The Freedom of Knowledge, The Power of Thought ©
Episode 8
Road Warriors of Sorts
Part 3

By Don Croft <>
June 2001

Duke Made Me Do It
We had an intriguing 3D experience with some Venusions who had been following us since we used the Chembuster (CB) on the underground base south of Miami, Florida. We were driving south on US 89 from I-70 and Carol directed my attention to a few very small clouds that were lined up east to west directly in front of us.  The only other clouds in the sky were over the Rockies far to the east. It was obvious that somebody was creating and maintaining the little clouds to conserve energy (it apparently isn’t easy to be invisible).

I asked Carol if they were up to no good, but she couldn’t tell right away. I’m afraid I jumped the gun a bit—I parked the Zapporium, took out the CB and started blasting the little clouds (John Wayne had slept in the town we just passed through, according to a sign we saw, so there may have been some subliminal thing working in my head).

Within a few seconds, each cloud I shot disappeared, but each time the one next to it got bigger.  When it was obvious that I wasn’t winning, I quit.  By that time, Carol had pulled her car over and was standing with me. When I’d given up, she said “Why are you doing that?  They’re just watching us and now you’ve made them mad.”  She said that what I did wasn’t harming them, just making it hard to stay cloaked.  I was relieved.

I immediately quit, put the CB away, and apologized to the people in the craft. Carol then said “Look at that cloud of dead orgone!” and I got excited again, took my sound crystal with the mobius coil and started directing orgone into the cloud, which was a hundred yards or so in front of us and slowly rising from the ground.

First a hole showed up where I was pointing the crystal, then a counter-clockwise vortex started spinning around the hole.  It looked like one of those spiral galaxies that we’ve seen in deep space telescope photos—really cool, but it was spinning in the opposite direction of the little circles I was making with the crystal.

Carol and other sensitives see this stuff all the time, but grunts like me get pretty jazzed when we see it happening.  All of this time, there was a single cloud above and in front of us which didn’t move, though there was a good breeze blowing from the north.  It actually got a little dark while all this was happening.  Carol told me that all five of the craft were in that one cloud and that they wouldn’t ‘talk’ to her, but were watching and listening.

After offering our friendship and promising not to shoot at them any more, I got in the truck and tried to start the motor. Carol had to pour some gasoline into the carburetor to get it started. She said the dead orgone we saw had been put into the carburetor by the Venusions as a little payback and that if they were really angry they would have broken something, as the B Sirians did when we did our last Chembusting exercise by Luna Mound at Cahokia a couple of weeks earlier  I had to lay the CB down on the floor in back, pointing at the motor, in order to keep going.  Thankfully, the motor ran smoothly again after a few miles and has been fine since then.

The little clouds stayed near us all the way to Flagstaff the next day.  When we were having lunch in Flagstaff, we saw the same sort of little clouds all in a row, low in the sky.  We watched them for the hour or so we were there, and they didn’t move, though there was a steady, strong breeze.

That evening I saw one of the craft depart (the setting sun reflected off the side of it, which got my attention).  We’ve since made contact with them.  Carol got their leader’s name, but couldn’t pronounce it.  He likes some science fiction movies that we have.

The Raven
On the way to Flagstaff we stopped at Four Corners, which is the point where Utah, Colorado, New Mexico and Arizona meet.  It’s also a natural vortex & formerly a national park.  Now the Navajo tribe owns it and regulates the activity there. We didn’t see any smog on our drive through the Ute Reservation in Utah, but suddenly we were immersed in it as we arrived at Four Corners to offer the holy handgrenade to the guardian of that vortex.  Carol said the vortex was being kept pristine by the Navajo shamans, but that our offering had been accepted in honor of the unity of humanity.  A very old raven showed up and appeared to be wanting our attention.  Carol told me to follow the raven to find the right spot to put the Holy Handgrenade (HHg), and just then the raven flew to a pile of large stones about a hundred yards away. I went to that spot and put the HHg in among the stones as the raven watched from a few paces away. Carol said she saw a Navajo woman’s image superimposed on the raven.

Navajo land is unlike any of the other terrain on the continent and is indescribably spectacular.  I had driven through there when I was nineteen years old in my budding hobo career, but apparently was oblivious to most of the beauty then. Why do some old people pine for their youth?

On this trip, though, the smog became so dense by the time we reached the vicinity of the Hopi land that we were alarmed at the implications.  We decided that we’d facilitate getting a CB there as soon as possible to clear away all of that dead orgone, since they were obviously being targeted for some reason, probably because their existence poses a threat to the current regime. We need to go after the predatory agenda wherever they’re concentrating their deadly attention.

Hyper in Sedona
As I mentioned, the Wingmakers had us make 13 HHg’s before we started on our weird science trips in March.  Along the way, they added a few, probably on account of my peculiar inability or unwillingness to keep secrets.  Carol, who tends to be handicapped more in the opposite way, and I both agree that the Wingmakers allowed for this trait of mine before we got involved with them.

After finishing the day’s Terminator business in the Flagstaff motel room, we drove straight to Sedona. We’d asked Melody to send the pile of mail, including money orders, that accumulated in Idaho to Sedona and expected them to be there when we arrived, which was Friday afternoon. When the package hadn’t gotten there, we assumed that was because we needed to spend more than a day in Arizona.  The plan was to pick up the mail, put a HHg in the vortex field in Sedona, meet someone in Tucson, and then drive on to southern California for the next phase.

