Things are a bit out of control here in the Empire known as the United States.
Popeyes has decided to bring back their spicy chicken sandwich and it is causing huge problems are various locations across American. If you didn’t think this was the end times? You better think again. People are stabbing each other and crashing their cars into each other over a Chicken Sandwich.
Think about this.
People are dying all over America over some sandwich that promises to give you total satisfaction.
Please carefully note that these videos contain very adult language so if bad language offends you then may I humbly suggest you go buy tickets to Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood and I am sharing this with all my dear readers that are outside of the U.S.A.
A Commentary On Staying In Action When Communications Fail by Mitch Santell
Three times each year Mecury Goes Into Retrograde which sincerely affects communications. Not only does it affect communications, but you may also experience a break down of appliances, recording gear, emails, and software you are wanting to install.
For me, Mercury In Retrograde is my favorite time of the year. Each time it hits I have a big grin on my face. Most people will give you all of their sob stories of how things messed up for them but not for me.
You see there is a deep secret related to Mercury In Retrograde that most people don’t know and I’ll share the secret ready?
Here goes: If you have a relationship, a project, a contract or anything else that started prior to Mercury In Retrograde it will work perfectly. Most times you will notice that things seem almost easier for you because everyone else is complaining.
You have had a transition year, haven’t you? Oh my gosh, we all have. Life is not a dress rehearsal for me and I live it full out with as much passion and compassion as possible.
This year more than at any other time I am having to say goodbye to so many relationships while the ones that remain are stronger, more dedicated and somehow more in sync.
Here are some simple things you can do if things are not going your way during this time:
1). Do a favor each day for someone you love.
2). This is a wonderful time to go through old photographs, old folders, and contracts and dump those things that don’t work anymore. A real sign of mental illness are people who can’t get rid of old possessions that you don’t need! ( The rule that my wife of 33 1/2 years and I have is that if we haven’t used an item in a full year we dump it).
3). This is a great time to plan for projects and schedules that you need to accomplish after the stalling of communications is over. Have fun, be creative and don’t overthink anything.
4). This is a great time to do some soul searching and careful reflection of how you are handling the frequencies as they increase. Now you may ask yourself “What the heck it Mitch talking about?” Answer: Every 24 hours Planet Earth is moving into unchartered space. This shift is causing a lot of people to lose it. Can I prove this? Oh yeah, I can because of the bombardment of high technology is all around us. If you are worried about your eyeballs exploding after all of the 5G cell phone towers go up all over California, you may be onto something so I might recommend a good dose of THC. (That is a subject for another posting).
5). Let go of the need to be right and simply ride the wave of change without freaking out. If you can simply do this and the other four items I listed in this post you will be just fine. At that point, you feel like a human being and not a human doing.
The first thing that you need to do in order to get on the road to freedom is to get completely out of debt. The main fodder off of which the matrix feeds worldwide and at every level – personal, governmental and business – is debt. If they can keep us collectively chained to their phony fiat currency scheme, they can keep us quiet and subservient to their will.
The first debt to get rid of is ALL credit card debt. The interest rates that the Visa/Master Card Cartel charges are exorbitant. And they are owned largely by two of the biggest Illuminati-controlled banks on earth – JP Morgan Chase and Citigroup. Our destiny on this earth is certainly not to feed vampires.
Once you pay off all your credit card debt, don’t ever go there again. Cancel and cut up all credit cards but one, as sometimes one is needed to rent a car or some other thing. I keep an airline-miles-earning Visa due to its international accessibility.
Never use even this one card except for things like car rental which, unfortunately still usually requires a credit card. On the infrequent occasion that you do use it, make sure to pay the balance off by the deadline that month to avoid usurious interest charges.
No wage slave dare openly speak ill of his/her boss or of the system in general, lest they risk being fired. Without a job how can they then make their house payment, car payment and so on? Because of their debt load, many Americans – even the well-paid ones – are just one paycheck away from living on the streets.
While paying off credit card debt may seem a daunting task to those of you who are buried in the stuff, it is essential to escaping the matrix. If you are able to nothing else in this book, get out of credit card debt.
There’s a saying I heard once that made a whole lot of sense to me. “Live like no one lives now and you’ll live like no one lives later”.
The implication is to live not only within your means, but below your means. Once you begin to do this you can not only easily erase your credit card debt, you can start to save money.
