My story or as I like to call this 'my incarnation' ...

It all started in Sydney , Australia

I was born in the early 1960s at St George Public Hospital in a place called Kogarah, a southern suburb of Sydney, NSW, Australia. I was the 2nd son of what would become a family of 4 kids (I have heard allegations about other siblings I have never met). We were poor and my childhood was far from normal, in some ways tragic yet in other ways exhilarating. Throughout life I was to discover so much of my past was intentionally hidden especially by my parents. I was also programmed to forget. Such is the life of a ritual abuse and MKUltra survivor.

The abuse started before birth and I was 2 months premature (my parents were already trying to kill each other - literally). After birth the abuse started very young and because my body was not safe at home, in order to survive as a child I had to escape my body and live in the spiritual realms. With the MKUltra experimentation and being dosed on LSD as a kid then that didn't become safe so I then had to find somewhere else to go to and so I lived in my imagination.

My mother adored my older brother, but as he was blond hair and blue eyes my father who had dark hair and green eyes, accused my mother of affairs despite him sleeping around everywhere.

In 2nd class (age 7) we moved to Mt Druitt. It was a public housing city built by the government in Western Sydney. 100,000 people, average age 11. We had meager possessions though Dad didn't care as he wasn't often there and looked after himself well. In third class we had to escape the violence and so went to a relatives for 3 months only to come back and find that Dad had given away everything we had which wasn't much, there wasn't even toilet paper left in the toilet.

My father cared only about himself. He always worked and had a good wage but it seemed to go on his clothes, his socialising and of course his beer. My siblings and I never seemed to have anything, basic food, basic clothes, no toys, little to no outings. Dad would come and go as he pleased and would disappear for extended periods of time during which time often we had no electricity, no car, no phone and we got cans of food and used clothes from charities. When Dad was in the house typically he would be demanding, nasty (he enjoyed hurting people including us kids), or if he came home drunk really violent. I was repeatedly beaten, whipped, bashed and numerous times he either threatened me or tried to kill me a little malnourished kid.

At around the age of 10 my parents took my siblings and I to Narrabeen Beach, a beach on the northern beaches of Sydney. The beach was closed due to dangerous surf and there were signs up everywhere saying no swimming. I a little kid from the western suburbs didn't know how to swim, just dog paddle. My father took my older brother Rick and I into the surf and when my father reached the rip he let me go into it. Very quickly I was swept up the beach and out towards the headland. He didn't come after me and my mother on the beach just watched. The waves were tumultuous and I remember being plunged into the depths and my lungs burning as I struggled to hold my breath. Thankfully a young lone surfer walking along the beach came to my rescue and put my onto his board which was picked up by a huge wave and again I was plunged into the depths. Thankfully he and I got washed up the beach, he was throwing up and I was exhausted. My mother told me off for not thanking him and I was bundled into the car and taken home. My parents wern't happy that I had survived.

At the age of 12 my mother took my younger siblings up to Tweed Heads where they were experimented on. While she was up there my father took Rick and I up near Govett's Leap to throw us off the cliffs. I remember walking along the path to the lookout with Dad, Rick and our dog Lucky. Rick and I wern't dressed for the mountain air and we had no food or drink. But there were too many people around so Dad gave up and brought us home again.

Another time while Rick was on crutches and unable to walk Dad took us to an inaccessible spot at Glenbrook in the Blue Mountains and put Rick next to a deadly brown snake. Thankfully it slithered off.

Outings were not normal for us and the only time we seemed to be taken anywhere was when they had nefarious intentions. Visitors also were not welcome to the house. However what helped Rick and I was typically we were told to get out of the house at breakfast and not allowed to come back in till the street lights came on, so we would disappear to friends farms, go down the river and get out in nature. We were little, skinny, malnourished kids and would try and find fruit in orchards or farms along the way.

At times I could take the abuse no more and screamed at my father who on each occasion subsequently tried to kill me. A brick thrown at my face and I just ducked in time, the solid oak six seater dining table thrown at me another time and another time his fists in my face telling me he would kill me unless I complied. Once when I confronted him he kept screaming at me over and over again 'you're insane, you're insane' as though he was trying to convince himself that I was. His level of disassociation at times was extreme. Like my mother they were incapable of taking responsibility for their behaviour and if confronted would typically resort to lying. Both my parents were seriously damaged people and not unlike the soldiers in the movie the Manchurian candidate.

