Tuesday, 18 April 2017

Taliban Tunnels and Why They are a Must if you are on the list of the US's Hgh Profile Targets


Ronald Reagan meets Afghan Mujahideen Commanders at the White House in 1985

The Taliban and the United states elite were once upon a time bed fellows or the best of mates, of sorts, so how, you may ask, did it come to the point where the US found it necesary to drop the mother of all bombs on their hideout?

They fell out, period. It's that simple.

The Taliban does not comprise burrowing mamals and here again, you might wonder why they took to life in tunnels dug into the ground? Again, the answer is simple. In a world where no part of the sky doesn't have a spy satellite hovering menacingly about, with hi-tech gadgets that can see through almost anything, tunnels dug deep into the ground are the best way of evading their prying eyes, and there's more.

Tunnels are a way of ensuring one does not just prevent being seen on a screen connected to an apparatus that can see through a wall or roof, avoiding being visible for the sake of it, but, once built properly, they can prevent those with the technology from using it to know the exact whereabouts of the person or persons they are looking for.

Depending on how intricately built a system of tunnels are, well thought out and formidable attempts to force one's way through the defences to the one being defended, the leader, can be foiled, otherwise the one being sought is allowed the time required to escape, using an exit that leads through another series of tunnels not under attack. They can thus, allow a fugitive to evade capture and if intelligence within the tunnels is good enough, it is possible to know the parts that are still safe to remain in right away.


Vietnamese tunnels during the Vietnam War

The areas can be certified safe because they are as of yet unknown or, by calculating the amount of time and effort in manpower and armament it took the intruders to reach a certain point in the tunnel system, some areas can be certified safe because they will allow the fugitive ample time to make it to safety if an intrusion appears headed that way.

But there is another thing that these tunnels do apart from just give the safe feeling to those who choose to dig them and hide away in them. This reality is best seen in one of the most common means of control that those who rule apply on those they rule, which is poisoning.

The fact they will go to extreme lengths to get poisons into the food chain of the poor tells us it is a very effective method of keeping them in chains, and the reason for this is in how poisons affect animal life.


Chemtrails over the skies of London UK

You see, even though there is no single time in life that any man will be 100% healthy, there is such a thing as optimum health. There is a big difference between how a man with optimum health copes in his environment compared to another whose system is inundated with poisons. Not only can poisonous substances adversely affect the functioning of the reasoning capacities of the poisoned, but they also drain the system of resources given the body engages in an effort to neutralize and evict the alien substances.

People being poisoned will as such find it harder to see their way out of the confines of poverty and any other kind of problematic situation compared to people who are not being poisoned. They will tend to be less inventive because their minds are not working as good, and being inventive is a must for one looking for gimmicks out of a bad situation.

How does this connect to the issue of the Taliban in tunnels? Well, it is not all technologies on prying satellites that only function to spot people hiding behind walls. Some of them, especially the microwave variant, and here we are speaking specific, highly penetrative frequencies, can be used to destroy tissue. In this, they can have the very same effect on the speculative capacities of an individual as poisons.


Artistic impression of a satellite firing a mcrowave laser also called Kinetic Weaponry

Picture yourself going to bed an intelligent being then waking up the next morning an utter idiot. This is what the US would want to happen to you as it makes controlling you easier. This is what spending nights deep underground prevents from happening to you.

Saying "good night" to their pals while deep underground, the Taliban are assured a good night's sleep, and they can wake up the next morning bright, as bright as ever, and you know they are going to add bright to everything they do as they go about their no good deeds. With the vinear of bright added to them, these deeds stand a better chance of making a difference now or later, no?

This, the US doesn't want. It wants to see the Taliban become such fools they will perpetually shoot self in the foot till they are no more.


Detonation of the "Mother of all Bombs" in Afghanistan last week

But then you may ask what dropping the mother of all bombs on an area known to have tunnels dug deep into the earth does that changes things. Why not just beg the Taliban to stick their knecks out so they can be hacked at?

Is is just a matter of pride on the part of the agressor super power?

It would appear from the resolve to use the biggest bomb in their arsenal that the tunnels in question have been dug really, really deep into the ground. The big bomb, then, is the only thing that stands a chance of destroying the system of tunnels by sheer use of the physics of force. The shock waves generated have to be enough to reach as deep into the ground as is needed to destroy the tunnels completely, or at least make them as unusable as will require more effort than can be summoned to rebuild.

