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Irrefutable… The dance called dwarka addendum.

The being that Iho Grace is writing the book of poetry called, A Dance Called Dwarka for has been absent from my life experience for around six weeks. I ventured into the memory of that lifetime more than once in that time to recollect the sensations, the feelings, and awe that the Mauritian merchant felt when he saw the being from a watery world in the Sirius Star System cross his path, twice. Both instances were fleeting, mere moments, but the impressions that fill my being (even as I write this) are tangible, powerful and like a torrent that pours over, through and into me in spectacular ways that set my literary heart to flame.

This being (in this lifetime) is just as otherworldly to me, as I look at her in a human form. The resonance of that lifetime to me is so revealing in her movements, her language, and her genetic human physiology. I saw her for the first time in six weeks last night and I felt a deep and powerful awe. My reverence for her runs through me as I appreciate the wonder of her transition from form to form, yet seeing her through the eyes of my own form (very different from the Mauritian merchants) abundant joy and love fill my heart and course along my arterial highways, filling my body with dopamine, oxytocin, and serotonin. I revel in that experience and it instills in me a literary flow where Iho Grace transitions into my body like apparitional overlay of a swelling tide of verse.

I don’t believe I’ve seen better poetry coming across the pages I am writing. Each unique poem is a cascade of devotion, marvel and conjecture that whips up in me visions, emotions, senses that though are not bound to me in this lifetime, are resonant with a life that I am beginning to recall with each poems completion. This being is an extraordinary muse, perhaps the most wondrous of my current lifetime, and I have had many (Sanctum, A Flickering Light Called Fate, The Eyes of Love See All all have their muses) and for this alone I am grateful beyond any words. To call her a friend, makes me humble to be honoured by her decision to call a friend too.

My greatest muse sings from the Sirius and her voice echoes through the ocean…

Markus. A long way from Lyra, United’s other immortal hero.

Markus, is a character from the Harmon Sueno novel, United, who came to me when I heard about the Pentecostal snake handlers in the Appalachian mountains quoting this verse from the Gospel of Mark,

Mark 16:17–18

17 And athese signs will accompany those who believe: bin my name they will cast out demons; cthey will speak in new tongues; 18 dthey will pick up serpents with their hands; and if they drink any deadly poison, it will not hurt them; ethey will lay their hands fon the sick, and they will recover.

I envisaged the humans of the Lyra star system and their subjugation by the Archontic/Draconis Empire eons ago; and then subsequent chasing of the human occupants of that star system across the galaxy to the Pleaides. Then to our solar system where many fought in a battles on Mars, Tiamat, Earth and on moons of the outer planets beyond Earth. What if Morvarid wasn’t the only non-earth human to have fought the cabal and then, when the fall took place into the third dimension, another non-terrestrial human became immortalised here? This thought played out in my mind, and how would he keep a watchful eye on his greatest foe? I pondered.

This former sixth-dimensional being had lost all the abilities that we would consider ‘superhuman’ with the fall, and so would have to resort to other ways in order to discover the machinations of his enemy, and do so without his nemesis knowing. But how? Then I imagined that Mark, the disciple of Jesus, was an non-terrestrial human who recognised the cosmic consciousness of source energy manifesting in an earthly human, that being Jesus. Mark came to subtly teach and observe the young man, hone his message, and also anchor an energetic influx of the energy from the higher dimensions by helping creating a movement that would encompass the world after the young man’s death.

The handling of snakes (for me) in the Gospel of Mark was both metaphorical and procedural. It pertained to Markus using the snakes venom to gaining higher levels of perception, focusing his intuition (after being bitten) to zero in on the Archontic/Draconis cabal’s plans, movements, strategies. Later in Markus’ historical arc, the shamanic power he had gained from this procedure meant that he could cast Draconis Reptilians out from their human hosts (demons) and put them into the bodies of poisonous snakes.

Its not till late in the novel, that Markus begins to regain not only the abilities he lost after the fall into third dimensional frequency, he also regains the knowledge how to free the planetary consciousness of Earth, and re-shape the rings of the broadcasting station that is the brown dwarf star, Saturn. The need to handle poisonous snakes, and have their venom infused into his body is no longer necessary.

Markus. Pentecostal minister and non-terrestrial human from Lyra

Morvarid, from the moon Maldona. The last of her kind.

I have various degrees of affiliation with the characters of the books I write. The experience of being the character, occupying their bodies, mind and spirit is not a unique experience unto me. Many, if not most writers of novels, short stories are granted this gift when they scribe the narratives of their stories. However, for me, this experience is complete, and even after I leave the keyboard, close the file down after writing for a spell, or finish a book, the character and I can still share our lives. They can look through my eyes and I through theirs, giving presence a whole new meaning. Often the characters lives will play out as an overlay over my everyday tasks, and it will take all my mental focus to maintain the task at hand, while I’m existing in another level of creation, as a character from the Oho Ake universe and a part of my awareness is extant in this other dimension.