Start a bank account with a small community bank if you don’t have one already. These are not evil institutions and should never be seen in the same light as the Illuminati mafia.
In fact these small banks are an integral part of any town since they finance businesses, housing, etc. One thing you will learn while exiting the matrix is how important it is to lose your dogma on a range of issues and make moral decisions based on reality rather than somebody else’s accepted theory of the day.
There are different kinds of bankers, different kinds of politicians, different kinds of business people, loggers, hunters, lawyers, etc. Some own the matrix, some sell out to it, and some work against it. That is reality. Trade in your dogma for some karma.
Starting a bank account protects you from acting impulsively in accordance with the nonstop matrix shopping program. It’s much easier to spend money you are carrying on your person or have sitting in a drawer at home. Keeping your money in a bank makes it harder for you to spend it and watching it grow will encourage you to continue working towards your freedom.
Significantly, when you’ve paid off your debt and you start a savings or checking account, you cease to be a debtor to the bankers and begin to be their creditor. That savings account you started is a loan to the bank which they then lend out at a higher interest rate. As such, the banker is required to pay you interest on that loan which, while currently miniscule and pathetic, fluctuates according to the prime rate set by the Federal Reserve cartel.
Go to a system of paying cash for everything. If you write lots of checks or use a debit card too much, it’s easy to lose track of your account balance.
I had significant debt only twice in my life. Once I took out around $5,000 in student loans to get my Bachelor’s Degree. The second time we had a $10,000 mortgage on the first property we owned.
Both times these debts were paid off within a year. The key was most definitely living below my means. The other key was working all the overtime I could get at the various jobs I had.
My father died when I was 12 years old in a car accident. We operated a farm at the time. I loved playing baseball in the summer and was a pretty good catcher and lead-off hitter, but with Dad gone money got tight, we had to sell the farm place and my Mom lined me up with my first job for a local farmer. The pay was $2.25/hour.
I learned to operate all types of farm equipment and soon found a job for $3.00/hour, then one for $4.00/hour. As farmers in the area began hearing stories of what a hard worker I was and how competent I was at operating machinery, they competed to have me work for them in the summers. At the end of my “farming phase” I was making $6.00/hour and working 60-70 hours a week. I missed playing baseball, but racked up around $4,000 in savings.
In those days interest rates were high and Mom wisely got me invested in a certificate of deposit (CD) that paid 13% interest. So when I went off to college, I had a little cushion and didn’t have to take out as many student loans as some kids.
Even so, I worked my way through college at various pizza joints (lots of free food), libraries and work study jobs. My senior year of college I worked three different jobs at once. And when I graduated I had a job lined up as a fly fishing guide on the Alaskan Peninsula that paid very well. Room and board was included and since we were in the middle of nowhere, there was nothing to spend my paychecks on.
Due to all that hard work, my student loans were paid off and I was able to save enough money for a two-month overland backpacking trip to Mexico, Belize and Guatemala. I was completely out of debt and seeing the world at age 22.
The first leg of that journey south was driven from Omaha to McAllen, TX on the Mexican border in an auto drive-away car. These companies still exist and this is an excellent way to travel for free.
Usually someone has driven their car somewhere and due to some unexpected contingency they have to fly home. Your role is to get their car back to them. Gas and insurance are paid, so the ride is free. Google “auto drive-away” and find out if you have one near you.
The second time I was in debt was when we bought our first property – 10 acres and a beat up mobile home. By that time I was 27 years old, had my Master’s Degree, had traveled solo around the world and was married to my beautiful wife, Jill.
In my travels, the lessons in simple living that my parents and grandparents had instilled in me on the farm sunk in even deeper.
We send out the Peace Corps to condescendingly “teach” the developing world how to live, while Illuminati corporations and banks plunder their resources. Ironically, I have learned so much about how to live from the global poor.
But you can see the same thing here in the US, if you look.
Mexicans come here to work the hard jobs that Americans won’t. They cram as many workers as they can into beat up mobile homes to save on rent. Nearly every dime they earn is then sent back to their families in Mexico who are socking that money away into savings accounts so that these hard-working wanderers can eventually go home and retire to a nice country home.
Don’t let appearances fool you. The Mexicans keeping those Des Moines meat packing plants humming are far more wealthy that most Americans. They are creditors.
