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No one asks for oil. Rather, they are told.
Canada and New Brunswick Shrouded in Violent Industrial Secrecy, Espionage and Torment of a Whistleblower: Whistleblower Jeffery Thomas Withers profitably tortured by Invega and other methods under Blaine Higgs’ nazi administration- and is still slated to be legally drugged with mandatory antiperformative substances at least every twenty eight days- and through unto an unknown period of the same: a now-Liberal Government has inherited this reprisal regime of bodily assault, spiritual assault, and mental abuse against a citizen of concerned thought..
This article was posted in Autumn of 2024 at 97% verbatim with very muted response and no replies from The CBC, The Guardian, nor from any elected politician. Dr. Samir Taleb later wrote a prescription for 12 doses of Invega on New Brunswick’s provincial Election Day in 2024. Jeffery Withers has been returned to involuntary psychiatric “care” at the Saint John Regional Hospital and is subject to accepting injections from a woman he labelled the antichrist, and a managerial psychiatrist he denoted “the beast”. Jeff is not permitted of discharge from the secure 4DN facility to home without accepting these antagonists and spiritually-bound purveyors of spriritual and physical death. -July 8th, 2025
Jeffery Withers Saint John, New Brunswick E2M2R6 Canada
Respectfully, to Dear Friends and to Susan Delacourt,
And to any friend at the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation,
And to The Right And Honourable Prime Minister Justin Trudeau and to The Honourable Susan Holt
And to The Honourable Elizabeth May and The Honourable David Coon,
To The Nordic Council,
And to those who haven’t spied, nor voted for men of war,
I — Jeffery Withers — as I type, I remember that In 2009, Dr. Byron Hyde removed his finger from my rectum. He tossed a box of tissues, and stated, “They left some.” I don’t want him speaking for me.
It seemed there was other solace in Ottawa, for me, but perhaps I had run to the wrong place. I had relatives Ron and Brenda Robertson to become acquainted with. It was fully unknown to me then how terrifying the next fifteen years would be. The path was set, however, and I felt that an escape from other kinds of pain in Saint John had finally passed.
The hiring of John Gomery was said to be a noteworthy success for Ron, and his subsequent recruitment operations with evolving business names would become “the only game in town”- Ottawa’s go-to for the executive pool.
Some time had passed before I noticed the JD Irving plaque in Ron’s office- left of his shoulder and high upon the wall- it was a commemoration of his service to Jim Irving with Ron as CEO of Kent Homes- a time during which roofs were blowing off their modular homes. That past was removed from from the Rockliffe life that Ron and Brenda were now living.
I signed up at fourteen dollars per hour with Ron in the summer of 2010; an amount I had chosen; two dollars more per hour than I felt comfortable asking for. The next two years with Ron would be a time of discomfort, big asks, and admittedly, use of cannabis that seemed to help me unlearn some of the troubles of an excessively civil upbringing. Addiction was strong within just a few weeks, but I was set on battering through what I felt was public service- careful vetting that had unravelled into generating what I thought might be amateurish paper trails perhaps, for Ron, and ultimately to the Harper government- which I was not in lockstep with. I focused on the tasks that Ron and other members of the Odgers Berndtson team would ask of me.
On one occasion, I proposed enlisting the services of my previous employer, Claire Driscoll And Associates, who had telephone strength, in seeking a more fulsome search for candidates. This was a no; I was warned of an always-on risk of embarrassing Ron in front of the Privy Council.
Canada Post was first. A new CEO was being sought. An Auditor General for Canada who would replace Sheila Fraser came soon after. I did assist with a Chief of Defence Staff search, but by then I felt unconfident in my vetting efforts; I could only do so much with an Internet search to discover potential issues that might arise in a candidate (It seemed to me the final candidate had already been selected when I was asked to help vet the “final three”).
I recused myself from the RCMP Commissioner search of the time- I was not fond of police in general and I left this to Ron.
Ron had personal ambitions to attain further stardom and financial gain (Brenda would later indicate to me that Ron had a financial goal.). I was troubled by then, considering, what more success could an only-game-in-town headhunter go after?
I had sooner figured Ron would retire upon such a financial goal, perhaps with it easily being met, and I had hoped that with his departure, more open recruitment practices, though fully how I don’t know, would ensue.
