By Don Croft <firstname.lastname@example.org>
March/ April, 2001
This is just too bizarre not to have a written record while it’s still fresh in my mind. I guess it doesn’t matter to me anymore if anyone believes it or not. It feels very real to me (Carol certainly has no doubts about it) and there are just too many evidences and confirmations for us to suspect that we’re just making it up. Our conviction is strictly a personal matter, though, and you need to use your discernment to see if this story has relevance for you. I used to laugh at people who wrote about these things. Now I laugh about people who laugh at these things. So it goes.
Carol Derry and I had been growing our relationship with the Wingmakers and some native reptilians who have been following us in a 4-man (!) craft since our meeting with Al Bielek on February 1 in Atlanta.Other groups have lately come into this working relationship, including dolphins and Pleiadians. It’s apparent that good guys conspire just as much as parasites do, except the good guys love and trust each other and the bad guys wait for opportunities, such as, a sign of awakened compassion, to tear each others’ throats out.
Both of us had then noticed two individuals at the next table at IHOP who seemed peculiarly interested in our conversation with Al for 3 hours or so. We made eye contact with them and they seemed pleasant, if odd and lacking in social graces. Afterward, Carol told me that when she came back from the restroom toward the end of the visit, she was struck by the realization that these people were reptilians, disguised as humans. I take her very seriously, as her psychic perception has a very good track record and she is one of the most reliable and fearless living people that I know personally.
Our relationship started nearly four years ago. She is my sister-in-law Melody’s, best friend and fellow witch. She’s had the ability to see energy and non-physical entities since early childhood and has been able to spontaneously astral travel for most of her life. We became partners in energy work nearly a year ago [June, 2000] in Idaho, when Carol helped me develop the Terminator by using her special abilities. Four years ago, I traded a zapper and an orgone accumulator (orgone devices make psychic perception much stronger and clearer) for a couple of Cards of Destiny readings from Carol. I call them “News You Can Use.” I’d been making zappers for a year when I met her and had just discovered the work of Wilhelm Reich through Serge Kahili King’s excellent book, Earth Energies. I’m grateful to Mr. King for throwing out all the dogma that became attached to orgone work since the death of Dr. Reich and I hope others can use this book as a practical introduction to using these energies..
We started our energy work last year [June, 2000] (aside from the zapper business) when we used the Zapporium--our mobile factory, RV, energy center, home, which is loaded with high energy devices—to heal a vortex in the vicinity of Jim and Melody’s land (we simply parked the RV within the vortex overnight). Both of us sensed, then saw some very irrate aliens (grays) as that was occurring. They were unable to get into the Zapporium because of the intensity of the orgone field and were unable to harm us. The vortex, the energy of which was being ‘stolen’ by the grays, straightened out to its natural form within a few hours & the aliens departed after letting both of us know that they were very perturbed. This set a pattern for what came later. The Holy Handgrenade straightens them out almost instantly when it’s placed on the ground or in a body of water.
In the following pages, I’ll bring the Wingmakers and native reptilians into sharper focus for the reader, don’t worry. We’ve encountered other groups, but these two, especially the Wingmakers, are the ones we’re working with [after this writing we began working with the Lemurians, too]. .
I stayed in rural Idaho with my brother Jim while waiting for a new engine for the Zapporium. Jim’s a real mountain man and is also a world authority in medieval bookbinding . That took two months, during which time I used the solar panels on the Zapporium and continued my business. I also established a partnership with Carol who lived 20 miles away. Carol and I left together in late August, committed to do whatever we were guided to do in the healing trades together. We didn’t have a clue where it would lead, but we were having plenty of fun finding out.
By the autumn equinox, we found ourselves on Mt. Shasta. On a whim, we had visited the Oregon Vortex a few days previous to that. We were having difficulty finding it, so I asked Carol to look for the energy, and we drove toward the dome of energy that she saw. I had a flood of ‘hunches’ as to the nature of the vortex and its connection with other energy centers in the world. Carol saw that the center of the spherical energy field was about 50’ below the ground and that the energy was being generated by an object, probably some sort of crystal, placed there in antiquity by Atlanteans for some reason ( we’re in the slow process of learning more about it).
