May 28, 2016

How my finger tips were burned.

They weren't blistered. Just a bit sore and hot over the rest of day and the next. A physical reminder to a mind that was being pushed to forget everything.

I think it was Jessie and not Noah we were talking to. We were pissed of with him but not enough to not talk to him. We knew there would be someone showing up that day pretending to be him and the impact of whatever the brobot would say and attempt to do to us would be a lot less if we didnt speak to him at all.

We felt it before we saw it. One of our ships in that had been in fascist hands for years. We half dropped, half chucked the phone to some well else. We built them to very sensitive to our commands and we were on top of it had the lid opening pretty quickly. We felt very ill at looking him in the cockpit of own of our babies. He struggled briefly, screamed "mum" then his neck was broken and we dropped him back in the cock pit, put in his limbs and told her to close.

We jumped back down. She needed a verbal command to revert to previous programming and go back to her true home. We left our hand and finger tips on to long intentionally as she shot off knowing the shinny metallic material against finger tip flesh would leave friction burns.

Blair Blair was not mine. He was Louise's I think one of the girls who they could get in states where they would agree and cooperate with them intentionally distressing the foetus and controlling the pregnancy. Who wouldn't put up a fight if they weren't happy with what they had and decided to abort and try again. They are scared of our DNA producing someone unpredictable, that was the exact opposite of what they wanted.

Someone who would cooperate with the extreme abuse of the baby at birth and onwards. They made sure we saw and knew about lots of what they were doing. The poor babies. We wept for him when we heard they had decided this one was going to be kept alive and trained for adulthood but never again. He was the pet of all the worst abusers at the BBC and British police and intelligence, from the RA networks, the American stuff, the Jersey cunts and wako African shit, all the worst abusers and porn and control techniques from across the world and we couldn't help him. He was on his own. Unsurvivable.. They discussed and convened lots on how to make him what they wanted and specifically what they wanted him to do and we knew they were being listened to because everyone is then discovered how revoltingly rotten the NSA is.

Some really believed they could convince us that we would agree to all that for cash, drugs, clothes, for sex and/or rape with and of celebrities and others.. They really invested in thinking is was possible that I could be become like Louise or Rebecca or Morag or any of them.. To see them chatting and laughing and making material or social demands as they shifted themselves and their heavily pregnant bodies into positions so baby torturers got better access. Knowing the years of fertility that were ahead of us all. It never left any of us. We couldn't let it. We know what kids that come from scenes like that are capable of.

Whoever we had chucked the camera to had let it run and positioned it so Jessie saw everything and was now being shown the surrounding carnage. He shadowed us for a while letting Jessie see what my life was and had been, what it turned us into and what we had to do just to stay alive. How it was endless slaughter not to get a better life for me and Pabs but just to have any life.

Getting us to name them was a thing. A long term thing. They were trying get us to want to save him, to kill ourself trying to save them all. There was only one name for that poor fucker we knew he would be trained to hate us and need to destroy us and everyone who cares about us. Or cares about anything.

 Blair Blair.

Grandad's Girl.

It's Hendrix. We keep Nelson as a middle name. I'm my grandad's.

Very few people are cut out and supported enough to survive the compounds. He's not that kind of fighter. It's been tough. Really tough. The way it was set up so that when we wanted to see and talk to him again we would find him with industry rapists or with other girls that were being trained to pretend they were me.

There was surgery. We were told in the Glen I think, on that patch of track that went behind Logiebank that where we know a few meetings happened. We were so fucking relieved we wept. Think we said that if he was just telling us to make us feel better we would totally forgive him because we needed to here that some much. The guy didnt like that and asked when he had every lied to him. He was certain.

We agreed and said we probably already knew. That they had probably done it in front of us. Probably so because of what happened to us whenever we wondered if they had. He knew us and spoke gently trying to see if we could say more because that kind of dissociation was very dangerous and he wanted to help us not because he needed to info. We said that when we felt strong we tried to think about and would remember an operation room in the compound and Dad on the table being asked questions so they can map shit out and cut or burn the right place. He's trying not to answer but they have other girls there to and they are helping the surgeon.