Standing in the Post Office, I noticed that my body was vibrating, starting from the vertical line of charkras, mainly the heart, and spreading out to the rest of my body.  Carol saw that before I could tell her about it, of course.  She said that this was happening because some energy workers had been ‘fixing’ the vortices around Sedona and they were spinning at an un-naturally high rate.  She was quite uncomfortable, but I just felt energized. Naturally lethargic people like myself appreciate most kinds of extra energy.

The Wingmakers had us put the HHg, which was hastily made in Flagstaff using a pretty party hat, on the ground in town.  Carol noticed that the hyperactive spin slowed down right away and all of the vortices were again in harmony.  Like most doctors, ‘powerful  shamans’ apparently often feel the need to fix what isn’t broken.  Thankfully, engaging in p---ing contests is becoming faux pas with more of them and now they're starting to look for the unifying principle of the new paradigm and get in line with that. Big egos are best left at the door with six guns and big white horses.

When we got back to the rest area parking lot to get the Zapporium, Madame Raven was waiting for us.  I asked Carol to look at the energy to make sure my hunch was correct about that, and she said I was definitely right.

Vibrating in Pheonix & Trial in Tucson
The folks we needed to see were in Tucson, so we got a spot in an RV campground in Phoenix for the weekend.  That night  I put the sound crystal with the mobius coil and frequency device on my chest and I started vibrating again.  In a few minutes, I was filled to bursting with kundalini.  Every time Carol touched me she jumped.  I actually went to sleep right after that, content in the knowledge that I was getting some good information that would be unlocked at the appropriate time in the future. The only other times I’ve felt that so strongly was on James and Rose Mary Hughes’ grid in Ashland, Oregon.  They really ARE wizards!

I wanted to go to Tucson to meet the folks I mentioned, but took the time instead to catch up with writing down our experiences.  I worry a bit about forgetting important things if I wait too long.  The fellow in Tucson is a celebrity who was shortly to be in a show trial in a kangaroo federal tax court, so I had offered to give him a HHg to keep in the courtroom (he graciously accepted it and promised to put it on the defendant table as a paper weight) and to fix up one of his wife’s crystals with a mobius coil, etc.  Carol had felt that the HHg, especially, would give him an advantage because the contumacious behavior of the crooked judge and prosecutor would not be effective, and the jury would have less fear and more courage.  Very simple.  I personally wouldn’t show up in any of those unlawful admiralty courts except in chains, but everybody has their own style; a fact which I respect and work with.  He was quite confident he could win, since he knew the appropriate constitutional laws and is a very, very good orator.

After another day of catch-up with writing and Terminator manufacturing, with some restaurant touring mixed in, we drove back to Sedona in the car.

Looks Like Science Now
Some of you may know that when miracles are experienced they don’t seem weird or wondrous at all.  At least that’s our experience.  Firewalks feel that way to me, for instance (except for the little glowing coals that get stuck between my toes after I get done).  I’d gotten used to getting reports from customers of ‘miraculous’ cures over the years so I don’t even record them any more or give them much thought. Besides, just about any cure seems like a miracle to the average incompetent, jaded doc  who is in the business of keeping customers until their assets are all gone, not curing illnesses.  It just looks like science now.  I like the really weird stuff anyway, being an Ace of Spades. Well, according to our watches, we would have had to drive over 100 miles per hour to cover the distance between Phoenix and the Sedona highway cutoff, but I never went over 80 mph.  This just told us that we needed to be someplace at a certain time, so we paid closer attention after that.

We picked up our mail and started out of town, following our urge to visit a nice metaphysical store on the way out, where I got Carol a beautiful heart-shaped crystal from Madagascar, a place that figures heavily in her astrological information (I found out later).

Bell Rock Portal
As we passed by Bell Rock, Carol got that look that tells me she’s getting a message, so I asked her ‘What’s up?’  She said that we needed to be going by Bell Rock at that moment because a portal opened up there briefly and she needed to identify what that felt like.  The Wingmakers told her that when we return together at some undisclosed future time, the portal will open again and we’ll meet the Wingmakers in our own dimension, face to face.  That explained the time warp that happened earlier.  I love the Wingmakers’ style!  I bet a few of them are also Aces of Spades.

After an uneventful, but incredibly hot trip through Arizona and a night in a rest area, we arrived at the pass west of Palm Springs that opens onto the Los Angeles metropolitan area.  The smog was piled up and spilling over that pass and a strong, cold wind was blowing from that direction. There was a stationary cloud on the south edge of the pass that Carol told me was covering a very big B Sirian craft that was unloading something into the underground facility there that belongs to our alleged government.  Yuck.

We knew we’d be spending a few days in southern California, but didn’t want to be in that awful dead orgone field, so we drove through San Bernardino in the direction of Victorville and got a motel for a few nights at the pass nearby.  The dead orgone/smog extended a little above and beyond the highway exit where the motel was located.

Slim Spurling’s Environmental Harmonizer is said to remove dead orgone fields and their attendant particulates which together make up ‘smog.’  I don’t have one, but I believe this is true.  I dearly wish more people in cities would just get these devices and use them correctly.  They are probably superior to cloudbusters for this task, though they no doubt work on similar principles.  Both devices regulate weather, though in slightly different ways.

When we got up in the morning, the smog had retreated to much lower elevations, and the sky was uncharacteristically blue, which was nice but not surprising.  We were now ready for our descent into Gommorah.

Don Croft

© 2001-2002 Don Croft & All Rights Reserved

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All information posted on this web site is the opinion of the author and is provided for educational purposes only. It is not to be construed as medical advice. Only a licensed medical doctor can legally offer medical advice in the United States. Consult the healer of your choice for medical care and advice.