After the short tour, we looked at some literature and a globe in the little gift shop there. The fellow who had bought the land in the 1930s was an amateur archaeologist (& metaphyics buff) and was apparently aware of what was underground. The fellow died in the 1940’s or so, and left specific instructions in his will that nobody will ever be allowed to dig on the property.
Someone had marked some lines on the globe which connected the Oregon Vortex to the Great Pyramid at Giza, the northwest point of the Yucatan Peninsula, through a point on the Texas coast north of Corpus Christi, then through the Tongue of the Ocean, west of South Andros Island, Bahamas, and into the Bermuda Triangle. This was part of a pattern superimponsed by a star tetrahedron on the planet. I don’t remember the rest of it, but I had been very close to the South Andros, Yucatan (I was shipwrecked there six years ago, after a hurricane) and the Texas locations previously. I felt a huge upsurge of energy and realization that there was something valuable for us to do and find in those three places. I have always had a consuming desire to visit the Bahamas in particular.
My introduction to metaphysics came when I became involved with my second wife, Susan, shortly after discovering the zapper. I guess that by curing my lifelong depression with the zapper, it prepared me for seeing the value of energy work. I found that I have an aptitude for making flower essences (by assisting Susan, who is a gifted healer). One of the peculiar characteristics of this metaphysical work is that, though it’s not physically, mentally, or emotionally strenuous, it can still be exhausting. Often, after a few hours of processing the blossoms, we would almost stagger home and into bed for several hours of deep sleep in the middle of the day. That’s pretty typical of any work that involves psychic energy. Getting the munchies can be another effect, and also euphoria. I’m writing this because I can’t sleep after the moonbusting episode yesterday near the secret, underground base west of here. I’m pretty wired, even though I'm tired.
I should also mention that I began working with crystals after being introduced to their effects by James Hughes three years ago, after he and his wife, Rose Mary, worked on me using one of their copper grids. That’s a whole other narrative, but briefly, James has suggested many of the modifications that I’ve made to the basic zapper. His energy credentials were established in 1979 in the instant that he was struck by etheric lightning. Until then, he was a successful Maytag dealer with no background in metaphysical subjects. This is truly a strange and wonderful world. It took him five years to realize that he wasn’t going insane, but had simply been given instructions for his new career (Carol and I feel that the Wingmakers made that happen—James identifies them as Atlantean elders). She says that she realized this after our latest meeting with James and Rose Mary, in Massachusetts earlier this month. Some of the Wingmakers are Atlantean elders—it’s actually impossible for us right now to determine who, precisely, they all are.
On Mt. Shasta, Carol felt an urge to find a sacred spot among the ancient firs near Panther Meadow, which is about half way up the 12,000 ft. mountain. We felt guided to a spot which felt like a shrine—a large boulder with several huge trees arranged in a semi-circle around it. I had brought some folding chairs so we could be comfortable. We set the chairs in the middle of the semi-circle, facing each other, and we both felt and saw some entities who were apparently waiting for us. I saw them as shimmering energy, like moving heat distortions. Carol saw them in more substantial shapes and colors.
At the instant of the equinox, I was looking at Carol & suddenly felt myself being stretched upward, then compressed. She was watching me and started laughing. She later told me she saw me stretch upward, then snap back down into a squashed shape. She had said that there was a ship directly over us which belonged to the entities we were seeing. More recently she has told me that we had both been taken aboard, given information and returned to our bodies in the instant of the equinox. Most psychic people realize that only beneficial races and entities are able to be on or in Mt. Shasta. Many Atlantean artifacts have been found there and in the vicinity. Similar artifacts have come to be associated with the Egyptian culture. Drunvalo Melchizedek has the most comprehensive historical overview of these things that I know about. His work is fun to investigate and he is a personable teacher.
