Since I am officially already on some federal list ‘of 50,000 individuals’ and, so, have been unable to wire money abroad.for a couple of years, also because the FBI in Lewiston, Idaho, had told some people whom we know that ‘Don Croft is Idaho’s Number One Terrorist,’ I assumed the felonious feds were going to get ugly about me getting on a plane. It was apparently the Federal Bureau of Instigation, after all, who broke into our home and stole my last, ever, US passport, four years ago after I got back from Uganda. That trip was my latest commercial flying experience.
I’m happy to say that we weren’t thusly notified at the ticket counter, nor did the feds put big, red ‘Xs’ on our boarding passes, as they routinely did to us, before. In case you didn’t know, the red X on one’s boarding pass is an indicator for the Airport Gestapo that the pass holder needs to be publicly molested. Carol and her daughter, Jenny, both had those Xs on Carol’s previous flight and were paraded like felons in front of the other cowering passengers.
Maybe the feds knew I’d be writing about this curious official terrorist ploy–who knows?
Surveillance around us, in recent months, has mostly been discreet; even genteel. We got a sort of ugly reminder of Federal Watchfulness in the Denver Airport (‘Satan’s Hub’), though, on our first stopover on the way from Spokane to Hawaii.
I had gone to the toilet and was in there awhile. While I was washing my hands I heard stacatto footsteps, which seemed odd for men’s shoes, but I didn’t think much about it until, as I turned to the doorway, an approaching woman in high heels said, ‘Either you’re in the wrong bathroom or I am!’
After I recovered from the shock and as I was walking back to our boarding area I couldn’t wipe a stupid, big grin off my face. I really tried not to smile because I could see it was making a lot of people mad at me. I knew they were mad because they were glaring at me. Their anger made me realize, anew, that airports are not happy places.
I couldn’t wait to tell Carol about it so that I could finally wipe that grin off my face and she, too, had a little tale to tell.
Shortly before I got back, a federal policeman with spiffy black uniform, shaved head, scumbag-enitlement attitude and no insignias on his uniform (she figures that he hastily removed them before coming out from under his rock) came looking for me when I was in the toilet. Whenever either of us drop from view the feds start to worry, especially in a place like that, where the New Reich spent twenty billion dollars building stuff under the airport. Of course, the usual underground base costs many times that much but somehow the ‘twenty billion’ figure got into the press and the original estimate to build the new Denver Air Teminal was a small fraction of that amount–remember? Even the Europoid Depression Babies who had sold their sons as cannon fodder in Vietnam got alarmed about that.
This federal scumbag glared at Carol as he approached her but eventually dropped his gaze when she glared back at him. There was a whole lot of glaring going on within a few minutes, then, but I didn’t have an opportunity to glare at anyone, so maybe I’ll get lucky in Satan’s Airport on the way back.
What she found in his shiny peanut head was that the feds were alarmed that I’d dropped from view for awhile and it was his job to find me. I assume this gangster had already checked all the stalls in the Men’s Toilet before he accosted my wife. I wonder if that federal freak is reading this, assuming he can read, of course.
Actually; we’d been basking in the new, relatively less-obtuse active surveillance–it almost feels like they’re not around these days but maybe they’re just growing shy in the face of all this waking up among the populace.
I still get creeped out by the Airport Gestapo, though. I won’t likely get used to their presence because it’s like a punch in the face every time I walk into an airport. Nobody else is getting used to it, either, obviously, except the Gestapo, themselves. I never remove my metal because the Harmonic Protector silences their metal detectors. That’s pretty cool, at least.
Did you know they make everyone remove shoes when going through the gauntlet? One more incremental step of humiliation and intimidation that’s nearly killed the air travel industry by now. If they’d pulled this stunt in the 1950s, the Europoid American Depression Babies would have all said, ‘Thank You, Offizier!’ but, now, as you know, one no longer says ‘Help! Police!’ when one’s in trouble but rather, ‘Help! It’s the POLICE!’
I had made up six Eighteens (see materiaetherica.com) before our departure and we bought a special, steel-reinforced suitcase for them, assuming the feds would try to crush them enroute. I cut six ‘armatures’ from 1/8" mahogany ‘doorskin’plywood and Goop-glued 18 mini-muffin orgonite bits at the requisite positions. Then I tested whether a completed unit would sink, which it did, and then finished the lot.
Carol had made up a bunch of dolphin balls and mailed them to our hotel in the town of Kailua-Kona and those arrived safely before we did.
On the first morning we drove to Kaleakakua Bay, a half hour south of our hotel, and rented a two-seat kayak from Herman, a Hawaiian guy, then paddled across the mouth of the Bay, dropping three of the Eighteens in the deeper water there. The sea was quite flat that morning and we watched the first one all the way to the bottom in about 75 feet of very clear water. I was gratified to see it come to rest on a bed of sand between a couple of coral heads. I think these work best when they’re lying flat. I took my boat GPS along to check water depths and position. We dropped the other two in much deeper water.
That’s the bay where Captain Cook was killed in the late 18th Century, by the way, and has always been sacred to the Hawaiians. Herman told me that the old cement pier where he launches the kayaks is the site of the first pier built on the Big Island.
