#Harlem Foreclosure Defense

[mfi-miami]

Harlem Homeowner Sees Mortgage Balloon From $100,000 To $7 Million

Harlem Homeowner Sees Mortgage Balloon From $100,000 To $7 Million

Elderly Harlem Homeowner Giselle Allard’s Mortgage Balloons From $100,000 To $7 Million 

An elderly Harlem homeowner who owns four Harlem brownstones may end up homeless. All because of the massive debt on one of the properties that ballooned beyond control.

What began as a $100,000 mortgage 20 years ago on a dirt-cheap piece of property along a crime-ridden neighborhood has escalated…

[thevividgreenmoss]

Obama occasionally denounced the ‘fat cats’ of Wall Street, but Wall Street contributed heavily to his campaign, and he entrusted his economic policy to it early in his tenure, bailing out banks and the insurance mega-company AIG with no quid pro quo. African-Americans had turned out in record numbers in 2008, demonstrating their love of an ostensible compatriot, but Obama ensured that he would be immune to the charge of loving blacks too much. Colour-blind to the suffering caused by mortgage foreclosures, he scolded African-Americans, using the neoliberal idiom of individual responsibility, for their moral failings as fathers, husbands and competitors in the global marketplace. Nor did he wish to be seen as soft on immigration; he deported millions of immigrants – Trump is struggling to reach Obama’s 2012 peak of 34,000 deportations a month. In his memoir, Dreams from My Father, he had eloquently sympathised with the marginalised and the powerless. In power, however, he seemed in thrall to Larry Summers and other members of the East Coast establishment, resembling not so much the permanently alienated outsider as the mixed-race child of imperialism, who, as Ashis Nandy diagnosed in The Intimate Enemy, replaces his early feeling for the weak with ‘an unending search for masculinity and status’. It isn’t surprising that this harbinger of hope and change anointed a foreign-policy hawk and Wall Street-friendly dynast as his heir apparent. His post-presidency moves – kite-surfing with Richard Branson on a private island, extravagantly remunerated speeches to Wall Street and bromance with George Clooney – have confirmed Obama as a case of mistaken identity. As David Remnick, his disappointed biographer, said recently, ‘I don’t think Obama was immune to lures of the new class of wealth. I think he’s very interested in Silicon Valley, stars and showbusiness, and sports, and the rest.’

Embodying neoliberal chic at its most seductive, Obama managed to restore the self-image of American elites in politics, business and the media that had been much battered during the last years of the Bush presidency. In the updated narrative of American exceptionalism, a black president was instructing the world in the ways of economic and social justice. Journalists in turn helped boost the fantastical promises and unexamined assumptions of universal improvement; some saw Coates himself as an icon of hope and change. A 2015 profile in New York magazine describes him at the Aspen Ideas Festival, along with Bill Kristol, Jeffrey Goldberg, assorted plutocrats and their private jets, during the ‘late Obama era’, when ‘progress was in the air’ and the ‘great question’ after the legalisation of gay marriage was: ��would the half-century-long era of increasing prosperity and expanding human freedom prove to be an aberration or a new, permanent state?’ Coates is awkward among Aspen’s panjandrums. But he thinks it is too easy for him to say he’d be happier in Harlem. ‘Truthfully,’ he confesses, ‘I’m very happy to be here. It’s very nice.’ According to the profile-writer, ‘there is a radical chic crowd assembling around Coates’ – but then he is ‘a writer who radicalises the Establishment’.

For a self-aware and independent-minded writer like Coates, the danger is not so much seduction by power as a distortion of perspective caused by proximity to it. In his account of a party for African-American celebrities at the White House in the late Obama era, his usually majestic syntax withers into Vanity Fair puffs: ‘Women shivered in their cocktail dresses. Gentlemen chivalrously handed over their suit coats. Naomi Campbell strolled past the security pen in a sleeveless number.’ Since Clinton, the reflexive distrust of high office once shared by writers as different as Robert Lowell and Dwight Macdonald has slackened into defensiveness, even adoration, among the American literati. Coates proprietorially notes the ethnic, religious and racial variety of Obama’s staff. Everyone seems overwhelmed by a ‘feeling’, that ‘this particular black family, the Obamas, represented the best of black people, the ultimate credit to the race, incomparable in elegance and bearing.’ Not so incomparable if you remember Tina Brown’s description of another power couple, the Clintons, in the New Yorker in 1998: ‘Now see your president, tall and absurdly debonair, as he dances with a radiant blonde, his wife.’ ‘The man in a dinner jacket’, Brown wrote, possessed ‘more heat than any star in the room (or, for that matter, at the multiplex)’. After his visit, Joe Eszterhas, screenwriter of Showgirls and Basic Instinct, exulted over the Clinton White House’s diverse workforce: ‘full of young people, full of women, blacks, gays, Hispanics’. ‘Good Lord,’ he concluded in American Rhapsody, ‘we had taken the White House! America was ours.’