Port Arkansas, Texas
Immediately after the Shasta experience, we realized that we needed to go to the three places I mentioned earlier. Within a couple of weeks we were in Port Aransas, Texas, near the place where the line between the Oregon Vortex and the Yucatan location crossed the Texas coast. I spent a few weeks trying to get our boat seaworthy for the trip to Yucatan and the Bahamas. As it happened, my attempt to go to sea failed in an ignominious capsize. I had successfully crossed the Gulf six years before after extensive preparation and forethought. The first shipwreck then occurred after I had sailed my 19’, open boat through a hurricane for 2 or 3 days, but dragged the anchor afterward and landed on the beach, putting a big hole in the bottom. This time, I suffered from a combination of over-confidence, hurry, and forgetfulness of what the sea can be like.
As we were getting ready to go to Florida for another attempt, the two people who we had befriended in Port Aransas, Charlie and Susan, told us about their favorite place up the coast a little way where a 3,000 year old oak grew. I got a flash that this was what we had come there for. Carol quickly agreed, and our friends took us there the next day. Carol saw the energy dome, which was identical to the Oregon Vortex, from a few miles away. There are no other trees like that in Texas. The Charter Oak, of similar age and located in Austin, had recently been poisoned and killed. Carol said that this tree was suffering because the vortex, whose center was also 50 under the tree, was distorted.
The next day I made my first Holy Handgrenade. I put some quartz crystals in one of the little black boxes we use to make our zappers and filled the box with orgone generating material. We gave it to Susan and Charlie and they put it in the ground next to the tree. Carol, who is able to see vortices remotely once she has visited them, said that the vortex immediately healed and strengthened and that the tree will now be healthy and vigorous again.
Actually, this was the second HHg, but the first one intended for a vortex. I made the first one after Melody told me that there was an entity, perhaps an elemental, that made many people uncomfortable whenever they passed a certain spot not far from her property. Carol felt it was a gnome and I felt a presence there, myself. I made an orgone generator and left it as a gift in that spot, after which Carol and I felt a sense of appreciation and gratitude from the entity. She now thinks it may be a reptilian. Melody now likes the spot and she and Jim bought the property it’s on. Carol and I have come to realize that only beneficial entities actually like orgone. Parasitic/predatory entities seem to suffocate in the presence of strong, healthy orgone.
This is how we sort of fell into the understanding of why a HHg can perpetually keep a location cleared of unhealthy energy in terms of the cooperation of earth elementals, or devas. I suspect that the elementals, like us, have a fairly short attention span for activity that’s not fun, so giving them an orgone generating device provides endless enjoyment to them, thereby holding their attention and inspiring reciprocity, which seems to be an innate characteristic of all sentient beings. I think that others who do energy clearings need to be more aware of what they can do for the devas, rather than the other way around.
We felt a tremendous sense of completion after giving the HHg to Susan and Charlie and then it was time to go.
Fort Pierce, Florida & Don's Bahamas Excursion
After arriving in South Florida we noticed that the energy at the beach was very erratic and a little sickening, and the orgone generator in the Terminator was putting out more energy than usual. We soon realized that this happens whenever there is a lot of deadly and/or dead orgone present. Driving the length of the island that the beach was on we came to a nuke plant about 20 miles south which was responsible for the sick energy field we had experienced. I made another crude HHg and we went right back to the plant and put it in the bushes at the entrance of the facility. Carol said the sickening energy was immediately drawn into the HHg and the sickening field immediately diminished to just outside the building that housed the reactor. We immediately felt better and the field has remained that way ever since (It’s been six months).
Incidentally, lying on the beach we also noticed that a dark little cloud kept forming over one of the apartment buildings nearby. We later identified that as dead orgone, not a real cloud, and attributed its creation to destructive emotions felt and expressed by one or more people in that building. This partly lead to our knowing that a Holy Handgrenade in ones living quarters will guarantee that the unbalanced energy will be transformed and returned to the source as good, balanced orgone, which is rejuvenating, stabilizing and even reduces fear and anger.
