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Category Archives: 6Days

Picking this story back up two years later is more difficult than I would have liked, considering how things have gone, but i’ll do my best to fill in the details.

When I suspended the recounting of my experience two years ago, I was up to the day of my Charter Challenge. As I’d been detained under the Mental Health Care and Treatment Act, my newly assigned lawyer Jennifer Curran appeared before Justice David Hurley and informed the court that I wouldn’t be able to appear essentially because I’d been certified insane and was being kept in a secure ward with no signing authority to see me to the courthouse. If I’d been arrested and charged with a crime, the RNC would have been responsible for seeing me to the courthouse. Instead, I was rubber stamped into mental health detainment simply because the RNC told the doctors at the hospital to do it. At least, that’s what the certificate of involuntary admission states. No diagnosis, just that the RNC wanted me detained for matters of public safety.

I had just clued up the day 3 of the detainment from my perspective. April 9th, 2015. I was left waiting on the 4th floor ward for Misha to arrive, hopefully with a razor so I could ditch the playoff beard I’d been growing. I wanted to be clean shaven for my habeas corpus hearing the following day. She would never show up that night. I wouldn’t find out until later it was because the RCMP had arrived at my home as she was preparing to leave to serve a search warrant to seize all my electronics.

This caught me off guard when I heard about it, but I wasn’t really surprised. I’d said some pretty harsh things about Stephen Harper, his perceived crimes, and the likely punishment that would come from having those crimes discovered. Remember, back in the Summer of 2014 I filed charges against Stephen Harper for inciting genocide between Arabs and Israelis in the 2014 Gaza War. At the time, I’d made it clear in the charges that his incitement would have enormous political and religious repercussions. His actions would create division between Christians, Muslims and Jews in the region and it would have global repercussions that would be felt in Canada and abroad. He legitimized the inhumanity of that war and created a whole new swath of recruitment material for fanatical Muslims who adhere to a violent interpretation of Islam. The rise in acts of religious terrorism since his initial speech to Israel in January of 2014 can be seen as a result of his influence on the region. These charges and my political views on the matter would have me flagged as a radical and a potential threat to national security.

Suffice it to say I have said a number of bad things about Stephen Harper. There was one Twitter-based utterance where I reference a Kids in the Hall sketch in that I wished I could just pinch my thumb and index finger together and crush his skull between them. Using forced perspective of course. I didn’t quite put it in those words though and the RCMP interpreted them differently. The charges would be withdrawn at first appearance as the Tweet failed to meet the legal requirements for a threat, but at the time those words looked threatening and they felt had to charge me for typing them out.

To prove I’d sent the tweet in question, they got a warrant to search my home and seize my electronics while I was detained. The warrant also authorized them to search quite a bit more and was quite overly broad considering I’d never once denied sending a tweet any time I’d ever been asked about them. If I hadn’t been detained, they wouldn’t have even had the right to ask for a warrant. They would have been limited to talking to me. But since it was unreasonable for them to speak with me due to my being kept incommunicado on a secure ward, they had no other option than to execute a search warrant to prove that I’d sent the Tweet from a month earlier by seizing all my electronic devices.

The RCMP arrived at my home to execute a search warrant regarding a tweet that didn’t meet the legal requirements for a criminal threat on the evening of April 9th, 2015. A charge was laid, but was withdrawn at first appearance. No chance of a conviction. No crime committed. They were allowed to do this by notifying the justice that it was unreasonable to speak with me while I was detained under the Mental Health Care and Treatment Act and that they needed a search warrant regarding the devices in question to prove I’d sent the non-criminal, freedom of expression protected utterance.

The judge complied with their request and authorized them violate the privacy and sanctity of my family home and seize all the devices that had ever logged into my Twitter account. It also authorized them to seize any relevant documents that might relate and was fairly broad in nature. Bet they thought they were going to be beating down the door of another radicalized lone wolf who was bent on taking down the government violently. Expecting to find a cache of guns or bomb making materials.

Imagine their surprise to discover the complete opposite. I own no weapons. My computers contain no traces of violent imagery or sinister plans of any sort. I was working on insect-based research with the local university on means of restoring and maintaining soil fertility for agricultural use. Had built a business model around the idea and was working towards a larger scale implementation. They found a basement that had a wood working area that was full of home made grow chambers. In them I had mint, green onions, collard greens, grape vines, snap dragons and other species I’d been experimenting with.

The only ‘sinister’ item that was found was a small quantity of marijuana. It was for a medical condition, but was unprescribed at the time. My family doctor at the time knew of my usage for my condition, and had since our first encounter back in 2009 when I approached him about both matters. He appeared amenable to the idea of prescribing, but wanted to defer it to a later time when it was more acceptable in the local area. He didn’t want to be the first. At that time I was seeking to get a legal prescription so I could be authorized to grow my own supply and cut the costs associated with it. I’d known there was an underlying pathology to my health since around 2002 when my health improved significantly after engaging in a period of recreational marijuana use. I knew there was a medical benefit, but had no idea what the condition was that it was treating, only that my health had improved. He would have the diagnosis handed to him in 2009 after someone informed me of something I couldn’t see myself, but he never went on to associate it with my existing health file that showed the existence of the condition since childhood. Suffice it to say I have a new family doctor who signed off on my prescription and the matter is dealt with properly. Aside from the fact that we’re still facing these charges.

These charges feel like nothing more than an affront to my basic human dignity. I have a condition that is treatable with medical marijuana. In the eyes of some people that makes me a criminal, which is really just a modern word for sinner. My whole life and existence is then seen as a criminal act. Like I should have died ten years ago from a stroke brought on by massive blood pressure swings while I sleep and thereby not burdened the justice system with the need to address the legality of my existence. I have the right to seek out medicine prolongs my life. Interfering with someone’s attempt to save their own life is a crime in Canada, but good luck pressing that matter against the State. As it stands, this is still progressing through the courts two years later, in spite of the recent R v. Jordan decision that limited the amount of time a matter could be dragged out before the courts.

There is no innocent until proven guilty in this matter. I claimed the entire supply as my own, but defended my possession as an act of self defense. Despite having a videotaped confession, they’ve refused to drop the charges against Misha because it gives them more leverage against me. In short, the courts have been used as a weapon against me and my family for speaking out about what I’d seen.

Misha was arrested twice that night. Once when the first arrived to search the home. Again after they found the marijuana. Never properly cautioned. When she was released later on they dropped her back home without even a phone. All communication devices had been seized by the RCMP.

Keep in mind that she’s six months pregnant at the time and that the warrant they used to gain access to the home was withdrawn by the Crown at first appearance so there was no evidence a crime had even been committed that would have allowed them access to my home.

These matters are still proceeding through the courts. The Crown wants to punish us for being unable to secure the proper paperwork regarding our chosen form of medicine in a timely fashion. The matter isn’t being heard in any sort of reasonable timeline as we’re being pressure by legal aid to simply plead guilty and accept a punishment for having medical conditions, flying in the face of the original R v. Parker decision that legalized marijuana for medical use in Canada.

I’m going to move on to Day 4 now. This will include the first habeas corpus that was denied. That ruling has since been set aside by the Court of Appeal and ordered back to the Supreme Court for a full hearing of the facts, but at the writing of this post it’s been two weeks since the ruling was issued and no date has been set.

I do have a new date for the Charter Challenge that was interrupted two years ago. The application hearing is proceeding this Friday, April 28th. Justice David Hurley, the judge who presided over my initial application hearing and denied habeas corpus, is currently scheduled to hear the matter. I expect I’ll have to ask him to recuse himself.

Before I go into any detail regarding the story of the last two years, I figured i’d provide a brief recap of the events.

