Hotel California

One of the things which I have noticed about the Alternative Media stars which I take a pot shot at, is that most of them are of the same generation as I  am.  We came of age in that sixties/seventies Vietnam Peacenik hippy drug era, and we have personal memories of the assassination of JFK, student demonstrations, the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, Jefferson Airplane, UFOs and other strange phenomena.

While in Seattle in 1970,  I moved into a rooming house one morning, and then proceeded to bicycle to my classes, and then on to my late afternoon  job.  Coming home near midnight that night I  saw a group of the other roomies in the kitchen, so I introduced myself.  Two of these were a couple living together in the basement,  named Steve and Joyce.  Steve invited me to come with them the next morning to a Peace March which was being held in San Francisco.  I did not have to work the next day so I said yes, and with $5 in my pocket I piled into a beat up Mustang with three total strangers and headed towards the Golden Gate Bridge.hotel california

The Mustang which was driven by Steve was actually owned by one of his friends,  a CIA agent who was temporarily in South America at the time.  Somewhere in California, the car broke down, traffic whizzing by us at dangerously high speeds.  Fortunately a trucker had pity on us and helped to get the car going again.  We found a motel room which would only cost us $5, if there was only one occupant.  So while Steve got the room, we hid in the bushes, and later one by one, sneaked into the room out of view of the motel clerk. With three girls, and Steve and only one little bed, two of us decided we could curl up in the overstuffed chairs.

We made it to the Peace March, and walked down a main boulevard toward the Golden Gate Bridge with about 200,000 other people.  Feeling faint with hunger we went into a pizza joint, and looked into our pockets for money.  There was not much left.  And we still had to buy gas to get home.  So Steve got bold and picked up abandoned pizza slices which had been left untouched by other patrons  who had left the restaurant.  We were starved.  One patron saw what we had done, and came over and railed on us as disgusting pigs.  We left, but we had had lunch, and felt better for it.  Steve was about 5 years older than me, and he was just starting college on the GI Bill, having recently gotten out of the army and Vietnam.  And to top off his troubles, he was suffering from the fact that he had to oversee three females, who were not much help in this adventure.

Yesterday I had been pondering  having a post title called Hotel California, when one of my readers, who prefers to fly under the radar at the moment, made a comment about, what do you know, Hotel California. What a coincidence. You  probably know this 1970’s song by The Eagles, which was written by Don Felder, Glenn Frey, and Don Henley. It begins, On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair. Warm smell of colitas, rising up through the air.  Up ahead in the distance, I see a shimmering light.  My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim, I had to stop for the night.  There she stood in the doorway; I heard the mission bell, And I was thinking to myself “This could be heaven or this could be Hell”.

When I first started writing the Meroz blog, it was actually under my Starlitgardens word press blog, and I had one reader from Texas who is a defender of the Order of the Leopard.  Well, when I first came to the Hattiesburg area almost four years ago, I made the rounds of the churches.  One of them, which had once been the First Baptist Church of Hattiesburg, had been completely overturned by the clever maneuverings of a couple of people, who by changing the church bylaws gained power and were able to run off all of the older, loyal members of the church.  What had once been the youth minister was now the Senior Pastor, and the church has since evolved into a church for rebels.

The day I went to visit this church which had removed Baptist from their name, to become First Church, (now renamed again Venture Church)  it started out well. One of the parking attendants found out that it was my first visit,  and he gave me a general tour, showing me where the irreverent Coffee vendors were located, and pointing out the illustrious Pastor mentoring a group of young men.  I went into a dark sanctuary and sat down before an enormous stage with the finest rock and roll equipment money can buy.  The front of the Auditorium had huge screens and a little balcony where I expected Rapunzel to let down her hair.  At one point the Pastor came out on that balcony.  When the service started, the amps were set at full ear busting levels, and the children behind me started to cry in fear.  Smoke arose and the rock singers and musicians did their stuff wearing the tightest of jeans. I was in a full blown Satanic Service, and after enduring this for twenty minutes, I walked out through the darkness, past the thugs who were standing as  guards at the door.

I wrote a post on this experience at Starlitgardens.  My one reader, who I will call LeopMeroz, apparently got worried for my safety.  In one hour, this one reader looked at this one post 250 times! It stood out like a tall tower on my Stats page.  Well, later I decided to turn Starlitgardens into more of a home décor, gardening type blog as I was selling a few items over at under the same name.  I erased all of those posts I had been communicating with LeopMeroz on.  He would make comments at times, using a hacker program where he would come into my stats page and leave comments.  He was always using fake websites to create comments on the Spam page also.  When he decided to push the Follow button, he once used a fake website called The Sons of Lucifer, and another time he used a  fake web site featuring a man with a very strange upswept hair-do who lives in Indonesia.

At my new site, Tracking The Leopard Meroz,   I wandered around the Calvinista camp for awhile, and did some other things which I cannot even remember what they were, unless I go back and look.  At one point I thought my blog had said all that was needed to be said, even though I had gained another mysterious reader.  For about 6 months I did no posts.  I was listening at night to Hagmann & Hagmann out of curiosity, while at the same time sewing, painting, or playing Spider Solitaire.  Then on February 10, 2015 everything changed, as I listened to this radio show featuring Doug Hagmann and Steve Quayle.  I was prompted to read their article called Setting the Record Straight: Joint Response Addressing the Character Assassinations Underway .  At that point, I had never even heard of Marinka Peschmann, nor of Michael Erevna of

I read all of the articles on all these blog sites very carefully which were related to the February 10th Joint Response, and on February 20, 2015 added my two cents on Tracking the Leopard Meroz.  The more I looked into the Alternative Media and the Hagmann/Quayle inner circle of friends, the more I was able to discern the source of their commentary in answer to  Hotel California’s dilemma, “This could be heaven or this could be Hell”.  Things keep getting odder and odder.  I have thought of just walking away from Hotel California many a time.  But the Last thing I remember, I was running for the door.  I had to find the passage back to the place I was before.  “Relax” said the night man, “We are programmed to receive.  You can check out any time you like, But you can never leave!”

Looks like I will hanging around Hotel California, a little longer.  I think I can  even hear the notes of it being sung around the campfire at Camp Quayle, with Paul McGuire, the former hippy California guy leading the choir.  On a dark desert highway….Welcome to Hotel California…what a nice surprise…bring your alibis….Mirrors on the ceiling,  the pink champagne on ice, and she said, “we are all just prisoners here, of our own device”.



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