The Freedom of Knowledge, The Power of Thought ©
Episode 9
California Gemmorah
Okay to Look Back This Time

By Don Croft <>
Oct. 2001

San Diego Vortex
The large, very sick vortex just east of San Diego was a place we’d been warned by somebody to stay away from, as he’d personally known of someone who had been murdered by a black helicopter with a harpoon sort of device for just walking on the land there, so of course we just couldn’t wait to get there!

The Wingmakers told Carol that the underground base and vortex were at the upstream end of Sweetwater Reservoir, so we drove there.  When we arrived, she was told to go immediately to Otay Reservoir, a few miles to the south, which we did.  She then saw the vortex, which was exceptionally large and medusa-like, as the vortex at the nuke plant outside of Orlando looked—very unusual and sinister.

We had tried to drive to the spot on the highway that was marked on our map, but that road was blocked and bulldozed out of existence a few miles prior to the site, so we took an alternate route. There are no fences around the land over the underground facility, but metaphysical folk in San Diego know about it and the attendant dangers to curious visitors.  Many people had disappeared there.

The people who know about it assume that the alleged government doesn’t want to draw attention to the activity there, so didn’t put up fences.  It’s on the edge of the metropolitan San Diego area.  Instead of fences and uniformed guards, they apparently feel it’s expedient to just 'disappear' curious visitors.  They know that anyone still in the Matrix won’t be curious about that area.

I’m actually feeling pretty confident that the critical-mass number of people who have left the Matrix and know for sure that the alleged government is waging war against us has already been reached.  I think that number is only a few thousand, so perhaps you are one of the lucky few.

The tide is turning now, as evidenced by the young people peacefully demonstrating against the World Bank’s atrocities can attest.  Their parents missed the mark in the sixties when they demonstrated against the felonious feds, since our alleged  government has always taken direction from the cynical, predatory old men who own the World  Bank.  So you could metaphorically say that in the sixties the dog attacked the club that was beating him, but now the dog is aware of who’s wielding the club and is attacking  him, instead (spiritually, of course, not physically).  I’m so tickled to see this happening at last!

As soon as we stop feeding the human parasites in the body politic, the ET ones will just dry up and blow away.  Isn’t that obvious?  Of course the human ones will have to resort to either honest work or honest criminal activity, as I mentioned. I don’t think it’s  possible in the emerging paradigm to conduct predatory activities under the ‘color of  law,’ given the sudden and widespread effectiveness of the internet and enough people’s discernment.  Cicero had said ‘politicians are not made, they are excreted.’  None of my associates pay any mind at all to the prattle of these redundant folk.

Carol told me that they were expecting us to show up at Sweetwater Reservoir, but were shocked to find us at the real location, Otay Reservoir. See how the Wingmakers can even use my big mouth (keyboard?) to advantage?  I do have an intrinsic hatred for secrecy, unless it’s for somebody’s protection or a non-offensive confidence.  The new paradigm's way to hide the truth is, after all, to state it clearly and in simple terms.  Secret societies—humbug!

We parked the car nearby and walked toward the old reservoir, at which a couple of fellows were ‘fishing.’ A  government pickup truck showed up within seconds of our arrival and the driver scrutinized us, then drove over to where the two men were.  We walked to the right spot and I put the larger than usual HHg where I was directed.  Carol didn’t look well.  A black helicopter flew slowly from behind a nearby hill, then flew back.

Cloaking & Unidentified ET's
We got into the car and every four or five minutes, a helicopter flew within view.  This happened during the whole time we drove up the coast, almost to LA. Carol said that they at first wanted to make sure we were leaving.  During the time between the pickup turning away from us and the appearance of the black helicopter, Carol said we were invisible to human surveillance, so they didn’t have a clue what we did and didn’t see the HHg at all, thanks to the Wingmakers.  The helpful reptilians, who usually run intereference for us with mind control on surveillors, weren’t able to enter the Southern California metro area, Carol said, because the reptilian hive there is predatory and aggressive.  The one we’re friends with is mellow and not harmful to humans.

All they knew for sure was that we severely damaged the apparatus that predatory ET’s had set up in conjunction with our alleged government that was keeping a black hole sort of portal open underground, in the vortex.  Carol didn’t know what it was intended for, but only that it was more than usually nefarious.  As I was placing the orgone device, an ET-type that Carol had never seen before thrust some green slime down her throat and into her stomach, which began to hurt.

Putting a Terminator on, she felt better in a few minutes.  She said it was mycoplasma—the same stuff used in chemtrails, and that it was intended to cause her to have a very prolonged, painful death.  I’d heard years ago on Art Bell’s program accounts of people picking up bits of  slime that dropped out of military planes over Everett, immediately after which they got extremely ill, some even dying.  I assume now that this was done in the early stages of chemtrail experimentation.  Now it disperses nicely when it comes out of the UN tanker jets overhead, so we stopped hearing those stories.