Afterwards one of the higher up men is asking us what we learned from it. We had no idea what he wanted us to say. All we could think about was how much the other girls had helped. How everything they had been doing and saying and pretending had been about helping them enslave my dad. All we could say was we would never, ever trust Louise again. Then maybe started listing the names of all the other girls involved who we knew we did not have worry about any of us hearing or identifying with or trusting at all ever again regardless of consciousness. He didnt like it and had us dragged off to be raped. All we could see and hear was the surgery.

We had felt wariness towards dad from grandad before that. They had him performing in too much porn. Not realising how much worse things always are to how they look.
"Dad they have you performing sexual acts over and over.. They are getting you to states where you dont need to be aware and in control of your body its become so automatic, its in the muscles and they don't need your brain. Like us with shooting and killing. They are going to increasingly drug you up when they already have you very sleep deprived, they will manipulate your dissociative parts and one day they are going take out the actress and put in me and you wont know the difference and they will have us in a state where we cant wake you up.

That is of course is exactly what happened.

It was after the surgery though. We are pretty sure atm.

Some of us felt so guilty. That maybe if we hadnt fought so hard against the incest they wanted from us we could of protected his brain more. Grandad didnt have to say anything. He just had to look at us and we knew that was crap.

All of us knew without any doubt when it happened.

Brains can rewire. Rape from a loved one cant be undone. We knew our relationship interims of him being my Daddy was dead. I think were about seven because I remember our eighth birthday party where he played for us and there is a strong sense that it was after. We would never be close again because they space I needed from him after would be be impossible to cross years later when I wanted to because we wouldn't know each other and there would be thousands of scumbags, zombies and bots that surround us both would never allow it and christ knows what his brain and body would of become during that time.

That is old world rules. We are still waiting for the new world ones to kick in properly. Christ there is nothing as scary as hope.

On that note. We love you John Oliver.

He's fine. Not any smaller. Spends all weekends glued to a flea ridden sofa... someone should do something about that..

May 27, 2016

You tore us apart with all things you wont know.

That nasty come down or recently traumatised messed up brain chemistry feelings wont shift. Trying not to think of Trevor Noah. And the phone call instructing us not to tell him who Pablo River Stuart was. When he asked on some video call via equipment that wasn't ours we felt the same as we did when the other prick told us what to do only stronger, how the hell were we talking to him if he didnt know who PRS is?

 We told him that, we were freaking and we saw him look of cam to someone for advice on what to say next we said "Cut" and shut it down. The device "vanished". We know the deal when our memories are chopped up and the blank patches are very blank - we are being kept unconscious lots, and the DID seriously worked along side the women pretending to be us. Very poorly.

Was the same when someone said our grandad was dead. Like we were immediately going to try and contact him to find out if it was true?? Still though it was years before that set of us could see him and know he definitely wasn't, a year ago.

Elaine is the door way of her disgusting living room holding cut up lemons and looking very pleased with herself. There's lots of laughter. Think it's me, Sash and one of my teenage daughters on the floor but getting incidents mixed up is really easy. We thought a lot about how much scarier all this would be if we didn't know where it all came from. If we hadnt been in caged in the same spaces where everything they were doing now had been done to them, hadnt known they had been doing these exact same things since they were kids just as instructed, if we hadnt overheard or been forced to assist in surgeries where they cooperated fully with the surgeons it would be a lot less survivable. Some of us thought that we wouldnt survive if we weren't being gang raped and tortured next to people we loved but never get to see. The rest of us knew thats how they keep hard core porn subjects alive.

The look on Jacqui's face when we told her we were giving info about the compounds and the programming to other victims to undermine the power of it all. Priceless.

Beyonce in Dundee..

starring in torture tapes with assorted victims filmed on location with Fintry's best loved sex offender Elaine Smith!!

Cant remember exactly what had been going on or how long it had been going on but we were really ill and in agony, couldn't think. As well as Pabs location they were trying to get info and control events on now, May 2016. From us. Back then. Sitting on the floor near the door to Pabs room though we were coming round enough to know where we were and to remember we were sitting where Francis's body was, with Beyonce standing where Ann, or was it Sam? was. That helped.

Once folk got us to a better place internally after that one of the first things was Pablo had to be out the country and stay out the country and it was probably going to be necessary a times to keep him moving and we must not under any circumstances be told where he is.

Can't remember how much Beyonce and company paid for a search and destroy operation on six year old Pablo River Stuart. Something stupid. Particularly as it failed.

"Yeah there's only one person on Earth that I know of that could help finding someone like that."
"His Ma.."

