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CRIME AND CONSEQUENCE IN AMERICA – A Creative Depopulation Methodology
Helena Glass

The cost to incarcerate one person has risen from roughly $19,000 per year in 2000 to over half a million on Riker’s Island.   In 2021 NYC spent $556,539 per each inmate – having doubled the cost from 2015.   Housing 10,000 inmates, Riker’s annual cost is $5.565 BILLION. The cost to keep someone in solitary vs with the general prison population is roughly 20% MORE.   Could these figures be the real reason cities are allowing crime?   They don’t want to ante up for the Cost?   Or maybe they don’t have personnel?   It is high time we re-introduce slave labor for prisoners.

In 2023 we house about 2.2 million inmates who sit idle while taxpayers foot the bills.

Here is Chicago’s Take on Prison Labor:

U.S. prison labor programs violate fundamental human rights, new report finds. Prison laborers are at the mercy of their employers. They have no control over their work assignments, are excluded from minimum wage and overtime protections, are unable to unionize, do not receive adequate training and equipment, and are denied workplace safety guarantees despite often dangerous working conditions.

They are Criminals!   They are NOT employees.   But maybe they could work off the cost of their incarceration via a standard minimum wage.   Varying by state, let’s use $150,000 per year cost to incarcerate, with a 7 year prison term earning $15 per hour.   At the end of 7 years they would have paid off (interest free) $210,000 on their $1,050,000 debt.   Somehow that is deemed an infringement of human rights.

But that doesn’t begin to address the cost of criminals.   What about ‘reparations’ for the victims?

Once a person is released they must meet with a parole officer, get drug and alcohol testing, and take re-education anger management classes.   All add to the pork belly of debt after prison.   Finding a job is nearly impossible and for many prisoners they are given an envelop with $20 and the boot!

According to prison data, 75% of the costs associated with a prisoner are security and healthcare. Somewhere in the mayhem of critical thinking, the leftist liberals decided that charging a prisoner for his costs to stay in prison was disgraceful!   How dare they!   A welfare handout – free room and board was mandated –

Prisoner Rights Are More Important Than The Victims.

When advocating for prisoner rights, no one seems at all concerned with the losses endured by the victims.   How Dare They!  Human Rights For Criminals!   But human rights have now become a catch-all for the criminal – so what is the deterrence?   How many times have we heard of ex-prisoners committing crimes so they can return to the life of free room and board?   Saved from the loonies walking the streets!   Saved from the bigger loonies managing our country in what we call Congress.

If we were to imprison Hunter, Blinken, Clinton, etc…   how much do you think it would cost?   Certainly Hillary would demand that her NY State residence be reproduced on prison grounds… complete with pool, sauna, maids, etc…   Her pension is FAR LESS!

Ultimately that is the juggle – the cost to incarcerate vs the cost to commit egregious crimes.   When the local DA and mayor measure these offsets, this is what determines the value of imprisonment.   When a criminal commits crimes, the victim is usually a citizen – not the government.   Therefore allowing criminal activity impacts citizens – NOT the government wallet.   A deflection of cost.

Same Chicago:   What is the annual COST of crime in the US?   Answer = $4.7 to 5.8 Trillion – with a capital T.  

Today we have a black inner city population that is immune to consequence for crime.   Emboldened and egocentric, these persons are committing the most heinous assaults for NO REASON other than the high of adrenaline encapsulated within a universal hatred of everything.

Cities and states are doing nothing to mitigate the risk to innocent citizens – making them complicit in the outcomes.   WHY?   As cities implode in crime, more residents leave, less tax revenue received, more cut budgets, and more CRIME.   It is a Mad Max scenario of primal existence.

Yet in the end, the same Handlers pronouncing Human Rights defense will be the ones opening the gas chambers. Too Far Gone!

The purpose leans toward the WEF Agenda of only the Best 1 billion will survive –   Leaving us to speculate that the destruction and rampant crime within major cities is a siphoning of the elimination of the worst being set up for mass gassing of the ‘riff-raff’.

And their NGO Handlers will be the first in line to press the “Red Button”.

In order to effectively depopulate earth as per the WEF convention, one must first rid the planet of the weakest links.   Those that have no productive value.   IN order to ascertain exactly who those links are – the Cartel has devised a means of undivided animosity toward the criminal mindset.

The methodology worked when inciting a near 50% animosity toward Russia – built on fake Disinformation and Propaganda.   Now they are using this same tool to take out the predominant Black Communities from Large cities.   And NO ONE is complaining.   Not even Blacks!

When looking for military recruits – the same agenda is deployed – if you support drag queen special ops – sign here.   When looking for teachers – the agenda is to find the one most vacant and brain cleaved in order to isolate who is a droid with little – critical thinking. NOT because the military or Education Department have ANY initiative to enhance their agencies and AMERICA – but as a means of isolating the weak and most vulnerable to ‘depopulation’.

