By Ray Wilson
Silicon Chips with Everything
In April 2020, the UK public was mesmerised by the media. The media, controlled by its editorial mafia, propagated its COVID lies and amplified the threat of COVID-19 from zero to infinity, with 46% of the UK population wanting tougher lockdown measures and the same proportion saying existing measures were about right. People had been clapping for NHS workers every Thursday evening outside their homes since March, and the efforts of those in intensive care units were highlighted on TV news.
I spoke to both of our sons that April about the fourth industrial revolution, about its implications and what it would mean, and I thought they would see what I saw.
“Dad, I can’t listen to this; you helped build this system,” my older son said accusingly. “Digital bar by digital bar until it’s a prison. IOT (internet of things): “Remember that?”
At this point, I think of the birthday cards I once got from my son—you know, the wonderful dad cards. Well, I’ve put the kibosh on that.
“You have been by my side all my life. You have fought my corner through any strife. You are my hero, my wonderful dad, through good times and bad.” I wasn’t a bad dad, but I wasn’t great, and I probably never spent enough time with my sons, but we travelled around the world together as a family. I’m guessing I’ll be lucky if I get a birthday card this year. Fingers crossed with my youngest son; he mostly gets me comical cards. “We want more rights for the elderly; when do we want them? Want what?”
I would not have believed, back in 2020, that governments worldwide—in lockstep—would systematically implement draconian lockdowns, social distancing, and mask wearing in one of the worst travesties of human rights in recent times. Only for us, the plebs on the plantation planet Earth, while the sock puppets partied like there was no tomorrow, having done their masters bidding without a second thought. A sizeable chunk of the world’s population is totally oblivious to the heinous crimes committed in the name of “keeping them safe”. The economic and social repercussions of these measures have been devastating, with small businesses closing down, unemployment rates skyrocketing, and mental health issues and suicides on the rise.
At that time, more than ever, I felt the clonking weight of the electronic chain I forged through my life—the ponderous chain of printed circuit boards that represents my working life. I made it resistor by resistor, capacitor by capacitor, and silicon chip by silicon chip; I did it willingly and of my own free will. My family returned almost penniless from New Zealand in 1969, and by 1975, I had blagged my way into a job as an electronics bench technician. The company manufactured radiotherapy timers for a large corporation, and soon we were building other medical devices, including blood glucose monitors, some of the first commercially available in the UK. The company grew, and we started recruiting. Ejaz joined our team; he was a brilliant organiser. He told us that in 1972, Ugandan President Idi Amin gave him and his family 90 days in which to leave the country. His dad owned a large business and various properties, all of which they had to abandon.
We built a cohesive team and had plenty of laughs and banter. It felt good, and the company prospered. I started to earn better money, and myself, my wife, and our baby boy eventually had the wherewithal to move from our static caravan to an actual house. My wife said to friends that she only married me for the money; you would have to have been there to get the joke. Things were changing, and we were on the up, or so I believed. The electronics business was good to us, and now here we are. On Friday, May 19, 2023, the UK government pledged investments of up to £1 billion in the domestic semiconductor industry. Why now, I wonder? Semiconductors are the “active” components of electronic devices, formed by wafers of silicon that are key to most forms of modern technology, including communication systems, surveillance, digital ID, neurolinks, and biometrics.
My old friend is back in town.
“Jim, how the devil are you?” I ask. “I haven’t seen you for years.”
“I have just gotten back; I could have stayed another month; I wish I had,” he paused.
“What’s happening in our country and in our world, Ray?”
Jim explained to me his rude awakening to the current political climate and how it has affected his perspective on things. He expressed his concerns about the division and polarisation here and around the world that are actively being catalysed by blood money spurting from the predator class. How have borders around the world all become porous? Why is it tolerated? Why is it encouraged? The super rich evade taxes and hoard resources while the rest of society struggles to make ends meet as one pressure is heaped upon another.