When I got my MS in 1991, I was totally broke. So I lined up another good paying job, this time in Japan teaching English. They flew me over in Business Class, where I filled my luggage with as many free tiny bottles of Jack Daniels as I could coax out of the stewardess. They also gave us a free house to live in and car. In only five months our bank account went from $0 to $15,000. It was our first grubstake.
From Kobe, we hopped a ferry to Shanghai, China and spent three months visiting China, Macao, Hong Kong, Thailand, Malaysia, the Philippines and Hawaii. We were creditors again and seeing the world.
We spent $4,000 traveling and buying a car at an LA auction when we returned, so we rolled into the Ozarks in the fall of 1992 with a 1965 Plymouth Reliant packed to the gills. Our two dogs – Buck and Milo – had to sit atop our stuff in the back seat.
After a night sleeping in that packed car, we saw an ad for 10 acres and a mobile home for $29,900. We had a look, offered them $20,000 and moved in that night.
We put $10,000 down and signed a five-year contact for deed. When the dust had settled and the propane tank was filled, we had only a couple hundred dollars left to our name.
The only answer was to hit the ground running. I worked a variety of temporary agency jobs assembling BB guns, packing baby wipes and whatever, while Jill landed a job at a radio station. We had to borrow $4,000 from her parents to buy Jill a reliable pickup to drive to work.
Within two months I landed a job as a drill crew roustabout on a dam repair project. At $7.00/hour it was the best paying job in the depressed Ozarks. I worked 70 hours a week, taking all the overtime I could get.
During this time, I “borrowed” a copy of Abbie Hoffman’s Steal This Book from a public library which wishes to remain anonymous. For those of you who have read it, hopefully you will not wonder why I thought about calling this book, Steal This Book… Again. I learned many things from that excellent book.
Within days of finishing it, a hillbilly named John who worked at the dam, smoked massive quantities of weed and had a beard down to his knees, “borrowed” it from me. I never saw it again.
Meanwhile we were eating copious amounts of macaroni and cheese and fried bologna, dumpster-diving furniture and growing a massive garden.
One day I went in to pay the monthly house note of $250. I asked the realtor to confirm what we still owed and was shocked to learn of the word “amortization”.
For those as naïve as I was, this nasty word means that when you start to pay down a house loan, you pay far more interest than principal. As such, we owed the realtor far more than we thought we did.
Armed with this new and depressing knowledge, we hatched a plan. Jill had already quit her job at the radio station. She could no longer take the lies required to sell advertising, nor the depths that her coworkers would sink to “sell air”.
We sold the pickup we had bought for her. Because we had done our research and purchased it from a private individual, we had bought the pickup for the below-book price of $4,000. We sold it for the book value price of $4,600.
We paid back her folks, then took every dime of the rest of our savings and made a lump-sum payment of $7,000 towards the property. That done, the remaining house payments would go mostly towards principle.
Within eleven months of moving in, we paid the place off. When I went in to make the final $250 payment, the realtor was so floored at our determination that he refused to take that last check. Instead, he gave us the deed and we owned our place free and clear.
We had joked all along that they never would have sold that place to us for that price, but for the fact that they figured they’d be repossessing it a few months after we could no longer make the payments. We must have been quite the site when we rolled into their office in that packed-to-the-gills 65’ Plymouth.
We were out of debt and worn out from the grind, so we decided to rent the place out for $275/month, bought a 1978 Chevy van for $500, built a bed in it out of scrap lumber and hit the road.
A little over a year later we sold that place for $26,000. We hadn’t made much of a profit, but had lived rent free for a year and made some rental income the next year, which we spent living rent-free in that Chevy van.
More importantly, since we had the place paid off, we were able to put every penny of that $26,000 into a savings account. At age 28, we had just taken a quantum leap on the road to freedom. It changed everything.
To summarize, there are two simple keys to getting out of debt. First, work long hours and keep looking for the best paying job around even as you work a less desirable job.
Don’t settle into some low-paying job because it’s easy. Laziness is the surest way to a life of slavery. This is why the matrix is constantly sending us signals that laziness is somehow a virtue. The mantra goes that you should attempt to get by with as little effort as possible, that you are getting one over on the system by being lazy.
Like all matrix propaganda, nothing could be further from the truth. Be industrious and work hard for your freedom.