A political culture where progress in the air was measured by the president’s elegant bearing and penchant for diversity was ripe for demagoguery. The rising disaffection with a narcissistic and callous ruling class was signalled in different ways by the Tea Party, Occupy, Black Lives Matter and Bernie Sanders’s insurgent candidacy. The final blow to the Washington (and New York) consensus was delivered by Trump, who correctly read the growing resentment of elites – black or white, meritocratic or dynastic – who presumed to think the White House was theirs. Writing in Wiredmagazine a month before Trump’s election, Obama hailed the ‘quintessentially American compulsion to race for new frontiers and push the boundaries of what’s possible’. Over lunch at the White House, he assured Coates that Trump’s victory was impossible. Coates felt ‘the same’. He now says that ‘adherents and beneficiaries’ of white supremacy loathed and feared the black man in the White House – enough to make Trump ‘president, and thus put him in position to injure the world’. ‘Every white Trump voter is most certainly not a white supremacist,’ Coates writes in a bitter epilogue to We Were Eight Years in Power. ‘But every Trump voter felt it acceptable to hand the fate of the country over to one.’ This, again, is true in a banal way, but inadequate as an explanation: Trump also benefited from the disappointment of white voters who had voted, often twice, for Obama, and of black voters who failed to turn out for Hillary Clinton. Moreover, to blame a racist ‘whitelash’ for Trump is to exculpate the political, business and media luminaries Coates has lately found himself with, especially the journalists disgraced, if not dislodged, by their collaboration in a calamitous racist-imperialist venture to make America great again.

As early as 1935, W.E.B. Du Bois identified fear and loathing of minorities as a ‘public and psychological wage’ for many whites in American society. More brazenly than his predecessors, Trump linked the misfortunes of the ‘white working class’ to Chinese cheats, Mexican rapists and treacherous blacks. But racism, Du Bois knew, was not just an ugly or deep-rooted prejudice periodically mobilised by opportunistic politicians and defused by social liberalism: it was a widely legitimated way of ordering social and economic life, with skin colour only one way of creating degrading hierarchies. Convinced that the presumption of inequality and discrimination underpinned the making of the modern world, Du Bois placed his American experience of racial subjection in a broad international context. Remarkably, all the major black writers and activists of the Atlantic West, from C.L.R. James to Stuart Hall, followed him in this move from the local to the global. Transcending the parochial idioms of their national cultures, they analysed the way in which the processes of capital accumulation and racial domination had become inseparable early in the history of the modern world; the way race emerged as an ideologically flexible category for defining the dangerously lawless civilisational other – black Africans yesterday, Muslims and Hispanics today. The realisation that economic conditions and religion were as much markers of difference as skin colour made Nina Simone, Mohammed Ali and Malcolm X, among others, connect their own aspirations to decolonisation movements in India, Liberia, Ghana, Vietnam, South Africa and Palestine. Martin Luther King absorbed from Gandhi not only the tactic of non-violent protest but also a comprehensive critique of modern imperialism. ‘The Black revolution,’ he argued, much to the dismay of his white liberal supporters, ‘is much more than a struggle for the rights of Negroes.’

Compared to these internationalist thinkers, partisans of the second black president, who happen to be the most influential writers and journalists in the US, have provincialised their aspiration for a just society. They have neatly separated it from opposition to an imperial dispensation that incarcerates and deports millions of people each year – disproportionately people of colour – and routinely exercises its right to assault and despoil other countries and murder and torture their citizens. Perceptive about the structural violence of the new Jim Crow, Coates has little to say about its manifestation in the new world order. For all his searing corroboration of racial stigma in America, he has yet to make a connection as vital and powerful as the one that MLK detected in his disillusioned last days between the American devastation of Vietnam and ‘the evils that are rooted deeply in the whole structure of our society’. He has so far considered only one of what King identified as ‘the giant American triplets of racism, extreme materialism and militarism’ – the ‘inter-related flaws’ that turned American society into a ‘burning house’ for the blacks trying to integrate into it. And in Coates’s worldview even race, despite his formidable authority of personal witness, rarely transcends a rancorously polarised American politics of racial division, in which the world’s most powerful man appears to have been hounded for eight years by unreconstructed American racists. ‘My President Was Black’, a 17,000-word profile in the Atlantic, is remarkable for its missing interrogations of the black president for his killings by drones, despoilation of Libya, Yemen and Somalia, mass deportations, and cravenness before the titans of finance who ruined millions of black as well as white lives. Coates has been accused of mystifying race and of ‘essentialising’ whiteness. Nowhere, however, does his view of racial identity seem as static as in his critical tenderness for a black member of the 1 per cent.

