By Ray Wilson
A little faith
The engine rebuild project on the motorcycle combination is going to take a good couple of days.
It’s very early, still misty, and my brother Rich has set up the ramps to support the motorcycle and sidecar while we take it to pieces.
“I have organised all the tools,” explains Rich, pointing to the array of spanners, wrenches, Allen keys, and assorted sockets, plus neatly marked-up plastic boxes to receive the various nuts, bolts, and mechanical paraphernalia.
As we gather our tools and Rich puts on his work gloves, I can’t help but feel a sense of excitement mixed with anticipation. My hound races around the garden before settling down under a tree to observe us from a safe distance.
“Better put a few newspapers down to stop the oil dripping on the floor,” Rich nudges me, pointing to the headline in The Evening Standard on September 27, 2023.
“Anti-vax conspiracists believe a phone alert will trigger a zombie apocalypse, Q Anon is behind the rumour, with UK conspiracy theorists also worried about 5G and vaccines.”
“That really would spoil our day,” I say. The sun slowly starts to rise, casting a warm glow on the garage, signalling the beginning of our challenging yet rewarding endeavour.
“So what’s the plan?” Rich asks, pointing at the headline.
“Same ole, I suppose,” I stifle a yawn. “They tell us actually what they are going to do, but all the time gaslighting us, name-calling, and making examples out of anybody in the public eye who dares to dissent, especially any prominent scientists who point out the absolutely bleeding obvious, and when it happens, it will of course be blamed on some deadly new variant.”
“A bit like ignoring the tsunami of adverse reactions up to and including death from the so-called ‘vaccine’ and blaming the resultant sickness and disability on, well, anything else.”
“People cannot believe that their governments do not love them,” I conclude.
“The Nuremberg code is clearly forgotten,” Rich says as he hands me the wrench. “Battery out first, dropping the rear wheel, and swinging next along with the brake calliper.”
The Nuremberg Code is a ten-point statement of ethical principles delineating permissible medical experimentation on human beings. It can only be justified if the results benefit society and satisfy moral, legal, and ethical concepts; who decides what constitutes a benefit may be a moot point.
The code’s foremost requirement is that of “voluntary informed consent.” This concept was wilfully ignored during the global rollout of the “so-called” COVID vaccines and associated “boosters” and endless sorcery, resulting in further pharmakeia injectable and atomized concoctions in many cases still being administered without “voluntary informed consent.” The Nuremberg Code helpfully points out that unnecessary pain and suffering must be avoided and that “doctors should avoid actions that may cause harm and not conduct experiments that may cause disabling injuries or death.”
By lunchtime, we had removed the side panels, petrol tank, carburettors, crash bars, and some of the engine and gearbox mounting bolts.
“Ray, look at this,” Rich dangles the clutch cable, “down to just three strands—that could have gone at any time on your Dorset trip—you are damn lucky.”
“Better to be born lucky than mired in riches, as mum used to tell us.” I smile as I think of her.
Dad has ventured up the path. “How’s it going?” He says. “Are you both ready for a break?”
I watch him as he hobbles back down the path.
We grab our coffees and talk about the technical possibilities of EMF and how humans are the fourth state of water and are easily imprinted by frequencies.
“You tried imprinting water, didn’t you?” Rich asks.
“Yes, it’s amazing. I tried various frequencies, pure water, and “tap” water—dirty water corrupts the symmetry of frequencies embedded in it—just put dishes of water in a freezer and see the images emerge.” Rich raises an eyebrow, intrigued by the concept. “That’s fascinating,” he says. “I wonder what other applications this could have in the future.” I nod in agreement, contemplating the potential implications of this discovery beyond just frozen water images.
“Well, Royal Raymond Rife used certain precise frequencies to destroy pathogens—this is established science, not a conspiracy theory,” I say, “another brilliant scientist to be discredited and destroyed by the ‘establishment’”.
“It’s another tool that can be used for good or for ill,” says Rich. “We had better get this lump back in before it gets dark.” As we finish our conversation, I can’t help but feel a sense of urgency. The sun is starting to set, casting long shadows across the path.
Many attempts have been made over the last century, including those by Raymond Rife, to successfully treat cancer using tuned oscillators with low-level electric and magnetic fields. Recent studies and in vitro investigations have shown that tumour-specific frequencies are capable of blocking the growth of tumour cells.
“Is there a zombie apocalypse activated by 5G towers on the way?”ray In a message uploaded at the end of September, the Q Anon influencer behind the Telegram channel The Patriot Voice, which has over 50,000 followers, wrote: According to the message, COVID-19 vaccinations include “sealed pathogens” such as E. coli bacteria and the viruses Marburg and Ebola, all of which can be released at an “18 Gigahertz (5G) frequency.”
“FEMA intends to conduct a ‘test’ of the EAS on October 4 or 11 at 2:22 PM.” “I would disable all 5G devices,” the author stated. Similar claims have been made regarding a test alert that will “activate” dangerous diseases in vaccinated people, as well as cautions to switch off phones. Viewed hundreds of thousands of times on X.
The 5G network, an evolution of 4G, is rolling out globally this year, offering download speeds of up to 10 gigabytes per second. We are told that this is a significant improvement from 4G’s 300 megabytes per second. Economic forecasters predict this will benefit businesses and the public, paving the way for artificial intelligence and self-driving cars. Don’t you just love it when a plan comes together?
By mid-morning the following day, the motorcycle was back together. The hound is at home with the missus today while we complete the mission.
“Switch on the ignition,” Rich says. “Now try starting it.”
There is a dull metallic click, and nothing happens. Rich frowns and checks the battery earth connections, realising they are loose. After tightening them, he instructs, “Give it another try.” This time, the engine roars to life, filling the air with a satisfying rumble. We exchange triumphant grins; our hard work seems to have paid off.
Whatever happens, trust in God. Trust in your spider sense, your sixth sense, or your intuition, know that you were meant to be here at this time. We all have our part to play; know that we are strong and that we are on the right side of history. As we bask in the success of our efforts, a sense of gratitude washes over us. We realise that sometimes all it takes is a little faith and intuition to overcome challenges. We are spiritual beings, not AI clones. With renewed confidence, we embark on our journey, knowing that we are capable of conquering any obstacle that comes our way.
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