We had already learned that orgone generators increase their output of orgone in direct relationship to the strength of the deadly/dead orgone field through which it passes. This is in contrast to what happens when an orgone accumulator encounters an unbalanced orgone field: it absorbs the bad orgone and becomes toxic.
Based on my boating experience in Texas, I further modified the boat by adding floatation around the edges and tried it out in rough Atlantic seas in early December. It came through with flying colors, so I crossed the Gulf Stream a couple of weeks later with the intention of visiting the three spots that Carol had dowsed on the charts. I took the boat there in mid December during a stormy period. The 50 mile trip across the Gulfstream from Miami to Bimini was very rough, but I didn’t even get my shoes wet. The next day on the Grand Bahama Bank, though, was a little different. Due to the shallow water (6 to 20 feet) the seas were very close together and often breaking.
I arrived at the vortex’ center late in the afternoon. I felt very uncomfortable, almost sick with distress. I didn’t want to get close to North Andros Island, another 40 miles to the southeast, in darkness because I wasn’t familiar with the waters there, so I dropped anchor and spent the night. I didn’t sleep because it was just too rough, so after a few hours I pulled the anchor up and prepared to leave. In the process of hauling the anchor on board from the stern, a large wave broke into the boat, swamping it. The boat stayed upright because of the floatation I’d built around the gunwhales, and the engine was dry because I’d put a motor well in the middle of the boat, toward the stern. I knew I didn’t have enough gas to reach Andros at that slow speed and I ran out a couple of miles short of the island and dropped anchor in the calmer water there. Somehow I lost the anchor and woke up after I’d drifted several miles to the south.
By this time, I was so weary and soaked that I didn’t have the energy to put the mast and sail up, so I threw out the other anchor and tried to sleep. The short, steep waves kept breaking into the boat and I bailed constantly for a couple of days before it calmed down enough for me to get my wits together enough to raise the sail. It was easy to reach the shore after that and sail up the coast toward a settlement, but the wind changed to the north. I found a sheltered spot and tied to some mangroves in order to get some good rest. The moon was full and the boat was left high on the beach by its tide—too high to launch until the proper moon phase allowed the tide to come high enough again. I eventually decided to walk the 10 miles or so to Red Bay, the only settlement on the west side of the island, after a passing fisherman stopped to see if I was okay and told me where it was. It’s not on the chart I had, which was lost anyway when the boat got swamped.
I guess I’m writing this because I believe the ordeal was a gift and a lesson and to give more insight into who the writer is. I never felt that I was in danger. I’ve always had a tendency to be a little too mentally oriented. Things like this tend to slow me down and get me in touch with the real world more. I did have an experience with sea sprites during the worst of it. I was able to know when a wave was about to break over me in the boat without looking. On the rare occasions that I was taken by surprise by a breaking wave, I felt the presence of a sea sprite, laughing at me. I know they aren’t human, which explains why they can find humor in our suffering instead of empathy. I’m laughing now but I didn’t see the humor at the time (which is even funnier). Part of the fun of living on this planet is our interaction with elementals. They never take things as seriously as we do. Guy Murchie was fond of saying, “The heaviest star known to man is B-Sirius.”
I had brought about 60 Power Bars and a hand-pumped reverse osmosis device which gets fresh water from seawater. I only drank about a half gallon a day and finished all the Power Bars in the 13 days of the episode. I didn’t have a bowel movement during all that time (should have brought an enema bag). When I reached Stancil Evans’ house in Red Bay at the end of the day long march through intermittent mangrove swamps and along beaches, he graciously offered to let me stay the night and to take me to the boat the next morning with some gas. He wouldn’t accept money, but did accept the Terminators I offered. Bahamians are generally very open minded. Stancil had helped many Cuban and Haitian refugees. His house is the first one on the road from the dock at Red Bay. Now he has a very good business arrangement with some Greek merchants who buy sponges and fish from him. They gave him a very nice ice maker—quite a commodity there.