[manleycollins]

Journal Entry #29 - Let's Talk About The Elephants....Schizophrenia, Bipolar Disorder, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, Anxiety, and Depression....What Happened During the Process? And my visions?

JOURNAL ENTRY #29 Name: Manley M Collins Social Security Number: 5 7 9 - * * - 6 5 4 1 Date of Birth: 06/21 Place of Birth: Washington, District of Columbia Country of Birth: United States of America

Date: January 1, 2020

TOPIC: Let's Talk About The Elephants....Schizophrenia, Bipolar Disorder, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, Anxiety, and Depression....What Happened During the Process? And my visions?

DEPARTMENT: United States Department of Justice DEPARTMENT: United States Department of Education DEPARTMENT: United States Department of Health DEPARTMENT: United States Department of Transportation DEPARTMENT: United States Department of Labor

Reality has set in and subsided. Life can make someone decide on some tough choices.

Now, that I have spoken with the United States Department of Justice and United States Department of Defense, I am worthless now since my clearance is permanently removed and it is frown upon if anyone tries to fix it.

So, this post is the real talk about what truly transpired during the 10 year mental illness phase - crazy suppression.  Up2Us Sports, DCPS, CNCS/AmeriCorps, and TeensRunDC, you were let off the hook because I am focusing more on my move than actually pursuing any additional civil suits/lawsuits and it is not worth it for a $2200 education award. Yamaha and Coleman PowerSports, I not pursuing you for $1800 dollars.  South Carolina State University never produced a US president, DeVry/Keller definitely never produced a US president or any type of politician, and University of Phoenix never produced any politician.  I played the Education Lottery and only won up to $50 dollars.  I did lawsuits and got nothing even though harm and hurt was done.  Homeless people have disability checks, veteran checks, pension checks, and other types of government checks.  I gave money away and got nothing in sense of something that could be of value.  Mother's death provided $1500 dollars because my stepfather/her husband decided to share with the kids.  Biological father's death estate situation is totally unknown and I am moving on.  My most precious stuff got taken away and nothing returned.  My family, friends, and certain communities proved that they were nothing and I will be nothing in the United States of America.  So I literally have the hardest life, I have to work for every penny and use it wisely.  After analyzing my biological father's FaceBook profile, I literally saw everything about what life did to him and had so much real estate that no one wanted....and if we were not estranged or had animosity toward each other...I had the power and knowledge to run everything from Texas while living elsewhere.  Yes, family I am the one who sent notification to FaceBook to memorialize his profile.  I am asking Paris, France or Europe in general get me there....please get me there.

This is my plan. Letting Go: Washington, DC Up Next: South Carolina Researching: Massachusetts Practicing French culture: Canada Patiently Waiting to Begin New Venture: France (the other red, white and blue) and do everything all over again in a different country and different language.

First, around 2006, life directed me to start researching panic attacks and anxiety because while in Chicago I was very unhappy or depressed about a new city I did not know.  I was listening to Missy Elliot's Moving On and had the longest one to two hour crying session that tears could literally fill a water pail. I was moving back to Washington, DC.  I did not know the reason why, but I guess life saw something coming.  Then in 2007 after my trip to Italy and Aruba and doing espressos, chocolate and alcohol, which never affected me before. No family member or anyone that had the condition did not warn me about what happens.  The Atlanta home in Tucker, GA was for my love Monica, Philip, and me, and the kids we discussed having.  At work at the US Department of Defense in Crystal City, I was working and something started happening while sitting at my desk.  It was a calamity of emotions, deep suppression of being assaulted at work, stress of buying a new $600,000 DC home out of anger that the Atlanta $350,000 new home did not listen to my inspector's requests, and my brain all of suddened felt like it flipped. I calmly left work, but it was a scary thing. I was screaming and yelling out of my Ford Expedition at signal stop lights or traffic. I was driving through DC streets afraid to head back to my house in Fort Lincoln/Woodridge and went to my grandparents home in Petworth. Oh my God, my grandparents tried to calm me down, but I was screaming and yelling and they were telling me drink water, drink water.  I was scared.  My grandfather took me to Providence hospital and they initially confirmed it was anxiety.  I was so ready to run from the hospital.  So I called work and told them, 'I quit', but I got medicine to calm me down.  It happened on a Wednesday or Thursday because I had time to recover. I did return to work the following Monday, but it was deeply quiet.  I talked to the managers about the hit, but it seems for the remaining of my contract work I hardly could not do anything but have conversations while breaking down in tears.  My contract ended in December 2007 and Northrup Grumman never did turn me permanent after I told them what Karl Kawano (a Hawaiian US Marine) did and everyone else (Ivory Banks served in US Navy and her husband - Mr. Donnie Banks, Mogana served in US Army, Chris served in US Marines, Ethan - an asian dude, a civilian India dude) defended his actions on assaulting me in the chest because I said, "Hello." in the hallway right outside the SCIF next to the elevators.  I did called 911, but they did not come out because I was not injured.  They all said and believed I was crazy because I was attempting to connect with them on creating a professional relationship based on various topics.  At the same time, I did not pay enough attention to politics and the news.  The United States was heading into an economic downturn.  I could not find another job or contract after December 2007 so which lead to losing my 3222 Theodore R Hagans Dr NE home to foreclosure and all my stuff in PODS New Jersey thinking I was going to New York. For 3222 Theodore R Hagans Dr NE and I am still the first owner, the one who designed the house, and still use the address.  I tried to rent it out, but I was not marketing fast enough.  I went on a date with one of the Speed sisters, thought about the date hard, and then wrote a long, crazy detailed email about marriage, having kids, etc, from one of America's pressures to project a certain image. I tremendously had hard flashbacks on my previous relationships, such as loving Monica and kissing Kim.