By the mid 70s my parents marriage had run its course and then we 'progressed' into years of restraining orders against my violent father. All of a sudden with Dad gone there was pornographic material all around the house courtesy of my mother and strange men everywhere, many who she was sleeping with and many who she would boast to me were pedophiles.

With Dad gone my mother then also doubled down on me. She treated me like an outcast to the other 3 kids and I was typically excluded from everything and treated as worthless. As a teenager my mother grabbed me one day looked me in the eyes and told me she wished I was dead. Not long after that she told me she wanted me out of the house. I asked her where was I meant to go and she said she didn't care. The only place I had was the streets. She then tried to convince me I was insane and finally hauled me off to a psychiatrist who thankfully told her that she was the problem. That truth infuriated her even more and knew I had to get out of home for my own safety. But I needed to finish school in order to get into university. I worked part time at McDonalds to save up the money for uni, while trying to study for my HSC and deal with her trying to derail my ambitions while also abusing me for doing well at school. So I became quiet and made myself scarce and somehow, and miraculously got the grades to scrape into university.

So just after turning 18 and having my acceptance letter for University I gleefully left home. As I drove off with friends and my meager possessions my mother stood on the front verandah looking like an utter failure. I felt exhilarated and felt that now I could create the future I wanted. My sister later told me when my mother walked back inside she feigned tears and my sister said she thought 'you bitch, you are the one that drove him away'.

I was now living my dream now of putting myself through Uni. I was living with friends which was a struggle as I didn't know how to express my opinion as I hadn't been allowed to do so at home and when I had it had been life threatening. So I struggled and let people walk over me. I had massive anxiety issues and had to seat in the back seat of church, back seat of the bus, struggled walking across crossings because people looked at me and I hated being the centre of attention of groups. I didn't know why. After a year I moved again and this time in with some girls from church who were a lot more nurturing. That went well till the owner wanted their apartment back and so I had to move again. I was excelling at my studies and living off my savings and government support. Neither of my parents ever gave me a cent or were cared or were concerned about my studies or well being. My narcissistic father boasted at how good he was that his son was in Uni despite that I had cut him off completely and my mother continued trying to undermine me if ever I made an appearance so kept my distance and didn't visit her. Unbeknown to me she was exposing my younger siblings to all sorts of risks at the time.

Even away from home I felt like every day I was dragging a ball and chain of emotion around with me that was bigger than a room. One day I remember screaming "whats wrong with me". I could feel the trauma in my body but I couldn't place where it came from. At the same time I was totally petrified of anything sexual and would shake uncontrollably if anyone made advances towards me and so sexual interactions and relationships were impossible for me. Also I was so used to being hit by my mother so much if anyone near me even scratched their head I would instinctively duck and then feel mortified and embarrassed when I'd done so.

At age 19 I moved in with my older brother Rick at Bondi, a famous beach in Sydney. We got on well and for the first time in life I had someone I could genuinely call family in that he treated me with value. We laughed a lot and we both were in fitness. We cooked crazy meals and he had a lovely girlfriend Terri who was really nice to me. One day while at class in Uni I got called down the office and the police were waiting for me. Rick had been killed that morning and then the Police took me (not my parents) at age 20 to identify my brothers body at the morgue. I felt shattered into a million pieces. I was devastated. The police thought it was a huge joke. Through Ricks death I reconnected with my narcissistic parents again. My father blamed my mother for Ricks death but didn't say why. I had to arrange the funeral as they wouldn't stop screaming at each other at the funeral parlour. At the wake my mother said to relatives why couldn't it have been one of the other kids (me) that died instead of Rick. Rick died during the satanic week of sacrifice at age 22 (4) on the 22nd (4) of April (4th Month) 1982. In 2020 4 police officers died on the same day of the year that Rick died. A friend said it was likely a satanic ritual and that the Victorian Police were allegedly very involved in the occult. After Ricks death I moved in with relatives for a year and then moved to Coogee. I couldn't move back in with my mother she was so destructive and my father because of personal safety issues I did not continue any contact with.

