Juicing at the Devil's Punchbowl, Part 2
Five Earthpipes for the Devil's Hole ;-)
From Don Croft <firstname.lastname@example.org >
August 10, 2004
We just left Lilly Ochescu in Las Vegas, having made sure that she's going to be okay and that Constantin is about to sue the satanic black robes off of Judge Gregori and the peaked hat, truncheon, armband, jackboots and black fascist tunic off of Arresting Officer Kyprios, plus suing various and sundry other kidnappers and extortionists in the Las Vegas 'justice' system.
Lilly and Constantin are in that crunch zone, initiation period, when all we have to go on is our personal faith and friendship and she deserves all of our energy support right now. I bet you remember when you've experienced similar initiation periods and also recognize that we all get them from time to time along this spiritual path. This the part which isn't funny, of course.
It's time for all of these personal sovereignty aficionados around the US and Canada to get some publicity and public support, I think, and I intend to be one of them before long. Carol said the CIA induced Kyprios to arrest Constantin in order to stop him from educating me and DB, who will contribute to this report, notes that the same old guy in the NSA who is behind most of the assassination and mayhem plots in the western world has also initiated this interference. Your dance card will be full again by the time we two get our reports posted on http://www.ethericwarriors.com/, then on http://educate-yourself.org, folks ;-)
About ten percent of the people who read my articles and write to me say they want to live in true freedom now, so this opportunity to broadcast the information about personal sovereignty is surely timely. Five years ago, about one in a hundred of the people I correspond with expressed that desire.
Here's something that most of the Etheric Warriors know from direct experience: in order to gain a better understanding of who we are, we need to stand up for our rights by actively fighting tyranny. Slaves can grouse about government oppression/corruption, mind control, death towers, chemtrails, the Gulag, ad nauseum, until the cows come home and they won't be punished for that but when you and I actually start to do something about it we come face to face with the entire hierarchy of vindictive minions of the occult world order, both human and less than (not-so) human.
Watching Lilly and Carol together was an inspiration for me. I spent much of the last four days getting Ethericwarriors.com up and running after Steeve Richard generously set the thing up for us all and the two women worked together nonstop in the etheric realms. On Sunday, they did such a good job of keeping the felonious feds and the licentious Las Vegas cops off our scent that I was rather bored, in fact, and it felt a little like baseball to me, as my day in the backseat was only punctuated by some naps and some feverish physical activity (knocking earthipes into the hard ground at underground base sites). The only real sacrifice I made that day was to get a blister on my left hand.
Lilly absorbed and mastered every technique that Carol had to offer and next time the two female warriors get together it will no doubt be more of the same. We only had a chance to spend a couple of hours with Constantin on the day we arrived in Las Vegas and he mentioned that Vlad the Impaler of Transylvania, where Lilly's dad was born, constributed significantly to the bloodline of the present European nobility. I then fancied myself a sort of Vlad the Impaler for the feds but Sensei Dennie feels that a more appropriate appellation for me might be 'Vlad the Impala,' because of the way I bound around the countryside, just out of their reach. Sensei's a bona fide sword master and Lilly, as I mentioned, is a karate blackbelt.
She was astonished when she met me because my writing style gave her the impression that I'm a pugnacious, perhaps very vocal person and in fact she said, I seemed more like a good (no cholic?) baby ;-). Everyone who meets me after reading my stuff has a similar obvservation. Really, I'm more like Woody Allen than Bruce Willis.
We brought along a pile of earthpipes to cancel out a few underground bases on our way home. As I'm writing this, we're heading north on US95 from Las Vegas, having made a detour, through Pahrump, to Devil's Hole, which is a frightfully hot little spot on the edge of a big oasis area on the eastern outskirts of Death Valley.
There isn't a whole lot to tell, except that the surrounding area was 110 degrees, Fahrenheit but as we approached the little volcanic butte that hosts Devil's Hole (a hole in the ground at the base of the butte) the temperature climbed 12 degrees within a half mile and the new Jeep began overheating for the first time, ever.
