Tin Foil Hats – The White Rose

By Ray Wilson

It’s Sunday, April 23rd, and I spent a couple of hours walking in the hills with my dog. The grey skies are clearing, and there is a mere hint of the sun breaking through the clouds. My wife is braving the delights of the town below. The frantic construction of 5G towers in early 2020, when all other activities were prohibited, was for a reason. I can remember discussing the topic with my local MP at the time, asking why there was such urgency to build the 5G infrastructure. Why?

In 2020, I had a lot of questions, wrote a lot of letters and emails, and got very few answers. Nobody was prepared to question the UK government’s rollout of 5G. Any concerns about the massive expenditure required to build the infrastructure and the health risks to those living in close proximity to the towers are dismissed as the ravings of tin foil-hat-wearing conspiracy theorists.

As I scan the horizon, I spot a lattice mast—the all seeing eye—on a distant hill. I suddenly think of my dear old friend Fred. Fred was tech phobic and proud of it He died a few years ago, and I miss visiting him at his home nestled in the rolling hills of Dorset, far from the madding crowd. It was a bit of an event—for myself and my wife—a couple of times a year. He would give us tours of local curiosities like T.E. Lawrence’s house in Clouds Hill or the cob and thatch cottage birthplace of Thomas Hardy. Fred had always been convinced that there was a nefarious side to technology. He had heard about the dangers of electromagnetic radiation; his mobile phone was always switched off and only switched on in an emergency, much to the frustration of friends and family.

“You should keep your phone switched on,” they insisted, and they berated him when he was unavailable. Fred had moved from the hubbub of London in the late 1990s to the peace and quiet of Dorset. Fred restricted his use of electronic gadgets to essential items and made sure he used mechanical items whenever he could. Microwave ovens were not a feature of Fred’s kitchen, ever since he discovered that some of the early adopters, chefs for the most part, removed the door and safety cutout so that they could carefully observe the food cooking inside. This resulted in those chefs cooking their insides, in varying degrees, in crucial areas of their anatomies. Fred was not prepared to chance such a fate, no matter how much the manufacturers of the microwave insisted on the “Faraday Cage”, which assured the user of 100 percent safety with the door firmly shut. A Faraday cage is a structure made of conductive material that blocks electromagnetic fields. It is often used to protect electronic equipment from interference as well as people from its harmful effects. Fred was electro-sensitive and became ill if he was ever too close to radio transmitters. People made fun of him and suggested that he should wear a tin foil hat at all times. They remained wilfully blind to the research showing continued exposure to non-ionising radiation causes DNA oxidative damage, disruption of cell metabolism, increased blood brain barrier permeability, melatonin reduction, and glucose metabolism disruption.

There are events happening all over the country today, including the London Marathon and various football matches, and many are televised. All are monitored. Everyone knows it’s the day of the big alert test; they just don’t realise what the test is for. This is a busy day for the 77th Brigade. This is just a compliance test, probably using mostly 3G and 4G, so we can all “relax,” but there are legitimate concerns that, if voiced, are ignored or derided. People are encouraged to feel part of this “event,” but many have no idea of the PSYOP being conducted under the wildly successful guise of keeping you safe. As with masks, social distancing, lockdowns, and injectables, the list of possible psychological operations is limitless. Some people among us secretly long for those balmy, government controlled days.

Smart phone emergency alerts such as:
Ballistic missile threat inbound to London ” Seek immediate shelter. This is not a drill.”
“Curfew in effect from 10 p.m. to 6 a.m.”
“Stay home unless necessary.”
“You are about to enter a disease controlled zone.”
“You need to return to your home address now.”
“You must leave the motorway at the next available exit.”
The levers of manipulation are in place to remove our freedoms and control us—not to keep us safe but to put us in harm’s way. Resist, defy, and do not comply.