But then how do we, the bystanders, get to know whether the effort was a success? The Taliban are not going to tell us, and if you followed the story of how one Osama Bin Laden got his head blasted then the remains dropped into the Indian Ocean because his killers thought his family members will freak out at the sight of the head and there will be no body viewing, and the US of A will get sued silly for allowing the mercenaries to target practice on poor Osama's head, never mind he was already dead when they were getting their balls off, then you know the US will also not tell us anything of use to this end, otherwise what they will divulge will be utter falsehood.

Best to just wait it out in your own personal tunnel and hope good news is all there is to expect to come from Afghanistan.

Monday, 10 April 2017

How Dead Doves Proved My Fears Right


A dead dove
 
Back in 1999, I spent 6 months writing a book I was sure would be a winner once complete. I told some of my friends that I was writing, without giving details of what it really was about.

Someone must have told somebody else till the wrong people came to know because, out of the blues, I started coming across one too many people eager to divulge the finer details of my work. As I walked through the streets, I heard strangers make remarks when I was within earshot that spoke of the stage I had reached in the story I was writing.

Those following the developments of my story closely, who took every opportunity to have me know they knew how far I had progressed with my work were obviously using under handed methods to know what was going on in the privacy of my home. I figured the only way they could have been privy to the finer details of an idea that was not digital yet, an idea being developed behind closed doors, was through break ins when nobody was around.

I started working on securing my home from such break ins, taking care to ensure not a single window frame was not so bolted it could not be removed, and where this was not possible I placed tape or whatever material I found suitable, in crucial spaces and places, then after making sure an intruder who went to the extent of dismantling the entire door with frame to enter the home (this is done sometimes) would disturb these pieces, I took pictures of the items and checked each time I returned home if there were changes.
I started doing the same at the entrance to the home. I chained the inside then placed a padlock on the chain that had to be bypassed to gain entry. I taped the padlock's keyhole over after locking it, including areas I knew objects could be inserted to force them open and, given patterns formed during the taping process that were different each time around, I took pictures of this and would check upon return whether there had been any changes which would indicate entry.

Soon hereafter, updates on the status of my story by total strangers on the streets stopped.
As soon as I satisfied myself that the project was finished, I printed it out then sent the manuscript to a publisher.

Very early the next morning I was woken up by loud noises outside my door. Before I could get up out of my bed, my door had been broken down and large, tall Dutch police officers stood in my flat reading me my rights.

They had come to arrest me for outstanding traffic violation offences even when they were already being handled by a lawyer who had assured me there was no risk of arrest as long as the procedure he had started was not concluded.

Had he lied to me? Had he betrayed me?

I was taken to a prison facility in the north of the country, in Groningen, where I was placed in a single cell with lou, a coffee machine and a telly.

The inside of Veenhuizen prison where I spent 5 months on a starvation ration before being transferred to another prison in the middle of the country
 
I settled into this new arrangement and immediately focussed my day to day efforts on getting out as soon as I could. I lived in rented accommodation and I had to see to it that arrangements were made to pay the rent otherwise I risked losing property.

We were locked up most of the time and I spent most of this time reading or watching television. One day, while tuned to a local Dutch channel, I watched an African author answering questions the host asked about a book he had just published.

When asked to give a few details about the book, I was dismayed to discover it was the same as my idea, to the very last detail. It is impossible that two Africans living in two different places had both written novels in four parts or four stories following the lives of men and women who lived through the slave trade, through successive generations into the present. I could not understand what was going on because for all intents and purposes, the African on the telly was not the author of the book under consideration. I was the author of that book and I was in prison while my intellectual property was getting usurped.

Was this the reason they had locked me up? So they could steal my work?

I tried to look at this from every angle I could but only this appeared to be the explanation of the timing of my arrest.

I surmised they had also feared the aftermath in which I would be empowered by the monies that my creation would generate, and, as people who had set it upon themselves to destroy my life covertly, the likelihood I would escape their evil clutches would be increased.

The decision to take away my liberty had been made way before I had completed what I had set about doing. They just waited for me to finish it before stepping in and putting the plan into effect.