I jumped out of the car and put three earthpipes in the ground close to the the Old Villain's hole while Carol drove up the road a hundred yards or so to turn around. Each time she stopped the car the temperature gauge pegged out in the red zone and she said that the reptilians and draconians underground were furious at us, spinning enormous amounts of DOR at the car's engine in hopes of stranding us there, miles from anyone.
The confirmation that we had picked the right target was in the form of three tiny lenticular clouds, alone in the desert sky just over that spot. We saw them from 15 or 20 miles away and they kept shifting their position, then merged together as we approached the drop zone. They then moved west, into the prevailing desert wind, and Carol said they were telling her to stick two more earth pipes into the ground and to toss out a half dozen or so of the towerbusters which Lilly had donated for our trip. We had put five TBs closer to the hole/butte. Carl said the underground minions were furious but of course impotent. Right now, the only place they can physically harm us is underground, mostly.
We passed by some enormous dust devils on our way out of there, stirred up by draconian wrath, according to Carol. We had to drive about ten miles along a poorly maintained gravel road to get to the drop zone in the first place, so it was a tedious drive back out of there.
Here's an example of how following the advice on www.ethericwarriors.com can pay off, by the way. If any geographical feature in your area has the word 'devil' or 'hell' attached to it, assume that it's in dire need of your orgonite gifts. These names are apparently not accidental or whimsical, with the possible exception of Hell, Nevada, perhaps ;-)
You might be wondering just how many pipes one can fit in the Devil's Hole ;-) but I don't believe in devils.
As we drove away from the hole, this afternoon, the temperature outside immediately dropped back down to 110, of course, and the car stopped overheating. I thought that making the air and our car's engine heat up was a pretty good trick. Give the devil his due, eh? ;-)
Travelling north on US95 from Beatty, Nevada (on the junction of 95 and the highway leading up out of Death Valley), we saw three weather balls on mountain tops east of the highway, all of which are on land that allegedly belongs to the federal government, assigned to Nellis Air Fore Base for bombing practice but really, just another excuse to put in massive underground bases. We had gifted one of the big underground base vents by the edge of Hwy 95, almost three years ago during our first gifting mission to Death Valley, but this time we put three earthpipes around it. If anyone reading this has the opportunity to get over that way and has some orgonite to spare, it might be that gifting these weatherballs, which seem to be accessible by paved road, would be a big service to the region and may contribute to reversing the desert here. These are fairly new, by the way.
We know there's plenty of moisture in the atmosphere because much of the desert of Nevada is covered with green in August, thanks to the cloudbusters and other orgonite around the Western US. Until recently, due to long term HAARP-induced drought, the whole region looked like it had just experienced a nuke strike. Mt Charleston, just outside of Las Vegas, has an ancient pine forest and the ground is covered with thick, green grass. 'Las Vegas,' means, 'the meadows,' and was named by the early Spanish explorers, apparently just before the occult world order, likely via the genocidal, sourpuss Jesuits, induced desertification in this region, partly through ritual human sacrifice and genocide.
Carol, Ryan, DB and I were in Devil's Punchbowl nine days ago and I'm a little handicapped by the fact that those three are energy sensitives and quite psychic, while all I can do for most of that episode is to report what they told me and to bear witness to the bizarre features of most of the 'people' who were around us that day. When DB straggled out of the desert he was unable to articulate what he had experienced but this morning on the phone he practically demanded that I post the second installment of my report so that he could fill in all the blanks; so get ready for a treat after you read this, okay? DB's approach has that scary/enlightening aspect that can't be imitated or equalled. I'm really glad that he's gotten his own site, www.ethericfire.com , outside of anyone else's control but his, and that he's posting freely on an internet board again (www.ethericwarriors.com)
The guy knows Greek, Latin and Aramaic, maybe even Amharric, but he doesn't know HTML (thanks from all of us, Steeve, for helping him out with that!)