I was detained on April 7th, 2015 and released on April 13th. Despite not having a diagnosed disorder or previous hospitalization for treatment, no treatment while I was detained, and released without a diagnosis of disorder, the fact of the detainment remains on my permanent record. An attempt has been made to have it addressed through the Court of Appeal, but it’s been almost a full year since the matter was heard and there is still no ruling handed down.

I halted my recounting of this story back in May of 2015 at the request of certain family members. Recent revelations have shown they were already in conflict and didn’t want to have their involvement made public. They’ve been hounding me to pretend the whole situation hasn’t happened and that I should go on with my life and remain silent about it all.

As I mentioned, the detainment has remained on my permanent record despite there being no diagnosis or treatment. This would become a major issue that still hangs above my head today. The stigma associated with being involuntarily detained is massive, but to be involuntarily detained without even a reason provided just makes anyone who comes across that information excessively suspicious and paranoid. It’s caused repeated problems with police, doctors and child-care workers following the birth of my son and I have no way of having it addressed at present.

I’ve had police repeatedly show up with guns around my family. I’ve been accused of being a radical, a terrorist, a criminal and a mental patient. All without a single diagnosis, conviction or shred of evidence to provide some sort of foundation for the allegation.

My family has been torn apart by it and we’ve been made homeless. Legal aid is refusing to adequately represent us, despite our impoverished status. I have a certificate but no lawyer. My son has been taken from the care of both of his parents and put in the care of people hostile to us. We have no history of alcoholism, drug abuse or violence, but that doesn’t seem to matter to those involved.

My business and livelihood were destroyed by the police raiding my home and seizing all my computers. The charges that allowed them to do that we’re withdrawn at first appearance, but i’m still being pursued for marijuana-related issues that arose from the search. No trafficking offense, just personal use without a prescription. I have a prescription now, but the Crown still wants to punish me for speaking out about what I saw.

The Dunphy Inquiry has since come and gone. Evidence has come forward that the officer who shot Dunphy was involved in my detainment along with his best friend, another officer who is under active investigation for the fourth time. Complaints have been filed, but they will take quite a bit of time to get anywhere.

At present, i’ve had to leave my son behind in Labrador with his mother in the care of the people who it turned out played a role in my original detainment and subsequent issues we faced. I spent the last two months living in an emergency homeless shelter trying to have situation addressed once that information came to light. I kept a full-time job for that time and contacted legal aid frequently about the matter. They’ve persistently delayed assigning a new lawyer and have compounded the matter by allowing it to continue without being addressed. I’m currently back in Corner Brook, still very homeless, but I hope to be able to press the issue in the coming days.

I’ll try to provide an accurate recounting of what happened to bring about this current state. The story is filled with judgmental people, discrimination and human rights abuses. I don’t know if telling this tale will prove to have any benefit, but I feel like it should be told.

If nothing else, maybe my son will get to read it when he’s older and understand why his parents, who both love him dearly, weren’t allowed to be around him.

Luke 12:2-4,  KJV

 “For there is nothing covered, that shall not be revealed; neither hid, that shall not be known. Therefore whatsoever ye have spoken in darkness shall be heard in the light; and that which ye have spoken in the ear in closets shall be proclaimed upon the housetops.”

It’s been almost two years since Don Dunphy was shot. Two years since I was detained. Certain facts of both matters have only come out in the last few months. It will take a while, but I’ll do my best to tell the story of what happened from my perspective.

At present I’m surviving as working homeless in Labrador. I’m coming up on 2 months of living like this, just trying to maintain contact with my son. Ultimately, the matter is futile in this area. There is no justice. The matters before the Courts have still gone unresolved. I’m being treated like I’m a radical, a criminal, a terrorist and a mental patient.  Judgement has been suspending to allow the abuse to continue. No facts have been heard or addressed. My family has been broken up and we’ve been made homeless.

I’m only writing this to keep track of my thoughts and my understanding of what happened. There are too many factors involved from too many parties and the whole thing needs to be brought into the light.

I’ve been giving it some thought and will have to suspend this rendition of my story at this point.

I’d planned on providing Misha’s recounting of her arrest, followed by my day in the Supreme Court to have my habeas corpus denied. However, these matters are to be brought before a Supreme Court Justice at a later date. At this point it is best to maintain a proper respect for the Supreme Courts so as not impugn the reputation of the Court itself.

I have a number of issues from these days I hope to have addressed, but will be requesting they be examined by my lawyers and the Courts and fully validated before proper inclusion in the series. I wouldn’t want to defame anyone by associating their name with crimes they haven’t been proven to have committed. Copies have been written and distributed, but will be withheld until such time as deemed necessary.

-Andrew

While working on the next installment, I’ve received my first specific death threat against myself, my family and my home.

In writing this section, I’ve realized there is some rather unfortunate false intelligence floating around out there that led to these death threats occurring. The Western Star falsely printed on April 16th that I had been charged by the RCMP for the tweet that got me detained on April 7th. The original tweet refers to ‘Bringing down Confederation of Canada and having genocidal politicians judicially executed.’ Italicized sections are the full context of my tweet that was provided during my stay 144 hour stay on the 4th floor. The meaning was already there when combined with my pending Charter Challenge, but as a single tweet the context was lost. No threat towards the Confederation Building ever actually existed. Seeking judicial action through the courts is completely lawful, so no charges were even possible concerning that particular tweet. This didn’t stop the State for detaining me for 6 days and trying to keep me for 30, though.

The RCMP would go on to charge me with threatening the Prime Minister himself, not a threat to Parliament or the Confederation Building or to politicians in general. That tweet was from a month earlier on March 18th, not a tweet from April 6th, as the Western Star falsely indicated. In fact, the tweet I was unlawfully detained for was from April 7th, so the Western Star got it doubly wrong.

The tweet the RCMP charged me with was from March 18th and uttered as part of a series of blasphemes. It was a sentence crafted from my previous experience with the RCMP as most likely to get a response. I can’t remember it directly, but it went something like “If the Prime Minister were here before me right now I’d kill him with my bare hands. #HonorKilling” It wasn’t even directed at the Prime Minister’s twitter account, just an idle threat vocalized in frustration that only followers of my Twitter account would see. It resulted in the seizing of my electronic devices, my research, the marijuana production charges against myself and Misha and the peace bond. No threats to public buildings, public servants or generic politicians were ever made, despite the Western Star’s suggestive misprint. One specific tweet regarding the genocidal PM himself got me charged, unrelated to the misunderstood tweet that got me unlawfully detained.

The Western Star has advised me they’re looking into the matter, but they haven’t informed me of what they’re planning on doing. I’ve since reached out to my lawyer and am expecting to hear from her this afternoon. It’s been almost a month since the story was printed and it has been out there with this libelous spin for a while. Now someone new has earned themselves criminal charges and possible jail time for misinformation provided by the Western Star.

The threats themselves came from some pro-Zionism douchebag. Likely thinking himself immune to criticism since the Canadian government announced it would consider the boycotting Israel a hate crime, he decided to level some pretty hefty death threats against me online through social media accounts. I’ve received them before through Twitter, but usually block or ignore them as trolls simply doing what trolls do. This particular person decided to stalk me on Facebook first after reading an article about the incitement towards genocide charges I filed back in July of 2014. I would have just ignored this troll too, but his profile indicated he was in Gander, a mere 3 hour drive away. When he started leveling accusations about blowing up Confederation building, l blocked him and ignored the issue. After that he took to posting on my YouTube account, escalating the to a new level as these kinds of stalker-troll-types often do.