Back on the floor in the dark. We are using her name as much as and trying make out like we are stronger and more awake than we are so they pull her out of there.

"so basicly I get to parent Pablo or he gets to live" She agrees. "Well I wouldnt be a very good parent if I let you slaughter him would I" She didnt like. Think we started talking about the threats about the kid over here.
JZ opens the door to the closey and tells her its time to go. He's never far when's she's working and a whole crew. They dont do any sneaking around or any kind of work on their own. Never have.

Wonder how many times we watched. Usually from the floor, injured, tied, drugged, pregnant, whatever. Usually to the man when we were really little. Then JZ but others to of course. As they left they made more promises to have Pabs killed. We weren't on our own for long before people came to us and helped us feel less scared for Pabs.

So many fucking years of it.

"Why don't you just kill her?"
"No we can't"
"You said we could do whatever we wanted?!"
"Yeah but only if they let us."

I am the mountains, I am the sea.. you can't take that away from me.

May 26, 2016

"So what was it? A ship or a plane?"


Got really sore, weepy, irritable, little for most of rest of day. Was very proud of our self for sticking on the oven and putting together chips and scrambled egg with beans and salsa for us. Just too fucking sore. Dont particularly want to write about the kinds of causes we are sharing within ourself. We dont mind saying that in the moments before Rebecca dropped permanently we were standing very close to her. We told those there that it was Rebecca but to say it was Louise. Remember seeing someone tell a uniform it was Rebecca but he was outnumber and talking to someone that was friendly enough to either already know or not give a fuck. Then we saw by the awkward questions about how he knew that, what he was doing there and where I was before standing close to Rebecca before she dropped.

He was floundering and said I saw us being raped on the other side of the street, we said we didnt we had been raped that afternoon but we had been hurt and it had been attempted. When he described the rape scene we said that wasnt us it was Rebecca and she lived and worked with and for those guys for years and we heard her agree to it before hand.

 It started out during times when we were so dissociated and drugged we didnt know what was happening to us from one moment to the next and they would tape other girls and say it was us. Later on they were all about keeping us in a state where we remembered good times with the other girls when we were little and being victims together and none of the bad so the girls would be involved in stuff like in front of us just to trigger and fuck with us. "It's just sex work Julia."

She called us Julia as well. We had stopped them calling us Louise. But there was no budging on "Julia". As well as lots of the stuff they wanted it to trigger calling us that also brought back her associates in me and Pab's flat and how they went through various names to try and stop us from shooting them. Sam started she was closet in the doorway of the living room a couple of feat away every bit desperatly needed her and the memories she brought with her to not be there, our flesh was in agony, confused, terrorised, nauseous and angry at her smell and what we could see of her features by the patches of street light coming from outside.

She called us "Louise and maybe started saying something in her evillest voice when our training kicked in and we sorted out our stance and she wasnt saying anything. At least one of the other called us that to even after Sam was down I think. Ann was next she was near where the dirty washing mountain usually was. She was trying various names, as we stepped out the bedroom into the hall, maybe "Mia" and some ring handles and Julia..nothing that didnt just make it all the more easier. We saw where Francis was at Pabs bedroom door when the hall was briefly lit again twice.  Francis was left alive and she called us "Julia" and then when it was obvious that wasn't going to work she shouted "Rose" when the other two were both dead. After calling us Julia. They would rather die than call us by our own fucking name.

Not that it would of stopped us because we knew what they were there for and we knew the kind of kit they were carrying and how it was going to be used on me and Pablo, just that they stuck to their orders right to the end like that. Francis being the only one who could bring herself to disobey orders or was allowed to use it but only after the other two were down and we were aiming for her.

Not real people.

There was to much going on when we were told the autopsy results for it to register properly but would love to hear it confirmed again that bits of their brains had been scarred or removed during childhood and if anything else had been added. We remember having to sit down, not so much at Sam because we remembered she had be done in the compound but particularly at what we were hearing about Francis. Horrific.

It was the way the uniform stood in a way that we could see the look in his eyes when he started asking how I could of killed her after walking up behind her when no saw us touch her and there was no weapon and no sign of any injuries. Happy little bubbled up for the first time in ages as we watched him and we felt really safe and hopeful for a little bit sitting on the curb before we had to go off and go battle.

If I got them to stop being involved in plots to rape, murder and keep us enslaved then they would kill them. If they continued we would end up killing them in self defence.