Second, you must scrimp and scrape and live below your means. Turn down the heat in winter and use blankets, open the windows in the summer, don’t buy anything you don’t absolutely need and sell things you have that you don’t need. Be proactive. It’s your life.
And remember, if you live like no one lives now, you will live like no one lives later.
I’m on the right, next to my best friend Leonie. In this picture I’m sixteen, she’s fifteen. We’re sitting in a twin baby buggy. As one does.
By Anne McDonald
I lived in St Nicholas Hospital until I turned eighteen. Until I was sixteen I was totally unable to communicate with any adult because I am a severely handicapped athetoid. Athetosis is a type of cerebral palsy which results in a lot of uncontrolled movement; as well, in my case, there was an enormous excess of muscle tension. The combination of these difficulties meant that I could not use my hands, walk, or talk intelligibly.
In 1977 I was taught to communicate by using an alphabet board on which I point to letters in order to spell sentences. That is how I wrote my part of Annie’s Coming Out.
The worst thing for me about going into an institution was the total separation from everything I had known. St Nicholas would not allow parents to leave toys or clothes when they left a child. My rabbit, which I loved dearly, could not come, and neither could the animals we had as pets. The ruthless way in which children were parted from their toys was typical of the system’s treatment of children. We upset all their rather puritanical ideas about how children should behave. We were not good patients. We cried because we felt abandoned. The nurses didn’t know what to do; they didn’t know we could feel anguish. The institution had no tally book for broken hearts.
Nurses were discouraged from cuddling children. A crying child needed to be punished for its own good, so it would learn to accept the absence of affection and be happy. Punishment consisted of locking the crying child in a small dark store room. The hospital defined a happy child as a quiet child. Silence was not only golden but sullen; the nurses never saw the looks we gave them when a child was put away.
The doctors were no better. They went home at night, when the crying was worst. Remembering home was easier when you were in your cot with no toys, no games, no stories and no tucking in. We didn’t want to be kissed goodnight – that would have been unbearably distressing – but it would have been nice if someone had shown some sign that they would be glad to see us in the morning.
Talking about shit filled an enormous part of the nurses’ days. They spoke only a limited form of English, so the words they used were usually those used as abuse in polite society. You used to hold off shitting until you just about burst rather than suffer the abuse. We could not take ourselves to the toilets even if there had been toilets, so we were all in nappies. If you did not use your bowels you would have a suppository rammed in. This was recognized by the authorities, who had provided a tome in which all movements were recorded for posterity. It was called the Bowel Book. This caused no end of problems, because failure to score resulted automatically in laxatives. One day missed meant Duralax tablets; two, suppositories; three, an enema. You had no say at all.
Some nurses never marked the book, so totally unnecessary suppositories were frequently given. If you had a shit after being given a suppository you still had to listen to remarks about your odour and messiness. Instead of giving laxatives at night when they would cause the least embarrassment, they were always given at breakfast or lunch, ensuring a totally ruined morning or afternoon. This would not have mattered once in a while, but some of us were being dosed every second day.
Still, we thought we would be going home. Perhaps we were going to be cured. Little did we know! St Nicholas only has ‘hospital’ in its title because it occupies the old Children’s Hospital buildings. Of course, these were available for us only because they had been condemned as unsafe and inappropriate for children. Less medical care was given than we had at home. Laughter was the only medicine apart from laxatives and anticonvulsants, and humour was discouraged because laughter was confused with epilepsy and treated by injecting Valium or paraldehyde.
The nurses had never seen physically handicapped people before and had no idea which responses we shared with normal kids and which were significant indications of distress requiring intervention. Jittery nurses often thought we were frail and used to keep us in bed until the temperature had hit eighty. This resulted in even those children who had no physical handicap becoming wasted and pale. For the spastics, lying flat was disastrous. Their spasm became worse lying flat than sitting, reduced their ability to speak clearly, blocked gesturing, and usually removed any means of interaction. We were each marooned in our private cage. Vitality ebbed. We became prey to infections, which proved to the nurses that they were right to keep us in bed. The ultimate irony was that outsiders used to commend the nurses for treating us so well.
Despite this I was very attached to some of the nurses from the beginning. I think that some did marvelous work to cope with the numbers of kids in their groups and still be affectionate to us. They treated us like babies, but some treated us like nice babies. I was very fond of the night nurse on Ward 4. She was never flustered and was always even-handed in the way she dealt with us. You always got good treatment regardless of whether you responded or not.