The spinner dolphin pod who rest in the Bay during the daytime love to swim with people in the early morning, before ten o’clock or so. It was almost ten when we arrived in the kayak at the swimming area, which is about a thousand feet out from the rocky beach at the southeast edge of the bay in about fifty feet of water. Carol stayed on the boat and I tried my hand at free diving to the bottom. I used to be able to hold my breath up to three minutes and to dive down a hundred feet when I lived in the islands as a teenager but found it surprisingly difficult to get to the bottom, that day. Four dolphins briefly swam by, close, when I was in the water and checked me out. Carol said the pod was mainly interested in the Eighteens, which were producing a lot of energy at the mouth of the bay.
We had sat on the kayak, among the snorkellers, and watched the flat surface of the bay for about fifteen minutes but didn’t see any dolphins break the surface, near or far, until I got in the water. It’s pretty eery, sometimes, when dolphins often just show up, nearby, but weren’t seen anywhere, before. We believe it’s evidence of their ability to flip in and out of 3D.
Every morning a crowd of people swim with the pod. The Rockefeller-funded Gaia Nazis had entirely failed to intimidate people away from the Bay, thank God. When Carol was there, last time (two years before) these nazis were going around in expensive boats in the bay, threatening people with arrest by the police if they approached dolphins in the water. Too bad for these nazis that the dolphins approach people, instead, especially underwater when people are submerged
Carol, who was paddling in the front position on the first day, maneuvered the kayak to hide my tosses of the three 18s because she sensed that the gaia nazis and/or their federal police cohorts were spying on us from shore, trying to see where we were dropping the18s.
On the way back, we had a terrific breakfast at Aloha Angel Café in the little town of Captain Cook.
The next morning we got there around 8:30AM and swam out from the beach. This time lots of dolphins came around and after I dove down with several of them I suddenly found that it was easy for me to reach the bottom and even stay down there for a bit. Also, when I came back up I still didn’t feel any desperation. It rather felt exhilarating, just like it did when I was in my youth. This peculiar upward shift in confidence is one of many signals that one is being boosted by the energy of nearby dolphins. Note that it’s not unlike the way simple orgonite encourages and empowers us and it’s not hard to see why dolphins and whales love the stuff so much, too.
I had lost a bunch of weight in the previous year so I wasn’t bobbing like a cork any more, either. At the hotel I discovered that I can actually sink in fresh water, which is an indicator that the ratio of fat to muscle is now a healthy one. I learned to scuba dive when I was a teen but never liked having all that gear on me.
When I was swimming around underneath, I saw a dolphin swim across Carol’s path, very close to her face, and partly jump out of the water there, twice. They like to surprise people, sometimes. She later told me that this is the mother of the white dolphin that she photographed on the previous visit and she just wanted to greet Carol and let her know that they all appreciate the 18s that we dropped the day before. This dolphin didn’t have a baby with her this time but on the previous two visits she did. Carol said the moms like to show off their babies to the friendlier swimmers.
Being married to a telepath has a lot of rewards, including some vicarious appreciation of close interactions with other sentient species. To a natural psychic like my gal, of course, all living things are sentient and so are allegedly inanimate and even mineral ones, ‘Gaia Hypothesis’ notwithstanding. I don’t think there’s a need to mystify any of this.
Most people we meet aren’t capable or willing to have this discussion but everyone who comes close to dolphins while swimming is profoundly and wonderfully affected. Carol and I wished that Jeff McKinley were here with us because when he and I had the opportunity to swim with dolphins from the boat in the Gulf of Mexico we didn’t do it.
He told us about a friend of his who was approached by dolphins when swimming in the Bahamas. The fellow gave a yellow bandana to a dolphin, then, and some years later, when swimming in that area again, a dolphin with a yellow bandana in his mouth swam over to welcome him back.
There were a score of snorkelers out there with us, most of whom were apparently German tourists, which I thought was pretty neat and a good indicator of effective international networking about the dolphins in the bay. Herman had openly invited us to swim with the dolphins, so apparently the gaia nazis’ vigorous terror campaign didn’t impress the locals, either. These well-financed brain police had gotten some alleged laws passed that clearly indicate that if one swims within fifty yards of a dolphin one can be arrested by the cops. Presumably, a professional gaia nazi is supposed to be stationed in the bay. every morning as they were when Carol was here previously, to report people to the cops but apprarently the dolphins, themselves, eventually made monkeys of these brain police by aggressively swimming among people. You can bet the local cops don’t care whether people swim with dolphins
because most of the cops in Hawaii are laid back and
unobtrusive, unlike the eager and expectant New
Armored Jackboots on the mainland Carol had remotely monitored the energy of the 18s during the first day and it took several hours for the vertical beams of orgone from the devices to connect with the healthy orgone canopy, high above the island. Since the one Cesco dropped in the water, some weeks before, instantly shot a blue beam up to the orgone canopy Carol felt it was obvious that someone was trying, very hard, to suppress the energy of the bay. The eighteens have been a wonderful way for ‘the rest of us’ to discover the value and significance of Laozu Kelly’s and Cesco’s glob-trotting ministrations to the earth’s orgone canopy. I think we’re finally understanding the significance of all that and I’m glad that the ‘next level’ tech that these guys are developing are the fruits of all that labor.