Age 25 I got married and lived in southern Sydney beaches and with my wife where we got involved in the local church. Whilst at a church camp, incest memories surfaced with my father and I was totally devastated. When I told my younger brother who was with me on the camp as well he burst into tears and told me of all of his abuse, including sexual abuse from our parents. Two weeks later he came to me and claimed he had lied. I knew he hadn't, I knew my mother had got to him. At the same time both my younger siblings told me the same story of my mother taking them both to Tweed heads to be experimented on. Later they both tried to make out they had an identical dream.

Age 30 when my daughter was born I couldn't look at her because I had an overwhelming sense of death. I didn't understand why as I was sooo delighted to have her born as I loved being a Dad. Not long after more memories started flooding back of my father firmly holding my hand on a knife while I was a young 3 year old boy during the ritually sacrifice of a little 3 year old girl. My father then blamed me for her murder and told me I killed her. He and his mate Donny thought it was hilarious.

In my early thirties at a meeting for survivors of sexual abuse a woman came up to me and asked me did I know what Dissociative Identity Disorder was. I said no. She said her kids had it as a result of abuse by their father and as she explained what it was my body went into severe reactions. I ran from the room to the bathroom. I felt like I was going to shit myself and throw up at the same time. I alternated between fevers and shivering. I felt like I was going to pass out. I was going into a meltdown. I hid there for a while till I could make it to my car and then waited till I was safe enough to drive home. For the next 3 months I thought I had gone totally insane and threw myself into work as a distraction but I was hanging by a thread. All of a sudden the disconnected parts were aware of each other and I wasn't coping. I needed help and managed to find a therapist experienced in disassociation who helped me navigate the next 10 years without losing it.

Not long after the government advertised a program on the radio called Operation Paradox. I couldn't listen to it as it was too triggering however I felt that I needed to report the memories that were surfacing. I went to the local police station and they said it sounds like ritual satanic abuse. I was shocked, I didn't know what that was. Talking to friends I was given a contact in the Federal Police who helped with a letter to the NSW Homicide Squad. They turned up at the door with a carload of detectives (mild intimidation) and one came to the door with a huge folder under his arm, smirking to give me a card to call someone else in his department. It didn't feel good.

When I went into the Homicide Squad in Cleveland Street in Sydney. I was shaking. I waited and waited. After half an hour the officer who turned up at my door came out to reception smirking. He said the officer I was to see had to go to Glebe Morgue - where I had identified Rick's body. That was red flag one. He then led me to the lift where another officer turned up and as they walked into the lift he grabbed the other officers genitals and they both looked at me and laughed - red flag 2 - I was there over sexual abuse allegations. We then got out and the office floor was devoid of people - red flag 3. We then sat in a glass fronted office and I went through the list of murders, rapes, pedophilia, bashings etc that my father had done and he seemed unperturbed. He said that they needed to have me hypnotised to validate my testimony - red flag 4. I'd had enough so I told him I would think about it and left.

Naively I had thought I would get help from this in Government in having my father incarcerated so he couldn't commit any more crimes against children in particular but also against other adults as well. It was a huge shock as to how slimy and corrupt the police were and how eager they were are are to protect him.

Kogarah & MKUltra

Kogarah, a southern suburb of Sydney, NSW Australia. Home of St George Public Hospital and later St George Private Hospital. Home of the St George Dragons rugby league team who won a record number of premierships after the Melbourne Olympics and around the same time that hypnosis and mind control was active in Kogarah.

My father's crimes

Many of these crimes have been reported to the police by myself and allegedly by others. We were ignored. Many of these were sent to journalists who likewise ignored them.

My father and Donnie Warren were the leaders of Shannies Gang that met at Shannies Hotel in Hurstville. Allegedly they would offer girls lifts home from the dances and then rape them on the way. Allegedly my father was on charges for one of these rapes but got off.

Allegedly my father assaulted other members of his gang/patrons there.

Allegedly Shannies gang would also go into Sydney on poofter bashing outings. On one of these outings allegedly my father allegedly confessed to my mother about drowning a gay man in the fountain in Hyde Park in Sydney and then stole his watch. I submitted this to the Gay hate Crime Royal Commission and it was ignored.