I realised with this that the prison I had been sent to may have been prepared for my arrival. The possibility some guards and inmates were aware of the plan and there for me could not be discounted.
And I became afraid for my life.

From that day onwards, I spent long periods without food, afraid they would decide to take me out by poisoning. In the particular prison, food was usually brought in with the inmate's name on the tray. It was easy as such to deliver a ready made cocktail to a particular recipient.

I realised the worst I could do was make them aware I was not eating the hot meals brought to me because then they would change their attack strategy. I started flushing the food down the toilet. The cell window opened enough for chunks of food to also be thrown out. No need to worry because there were doves that sat on the wall fence that went round this side of the prison to eat it right away.

And so I starved myself, the only time I ate something being when cold meals were served. These foods came in plastic containers and were picked from a pile of packets on a trolley. None of the packages had a name on them. Chances a contaminated item would have been reserved for one inmate and delivered with accuracy were slim given the cold meals came in assortments and we, the prisoners, chose what we wanted, but even here I realised it would be wise to take care and avoid being predictable.

Cold meals comprised a half loaf of bread with some cheese, butter, a tin of beef, tinned fish or something else to eat the bread with, otherwise it was cold meals of rice, spaghetti or potatoes with one or other sauce carbohydrates and starches are consumed with, in supermarket packaging.

I continued like this for months, only getting a chance to gorge myself when we got our little pay for the work we did in the prison and were allowed to buy food in the prison's shop.

But even with the availability of the option to buy extra food in the prison shop, I would have lost a lot of weight had it not been for the fact guys who didn't like certain foods announced this and gave the food to others rather than threw it away. This was how I got that extra amount of food as neared the minimum that a man needed to consume per day.

Many a time in that prison I found myself wondering whether I was doing the right thing, especially at times when I was very hungry. I wondered whether I hadn't simply lost my mind, until one night, I heard feet rushing to and fro in the small yard between our windows and the wall fence.

Looking out, I noticed guards rushing to and fro between the brush and flowers that grew there, picking up what looked like dead birds, dead doves they were, and many, at that.

But how had so many died in one spot, at a single time.

I remembered that I had thrown food out the window that afternoon and if anything could get that many birds dead at one time, then it was poison, and the only source of that could have been my food.

There weren't that many prisoners with the habit of throwing food out the small gap in the window and, because we could all see the place the food fell to, I knew that I had been the only one who had thrown food out that afternoon. I was in fact the one who threw the most food out the window.

The haste with which the guards dashed to and fro to pick the birds spoke volumes of what had transpired there that day, and if the intention had been to clear the evidence before prisoners saw it then they failed because they did not know how audible their boots had been in our cells.

It was something about the design of the buildings that the sounds of feet on the turf outside the windows carried very far.

The next day as we all went out to get our daily ration of an hour of fresh air, no mention was made by any prisoner of the incident behind our cells the previous night. It was not discussed or even hinted at in any of the conversations I heard between prisoners.

I wondered whether I had been the only one who had seen the event but then again that was impossible. It happened way before the time most people are asleep and the boots had made such a noise nobody could have avoided looking out to see what the commotion was about.

Other than that, I noticed a difference between how prisoners normally behaved and the behaviour that day that suggested they knew, they had seen it. It was in the pace of their walk, how they turned their heads, the look in their eyes, in the way we looked at each other.

There was intense fear in some eyes, and in others you saw rage, while others showed sorrow. And there was more silence and solitude that day than any other I remembered.

I spent the rest of the hour we were allowed to get air in the prison ground trying to see in those eyes if some were aware that I had thrown food out the previous afternoon, whether some knew it was my food that had most probably poisoned the birds. And sometimes, I thought I did, but then again there was no way of being sure.

The one thing I became sure about is the fact I had been right all along. This place, this prison was a booby trap. Some people with power in Dutch society had planned to make the environment the last thing that I saw. I knew right there and then that walking out of the place alive was going to be a tough thing to do.

Wednesday, 29 March 2017

The Motivation for Activist Exhortations.


Malcolm X

To show how convinced Malcolm X was that he was doing the right thing, he gave an example of his own children, stating his belief even at the young age they realised the battle he was fighting was necessary, and that they would think lowly of him if he ran away from the fight because he would then expose his myopia and risked living to fight another day, while leaving his seed to fight the whole entire battle rather than part or non of it if he was brave enough to take the opportunity he had, to fight till the end keeping in mind success was assured.

