Something Is Intentionally Dropped On Us From Above

By Ray Wilson

“Power will gravitate into the hands of those who control information. This will encourage tendencies through the next several decades towards a technotronic era dictatorship, leaving even less room for political procedures as we know them. Finally, looking ahead to the end of the century, the possibility of biochemical mind control and genetic tinkering with man, including beings that will function like men and reason like them as well, could give rise to some difficult questions.”

Zbigniew Brzezinski’s ominous prediction in his book “The Technotronic Era”, circa 1970, has come to fruition. Power has indeed gravitated into the hands of those who control information, and these new rulers sought to consolidate their dominance through unprecedented means. The masses, distracted by the allure of constant connectivity and artificial intelligence, remained blissfully unaware of the looming threat.

HAARP, the High-frequency Active Auroral Research Project. It’s not a musical instrument designed to play anything divine or harmonic. HAARP was developed by the Atlantic Richfield Oil Company, although the Anglo American government prefers to call it an experimental atmospheric heater, which is ultimately controlled by a bunch of elites, their subordinates, and the banking cartel. The British Monarchy occupies the central position linked to HAARP, and it’s several nefarious undertakings.

We are surrounded by electromagnetic frequencies.

Is it possible, using 5G beamed directly into our DNA, that this is the mechanism of disease induction? They wouldn’t do that, would they?

The mechanism for population control depends on targeting each individual.

With the use of personalised codes showing genetic predispositions, could a disease or diseases be activated by these signals? The most important risk factors posed by illness producing lifestyles are environmental toxicities and the aerosolized catalysts of disease, including multiple so called vaccinations. . Many of us are only just becoming where our ancient civilisations were—not backward primitives but indeed thriving and highly evolved communities free of disease.

Conspiracy theorists suggest that the heart programme could be used for covert military purposes in mind control, where the modification or ability to start earthquakes and fires HAARP could then be responsible for many Environmental effects and devastation from the radio waves harming the ionosphere and affecting animal migration patterns.

It’s quiet in my dad’s village, and although it’s still early, heat is in the air. Yesterday, we—the missus, me, and the hound—travelled back towards London, leaving the curative embrace of Cornwall far behind. We had spent several days there, taking photographs, some showing the lattice work of geoengineered skies. The motorcycle combination has developed some rather concerning squeaks that need urgent attention—my missus is busy on a rescue mission of her own.

“How’s it going, Rich?” I ask as he hobbles out to greet us. Rich smiles weakly, his face showing signs of pain. “Not great,” he replies, “the haematoma is really acting up today.” I nod sympathetically, knowing that the pain must be unbearable for him. My hound sniffs at his leg and whimpers.

“I have been trying to rest up, but I was up crack of dawn—they were out crisscrossing the skies with gloopy toxins again.” Rich looks exasperated.

“I was puking up a couple of days before we left for Cornwall—I felt like I had been poisoned—the missus was coughing all night before we left.”

“Something going around?” Rich speculates.

“More like something that’s dropping down—intentionally dropped on us from above,” I reply. Rich’s eyes widen in realisation as he looks up at the sky, a mix of concern and anger evident on his face. “Chemtrails,” he mutters under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief. I feel a sense of unease settle over me as I glance up at the hazy streaks left behind by passing planes, wondering what else might be falling from above.

All around quiet villages, suburban towns, and bustling cities, life goes on as usual. People move to their preordained routines, oblivious to the insidious plan being woven above their heads.

The air above us still seemed crisp, but swirling white trails made the sky progressively less clear. Hidden within the atmosphere was a silent weapon—an aerosolized cocktail of compounds forming a toxic sky.

“You think that they are dropping nano particulates, Ray? Strontium or graphene oxide.”

“Maybe, but for what purpose? It effects them as well as us, doesn’t it?”

“To control the minds and bodies of humans or augmented humans,” Rich says.

“Did they use the fake PCR tests as a way of harvesting sacred spirals of DNA? The human genome project: a database containing unique, hackable codes—every individual’s weakness exposed—who knows?”