Wow-as I'm writing this, we just saw one of those vans full of fat CIA ninjas roaring along a desert dirt road, parallel to this highway, going around 90 to 100mph. Carol says they're looking for us ;-)
The van has just spun out onto the paved highway, about a half mile ahead of us, and went north at that speed. I asked my wife to get into their heads after I sensed a wave of fury coming from that direction and she said they're thinking, 'They've GOT to be here somewhere!' Since leaving Las Vegas around noon (It's 5 PM now) we passed half a dozen fedboys on the road, including a couple of CIA Special Agents In Charge who didn't see us, along with the same number of cops who were looking for us. It's fun but a little creepy to watch these guys looking frantically all around as we pass them.
I restrained myself from offering the universal gesture of unsympathetic recognition (a rhythmic arm/hand gesture indicating the futility of espionage, the word for which rhymes with 'perturbation'). In fact, Carol spots the spooks from a mile away, usually, and I can tell that she often doesn't like to offer me that information because she knows I'll just roll down the window, lean out and extend that gesture to them when they get close enough not to be able to pretend they don't see me.
They're just about out of sight now. I really shouldn't discuss her invisibility technique on the net (if we give them the info, they'll figure out how to counter it) but I'll continue to share it with the warriors we meet in 3D, don't worry. It's not likely that you're going to make these guys as mad as we do, so you won't have to contend with Chris Farley evil-twin types. DB told her this morning that she's using 'an old yogi technique,' when she hinted to him about it but I never heard old Yogi Berra say anything about this. I have faithfully followed his advice, otherwise, though, which is why, 'Whenever I come to a fork in the road, I take it.'
Whoops! Another cop car, followed by a fedboy, just raced by us in from the opposite direction ;-)
We just saw another fat-ninja van racing along on the other side of the highway on a dirt road, also going north. He's just now turning onto the highway in front of us.. We'd just popped another couple of earthpipes onto the vast underground base we're driving over, so it's no wonder that they're kind of frantic. They know we're doing it. I don't mind stepping out into 100 degree sunshine to pound these things in the ground, but you can bet these guys in body armor and body fat aren't really pleased about their jobs today (Sunday is apparently their 'Day of Recovery') and would like to vent their frustration on Idaho's Number One Terrorist ;-)
They don't know we're driving over into California to undo their 'pediatric' Monarch mind control facility under Mono Lake, of course. They apparently think we're going straight to Reno because we were on the phone this morning with Reno Richard's DOR-busting compadre, Kitchie. ;-)
Wow-these ninja vans are all over the desert now! We can see for many miles around and they're raising so much dust out there that it looks like the Seventh Cavalry is looking for Geronimo. One of them seems to have just come right up from underground. If it weren't for a little streetsmarts and The Operators unfailing protection and guidance, we'd be scared right now.
In this area, you can see giant molehills all over the landscape, obviously pushed up from underground. DB favors making it rain in all the deserts now because he feels it would flush them all out like rats.
Okay, enough of that-let's talk about what happened at the Punchbowl after Rocky, that nice desert dweller who rescued the fellow, brought DB up to the parking lot, nine days ago.
Ryan and DB had spent several hours walking uphill toward the park facility, which they had intermittently seen, less than a mile away along the canyon but kept finding themselves back at the bloodstained altar stone where Lawrence Rockefeller took his last breath, two weeks before that.
They apparently decided that the only way to break that cycle was to walk downhill, instead, away from the place where Carol and I were waiting for them.
All this time, we were treated to a freakshow in the parking lot, of course. I don't mean to denigrate genuine human oddities, of course; these were coarse imitations of human beings and they all hung around in the 105 degree summer heat for several hours, obviously just to seek opportunities to get close to my wife, who was desparately trying to contact DB and Ryan, telepathically. Some grisly images of the fellows' demise were occasionally planted in her mind but otherwise she mostly saw them steadily trudging uphill, which of course indicated that they were heading our way. I just figured that they'd gotten off the path, which wasn't much of a problem in this case.