For me, no one has drawn me so completely into their being so much as Morvarid, the last Maldonian. Her homeworld, the moon Maldona, that orbited the planet Tiamat, (called Maldek in other historical accounts, as Tiamat was the prosopopeia of the primeval sea from which all the gods were created in Mesopotamian mythos, but in the Oho Ake universe this goddess, was a planet). The Maldonians were a race of warriors, that the Spartans of Ancient Greece would attempt to emulate thousands of years later. These fierce adversaries to those who fought them were invincible. During the cosmological war for the solar system between the peaceful Conglomeration and the Archontically possessed Draconis Empire, the Maldonians were drawn into the war as the Saurian led cabal invaded the galaxy. Destroying their home moon was the only way to obtain victory in the galaxy, and Morvarid, who was fighting with the forces embattled on the planet now known as Earth, was left stranded, alone, and fell with the planet from higher dimensional existence into a third dimensional matrix. This not only made her immortal, it also changed her genetic expression, making her more Earth human, rather than a sixth dimensional Maldona native.

Inhabiting Morvarid, I felt her remorse for her home world, the sense of aloneness that came with knowing she was the last her kin, and the burning desire for revenge that gnawed away at her through the eons. I saw and was a part of her guerilla tactics on the covert machinations of the Draconis Empire’s hybrid control system left to rule on their behalf on the planet since the fall of Lemuria. Felt her compassion as she left communities, people, environments behind in order to hide her immortal identity, and then return to these locales and what became towns and cities as she moved in ever decreasing circles around the globe. The sting of losing the love of her life during the ‘first’ Sumer (pre-flood) and then consequent burying of her heart behind a wall of protection and loathing for the world created by the Draconis and their Archontic, Artificial Intelligence possessors that lasted for millennia, until she met him again incarnate in the novel Entwined, only to lose him again. Sadness once again saddled up to her, and she ventured to seek help to find her lover. That episode being the prologue of United.

Then during the energetic paradigm shift that takes place in United, I felt her resurgence of power, her latent sixth dimensional abilities awakening as epigenetic modulations took place within her energetic framework, and therefore body. Here, I understood why she was so feared by her enemies, how aware she was of her environment and how strategic her analysis of any given moment made her a tour de force of unparalleled ability. Being privy to the poise, grace, dynamism, and agility of this beautiful warrior woman, who straddled a burgeoning compassionate heart with a fortitude of indomitable focus was mind-bending. When she hunts the most horrendous and powerful apex hominid predators this planet has known, in United, and feeling her sinew, muscles, joints, work together in a way that no comic book heroine could match made me feel enlivened like I’ve never felt before. There have been few moments in my life when I have felt so connected to the world around me, acutely aware of everything. Senses amplified beyond my wildest imagination.

Then the final stages of her narrative showed me her deepest grieving yet, and then a quiet peacefulness that filled her being at the end of United. Her character arc meeting an end that felt like a whole new beginning for her. What a privilege it has been.

Morvarid. Maldonian. The last of her people. The fiercest warrior in the Multiverse.

The finishing touches. Watching a book be birthed into the literary universe.

I just received the pencil sketch of the cover of A Flickering Light Called Fate, by Iho Grace from Amber Coubrough my cover illustrator today. She’s due with her third child, so the effort to get this sketch out is simply heroic. I’m so grateful that she has given me a glimpse of what the cover will look like. There is a chance she may get it to me before she goes into labour (wow…) but whatever happens, the timing for the cover will be perfect. The final tweaks (for concept) from me, have been made, now she can finalise and then digitise the sketch, and at some time, the book of relationship catharsis that is this small book of poetry will be published, and I will have given Iho Grace his first foray into the Oho Ake universe.

Remembering the thrill of seeing the first three books published all at the same time in 2010 was an achievement for me that allowed me to have the self-belief that I could accomplish this creative process. I had been one whose started many projects, and failed to finish them throughout my life. I felt immense satisfaction seeing the first editions of Entwined, The Light Guides the Way and The Darkness Holds Sway for sale on Amazon way back when. It wouldn’t be long before I would create my own website, sell the books on there and then eventually pull them all down and re-edit/re-imagine all seven of the published books in 2016. I had been told I would write seven books in seven years in 2009, but scoffed at the idea when I had just crossed the line with three. I wrote those books, all seven within the seven years, with a year to spare.

Now writing my eleventh/twelfth books consequentially, and having two new characters writing through me, Iho Grace and Dick Swabb, I anticipate the release of another book with a serene sense of satisfaction and quiet pride that the Oho Ake universe continues to expand, burgeon and birth new creative wonders that make my heart sing. A Flickering Light Called Fate, will be the first book of poetry (exclusively poetry) that I will have published, though poetry has been a stalwart of my literary life. Its the foundation on which all literary creations rise out of me and towards the soaring heights of imagination. My prose is poetic in flow and imagery, poems frame the stories, chapters, narrative breaks in my novels. So, my first ode is a deeply honest and revealing expose of two years of my life with a someone who has become a phantom in my life now.

