If you were to research what has been said about your grandfather, you would going to find a lot of things, mostly negative.

To Grandpa’s critics and enemies I am a narcissist, which means I am grandiose (excessively grand or ambitious), arrogant, self-centered, manipulative, and demanding.  Some have called me a sociopath (another word less harsh than psychopath, which has the same meaning).

Most of the people who have ascribed these words to me don’t really know what they mean; they just say these things to make me look bad in the eyes of others who might take an interest in the work with which I am involved.

Here are a few of the main symptoms associated with a narcissistic, sociopathic person:

• Doesn’t respect social norms or laws.  They consistently break laws or overstep social boundaries.
• Lies, deceives others, uses false identities or nicknames, and uses others for personal gain.
• Doesn’t make any long-term plans.  They also often behave without thinking of consequences.
• Shows aggressive or aggravated behavior.  They consistently get into fights or physically harm others.
• Doesn’t consider their own safety or the safety of others.
• Doesn’t follow up on personal or professional responsibilities.  This can include repeatedly being late to work or not paying bills on time.
• Doesn’t feel guilt or remorse for having harmed or mistreated others.

At the time I am writing this autobiography, there are a lot of people who see me and interact with me, some on a daily basis.  There is a city close by that has laws, a government, courts, and police officers.  There are neighbors, some who have invited me to their house, but all, who if asked, would say that your grandpa is one of the kindest, most considerate and amicable people they have ever met.

I am only “Christopher” to these people.  I am just a person, a neighbor who removes their snow without charge, offers to watch their homes when they are gone, and one who greets and smiles at them whenever our paths cross.  I would never harm a soul.  I even have a little dog; her name is “Mwaw” (pronounced: French, Moí, English, Me).

I have had a few close relationships with women throughout my life; and I’ll explain each relationship in detail and in chronological order as it becomes a relevant part of my history.  These include your grandmothers—Paula Blades Aegerter, Jackie Stoll Howard, Marcee Jaynes Quirk, and Vicky Prunty Batchelor.

Except for Paula, not one of these women ever left me.  I left them.  And when I left them, oh, my—“Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned.  Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned.”

Your grandmothers were hurt because of my seemingly nonchalant (not displaying anxiety or emotion) attitude and the easiness in which I ended my relationship with each.  They knew that there was only one way they could hurt me back—keep me from seeing my children.  (And oh, my!—their rage and fury in doing this was, well, we will get to that part later.)

In Paula’s case, although she was the one who decided to leave me, she gave me full custody of Brittany and Joshua.  Why would she do this if she thought I possessed any characteristics of a narcissist or sociopath?

She did this because she knew I was a great father and could be a better parent to Brittany and Joshua than she could at the time.  To her credit, Grandma Paula thought more about her children (at this time) than she did about her own negative feelings for me, which feelings were associated with my then-religious beliefs (LDS/Mormon), rather than me being a bad person.

So, if your grandmothers are still alive, ask them this question:

“What did my Grandpa Christopher ever do that was so bad you decided to keep him from seeing our parents while they were growing up?”

Let them answer that question.

I have already reported that my father brought Paula and her father to Snohomish, Washington, to have me arrested. Then, just a short year later, I drove to Montana to let Paula and her new husband, Carl Ladenburg, know that I was going to be moving to Montana so they could come see Brittany and Joshua and visit them regularly. Despite all of this, Paula would do some terrible things to me that would eventually remove Brittany and Joshua from my custody and keep me from seeing them while they were growing up.

So, although Grandma Paula gets a slap on the back for at first thinking about her children’s best interests and allowing me to have full custody of them, she was influenced by others (my father and Carl Ladenburg) and would not disappoint your other grandmas. She would, instead, join them in persecuting me in order to keep me away from your parents.

Here’s some cool irony that you will discover as you read the details of these events later:

With my dad’s help, Paula and Carl Ladenburg were able to “buy” an attorney and a judge and use a corrupt court system to maliciously take away my rights to Brittany and Joshua.  Carl Ladenburg adopted the children.  A few years later, Carl would divorce Paula and refuse to deal with them.  In desperation, Paula eventually came into contact with me and plead with me to move to Montana. She asked me to intervene and save our son from the path of self-destruction that Carl Ladenburg’s rejection of him was leading him towards.