Cesco wants me to wait to talk about the Cescolator, by the way
Yesterday, Carol said, ‘I wonder how Kelly would like swimming with these dolphins!’
The helicopter that frantically showed up while we were with the dolphins on the first day (a half hour or so after we dropped the 18s–too late, as usual, to catch gifters in the act) was confirmation that we had ‘disturbed their disturbance.’ Carol said that the three unhappy passengers in the chopper, which hovered all around the edge of the bay for a few minutes and simply wouldn’t venture out over the water
, were a CIA boss, a CIA psychic and a Rockefeller-payrolled
gaia nazi Not long ago, the feds would have swarmed the bay before we got there. I remember a time when you couldn’t p!$$ behind a bush without hitting a CIA, NSA. FBI, Mossadomite, Newage Nazi, KGB and/or MI5/6 pavement artist–remember those early gifting sorties in the years when the $#!+bird agencies apparently thought they had a chance to stop the growth of this unorganized, grassroot movement?
Somehow the sewer rats had managed to isolate the west side (Kona Coast) of the island from the orgone canopy, though Carol’s earlier gifting work was still keeping the area pleasant. On her first visit here, three years ago, the energy of the place was literally dead from the molestations of the world order, apparently through their extensive underground facilities here. The evidence that the beams had connected was seen the next day in the form of a growing blue hole in the constant white haze. We had dropped a fourth 18 in a suitable spot inland from the beach where we had been. That left two more of the devices to deploy.
We emailed Dr Len Horowitz, whom Carol visited each time she came to the island, but haven’t heard back from him, so Carol assumes he’s not on the island. The feds had apparently leaned on the Hawaii Health Department to shut down his bed and breakfast in Pahoa a couple of years ago, we learned by visiting the website. She’ll probably try to call him today because this morning, when she gets up, we’re going to the peridot beach and to Kilauea, which are on the way to his place. The green beach made of peridot sand is a couple miles of walking from the road and the volcanic crater also takes some time to drive around so we won’t take time to swim in the bay, today.
I do intend to help Carol get familiar with our new underwater video camera today, though, so that she can film me swimming with our friends, tomorrow morning. She prefers not to be filmed, yet. We’ll fly home the next evening so there will be two more swims for us in the bay.
A fellow out in the water who told me this was his seventh visit described how dolphins swim while sleeping. The spinnner dolphins swim close together, unlike the bottlenose dolphins, and when sleeping ones are swimming in a bunch a couple of awake ones swim along either side of the group and entrain them to get to the surface to breathe, then the outriders take their place among the sleepers and two more take on the guide duty, etc. They catnap and Carol said they alternately shut down either half of the brain. I said ‘Like you can drive the car on trips while you’re out of your body?’ and she said, ‘Right.’
After posting a mention, yesterday, that we’re in Hawaii I got an email from a couple of people on nearby Maui. One was from Peter, who had extensively gifted Pearl Harbor and many of the death towers on that island (Oahu) and another was from a fellow I hadn’t yet met who said that a pod of dolphins are now swimming regularly with people at a beach by a hotel in Lahaina which is the main town on Maui. I asked him for more particulars, which I’ll share when I get them.
During a shopping excursion near the pier in Kaiuna-Kona yesterday evening a Hawaiian store clerk recognized our Harmonic Protectors and when Carol gave her a card she said, ‘You’re THEM?’
We then ate at Cassandras, which is an old, real-deal Greek restaurant by the pier. I love Greek coffee and it’s hard to find places that still make it so it was mighty nice to find this place.
We watched a dozen or so racing canoes from the second-floor restaurant, which was open, facing the bay. These traditional-looking Hawaiian racing canoes are about forty feet long and paddled by six or so people, mostly high school boys in this case. The fastest canoe was coached by a girl, I noticed. There are international canoe races here in the summer.
I used to watch similar canoes when I lived in Tonga in 1984-5, and I remember the cool sailing canoes, stone money and topless women of the Yap Archipelago of the Western Pacific when I was there in the mid-sixties, a few years before Killer Kissinger destroyed the culture with free money, free food, free clothes, free electricity & TVs and round-the-clock American programming on tape: accelerated cultural decline with soap operas and Bowling for Dollars in the background really depressed me when I found out about it.
The Palauans, nearby, resisted all that and the CIA and MI6 finally gave up trying to rape those islands after they assassinated a succession of elected officials in the early 1980s, after blowing up Mt Pinatubo in the Phillipines. The world odor had apparently wanted to move the Navy and Air Force Bases in the Phillipines to Palau, then. I think the Filipinos were finally getting tired of American Jingoism and proxy despots. I hope the entire planet will get sick and tired of this stuff so that stupid American and Brit uniformed thugs will have to stop playing at being cops for this parasitic, corporate world odor.
I spent more time in Palau than on Yap and I’ve always wanted to go back there. It’s called Republic of Belau, now. They’re fascnating people with an open culture and a hunger for information and travel so I hope somebody will show these resourceful people what orgonite does
~Don