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Episode 87 

Carol and Don's Highway Pastimes

By Don Croft <>
Nobvember 2, 2005

We discovered that you can have a lot of fun with an orgonite cloudbuster on the roof of the car when we were driving to Florida from Idaho in September-more on that in a bit--but the best highway fun for us came a couple of weeks after we got here, when Carol inadvertently got behind a fedmobile in order to have a moving shield for speeding.

Do you know that trick? She swears that the cops will always go after the guy in front of a line of speeding cars and the Florida interstates and turnpikes are kind of like the Autobahn, anyway, and one rarely sees drivers pulled over for speeding.

The funniest part is that they always assume we're smart enough to do this stuff on purpose and even when we get lost while under surveillance they assume we're exercising some tricky new style of spycraft, even though most gifters aren't even aware of their dung beetle entourage.. It reminds me of the old Monty Python, 'Confuse-A-Cat' skit and sometimes confused feds, in bunches, look like the Keystone Kops, especially after you've done some surgical blasting.

If you can manage to be married to a telepath you'll get lots of new fun like this that others won't likely experience, though we're all telepaths when we're dead so it's not really a big deal-don't feel like you're lacking something.

On that afternoon we were driving from Jupiter, our new home on the north boundary of West Palm Beach, to St Augustine, about 140 miles north, to examine a catamaran for sale. She got behind the first vehicle she encountered that was driving over 75 mph, which happened to be a van with US Gov't license plates. The speed limit on I-95 is 70. There was one fellow driving and something big in the back, which we could see the top of because the windows weren't tinted.

He sped up from 75 to 90 immediately, which seemed awfully odd, since gov't drones never speed-I think they get punished by their supervisors when they're caught. So, she got in his head and discovered that he's NSA, taking some broken psionic equipment from the Navy Ship that was being used to keep the dolphins away from us when we were at the beach. Guess who broke it ;-)

Here's where the pastime started: we blasted the crap out of that guy and he did some bobbing and weaving, trying to get away from Carol. Of course she stayed right on him, keeping a safe distance behind, and the guy got on the phone, then. Within five minutes there were feds all around us, including a big pickup with black windshield right behind us, matching our speed.

Carol got a big headache, apparently from whomever was in the pickup, but the other surveillance vehicles left the hightway shortly after we blasted the drivers. I focused on sending energy thru her headache and the pickup dropped back a quarter mile or so & the headache disappeared.

It started raining heavily and the guy in front didn't slow down, though the rest of the traffic did, and the pickup came right up behind us again. Carol said the driver was an android and to punctuate the statement she had me observe that the windshield wipers were operating only intermittently in a way that you or I would be unable to see well enough to ride someone's bumper during a downpour at 85 miles an hour. Showoff-obviously NSA.

We both hammered that guy and he dropped back a quarter mile, again, then we focused on the guy in the van. Shortly after that the van pulled off at a rest area, so we parked beside him and I followed him to the restroom. He did a little quick turn and went in the other door from me. I was looking forward to getting next to him while blasting. That would have been a real p!$$er! 8)

You might have noticed that the three sewer rat agencies do their spycraft in three distinct styles. Say what you will about the Homeland Security Abomination; the What To Think Network may claim that the FBI, CIA and NSA are one agency but we're not seeing it around us these days, though it's true that they seem to be a little more coordinated than they were in the days when two FBI and CIA surveillance teams drew their guns on each other when DB stepped out from an aisle in a Pasadena supermarket in the late nineties.