Allegedly he cowardly king hit a guy from behind at a dance in Georges Hall. The guy died. My father's friends covered for him. My fathers nickname was the phantom because he would disappear.

Allegedly all the cult sacrifices, pedophilia, murders and so on.

Death of a neighbour who lived in the same house. No investigation.

Murder of his female relative while he was living with her. She was found strangled under the bed by the kids the next morning. Dad wasn't investigated.

Lyndsay McLeod attempted murder. Dad worked with the husband at Sylvania Hotel and was allegedly having an affair with his wife at the time.

Wanda Murders. Allegedly he came home that day with sand in his shoes and said the bitches deserved it.

Allegedly assaulted a woman in Nowra and then threatened my sister and her partner. Nowra police who were called and when they arrived at the scene and saw Dad refused to get involved and left.

Allegedly harassed his mother for her home until she died of a heart attack.

Allegedly assaulted his younger brother at his home.

Allegedly tried to kill my mother numerous times, allegedly once throwing her through the window, another time giving her an overdose of sleeping pills after which she was rushed to hospital to have her stomach pumped, repeatedly bashing her till she was bloodied and so on. He threatened to kill her many more times.

Trying to kill me numerous times as a child.

Sexually assaulted myself and all my siblings throughout our childhood including repeated rape as well as trafficking us.

Allegedly there were other assaults where walking down the street he heard a man laughing and thought the guy was laughing at him so started bashing him. Another time he allegedly believe God told him a man was evil and so went and started bashing him. He was also imprisoned for 3 months for deserting my mother while she was giving birth to my younger brother.

And the above doesn't include the alleged numerous affairs my father had, including with my mothers mother for 4 years. Then there were the alleged affairs with under aged girls (apparently his specialty) including neighbors children.

He had no boundaries and everything was about self gratification.

And how much more did he do that I don't know about. He was away from home much more than he was there so what did he get up to then?

Well after all this the government gave him a security license which allowed him to work as a security guard on public trains. Later the government gave him a taxi drivers license to work with the public. Again where allegedly he committed more assaults. Also both jobs gave him direct access to children. I guess the police waived their checks on him or wiped his record clean. Why?

And despite all the above, Richard 'Dick' McIntyre being potentially one of the worst serial killers and rapists in Australia's history the government repeatedly refused and refuses to investigate. The question is why does the government protect such a heinous man? Was he also working for intelligence as Max McIntyre, Rachel Vaughn's father was? Who also was not investigated or charged by the police despite having an alleged record for heinous crimes including involvement in the Beaumont Children's murders. Allegedly both men are related, of similiar ages and allegedly way too well connected to compromised people in power to ever pay for their crimes.

What does that tell you about the people in power? What does that tell you about the CIA in Australia?. You know it would seem from history it doesn't matter what crime you commit, if you are connected to the CIA you get to walk free.

My mother's crimes

For years I believed my mothers lie that she was a victim. She would repeat that narrative to me ad nauseam about what my father had done to her and still did to her. So whilst I despised her for the repeated ongoing vicious assaults she did to me as a child (and how she repeatedly tried to destroy me as an adult) I still felt sorry for her and tried to protected her, support her and help her. Also in that was my misguided belief that one day as a mother she would love me and so I tried to win her love. Instead as my life went on I discovered that the depth of her hatred for me was far deeper than I realised.

Right from birth the lies began. Only in recent years through access to hospital records did I find everything she told me about my birth was a lie. And it wasn't from my records I got my birth info, because they were all destroyed but it was from her records which weren't. I wasn't 7 weeks premature, I wasn't meant to be born on Christmas day and so on. I found the more I researched my past the more I found the things she told me about me were often distractions to lead me away from the truth.

From a very early age the neglect began. I wasn't breastfed, I wasn't cuddled I was intentionally and purposefully told I was there to be seen and not heard. I was also typically left to my own devices and at times wandered the streets with my older brother Rick and at times by myself. At one stage, around 3 I was gone for the day only to be found late afternoon walking around a shopping centre by myself eating an ice cream.