The next morning I had a BM that made me feel like I was experiencing childbirth. Much later, Carol told me that the labels on the Power Bars state that you need to drink a lot of water when you eat one ;-) I think the seismograph at the University of Florida recorded the landing of the Giant Turd in the Bahamas.
I motored around the island and down the eastern shore to Kemps Bay in the next three days, meeting some very fine people along the way and trading zappers for hospitality. Being a little shy now about open water, I went along the shore in the coastal lagoon, which may have been ill advised, since I holed the hull in 7 places on the coral heads. The holes were in the compartments, so the boat was only half full of water. I had stopped at one of the US facilities on North Andros that maintain the secret base. I didn’t know much about the base at the time, but I was struck by their sense of urgency in sending me on my way and the tight-lipped behavior of the civilians that I met there. The director was very kind and gave me copies of the portions of the charts that covered the Andros shoreline, but made it clear that I wasn’t supposed to be there.
I needed more cash to get back to Florida, so while I waited for the Bank of the Bahamas in Kemps Bay to open (they only open for three hours on Wednesday mornings) I was befriended by Willy Smith, who paid me the highest compliment when he told me “You have the soul of a black man!” He is the one who mentioned the underwater base. He didn’t know it was marked on the nautical charts. I had planned to visit Cuba on that trip and wished to find a traditional healer I could donate the Crowd Zapper to. An engineer told me that I could use the regular zapper circuit with a 12v car battery to zap up to a dozen people at a time and I felt this would be a terrific boon to the rural Cubans, as it would quickly cure every illness they were prone to. The Bahamians are a little too prosperous to use one, it seems to me, as they can afford to buy the single ones. I was strongly warned not to go into Cuban waters without getting a visa first. One woman told me that her brother had drifted into those waters in a storm while fishing and he’s still in prison there.
Another reason I’m writing about this episode (which only remotely relates to the cloudbusting and HHg campaign) is to demonstrate some of Carol’s skills. At the instant that the boat was swamped Carol woke with a start and had a clear image of what was happening to me. She got out the chart and made an X on the exact location, about 5 miles southeast of the center of the vortex. Kashi, the Atlantean, sometime Wingmaker, who joined us on Mt. Shasta in September, went to her and said , “He’s crazy!” Carol said he’d been with me up until that point.
I got back to Florida from my solo trip to the Bahamas on January 12.
Here’s an example of the open-mindedness of people who haven’t been brainwashed as we Americas have been: Some Bahamians told me that one chemtrail jet had spewed it’s poison along the eastern, populated shores of Andros Islands, from north to south, after which most people got a flu. There was an uproar, which was reported in the Nassau newspapers, and the Bahamian government had words with the US Ambassador. After that, I don’t think any more chemtrails were spewed over the Bahamas. One lady who told me this still had the ‘flu,’ which disappeared after she used one of my zappers for an hour or so. People tend to heal quickly there.
My Paradigm Gets Goosed
Before leaving for Atlanta later in January, Carol dowsed that we needed to take three Holy Handgrenades, though it wasn’t clear yet where two of them would go. One was for the nuke plant outside Orlando. By now, I was making them in the characteristic cone shape.
We were unable to get closer than a mile to the Orlando nuke plant. The closest spot was on the perimeter road around a state prison. We stopped outside the north fence of the prison yard and Carol got out and put the HHg into the swamp that surrounded the nuke. The vortex had been wild and was spinning backward, with many smaller, darker swirls coming out the sides in a way that reminded Carol of a Medusa's head.
We’re pretty sure that something besides electric power generatoin has been going on there, especially considering the inaccessibility of the grounds. Within seconds, a very large volume of deadly orgone began funneling into water around the little HHg, the backward spin started slowing down and the auxiliary swirls began to shrink. The response of this one had been much slower than any of the previous vortices we’d encountered. Carol says the spin has since reversed to a clockwise direction. Maybe this is just what happens when a nuke is built on an earth vortex. The human macroparasites seem childish in their irresponsibility by building these things without regard for the harm they may be doing to themselves as well as us.
