Mickey Mouse's School of Shock

Rob Santana awoke terrified. He'd had that dream again, the one where silver wires ran under his shirt and into his pants, connecting to electrodes attached to his limbs and torso. Adults armed with surveillance cameras and remote-control activators watched his every move. One press of a button, and there was no telling where the shock would hit—his arm or leg or, worse, his stomach. All Rob knew was that the pain would be intense.

Every time he woke from this dream, it took him a few moments to remember that he was in his own bed, that there weren't electrodes locked to his skin, that he wasn't about to be shocked. It was no mystery where this recurring nightmare came from—not A Clockwork Orange or 1984, but the years he spent confined in America's most controversial "behavior modification" facility.

read on

Ah American Freedom, isn't it wonderful [a guy called Israel traumatizing innocent children... sounds almost exactly like the country itself], read on [and definitely read the links contained in the sidebar and throughout it too]. This story is over a year old, I'm sure most of you are aware of it and it has been posted at places like Aftermath so I won't post large chunks of it. I remember reading about this in the Times magazine prior to starting this blog with some good pictures in and stuff but I forgot about it and lost the magazine and just came across it again today; but here's a video from one of the lovely ladies over at PsycheTruth (highly recommended) covering it, to add something new.

What's with all the green and purple... I wonder.

Rainbow + Sun + Matthew Israel

The "Reward Room"

Last excerpt of interest:
"

The Mickey Mouse Club

Ten years ago, Israel hung up a Mickey Mouse poster in the main hall, and he noticed that it made people smile [I'm sure that's the reason ;]—so he bought every Mickey Mouse poster he could find. He hung them in the corridors and even papered the walls of what became known as the Mickey Mouse Conference Room. Entering the Rotenberg Center is a bit like stepping into a carnival fun house, I discovered during a two-day visit last autumn. Two brushed-aluminum dogs, each nearly 5 feet tall and sporting a purple neon collar, stand guard outside. Giant silver stars dangle from the lobby ceiling; the walls and chairs in the front offices are turquoise, lime green, and lavender. [shades of green/purple]

"