By the age of 5 my brother and I were wandering the streets alone together, often many kilometers from home, crawling down drainpipes and wandering in them for hours, running across shop roofs, going to isolated swamps and so on. In kindergarten and primary school I would walk home alone from the school even though it was around a kilometer away. My parents idea of parenting was to tell my brother and I not to talk to strangers and that strangers were dangerous. At home I would be locked under the stairs in the pitch black as punishment for disobedience and I was desperately unhappy as during this time were also the MKUltra experiments and I would lie in the gutter and cry. I remember a vivid dream where I was this beautiful red balloon floating up in the sky without a care in the world. And then I heard my mothers voice and the balloon turned to lead and I plummeted towards the ground.

When we moved out west my mother and fathers fights progressively got worse. She would scream at him and he would bash her, often till she was bleeding. We would be ordered to our rooms but I couldn't. My hell was between my bedroom door and my bed where I would stand frozen unable to go out of the door for fear of being bashed and unable to go to bed because of her screams and so I would stand there and sob. At times she would scream out to me to help and I would put myself between her and dad only to be shoved across the room, belted or bashed. She would ask me to run to the neighbours to call the police, and I would fly out the door to the neighbours, sobbing begging them to call the police, but they didn't want to get involved. Eventually the police came, Dad went to bed and so she sat calmly in the lounge room reading a magazine. I was sleeping freezing in the dirt under the house getting hypothermia.

During this time with my father they took me to the beach and put me as a little kid and non swimmer into the rip and let me go. But for a young surfer walking along the beach who rescued me I would have drowned. Also during this time my mother witnessed my father coming to my room and raping me but did nothing about it. But then she was also part of me being trafficked and enjoyed counting the money from it. One of my first days at a new school I turned up with reed marks and bruises from my head to foot from her bashing me. They were so bad the kids laughed at me and made fun of me and the Deputy Headmistress took me into her care for the day. My mother would tell me she was jealous of my father because he knew how to hit me without leaving a mark.

Like most kids I just wanted to be loved. It look me a looooong time to realise that both my parents were incapable of that. My mother ensured I was treated as worthless and any meager possessions I had as a child (a jumper from a used clothing charity bag) she would destroy. She would come in my room and pull all the blankets off the bed, empty my drawers in the middle of the room and my wardrobe and then scream at me, now clean your room and then storm out. When my sister stabbed me in the eye my mother waited as long as possible to take me to the doctors because of what other people would think.

As a child she would often call me a bastard and a f'ing bastard which I am finding out may have truth to it as DNA tests are raising interesting issues. She would also claim to be innocent of anything, would deny everything and have no problems lying.

Then there was the;

Attempted murder of my father with crushed glass in his food.

Attempted murder of my father by hitting him over the head with an iron bar while he was stone drunk. Then telling him the next day that he had come home like that so he believed he was in a fight.

Taking my siblings to cults activities to be experimented on.

My brother Ricks death (the firstborn) and her involvement in it. Dad was adamant she was responsible for his death.

Her introducing my younger siblings to drugs while under aged and encouraging those addictions throughout their lives.

Her repeated poisonings of myself throughout my life.

Her involvement with the cults as well as known pedophiles.

And who knows what else that I don't know about.

One day she said to me 'you don't know how guilty I feel for everything I have done to you'. That was it, no apology and no change of behaviour.

Mt Druitt

We left Kogarah in 1969 when I was part way through 2nd class, aged 7 and we moved to Lethbridge Park a new suburb in a new public housing city called Mt Druitt. The roads, schools and shops were still being built but we had a small 4 bedroom fibro house instead of the tiny 2 bedroom terrace in Gray Street in Kogarah. Being a 'family' of 4 kids that helped. At one stage in Mt Druitt there were 100,000 people, average age 11, so there was no shortage of kids or friends. The media had no shame in stigmatising the area and the people in it often splashing derogatory headlines across their front pages about how second rate the people living there were. It weighed heavily on the kids self esteem.

My father did his usual disappearing acts at home whenever he wanted and when he was he was his nasty self or even nastier drunk.

Fiona Barnett says in her book Eyes Wide Open that Daruk Boys Home was a recruitment centre for boy prostitutes used to service ASIOs program as well as a supply of boys as lab rats for MKUltra. As usual the police didn't act until they were forced to. Daruk Boys home was only 15 minutes from Lethbridge Park and other suburbs in Mt Druitt that was filled with kids from disadvantaged and single parent families.