I’ve taken screen caps which have been forwarded to the RNC who are currently investigating. I’ll quote them here, unedited:

“yeah, I saw you called me out on twitter as “supporting genocide”. well that;s fucking it. you’re fucking dead. i will hunt you down and will fucking kill you. i will burn your fucking pot house to the ground. you’re a fucking dead man. if you know what’s good for you you’ll get the hell out of the province.

youre fucking dead.”

and

“yeah, i saw the twitter post you did about me. you’re fucking dead, sandnigger.”

and

“THERE IS NO GENOCIDE IN GAZA YOU DUMB PIECE OF SHIT”

and

“+Andrew Abbass and you’re a fucking dead man.”

and

“+ParadigmSlip the only good raghead is a dead raghead. go ahead and try and get me jailed for pointing out that fact, but you’re fucking dead either way, sandnigger.”

Since receiving them yesterday morning, the person has offered no further messages. I expect to receive a call today requesting password access to my Google and Facebook accounts from the RNC. This will leave me unable to update my business, petition or GoFundMe account, but I’d like to see this individual tracked down if possible. I submitted to a psychiatric evaluation for much less, why shouldn’t he?

Like my detainment, as well as Don Dunphy’s execution, its another example of the kinds of things that can happen when people operate on flawed or incomplete intelligence. However, other posts online by this person describe Palestinians as rabid animals, one of the hallmarks of the language of genocide, so I suspect he’s got some deeper issues.

Unless their parents were exceptionally arrogant, this person is likely using a pseudonym instead of their real name. They use their account to be an anonymous troll, issue threats and spew racism. I use my public identity as a citizen to be an activist against political corruption, knowing full well my words will be held to account. Unlike my tweets, these messages can’t easily be seen as idle threats or out of context, despite the false context provided by the misleading story in the Western Star. These are direct and specific threats to hunt down and kill a person and burn down their home. They’re also coupled with racial slurs, which elevate the death threats to the level of a hate crime.

Canada’s government announced it was pursuing a zero tolerance policy towards hate crimes on Monday.

Think they’ll live up to their words?

Now working on the story of my home being raided and Misha’s arrest for the tweet I sent on March 18th, not the tweet issued on April 7th (6th) as falsely alleged by the Western Star. Hope this clears up some confusion. I also hope they retract their unfortunately libelous statements in a future edition of their paper.

I woke up on the third morning more than a little groggy. It’s bad enough I had to sleep in a strange location, unwillingly taken from my family and friends and involuntarily detained via a certification of insanity, but the effects of my untreated sleep apnea were becoming uncomfortably noticeable.

Thursday, April 9th, was a largely uneventful day. It was originally to be the day that I was to argue my Charter Challenge before the Supreme Court here in Corner Brook, but instead I was sitting around waiting for breakfast in a secure psychiatric ward. Not quite what I’d expected for the day I’d spent months working towards, but at least it wasn’t a jail cell and I wasn’t being forcibly medicated. It was distressing to see the state of the other patients though.

I’d spent the previous day cluing up a few loose ends. Misha brought my jacket and pants for court and this gave me the time I needed to sew on a button. Had to do it in full view of the nurses station though. Can’t have stray needles floating around. I’d finished composing my counter arguments for the Charter Challenge in the hopes that I’d get to speak, but at this point I’d resigned myself to the knowledge that my hearing would be further delayed. I’d given my lawyer authority to speak on my behalf before the Court to apologize for and explain my absence. A delay has since been granted, but the final date hasn’t been determined as of the writing of this post.

My lawyer would finish filing the papers on Thursday and I’d meet with a legal aide in the evening to give them full access to my medical file prior to Friday’s Habeas Corpus hearing. This created another strange series of events that would further illustrate just how perverse the abuse of process was becoming.

Before I go further, I’m going to discuss some of the side effects of being pulled in. Aside from being unlawfully snatched from my home, slandered, and having my family and professional life completely disrupted, being detained can be surprisingly expensive. As I’ve spent the last few years living at or below the poverty line, I knew how to establish a solid budget and stretch my cash out quite well. As I was trying to develop a business idea with limited access to funds, I was stretching my finances further than I ever had before. This would come to an end when I was pulled in. What little cash on reserve for rainy days went into cab fair and trying to keep things calm for my family.

Upon emerging from detainment, I would find out two weeks later that my business assets would be frozen and I’d have to start making some quick phone calls. Things have been restored, but I still have been offered no proper explanation of how it was lawful to detain me as well as disrupt and degrade my business life.

Bill C-51’s new powers weren’t even needed for my detainment. The government simply leveled the accusation that I was delusional to expect to be able to argue before a Supreme Court Justice that they’re crooks and liars committing crimes against humanity so they had me committed for psychiatrist evaluation. They had full knowledge of my Charter Challenge and they can’t claim otherwise. The Attorney General of Newfoundland and Labrador specifically chose not to submit an argument after his attorneys were provided with my Memorandum of Argument. They chose to feign indifference and ignorance to the whole matter instead.

Another patient, Mary, was a good example of how detainment can shake the foundations of your life. She’s been forced to take a drug that’s making her gain weight and loose her teeth, along with a host of other side effects. The drug itself is known to her as Seroquel and it comes with a disturbing list of known issues. Its also been aggressively marketed for a number of off-label uses by an Australian pharmaceutical company, AstraZeneca, based on falsified reports for clinical trials that never actually took place. There are 10,000 lawsuits that have been filed against the company for the damaging side effects of this drug. Yet, here we have detainees under the Mental Health Act being forced to take it against their will.

Mary was recently detained because it had been discovered that she’d flushed her medication. She was tired of the physical and mental side effects and wanted freedom from her pill-shaped prison. They’d pulled her from her home before she could pay her rent for the month of April and brought her to the ward where I met her. Her rent for the month of April was left sitting on her television. Her landlord, disliking that she’d missed rent and perhaps thinking it would be ok to discriminate against someone detained by the State, served her with eviction papers. We discussed options for dealing with the landlord tenant issue. She’s since made plans to move to a less hostile location. I don’t know how her situation worked out, but I hope it got resolved.

Criminals are treated with more respect than wards detained by the State for reasons of mental health. Criminals are immediately offered legal representation. Patients detained under the Mental Health Act are not. Who really argues for the patients in these situations? I had the right to be advised of the reason for my detainment, but that never arrived. I expect the true reasons will emerge as hearings progress.

Criminals can also appeal their charges before a judge. The reasons for their detainment can be examined. Patients seem to lack this basic right of self-determination. Once medicated, they are under the authority of the prescribing psychiatrist. That doctor’s opinion then carries the weight of law, which is another example of how the rule of law abused in our country. A doctor can be appointed to a position of authority over another human being. They can remove that person’s right to liberty and freedom for refusing to comply with their directions. Patients can ask to be removed from their prescribed medications, but the doctors don’t actually have to listen. Especially with drugs like Seroquel, which have no standard protocols for discontinuing use. It turns the pill-shaped prison into a mental labyrinth, with the prescribing psychiatrist as the minotaur guarding the escape routes.

Seroquel is also known as Quell, which is darkly appropriate when used in politicized psychiatry or for simply sweeping societies uncomfortable mental health problems under the rug. Have a dissenter criticizing you too openly and angrily? Drag them off and have them ‘Quelled.’ I thank God for the peace of mind my personal beliefs inspire in me. They allowed me to weather the storm of detainment and double certification without much anxiety, which made the eventual release that much sweeter. As I mentioned in a previous blog, I believe spirituality is the root of the tree of wellbeing, not one of the branches or leaves, but the foundation itself. Building your mind on anything but the way you connect to reality is like building a house on sand. A good storm can undermine your foundation. Newfoundlanders especially should understand the idea of a house built on rock. Properly built, it can weather the worst that Mother Nature can deliver.