Malcolm X understood he could not be held responsible for putting the lives of his own seed at risk as a result of his activities given their lives were independent of his and not directly at threat of harm from his hand. He knew they were automatically at risk because of a status given them at birth by the system they were born into. He was not, by his striving for freedom, negating his parental responsibilities but, to the contrary, taking them by the horn because he was doing something few other parents did for their seed apart from provide food and shelter for them, and he was doing this the only way that he could under the circumstances ... an activity with the potential to remove the status that was the number one threat to their well being.

He, unlike most parents, could not accept that it made sense to leave his children to take their chances in a world where they were disadvantaged enough as it was.

If there is one thing about slain activists, no matter the cause they were fighting that got them murdered or assassinated, it is the fact they were all adamant about their chosen path. They insisted on taking the course they knew led to an abrupt end, obviously convinced it was worth it.
JFK. Malcolm X considering his assassination a case of the hen coming home to roost was a misunderstanding of sorts. JFK's motivation was the same as that of the former ...

Some may question the judgement of these individuals and conclude they were wrong in thinking giving their life was worth it in the end. They have gauged the gains against the losses and concluded the cause in question is not worth sacrificing the particular life for.

On the other side are those who think it is. They are alright ... but not yet home until they have known a truth I will divulge further down.

This truth can better be arrived at by analysing then helping those who think it is not worth it understand it is in fact their judgement that ails them in arriving at this conclusion.

This requires going back to what I will for purposes of clarity term "the beginning".

The life of the human animal is complex. Whatever state we are in at any given moment, how free we are, how secure we are from harm by other humans, is a combo of different individual choice outcomes related to what path people chose to take to reach the status of the free.

To better understand this, we need to look at life choices as myriad and the best model that represents this better than any other is a race with a finishing line where humans start off as soon as they start seeking a coping strategy, the finishing line representing the time they find one.

Because choices of the course to take to the perfect coping strategy are myriad, and the strategies differ, let's imagine that instead of one finishing line, we have a myriad and so, when the start whistle is sounded, people rush off in different directions, choosing the one they feel will lead them to the desired coping strategy.

Models play a major role in the outcome of the race with the rich being influential in this usually because most people take it for granted wealth guarantees freedom and the rest that comes with it. The means the rich person who becomes their role model used to amass wealth are sought out, researched then emulated and propagated.


The late David Rockerfeller, one of the wealthiest men on earth while it lasted, is most definitely a role model for many

It is through this process we can go further to make the realisation how free, secure, etc. people are in society depends on the aggregate of choices of coping strategies within the same society, and, because there is such a thing in reality as a semblance of freedom, meaning people can believe they are free while in reality they are not, there also comes into play a reality related to this where we can speak of the "degree" to which members of a given society are free, but only with regards activities they can undertake because a state of freedom cannot be gauged.

We can look at this as a scale the center of which has an arrow pointing to a meter with "free" and "not free" on each end of the scale. When people who are not free, regardless they have the delusion they are free, outnumber those who are free, the scale will point this out very clearly.

The degree of freedom in that society will be tipped in favour of this group with the numbers of people who are free preventing that society from the extreme where the arrow points to the very end of the scale, in which case members of that society can be considered not free in an absolute sense.

Because our activists are prone to the rules of the same "race" and they have crossed the finishing line with their coping strategy fully developed, the things they can get away with depend on the degree to which members of that society are free, determining as well how long it takes before they walk into the wall demanding conformity where they will be forced to ask questions that include why they cannot be allowed to do that which they consider appropriate under the circumstances, if not belonging to same.

Realisation after another and the reality dawns it is about personalities and propensities, and this is the reason why they cannot be allowed to do what they want under the prevailing social conditions and it is this to which they react.

They fight for their rights primarily, and the fight is inevitably extended to other members of society when the realisation dawns being to a large extent inadvertently responsible for the few available freedoms, the success of the venture for total freedom depends on their participation.

Thus start the exhortations aimed at winning hearts and minds from the larger population while engaging in direct acts of assistance to the fallen, scheming, plotting, setting in motion conspiracies that have the increase in freedom as the ultimate objective.