After four hours of waiting, DB stumbled out of an offroad vehicle, covered with sand, with torn clothes, a shower shoe on one foot and a torn sock on the other, delirious and unable to walk without support. When we left the house that morning, he'd told his family that we'd be back in time to take them to the beach in the afternoon and when I saw that he was starting down the trail at Devil's Punchbowl with rubber thongs on his feet, I remember thinking, 'Great-I really don't feel like taking a rough hike in this desert heat! This is obviously an easy trail, or DB wouldn't be wearing thongs." The sign at the top of the well-groomed trail said it was a loop, 1 mile long. It looked like one could do it on crutches.
After we left the trail at the bottom it got a little rough, though, and we had to get over some huge, tumbled boulders to get to the Illuminati/Jesuit ritual murder site. We passed a yuppie-looking couple, whom DB immediately said were CIA watchers, and he and Carol said that the various lenticular and other weird clouds just over us were loaded with assorted evil empire spacecraft which were beaming us with all their might. The CIA folks pretended to go the other way, but began following us as soon as we were out of sight. As we blasted them, they began talking loudly but they stayed out of sight. They weren't there to harm us, after all. We were entering a soured vortex which had been turned into a hyperdimensional portal, of course, and DB is going to directly relate what he and Ryan encountered in that dead zone after Carol and I returned to the parking lot.
[Hey! We're now driving over Montgomery Pass on our way to Mono Lake and we saw a herd of mustangs!]
As I mentioned in the first installment, the only living things we saw on the way down were flies. DB treated us to some of the traditional descriptions of devils along the way. He said that Beelzebub was known as 'Lord of the Flies,' and was depicted as a giant, sitting infant, covered with flies.
The only other creature I saw was a long snake that moved ahead of us at an extraordinary speed in the direction of the altar, soon after we left the path (and the neo-yuppies). I wondered out oud what that meant but nobody commented.
The beaming from the ships had become so severe that Carol was unable to walk upright without assistance and she nearly fell from the narrow path along a moderate cliff, so we all decided that she had to go back and that I had to take her. In fact, she'd already started to topple when DB, who was next to her, grabbed her hand.
Those roiling lenticular clouds stayed in that position for several hours and were probably mostly responsible for the hyperdimensional interference of DB's and Ryan's return trek then.
At around 5:30PM, the clouds disappeared and at the same time, everyone but the two most creepy looking waiting guys and a 'family' in a minivan, next to our Jeep, left the parking lot in their vehicles. The two County Park employees had left early that day, by the way-at around 4:30. Carol felt that the abrupt departure of the creepshow's coincidence with the departure of the ships above the vortex, which had already begun to spin the correct way from all the gifting, was ominous and the only phone number we had for DB was for the cellphone in his pack, not his landline phone at home, so part of our frustration came from our inability to call his wife.
A half hour after the strange ones left, Rocky drove into the lot with DB and said, Get this guy some water, quick!
I helped him into our Jeep, gave him a couple bottles of water, started the motor and turned the air conditioning on. He wasn't very articulate but managed to let us know that Ryan was still in the canyon, perhaps hurt, and that we had to find him before dark, otherwise he'd be murdered.
Carol went to the payphone and called the Sherriff Department, who immediately dispatched a rescue party; I followed Rocky to his home, a couple miles down the road from the park facility. By the time we parked, DB, who was pretty severely banged up from falling down and otherwise receiving some supernormal rough treatment on the way out of the canyon, was at least coherent enough to point in the direction where Ryan was waiting.
Rocky walked with me to one of his neighbor's property, a quarter mile away, which had a commanding view of that part of the canyon and from there, we spotted Ryan, about a half mile away, walking toward the area where DB was waiting. We were able to get his attention and indicated that he wait for me there.
