(Reader: Latless Susan) Unparalleled Transmissions of Latless: Enhanced Human Radio – Feb 16 2023

Reader Post | By Latless Susan

Edu-tainment (Based on a true story) Script from presentation 11 Feb 2023, Fredericksburg, VA:

Unparalleled Transmissions of Latless: 

Enhanced Human Radio

Greetings. I am called Latless. I am a Radio cleverly disguised as a female human.

How do I know I’m a girl? It’s simple. I receive more than I transmit. I listen way more than I talk.

I am a Big Darn Radio. I’ve done many things.

I have worn many disguises. I’ve received enough for me to morph into an engineering student, a university professor, a management consultant, a family historian and genealogist, a night club entertainer, a minister and a notary. I can marry you, bury you, counsel you, edify you, entertain you, research you, attest you. I can even rewire you.

It’s truly been an unparalleled life. [PAUSE]

Years ago, I tried to explain this to some friends. They said, “Maybe you were abducted by aliens, my dear.”

I no longer transmit to those friends.

I’ll explain myself the best I can. Maybe you will understand.

I am here to transmit a very important message. So tune-in and listen very carefully. There are no rewind or playback buttons on this Radio.

I declare this my unparalleled transmission for 11 February 2023. [PAUSE]

When I was created, Dwight David Eisenhower was President of the United States. Everyone called him “Ike”. Like in “Yike”. But that’s because calling Eisenhower “Yikes” would be rude.

You may remember that Eisenhower was the President temporarily detained by aliens.

These aliens knew what few other humans then understood. They knew that all human beings are Radios, but that not all Radios are human.

The aliens offered our President access to out-of-this-world technology, unlike anything imagined by the likes of Ike.

What promise did they need to extract from “Yikes”?

They wanted unrestricted rights to capture ordinary citizen-band Radios for use as test subjects in secret experiments.

They wanted to turn them into lifelong remote controlled couriers, slaves and spies.

In the early 1960s, thousands of little Radios were captured. 

Experiments were conducted on children Radios.

I was one of those children.

The result? You are looking at an original, prototype, full-scale, much older now, working model of an experimental remote controlled human Radio system. I’m programmed multi-band and multi-dimensional. I can be signaled and sent anywhere, if you have the right decoder keys.

I was made into a Sentinel. I’m like a watcher, sort of “a canary in the coal mine”. I am an event detector. As a Sentinel, I am under the aegis of THE HERMIT PROJECT. That’s HERMIT spelled “H” “E” “R” “M” “I” “T”. HOTEL ECHO ROMEO MIKE INDIA TANGO. It means Human Enhanced Radio Military Intelligence Technology. Hermit.

Now most people think of hermits as loners or reclusive. But it’s not because we aren’t of value. I was designed to be very important. I may be quiet, and am often isolated, but

I have a high tolerance for ambiguity. All the best hermits do.

There are lots of hermits out there. So many, I founded a national holiday to celebrate us. It’s called National Hermit Week. Our hermit holiday slogan is: Don’t be a loner alone.

I didn’t always know I was a hermit. I only woke up a few decades ago.

One New Year’s Eve, THE BEST WORST THING HAPPENED TO ME. It was the turning point in my life to discover what I was.

On that night, I was scheduled to be SACRIFICED on the altar of useless technology. I was deemed no longer viable for the task at hand. I was to be expended. To be ‘thrown off the freedom train’, like so many Radios before me. 

What I most remember about that night was being paralyzed. I screamed inside, “If anyone’s out there won’t you help me?” 

Through a unique series of events, I was RESCUED.

After a flurry of unusual activity, I was cut loose, and threatened with permanent annihilation. I was Denied the latitude to speak my truth. I was cut off from my parallel of latitude guidance system. Those “in the know” declared me “LAT-LESS”. I was forced into hiding for a long time.

I began to remember things which were suppressed for years. I remembered so much I thought my head would explode.

My entire foundation about what I thought possible was shaken. . . I was shocked awake.

How am I still here? What were the KEYS to my survival?

I held a strong faith in something greater than myself. I told GOD everything. And I PRAYED a lot.

I had a solid early family foundation. Looking back on the many positive things in my life helped me regain my bearings.

One of the most powerful KEYS to my overcoming was FORGIVENESS.I discovered that forgiving breaks the controllers’ grip. [PAUSE]

I often return to a poem my mother wrote for me when I graduated from high school. It was a PROPHETIC word spoken into my life when I was 17. This is my poem. The one my mother wrote for me. It is appropriately titled:



“Woman-child, you stand in a hall of doors. None of them have been opened for you, but you have been given the keys.

Behind one door there is heart bursting joy. You may open that door only on occasion and I cannot predict when those occasions will be.

Behind another door there is a glass marked ‘small pleasures and contentment’. Open frequently and drink deeply.

Yet another door reveals a pillow soaked with tears. My love, you must open that door too. May God grant not too often.

A door marked ‘worry, discouragement and fear’ will sometimes swing open of its own accord. You have the power within you to close it quickly and move on.

There is another door. Standing outside you hear laughter, lovers murmuring, music, the cry of a new born babe, the death rattles of the old. It is irresistible. You must go in.

It is filled with sound and light and color, new people, new places, new loves. Things to learn, to do, to see. It vibrates, swarms and sometimes overwhelms. 

It is the great room, all others are anterooms.

And sometimes, when it becomes too much for you, if you look carefully, you will see a dusty corner and a small door. 

This is the door to memories, old friends, beloved books and poems, childhood fancies. 

It is quiet here. There is the not unpleasant smell of an old attic on a rainy day.

Dimly seen in the corner there is an old trunk. Lift the lid and you will see a small package. The contents seem to be straining against the brightly colored bindings.

Open it, I give it freely.

It is my heart. 

Love, Mother”

And this is my heart. Many of my Radio friends didn’t make it out alive. Some were decommissioned before they found out how they’d been used. Others vanished. Some were so disabled they were never again able to function in mainstream society. And some had their reputations so destroyed that no one would ever believe them. They never got to tell their stories.

If anyone is helped by what I shared in this moment, it’s worth any further harassment I may come to endure.

This concludes my Unparalleled Transmission for 11 February 2023.

I am Latless, Enhanced Human Radio.

Thank you for tuning in.


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