"Just go. Leave us alone. I'll forget about you. You forget about us. There's plenty ways to make money without torturing us and little kids."

"They wont let us."

Louise died the same day as her sister in August 14. We believe. At time of press.. She thought she could go off and live happily ever after on our work and leave us in the hell she was used to create and then helped keep us in it. We said goodbye and "I love you" to her fabulous little then she got in one of our shinnies and was pretty much atomised when she tried to pass through one of my gates with her in it.

She was chipped and we were glad when we got a call from an less familiar American accent in unfamiliar building saying her signal died and she almost certainly had to. We said what we knew, not sure if we were about to be threatened with the might of American and Allies military and intelligence strength but were disappointed when he apologised. We asked if he was saying sorry for her death or the state she was in, he said the state she was and possibly for the loss of the hardware which we had noted certain parts were smarting over..

We heading back up the stairs when he said something else, something we all liked a lot and felt very relived for the future.. He was annoyed that we wouldnt be able to just remember and keep what he had said in mind for the next few years but we explained that was part of what we were fighting. Think thats when it hit us when we had worked with him before and how much we had needed to tell him so much more but had been prevented.

He had been totally manipulated into a place of basically thinking decent folk were the evil ones but once we told him to listen to some of the folk that were there we knew we could start getting him up to date but that was going to take a heartbreakingly long time.

Sometimes we do feel like we are going to run out of emotions because we have used up out life allowance of them..

Think we may of been cajoled or it was at least suggested by someone that we phone Louise's head pimp/handler in a gangster tool type manner and demand he pay us for the price of the ship as a way of declaring her death..

It was very cathartic and utterly erased any remaining "but they are my friends its not their fault" guilt and helplessness and terror and so many other programmed emotional states designed to keep us their victim and stop us from exposing them to anyone who would be a real problem. Very successful in all the ways for a long time but not so much any more or writing most of what we have written and been remembering sadly but mostly calmingly over the past few weeks.

May 25, 2016

Can't we just get algorithms to do like all of it..

 How much of all this getting the Man to try persuade/force us depending on the day and time of day to work within him against Mother is something else trying to get us to work with Mother against him? Well it was going to work a bit because if we didnt we were almost certainly going to die. She's not that  brain dead dead or absent enough yet to dont be enraged by men not recognising her potential and trying to undermine her. The more power they take from her and give to him they are making it more obvious that they have been playing her the whole time and as much as she pulls that whole "It's what people do" thing they are they closest she has ever had to her own people and she does go in for personal vengeance from time to time.

It reeks of pure evil lost it a long time ago Zionism. Maybe a little to much..
.. Bet its the Brits. It always the fucking Brits. Doesnt matter what colour they are or what language they are speaking we recognise those "styles of politics" those torture, oppression and dissociation control techniques.

God it would be good if we could write a computer to do that stuff.


"You've already written it!?!"

"Eh no. We are here to help you write it."

"Oh. Ok. Cool. Whose idea was the big pink frilly dress and the wand?"

"I'm not sure Sir they said it might you smile."

"They were right."

Oh yeah.

After Mother, after the women, after Eazy.

He asked a long time who we were having consensual sex with. Not that it effected the UK Satanic bet stuff. We refused to tell him. He said he would he find out. We agreed and said it would be the last thing he did. We knew it was on a level that was unlikely to be all real physically but is packed with all other kinds of shattered truths.

Goodness it was good to back there for the last fucking time. He was out of it. Never knew we were standing behind him. Waiting for the triggered internal mind transmission to end. He was quite surprised when we leaned over and spoke.

"It was Eazy." and then waited for him to catch up.

When we catch ourselves literally salivating over the thought of slitting a throat we leave the knives at home and ask for other peoples help to make sure that happens. We had been very relieved not to find a blade in our pocket. It was one of those jobs and because of it being the Man it wasnt like we could just pull and leave there was some other stuff to do. Stuff that we had been running over in our head for a long time with people who had been very willing to help for a long time.

Back out the car. Quiet, smiling soldiers. All of us seeing the stunning colours and patterns of a new glasses prescription, smells and tastes like your pregnant and just quite smoking, bodies like you've been given diazepam for the very first time. Minds all comfortably overlapping. Considerably freerer.