Rocky walked back home to be ready for the arrival of the rescue party and by the time I walked around to the spot near the cliff where we saw Ryan a helicopter had arrived overhead and a Sherriff Deputy, led by Rocky, had come to where I was.
On the way to that spot, I was bitten by a rattlesnake and the wound was bleeding. I had a sense that I was going to be fine, so I continued on around the giant sandstone outcrop to find Ryan (and the two other fellows) and when I got back to the Jeep I was going to put my zapper on the snakebite to take care of the poison, which is what happened.
We got within a hundred feet of Ryan but were unable to scramble down the short cliff. The helicopter had arrived and the deputy was in radio contact with it. Ryan clearly didn't want to get into the chopper but, since I couldn't hear him and assumed that he wasn't fit enough, at the moment, to climb the cliff, I gestured my advice to let the guy who was dangling from the chopper just pick him up. Ryan agreed, and the three of us returned to Rocky's place.
I was grateful for the Sherriff Department's rescue party but was a little unprepared to find that a half dozen cop cars were in the driveway, too.
DB was fit enough, by then, to drive the Jeep back to the parking lot but I was in a hurry to get back to Carol, so I asked one of the cops to take me up there right away, as the gaggle of cops were apparently not in a hurry to unblock the dirt driveway and let the Jeep out first. We'd all heard three gunshots in the canyon before the rescue got underway and I was pretty sure Carol would be wondering what was what.
I guess I should have felt intimidated but I honestly felt that I was in control of the situation, which probably sounds strange at this point. Two cops got in front and I was locked in the backseat. They asked me a lot of questions during that short trip, which I didn't answer directly, and the driver had dark glasses and seemed particularly cold. Carol and DB later said that he's a full reptilian and wears the glasses because he was having a hard time keeping his irises from turning into slits ;-)
Forcing reptiles to reveal their true features is the new sport, by the way. You heard it here first!
When we got to the parking lot there was another congregation of cop cars and rescue vehicles. One would assume that a busload of preschoolers had wandered of into the desert and needed succor, even though Carol had clearly said on the phone that only one man was out there and that we had a good idea of where he was. I got out of the car and saw Carol, in the middle of a group of cops. She seemed non-plussed to me, then , but she told me later on that one of the cops, another full reptilian, had tried to goad her into striking him by telling her that she wasn't allowed to join me at Rocky's place. In California, just like in communist China, even a rude word or gesture toward a cop can get you beaten to a pulp and then thrown in jail and that was obviously what the reptile was aiming to cause Carol to do. He knew that to stand between her and her man was pretty much guaranteed to at least get him cursed and shoved.
That kind of reminds me of another technique of manipulation that's often used to put someone off balance: when an individual or group wishes to make a person of integrity appear to be a scoundrel or sociopath, they'll insinuate that the person is guilty of certain imaginary transgressions and/or character flaws and will spread this calumny in private conversations with others, while feigning friendship with the intended victim, usually through flattery. Ordinarily, the target will at some point react in his own defense, accusing the instigators of slander and backbiting and the instigators will pretend to be wounded by that and may play the lapwing: shedding crocodile tears and saying, 'Why can't we all just get along?' Really, it was appropriate for Rodney King to say that but in this example, it would be more like one of the LAPD assailants saying it. See how this tired old artifice works?
[Carol and I just put five earthpipes along the southern and western highways around Mono Lake and by the time we finished hammering the last one in, the feds were already coming up from underground and scrambling to find us. It's early dusk now and we can see them zooming around the dirt roads closer to the lake-twits!]