The conscious (activists) eventually realise while at it that they can never be allowed to be who they are and crucially that, whatever they choose to do, their fate will not be wholly their fault. Their society will be as responsible for what happens to them as those who call the shots.


Martin Luther King Jr.

The abrupt outcome of their lives can only be prevented if the arrow was tipped in favour of the free.

They know this beforehand which is why their battle, the fight of the free, becomes not so much a preoccupation, but a means of assuring their personal survival, a way of assuring the survival of those who are like them now, and in future ... who will fall into the same trap if the current generation fails to win enough/the critical number of converts, if they do not convince enough people that the battle is also for their own good.

The conviction that should do the trick of gaining converts reads: treats and trinkets can only amount to status symbols that do not equal freedom, and all the rest of the goodies that come with the package.

Thursday, 16 March 2017

United States Patent 6506148 B2 Confirms Human Nervous System can be Manipulated Through Electromagnetic Fields from Monitors.

News just in confirms what targets of covert warfare, a group that ranges from whistleblowers to simple, law abiding citizens of many nations, all of them people who have never done anything worthy of the surveillance they are put under in order to monitor the course of the research, let alone torturous routines involved that destroy their health and personalities, making them pariahs in their communities, have been trying to tell the world for a while now.

It is possible to read the human mind and, using the same channels by which the reading is made possible, ie., monitors, that include the old innocuous Television monitor in your living room, or the computer monitor in your study or on your lap, it can be influenced enough to the point it is controllable.

A United States Patent 6506148 B2 filed by Hendricus G. Loos (Google), confirms the human nervous system can be manipulated through electromagnetic fields from monitors.

According to a publication on Google, he is the owner of the work. He filed the patent in June 2001, but it was published in January 2003.

You may have heard recently of Samsung discouraging people from talking sensitive matters in front of their televisions. This actually follows the disclosure the CIA used Samsung smart TVs to spy on people.

As the source article asks (xposed.news, the one important question we should be asking now is why is the mainstream media still silent on this issue? "This tells you that the end goal of the media is never to educate and raise awareness. It (mainstream media) is created and controlled by the elite to put us in the dark, so they can continue to profit from us".

Why I Think Vegetarianism Accepts but a Limited Part of the Whole that is Dietary


Child takes a better look at some bugs

My father was the first to voice disquiet over a preoccupation I developed as a child, the first to warn me that I had taken it to extremes that made the activity abnormal.

It was creatures, mostly small ones, that were central to this preoccupation, so much so I spent hours observing them, and it didn't matter which kinds. I would catch grasshoppers, little insects, birds, millipedes, whatever could be placed into a restrained space where they remained available for close scrutiny.

And I think it was at this point when I learnt to step into their sense of time.

According to my father, this was the point when I would lose my mind. Living, communicating with humans would be difficult from then on, placing me into the category of the mentally detached or mad.

Nothing of this came true. In fact, the very opposite is what has transpired in my life.

I have done an outstanding job of showing I am fitter than most at a whole lot of those activities that can be considered typically human, with a whole string of achievements to bear witness to this fact.

For example, I showed a more than average uptake in the difficult subjects in school.

There was even a time in my childhood years that I parttook in a physics competition in which the requirement was that we go to a place where something technical was taking place, for instance a telecommunications installation, get an engineer working on the project to explain how things worked, understand as much of the lecture as possible to be able to explain it to judges and, if possible, make a model of the installation.

Best if we could somehow create a working model.

I chose for my project the nation's railway network with emphasis on how trains are tracked and how stop lights at railway crossings are engaged. After being given a tour by an engineer there, I built a working model of the main component in the devices that regulated the switches involved, the relay.

Central to the operation of the relay is the electromagnet, and so I didn't see much preventing me from including all machines that used the electromagnet to function in my project.

I built a working model of an electromagnetic motor and proudly showed it off to the judges alongside a working relay, a model train that ran on a tiny railway with names of stations, a switchboard with the same stations next to lights that lit up when the train was at the location so that controllers could monitor its location. I also sketched a small road that crossed the railway line and set up lights that warned when there was a train approaching.