To that end, I spent most of Thursday anxiously awaiting my hearing before the Supreme Court the following day. I met with Misha and Ben during the afternoon visiting hours. Misha was exceptionally tired at this point. Like me, she wasn’t sleeping well due to the situation, but she is also 6 months pregnant so she had extra reasons to be tired. They left with Misha promising to return for the evening visiting hours. This wouldn’t happen as Misha would end up being arrested by the RCMP shortly after returning home. I wouldn’t know this until much later.

When visiting hours rolled around, another friend popped in to visit. He’d expected to meet Misha upon arrival, but this didn’t end up happening. He hadn’t heard from her since the earlier meeting. We tried calling her phone, but couldn’t get through.

As Misha disappearance was being noticed, my lawyer’s legal aide would arrive with disclosure consent forms to sign. She requested access to my medical records and provided two consent forms that I assumed granted full disclosure. I signed both, giving over full access to my file, then left her to make the needed photocopies. I took nothing from my file, nor did I ask anything be withheld. I opened my files like a book and offered the legal aide full access to everything that was available, then went back to hanging out with the visiting friend and trying to phone Misha.

This was the first time I was simply unable to reach out and contact Misha during the entire ordeal and it was the one that made me the most nervous. I had no idea where she was or what was going on. I contacted my family to see if they’d heard from her. I contacted Ben to find out if he’d seen her. He let me know that she was probably exhausted and home sleeping with the phone turned off. I hoped this was the case, but did let my roommate know I was a getting anxious about the whole issue. I’d already been taken from my home unlawfully. If a man’s home is his castle, my castle had been laid siege to and I felt as though my family now stood undefended.

I had a very rough night, unable to get more than a few hours of sleep due to the growing anxiety over what could have made Misha disappear. I wasn’t even thinking of the Court hearing in the morning, I just wanted to know what happened to her.

This concludes My Life of Certified Insanity (Day 3 – Part 1). The next installment for this day will cover Misha’s experience with the RCMP that left her cut off from any means of communication with the outside world.

To pick up where I left off with my last post, I had just requested a second opinion on my initial assessment. Shortly after requesting and thinking my transfer to a new doctor was denied, I found out my wish had been granted.

I’m not going to go into too much detail regarding the follow up that got me released. Suffice it to say I wish to protect the identities of the doctors involved. I will go so far as to say they were both from nations familiar with the impact of deep racial divisions so they had broader understanding of where I was coming from. In fact, once they understood the context of what brought me into the care of the hospital, they made no attempt to dissuade me of my line of thinking. I was certified completely sane and rational and released the following Monday. This gave me a total of 144 hours of detainment, or 6 days, with no legal or psychiatric reason to have done so.

While these details were being sorted out, I was being introduced to provincial abuse of process on a massive scale. This forms the foundation of my argument for the courts. A new layer of oversight is needed to prevent these kinds of situations from arising for other Canadians. I fear the scale of abuse that already exists is so massive it beggars the mind and illustrates how subverted our legal system has become to ‘Crown schemes.’

Through my contacts with the Western Star, I’d arranged with them to have my picture taken to put on record that I was being detained against my will. They’d followed the day of my detainment and other previous news reports concerning my filing of genocide charges from the previous summer, and my years of community radio involvement, local entrepreneurship and agriculture research. On the 8th of April they ran their story about me being detained under the Mental Health Act, giving more of a context for my tweet than the RNC offered to the psychiatrist when I was taken in. They also mentioned that I didn’t have money for a lawyer and that I was still thinking I would get a pass to attend my Charter Challenge. This would later be proven wrong.

It’s interesting to be able to look back and see your own direct quotes.

“Because the government is always right and can never be wrong. Anybody that dissents with them are just going to be flagged as crazy and thrown into situations like this.”

This article would be picked up by the Telegram out in St. John’s and come to the awareness of Jennifer Curran, my current lawyer provided by mental health legal aide. She was quite interested in my case as I fit none of the requirements for a person to be remanded under the act. I have no mental disorder and no criminal charges were forthcoming. At the time of all this occurring, my certification papers still only had one signature on them.

Once we’d made contact and entered into a lawyer-client agreement, she informed me that she wanted to file an application of Habeas Corpus to have me brought before a local Supreme Court Justice to argue my detainment was unlawful. This would turn out to be the same Justice originally scheduled to hear my Charter Challenge. Small world. She also informed me that any discussion of sending me off for 30 day analysis was also unlawful as I hadn’t been charged with any crime. This isn’t Soviet Russia, despite what our Prime Minister or Premier seems to think.

So by Wednesday afternoon, I’d met with my new doctor and had our first discussion. I’d been contacted by a lawyer who wanted to represent me and I had been photographed with my disheveled beard in all it’s glory for the front page of the Western Star the following day.

At this point, I still hoped I would be able to attend my Charter Challenge, but questions were beginning to crop up. My doctor was willing to issue a pass to allow me to attend my Supreme Court proceedings, but there was a requirement of an escort to and from the Courthouse. As I hadn’t been charged by the RNC, they had no authority to bring me before the Courts. The Hospital also shrugged their shoulders as they had no legal reason to do so either. When I’d be originally told that a pass could be issued, they’d assumed I was a defendant, not a plaintiff. With no option to proceed, I called my lawyer.

Jennifer informed me that she was trying to get the Application of Habeas Corpus filed for the following day, April 9th, but had to jump through a few hoops. I gave her permission to apologize to the Justice for being unable to attend and requested an opportunity to reschedule.

Later on in the evening, the situation would become even stranger. While sitting with Misha and my best friend Ben during evening visiting hours, one of the night nurses brought me in an updated copy of my certification papers. Remember, for the whole day I’d been walking around with my admitting papers with only one signature. I’d also been transferred to a doctor that wasn’t as prejudiced by the situation due to the original RNC presence. I had a lawyer trying to get me before a Supreme Court Justice. But suddenly… there were two signatures on my certification papers.

Two signatures. Thistle and Talpur. Signed and dated five minutes apart from the first night I’d been admitted. Now, unlike a patient brought in for a simple 72 hour observation, I had been certified insane by two separate doctors after a total of five and a half minutes of analysis. No diagnosis, no speculations on a diagnosis, just certified insane. The first signature was required to keep me under observation for 72 hours. The second left me legally certified insane under the Mental Health Care Act and remanded as a ward of the State for further observation. The nurses told me they’d never seen anything like it. This would later be used to deny the application for Habeas Corpus. The Justice’s hands would now be tied by the second signature into a system of Crown schemes and common law precedence.

Obviously, someone wanted me kept under lock and key for a while.

I would spent the second night of my detainment once again sleeping fitfully. Sleep apnea is a harsh disability when you have no way to remedy it. During my six sleeps on the ward, I probably averaged four hours a night. I was still ok at this point. The physiological effects didn’t begin to pile up until Saturday.

That concludes Day 2 of My Life of Certified Insanity. Day 3&4 should be available before the weekend.

When Day 2 of my time on the 4th Floor ward started out, I had been certified by a single signature of an ER doctor. It was supported by a five minute discussion with a psychiatrist who wanted to observe me for a month. I would later find out she has a hearing problem.

I made my first mistake while looking for breakfast. Not realizing the individualized menu system in place, I thought all meals were the same as the trays were laid out haphazardly on the tables. I didn’t spot the name of a fellow inmate until after I’d eaten most of the meal. I ended up swapping the name tag for my meal with his, but it was still strange that there wasn’t even a discussion about the meals or menus. I had to learn about the process from Red Sonya.

Red Sonya is a prime example of how underfunded the mental health care system is in Newfoundland and Labrador. She suffers from bouts of confusion due to difficulty in regulating her insulin, but due to a lack of funding for specialized needs she gets thrown into the 4th floor ward with possible violent offenders.