As always, we aim to intimately associate with the very small of people who can look at these histrionics and say, 'What a bunch of wankers! I want to hang out with the folks who are actually putting their necks on the executioner's block, not with these connivers and ersatz servants of humanity!' and I personally feel a bit sorry for the much larger number of well meaning people who allow subterfuge to sap their energy and take away their fledgling faith and confidence. They say they're confused, but on the other hand there's no escaping the fact that each of us are accountable for our own discernment or lack of it right now.
Another, nicer cop saw what the reptile was doing and came to Carol's aid, assuring her that she wouldn't be prevented from joining me. They'd all heard the three high-powered rifle shots from down the canyon, of course.
Another thing that Carol told me, much later, about that episode is that the cops were asking her a lot of questions. She knew that some of them were involved in the murder rituals that took place there during every new moon and full moon period and her telepathic ability was honed, razor sharp. When she was asked the names of we three, she gauged their mental responses. Remember that cops are not given much info by their superiors and almost no info by the feds, okay?
They weren't very familiar with Ryan's name (newer warrior), but when DB's name was mentioned, their brains went into overdrive and she told me that they already suspected that he was involved but weren't sure. When she mentioned my name, they stopped writing and their thoughts, especially the reptile's, became so frenetic that she couldn't follow them.
DB arrived in the lot not long after I did and the helicopter landed in a field just beyond the trees. Some medics were gathered around DB, who was now sitting in the passenger seat, and all three of us were being questioned by cops and medics while we waited for Ryan. Carol and DB told me that the reptile cop who drove me to the lot and a reptile medic were shooting implants into me (I'm kind of a butthead when it comes to putting myself into treacherous situations, in case you didn't already know that) as I pestered a human medic with questions about Ryan, and when Ryan and one of the chopper crew came walking through the trees, we all got in the Jeep and drove away.
Here's something strange: When we arrived in the parking lot from Rocky's place, people had begun arriving and parking in the lot, obviously in advance of the night's rituals. The sun had just set and the gate to the parking lot is closed and locked when the sun goes down, ordinarily. None of the cops appeared to even notice the new arrivals and as we drove out of there we went past a line of cars that were coming up the dead end road.
Remember: when DB had arrived at that parking lot around sunset, two weeks before, the lot was nearly full of civilian cars and a cop at the gate (one of these?) told him, 'I'm sorry, Mr. B******, you have to leave.'
Here's another strange thing: When DB arrived with Rocky the first time, a reptile 'family,' who had been having a 'picnic' in the 105 degree sun for about four hours, right next to our Jeep, had been the only freaks to remain after 5:30, when the rest of the parking lot freakshow and also the bank of lenticular clouds over the vortex/portal had suddenly moved away, en masse. Rocky was able to convince the 'mom' to let him use her cellular phone to try to reach the park staff, whom he knows.
We didn't stop until we got to DB's house, even though we were all thirsty as hell, having even drunk the melted ice in the cooler ;-). We all felt a bit like Alice in Wonderland and were treated to a parade of obviously furious and glaring reptiles in vehicles on the highway until we got to the other side of the mountains. In fact, as we turned onto the secondary highway from the road that leads only to the state park, we followed a sedan in the backseat of which a hostile-looking young girl had turned around and was staring at us. That car turned at the intersection toward the main highway, where we would have turned, but DB said, 'Don't turn here, they've set up an ambush!' so we took an alternate road and arrived home safely.
DB's going to fill in the gaps of this account and will describe what he went through in the following post and when Ryan gets done in Yosemite, where he doesn't have internet access, he'll no doubt contribute his recollections and observations, too. I think he'll be there until the end of August, then will join us in Moscow, where he attends the University of Idaho.
That day was kind of like the Battle of the Bulge for the four of us; a watershed event, a confirmation and, of course an initiation. Each of us were isolated and in danger during part of the day and the fact that we survived showed us, at least, that the absolute worst that the occult world order can throw at us can't harm us. The truth, which is kind of sad to me, is that in order to gain faith and confidence in this life one has to take some pretty startling risks and to go on faith alone at times.