So is this why we need these 5G-enabled masts? Many people have tried to engage with the government and its agencies, including Public Health England, to persuade them that their existing policies are harmful to human, animal, and plant health. However, the government rejects such approaches and insists on adherence to the International Commission on Non-Ionising Radiation Protection’s (ICNIRP’s) guidelines. It has removed health concerns from the National Planning Policy Framework, limited the rights of citizens to object to equipment being put on their land, and allowed the proliferation of radio frequency radiation (RFR) gadgets used by babies and children without constraint.

When 5G is bombarded with high frequencies at low, short-range intensities, it will create a denser soup of electro-smog A 1992 study found that frequencies in the range 53–78 GHz (that which 5G proposes to use) impacted the heart rate variability (an indicator of stress) in rats. Since the year 2000, there have been reports of birds abandoning their nests and health issues like plumage deterioration, locomotion problems, reduced survivorship, and death. The declining bee population is also linked to this non-ionising EMF radiation, which reduces the egg-laying abilities of the queen, leading to a decline in colony strength. 5G will add to the effects of this electro-smog.

It’s been a long walk; I have reached the town centre, so I sit down on a bench to watch the world go by.
“That’s a nice looking dog,” a woman says as she sits down. “What is she? She is a she.”
“Yes, she’s a Labrador; well, we are not sure,” I explain. “She’s a rescue; we have been told she’s an Eastern European Labrador cross.
“She’s a lovely looking dog,” she says. “I think she can smell mine; ours is a…” She pauses, “Do you hear that? Are they doing the alarm thing?”
“Have you got your phone?” she asks.
“No,” I reply, “I made sure that I left it at home today.”
She smiled. “My friend told me that we have 97 million mobile connections, 85 million active devices, and 12 million connected things in this country, and that 98% of the adult population has a mobile phone.”
“It doesn’t surprise me,” I say.
“I try not to use my phone; I have one for emergencies, but it’s always switched off, as my friend Fred once recommended I do.”

“My friend is a nurse,” she pauses, “a natural nurse; she’s always telling me about the pineal gland and the damage from Wi-Fi, mobile phones, those towers, and even the chemicals in our water.”
She explains that the pineal gland, also known as the third eye, is a small endocrine gland located in the centre of the brain. It plays a role in regulating certain hormones, including melatonin, and controlling circadian rhythms, and she believes that it has a direct connection with a higher power or deity.
“I think there’s a lot of truth in that.” I say.
“It’s a concerted attack on our nature, on our spirituality.” I conclude.
“Nice talking,” she says, looking at her watch. “I had better get my shopping done before they close.”
“I always use cash these days; I rarely carry a card ever since I went into that supermarket,” she pointed at the offending structure, “ and the card reader read the card in my purse, ignoring the card I presented.”
“Why did the card reader send radio waves into my purse?” She frowned.
“Probably a ruse to introduce biometrics for our “safety,” but in reality a digital control mechanism,” I suggest.
“They said in theory it was impossible for it to work over that distance, but admitted it occasionally happens with these RFID chips. I don’t trust the things.” She opens her trolley.
“Look!” She smiled conspiratorially and got a silver purse out of her bag. “It’s a faraday purse; it blocks RFID scanning; it’s my backup card.”

My wife tells me later of a conversation she had with a fellow shopper.
She was talking about the emergency test alerts.
“Did you get yours?” she said to my wife. “I heard it; a bit of a damp squib, I thought.” My wife followed up with a categorical ”No, I don’t own a phone.”
“That’s incredible,” she says. “I don’t know anyone who doesn’t have a phone, and I know a lot of people.”
“There you go, I am the one in a million,” my wife says.
“Sometimes I wish that I hadn’t gotten one,” she says to my wife. “I feel like I am being stalked.”
My wife looks at the young woman with growing concern.
“No, no, she says quickly. Nothing like that, not a boyfriend or anything.”
“I feel it’s our government that’s stalking me.” She explains, “I know it sounds bonkers, but unwanted phone calls, texts, monitoring, surveillance, and now threats to control my freedom of movement and my personal life with this alert thing—it’s stalking, isn’t it?”