After breakfast I made a point of inquiring with the nurses which doctor I would be seeing for my follow up assessment. When I was told I would be seeing Dr. Talpur, the same slightly deaf tiny hindu woman so frightened by RNC presence she wanted to keep me under observation for a month, I was a little surprised. I’d spoken to her last night, why would she now be offering the second opinion? This was fishy. The first signing doctor, Thistle, could technically say he’d seen me. We’d been in the room together. He shook my hand and we chatted for a brief moment. He was also in the room in the presence of police who could witness that he’d seen me. However, I felt that his signature on that original assessment was supported by Dr. Talpur’s 5 minute assessment, so this really wasn’t a fair baseline as her impartiality had already been affected. She’d already been in the presence of armed men who’d brought in a man with a long beard and a stack of legal documents. The RNC were presenting her with a copy of my tweet, blown up to fill a full sheet of paper. I shit you not. That’s how they do it. One tweet fills a single page. Poor Mr. Dunphy. Such small words on a cell phone, blown up and magnified to such a huge size. I can only imagine how confusing that must have been.

I think the comparison to the Ottawa Shooter was influenced mostly by the police presence and the beard. I wasn’t raving or incoherent. I peacefully submitted to the entire process. If I had been clean shaven, she wouldn’t have given that extreme of a comparison much of a second thought. I had a stack of legal documents that explained my reason for being there. It provided context. But when presented with slice of my twitter history, my beard, and my arabic last name, she decided I was planning on blowing something up. Instead, I’m just an outspoken activist engaging in legal action against a government that has committed crimes against humanity. I’m also into the idea of building cheap advanced organic farms to feed people. Nothing in that plan should scare anyone except those who hate freedom and independence.

Just for clarity, I never recanted any of the words I uttered on Twitter during my time at WMRH. I still think Premier Davis is an abject coward who is threatening the economic stability of the province with his lack of foresight and inability to deal with the complexities of a changing world. His vision for Newfoundland became evident when he released his pro-police state RNC recruitment video last fall. He’s militaristic and Newfoundland should have no place in it for his brand of intimidation. It threatens families, which form the beating heart of this island. Richard Squires did it less than 100 years ago and it seems that Premier Davis is poised to make the same mistake.

For further clarity, and to assure my point on context is understood, I believe that the Confederation of Canada must be brought down to strip power from the federal government. Through their actions they’ve incited genocide abroad and are responsible for crimes against humanity. They should be arrested, face trial and if found guilty, be executed for their crimes. It is not a threat. It is an insult aimed at Premier Davis combined with a demand for a free and democratic society that embraces true justice. It was misinterpreted in the same manner as Mr. Dunphy’s tweet, out of its organic context.

However, this tweet was different from the one that the RCMP arrested and released me for with an order to appear before a judge. That one was an idle threat I’ll discuss later. Different tweet, different context, different aspect of free speech. I am scheduled to appear before a judge of a lower court in June to discuss the matter. I have no interest in securing legal aide on the matter as I’m comfortable preparing my own case and have an established lawful intention that goes back most of a year in a well documented process.

To get back to Premier Davis’ gutless cowardice, he has our province drowning in so much oil he’s stealing from our future to keep this leaky oil tanker afloat. We can’t bail the political class out anymore. They’re leeches who just want political power and authority. They’ve got no real ideas on how to right their ship because politicians never do. They’re just stealing from Peter to pay Paul. Literally. Let their ship sink.

Newfoundland and Labrador has a bright future, but all in resources that are currently under utilized because educated people are being completely ignored by these Conservative governments. Only 20 percent of the known arable land on the Island is currently producing food. Why are we paying so much to import tiny produce when we could supply all of our own cheaper and provide worthwhile jobs to locals?

Did you know there was a experimental greenhouse in Gander that provided fresh vegetables for 500 US soldiers year round? All the fresh produce they needed was provided by this one greenhouse. Imagine 1000 of these providing all the fresh produce for every family on the island. All organic. Never a worry about ferry service being unable to deliver or poor quality produce. Build them underground, use geothermal heating and tie them into Muskrat Falls to provide power for LED grow lights and Newfoundland and Labrador will never have to import fresh produce again. Ever. Might take ten years to build them all, but why wait? We could break ground on the first of them this summer if this government didn’t have its head jammed so far up its own oil-filled arsehole.

Other resources that are going underutilized are our shellfish wastes. Did you know that crab, lobster and shrimp are rich sources of chitin? Chitin is the amazingly versatile organic compound that will underpin the future for a number of fields. It is also the foundation of my research with insects. Want to know an excellent source of renewable and perfectly biodegradable bioplastic to replace polluting oil-based plastics? Chitin. Want to know how to keep produce from spoiling longer organically? Chitin. Want advanced bandages that speed wound healing? Chitin. Want to use less pesticides to control insects or fungus on crops? Chitin. Bigger flowers with brighter blooms? Chitin. Forget graphene, graphane and carbon nanotubes, one of the most important molecules for the future of our planet is chitin and its derivatives. Newfoundland currently just throws the majority of it away.

The other groups of molecules that Newfoundland has in a unique abundance are dihalogenated acetates based on chlorine, bromine and iodine. These are present in seaweeds. The results of the research I’ve been engaged in since 2007 show that they are an unrecognized vitamin for promoting proper mitochondrial function. I have a hypothesis that these compounds played a key role in the early evolution of multicellular life. They already have a 30+ year history of use in treating metabolic disorders. They were also shown to have a broad spectrum effect on triggering apoptosis in cancerous cells (2007), provided normoxic conditions are present (2010). Their unique, simple and compact shape puts them among the strongest organic molecules capable of reducing oxidative stress. Oxidative stress builds up over time and results in cellular exhaustion through mitochondrial dysfunction. Health Canada continues to claim these compounds are synthetic, despite research from the 60s and 70s and broad rediscovery in marine sources today. Check chemspider. There is plenty of corroboration there.

Between the electrical ties to Labrador, the shellfish, seaweed and farming resources, rural Newfoundland would have a bright, independent future on lock down.

However, the greedy, shortsighted mental midgets running the province from the Avalon think with their guns instead of the brains God gave them. They only want to lay claim to rural Newfoundland to deny others rightful access. They’ll change the Crown Lands Act to reclaim land that they want to exploit, pushing off families who’ve had the land in their families for generations. The Avalon will do to rural Newfoundland what Israel is doing to Palestine, steal the land out from under the families trying to live peacefully. Look at how they’re continuing to cut public services. Look at the cuts to education. Look at the gerrymandering under the guise of budget cuts for MHA representation. If they really wanted to uphold democracy, they’d slash their own salaries in half. Less representation diminishes democracy. Small powerful governments supported by a militaristic police have a tendency to become dictatorships. Ask Richard Squires.

So, as my final statement on the tweet that got me detain, I think that Premier Paul Davis is a useless simpleton that is steering Newfoundland towards economic disaster. He wasn’t even a real cop with the RNC, he was a desk jockey. Head spin doctor for media relations. He’s ignorant of the larger issues at play in the world and the province of Newfoundland and Labrador will suffer further due to his shortsighted stupidity.

To get back to my own issue on the 4th floor, when I found out Dr. Talpur would be conducting both the first and second assessments, I requested a second opinion.

At first, the nurses were a little reticent to discuss the matter, but when I explained my situation to them…

I’ll finish off the Day 2 in the next installment.

On the second day of my detainment strange things began to be revealed.

I had a rough sleep my first night. I had been removed from my home and family over idle threats uttered on Twitter, which are covered under free speech and protected as such. Threats uttered out of frustration, bitterness or despair are considered idle and the State had no lawful reason to detain me.