That night, even though the two other fellas were in a lot of pain and discomfort, we gathered around the table on DB's patio and had a bragging contest until the wee hours, likely keeping the pedophile CIA doctor next door awake with our raucous laughter.
I didn't suffer any physical discomfort that day, other than the rattlesnake bite, so I wasn't suffering the next morning. I must say, though, that I expected DB and Ryan to be hobbling, at least, because they'd really been through the mill, as you'll see. They both seemed unaffected, though, and even DB's feet and shoulder, which he had dislocated, were completely pain free.
We had some more networking to do in Southern California, so Carol and I left our camp trailer parked next to DB's house and went to Irvine to meet with Ken Adachi, again. He showed us a lot of nifty new energy tools so that he could get Carol to scrutinize them. One of these is a hand-held, mini Tesla coil which we had a hunch might disable implants. DB had rigged his own Tesla coil up to do that and the first night we stayed with him I found and disabled, with the coil, about a dozen new implants, mostly around my throat area. See, the bad guys don't like it when I express myself ;-)
We didn't have a lot of time to spend with Ken that afternoon, so we arranged to see him the next day and to meet his lovely bride, Ayoko. We needed to get to San Diego to touch bases with Alicia Navor, who had been busting up the death matrix in that city so well that the sky and lower atmosphere there is now pristine and full of gorgeous clouds and you can see that the western horizon is now as clear as a bell.
You probably remember that Alicia is the one who confronted, interrogated and photographed the felonious fed who had parked in front of her house in order to intimidate her. She put the photos on the net, which, for a sewer rat, is much better than shooting him. DB said that one of the feds he outed was then posted to Greenland as punishment ;-)
Alicia insisted on treating us to dinner and even paid for our motel room and the next morning we all got busy busting up most of the underground activity connected with the Navy bases there. First, though, she showed us the reservoir she'd gifted. The water was crystal clear and the ambience there was splendid but before she did the deed there, last spring, the area had been like a sewer because of the activity underneath it.
We did the waterfront first, downtown, and there were so many feds that it was tricky dropping some of the trick Water Oblations that DB had contributed for the effort. I'd never seen so many feds in one place, in fact, since I gifted Pocatello and Blackfoot, Idaho, two years ago during my field testing excursion with the new Towerbusters. Back then, like in San Diego, I don't think any of us could have sneezed without getting some on one of them, in fact.
As we moved about the harbor and coastal target areas, though, the crowd thinned considerably and we got all of the devices into the ground and water without a hitch. We had to pound three of the pipes into the ground in upscale neighborhood alleys, though, in Coronado, and at the state park beach near Chula Vista the park cop was waiting for us and by the time we got to a good, private gifting area we did a couple practically under the nose of a roving fed in a pickup who was tagging along after getting the park cop's report. We took a wrong turn at one point and ended up at the gate of the Sub Base, where a Marine in full battle dress with an automatic weapon politely directed us how to turn around. We immediately found a nice secret spot where the racket I made by hammering an earthpipe in the ground didn't attract any attention.
I usually wear my 'covert shirt,' which is the Hawaiian shirt I bought in Arkansas, just to tweak the feds but on that day I opted for something a little more subdued, thanks to the 'Orange Alert' that the Homeland Security Abominations were trying so hard to inflict.
I like the military and if any military guys and gals are reading this, would you please just go to Washington, DC, and arrest the federal government so that we can all have our planet back? Thanks!
I almost forgot: We had passed Pendleton Marine Base on the way to San Diego and were buzzed by a half dozen Navy Blackhawk helicopters then. Carol always gets in the heads of our surveillors and these guys weren't harmful; just doing what they were told. One of the choppers, though, had a CIA passenger, Special Agent Testosterone, with a Buck Rogers energy weapon, and he was beaming us. Anyone who wears a Harmonic Protector or equivalent device (we don't know of any, yet ;-) won't even feel this stuff, of course, but I smacked the idiot with a whopper of 'unconditional love' and we watched as the helicopter quickly landed beside a line of PortPotties in a fenced-off field next to the freeway.