Well, I won the regional and provincial titles. I came first, and though our country was developing, the standard I brought to the competition would have done well in developed climes, I surmise, and if there is any doubting the judging standards, then FYI the judges at the competitions happened to be westerners and indian secondary school teachers.

So much for going out of my way to prove I am a sane, functional human being, at the risk of sounding like I am still just a geek, racially biased, even if by way of academic achievement, which would by most estimates represent overkill, or bragging.

But I digress.

I think this early start in my observation of small creatures has allowed me to know much more about them than would otherwise be possible had I not learnt to step into their sense of time, as such allow me to read their body language more effectively.

All this, in turn, has made me a master at discerning hidden facts about us humans and our bond to other mammals.

I have kept parrots, and observed that they also do much of that which would be considered the preserve of developed, highly evolved humans. They can laugh, and this is not observable through their beak, it is too hard to warp, but through their eyes. They can mock as well and find fun in so doing.

I once introduced a smaller bird into a cage filled with parrots and, to my dismay, whenever it went towards the food and water, it got mocked by way of deliberate and repeated toppling over. The parrots used their beaks to lift it by the leg, causing the small bird to trip, and I started considering putting it into a separate cage for fear they would move on from mere mocking to harming, until something else considered the preserve of human beings started happening.

Firstly, I noticed that each time the little bird fell, its body language spoke of embarrassment and the parrots' was all mirth. But soon, the tiny bird started standing its ground. It would fall but pick itself up and confront the parrots in a manner that made getting hold of a leg difficult. It was standing up for itself, as it were, eventually causing the offending parrots to back off.

And there is more.

I lived with people who kept broiler chickens. Because I do not have the heart, each time they started slaughtering them I would make myself scarce. One day I returned earlier than I normally would to find the slaughter in full swing, only to learn that in the midst of such an event, some chickens, especially the ones being passed by because they are not big enough yet, start defending the others. They can get vicious while at this too, biting at the feet of human intruders.

This particular case, this particular time, I observed that the protecting chicken appeared to be distraught as well. May just be me but the creature appeared to be shedding tears. And there was this unmistakable smell of tears in the air.

Not one to worry about being considered insane, I concluded an activity considered the preserve of humans also occurs in these lesser mammals, and it is not just in chickens, so my experience goes.

Either there was something nearby fooling my nose into smelling tears or the birds were really crying. That this same smell would repeat when my cat cornered and played with a mouse for hours, before finally eating it, sealed the case for me.

My nose could not be the thing that was being fooled here.

These observations have enabled me to make the realisation there is no interdependence between consciousness and brain size, that the size of the brain only points out the amount of work the brains have to do.

Creatures like human beings that do much more have bigger brains to cope, while others, such as apes, that will never require to possess the balance required to pass a thread through the eye of a needle, have the smaller brains to go with this.

Both, however, will posses a consciousness of their surroundings that is as adept at being awake as the other. You see, there is such a thing as sight, and if the wholeness of the viewed image represented the wholeness of consciousness itself, then what of the known fact an image seen by human eyes is never superior to that which a dog's eyes generates?

This is how consciousness works, and the entity within a creature's mind that generates it is small enough to fit inside the head of the tiniest of microscopic insects that displays consciousness of its environment and responds to stimuli as is required to survive and breed under the various circumstances that may arise.

This entity isn't bigger in humans because they are physically capable of much more.

Relative intelligence is a concept that deals with those capabilities that are controlled by growths to the mass of meat in the head called brain matter, not raw consciousness itself that is a generated entity that possesses its own intelligence.

And now that we know so much about other mammals, is it not regrettable that we cause them such suffering? Why, oh why do we make our own kind suffer so much, and eat them after the torture, too?

The issue here, again as far as my rationalisation go, is evolution, in particular the separation made millions of years ago by mammals from plant life.

It is all rooted in survival, in this case a point in time when it must have become necessary for some plant life to move in order to live on.

We all must know that some rare plants can chew prey, meaning they possess a means of digesting what they chew, a stomach, thus, but then these specimens of plant life cannot be considered mobile because the movement from a hot place to a cool one, for instance, is impossible with roots dug into the earth providing the other bit of their sustenance.

In order to become free as a way of escaping the circumstances that portended demise, or chasing after food, the roots have to be removed from the earth and placed in a sack that can be carried along, a sack into which sustenance can be poured as the creature finds it.