Ron’s personal project: Are people with prior Ottawa connections more likely to remain in their roles [there] longer than those without? Would executives with family in Ottawa, or prior education there, employment, or residence, break the inconvenient and expensive less-than-three-year-tenure mark?
Long tenure might be attractive to a government seeking to implement its agenda in terms that are beyond the sitting government. What constitutes, as supposed, humane and fully democratic; ecologically sound compatibility with an implementation of such staffing and its operations? It isn’t trivial to also be asking, “How does the human resources and executive interface align with The Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms?”
A personal but global concern: How would looming pandemics even more severe than COVID and SARS, such as Ebola, be experienced in Canada notwithstanding their full eradication and survival in the present day? These outcomes are fully steered via the caliber of headhunted “talent” and its possible private interests.
These are my own thoughts.
I proceeded with tallying the Ottawa-connected hiring statistics, based on surveys Ron had issued to his hires- surveys about their own Ottawa history.
No significant correlation was found to exist between a person having a prior connection to Ottawa and the length of their tenure. It is also imperative to ask if this level of Ottawa-only negative feedback loop in hiring is what the populace should ethically tolerate. I cannot fathom the consequences of excluding people outside of Ron’s selections- Ottawa ones- It was convenient that he lived there, and he felt he knew that talent pool better than anyone else. Would the Privy Council fall for this kind of trap?
Ron certainly could have read the non-correlation math himself. I was pressed to do so for him, however. My fourteen-dollar-per-hour “research” that might assist in the destruction of mostly public administration was asked to be done. But a pair of documents had arisen before my departure, one of which was a CV that embodied:
James Nichol Schultz – Canadian Association of Petroleum Producers, 2003 – present
A senior regulatory strategist … Proactively manages multi-issue public policy change. Actively advancing deregulation …
I had been locked out of the FileFinder application the morning after screenshots were taken.
Twelve years of horror had begun. Others had already been in progress.
Beyond the grievous and significant, self-described criminal behaviour as detailed in the CV, and the significant injury sustained globally through it, my reactions are damaged after the passing of several years of a lack of its existence in safe, and what I believe to be legally sane, open discussion. It’s unfortunate that my secondary reactions are bound to personal suppression in supposed peacetime, as I remember my pocketmoney and the chokeholds and the monitors, both technical and incarnate. I am still aggrieved of what I found and it how became manifest in Canada.
Furthermore, what are Ron’s enduring connections to the Irving family and its companies? I understood that he had likely hired “high-level” staff for Canada’s espionage racket. This would trouble me for years, with the possibility of dirty industry seeking the security apparatus of the state.
A later disturbance to me was a Canadian Broadcasting Corporation that may still not possess the open technologies and whistleblower protection protocols that might be rationally secure- secure forthwith to save lives. I have not the tools to determine, yet CSEC has blood on its hands through the honeypot that a journalism organization may inadvertently become, should it downgrade the security protocols of such a professedly democracy-supporting organization.
I have in fact spoken to journalists at the CBC before beginning a dimmer view of the possibilities of disclosure to public discourse. Keeping in mind the possibilities that might come from the top of said organization, I sought solace in confiding with CBC journalists, but Robertson was likely highly involved in hiring the head of the CBC. Nor am I safely able to verify all facts most similar to these, still today, for obvious surveillance and safety reasons before disclosure.
It was even harder to be told to pick up the Irving-owned Telegraph Journal to occupy my time while waiting to speak with one journalist in the CBC’s Saint John office. That’s trauma for thinking types when the subject in confidence is often the unethical activities of the family who have directed the Telegraph Journal itself.
Would Ron’s hires risk dismissal if not acquiescing to his private goals? Public procurement is another concern, hopefully then and now not only of mine. I took this concern to Dominic Cardy, who was then, as I understand, leader of the New Brunswick New Democratic Party. Waiting was among the roughest overnight experiences I can still recall having endured at the time, coping with adrenal burnout in a frozen car in Fredericton, which needed alternation between parking lots for my fear of police. Morning would dawn, and a black Mercedes dropped Cardy off at his office.
Cardy took notes of my concern about Irving warship procurements. He left just a few minutes later for a photo-op at the local landfill where the other party leaders were present. “This job gets more interesting every day,” he remarked. I left and furthered attempts to open what I felt was already long-overdue discourse.