In 2008, another whirlwind of losing control came and it was big. I did go to New York and stayed with Jewish guy in Harlem for a month, but my mind said return back to Washington, DC to 3222 DC home.  I was getting treatment through DC Department of Mental Health on K Street NE, Kaiser Permanente when it was on North Capitol St NE, George Washington University Hospital and Washington Hospital Center.  Something was happening physically, my body worked out so much mentally and physically, it said rest.  I loss lots of time in resting.  My largest rest period was sleeping for a full week. I use the medicine Klonopin and I fell asleep on Monday, did have intermittent wake ups to eat, drink and bathroom breaks, did not come back to norm until the following Sunday.  During that rest period, my visions especially when I thought I open my eyes and could not see anything, I saw wars, heaven, hell, earth, the universe, the entire bible, and the foundation structure my mother brought me up on.  It was a scary feeling because I tried to wake up and open my eyes, but when I thought I opened them, the vision is all I saw...nothing of today's reality.  I experienced a serious loss of communication.  I did bring my friends, and some family members to see the home. I met the neighbors.  For some odd reason, my mind or it was injected thought go to New York. Mind you, my Ford Expedition is broken down in 3222 DC home garage, I had no job, and no money. Guess what my body did, it started the path of walking Route 1, it was a cool fall week around 60s...I was only drinking water. I only had a short sleeve t-shirt, abercrombie pants tie with shoe string, no underwear, and shoes without laces.  I kept doing number 1 inside and outside my pants.  I never had to do number 2.  I loss track of time while walking Route 1.  I remember WMATA bus did give me a ride up to Laurel.  I just kept walking and no rest and the street signs kept saying Washington Blvd/Baltimore Ave.  I did stop to a Goodwill Thrift store asking for a coat. Thank you Goodwill for the coat.  It became night and I saw the beaming glow of Baltimore, but mind said, 'It was hell.'  I diverted and headed onto the Interstate 695 trying to find Interstate 95 to New York.  I got on the Interstate and it plenty of back and forth. A guy did stop and asked me where I was going. I just kept jumping in and out of his SUV, and not saying nothing...the I saw a vision of 'crack and cocaine' if I rode with him. I got out. I kept walking. Someone called 911 while I was walking and ask if I needed help. I ran on the opposite side of traffic because a thought of suicide came to mind. I never thought of suicide or hurting myself ever. But everyone stopped, looked, and got out and held me down until an ambulance came.  They kept asking me my name since I did not have any identification or money on me.  My mind kept saying give another name, but nothing came out, I thought about saying Kenneth.  Another push of the entire Library of Congress came through me.  I went to MedStar Harbor / Franklin Medical Center Hospital in Baltimore, MD, and it was happening at the time of voting and the Presidential Election because that was on television (Obama's re-election moment).  MedStar Harbor Hospital / Franklin Medical Center confirmed I had schizophrenia and depression.  People were talking to me, but I could not say a thing. They did a MRI and inserted dye into my brain for anything wrong.  Nothing was abnormal. They did have strapped to the bed because the yelling and screaming returned.  After a week at MedStar Harbor / Franklin Medical Center Hospital, they sent me to Sheppard-Pratt Psychiatric Ward. It was definite different. I got further needed rest. However, the nurses, case worker, and doctors did find out who I was and started me on Eli Lilly's Zyprexa 20mg and Celexa 20mg. I was slow and drowsy as heck and can only do one task for the day.  My daddy (not my biological father) and his wife came and got me. I stayed with them in Upper Marlboro, MD and yes, they did get the funk of homelessness because the medicine knocked me out so hard I could not bathe as I normally do or change clothes as often.  After DC Mental Health Dept, Kaiser, and MedStar Washington Hospital Center treatment plans and reducing the medicine, my final psychiatrist stated I needed to ween off the medication.  He did not say why, but I guess the medication had some after effects.  I applied for Social Security Disability and SSI, and was denied because of age, education, work experience, and illness not severe enough.