Now, a true narcissistic sociopath might have told Grandma Paula, “Joshua is your and Carl’s mess.  You deal with him!” But your grandpa didn’t hesitate.  Because I had his mother’s legal permission, I stepped in and took over Joshua’s life, knowing full well that I could save his life and put him on a better path.  (More details on this later.)

You see, Grandkids, in order to justify taking away my children, their mothers had to imagine and turn me into a narcissistic sociopath.  Throughout your parents’ lives, your grandmothers have painted this picture of me, a portrait painted by colors of hate and fury.  While they were with me, they didn’t want to leave and wanted me to be a part of their lives.  But once hurt, I became a monster.

In order to hold on to any self-worth and value they could, your grandmothers had to make it appear that the reason why I left them was because I am a narcissistic sociopath.  Your parents probably bought into their imagination because your grandmothers are actually very good women, who were great partners for Grandpa Aegerter, Grandpa Howard, and Grandpa Quirk.

As you consider how wonderful these grandfathers are, and how wonderful your grandmothers are, it will be very hard for you to think they could possibly do the things that they did to Grandpa Christopher. But remember something important, so that you can learn from all of this:

Your grandparents did not do these terrible things to the real kind, compassionate, funny, and good ol’ Grandpa Christopher.  They did these things, and justified doing them, to the narcissistic sociopath who they imagined Grandpa Christopher had become.

Throughout your parents’ lives, even if one of your parents wanted to find me and get to know me, they knew that upon doing so, it would break their mother’s heart.  Your grandmothers have imagined me to be an unprecedented (never done or known before) genius manipulator and deceiver.  They figured that if any of their children got to know me, I would put on the same act that made them stay with me and not want to leave.

As a good child should, they protected the tender feelings of your grandmothers, and few of my children sought me out to get to know the real me. And it came to pass, that most of my children became just like my critics and enemies.

Did I put on an act? If being a kind, compassionate, funny, and good ol’ person is just an act, I suppose I’ve been acting my entire life.

Yeah, but what about being the one and only True Messenger, a chosen failsafe meant to save humanity?  And what about all these stories about being mentored and watched over by four mortal immortals who don’t age, two who have lived upon Earth for literally billions of years? Grandpa, if that ain’t bordering on a narcissistic sociopathic disorder, I don’t know what is!  Right Okay, you got me there.

I am no different than the Messiah of the Jews, the Jesus of the Christians, the Mohammed of the Muslims, or the Joseph Smith of the Mormons.  Each of these made the same type of claims as I have.  Each of these professed to be a messenger who could save the world through their message.

And, if you read what their critics and enemies say about them, you’ll discover that, according to their reports, none of the above-mentioned “messengers” respected the social norms and laws of their day.  They were all accused of lying, deceiving others, using false identities or nicknames, and using others for personal gain.  It was said of each of them that, except for saving the world, none of them made any long-term plans and they often behaved without thinking of the consequences.  Each of them were accused of showing aggressive or aggravated behavior.  (Mohammed and Joseph Smith even had their own personal army.)

None of them were described as considering their own safety or the safety of others.  None of them were said to have followed up on personal or professional responsibilities, because none of them worked at a normal job or paid any bills.  Each of them were accused of feeling no guilt or remorse for having harmed or mistreated others.

Don’t you think the way the Jewish Messiah was described showed mistreatment of those who weren’t Jews?  Read the Old Testament.  And in the New Testament, the Jews didn’t appreciate Jesus telling them that they were corrupt either.  As described by critics, Mohammed allowed his followers to take advantage and sometimes kill others who threatened him, and so did Joseph Smith.

Now here again is some cool irony:

There are literally billions of people upon Earth who believe that these men were chosen by God to save the world and punish those who don’t believe in God. Yet others describe them as having a narcissistic sociopathic disorder that includes grandiosity, arrogance, and self-centered, manipulative, and demanding behavior.

Consider how these billions of people think and pray to their respective God. They bow their head, close their eyes, some prostrate themselves on the ground, and they actually believe that a powerful entity that is in full control and in touch with billions of people on Earth, takes the time to listen to what they are saying when they pray. Everything that these billions of believers ask in their prayers is self-centered, manipulative, and demanding.