A relative went to Nepean Crippled Children's school, and my mother ending up working there as well. Many of the kids had no arms or legs as a result of thalidomide. At one stage this relative told me of the horrific abuse (sexual and physical) that he and other kids went through there only to clam up later on. In recent years he tried to get his medical records from Hospitals he was operated on in as he was experimented on mercilessly by many doctors but was told his records had been destroyed as had many of the boys from Daruk Boys Home.

My older and younger brother and I went to Australian Air League Mt Druitt Squadron which met weekly at Whalan High. It was for boys aged 8 to 18. They had camps at properties adjoining the Nepean and Hawkesbury River. There was an initiation where everyone had to be pantsed where they were mob chased (at the encouragement of the officers) and then had their pants pulled off by the mob so their genitals and butt were exposed for all to see. Even the officers exposed themselves to the kids most who were under aged as part of this routine. On one camp a blond haired, blue eyed boy had all his clothes forcibly removed and then he was tied to a post naked where they threw a bucket of cold water on him in front of everyone. The officers thought it was fun. He didn't seem to be enjoying it.

Surrounding Institutions

Researching your past

When my memories first started coming back it was hard to place them and I thought where does all this come from. With time and research I was able to place dates, places and people to my history and so validate the memories that were coming through. It took time and I found to do a bit and then take a break and ponder through what I had done and learnt and then do some more and so on worked really well. I kept notes and records including hard copies on paper.

Some of the ways I researched to build a solid body of facts that back up my memories were as follows. Also see the history section as I will be posting research as it comes to hand;

1. Memories; Trust yourself!. Write down your memories, no matter how strange or out there they seem, in word or art. With time and research often they come to make sense. That's been my experience. In the beginning some of my memories were like 'What?!' And now they are 'aaagh,' now that makes sense, I see where that fits in. With time as you do this and when you are ready, more memories will come.

2. Family documents - get a copy of as many of these as possible, especially those with family, friends and associates in them. I found in researching my past it was the company they kept that gave me the connections to the intelligence agencies, the government, corrupt officials, criminals and so on. I was able to take these names, organisations and places and research news stories about them and sure enough followed a trail that validated what I had remembered.

3. Family stories - Write down what you've been told and file this but don't take it as fact unless you are sure and have it backed up by multiple sources. My mother would tell me all sorts of lies about my past to confuse me, gaslight me to make me question myself and throw me off track and also attack me. The more I researched the more her lies became evident. My brother told me a huge pile of his memories of his abuse and then 2 weeks later came and told me he had made it up. I knew he hadn't and all his memories validated mine, so I kept a record of them.

4. Geneology There are extensive resources online as well as Genealogy sections in most libraries. There are also a lot of books to guide you through. One that I have found very helpful is as follows;

Scottish Genealogy (4th edition) by Bruce Durie. Even if you are not Scottish it explains a lot about researching, types of DNA tests etc.

5. DNA tests - I got my family DNA tests for Christmas one year. It uncovered a lot of surprises and brought into question a lot of what I had been told. A significant amount of people find their family may not be the relations they thought or were told they were.

Also keep in mind cult families bloodlines are very important and the bloodline members are above the non bloodline members. There are also significant obvious genealogical traits with ritual abuse survivors of bloodlines including heterochromia, and so on. Incest within cult families is also predominant and can result in genetic deformities such as cleft palates, club feet, Habsburg jaw and so on. Many of us have interesting healing abilities as well as pronounced psychic abilities.

6. Location History; Read about the areas where you grew up, what happened in those areas by whom and at what time. This gives valuable clues. Also research the local institutions you attended including schools, colleges, clubs, hospitals and so on. Do any of them have books about their history? What about politics in the area at that time, who was in power and what decisions were made? Was there cult activity in the area? masonic? did children go missing, murders etc. All this provides pieces to the puzzle.

7. Listen to other survivors stories. This was of huge benefit to me as I saw very distinct patterns between what I and other survivors had gone through across the world. They use the same playbook. Often as Id be listening to other survivors testimonies I'd be thinking "I went through that", or "they did that to me" and so on. Also I noticed there were definite patterns in how we as survivors were treated by authorities and how they refused to act, tried to undermine us and also tried to incarcerate us.