In 2010, I recovered and back to life living independently again and moved back to Washington, DC in an apartment and working for US Department of Transportation.

In 2012, I moved to Connecticut for United Technologies - Pratt and Whitney opportunities. I got an apartment and then the company I was with was not to be trusted because the work was only for six months and my apartment lease was a year.  Infotech Enterprises (now Cyient) stated it was a year contract.  So life threw me for a loop.  I had to think fast so I moved to New York City, Manhattan, Chelsea area. Yes, I was living out of my Mercedes-Benz vehicle along with hotels, motels, and rented a room in Connecticut.  At the same time, I was taking my medicine at night.  However, with New York, so much was going on and so fast, I kept up, but I became mentally sick/ill when my work ended and no more money came.  I had to think fast.  My vision with New York and Connecticut was that I was a real Superman. I felt big, so powerful, like a Greek god, so affluent, and heavy spender thinking I was on top of my game and another job will come.  I went from working out at Planet Fitness to the luxurious Equinox gyms.  I was running and competing with teams.  It was New York...nobody can compete. One evening in my sleep when all the voices in my head were swirling at a minimum, a large heavy voice said - Harvey, Illinois.  Since the Mercedes-Benz failed emissions and I was out of work, I could not take the car or afford the payments anymore and car was repossessed, and I told all the MB USA headquarters and dealers that touched that car what a very bad experience that car and I had.  In New York, you saw everything people giving, people taking, people in the nude, people dealing drugs, people drinking, people smoking, professional people who were homeless but was able to have new attire/underwear on a consistent basis, people in fashion, LGBTQ community, visitors/tourists, accidents, horns blaring, cops everywhere, filming movies/videos, festivals, parades, people yelling/arguing, kids all over the place, etc.  My brain was processing it all.  Since I made a decision not to take the car with me to Illinois to get to know my biological father's family, so as a part of illness, I had to physically toss some items that were true memorabilia and all my textbooks purchased from University of Phoenix in Connecticut's recycling and trash center.  Someone caught me tossing the books and stated there was a stand or section I could donate the books.  I lost some more precious stuff.  So I bought a large army bag, Amtrak ticket, Armani bag, and TCS backpack, and headed to Illinois via Washington, DC.  I did not tell the biological father's family I was coming...something indicated to me to see if they even accept me as family as I never lived with any of them.