He told me about Theranos, a company that I had never heard of that a few years ago reinvented old-fashioned phlebotomy and ushered in a new era of comprehensive, superfast diagnosis and preventive medicine. Theranos requires only a pinprick and a drop of blood to perform hundreds of tests, making them faster, more accurate, and cheaper than conventional methods. The implications were mind-blowing, as people will have an unprecedented window on their own health and be able to head off serious afflictions.
The founder of Theranos was found guilty and sentenced to over 11 years in prison for defrauding investors, and she is currently appealing the convictions.
“It’s in the news, not that you can believe anything the MSM says, but the question is,” Jim says, “Was it actually a sham product?”
“It was totally discredited; of course it was. But was it because it actually worked? We know that the PCR tests are bogus and total nonsense, so is it possible that the Theranos technology would have instantly exposed the COVID fraud?”
“Is that why they shut it down?” Jim mused. “They needed a pandemic of testing, didn’t they?”
“The disgusting lies about asymptomatic spread and fake PCR tests enabled the fiction.” Jim concludes.
“I don’t know about Theranos, but anything is possible; the predator class has limitless finances to buy politicians, corporations, governments, media companies, alternative media influencers, scientists, and doctors, and cook up research papers.” I say.
“What can we do, Ray? If I thought going on protests would help, I would be there with my banners.”
“It helped us, Jim, in the early days of this mass deception; we found that we were not alone and found new and like minded people who are now friends.” I continue, “I believe that we all have been lied to, at school and at university, and we are indoctrinated by the system to be useful debt slaves from birth to death. The ruling psychopaths, who are the useless eaters, are the predator class; they are parasites, and they are running scared. They are desperate to keep what they consider the “idiot masses” mesmerised for as long as possible. COVID is our one big opportunity, and so many now see clearly, for the very first time, the absolute bleeding obvious.”
We need to be brave, not a fellowship of cowards, as cowardly guilt will only increase incrementally day by day. We have all been fooled, and we have been fooled again. People are snared in the trap; they have to pay rent and energy bills, buy food, and want to go on holiday if they can. By keeping schtum, keeping their mouths shut, and towing the line, they believe their lives will continue as normal. We can turn this gargantuan deception around: let’s use the weapons of the globalists against themselves; let’s gather in speakeasies and use our love of humanity to reflect their chronic aggression and their insatiable need to make us dependent on them, to make us live in fear, and to gaslight us. Let’s hold the mirror up to them and see them for what they are. They have no empathy; they have no remorse. They will use any situation to engender fear, split families and communities, spark violence, start proxy wars, or cause plague and famine.
Start locally and build resilient communities. Get to know your environment.
Jim says, “I just don’t recognise my home; the hotel opposite my place is packed with immigrants, immigrants who know nothing of our culture.”
“Yeap, it’s true; what’s worse is that it’s by design,” I say.
The weekly excess death rate is, let’s say, substantially above average; the adverse reactions from the jabs are considered a taboo subject not to be considered a factor; and the UK population remains in the normal range because it’s topped up with immigration. These people want a better life. I have gotten to know some of them. The ones I have spoken to are polite and can engage in conversation.
The great betrayal of our veterans and the wilful blindness to the needs of our indigenous homeless are not oversights; they are intentional prioritisations of the new immigrants by governments around the world.
“Do you think it’s like an unofficial version of the assisted passage scheme?” Jim pauses. “I don’t have hard evidence, he says. I think all governments worldwide may be funding it unofficially to destabilise countries. force indigenous populations to demand action and thereby enable governments to bring in digital IDs for our safety, really? That’s what they wanted all along.”
“Yeap, maybe.” I agree. “Some of the neighbours have commented about the groups of young men jogging around the common doing military style exercises, but still, Jim, I believe; I must believe in the innate good in most humans; normal people just want peaceful lives, food, shelter, and love, whether their operations manual is based on the Bible or not.”
“Jim, we both know what it’s like to be strangers in a strange land—I remember the old days—remember the only Pommy kid and the only Maori kid in our school, all for one, one for all—against the world.” I slapped Jim on the shoulder.
“Or strangers in our own land—Noho kaha,” he says as he walks away.