In case you want to fine tune your observations, here's how they look: FBI look like crew-cutted, high school football jocks or Mormon missionaries in costume and they radiate aggression and skewed, blustery confidence. They're usually young, white males, too. These are the ones who often make a point of getting in your face as 'plumbers,' 'gas meter readers,' 'repo men,' 'utility workers,' etc. A lot of them simply look like the bully in your elementary school's playground or particularly aggressive fundamentalist Christians. It may be that in Ted Gunderson's day there were people of integrity in the FBI, but I suspect he was one of the last. They like to pretend to be real cops, too, and are fond of busting down doors, slaughtering families while dressed up like battle-armored ninjas. They love costumes. These jackbooted ninjas are the ones you and I probably won't ever see, unless the BushSr regime gets its martial law wish. If that wish is granted, they'll likely be the last people we ever see ;-) but from where we're standing this seems to be getting less likely each day, thank God.

When we were on the other side of the state, near Port Charlotte, looking at another catamaran for sale we came out of the boatyard and found four FBI vehicles by the gate, including a upbiquitous umarked white van with orange ladders on top, and the drivers were all out of their vehicles having a confab. This was out, literally, in the middle of nowhere ;-). We blasted them all, of course, which is something you need to do every time you see or sense a fed near you. Etherically blasting them is a public service because these folks all make a living being lawless predators, so when they're not trying to harm you or violate your right to privacy, they're guaranteed to be doing that or worse to some other innocent person.

Those agencies are set up to ultimately destroy us all-they were ultimately each chartered to do that by that pre-eminent National Socialist, Franklin Delano Roosevelt, though the NSA and CIA grew out of the US Navy and British Intelligence some time after FDR's timely demise. The only lawful national cops worked for the Treasury Department, of course, and included the Coast Guard. We used to actually have a Treasury Department but the Iternational Monetary Fund assumed that role after a military coup ended Nixon's presidency ;-).

CIA pavement artists try their best to blend in, so they're actually conspicuous that way. No sane person goes to that length to be inconspicuous, of course. They give off a sort of paranoid vibe and will go to great lengths to avoid eye contact with you, even though they're all around you, if possible, when you're out gifting. They seem to be the default gifters' surveillance teams because, let's face it, most folks don't ever think to look for them. Look for them! ;-) If you see anyone around when you're dropping orgonite, please assume they're CIA and only do it when they're out of sight, assuming you have a Succor Punch running in your car. Don't Dally Around, either! If you spend two minutes burying a bit of orgontie when you don't have to it's much more likely that your CIA entourage will catch up with you and mark the spot for later retrieval of your gift.

The CIA are the ones who use the most psychics and it's likely that if you see a CIA freak driving a car there will be a psychic in the passenger seat. The psychics are mostly middle aged and even elderly women but we've seen a few men among them. That gives us an idea how long these folks have been at it. Watch HEARTS IN ATLANTIS if you want to get a clue about the history.

The NSA are the bee's knees, the cream of the crop; these are often flamboyant, dress in bright colors, drive fancy cars, radiate genuine confidence and try their best to intimidate without actually hitting or shooting you. Once, when I took my kids to a restaurant in Bellingham, Washington, we came back to the car and there were two NSA guys standing there, pretending to be panhandlers. They were actually being obnoxious to everyone who passed by on that downtown sidewalk, though they ignored all five of us. They were dressed in expensive, stylish clothes and shoes and were articulate and clean shaven, though one had long hair. They just wanted me to know they were around, I guess. I think lots of hippies joined the NSA, which shouldn't be surprising since the hippie movement directly resulted in a vast expansion of the federal bureaucracy, too. I was a teen in the sixties and I saw lots and lots of hippies, since then, move into the 'public sector,' as potheads who simply lacked the ambition to be entrepreneurs or artisans. If you'll apply some critical thinking to this and not get sidetracked by Theosophical arcanery you'll see the signs, yourself.

As you can tell, these NSA guys (we rarely see women in the NSA) are sometimes witty, even, and I can tell you that they resist our blasting efforts the best. They come the closest to being worthy opponents, I think. It was obviously NSA hackers who destroyed last month, for instance. The NSA operates in Canada with impunity, probably because they grew out of British MI6 after World War II.