CRIMINALS do NOT have human rights because they have denounced those rights within their CRIME.   I fully support the ideology that ALL Criminals should work labor to pay for the cost of incarceration as well as the cost of their crimes to VICTIMS. ONLY when consequence is the Mantra will Crime fade



Growing up in Germany, my father was stationed there as head of Defense Intelligence for Europe, – and my brothers and I necessarily tagged along.

We lived in East Berlin before the wall, Nurnberg and Heidelberg.   Most often we lived off-base in crumbling mansions rented to the Army.  Underground tunnels, fake libraries, bombed stairways that led to nowhere, the houses had stories to tell and I loved to walk between the pillars of those stories.

In Nurnberg, our cellar held a vast vault, the steel door perhaps 6″ thick!   Empty then, it once held the treasures of  Hitler’s world of Art Confiscation.   And our residence was once Hitler’s home.  Frau Bette felt it was a story that I should be told, and never forget.   And so, one afternoon she opened the vault and with her 8 assorted cats she sat me down and began the story of WWII…  I never forgot.

Traveling throughout Europe, often times by private train in the middle of the night, we would be escorted by armed security and directed to run to our private car flanked by men and guns.  This was my normal.    Other times we traveled by car to enchanted old world cities throughout Italy, Holland, Austria, Luxembourg and of course, the small cobble towns with which Germany was replete.

It was a time of spooks and spook parties.  Cold War.   The good guys were evident – the bad guys well pronounced.   While propaganda was alive, I was oblivious.   I frequently wonder what my father could tell me today – although the one time I did try I was met with the spook line,  ‘if I tell ya, I gotta kill ya’.  Choosing life, I was happy to simply be his – daughter.

Nearly every country was represented at the spook parties, each person slyly pretending he wasn’t a spook.  An odd game.  But one far less complicated than what we are subjected to today.  In my father’s droll sense of humor, he took to wearing a floor length black cape, a fedora, and thick black leather gloves, whilst using his riding crop for emphasis, the dramatic persona of wit in the game of spook.

It was a lovely time, privileged in many ways, ordinary in others, but it formed a different me, that wasn’t like others.

IN this my life, my father taught me three core values:  integrity, honor and respect.   This was the code.   I have held to this code my entire life, thru trials, thru cavernous faults, and capsized Sunfish.   I refused to succumb to the triviality of those who marauded and instead sought to make this my legacy in teaching my Three Sons.   It has become our heritage within this cycle of values.

There are few people that understand what these three words truly mean.  There are fewer that can put them into action.  And there are fewer still who wear them in their heart.  It is those who wear them in their heart that fumble, make mistakes, fall, and get back in the saddle.  That is what we do.

And so, I am a different soul, born within something my father gave to me, a heart that can never die no matter the beatings.

Stationed back to the States as a teenager, none of us really wanted to leave Europe, but we, necessarily, tagged along.   The Pentagon was my father’s destination, Virginia was ours and I found myself in somewhat of a culture shock.  Much more naive than my peers, it was a difficult transition.

At the ripe age of sweet sixteen, despite my mother’s objections, my father sent me to Paris to study the arts so as to become more refined and cultured.  Dance took hold, and I quickly found my first ‘gift’.

Drafted into a company at 18, by 21, if I was going to pursue dance fully, New York was the only option.  Juilliard offered, I declined.  So my father sent me to college where I graduated with a degree in Finance and Accounting.  My first major tectonic shift.   A world outside of Art.

Many tragedies, much joy, more drama than I care to remember, I ended up living on a Passport 40′ sailboat in Sausalito with my husband ten years later.  My father had taught me to sail as a teenager and I quickly came to find – after the purchase – that my husband was a complete and utter novice.  But we were determined souls and sailed daily in the Bay, up the Delta, and ultimately to Santa Barbara, LA, and the Channel Islands.

Many stories abound of those sailing years, near catastrophes, much comedy, and much Life!

Many moons passed, I lost a husband and was raising my three sons when I perchance was introduced to a sculptor.  With much pleading, he agreed to be my mentor and train me in the art of bronze sculpting.  Four days a week, and one year later, he set me free.

I had once again found a gift, a passion.  It was an enormous joy!

Immersed, I sculpted. I created. Prolific and dedicated, my talent shined!  And I was happy for a time.  But life interjected with my second husband’s infidelities, the dark web, disease, lies and theft.  The storms were violent in their thrashing.

Still, with time, I remembered what my father had taught me, the values that would hold me together and the unending hope and belief that one day I will be loved as I know it is meant to be, where the legacy of a life is not in simplistic selfishness, but in the meaning of why we are here.   Perhaps I am a female version of Don Quixote, a free spirit, a bit off, a bit different, riding Rocinante and fighting windmills!

What I know is the world we are witness to today is not a Cinderella fit for me – and yet there is only one way to get back in the saddle and ride.   Holding a bridle of Honor, Respect and Integrity.

Grace~  Helena

Professional Bio:

BS in Business & Finance

CPA  certified

Series 7 certification – stock broker

Mortgage Broker

Various positions as Finance Director/Comptroller for Real Estate Developers and Financial Planners.


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