We took some time to realize that we were not being treated. You expect a hospital to discharge patients other than in coffins. Some kids did come for temporary stays; funnily enough they frequently died. Usually children who visited knew when they were leaving. This meant that they did not become part of the ward and they took a superior attitude to us long-term residents. (As usual, I am talking about those who could communicate – most could not.) We tried not to hate them. It was difficult. Not only were they going home but they also got more than their fair share of attention. The nurses used to make a fuss of them and compare us unfavorably to them. The nurses felt no responsibility if we were skinny, sickly and sullen.
We had ways of communicating between ourselves. Usually we tried to cheer up any short-stay kids by pointing out how much better their state was than ours. We felt that nowhere could be as dreadful as St Nicholas; however, it seemed that the outside had its problems too. Most short-stay kids we saw were very physically handicapped. Those who spoke were generally unhappy because no one understood them, and they had no one to talk to. At least we had each other. Sometimes kids wanted to help us, but telling others was impossible for them too.
Dying was dependent on the way you felt. Jobs in mental hospitals do not attract the best doctors, and there was no supervision. The patients could not complain. If you wanted to die you had every opportunity. Many short-stay kids took their chance. Death never appealed to me; I wanted revenge. Now that does not seem to matter. What is important is stopping other kids going through what we went through.
Deceiving yourself was the hospital pastime. You imagined you talked perfectly and that you would be taken out for ever. You imagined waking up cured. You never took your condition seriously; it was never as important to you as it was to others. We had never walked; it did not look like we ever would. It was something we had grown up knowing. For busting out of confinement, speech seemed more desirable. We knew there were kids in St Nicholas who could walk, but none who could talk properly. All our imaginings depended for their fulfillment on speech.
Time was when the strongest emotion I felt was hate, and hate makes you strong. Tender emotions were dangerously softening. Implacable hatred of the whole world which hunted handicapped children into middens like St Nicholas twisted my relationships with people for years.
It felt appropriate to show and share that regardless of how tragic your own life is that others have it much worse. ~Mitch Santell (editor’s note – mine).
Parting shot:There will be no global awakening. This site will be closed in a number of days and after that all indications that this site was ever here will be gone. I wish you all the best of luck as the world you live in has been taken over by pure evil. It is only through faith and discernment that you will survive what is coming. ~ MJS
The fire crisis here in California continues as firefighters from all over the country are being sent to put out the fires in both Northern and Southern California.
Global Warming is now called Climate Change. This is a joke to me, dear followers, because the weather is always changing.
Here is what Agenda-Free news channel had to say about what is up for California for Tuesday, October 29, 2019.
Here is a map of Weather Modification for California for 2011. California is hiring private contractors spending 3 Million to 5 Million USD on Geo-Engineer our entire state. The spraying in 2011 is still going on now. We get a break from the chemicals being sprayed above our heads filled with Aluminum, Barium, and all kinds of sick chemicals that are ruining our environment and making the people in California sick.
Here is the actual document explaining what they are doing:
A Commentary On The End Of The Truth Movement by Mitch Santell
The more I look at how brainwashed and cloned-off everyone is mainly with the introduction of the iPhone 11 Pro Max, I can sincerely say that America, more than any other country, has gone rogue.
One of my favorite researchers was James Fetzer and, like so many before, lost his case in court and is under attack for writing a book about Sandy Hook.
Fetzer, a retired University of Minnesota Duluth professor now living in Wisconsin, and Mike Palacek co-wrote a book, “Nobody Died at Sandy Hook,” in which they claimed the shooting was staged by the Obama administration in an effort to enact tighter gun control restrictions.
Palacek reached an undisclosed settlement with Pozner last month. Fetzer called the damages awarded by the Dane County jury “absurd” and said he would appeal.
Pozner testified that he’s received harassment and death threats from conspiracy theorists who claimed he was an actor and that his son never existed. A separate defamation lawsuit by Sandy Hook parents against “Infowars” host Alex Jones, one of the biggest proponents of the theory that the shooting never happened, is pending.
“I had attempted to be transparent. I published Noah’s death certificate on a social media page I used as a memorial page. And after doing that I was accused of being a fake and a fraud and that changed everything,” he said,according to the Wisconsin State Journal.