One reason that Carol gets mobbed by spooks when I'm not with her is that arrogant men assume that women are less powerful than men are. You'd think that the trail of destruction that Carol leaves in their ranks, in her wake, would give them a clue by now, but I have to assume that they're just masochists.

The NSA's Men in Black I encountered outside of Baltimore, three years ago, didn't fit that mold, though. I tought they were in town for a morticians' convention except that I already knew that NSA favors brand new Lincoln Town Cars with chrome grills and the parking lot was full of them. I also knew that morticians don't carry heavy caliber concealed weapons at their ankles, of course, or wear dark glasses inside buildings and constantly talk into radios. Maybe these guys were just the lower MIB echelon: wetworkers; assassins; not Will Smith or Tommy Lee Jones types. I had just finished gifting Washington, DC's satanic pentagram, though, so I had a good sense that their bold appearance was just sour grapes. I'd done pretty well evading them in the city for the previous three nights during my gifting sorties.

The following summer, when I was in the Reno, Nevada driver license bureau, an NSA guy sat beside me and tried to intimidate me. Carol was sitting across the aisle and was astounded that I didn't notice the crew-cutted, muscular guy flexing and scowling directly at me but I think the Harmonic Protector I was wearing just transmuted the energy that he was throwing at me. We had just finished an incredibly big gifting campaign with Richard , earlier that day. On the way out of there I put our business card under his new, white Lincoln Town Car's (it had a chrome grill and he was parked in a handicapped parking spot right by the entrance ;-)) windshield wiper. Carol had pointed out the car as his, of course.

Back to the tale: We followed the van out of the rest area, all the way to the St Augustine exit, where we got off in a way that he couldn't see us. The menacing pickup didn't get off the highway at the rest area but a state trooper was waiting in the parking lot, talking on his radio. Along the way I took the wheel while Carol went out of her body and into the van. The cargo, a big, tricked-out Chinese psionic weapon, was apparently being taken to Savannah, Georgia, where the Chinese military have an extensive port facility, probably like the one in Long Beach [CA] that everyone knows exists. Our first encounter with the one in Savannah was almost five years ago, on our way back to Ft Pierce, Florida from visiting with Al Bielek in Atlanta.

That time, we felt a need to leave some orgonite at the port and when we approached, Carol got quite sick from the dense and poisonous DOR radiating from what the Chinese were bringing in there, which was apparently huge lots of bioweaponry for the chemtrails, among other nasty stuff. She wasn't able to drive, in fact, and was barely able to focus enough to find the central, strongest point of the DOR so we could drop the orgonite there. Being psychic, she was literally incapacitated but all I felt was a little nausea and irritability.

That was the year that the chemtrail program was at its peak and unopposed and it was a month before we made our first orgonite cloudbuster. Everywhere we went in the US, that year, the DOR was quite dense, even in Navajo and Hopi land, and that was even before most of the death towers were erected. Have you considered what our world would look and feel like by now if not for orgonite and the commitment of a few thousand souls to distribute it intelligently?

There was a strong alien presence there, too, and this was one of our very first gifting missions, so the human and non-human predators were pretty confident and aggressive.

I often say that I don't want to be psychic and some folks think I'm scamming. I really don't, because I can see the pain and discomfort that go along with it every day in my wife, DB, and others who are truly talented and committed to defeating tyranny. In other words, there's not much glamor in it from where I'm standing and I'm perfectly content to get my occasional intuitive hits and realizations. When I happen to see a ghost, spaceship or elemental in fleeting moments it's just fun and games, not my reason for living. I can then honestly say, too, that if I can experience this stuff, so can you. They are nice confirmations of a wider, richer world than 3D, after all.

Meanwhile, that Navy ship that was the weapons platform for the Chinese psychics, NSA psionic operators and Navy sonar predators who were beaming Jeff, Carol and I and the dolphins during our first swimming/gifting excursion here is apparently still in Palm Beach so when we get our catamaran in a week or two that will be one of our first gifting social calls ;-) as we bring it from Ft Lauderdale to our own Jupiter Inlet, grid willing.