“Dear Heavenly Father.  My wife and I are trying to decide whether we should place our children in childcare so that she can go back to work so I can continue my education and obtain a better degree to provide for our growing family.  Dear Father, not our will, but Thine be done.  Please bless us with your Holy Spirit and tell us what Thou would have us do in this situation.  We will do whatever Thou instructs us through the gift of Thy Holy Spirit which Thou hast given to us and by which we are to know Thy will in all things.  Please bless us to make the right decision for our family.  We ask these things of Thee, humbly in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.”

While billions of people were suffering in abject poverty throughout the world, while I was growing up, we were not allowed to eat, until we distracted God for a few moments—when He should have been helping the people who didn’t have a pot to piss in—to say this prayer:

“Heavenly Father, we thank Thee for this food.  Please bless it that it may nourish and strengthen our bodies.  Please bless those who don’t have any that they may have some next time.  In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.”

We prayed like this before every meal we ate!

I would often hear Gloria say similar terms to the following when she became frustrated with me, “You’re as useless as tits on a boar!”

“If you had any intentional fortitude [I didn’t have a clue as a kid what this meant], you’d do something useful!”

“God only helps those who help themselves!”

Not once do I ever remember Gloria saying these types of things to Kevin Wendell—not once.  She would often say these things to Joel Nathan, but never to Kevin.  Kevin would one day find a great deal of value in the world and from the family, as a full-bird Colonel in the United States Army.  Joel would struggle throughout his life doing everything he could to gain value in the eyes of his mother and our father.  And me?

Well, I would become the ONLY TRUE GOD’S LAST TRUE MESSENGER!

Are you beginning to see a pattern here, grandkids? My critics and enemies think they do.  They believe that, in order to gain the value and self-worth that I was denied as a child, my incredible genius mind imagined my mentors and the work that I do.  They believe that I am seeking for value and purpose, praise and glory, honor and prestige, because I didn’t get it when I was a little boy.

Okay, they got me!  NOT!

Let’s consider the Real Truth™ about what I could have become had I so chosen. I could have become a world reknowned criminal defense attorney, who could have earned millions by representing clients who were actually guilty, but were found not guilty because of my extraordinary ability to manipulate and deceive a jury of their peers.  I can do it through religion, so why couldn’t I have done the same thing through the law?

In every job that I had, I was the best—ALWAYS! You will not find a job in my employment history at which I was not the best.  I could take more college classes per semester than the brightest of the bright and score straight As.  I was offered a teaching contract without having either a degree or a teaching certificate.  I could have manipulated and deceived any woman, of any status, whom I chose, to love and accept me.  I helped a company win a court case, after which the owner made me the CEO and paid me a very good six-figure salary.  In my fifties I could bench press close to 300 pounds, outrun most men half my age, and do extraordinary physical things.

Yet, in spite of my potential (which isn’t bragging, because these are facts) I chose to do things that make most people hate me and call me a narcissistic sociopath.

Few are intimately involved in my life.  When my neighbors and people in town see me, they greet me as I really am, not the narcissistic sociopathic monster that my enemies and critics would like me to be.  I don’t need to put on an act.  I just be moí—just like my little Chihuahua.

Now, if Grandpa could not actually do any of the things that I actually did, then it would make complete sense that not being able to accomplish anything of worldly value or worth, I would invent something for myself that would address and make up for my shortcomings and inabilities—become the world’s Messiah.

But anyways …

My mother reports that I was sucking my thumb in the womb.  When I came out of her womb, my thumb was wide and pressed out from sucking it.  I would suck my thumb until I was almost eight-years old.  My dad would do many things, attempting to stop me from sucking my thumb.  He would put cayenne pepper on my thumbs.  He would tape gloves on my hands.  He would threaten me with spankings.  No matter what he did, I kept sucking my thumb.

The same “smart” people—at least whom the world believes are smart—who defined what narcissistic sociopathic behavior is, also explained why infants suck their thumb:

“Babies have natural rooting and sucking reflexes, which can cause them to put their thumbs or fingers into their mouths — sometimes even before birth.  Because thumb sucking makes babies feel secure, some babies might eventually develop a habit of thumb sucking when they’re in need of soothing or going to sleep.”