8. Research the cult/intelligence agency/political practices. This for me was incredibly helpful and in the page on resources I have listed numerous books I have read with a precis on each. These were invaluable and I was able to rely on other peoples research to empower my own.

Have a look at the resource page for lists of websites, books, movies and survivor stories

Podcasts - Many podcasters are now talking about and interviewing people about MKUltra as follows

Joe Rogan on MKUltra -

Phillion on MKUltra -

DNA tests. Fingerprinting was first used in forensic science in 1986.

"Ancestry" was founded in 1996 by 2 Americans.

"MyHeritage" was founded in 2003 by Israeli.

With different DNA tests

In looking at cult history there are Countries where cults are stronger such as Italy (incorporated with the Mafia), Germany, Scotland, Ireland and England.

A youtube channel comparing DNA tests

Australian research resources;

Most libraries have local history sections and genealogy sections.

Trove - News articles dating before 1955.

Australian National Archives based in Canberra

Australian National Library based in Canberra.

State Library of NSW based in Sydney

Local Library - Kogarah Like most local libraries has a local history section

Kogarah Local Historical Society - typical of most areas

Masonic Lodges often have books on their histories.

Of note.

At the end of the second world war America, Australia, Canada and the UK took in most of Germany's occult scientists who had done horrific experiments on the Romano Gypsies and the Jews. They wanted their expertise and research. This was called Operation Paperclip and well worth educating yourself over. Some of these scientists were given prominent positions in the United States Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) and one Werner von Braun even headed up National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA). This NAZI culture of evil then pervaded these organisations and allegedly they attracted birds of a feather like the Italian Mafia and became bedfellows. This resulted in many Government Organisations becoming criminal enterprises where the CIA became involved in human trafficking, drug running and the like. There are numerous books on this. There are also allegations that the Illuminati were behind these new organisations and were a front group for them. They were also fascinated with hypnosis and mind control and under the excuse of "National Security" became experts in it at a time that Television was making its introduction to Society. As a little child the experiments these people and others did on me (and others) in Kogarah, Sydney as a way to program the masses through TV I still feel to this day. This program went by the name of MK Ultra.

The CIA brought MKUltra again to Sydney Australia in 1960. It was very involved at the time with the Psychology Department of Sydney University. Australian Sydney University Psychology student Psychologist Peter Sheehan worked with Martin Orne of the CIA and then Sheehan went back with Orne to the USA where he spent almost a decade doing further mind control research. Sheehan later came back to Australia and took on significant positions of influence including unsurprisingly the chief censor for Australian Television. Other students and staff at the Sydney University School of Psychology have been named by a litany of survivors (with corroborated stories/experiences) as their handlers, as occultists and as perpetrators of horrific child abuse.

Sydney University during the period of early to late 60s was connected to St George Public Hospital in Kogarah, Sydney during which time myself and other survivors of ritual abuse were born (including Fiona Barnett). St George Hospital in Kogarah was near Sydney International (Kingsford Smith) Airport which is significant as the CIA is one of the covert owners of airlines and aircraft. The NSW Government also made St George Hospital the hospital responsible for any aircraft emergency at the airport.

Kogarah is also in between the city of Sydney and Lucas Heights Nuclear Reactor (opened in 1958) and Holsworthy Army Base (established in the 1880s), both locations named by different survivors as locations where they experienced cult and ritualistic abuse at the hands of Intelligence Agencies.

What becomes apparent as one starts to research MKUltra in Sydney, Australia (and around the world) is that in the 1950s there was a massive transfer of power from Government and professional institutions to intelligence agencies, especially the CIA and ASIO. In Australia in the late 1950s a new law was brought in to restrict the age of doctors on Hospital Boards so this allowed the powers that be to retire many board members and replace with candidates of their own choosing. This also happened at St George Hospital in Kogarah.

The MKUltra and CIA activities however wern't restricted to Sydney and soon were being extended to other universities including Australian National University in Canberra (ANU) where Aldous Huxley's relative Leonard Huxley became vice Chancellor. Macquarie University, the University of Queensland and the University of Western Australia have all been alleged as institutions of interest with regards the CIA and MKUltra.