On Edward Snowden, whose first major disclosure in 2013 occurred as I was about then gaining concern with whom I could safely call on the telephone without either party ending up dead:
The physical madness of making contact: I can simply go offline, but if anyone or everyone I speak with is under surveillance, there is risk to life. I became labelled schizophrenic (and bought into that game) because I followed warnings about mass surveillance- and lawful intercept, something which I am just as troubled by, for example, in a case such as high corruption, where a whistleblower is legally surveilled if not wholly issued a fatwah by his own government.
Well-read peers and family had sooner committed me to a place of death than accept this arguably simple truth.
Whistleblowing can become paranoia incarnate, particularly when one is under coercive force and untoward stealth and deception by powerful and opaque agencies.
Your backyard? Or Lepreau? The Point Lepreau nuclear plant sits though vulnerable to seismic activity nearby and eventually within. A former employee tells me of minor pools of radioactive water on the floor. Naps on the reactor.
Ron joined the NB Power recruitment file years following his anticipated retirement (A suspected description of personal nuclear terror is detailed later in this letter- one that left me feeling the horror of such a thing even in the hands of the most proficient of men (I pray that all non-men on Earth already know better)).
Enter Blaine Higgs, former CFO of Irving Oil, who became Premier of New Brunswick as I lay nearing dead in a secure “psychiatric facility”. More on this, also later.
The Irving Oil refinery in Saint John and its Canaport terminal on the Fundy Bay extend a direct pipeline of the dirtiest petroleum scum to land at the provincially-owned Coleson Cove power generating station. The Irving Oil refinery in urban Saint John, frequent proprietor of a brown stain across the Kennebecasis sky, is the largest in Canada, while Coleson Cove was recently listed as the largest source of pollution in Atlantic Canada. Birds are said to fall from the sky as they fly over the stacks at Coleson Cove.
NB Power continues to aggrieve the newly-commissioned, Neqotkuk Maliseet First Nation-led Burchill Wind Farm (nearby), with claims of burden on NB Power’s grid. I grieve the barotrauma of birds who pass over the new turbines, but specifically the sight of the turbines doesn’t scare me- rather, coal and gas-powered Christmas lights do.
I attempted suicide in 2018. Horizon Health seemed fully prepared- I was forcefully transported to the hospital I didn’t want to go to. A woman in the emergency entrance area preyed on my mother: “Who believes in prayer!?” My mother does, as do I, and the unsolicited woman soon later spoke at me in a fashion only a sociopathic agent of North American brand might attempt to once my Mom and I were within reach.
With “Psychomotor retardation,” and the immediate label of a poor sense of history, [Dr. Moorti] had a detailed mental illness application ready. I was committed to 4DN at the Saint John Regional Hospital that morning. My near-lethal wounds were only in my hands now. I fought for wound care while workers focused on keeping me locked in the building for weeks. In Saint John, persons in distress still fight for a “stay” there. On paper and in words, I am oppressively forbidden to ever officially or permanently leave “supervised community care”.
Dr. Alan Fostey, who had previously, for $100, issued me a paper document authorizing cannabis purchases at the HBB Medical dispensary he had been working through, was now in charge of my detention at the Regional Hospital. I was labelled “schizoaffective” and I failed “mental illness hearings”. I do not recall being asked if I experienced hallucinations or such criteria pertinent to what is “commonly” considered psychiatric admission, but the penalty at 4DN was grave. Staff were generally and chillingly elevated in mood, and my feelings on the morning of my February 3rd suicide attempt were scant compared to what 4DN itself would inflict.
It was understood that I was to be compliant: A “voluntary stay as long as [I was] cooperative,” claimed Fostey. I was in full captivity, although six years of personal terror had already happened. Fostey was retweeting The Rebel and meanwhile promoting an app that vulnerable people were encouraged to install on their smartphones.
I gained forty pounds within just a few short weeks. Dr. Fostey acknowledged the effect of mandatory Olanzapine as being responsible for metabolic syndrome.
I had a verbally and equivalently declared attempt of political and industrial re-education on my life before authorization of leave by [Dr. Satya], who insisted I relinquish my paranoia about government malfeasance. His mere admission of this is not my sole issue of contention; rather the whole of this essay is. —-One would expect Xinjiang.