When we got to Atlanta the next day, Steven mentioned that Al Bielek lives there and that he’d really like to meet him. Carol said,”Why don’t you call him?” Steven found his number in the phone book & called to invite him to lunch, which Al graciously accepted. I had heard Al on the Art Bell program several times and had read about the Philadelphia Experiment and Preston Nichols' account of the work at Montauk, New York. Though it was all intriguing, most of it seemed pretty far out to me, especially the Montauk story. My approach to things like this had been to just withhold belief and disbelief until some corroborating information showed up elsewhere.
I was a little surprised to find that I had a lot of questions for Al about things that he had not discussed on the radio or in his published work, namely the activities surrounding the American military campaign in Antarctica, led by Admiral Byrd in 1947 and some of the other activities of the German secret order that has always financed and operated the facility under Montauk, New York. The 1947 expedition, publicized as a mapping exercize (!) ended in a rout and received no publicity after that, although thousands of combat troups and many Navy fighters and bombers were involved. Al told us that the military was sent to neutralize the Germans who had built a base there. They easily repelled the Americans with very high tech energy weapons and antigravity craft.
He said that the Nazis were not involved in the activities, but that a secret group of Germans had developed and financed this operation in conjunction with the Montauk facility since long before WWII. They had made contact with an alien race who had given them technology. He said that part of their funding came from the plundered train full of Nazi gold which General Patton had ordered an investigation of shortly before his assassination. Though it’s not officially known who took the gold, Al says it was taken by the group that was operating the Montauk facility. Al’s father was apparently a member of that secret group, as was Phil Schneider’s father, the ‘medical officer’ for Project Rainbow (the Phildelphia Experiment) in 1943 and a colleague of Al’s during that time.
He told us a little about his trip into the future aboard the USS Eldridge and his involuntary trip through the CIA’s dedicated portal in one of their underground facilities at Langley, Virginia, to a planet in the B Sirius system through which they throw people they don’t want to deal with but are unwilling or not allowed to murder themselves, like Al. He was the only one ever to be thrown back, apparently. He told us that they pitched him back after he told them that he’s spent time with the Wingmakers when he was propelled to the year 2843 in Project Rainbow. The bad guys are all apparently scared of the Wingmakers. We’ve since discovered why, to our benefit.
Al told us that the B Sirians have been planning to establish colonies here so that they can eat humans—one of the sweet deals made with them by our alleged government. This is no surprise to many of us, considering what they’ve been cooking up with the Chinese alleged government since Nixon’s time and even with Hitler, himself, during the war. Yikes—there’s no doubt in my mind that the alleged US government has only one real enemy, the Constitution and, by extension, the People of the United States.
The night before we met Al, we were visited in the wee hours by a man in an expensive suit, who just opened our locked motel room door and began looking around the room. I sat up in bed and asked him what he wanted, and he excused himself politely, and walked back out. Carol told me he was from the NSA, sent to get a visual image of what we were doing in the room. We had brought our zapper making paraphernalia,which was spread out on a coffee table in front of the couch. I’ve wondered if they knew, before we did, that we’d be seeing Al. Most of the Montauk players like Al Bielek and Preston Nichols, had their memories erased, but they gradually recovered some, if not all of their experiences. Some genuine patriots like Phil Schnieder, were murdered after they began going public with revelations of deep underground bases and secret deals made with negative aliens to sell us down the river. These men were too great a risk to have just signed a secrecy agreement—their memories were erased. Of course this shows the essential stupidity of their former employers, since memory storage is not strictly a function of brain cells, and the brain is holographic, anyway. Big Brother will never achieve his fondest desires because he fails to understand the best and primary part of what makes us human—our spiritual nature. Fortunately for Big Bro, though, we’ve developed a device [the Succor Punch] which can make him experience his own spiritual nature, whether he likes it or not.