Saw Jacqui shift when spoke how we dont speak about could possibly be described as "psychic" with therapists we haven't trained or vetted because they don't have the experience and it would be harmful to us and not helpful to the therapist. We said there was too many abusers involved in mental health study and too many abusers telling survivors of institutes and rings like what we could and couldnt say. She asked if there was someone telling us what we could and couldnt say.

"Of course. We already told you. We are in Scotland. With no money and no friends. Every aspect of our life is controlled, long in advance if they can manage it."

We thought for a moment she saw how much we were "there" how much we knew she was heavily involved and not just the "EPs" she was terrifying and telling them not to tell the rest of us.

"That stuff won't work Jacqui." We said on the home, in our bedroom, in Elaine's, in Graham's, in sessions. "If that shit worked I'd be dead by now. It's hardly going to start working now I'm almost thirty is it?" Then we would lie and say "and Jacqui. We always know our name." and work our levels so we could say it without the parts that were too scared to hear it. It happened so often of course that the parts stopped being too scared to hear what the stronger parts were saying our name was.

Sometime we would mix it up and "Rose Hendrix" instead of "Rose Nelson." or if really brave or on the right drugs, start throwing in other names and then say "Nah. Just kidding.."

We got as many of the other people who they were doing the same shit to say the exact same or similar stuff. Knowing the order would come down eventually. She cant know her own name. Stop what your doing if you cant stop her saying it.

Rose Nelson Hendrix. Rose Nelson Hendrix. Rose Nelson Hendrix

Thank you all.

Ridiculous existence.

Christ Trevor wept when he thought we had thought we had consensual sex with someone who was trafficking us.. We climbed into bed next to him and spelt it out. The dude needs programming to function yeah? and it must of been a really good programmer for us to feel than comfortable or me that manipulated.. like a really good programmer he spent a lot of time with as a child.. locked up in cages maybe?

He stopped crying but still was there yet he's so fucking dense.

"A really good programmer.. that could help him have sex with us.." Still. But there was signs of preclicking. "A. Really. Good. Programmer. That spent a lot of time with him when he was younger." Eventually. A brief look of horror and disgust passed over the plain of his mug before we both buried ourself in duvet for embarrassed giggling. When we started to get it together I deliberately sabotaged both our efforts by adding that it was "really just sophisticated masturbation.".. Pansy.

A mum had showed us it when really young not to use then but for when we were older they said we would need it and they were right. You can find your most raped, know nothing else parts and take them to "no bastard will ever be able to do that to me again" places by yourself in our time in own way.

We were astounded at now well it worked. Years of their hard work. Figuring out how we ticked, which always means us getting more and more convincing at being someone else, all that years and years of strenuous rape and creative intelligent oppression and manipulation, all their hours and hours of meetings and "info gathering", constantly pushing themselves to do worse and worse things. Ruined overnight.

We did have to push ourself to go speak to the dude how can provided the surveillance that us and others were not comfortable with turning off or not bothering with for the night. We stood and stared at the mobile unit for a while. Working ourself to go in there. Avoiding the issue with thoughts about who had encouraged us to always think of such vans and cabins as "OB vans" as in BBC outside broadcast from ops in Britain because it happened everywhere always and to all of us and what the hell else did he do?

Come on. How long could we just stand there. Feeling like a teenager who had to walk back into family home to kitchen table of anxious parents and possible police all wondering where they hell I was all last night and why the hell I didnt have the consideration to at least phone and say I was ok..

The teenage bit might of been right (no idea. late teens not impossible) but as for the rest, thats not what was going on here. Then we started feeling horrified at the idea that those men might not know us that well and they might of watched us having lots of sex without knowing how phenomenally violent and strong we could be.. And they would know we were standing there in the street by ourself, pulling horrified facial expressions. Like an idiot. Being embarrassed.. for fucks sake.

Of all the stuff we had not walked away from and now are feat were frozen? That was it. Deep breath. Shake it off. I'm a soldier. There faces were purple from laughing, they were scrunched over consoles failing to hold themselves together, with all kinds tears on their cheeks and eyes. Not that anyone was managing much in the way of eye contact or sentences.  We managed though. We had to say this. There had to no copies of that going anyway, getting stolen or lost or accidentally sold. It had to be deleted. 100% of all of it. And we would be checking. They weren't disagreeing. Once we got through that we could start laughing with them and take the hugs and the back slaps.