Imagine someone getting frustrated with their job and exclaiming ‘One day I’d like to burn this place to the ground.’ Later on that day they’re dragged off to be detained for a week of psychological analysis. They are branded dangerous and required to be medicated. It creates severe problems with a free, open and democratic society. Your friends, family and co-workers effectively become the ‘thought police’ as described in 1984. Idle threats become reclassified as a thought crime. No police officers, doctors, nurses, judges or politicians ever need threaten your freedom of speech, your social group does it for you.

Criminalizing idle threats through social groups, whether in the real world or online, will be the end of free speech. It creates a precedent where anyone who vocalizes their feelings of dissent at an unfair system, perverted to benefit those in positions of power, can be imprisoned for their words.

This same kind of criminalization of thought and emotion already exists within the psychiatric system. During my time inside I met other people who had been remanded into the custody of a doctor for similar cases. Simply telling an ex-boyfriend she was so upset over their sudden break up she felt like dying was enough to get one girl I met medicated into oblivion. I’ll call her Sunny. Sunny doesn’t even remember the week she was admitted to the ward due to being so heavily medicated. She’s been locked into the system and her mind ever since. Most days she can barely raise her voice above a whisper.

An intelligent young girl, a university graduate working towards a new career, living in her own apartment with her own vehicle… a life obliterated by a single utterance. An idle threat spoken in anger, bitterness, frustration and despair over a break up, misused by someone who had already dissolved their relationship. That misuse ended with Sunny being remanded into semi-permanent custody where she’s not even allowed to request a second opinion from another doctor.

During her stay, while trying to deal with her existing issues, Sunny made friends on the ward. Two of these friends would later go on to end their lives. Sunny is expected to mentally and emotionally heal in a situation where she’s been told something is wrong with her emotions, then she’s denied the ability to grieve the loss of her friends. To me, this illustrates the kind of endemic psychosis present in the system.

I’ll repeat what I said before in regards to all the cops, nurses and doctors I met during my detainment/vacation. All good people. I felt no malicious intent from any of them, aside from the lawyer for the hospital. Him, and others of his ilk, are perfectly comfortable with being malicious for money. They are employed by a system designed to confer authority over their fellow man. It doesn’t matter if the reason for someone being remanded into their authority is lawful or not.

Before I go on further, I’d like to talk a little about what I observed on the ward.

In regards to the ward itself, the environment they’ve created to allow people to heal is so cut off from anything natural or organic its astounding. Not even a single plastic plant breaks the grey monotony. Everything is neutral-toned, old, and the ceiling is covered with rust spots from ancient leaks. The facility is kept clean, but the beds are small, plastic-lined and uncomfortable. The food is largely atrocious, with most meals being barely recognizable as food. The soup was good though, probably the most nutritious item on the menu. Other than that, for breakfast you might find a single slice of bread and a bowl of gruel or dried scrambled eggs that have the consistency of styrofoam. Even clean water is in limited supply. There is a dispenser, but its kept in the nurse’s station. You have to wait until a nurse is available to be able to fill a tiny shotglass with water and ice.

Besides the fact that everything is made of plastic or metal, there are some decorations meant to add depth or levity to the surroundings. Two of them stand out the most in my memory.

The first is a quote from a film actor about how no one hates nurses… unless you’re getting an enema. Why would this be there? Is it some sort of sick joke to remind patients that nurses have the authority to hold them down and perform strange operations against their will? Is the joke supposed to be funny for the nurses or the patients? Perhaps someone in ‘management’ didn’t realize it would be inappropriate to create an adversarial climate between the nurses and their charges. Who ever decided that it would be a good idea to joke about rectally violating patients obviously didn’t put much thought into their message.

The other item that comes to mind is this tree painted onto the wall. It’s supposed to be some sort ‘Tree of Wellness’, but it sends very twisted and ignorant messages. For starters, the tree looks like it’s dying or it’s late fall and losing its leaves. The tree only has a single leaf on each branch, which in most cases looked to have separated from the branch and is in the process of falling instead of being still attached. The tree also has labels written next to each leaf to indicate their importance towards being a healthy person. Some of the names of the leaves are ‘confidence,’ ‘success’ and ‘spirituality.’ This is where the symbolism in the tree draws on the assumptions of psychology which turn it from a non-science based on expertise at judging symptoms, into a religion.

In my own understanding, spirituality forms the root of the tree all things spring from, not a branch. A rich man doesn’t have a better chance of being spiritual than a poor man because he’s already obtained success and confidence. If anything, that confidence rooted in non-spiritual ground prevents that person from ever truly questioning their foundation. Spirituality is given lip service by psychologists and psychiatrists. The religious views of patients are to be respected, but largely ignored. This tree represents a very flawed viewpoint that turns the so-called science of psychology into a fundamentally flawed religion. That flawed religion has also evolved its own version of the Inquisition.

Again, let me be clear, I had no problems with the nurses or doctors themselves during my stay on their ward. They followed their orders to the letter and never gave me any issues whatsoever. My purpose in referring to this particular implementation of psychiatry as ‘The Inquisition’ relates to the healing process that is supposed to occur in this place. Healing through interrogation is about as effective as preaching religion to someone you’re torturing. No trust develops. The psychiatrists in charge of the patients are not therapists. From my discussions with the patients, their doctors appear concerned more with diagnosing side effects of the drugs they’re prescribing than addressing the underlying experience of those under their care. Caring for the patient’s mental wellbeing isn’t their job. Their job is to balance out the cornucopia of medication the patient is receiving.

Treating people as a collection of symptoms denies their inner world. It denies the pain they may be experiencing in favor of treating these natural emotional responses purely as a side effect of some underlying disorder. It ignores root causes completely. Perhaps a person has a strong emotional response to a situation that’s arisen in their life they have developed no mental or emotional processes to deal with. Will muting that pain with medication teach them those needed skills? Will it help them deal with similar situations that emerge in the future? Will it stop the triggering of memories associated with those events from being dragged them kicking and screaming back into the light? Of course not. It just masks or veils those issues in favor of squeezing the person back into their lives.

Who’s fault is it that situations like this have arisen? Surprisingly, it’s neither the doctors who practice their flawed religion of pills, nor the nurses who support them. What I see as the main reason for the current state of despair in the mental health system is a lack of adequate funding and a mismanagement of existing funds. Talking to the nurses and patients, I was told that around the turn of the century the system had much better funding. Understand that? Before Newfoundland and Labrador became a ‘have’ province, we had a better mental health care system.

Since coming into our own financially, so much money has been cut from the system that the ratio of patients to nurses has diminished significantly. Nurses in the ward are so overworked that they only have time to do certain necessary tasks. They deliver pills, take blood pressure and fill out paperwork. Their role as therapists in the healing process has been reduced to that of automatons. They’re forced to ask patients disturbing questions like ‘Do you have any thoughts of suicidal or homicidal ideation?’ instead of simply inquiring how people are feeling. Rather than having the time to provide the feelings of security, stability and trust needed for people to heal their mental wounds, they’re reduced to poking and prodding the people under their care. It leaves the whole process resembling a futuristic version of the Spanish Inquisition. Even Inquisitors thought that they were doing their jobs for the good of the souls they were torturing.

Beyond the limitations placed on nurses in their roles as therapists, there is another problem that compounds viewing the 4th floor ward as a place of healing. It’s used as a dumping ground for people with a tendency towards uncontrolled acts of violence and aggression. When I was first admitted, the ward still bore the scars of one such outburst. The patient’s phone had been destroyed by a patient who lost control of himself and began throwing chairs. A long scar marked the window of the nurse’s station where he tried to break through. How are patients supposed to remain calm and heal their wounds when the possiblity of a violence from which they can’t escape intrudes on their peace?

