New World Order Air: Barium, Aluminum & Strontium

A Commentary On The Collapse Of Our Oxygen System By Mitch Santell

chemdees2_dees
Find It Hard To Breath?

One of my favorite channels is run by Mike Morales, who has a real passion for checking what is happening to our weather. 

Mike Morales YouTube Graphic

Here is the link to Mike Morales: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCxHTJnQ8yqA3rjDwLemtAKA/about

Check out this short video:

Here is a transcript of what you are watching which is a total of 3:33 In Length:

“Hello, my name is El de Chico, I live in Golden Valley. And I understand that this is a federal issue. I understand that from speaking to the governor’s office, that they cannot or will not even make a statement about this. My question is, have you tested the rainwater? And if you haven’t, have you seen the results of our rainwater tests? And also, are you aware that many of the people sitting in this room right here have very high levels of barium, aluminum, and strontium, in their blood, people are getting sick and dying? And we want the ad aq, not just to give us a little speech today, but actually to maybe perhaps, speak out against it if you know what’s going on? And if not, I would suggest you do a lot more investigation. We’ve been doing it for years. So I’d like to comment on One, the rainwater, what’s in it, and Two, what’s in our blood, and if it’s not coming from geoengineering is your responsibility to investigate and tell us where it is coming from?”

Next:

“Thank you. Just get on to another question on the interview with the Los Angeles Times on April 21. You said that the you told The Associated Press that the American government has created weather tampering techniques so that the New World Order will be able to start millions of Americans and to control the rest.”

“Would you explain what you were trying to say?”

Response: 

“Well, it what I was trying to say is exactly what I said. There is weather control techniques. We have a complete package on that which I did not bring that I certainly will see to it, that it is brought in for the record. Number one the entire patents on the equipment. Number two senator Claiborne Pells, complete statement and story of his own, that not only does it exist, but they will even utilize it as far back as a Vietnam War.”

And then…

“You’re saying the government is created, whether tampering techniques so that the, quote, New World Order will be able to serve millions of Americans or like millions of Americans and to control the rest?”

Final Answer:

“Yes, sir. And that’s my belief. As bizarre as that sounds. When if somebody had told me that that equipment even existed 10 years ago, I would have thought they were nuts sir. And at this point in time, we have all the documents to prove it. And if you think that 85 tornadoes takes place in the middle of our growing area, by simultaneous accident, I’m sorry, with the equipment that’s already set up internationally. And as bizarre as that is, it is proven and documented, we will supply you with those documents. As bizarre as that is, I would say that whether wars and this is quoting actually senator Claiborne Pell himself, that they are the greatest weapon ever created in the world and that’s the senators’ own statement. So yes, I do stand on that.”

 

If you want to watch the video that Mike Morales made tonight

(12/23/2019), here is the video:

Fourteen Years In An Institution

Anne McDonald 1977

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.

More here: http://bit.ly/2Ni3bD0



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


#depression #anxiety #mentalhealth #mentalhealthawareness #sad #love #ptsd #mentalillness #depressed #selfcare #stress #suicide #recovery #health #therapy #bipolar #quotes #selflove #healing #motivation #sadness #suicideprevention #life #art #mentalhealthmatters #mindfulness #pain #memes #chronicillness #bhfyp #wellness #ocd #bpd #help #depressionhelp #suicidal #chronicpain #trauma #broken #meme #lonely #sadquotes #follow #alone #meditation #selfharm #spoonie #psychology #positivity #music #anorexia #poetry #fitness #feelings #sadedits #adhd #loveyourself #endthestigma #inspiration #lost #mentalhealth #mentalhealthawareness #anxiety #depression #selfcare #love #selflove #health #mentalillness #therapy #recovery #motivation #wellness #mindfulness #healing #ptsd #mentalhealthmatters #fitness #wellbeing #loveyourself #psychology #life #meditation #happiness #worldmentalhealthday #suicideprevention #endthestigma #inspiration #positivity #bhfyp

US Tijuana Border Officially Closed

Observations Watching The Border by Mitch Santell

We all must admit that we are living in extraordinary and transitional times. This is something I never thought I would see in my lifetime. What is it? The Border between the USA and Mexico Shut down. 

Border Closed November 25 2018 US Mexico
There are numerous places on the internet to watch the live stream.

Migrants approaching the U.S. border from Mexico were enveloped with tear gas Sunday after a few tried to breach the fence separating the two countries, while the U.S. halted all border traffic on Sunday between Tijuana, Mexico and San Diego.

U.S. agents shot the gas, according to an Associated Press reporter on the scene. Children were screaming and coughing in the mayhem.

Honduran migrant Ana Zuniga, 23, said she saw migrants open a small hole in concertina wire at a gap on the Mexican side of a levee, at which point U.S. agents fired tear gas at them.

“We ran, but when you run the gas asphyxiates you more,” she told the AP while cradling her 3-year-old daughter Valery in her arms.

Mexico’s Milenio TV also showed images of several migrants at the border trying to jump over the fence. A few yards away on the U.S. side, shoppers streamed in and out of an outlet mall.

Read more here:

https://globalnews.ca/news/4696958/migrants-reach-us-mexico-border/

Can’t we just go back to making movies? I guess life does imitate art.


#love #instagood #photooftheday #tbt #cute #beautiful #me #followme #happy #follow #fashion #selfie #picoftheday #like4like #girl #tagsforlikes #instadaily #friends #summer #fun #smile #igers #instalike #likeforlike #repost #food #instamood #follow4follow #art #style #snow #snowing #winter #socialsteeze #cold #ice #white #weather #sky #skies #frosty #frost #chilly #nature #snowflakes #instagood #instawinter #instasnow #photooftheday #snowfall #blizzard #thanksgiving #thanks #giving #socialsteeze #turkey #turkeyday #food #foodporn #holiday #family #friends #love #instagood #photooftheday #happythanksgiving #celebrate #stuffing #feast #thankful #blessed #fun #christmas #holidays #tistheseason #socialsteeze #holiday #winter #instagood #happyholidays #elves #lights #presents #gifts #gift #tree #decorations #ornaments #carols #santa #santaclaus #love #xmas #red #green #christmastree #family #jolly #snow #socialsteezerrychristmas