As soon as this evolutional change is perfected, nothing prevents the mobile creature from placing its own kind into its food chain because, now, the nutrients it requires can only be found second hand, by consuming creatures getting their nutrients from the earth, and this obviously entails a digestive system capable of taking nutrients out of whole plants, and also of mobile creatures that are of the same kind.

Its all about what you find appetising, and vegetarianism accepts but a limited part of the whole that is dietary.

Saturday, 11 March 2017

What Being a Target for Life says about Those Running the Targeting Program

It has been a good ten years now that I have not gone to sleep in a bed that doesn't have around it shielding against directed energies, without wearing metal armour around my torso, and often with a metal cap around my head.

Surprising as it may seem, I am used to sleeping like this now.

From the very first days when I took to shields against directed energies, starting with a period of time when searches online took me to websites meant for those seeking protection from electromagnetic smog, to when I made the realisation the shielding offered here was too flimsy for my needs as a TI, till this very day, I am still busy with searches for better shields and the setting up of shields that I know make a difference.

Only when I sleep outside my home, on visits, do I sleep without shields around the sleeping space and, because my bedroom is a sci-fi area where I don't dare take ordinary women, unless they are also targets of covert warfare, if I am vsiting such a female friend, then I go there without the body armour.

It is a given that I will excuse myself in the middle of the night and head for home where I can be safer.

It is always the case the very next morning following these excursions into the wild, that I find that my sphincter muscles have lost much of their strength, so that I have to ensure I keep near and get to the men's room as fast as possible because I am less able to hold the liquids back. Also, my joints will be weaker than usual, so that my movements become wobbly.

A whole lot of other issues arise starting from the top to the bottom ... with my mind, then body, and I am reminded yet again how right I am to insist on sleeping with protection.

It goes without saying that if I had not been too keen on protecting myself during the vulnerable period of sleep especially, I would in most probability be incontinent and would definitely not be able to walk, let alone run. Worst of all, I would not be able to think as well as I do, and I would then not be able to make sense of what is going on in my life or share the experiences as well as I do.

But as things stand, I am still me, still a thorn in the eyes of those who decided to eliminate me by way of covert means. I am still able to shine, making it very clear as I do this the reason why they picked me out of many, then felt the best thing was to hand me in to the "global non-consensual experimentation project" through which nobody passes unscathed.

I have the health and strength that I enjoy to thank on the shields, moreso on the tirelessness they help me preserve so that I can seek the best out, put them up, improve and maintain them.

I remember nights spent working on my shields even after the day's activities would have dropped any ordinary man flat. I also remember someone I previously didn't think was involved with the project give a remark that gave this fact away. "You just don't know when to quit?" he said at a moment when he could only have been alluding to my tireless efforts to keep myself safe within shields.

"I am programmed to survive," I replied, "I cannot but give it my best shot. Giving up is allowing for my demise. I will eventually die, that's for sure, just like everybody else, but knowledge of this doesn't make me stop trying to live and, it's all automatic. I don't for once think this is what I am doing each time I have breakfast in the morning ... "

He just looked at me without saying a word. A perp.

But today, I find myself turning the question he asked in on those who have been on my case for over three decades now, with a different twist to it, though.

You see, it is a programmed or hardwired reality where I am concerned. Maintaining my life is the foremost religion, as it is every healthy, normal human being ... till my maker calls me back home.

I envisage myself still fighting to stay alive even in this period of the very end.

But what motivates my assailants to keep at it for so long? I know, the experiment goes on ... but there is always ample opportunity and time to call it off if it is not doing what it is supposed to be doing or it is backfiring on those who handed me in and, trust me, it is doing just this in my case, and in the cases of many other targets of covert warfare.

In which case the question that arises is whether my very survival is linked to theirs? Do they fear facing death if I live, alone, apart from them, as it was meant to be, or if I survive?

And here we have to think about nature.

Whatever this thing is that is going on between me and them is not natural, and it's not me living unnaturally, all semblances of this notwithstanding, but we can only leave time to make those living unnaturally realise they have stultified. They have, in the ultimate sense, become but problems for others, huge, human sized parasites weighing other humans down, and all of their actvities regarding, are as gratuitous as it gets.