In 2015, it was one hell of a year plus 2016 as hell went on. The Amtrak ride and community was tough. It was hard to sleep. I got there to Chicago. I made some calls. The first thing came out of everyone's mouth, "You did not tell us you were coming." I stayed still for a couple days at an aunt's house. I started doing paperwork and doing the stuff I did everywhere else.  I even went back to Downtown Chicago and spent time in an old neighborhood.  I started looking for work. I was still on my medications, but I was weening off. I felt very different and mentally ill.  My medication was doing something different at a reduced dosage of 10mg. A good friend of mine was working and living in Kenosha, Wisconsin, and I was the godfather to her daughter.  I applied to Amazon and got the job, but I stayed with her for a little while and could not stay because my friend (she) was going through professional job changes.  I got the job a Moaz Vegetarian at Fashion Outlets of Chicago (Rosemont Mall).  It was good and fun. I was taking the storage drives of information and data, and sending the photos, resumes, and stuff I was hoarding since 1999, when the invention of the digital cameras and camera phones started taking place.  I sent back every picture to my friends, my biological father's family, my Nelson family, my maternal mother's family, and did not make it send New Jersey back the photos. I sent my resumes to all the churches I attended in South Carolina, Georgia, and Washington, DC.  And at the mall while working at Moaz, I had the test to see if I still had mental illness.  So someone brought me some Lindt chocolate, and it tasted so good. I went started eating the chocolate, and limited intake of caffeine while on the medication once a week.  Oh my god, life and everyone I sent information too sent back the largest anxiety and hurt, I ever felt.  The severe illness started March 27, 2016, then the severe onset happened Sunday, April 3, 2016 and lasted until April 10, 2016. The visions this time came pushing all the technology, such as facebook images, all the photos images, all my passwords, all my usernames, all superstitions, all the laws, whitman walker's we see you (I never knew the slogan), etc. I was sitting, nodding in and out of consciousness at various Starbucks, and Barnes and Noble bookstores, and I felt the power of the Catholics doing an exorcism of pulling my soul away from my body...and saying he is ready because the name of Cross schools came through a different way.  The cops asked me if I murdered someone. I told them, "No." and my mind started racing again. Another suicide thought was being pushed to jump off N Wells Street bridge into the river...and I was literally standing at the edge of the bridge and looking at the water...later my mind returned me back to N State St bridge...again staring at the water preparing to jump.  The flashback I heard as a kid was to my cousins Thurl, Marcus, and Arnold's father nicknamed Orange's story of jumping off Cross/Pineville bridge and drowning.  At the library, I was nodding off hard and people were circling me to take my things.  I was running up and down every street and block from Roosevelt and S. Clark St all the way to N Halsted St and W Fullerton Ave.  Time was lost....night and day happened three times in one setting while riding the bus.  Communication was lost because phone had all these options I did not remember turning on.  The voices I heard was every single person from facebook, google, yahoo, all my families, all my friends, former colleagues, former classmates, Barack Obama, and the negative voices, such as I killed my mother by thoughts or childbirth, and then came the heavy voice at the end - Washington.  My mind was racing so fast that I was running into things.  I was crossing the streets while sleeping wide awake. Then a heavyset of reality aches, pains, and raw emotions fell upon me like I was about to be a cripple. Northwestern, Rush, and University of Illinois nursed me back to health, but confirmed my mental illness (schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, anxiety, and depression) came directly from the family and all biological connections.  I applied for Social Security Disability and SSI again - I was denied because of age, education, and work experience - my illness was not severe enough.  Then, when all was settle and done, a cartoon repeatedly kept playing in my head with Lincoln and Washington playing ball like we were kids.  April 3, 2016 is a date I will forever remember and stress to anyone I am not speaking to like I did before.  I became a full fledged, non-caring adult like everyone else in the world.  On and after April 3, 2016, I do not care about money, bills, any responsibilities, materialistic things, people, etc.  If I am not interacting with you like I did before, I am combination of mother and father, but I am not either of them so do not expect what they did to you from me!  Both mother and father has passed away, I am living for me, I am taking care of me.  All decisions and blame stated I was the one to create the loss, I was the one that made people angry, I was the one that did the mistake, I was the one that caused all this, so I will be the one to move forward to a life I want and need.  Yes, I own up to it and accept it.  It will never happen again like this for the remainder of my life with the exception of doing it all again in Europe.  Again, harder flashbacks happened regarding my previous relationships, again loving Monica hard and other girls that I fell for. I just never returned back to Atlanta.

In 2016, I returned back to Washington, DC acting like nothing happened. I applied for Social Security Disability and SSI again - and denied because of age, education, and work experience.  I went back to work at the Pentagon, they invited me to work and within two weeks assaulted me a 2nd and 3rd time assuming the same result. I told this time and they took my clearance.  I quit. The lawsuit case went further this time than the first.  However, I did not get anything money wise or job wise, they did not fix my clearance, and here are the published files for anyone who have been assaulted by a military person or civilian contractor.  Make sure you file under the Federal Claims Tort Act (you have to bring it up administratively through the US Dept of Defense before pursuing a civil suit).  These are the files and links to the documents.  Good luck to the next person or next generations.  I met John, 77 years of age from Massachusetts, from my Washington Hospital Center Intensive Outpatient Therapy and he showed me I will be okay by myself as long as I have that one friend by my side and continue to take care of myself.  The remaining crazy behavior I am left with is talking to myself or outloud quietly with mannerisms.  I did admit to 9-1-1 about wanting to kill someone for upsetting my safe space, and sent MPD an email about someone murdering someone on a particular street.

In 2019, after one thousand plus (1000+) sex adventures and partners, the sex machine (me) had to pause the sexual activity June 2019 because New York, Atlanta, District of Columbia, Connecticut, New England, that unnamed city starts with "C", Midwest, and Maryland were sending people - two and three partners a week.  Thanks Atlanta, Georgia for my paid, private sex worker days (undercover as a message therapist) - I was my own pimp.  Yes, I thank the good Lord the ability to use all my blessed body parts to ensure every sexual or non-sexual partner have a happy ending.  My job for adults over age 18 to make you nutt (necessary) or feel my nutt (not necessary).  Yes, the mental illness medication at a higher dosage did slow down the activity and I played with Cialis and Levitra, but I really did not need Cialis and Levitra because it gave me a headache at any dosage and my penis hard for days close to a week.  I was happy with my natural erections.  Yes, if I stayed a paid sex worker I could have been a millionaire by now, but life did not want me to make money that way including for all the rules and laws I was breaking.  I never pay for sex, but I will accept any complimentary funds or tips for my sexual actions.  However, those humans showing their blessed goodies in good way on a stage or pole, I will be the first to step up to place and give those dollar(s) where it will be happy and get my feel of those parts.  Another part of mental illness and before technology, I was actually keeping track of each and every partner details just so I could track back any possible STDs, then technology came and I tracked them in notepad and outlook personal information manager, then life stated I did not need to keep track of anything while I kept testing myself and taking care of myself.  Again, for any relationship partner, I never cheated on you, all my sexual experiences and energy went directly to you when the decision to become monogamous, and the minute I left or you left the relationship I went back to my old ways.