Backtracking just a little more, Carol and I had seen two UFO’s north of here (that was just north of the underground base west of Vero Beach) late one night as we were returning from Orlando in mid-December. One was very big, orange and elliptical, the other was much smaller--the size of a small commercial jet, triangular with halogen lights on it. The triangle one was apparently surveilling the orange one and was almost directly over us before the crew noticed our car.
We had gotten off the interstate and driven west on a side road in the direction of the orange ship for several miles when the triangle one showed up. We are assuming that the orange one was huge because, though it was moving to the north very slowly, it was not getting any larger as we approached over a ten minute period, driving over 60mph. When we saw the triangle one, I immediately stopped the car and we got out to get a closer look at it. It slowly turned on its side and moved away from us, making what sounded, to me, like a hushed, sucking sound.
This was just northeast of the base that we were near yesterday during our moon busting exercize. We’re sure it was an American craft, powered by a fusion reactor that generates the electrical field needed to manipulate gravity, as described in The Cosmic Conspiracy by Stan Deyo.
Meanwhile, Back in Atlanta
We were ready to leave town but didn’t know where to put the HHgs. Carol dowsed the map and came up with the two locations: Savannah and Jekyll Island. By the end of the day, we saw the beginning of a new pattern: healing distorted vortices which energize the various evil agendae of the present day alleged world order and their alien fellow predators.
We drove toward Savannah and noticed that smog extended 60 miles from the seaport. We both saw a bright, small UFO on the edge of the smog field, which disappeared after a few seconds. Entering the field, Carol began feeling nauseous and I began feeling irritable. Not surprising, since smog is simply dead orgone.
Carol was unable to find a focal point of the disruptive energy field, though it was strongest at the port facility. She sensed the presence of a great number of grays and B Sirians there who were angry at us and trying to stop us. Carol had never felt sicker than when she was near the port. The field was so huge and tumultuous that Carol was unable to find the source of it. We simply went to where she felt the sickest and put the HHg in some thick bushes there.Carol said the energy started swirling around and funneled into the HHg as though it were being flushed down a toilet. The pulsations which were making her ill stopped immediately. The ET’s were furious & some of them began following us.
Our take on the activity there is that the port is being used to import and distribute the biotoxins which are being sprayed thoughout the country in the form of chemtrails and that they are purchased from China—perhaps one of the major aspects of the Clintons’ dealings, from which the media whores distracted public attention by going after his sex life ad nauseum. Apparently, much more than McDonald’s toys and pirate CD’s can be had for a bargain price in Shanghai these days.
It’s astonishing, but not too surprising when you really think about it, that more people aren’t aware of the chemtrail program. I’ve seen hundreds of these unmarked, white Boeing 707’s on the ground, as well as in the air, all over the US. People are now dropping like flies and/or being debilitated by several ‘new untreatable diseases’, due to the success of a generations-long mental disorientation program- this is considered normal. I am confident that enough people will wake up to stop it before the macroparasites have achieved their aims, which is no doubt the extermination of segments of the world’s population by race-specific biological weapons sprayed in the skies above populations.
I was excited about going to Jekyll Island because I knew that the Federal Reserve Corporation was ‘secretly’ set up there in 1910 and the final phases of the usurpation of the Constitution (the only government supported by the American People) was planned at the same time by the same players—mostly European bankers and their American stooges, including J.P. Morgan. I now believe that every parasitic and predatory scheme of these human oddities is assisted and even inspired by off-world parasitic entities, which these men apparently worship as ‘the devil.’ I’ve heard it said that wealth is not necessarily associated with intelligence
Carol found the wounded vortex at the old Jekyll Island Hotel in which the conspirators had met in 1910. I went into the building and put the HHG into the structure itself, which resulted in more wailing and lamenting by grays and B Sirians. On the way out, we instructed lots of ghosts who were watching us from windows in the mansions surrounding the hotel to go to the light, which Carol said they immediately did. Why do paranormal researchers make these things seem so complicated?
We drove home right after that and spent a couple of days recuperating.
Moonbusting Part 2
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