We later found out that a pod of roughtooth dolpnins came to retrieve all that orgonite we left out beyond the surf that day. Some surfers spotted them the next day. You may know that these are the specie who initiated Carol in Costa Rica a year ago and also showed up in Haifa Bay a month later to show our psychics an underwater nuke bomb that was supposed to initiate Armageddon on behalf of the BushSr cabal. Twits.

Have you noticed that all of these folks are lately looking like they've been through the wringer? 'You're welcome!'

And 'Thanks!' if you, too are doing your civic duty and etherically blasting the crap out of these mass murderers whenever you think about it. There are so many good ways to empower ourselves in this new, grassroot global movement and new ways are showing up, still! Don't you agree that this is the best time to be alive? The dolphins in our chatblast sessions are getting more aggressive toward the megamurderers, by the way, and pretty soon maybe Carol and I will learn some tricks from them that we can pass along to you. Getting the boat seemed to be a milestone, judging by how obstinately the feds tried to stand in our way of getting the financing.

A couple of weeks ago, the day after Carol went back to Idaho to get some of our stuff and tie up some loose ends, I had a waking vision (very rare for me) in which several dolphins told me to 'Get it done!' When I told Carol about it the other day she was galvanized and drove that little U-Haul truck 11 and 12 hours each day to get here sooner. She's about four hours away from home now, by my estimation, and I'm about to go to a payphone and call her as soon as I finish writing this report.

She had some interesting experiences along the way. The feds have been all over her since she left here; poisoned her severely in the Chicago airport, tried again in Idaho (smeared poisonous stuff on the door handle of the car she was using) and generally made nuisances of themselves. The night before Halloween someone apparently thought it would be funny to assign her to a haunted room in a motel and when she came out of the toilet at a gas station she caught two feds in the cab of the truck ;-)

Thanks very much, by the way, to Dooney, Dr Stevo, Jeff and Lynda for boosting Carol after the Chicago episode, by the way! She had immediately used a couple of zappers to neutralize the poison but was facing several days of recovery (many of us have been through this a few times). You guys helped her bounce back a hundred percent within a few hours. The healing aspect of blasting doesn't get much play these days but I swear that's going to be the main focus after all these lawless, fake-gov't types and their corporate puppetmasters have been brought to account in coming days.

The only fun she had on this trip, I think, was some time manipulation after she asked The Operators to shorten her trip. Yesterday, for instance, an hour after she was in St Louis she found herself in the middle of Tennessee, on the way to Chattanooga, where she met Doc von Peters at a Waffle House for breakfast ;-) Gotta love Waffle House! That was around 400 missing miles.

The main fun we had on our trip together from there to here was changing the cloudbuster on the roof to point backward and forward at intervals, though it was kind of gratifying to deflate a severe thunderstorm when we were camped east of Topeka, Kansas. It was going to be a real menace if we didn't have a cloudbuster with us-maybe a HAARP tornado, in fact. People in Kansas don 't even joke about these destructive, sudden storms.

If you get a chance to take a CB with you on a long trip, watch the feds in front and back of you. You can bet one agency or another, or all of them if you're really a threat to national [socialist] security, like Carol and I are, will have you under box surveillance or will try to, at least. Put a bonehead in the mix and you can really twist their etheric tits!

When you aim it forward, the fed in front bobs and weaves to get out of the line of fire, then either races out of sight or jumps off at the next exit. When you point it to the rear the fed in that position passes you at breakneck speed or can't seem to wait to get off the highway. This happened again and again and provided no end of amusement, taking away a lot of the tedium of that loooong trip.

It's a lot more fun than counting Volkswagen Beetles and you'll learn a thing or two about how the federal government operates that never gets mentioned in the Social[ist] Studies textbooks or on National [Socialist] Public Radio. Enjoy! Tell me about your highway fedbuster adventures,

~Don Croft

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