RNC officers are mandated by the Mental Health Act to bring certain types of offenders to the ward for observation and treatment. Once they’ve delivered that person into the care of the nurses and doctors, their obligation towards them ends. As the patients on the ward are the ones who share their living and sleeping space with these violent offenders, it is their peace of mind that is inherently violated by these events. Without a separate place to bring violent offenders, every time one is introduced to the ward the risk of creating an environment toxic to healing is further compounded.

I’m going to split this day into two posts to keep my own timeline of events separate from my observations of the ward. The events of my own life during this time are only used to illustrate the on-going abuse of process. The people who really need help at this point are the patients, doctors, and nurses who are overworked and overburdened by a system that cares nothing for the importance of their often thankless work.

I write this post in the hopes that people will gain further understanding of why I did what I did.

We’ve gone so far astray from what made us human we’re practically robots, going through the motions of being people. We care more about our possessions and our immediate family than we do about our neighbors. As a result, we can witness grave atrocities and pretend they’re acceptable. Sometimes we’ll even go so far as to justify them, despite that we forfeit our souls in doing so.

All it takes is a few lies in the social narrative. Lies lack the weight of truth. They unbalance us. They leave us prone to greater failings and make it difficult for us to see eye to eye with each other.

Sometimes the lies fester for so long they overtake us in our daily lives. They affect how we see our friends and our families. They make us distrustful of strangers. They leave us defenseless against those who manipulate the truth to suit their needs.

The only way to return to the common ground where humanity’s tree has been planted is to accept hard truths.

Just because someone has authority over you, doesn’t mean they deserve to have it.

Just because someone has a piece of paper that tells the world they’re an expert, doesn’t mean they don’t make mistakes.

It also doesn’t mean that expert won’t lie to your face to protect the unquestioned status of their authority.

Don Dunphy’s case is a good example of that.

Some people may wonder why I’ve taken such a hard stand on the Gaza issue. To me the origin of what drove me to these extents was my nephew’s death and how it became linked with that land in my mind. When he first took ill, Israel and Gaza had just resumed their hostilities. They announced a ceasefire the day he died.
Many would call this a mere coincidence, but for me this short, brutal war felt like another shard of my then fracturing soul. When it ended, it felt like a minor miracle had been performed to counterbalance the tragedy my family was experiencing. Here we stood a month prior to the fabled 12-21-12 of the Mayan calendar, the End of the World to some, and peace had erupted on the most wartorn part of the planet at the same time as the death of an infant. I was shaken to my core. It felt like my world had just ended.

Unlike the rest of my family, I had no real support system in place. I was left to fend for myself with my emotions in turmoil. I was also alienated from them by the truths I’d later spoken when the anonymous letter came out and that alienation has since become permanent.

It’s difficult to tell people who put so much faith in the system they’re practically worshiping it that they’ve been fed falsity. The cognitive dissonance alone produces anger and hateful statements. No one likes to admit they’ve fallen for a lie. It makes them embarrassed and ashamed. Having that lie be tied to such deep grief makes it all the more difficult.

When Merlin died, it wasn’t his death that tore at me as much as the stark reminder of how much my family had suffered when my nephew passed. I loved Merlin, but my nephew was my blood. Even a year and a half later, the unhealed wounds and feeling of alienation at being denied truth by my family still gnawed at me.

As a person of faith I try to see all good people as part of my extended family. This made the new Israel-Gaza situation that much harder to bear. In my mind it was already tied to the feeling of familial loss through my nephew. Seeing people that could be distant relatives in so much pain over the deaths of their families, only a month after Merlin’s passing had brought my nephew back to the forefront of my mind, I was too raw to bear the sight of it.

When I started the petition and filed charges, some Palestinian people began tweeting the most horrific pictures of dead and dying children at me. Without any sort of emotional defense prepared, the scale of the pain these people were experiencing crippled me. I had to beg them to stop showing me the truth as I felt as though my heart was being flayed open every time I checked my notifications. It made it difficult to keep talking to people on Twitter about the charges and the petition as I’d be constantly worried that new and more horrific photos would show at any moment.

When the charges were finally dismissed, the anger and frustration at my inability to do anything solidified into a determined outrage. I would not be able to simply ignore what I’d seen. To many innocents had died because of Canada’s support for this genocidal war.

Flash forwards to April 7th.

One of the first things I remember doing the day I was pulled in was checking for updates on the Don Dunphy story. I’d seen that media had spun the tweet in a negative light the previous day, but were grudgingly offering a summary of the associated tweets as a link within the article.

Not content with the reaction I was seeing online, including visibly disturbed fellow Twitter users expressing their anxiety about how quickly Don’s death was being covered up, I called my RCMP contact for information. He updated me that his report on the formal complaint regarding the dismissed genocide charges had been filed months ago and that he was a surprised I hadn’t heard anything yet. I asked him if he’d heard anything about the Dunphy issue and he told me it was outside his jurisdiction. I thanked him for his time and went back to look for more information online.

Reading through the stuff coming up on Twitter, the Premier’s office was making announcements about stricter policies concerning social media, rather than acknowledging a mistake had been made. They were going with the story that a family man had just snapped and the authority had to legitimately slap him down with capital punishment.

To me, this was just another senseless death that someone in authority was trying to justify to save his own position of power. Another form of senseless human sacrifice directed at families. At this point, the anger got the better of me and I crafted the tweet that go me arrested, but not before I peppered the Premier’s Twitter account with accusations of cowardice and covering up for a murder.

The tweet itself I’ll paraphrase as I’m writing this without access to the Internet to check it, but it went something like this:

‘How about this one @PremierOfNL:

I’m going to bring down Confederation and have politicians executed.

Ready to have me shot, coward?’

Understood in the context of my Charter Challenge and the genocide charges I’ve been pursuing, I’m talking about the ‘Confederation of Canada’ and ‘judicial execution’. Too much power has been invested in the Federal government. That power has allowed them to commit crimes against humanity, including inciting genocide. For that they should be tried, and if found guilty, judicially executed.

I was also calling Davis a coward for continuing to push the line that the execution of Mr. Dunphy was justified. I’ve since explained my speculations on what I think happened in the preamble of this series. It might have simply been a case of accidental manslaughter, until the Premier’s office tried to legitimize it as the necessary execution of a mentally ill old man.

But the cowardly Premier and his staff of crack twitter experts took my tweet without any context, the same way they did Don’s. They took one look at my tweet, my last name and the beard I was sporting in my updated Driver’s License photo and decided I must be a terrorist. The end result would see me certified insane after a five minute analysis for questioning their authority.

The first thing that let me know something was about to go down was a phone call from the RNC. Since filing my charges in July, they’ve had my number on file. Due to this, calling me up at my home was easy to do, unlike Don.

They requested I come into the station and informed me that I may be arrested. I told them they were operating without context again and I had no interest in discussing the issue until after my Charter Challenge was complete. Following my day in court, I was willing to come in to discuss the matter.

The officer became insistent at this point, saying that if I didn’t come to their Station for 1PM that day, they’d come to my house to for their ‘follow up.’

At no point during the discussion did I resort to base insults, but when the officer threatened to send people with guns to my home over a tweet, I let them have an earful.

The sad truth is that many police no longer deserve to be armed. Many of them are too keyed up with the desire to have their sense of authority maintained. They’re too quick to reach for their guns. It’s like they think they’re cowboys and this is the Wild West. Any member of the public can be a dangerous desperado aiming to gun them down so they’re always prepared to shoot first and ask questions later.

This kind of mentality shows the sickness that’s infected police, not just in Newfoundland, but all over the world. They’re no longer viewed as the integrated heroes of communities by themselves anymore, but simple paid enforcers of a social order handed down from above. They have job security and a pension. Upholding the law isn’t their job anymore. Their job is simply to follow orders.

