOLVED IN MY TORTURE AND ABUSE, PRESIDENT OBAMA NOW! I have a copy of it the warrant in my hands now to be released at any time.They ransacked my place searched every paper for evidence of where Mladic and Karadzic were instead (!) http://www.icty.org/case/karadzic/4

    Legal scholars around the world are not asking why Radovan Karadzic cannot be granted enough time by the Hague’s Int’l Criminal Court to read his own transcripts for his own defense, and, have his legal briefs translated before his arraignments (?) so he can defend himself in the Hague’s highest court. Why can’t he subeana Richard Holbrook as a witness to testify and others in his behalf possessing important and vital documentary evidence in acting in his own defense (?)If a small court in Paterson New Jersey and local courts my own small New Jersey municipality can arrange such legal provisions, why won’t the Hague (?) fter all the Hague claims it does not have enough resources which is doubtful since it claims necessity to move gold and other international assets on court business unhindered through interstate borders. The Hague’s highest court globally has just been exposed in one easy blog as as a genuine travesty of social equitable international justice in all cases in the Former Yugoslavia.

    Posted by lpcyusa at 7:40 AM 0 comments US tried to assassinate me: Karadzic to UN court

    United States Tried to assassinate me’: Karadzic to UN court Submitted by Sahil Nagpal on Fri, 08/01/2008 – 06:23.

    London, Aug. 1: Former Bosnian-Serb leader Radovan Karadzic has accused the United States of trying to assassinate him. Appearing before a UN war crimes tribunal in The Hague, Karadzic, who is now known to his jailers as prisoner number 38, informed Dutch judge Alphons Orie that Richard Holbrooke, the former United States Assistant Secretary of State, had granted him immunity as part of a wider Bosnia peace deal agreed in 1995.“My commitment was to withdraw even from literary life and all sorts of public life,� he said. How else can Karadzic or anyone else sitting at the Hague’s highest court get fair trials in this Intelligence Office Sources also confirm that Ratko Mladic’s life is also in grave danger and it is in his best interest to remain at all costs away from the Hague until a full investigation is completed in the death of Slobodan Milosevic as well. Sources confirm that a mryiad of local NJ doctors knowingly put Jill Starr on enough combination drugs to overdose herself knowing she was suicidal and depressed at that time.

    Comparing Whereby Karadzic & Mladic Treate Me W/NJ Detectives Harry SHarry Shortway,

    Pete Van Gilst, Sorchinski Could Face Murder Charges Sources Sa Thursday, April 2, 2009 Harry Shortway, Pete Van Gilst, Sorchinski Could Face Murder Charges Sources Say>>

    It is an extremely important legal case I am submitting to the Hague Court in the Netherlands as an individual complainant from here in the United States of America. I hope it will set an international precedent even in America people are abuse