At home, my parents were instructed to administer Olanzapine “for agitation”. I had never been more silent by then, and the full-family brainwash was replete. There is still a chasm between us.. I had left home in the summer of 2018 with attempts to again connect with certain persons or anyone who could truly assist in a way that was agreed upon as ethically sound. But people locally worshipped Horizon Health- and Irving- entities who are not afraid to lay traps for paranoid business and political gain. The opening accostments of that summer, while on fearful must-keep-moving-along walks, were mostly from people sporting Irving regalia on their clothes. Irving Oil was doing more than just erecting a new office building in the city where I had nearly died from walking in fear.
I am still blamed for refusing food in former years. My silent, dampened hunger strike was met with that dopamine blocker, Olanzapine. The induction of even more extreme hunger by said chemical left me in ridicule by staff and other misery. I succumbed to the often sole option of industrially-processed bread and peanut butter when I somewhat voluntarily chose to overeat and felt the need to do so. Ice cream was a rare joke between mealtimes.
I’ve been permitted to be detained in ether English or French, which is such flying grace if not for the gaslighting that it was.
4DN at the Saint John Regional Hospital and Chalmers Hospital in Fredericton, areas of which in their entirety are unknown to me, include one in Fredericton which was devoid of light. Places responsible for acts of torture, with other Horizon facilities engaging in similar warfare. Some areas of Horizon facilities need no repurposing but to hold someone legally or illegally captive- and possibly subject to legal bodily and spiritual assault by various means. I will lay waste to my credibility if it means liberation for whomever might be lest wrongfully captive there or any person abused by such facilities as a matter of expedience or other corrupt gain. “Mental illness” hearings in secret replace what might otherwise be publicly-viewed court sessions that might also collaterally expose the laundry of billionaires and other stars in the political safety net.
I was picked up off the street during the New Brunswick election bid of 2018- the summer of my homelessness. Ambulance or police car were the options given to me, as I was separated from my compact flash cards of scant poetry. I was stuffed into a non-typical police car and taken to the Regional Hospital. Strapped to a board, a smiling woman drove a needle through my pants and into my left thigh. My hands went from white to black in a burden of pain and loss of oxygen to them- anoxia . A cop mocked me with a hand gesture until I lost consciousness.
So Higgs won.
…
Dr. Pamela Forsythe calls her drug book her bible. The woman quickly aimed a phone call at my Mom to book an “appointment” for me, dubiously mandatory; predatory at a time when one sentencing, so to speak, had just ended. Forsythe knows possibly no limits when it comes to ethics, and she engaged in aggravated use of psychiatric fraud. She boasted of the “large dogs” at her Kennebecasis Park home when I spoke defensively. How Pamela was chosen as head of the Canadian Psychiatry Association is unknown to me- I dread the idea of any recruitment firm or relation to McGill University having a corrupt role in this kind of art- It’s understood to be unsafe for me to look up such things on a computer or phone. Previous attempts to do so have resulted in phone calls from the “FACT” team. “Your needle is due.” Or a mandatory appointment with Dr. Samir Taleb becomes suddenly required.
Paying for parking to an Irving company at a “Mental Health” facility in an Irving Building, to be prevented from blowing the whistle on Irving corruption: a special horror of New Brunswick.
Forsythe tried to get me to be comfortable with “schizophrenia”. I knew as a whistleblower the stigma being offered. A game of time was being played.
Years of scareware on my iPhone and other devices, and a home bedroom thermostat whose backlight, presumably in retribution, would illuminate upon my simply getting out of bed must be extreme fun for someone, someone hidden. I’ve been more recently told by the provincially-employed “patient advocate” to go for another mental illness hearing as the solution, presumably to this, but specifically to my condemnation by that very panel every 365 days. The hearing that, despite Taleb’s repeated perjury expressed into it, licenses continued mandatory injections and subjugation to interrogations is no friend.
My apparent bigger and serious transgression in time past was my assertion that I had intentionally been given HIV by Horizon Health. In trauma and distress, I reckoned it was not beyond them to backstab the whistleblower that I was and still am. Dr. Claude Botha said he could solve this issue. So I felt relief: “Tell me I’m wrong, Claude. I’d like to go home.” And I could, I thought. He such then immediately committed me to another detention.