I was born to a young mother who didn’t like her life married to an LDS/Mormon priesthood holder, who already had two young boys when I came along and had to deal with me and my older brothers when another boy and little girl came shortly thereafter.

How much security did I feel?  How much soothing could she give me?

My mother would also report that, of all of her children, I was the quietest, the kindest, and the gentlest and that, when I was not sucking my thumb and twirling a bit of my own hair, I was touching women’s skirts and gently caressing the small part of the fabric I was holding—also while sucking my thumb.

I had big, beautiful greenish-blue eyes with longer-than-normal eyelashes.  I had a lot going for me as a child, but I still sucked my thumb for many of my formative years in order to feel secure and soothed, until I was almost eight-years old.

And then Gloria became the only mother figure in my life.

Because of my consistent thumb-sucking for so many years, I developed a speech impediment.  I could not pronounce certain sounds, no matter how hard I tried.  On one occasion, shortly after Gloria entered my life, I was being babysat by one of Gloria’s nieces.  I will not reveal who this niece is, because it wasn’t entirely her fault for what she did to a beautiful, big, greenish-blue-eyed little boy who always sucked his thumb. But what she did, couldn’t have been good for him.

She sat me in front of her and demanded that I pronounce the words correctly.  (I could not pronounce the “f” sound or the “th” sound.)  Each time I would mispronounce the word she wanted me to repeat, she would slap me across the face.  I was sobbing, tears streaming down my face, mixed with the snot that also flowed.  I tried my hardest; but could not pronounce the words properly.

I would later see a video of that event.  (How the video was recorded and how I saw it … well, I won’t say here.)  I wept profusely as I saw this little boy, who was actually me, being slapped every time he mispronounced the words.  But as I watched the scene, I didn’t see the little boy as me.  I saw the little boy as a little boy.  It was devastating to watch, to say the least.

Today, Grandpa is very proficient at pronouncing “f” words. But anyways …

We were living in Alpine, Utah, when Gloria received the phone call that her father had passed away in Ucon.  We attended his funeral.  I cried and sucked my thumb away from the rest of the people.  I didn’t really know her father, Wendell Harmon, very well, but the funeral was a sad occasion—and being the narcissist sociopath that I am, my gentle disposition and compassion for others caused the tears, regardless of who was lying before me in a casket.

I would attend 3rd, 4th, 5th, 6th and 7th grades while living on the farm that my father and Gloria purchased from the Harmon family after Wendell Harmon’s death.  Living on a farm would provide my brothers and me with a strong foundational work ethic that would help us work hard throughout our lives.

I milked a cow in the early morning hours before going to school and then again in the evening.  We raised cows, horses, pigs, chickens, alfalfa hay, wheat, and had a huge vegetable garden.  I hold a lot of good memories from those formative years living on the farm in Ucon, Idaho.  I could write another book about them.  But of these experiences, it’s important for you to know that they were normal experiences of any young farm boy.

One experience stands out as something that you might want to consider as you determine for yourself whether your Grandpa is a narcissistic sociopath or not.  It was an experience that was far from what any other normal farm boy would experience.  And I highly doubt that anyone, ever, has experienced the same or reported that they have.

I had just received the LDS Aaronic Priesthood.  I was twelve years old.  I was so excited to have God’s power on Earth.  I was so proud when I was first able to pass the sacrament at church and say that I was a priesthood holder.  I took my priesthood authority very seriously.

I found myself in a field one evening, wearing oversized farm gloves and holding a shovel.  We flood-irrigated the fields.  It was my assignment that evening to walk across the field and make sure that the water was getting to every part.  Where the water was not reaching, we were taught how to dig up dirt and create a small dike that would direct the water to the part that wasn’t getting any.

I started thinking about Jesus and the sacrifice that He had made for our sins.  I pondered on how He must of felt in the Garden of Gethsemane, where He bled from every pore because of the great pain He was suffering because of our sins.  I felt very sorry for Him.  I bowed my head, closed my eyes, and asked Heavenly Father to take away all of Jesus’ pain for just 30 seconds and let me feel it, so He didn’t have to.  I held the handle of my shovel very tightly, clenched my teeth, and cringed, as I waited to feel Jesus’ great pain for our many sins.

Nothing happened, of course; but I sure tried.