--------------------------------------------

I have finally graduated from the University of Phoenix with a Doctor of Management.  Yes, I am Dr. Collins.  I have a hardcopy of my work published by ProQuest, copyrighted by me on record at the United States Copyright Office, and stored at Library of Congress.  I did get my diploma in the mail and has been shown in previous post.

My celebration is small. If anyone who is not a doctor and knew me before I was a doctor calls me doctor, I will throw every fruit and vegetable to you and save the watermelon for last...ROTFL...Keeping it 100!  I am still Manley or Marvell.

Law Schools for 2019-2020 Admissions Cycle Albany Law School - Applied - Transmitted Sent Boston College Law School - Applied - Transmitted Sent Charleston School of Law - Applied - Transmitted Sent Columbia University School of Law - Applied - Transmitted Sent Harvard Law School - Applied - Transmitted Sent University of South Carolina School of Law - Applied - Transmitted Sent Stanford University Law School - Applied - Transmitted Sent Yale Law School - Applied - Transmitted Sent University of Toronto Faculty of Law Osgoode Hall Law School, York University

Student loans fiasco.  I am graduating with $130K in student loans with University of Phoenix has $85K of it, but I had suspect the University was going through something with so many campuses closing and downsizing.  I was on track to do a civil lawsuit in Arizona (superior/circuit and federal court), and make available a class action suit for time spent and stress.  However, God worked in mysterious ways....I give credit to the Federal Trade Commission, NBCNews, and Twan (a South Carolina friend) for letting me know University of Phoenix has to cancel student loan debt from students enrolled from 2012 to 2016.  Since I was a student enrolled from 2011 to 2019, we are keeping fingers crossed, hair crossed, legs crossed and whole lot of prayers to see the outcome.  University of Phoenix does not have a career center or career advisors so I am fishing on my own to find some type of job that can validate the doctoral degree.  I have no employment at this time.  This is the response I got from University of Phoenix Student Financial Services, "The settlement with the FTC only applies to outstanding invoices with the University of Phoenix for students that enrolled between 10/1/2012 - 12/31/2016. There is no loan forgiveness included in that settlement. Since there is no balance due on the account at this time your account will not be impacted by this settlement."

[albstone94]

Hard Money and Real Estate-A New York Story

A vintage cartoon (from the New Yorker?) has a bunch of New York people at a cocktail party, and the balloon for each of them simply says “Real Estate.” NY Prime Holding LLC v Nationstar Mtge., LLC  2019 NY Slip Op 30857(U)  March 27, 2019  Supreme Court, New York County  Docket Number: 157879/2018 Judge: John J. Kelley  is the story of a Harlem townhouse passed around in a game of musical real estate parcels.  A foreclosure action is filed on the very last day possible and ends the first round of the game.  The second round starts with a Judiciary Law § 487 claim.

“On October 8, 2008, Badrul Islam (hereinafter Badrul) purchased real property located at 280 West 127th Street in Manhattan (the property) from Jason Hutto Franklin and Jermaine Hutto. On that date, Badrul gave a mortgage on the property to Golden First Mortgage Corp. (GFMC) in consideration of a $972,000 loan. GFMC designated Mortgage Electronic Recording Systems, Inc. (MERS), as its nominee. Badrul allegedly defaulted in the repayment of the mortgage loan. On October 29, 2009, Federal National Mortgage Association (hereinafter Fannie Mae) commenced a foreclosure action (hereinafter the 2009 foreclosure action) against Badrul, Franklin, and Hutto, among others, in the Supreme Court, New York County, under Index No. 115280/09. MERS, however, did not transfer or assign the mortgage and underlying promissory note to Fannie Mae until June 5, 2010. By order dated October 3, 2010, the Supreme Court (Schlesinger, J.) denied Fannie Mae’s motion for summary judgment on the complaint in the 2009 foreclosure action, without prejudice to renewal upon proper papers showing that it had standing to prosecute the action.