There was efforts to try and replicate the night and setting from what was in Eazy's head and we were shown some, either to convince a part that wouldn't believe it was possible that it did happen or to give us laugh through showing us a glimpse of how far they were from knowing even the most basic shit about us.

Apparently sex with black men didnt count towards the satanic bet the Man said when they knew that about it and we probably had them convinced we were letting black dude that smiled at us right into pants. We were pretty sure it was a UK thing not a colour thing but we didnt say. We started berating him for being a black man who worked for white power and instead of laughing at us, saying he didnt care it made him rich or getting violent he looked pissed off and got quiet. This is new, we thought and guessed it was probably a different dude.

Then we remembered that small amount of work we did when the double agents had done a lot of work on Mother and we got her to work us before she went in for more surgery when we actually got a proper look at her mind a glimpsed its potential and met her none abusers parts. Seething.

Thankfully the dude was still to brooding to have spotted that our whole stance had just dramatically changed. We pushed it into looking like we were feeling for him and waste of it all and looked it he was too inward looking to spot it was faked. Even when we started crying he just stormed out calling us some names we had heard a million times before and saying he couldn't work us..

Grandad had him. He was fucked.

May 24, 2016

Cake, cake, cake!

"I don't believe you will ever have a timeline and certainly don't think is something any of your parts are anywhere near even partially."

Our eyes went saucer like, eye brows all the place. So she added, while putting her head to side and trying to seem genuine. "I can only go what I've seen of course."

(are you SURE she isnt on our side? (Yes we are))

We played split. The cold hard confident then head down, glazed eyes and nodding in agreement.

How could she buy this? She obviously saw the look on us when she looked like she had pushed us back we werent trying hard. From what we had seen in sessions and out she and her people had no clue about anything. How could that be?

Then it another level. Most of this was supposed to be repeats, revisions, triggerings of shit with Mother and others. Sessions that often didnt go how she thought it went when it was ongoing and her memory and parts where arranged and controlled afterwards so she didnt even remember what had happened. During meetings with the bosses and associates lots of what she was telling them was utter fiction. Tapes were being faked, brought in, taken out or if we had to deleted or physically destroyed before anyone saw them.

The double agent manipulating Mother after sessions with us and showing us how to do was so worried when he couldnt do it any more because we didnt seem worried, we were glad excited even. Think we saw and heard him weeping because he thought they had lost us and we wanted to tell him so badly it was because we were ready but knew we couldnt so we went off and went to find whatever cage Eazy was in to go and tell him in one of our shared languages that we changed so much no one else could understand a word of.

God it was such a relief when so him a while later and he had seen the work we were doing and was so far from worried and eyes so dark and shiny that we warned him against thinking we could be that though and that amazing all the time then we remembered the way he cried and agreed he and us to could have this moment.

We were pulling lots of the same stuff and working with people to limit the damage done by the man to but it was harder. Every time we came back more of the girls had turned or were saying that had to pretend they had turned against us and were working with him and we would see one day it would be worth. Which of course was obvious crap. He did get them all or get them to get them all.

Enemies on the other sides of the bars are bad but the ones they put in the cages with you and are in the same physical state can be so much more dangerous. We had to stop trying to figure out if there was any warmth left in any of them for us. They were obviously keeping Rebecca a bit alive, a bit aware, having her shown love and healing now and again to give her false hope enough to bring her back to torture us and try and reel us in..

We remember feeling very determined that none of them would have any hand in Mother's death or the final destruction of this hell hole. Survival came down to morale and therefore it was an imperative that none of these bitches had essential role in any stage whatsoever. Except maybe Rebecca depending on what state she would be at the time.

We may of helped set Morag up for credit for some of it. Thats what they did. So we sat in comfort with some lovely feds, trying out some new military grades and drinking some kind of sweet snaptz stuff which grew on us immensely as we watched Morag being congratulated for a mission she knew absolutely nothing about and was very bad for her interests..

The shit people were saying was hysterical. There was definitely quite a few there who were very much in on it. After she left we were reluctantly shooed out into the function knowing at worst we could eat food and cake and turn off our ears when some tool started prattling BS but I dont think we had to turn our ears off at all. Not for those reasons anyway. The percentages in the room of decent battling scarred humans versus evil robot horror stories was very different than to what they had been and reminded us of some of the earliest functions we were at when very little. Really happy.