Forsythe seemed overjoyed to me in her report.
By the third detention, I was in protracted distress of an even greater nature. How could I be well in a psychiatric prison, not to mention while being involuntarily controlled and admonished by paid employees twenty four hours per day?– Ones who had a burgeoning affiliation with MAID. My ability to blow on matters successfully past to many had been presented to be destroyed.
Days of unabated static noise would play on the radio of an adjacent person. It would be on continuously and only made silent upon my parents imminently arriving, by a nurse who would seem to know. I had longed for my parents’ and sister’s visits despite the wreckage being perpetrated, not only by the people who would only temporarily mute the noise for mostly the duration of our reunion. My parents were not permitted to understand these acts of depravity.
Mostly by then, no peer would believe any of the more serious words I had still not given up on emitting in private. Erstwhile no one would acknowledge the “effectiveness” of the torture that had been prescribed. Mandatory injections of paliperidone every twenty eight days, still, are parallel with the use of antipsychotics in, but not necessarily limited to, the former Soviet Union- as torture agents. I’ve suffered years of extra-pyramidal side effects; intended effects, that derail my life and chances of survival.
Other mandatory drugs since 2018 have ebbed and flowed depending on my compliance with wearing certain attitudes- such as being open to interrogation by one psychiatrist or more. Zopoclone, Ativan, Invega, Venlafaxine. Benztropine- the only pharmaceutical I specifically requested from them- would relieve only slightly the extrapyramidal effects of the injections, and this drug is still repeatedly denied with the understanding I must once again submit to a psychiatrist for that to even possibly succeed. This is compounded torture.
Martha Cripps and her team are killing in fast and slow poison; she called her tool “antiperformative”. I’ve been under chemical restraint for over six years, with a known habit of speaking- about corruption. I have no choice but to surrender to Martha at least every twenty eight days. My refusal to do so means a “certificate of non-compliance”, a police visit and “hospitalization”.
Who knows what and how will who decide whom is permitted to answer this question and disseminate that information? It isn’t Gomery.
“Does the Invega help?”, asks Melissa at 91 Duke Street (You’re not allowed to protest there; it’s against the law).
“Yes” = I must need Invega
“No” = I must need more Invega
Silence would lead to Invega and involuntary hospitalization, which is detention for maintaining silence.
Martha’s needle is driven painfully, intentionally, forcefully, legally provisioned, into my shoulder. Recently, and for more than the third time, she had proposed a further form of possible torture- Irving worship it seems; a trip to Irving lands- while the needle was deep in my arm and being pushed deeper. I winced and declared the usual- a wordless expression of pain.
On the occasion of seeking the missing paper mandatory drug schedule of 2023- whose absence seemed flubbed during explanations- and to determine what was permissible by the FACT Team, I was berated by Michelle Cormier Kingsley on the phone. Michelle is the “Supervised Community Care” program “coordinator”. Nothing to see here is rather communicated: According to Kingsley, my gratitude for them (“we”) lowering the needle to fifty milligrams, though now again triple, was expected. I hung up almost as quickly as possible; agonizing the beast is dangerous in New Brunswick.
In the hearing process, the “advocate”, coordinator, chair, panel members are generally initially laughing (and so is the Premier, I suppose). Some pretend to forget names, and become friendly within while they warm up the TV that will accuse me of rolling my eyes at [Chair Daniel Leger of Holler Law] while I am trying to read my defence- a rebuttal crafted the night before, somehow, on an airgapped machine that I hope doesn’t leak enough Van-Eck to have me slaughtered in front of these people.
In the penultimate pre-hearing interrogation, Cripps asks about my relatives in Ontario. I refuse to answer. Dr. Samir Taleb enters the room to extract her, and re-enters to declare that a new mental illness application is now in the works.
A fraudulent psychiatrist is given benefit of the doubt in Canada. If it is simply asserted that I am of limited capacity to understand an application against me, they win. I am likely put in distress- grave danger of having my life legally and vulnerably ended. Taleb assumed that he took control over my life decisions and Daniel Leger assured it would happen that way. The others smiled onward.