Over the next several years, ownership of the property was transferred by deed on numerous occasions. On October 5, 2012, Badrul deeded the property to K&S Holding Trading Corp. On December 13, 2012, K&S Holding Trading Corp. deeded the property to Kitty Hawk Holdings, LLC. On March 13, 2014, Kitty Hawk Holdings, LLC, deeded the property to Jericho NY Prime Holding, LLC. On April 17, 2014, Jericho NY Prime Holding, LLC, deeded the property to the plaintiff, NYPH. During that period of time, the mortgage given by Badrul, then held by Fannie Mae, remained unsatisfied and remained a mortgage of record.

By order dated April 2, 2015, the Supreme Court (Schlesinger, J.) denied Fannie Mae’s renewed motion for summary judgment on the complaint in the 2009 foreclosure action, and dismissed the complaint in that action, without prejudice.

Inasmuch as the 2009 foreclosure action was commenced on October 29, 2009, thus accelerating Badrul’s obligations under the note and mortgage, Fannie Mae or its assignee had six years from that date, or until October 29, 2015, to recommence an action to foreclose on the subject mortgage. Thereafter, any person with an interest in the mortgaged property could maintain an action to cancel the mortgage (see generally RPAPL 1501 [4]; Milone v US Bank Natl. Assn., 164 AD3d 145, 156 [2d Dept 2018]; Mizrahi v US Bank, Natl. Assn., 156 AD3d 617[2d Dept 2017]; NMNT Realty Corp. v Knoxville 2012 Trust, 151 AD3d 1068, 1069-1070 [2d Dept 2017]). On October 27, 2015, Fannie Mae assigned the mortgage and note to the defendant Nationstar. On October 29, 2015, Nationstar, represented by the defendant law firm SOB, commenced a new foreclosure in the Supreme Court, New York County, under Index No. 452981 /15 (hereinafter the 2015 foreclosure action), naming NYPH and Badrul as defendants. ”

“In the meantime, on August 23, 2018, NYPH commenced the instant action to recover against SOB for violation of Judiciary Law § 487, against SOB, Nationstar, Provest, Oliver, Zienkowicz, and a person named Baharul Islam (Baharul) to recover for abuse of process and fraud, and for a declaration that the judgment entered in the 2015 foreclosure action is null and void. The gravamen of NYPH’s complaint is that Nationstar and SOB, as its attorneys, knew that Badrul did not live on Paulding Avenue in the Bronx, and that they purposely served the summons and complaint in the 2015 foreclosure action upon Baharul, an unrelated person with a similar name who did reside there. NYPH asserts that this service was a ruse to trick it and the court into believing that service had been made upon the correct person at the correct address, and that the defendants lied in order to secure a default judgment against Badrul, who actually never received notice of that action in time to defend it. NYPH thus contends that the judgment in the 2015 foreclosure action was secured by fraud and abuse of process, and that it has been damaged by virtue of being divested of its ownership interest in the property. ”

“The complaint fails to state a cause of action because it constitutes an improper collateral attack upon the judgment entered in the 2015 foreclosure action. Any claim that the judgment of foreclosure was obtained by fraud must be made the subject of a motion to vacate the judgment in that action, pursuant to CPLR 5015(a)(3), on the ground that it was secured by extrinsic fraud (see Country Wide Home Loans, Inc. v Harris, 136 AD3d 570 [1st Dept 2016) [judgment properly vacated where mortgagee knew that nonparty to foreclosure action had an interest in subject property, yet purposefully refused to name or join him in action]). “The remedy for fraud allegedly committed during the course of a legal proceeding must be exercised in that lawsuit by moving to vacate the civil judgment (CPLR 5015[a][3]), and not by another plenary action collaterally attacking that judgment” (St. Clement v Londa, 8 AD3d 89, 90 [1st Dept 2004); see Kai Lin v Department of Dentistry, Univ. of Rochester Med. Ctr., 120 AD3d 932 [4th Dept 2014); Parker & Waichman v Napoli, 29 AD3d 396, 399 [1st Dept 2006); Vinokur v Penny Lane Owners Corp., 269 AD2d 226 [1st Dept 2000)).

This rule applies to claims under Judiciary Law§ 487 as well. In Yalkowsky v Century Apts. Assocs. (215 AD2d 214, 215 [1st Dept 1995)), the Court dismissed a cause of action against an attorney who allegedly lied to the Civil Court to obtain a judgment in a landlord-tenant dispute that defeated a tenant’s constructive eviction defense. The Court explained that, even if it could be proven that the landlord’s attorney lied to the Civil Court, the “plaintiff’s remedy lies exclusively in that lawsuit itself, i.e., by moving pursuant to CPLR 5015 to vacate the civil judgment due to its fraudulent procurement, not a second plenary action collaterally attacking the judgment in the original action”” (id.; see Crouse v McVickar, 207 NY 213, 217 [1912)). ”

  Hard Money and Real Estate-A New York Story