Some might say that I tried because I am a narcissistic sociopath.  Some might say this very act demonstrates that I think I am someone special.  These would be wrong.  This young farm boy leaning on his shovel and praying to his God didn’t want to become Jesus; he only wanted to take away the pain that he thought another person might be suffering.

I’ve explained how many people think they are special, because they lack the worldly skills and ability to actually be valued by the world.  To compensate for what they lack, they imagine being visited by God or Jesus and receiving some special commission to be a messenger to other people.

In every case, these have sought to be known, to hold meetings, to be seen, to be acknowledged, to receive financial support, sometimes even sex, and in many other ways receive from others honor and glory for being a chosen vessel.  They wanted to be special.  When they prayed to their God, they asked that God’s will be done, similarly to how the couple asked in the above prayer, seeking to be guided to do the right thing.  And these always received an answer to their prayer.

It would be Joseph Smith who would reveal the entity that is actually answering ALL mortal prayers, calling upon God to direct them and give them value—Lucifer, the God of this world, the ONLY god that hears and answers prayers.

Yep, all LDS people who view their temple endowment presentation should know this.  They should know that ALL of their prayers are answered by their own narcissistic sociopathic tendencies.  They actually believe that they have the ability and the right to address the Almighty, Omnipotent, Omnipresent, Omniscient God and have God take the time to hear them and answer their demanding prayers.

The actual god who hears and answers all religious prayers is the same god responsible for all the poverty, inequality, and misery upon this earth.  It is a god that I would fight with my own narcissistic sociopathic disorde—the human ego. Grandpa’s god would never allow poverty and inequality upon Earth.

Remember when I wrote that I would never in billions and billions of years treat my son the way that my father treated me?  I gave a clue here.

Each one of us is connected to our True Self.  Each of our True Selves has a specific way that our mortal Self acts while experiencing mortal life upon Earth.  No matter in what incarnate my father has existed as a mortal, he did the same type of things.  No matter what incarnate I had as a mortal, as I told you, I did the same things that I am doing in this one.

Unfortunately for those of this world who do bad things to others, there is no progression of our souls.  However you act during this life, you’ve acted the exact same way in all of your other lives.  You cannot repent of being you.  No matter how much tithing you pay, no matter how many times you attend the temple, no matter how many Hail Marys you say, and no matter what you have been taught by religion—your actions are indicative of your chosen humanity type.

Now, these aren’t really bad people.  They are highly advanced humans, who developed into a person who chooses to act and be acted upon in their conscious environment—either to serve their own self-interests and needs, serve another’s self-interests and needs, or have their self-interests and needs served by others.

This world is all about people having their self-worth and needs served by others.  People value their own family over every other family in the world, because it serves them the way they need to be served.  People value their race, their religion, their nationality, and their ancestry, because it serves them to value these worldly things.

People create (imagine) enemies and fear them if what their enemies believe does not support what they believe—what gives them their worth and value.

The reason why this world is failing is because there are way too many of this kind of people.  They are only nice to people who are nice to them.  They are only good to people who are good to them.  They are only kind to people who are kind to them.

They find a lot of good in a terrible world because they refuse to focus on the poverty, inequality, and misery from which millions of other people suffer. They focus only on their family being okay, supported and protected in the world.  These do not realize that THEY are the cause of the poverty, inequality, and misery that is experienced in this world—THEY AND THEIR GOD.  Their families are the cause.  Their religions are the cause.  Their race, their nationality, and their genealogy are the cause.

Your great-grandfather and your grandmothers cannot change who they are.  They are not like me.  I’m very different from these people, grandchildren.  I would never treat your great-grandfather or any of your grandmothers like they have treated me.  Never—not in billions and billions of years.

I am not like any of my siblings.  I am not like any of my neighbors.  Except for my four imagined (according to my critics and enemies) mentors and a few other mortals, who are very, very few, I am not like anyone else currently living upon this Earth.

If I am seen by the normal world as being a narcissistic sociopath, then that’s okay by me … because I certainly do not want to be seen as a normal person.

I am who I am, who I have always been—world’s without end.

I knew this long before I was born into this world—a world where I very well knew that my own type of narcissistic sociopathic behavior would not do well.  I knew I would not receive any security or soothing from my present incarnate living in this world.  So …

I sucked my thumb in my mother’s womb—and for many years thereafter.