I guess the ET picked on her because they just didn’t see me and what I was doing for a few seconds.  I can tell you that if one of those fellows showed up, it would be worth the experience to me just to see him, since I’m a confirmation junkie. Carol’s seen this sort thing all her life, though, so she doesn’t need much confirmation that way. From her description, the only image that comes to my mind is the predatory commander of the attacking alien ship on GALAXY QUEST.  She says they aren’t Draconians and hasn’t a clue where they’re from or what they want besides the enslavement and exploitation of humanity.

One of them got into the black hole portal and tried to hold it open.  I checked with Carol during the day and she said that after awhile, several of them were in there, though they knew before long that it was a futile effort.

The vortex straightened right out to its pristine form. Carol said that the HHg wouldn’t have worked if it was any smaller.  The only other place that we know of that needs one that size in the huge one, centered 35 miles southeast of Bimini on the Grand Bahama Bank.  It took ten minutes to fly through that vortex on the way to Nassau from Miami. That’s the one I went a little crazy in during a storm.  I wish Carol had been with me then. I wish we knew what sort of thing they had planned for that black hole.

The atmosphere cleared up right after that and became pleasant.  It was overcast and windy until we did the deed. One of my customers in San Diego told me a few days later that she knew something good and momentous happened there that day.

There were many helicopters taking turns surveilling us all the way to Orange County.  We passed through a sort of  permanent roadblock halfway to Orange County at which indeterminate federal police were looking into each car on the eight lane highway.  Carol immediately said the alleged cop that looked at us took a picture of us.  A few minutes later, a car that came up behind us slowed to match our speed and the driver looked at the orgone pyramid in the back window and the six feet long cloudbuster, which was between the seats, with the top end resting on the dashboard.

I asked her if the fellow was a felonious fed spook and she said, no, he’s just a regular guy stuck in the Matrix that the spooks were using to look at our devices. They caused him to slow down and were looking through his eyes to see our stuff, just like the Navajo medicine woman was using the raven in a nicer way.  Creepy, but what else do you expect from criminals with unlimited bank accounts and warped, infantile shamans at their beck and call?  Baba Ram Dass, Alan Watts and Timothy Leary, former (?) CIA operatives, no doubt helped the psycops guys swell their ranks with psychically proficient, but integrity-challenged ‘young, mighty shamans’ through their involvement with MK Ultra.  That’s not to say they aren’t nice guys, of course.  I remember that one young lady I knew who had lived at Mr. Dass’ ashram in New Mexico in the seventies was told the Big Secret there—“It’s all in the head!”

Anyone in a discerning moment realizes that the use of hallucinogenic drugs stops spiritual growth, so it’s understandable that Dr. Leary et al. emphasized their use so emphatically at the time.  At least nobody is calling their shenanigans ‘spirituality’ any more.

Thank Grid the younger generation is more discerning. I’d  always wondered why so many metaphysical folk my age are so adamant about not opposing the established order, but now I understand ‘where they’re coming from,’ and it’s not a place I’d like to visit, thanks.

China & Long Beach, California
The rest of the day in Los Angeles was mostly spent in traffic, though we delivered HHg’s to two locations and  left the cloudbuster between Hollywood and Burbank.  The first HHg went on the property of an underground  base at the Seal Beach Naval Weapons Station, where there’s a vortex which was being used by a consortium of  ET’s and American and Chinese military people.  I mean communist Chinese, of course.  The Chinese Military owns and operates the container port facility in Long Beach that’s in the news now and then.  Last time I know about was when a container full of automatic weapons bound for the Watts district of LA was discovered there.  I bet that that investigative journalist who ran that story was suicided or is unemployed.  The CIA had to show up at a Watts  public meeting just to say this never happened.   I wonder how many people there believed them.

Carol told me that the Chinese scientists at the facility were particularly interested in our cloudbuster.  Now there’s a conundrum.  Two forces seem to be at work in China now, even in the same individuals.  One is moving toward even more oppression and  the military takeover of the US (stand in line, fellas),  the other toward free market practices and individual freedom.  We’ll do what we can to encourage the latter course.  I’d be happy to share the cloudbuster information with anyone, as it can’t be used to harm people or the  planet.

The vortex healed, of course.  We didn’t feel too concerned about what was going on there.  It kind of paled after our experience in San Diego, and we weren’t being overtly surveilled any more.

Hours later, we got to the small vortex across town in Encino and dropped the HHg there.  I drove east on US 101 until Carol told me to stop and we deposited the cloudbuster in the bushes by the side of the highway.  Carol wrote down the number on the light pole so it can be recovered at the appropriate time, but we’ve since lost the map. We were informed that it would take about a month to clear the dead orgone out of LA.

No doubt there are more vortices in the area, and plenty of other places that need HHg’s, but these are the ones we were directed to take care of initially.  No doubt other energy healers will do the rest when the time is right [as of Jan. 2, 2002 LAARP {Los Angeles Atmosphere Reclamation Project} is well on the way to finishing that job]. Unlike Lot’s wife at the Biblical Gemmorah, Carol didn’t turn to salt as we drove away from Los Angeles that day. It is an icky place, though.  We both found it nearly impossible to even drive through the area before that day, but I guess being on a mission makes unpleasant things like that more tolerable.

Don Croft

© 2001-2002 Don Croft & All Rights Reserved

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