“It’s no coincidence that 5G towers are popping up like contagious rash-wetware, i.e., humans are easily visible to surveillance systems if they are full of graphene oxide.”

Rich has laid the shock absorbers out, ready for the repair job on the motorcycle combination.
“I will have to leave you to it; I can’t put too much pressure on my leg.”

“Sure thing, you rest up; it should be straight forward,” I reply. Rich nods, grateful for the understanding. “I’ll give you a shout if I run into any trouble,” I say.

The key to their plan lay in graphene oxide, a material with extraordinary electrical properties. In its aerosolized form, could it be dispersed into the atmosphere and inhaled by unsuspecting populations? Once inside the body, it would bond with neural pathways, effectively allowing external manipulation of thoughts and emotions. This biochemical mind control is the pinnacle of their ambition—a way to ensure unwavering loyalty and obedience.

The aerosol dispersion is ingeniously covert. Disguised as routine weather modification programmes, toxins are released through high-altitude jets to induce another “Plandemic.” The public, conditioned to trust scientific advancements, will not question the frequent appearances of contrails in the sky. Little do they know, these trails carry the very particles that enslave their minds. Biochemical mind control and genetic tinkering with humanity raise profound ethical dilemmas. The technotronic era, once seen as a beacon of progress, reveals itself as a dystopian nightmare where freedom and individuality are sacrificed on the altar of control.

Rich hobbles back up the path. We both looked up at the sky; the hazy streaks of chemtrails were now a symbol of oppression. As the world marched forward into this dark future, the struggle for truth and freedom became more critical than ever. The toxic skies were not just a symptom of environmental decay but a harbinger of a controlled, manipulated humanity.

“How are you doing, Ray?”

“Okay, I am almost there with the shock absorbers; I just need to fit the new brake pads, and the job is a goodun.”

“Have you torqued up all the suspension bushes?” Rich asks as he hands me the torque wrench.

“Good point, Rich, thanks—that will teach me to daydream.” Rich laughs, “No problem, just making sure you don’t end up with a bumpy ride later on.” I smile and get back to work, grateful for his attention to detail. The hound runs up and down, trying to get Rich’s attention to throw the ball.

“Sorry, girl, no can do.” I’ll get the kettle on. Maybe some biccies for you as well, doggie.” He says this as she follows him into the kitchen.

“Rich told me you are getting your old geiger counter out, Ray.” Dad says this as I stand by the kitchen sink, washing the grease off of my hands.

“I’m thinking of documenting the relationship between artificial skies and monitoring radiation levels over time at fixed locations and looking for variations after it rains.”

“Date stamped video, photographs, and radiation levels in real time.”

“It sounds like one of your old projects,” dad says, stirring his tea. Rich nods, a smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, it’s been a while since you delved into that kind of research.” Rich chuckles,

“All right, for barium or strontium, what about the graphene oxide, aluminium, and polymer fibres?”

“I know, it feels hopeless sometimes—HAARP creating domes of artificial high temperatures and frying isolated areas and ice nucleation in others using graphene oxide,” I say.
Rich stares into his tea. Dad looks concerned. “It’s a lot to take in, but at least you’re staying informed and aware.”

Rich nods. “Yeah, knowledge is power, so why does history keep repeating itself?”

“Useful idiots doing it to earn a crust—we were just following orders, sir.”

“Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing,” dad quotes.

The phone rings in the lounge, and Rich goes off to answer it.

“I got a cryptic message from your missus. She said to tell you, The fish are safe.” Rich looks at me quizzically.

“Frohike’s fish—they have padlocked up his old caravan; there’s no one to feed them—so she has rescued them.”

The fallibility of being human is perhaps the asset that will save us—knowing that there is a high quota with a propensity towards idiocy steering us into the abyss, and as we stand on the edge of the precipice, the useful idiots cannot comprehend their destruction or that of their family—perhaps their shortcoming—their inability to follow orders will be the very thing that saves us all. As we navigate this delicate balance between progress and self-destruction, it is imperative that we recognise the value of human error in preventing catastrophe. Our survival may ultimately depend on the very flaws that make us human; a global awakening may guide us away from the brink of annihilation.