The game draws to a close

There comes a point at which things have to stop.

I want this game to be over, if ‘game’ could ever be the right word for it all. It’s time for the truth to be told – by the Todds, by the police, and by everyone else who has been complicit with this tawdry myth-making.

There are extraordinary moral dilemmas, and I am completely aware of how much I am involved with perpetuating them. The revelation that Amanda’s nickname was ‘Glowsticks’ is horrible. Of course I am aware of how distasteful it is, but then again I simply look at Carol Todd’s fine example. She was prepared to see Kody Maxson and his family destroyed. She never once spoke out about it. While lapping up the fame and fortune that came from being a failed parent, she never once stepped back to think about how she was only creating more and more prurient interest in her daughter’s activities.

I have the names in the frame. Shylah Watson, Celia Hutikka, Bianca Nitoi, Celine Haire, Tessa Elizabeth Ross Anderson. My oh my, what a wonderful bunch they are.

So I am torn. I could shake my head, close the book, and get on with other things. But there remains the open story of the real super-criminals in all this.

Carol Todd continues her search for fame and glory. There is something vomit-inducing about a woman who proclaims herself a loving mom, yet wholly cut herself away from daughter during the worst time of her life; who refers to herself as a ‘rock-star’ mom; who talks more about going to the slots in Las Vegas than she does about attending an important conference; who greets an opportunity to appear on TV with an infantile ‘woohoo’.

Norm has made some good moves, remaining out of the story, only appearing once or twice to look gormless and/or sad. And yet he was the prime parent from 2010-2011, when Amanda was at the zenith of her online exhibitionism.

And what about the cops? They MUST have known what was going on. Their email to Carol and Norm made it clear that they would have known about Glowsticks – they simply preferred to call it ‘new material’. And if they didn’t know what was going on – they certainly do now. I have done my best to keep them informed. And as for all this phoney-baloney Aydin Coban bullshit (which I might explain in full soon), they should be ashamed of themselves. It’s a total disgrace.

The Press? Don’t get me started. The Vancouver Sun (Gillian Shaw and her cronies) were taken in by the whole thing, but by the time they realised what the truth was, they were stuck like everyone else – who in their right mind would reveal that the Virgin Amanda and Saint Mother Carol are as fake as fuck? (Of course, I couldn’t slip ‘except me’ in that last sentence. I haven’t been in my right mind since about 1976).


So where does that leave us? Ages and ages ago, someone who knew Amanda posted a comment that finished with words like ‘I will not rest until the truth is told’. (The letter still exists online – I just can’t find it at the moment). As you can see from the image above, the people who were close to Amanda knew what was going on. They must have been astonished by the sudden sanctification of good old Glowsticks.

How do I finish the game? How do I force it to finish? That’s a doozy. I have tried approaching the police; I have tried approaching the Press; I have tried a lot over the last months. Carol and the Todd Squad have tried every weapon they have – Facebook harassment, death threats, the tried and trusted pedophile accusations, the ridiculous online petition to have me investigated (being totally oblivious to the fact that my juvenile response is ‘come at me, brah’). Indeed, this post will be delivered to the police once again, just so they don’t forget me.

If the game doesn’t finish, I will up the ante. Quite how that will be done remains only known to me. And yes, I will feel morally ambiguous about it all, but that’s par for the course. But in the childish fashion that seems to pervade everything from the playground to global conflict, all I can say is ‘You started it!’

I will be taking a break for a couple of days (holey moley, I need it) – mainly to give certain people a chance to respond to emails I’ve sent – but I will be back to finish the story, and to commence the last act of provocation to get an end to this farce.

Have a good Sunday!

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