The February 2023 outlier of injections, performed on Duke Street by “Anna” of the “Early Parapsychosis Program” was a thirty-two day bedstruck death ride I’ll describe as being quantumly paired with a nuclear warhead while witnessing my own vivisection.
I am not a broken window: “Poor life history” is the purported cause of continuing to drag a whistleblower to death.
The Senate is largely this year responsible for planned homicide, regardless of the three-year extension on psychiatric MAID. I have known the feeling of not desiring the given life, but certainly not as I pray.. Political mastery like this is the cause of my distress, and their solution, not mine. No to MAID in all forms and explicitly no to psychiatric MAID!
Only the Irving companies- satan’s breath and an affront to Canada and its sacred democracy- should be committed to the deepest grave.
Ron Robertson’s empire is in ruin because of his actions.
The Canadian Association of Petroleum Producers: genocide; chronic environmental psychopathy; attempted annihilation of governments.
Former National Energy Board Chair Lynne Mercier, who rode a bicycle to the office and lamented the documentary Last Call at The Oasis, stated, “When the pipeline is approved, “…
Colloquially, perhaps the more aforementioned have had their day in coup.
God controls the weather and so does carbon dioxide, as does the multitude of pollutants in Canada- I don’t care about the conservative party. They placed me and countless other Canadians in hell.
I pray for the avoidance of war without compromise.. We have starcraft and deepfakes and the news that may.
Irving Oil ruins nature and its bounty of trees, as does Esso and all other parties responsible for greenhouse gases and other equally deplorable emissions of pollution. Atmospheric greenhouses gases, which are already overabundant, command, in absentia, a far-beyond-equivalent of the lifesaving elimination of all pollution and the act of its emission, which should not be confused with the other necessity of atmospheric GHG concentrations merely falling by more than a few percent. Earth’s remaining ice melts and organisms otherwise have been long suffocating. The act of reducing emissions can take us to zero- fossil fuels end today.
Concommitant is the removal of mercury, lead, persistent pollutants, vast classes of. if not most, pesticides, proven-to-be-toxic synthetic fragrances- which also likely encompasses most if not all of them. Furthermore, imperative is the removal of Agent Orange from the entirety of the Earth.
The arboreal in New Brunswick and Maine which hasn’t burst into flames is coveted and considered free or even less than free, for the taking. by Irving kin who have already sacrificed many our sailors to mere sheets of paper designs of military vessel, in the most treacherous irony.
End 4D North- and involuntary antipsychotics. They’re of a fascist toolset and they hide in warfare and panic- Tell men not to fall for this!
Giving up not what society is else doing- the other things that woo less than a suicide gavel, is what ends many kinds of war.
It is imperative to end petroleum and to officially end Irving- both are full fraud. Fraudulent expressions of supposed tax pain over Canada’s highways while oil ruins every raindrop from heaven. What kind of water can one only survive drinking?
Fossil fuels are done and I believe in each of my statements.
End New Brunswick Form 1 and 4DN- Charge Samir Taleb, Pamela Forsythe, Alan Fostey, Dr. Moorti, Dr. Claude Botha, Daniel Leger, Martha Cripps, and nurse Melissa with the betrayal of Canada’s own glasnost -demonstrably corrupt and inexcusable interventions that have sought to ruin Jeff’s life and the voting public.
I am asking all friends and peers, as well as Canadian and international judiciary, to immediately remove Premier Blaine Higgs from office, and for the determination of what is known to him, and to determine the entirety of his responsibility and the responsibly of any other party. I would not -and seek not to be in the position of- hiring the ex-CFO of Irving Oil to be safeguarding New Brunswickers either four years past or any time in the future.
I humbly and respectfully invite Prime Minister Justin Trudeau to comment on Blaine Higgs’ administration in its delivery of whistleblower suppression and bodily harm, and on all criminal activity undertaken by the Canadian Association of Petroleum Producers, specifically of Schultz, and of Daniel Leger and Holler Law; whether the Prime Minister expects Mr. Higgs to return to Irving, and if the Government of Canada expects to be plaintiff or a defendant at the International Criminal Court.
In its benedict, an especially troubling queue: The beach is across the age
A forest intact feeds fish, their caretakers, and one’s own catecholamines
Take Communion and befriend
Let I be nothing but the love I sent in Christ
My home will unfail
🐟
Jeffery