This mentality was rife in Nazi Germany. To see it emerging in Newfoundland is disgusting.

Once I’d been informed that the officer would be sending people with guns into the home of my family, I loudly voiced my outrage at the veiled threat. I said those kinds of threats amounted to state terrorism of the public. When asked if I’d changed my mind, I told them that I’d be waiting for them with coffee.

The sad thing is the RNC at this particular station filed the original genocide charges which were covered in local media. They should have understood the context of my tweet since my Charter Challenge was occurring only a few buildings away from their station. But it didn’t matter at this point, someone had decided something had to be done about me.

I set about making some coffee and cleaning some cups, as well as informing people on Twitter the RNC were coming for me. I let the Western Star know. I called my RCMP contact back and left a message to let them know I was about to be taken in. I also went across the street to buy cigarettes and let the staff of the local corner store know that something was about to go down, but advised them to stay calm and not worry.

The RNC showed up around 3. They came to my door and asked if they could come in. I said yes and asked if they wanted to come in for coffee. They declined, confirmed my identity, then began reading me my rights. At this point both myself and Misha began asking what the charges were to be. It turned out that no charges were pending, but that they were going to detain me under the Mental Health Act.

This is where the situation becomes unlawful. I have no mental disorder, I am quite rational and non-violent, just angry at the injustice of the world. To detain someone under the Mental Health Act, certain conditions had to be met. Signed documents had to be provided. None of this was done. Instead, I had the RNC standing in my doorway with their hands on their guns demanding that l come with them, refusing to even shut the door to keep too much of my home heat from escaping.

While the officers acted without any directed hostility towards me, they were also unwilling to budge on the matter. They were dutybound by their orders to bring me in. They did lead me to believe that there was a possibility that the issue could be resolved through a discussion at the hospital, so after a few minutes of frustration I relented. I grabbed the documents for my Charter Challenge and peacefully left my home of my own volition. I was not dragged. The officers never even had to lay a hand on me. I didn’t like the idea of armed people around my family and at that point I simply wanted the guns out of my home.

One of the officers would later tell me that if I’d offered him a spot of tea, he might have relented. I figured he was making friendly small talk, but he had a good point and I had no hard feelings towards him. Coffee certainly doesn’t help people relax. I’ve since taken his advice and switched to tea.

Upon arriving at the hospital with my armed escort, I was taken into triage and admitted as a patient. After filing the required paperwork, they moved me from triage into the room reserved for violent individuals. The picture of this room was the last I tweeted as I was being thrown into detainment. My phone and other items were taken from me and I was left to wait for the doctor to arrive.

During this time I had a few chats with the RNC officers who brought me in. I tried to let them know that I understood they were just doing their job, but that they were making the same mistake they had made with Don. It didn’t matter, they had their orders and the situation had to unfold. My fate was out of their hands.

When the first doctor came in, Dr. Thistle, we shook hands, exchanged a few pleasantries and he left. The only thing memorable about him was that at the time I thought I saw a distortion in his right iris so I tried not to stare at it and make him uncomfortable. Thinking back, it might have been my own reflection I was seeing in his eye. Either way, we only spoke for a few moments before he left. I wasn’t angry, irrational or incoherent when we spoke. However, I was a little nervous about the situation as I had a doctor trying to assess me surrounded by armed RNC officers who had just taken me from me home. He would later write that I seemed a little ‘paranoid’ about the situation and that word would be the ‘diagnosis’ that the lawyer for the hospital would use to keep me detained for a longer period.

My roommate, a much bigger person than I, would later tell me about being admitted at the same time. As he walked by the room I was being kept in, he saw half a dozen cops in the area and wondered what could possibly be going down. When he saw me, with my beard, he assumed I must have been some sort of terrorist mastermind that they’d caught. At the time he’d worried that I might end up in the same ward, much less the same room. He would later change his mind after getting to know me. His family would be just as shocked when they learned the truth of the situation.

After the first doctor left, I was seen by a tiny fragile female Hindu psychiatrist who would certify me as insane five minutes later. I tried to explain the context of my tweets and my Charter Challenge to her. I would later find out she was hard of hearing, so I don’t even know if she was actually listening to me. She finished her assessment quickly and left the room.

Shortly after this meeting, while waiting to hear the results, I requested I be allowed to speak with Misha. I hadn’t seen her since we’d arrived together and I wanted to make sure she was ok. I passed along the phone to her and told her I’d seen the psychiatrist. She left the room to inquire as to the doctor’s opinion and was informed that I had been assessed with the same profile as the Ottawa Shooter. They wanted to keep me under observation for a month.

Upon hearing that I could be pulled into detainment for a month based solely on the opinion of people who didn’t know me, Misha got upset and left. There was nothing she could do. Being from Russia, she had a pre-existing fear of how psychiatry could be politicized by those in authority. She’d knew stories of dissenters who would disappear into the system, never to be heard from again. Despite my attempts to warn her that Newfoundland hadn’t gotten that bad yet, she left visibly shaken by the events.

Shortly after this occurred, I was taken up to the 4th floor and shown my new home away from home. I didn’t have anything with me other than the clothes on my back and my Charter Challenge. I met with my assigned nurse for an entry interview and was assigned a nicotine patch to help with the fact that I wasn’t allowed to leave the ward. I explained my Charter Challenge issue to the nurse and was informed that the Hospital had an obligation to let me speak my case before a judge. This would change the following day.

Once finished with my entry interview and my tour of the facilities, I popped down to the public computer room and hopped on Twitter and Facebook to let people know what happened to me. The following day the hospital cut the entire ward’s internet access off to keep me from speaking publicly to anyone further.

After a few words online, I called the Western Star and let them know where I was being detained. They offered to send a photographer the following day, but I told them they’d have to make sure pictures were taken off ward. I didn’t want to violate the privacy of the other patients.

After all this, I went back to the public room and made a few new friends. The first person I chose to speak with had a small crowd of other patients around her and she looked very friendly. I’ll call her Red Sonya. We chatted for a while and exchanged stories. She was very intelligent and insightful and as a former truck driver had a great deal of stories to tell. She also provided me with the book I’d read during my first three days in detainment, ‘The Jester’ by James Patterson. As the climax of the book ends with an excommunicated former jester leading a revolt against the evil ‘Lord Stephen,’ it was the best book I’d read in a while and exactly what I needed to lift my spirits.

After a very trying day full of context-removed tweets, phone calls, guns and psychiatrists. I was glad to get some sleep. I knew I’d have a discussion with a new psychiatrist for my baseline assessment in the morning. Without a half dozen officers present I felt it would be much easier to discuss what brought me in.

I was in for a surprise though the following morning when I learned that the same tiny Hindu woman who had interviewed me for five minutes would be the doctor conducting the second assessment. I felt this to be unusual. The first doctor signed my papers after conferring with her the first evening, now she was providing the second assessment signature as well? To me it seemed like a violation of the process. The same doctor would offer her opinion twice after already being influenced by the first situation with the RNC.

At this point, I requested to be seen by a second doctor. I didn’t want to be interviewed by someone who’d already decided I was just like the Ottawa Shooter after a five minute discussion.

This brings me up to the end of my first 24 hours of detainment. There will be some overlap of days as I try to sort out the details, but I’ll try to keep it as coherent as possible.

The next installment in ‘My Life of Certified Insanity,’ will be out after I get some details of my current life sorted out. I’m without Internet or phone access from my home now and have had all my computers, research and business materials seized. I can’t even contact the RCMP or my lawyer without walking to the store. I’ve been left with no way to earn money or proceed with any of the projects I’ve been working on these past few years.

Long term food sustainability for Newfoundland as well as the cure for cancer and other oxidative stress disorders will apparently have to wait.