A helpful hint to all fallacious, freakish federal cretins in aircraft: you guys ought to start wearing disposable diapers if you're assigned to beam Etheric Warriors from the air or offend us by buzzing our homes. By the way, I bet none of you guys will fly over DB's house any more ;-)
The only bad thing that happens when unlawful surveillance/attack aircraft go down involuntarily is that fires are sometimes started. I'm too nice to make them crash but some of us obviously aren't, please note.
The reason we wanted to get to San Diego to meet Alicia is that she combines the qualities of fearlessness, resourcefulness, selflessness, spontaneity, lovability, wit and intelligence that we appreciate so much in all of our close friends and fellow warriors. Also, she's taken on an entire big city all by herself. Those are the qualities that pulled me to Canada in late June to meet Steve Baron, Steeve Richard, and Ann Okal then (I didn't have the opportunity to meet many of the rest, unfortunately). It's also what inspired us to go to Las Vegas last week to meet the Ochescus and to stop occasionally to visit with the 'other don,' don Luis Santacruz in Portland ;-)
By the way, Alicia is my hermana grande and don't be fooled by the difference in our heights, okay?
When she and Carol walked out onto the pier at Ocean Beach to drop in three more of DB's Water Oblations. Carol was able to show Alicia what to look for that indicates the presence of Undines, which are big water elementals. Alicia saw it clearly. Carol says that DB's assertion that Undines often take the oblations out to sea is probably accurate because she didn't sense that the devices hit the bottom when they tossed them into the ocean there. Normally, when orgonite devices hit the bottom in a body of water she can feel some reverberations. She said that as we were leaving the downtown waterfront a couple of Undines, around a thousand feet tall, were standing in the harbor, gesturing their appreciation. When we got back to DBs place, he told us what times we had done the harbor and the pier ;-)
By the way, on the way back to DBs, some MKids [CIA MK Ultra mind control programming] tried hard to run us off the road twice and Carol said, 'I wonder what Ryan and DB have been up to today!'
Steeve set up a chat function for the new board and I wanted it to be just for women warriors but I think a better approach will be to set it aside, other than for general use, for scheduled Women Warrior Chat Sesssions, because they seems to get an amazing amount of work done when they aren't interrupted by chattering males ;-) 'Hey, baby, I don't like to use lines to pick up wimmin.'
We stopped to see Ken again on the way back to LA and Ayoko joined us in time for us to have a meal at Sam Woo's. That part of Irvine is a sort of suburban Chinatown and Carol and I love to shop in the 99 RanchMarket next door, which is actually a Chinese supermarket/department-store with a resident herbalist's shop. We stock up on Ginseng and other stuff there, in fact.
Ken and Ayoko are a delightful couple and it's obvious that she adores the guy. It's always gratifying to know couples whose marriages actually work, which I also witnessed as John and Adele Kilroy's guest in Boston recently. I'm told that the first ten years are the hardest ;-)
Carol finally had a chance to meet Andy Scharm of www.ctbusters.com in Monrovia and we had a nice meal together. The only other patron in that section of the restaurant was a reptile who sat, staring at us, the entire time. The first time I looked at him his eyes were wide open and entirely black, which some of the folks on EthericWarriors.com have reported seeing. I hadn't seen that yet, so it was kind of special for me. The rest of the time his eyes were normal. Carol and I had magnets taped all over Andy but nobody besides the reptile paid much attention to that because, after all, this was LA.
The next day we left for Las Vegas.
© Copyright 2002-2004 Educate-Yourself.org All Rights Reserved.
[The Devil's Punch Bowl Tale by Ryan McGinty]. Posted: Tue Aug 17, 2004 12:02 am Post subject: Gifting the west coast 7-28-04 thru 8-10-04