Along with other Sandy Hook parents, Pozner has spent years lobbyingFacebookto remove conspiracist videos about the shooting from its platform.
The video I place below was recorded on June 8, 2008. This was before the massive censorship that is now all over America, went into effect. Feel good now? Everything we have been told is basically a LIE.
The Godfather of modern public relations is the “double nephew” of Sigmund Freud. Who is he? His name is Edward Bernays. Mr. Bernays discovered how to manipulate and control people by placing his observations in a book entitled “Progaphanda” which was published in 1928.
If you want to understand why a social media company like FaceBook has so much control over how you behave and think, check out this book!
Commentary From A Man Living In A Delusional World by Mitch Santell
One of the people that I have studied more than anyone else is Edward Bernays. If you have never heard of him, he was the nephew of Sigmund Freud.
Edward Bernays wrote a book in 1928 that is considered the Bible of the Public Relations business that is titled “Propaganda.”
Mr. Bernays, often considered the Godfather of Public Relations, simply watched his Uncle Sigmund Freud deal with his patients and he learned his Uncle’s deepest fear.
Do you know what that was?
Sigmund Freud’s greatest fear was that his patients would go on vacation!
Why did he think that?
Answer: Sigmund Freud realized that if his patients went on vacation that they didn’t need talk therapy, they just needed to take more vacations!
Yes, I said yes, I have the book right here so you can read it yourself. If you have read about how bad social media is for you is simply an extension of Bernay’s world, where perception is the reality. Click below and learn:
A Guest Commentary by Hyram F. Suddfluffel, Ph.D., (Political Science)
I have a degree in Political Science, and I am a card-carrying Libertarian. I’ve been studying politics and political history for the past 30 years. My specialty is U.S. Presidents.
That said, I hope that the House of Representatives impeach Trump. Let me tell you what will happen next!
1. The House can pass articles of impeachment over the objections of the Republicans, and refer to the Senate for trial.
2. The Senate will conduct a trial. There will be a vote, and the Republicans will vote unanimously, along with a small number of Democrats, to not convict the President. Legally, it will all be over at that point.
3. However, during the trial, and this is what no one is thinking about right now, the President’s attorneys will have the right to subpoena and question ANYONE THEY WANT.
That is different than the special counsel investigation, which was very one-sided. So, during the impeachment trial, we will be hearing testimony from James Comey, Peter Strzok, Lisa Page, Bruce Ohr, Glenn Simpson, Donna Brazile, Eric Holder, Loretta Lynch, Christopher Steele, Hillary Clinton, John Brennan, James Clapper, and a whole host of other participants in this whole sordid affair and the ensuing cover-up activities.
A lot of dirt will be dug up; a lot of truth will be unveiled. Finger-pointing will occur. Deals will start being made, and suddenly, a lot of Democrats will start being charged and going to prison.
All this, because, remember, the President’s team will now, for the first time, have the RIGHT to question all of these people under oath – and they will turn on each other. That is already starting.
4. Lastly, one more thing will happen, the Senate will not convict the President. Nothing will happen to Trump. Most Americans are clueless about political processes, the law, and the Constitution. Most Americans believe that being impeached results in removal from office. They don’t understand that phase 2 is a trial in and by the Senate, where he has zero chance of conviction.
Remember, the Senate is controlled by Republicans; they will determine what testimony is allowed — and **everything** will be allowed, including DNC collusion with the Clinton campaign to fix the election in favor of Hillary, the creation of the Trump dossier, the cover-up, and destruction of emails that very likely included incriminating information.
They will incriminate each other for lying to the FISA court, for spying and wiretapping the Trump campaign, and for colluding with foreign political actors, especially George Soros. After the Senate declines to convict the President, we will have an election, and Trump will win. It will be a backlash against democrat petulance, temper tantrums, hypocrisy, and dishonesty. Even minorities will vote for Trump, because, for the first time, they will see that democrats have spent 2+ years focused on maintaining their own power, and not doing anything at all about black murders in Chicago, homelessness, opioids, and other vital issues that are actually killing people. And, we will spend the following four years listening to politicians and pundits claim that the whole impeachment was rigged.
So let’s move on to impeachment. Hyram F. Suddfluffel, PhD