PART I.
By Teresa Flisiuk
Sunday, February 21, 2010
My family and I have undisputable proof of my husband’s, Michal Flisiuk’s suicide on October 29, 2009.
He had been driven, lead, and assisted into his “final solution” after his near 2.5 years relentless search for the Truth and Justice, after our daughter’s, Blanka Teresa Flisiuk Peridot’s murder at L.S.U. Hospital in New Orleans on June 25th, 2007, where she had been slaughtered within one day by Third Word Countries interns and politically correct advantaged African Americans on the weekend rampage of their promising “prestige” manifestations of playing the physicians. They all targeted the easiest opportunity to start and/or enhance their: internships, residencies, and leaderships career of their superiors in the post-Katrina, devastated 2005 manmade disaster of New Orleans, with the population reduced to its third, and the Federal, as well, as all sorts of internationals funds flowing like the opening of the broken levees, which flooded, and polluted most of the city’s disaster. New Orleans was finally cleaned up of its projects, natives living in their micro cosmoses: all the unique, picturesque, and exotic true nature of New Orleans was wiped out. It was the completion of the long term plan for the ethnic cleansing, ultimately solving the poverty and its byproducts. The ideal for the “Whites Only” merchants has began. Class Law Suits silenced even the Black Leaders, and “nigger rich” compensations satisfied the majority of the victims; the developed Pentagon’s model of the mass control, worked like the Murray’s research and service to Pentagon. The “lonely wolfs” are never the threat.
The Funds… Let me tell you just about FEMA claims, and Red Cross’ generous cleaning supplies.
My son, life-time New Orleans resident artist, was on vacation in Maine when the disaster had stricken. It was our daughter, Blanka, who was evacuating from the deadly neighborhood.
My son resided in one of the artsy communities, which had not been flooded and sustained little damage from the direct storm. When he finally was allowed back to the city, he had an encounter with the FEMA worker, estimating individual damages. He was prepped by his two female neighborhood friends, who just finished remodeling their five bathrooms before the storm, to claim falsified itemized losses; “tell them you had a flat screen TV” and so on… My son told the suspicious bookkeeper that he had not lost anything. It had to be an unprecedented case, since the man became more and more suspicious, starting even suggesting, what my son could possibly loose. My son kept declining his offers. The man left making an impression of the combination: his disbelief and considering some mental illness in that particular lack of “claim”. The French Quarter middle-class, including my son’s thoughtful friends, were on the constant alerts for the free distributions of all the goods: from daily meals to symbolic commodity- toilet paper. Their storages became filled with the “every kind of survival items”, while the organizations were desperate with their distribution of their surpluses, they had to account for distributing! Even the St. Charles Avenue mansions residents had their servants jump out to the trucks for the assorted collections! The “White New Orleans” had gone mad. They even became oblivious to the huge flies feeding on human and animal carcasses, while they themselves were dining! Oblivious to the odor, and its toxic origins. New Orleans was up for grabs! The characteristic was the abandonment of the city‘s maintenance and appearance , while dominated by brand new cars, and shabby service businesses, with their skyrocketing prices for the Black Water contractors. Bizarre contrasts and adjustments to them. It remained unchanged when I traveled to the morgue in 2007, where my daughter had been sent as a result of the hospital’s cheap bargains and shop: unappealing city settled for the “bottom of the Class”, Mexico, Pakistan, and even Nigeria. In return they offered “New Orleans’ credential” with the circumstances to be forgotten in the future. You know, brand name vs. generic. Big Easy!
Tourism is a fancy decoy for Federal vessel of the city of New Orleans. It is all about the port and oil rigs. It is all about the Federal Control and implementing Federal SILENCE. It is distinguished service of Frank Minyard. Poker, Horses, and Corpses…..
New Orlean's Holocaust
Organ Tissue Harvesting-LOPA
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