There are no imaginings in this book, its the realness of the real in my own interpretations. I’m excited to publish it when I do, and long may I continue to write and birth tomes, odes, fables and nightmares into the world for me first and foremost, then for those who venture into this beckoning dream where imagination illuminates truth.

I do it for the love of it

Shadow and soul series : The books of Harmon sueno, Pablo wairua and Lord buford somerset

Taking the Oho Ake universe into Amazon KDP exclusively wasn’t a move that I had strategised. With Draft2Digital, I would have had a wide distribution for the ebooks, across the world, including with Amazon, as well as dozens of other digital book retail stores. Due to their censorship of some of the content in the books (which was taken completely out of context) my work was banned on this digital platform. So, I reached out to Amazon Kindle Direct Publishing and have been able to find wide distribution and also publish my books without any censorship on their digital platform.

In order to further the promoting of these books on the digital book platform, Sean (my marketing/web designer) and I decided to make what was already a series into a more publicised series of books. In order to understand how the books written by Harmon Sueno, Pablo Wairua and Lord Buford Somerset are a series I can elaborate. When I first started revealing the Oho Ake universe into this reality, I began to understand how the lives of the novelist and the two short story writers were indeed Entwined, hence the name of the first novel. In this book, the history of Lord Buford Somerset is the basis of the narrative throughout the book. At the end of the book, there is an interaction between Lord Somerset and Pablo Wairua, after which they both are bestowed with visions, and both feel the need to write these visions out, hence the collections of short stories that come in between the novels, Entwined (detailing Lord Buford Somerset‘s history) and United (detailing Pablo Wairua’s history and so much more) and after the novels (I will continue to write collections of short stories with these two authors, even though their story ends with United).

The name for the series is The Shadow and Soul Series. The information presented in all books exposes the collective shadow of society/reality and also the collective soul of both too. What has remained hidden from the eyes of humanity, occult knowledge has been brought into the light of understanding as the epochal change we find ourselves in now takes full swing. The next ten years are going to be insane, and much of what I wrote about will be news, rather than imaginings. So far there are eight books in the series, soon six of those books will be available for purchase on www.ohoakebooks.com and kdp.amazon.com with promotions for all nine books (including Sanctum) for free download, one book a week, and in the order of the series if one should be so interested in entering in the Oho Ake Books library.

The Shadow and Soul Series is here

All roads lead to parihaka. Te raukura, the feather of peace.

My whakapapa on my father’s father’s side of the family goes back to Opunake, Te Atiawa (Taranaki Maori Iwi/tribe). I’ve felt that connection flowing through my veins like a persistent warmth for my entire existence in my body, but not as strongly as when I came back to Te Ika a Maui in late 2002 from Vancouver, Canada. I did a road trip with my then closest ally around the country in order to kick my addictions to cocaine and alcohol, and part of that odyssey was to pass through Taranaki on our way to Wellington. We met some fine people in Taranaki who looked after us, were more than hospitable and beneath the maunga (mountain), as a force planted a seed of imagination in my heart which would germinate almost a year later. That seed was All Roads Lead to Parihaka.

This tale has had many versions, but the essence of the story remained true to the gift of vision gifted to me. The rebirth of the settlement of Parihaka, and the consequent worldwide movement of the principles of the original settlement and its modern equivalent as described in the short story. In these interesting times we find ourselves in today I can see that this vision holds great spiritual power. With the centralisation of control over the lives of billions of humans a time is coming where a fork in the road will begin to appear. At the beginning of the global smackdown I heard the call of bigger communities and smaller governments, until the day comes when our parliamentary grounds are a shrine to a methodology confined to the annals of history. Perhaps a museum, or more appropriate a mausoleum.

The creation of communities where the support for the human family is complete, growing food together, foraging together, hunting together, schooling in traditions that enrich through the past (Maoritanga) and the future (Waldorf/Montessori educational systems), skill bases that revolve around creating stronger connections with the environment, building homes, community spaces, planting native forests, trading with other communities the and unique expression of creative and artistic endeavours that enrich the biosphere of the individual, the community and the planet. Raising children into pioneering, empowered, compassionate humans by be being living examples of this. Essentially, living in harmony with the sentience of the planetary consciousness. The finer details are not as important as the understanding that as the road forks, the message of the story of All Roads Lead to Parihaka is a signpost of what is to come for the next generation beyond mine.

Tonight, at Lyall Bay, Wellington, while sitting on the beach waiting for the Scorpio full moon to rise over the Orongorongo Ranges I saw three plumes of light radiating from the east, Te Raukura, The Feather, or in this case the three feathers that capture the biblical passage

He whaikororia ki te Atua i runga rawa
Glory to God on high

He maungarongo ki runga i te mata o te whenua
Peace on earth

He whakaaro pai ki te tangata
Goodwill to all mankind

(Luke 2:14)

For me, it was a sign, like in 2003, spirit, my tipuna (ancestors) were sending me a message. A new Parihaka, where Te Raukura, which represents spiritual, physical, and communal harmony and unity is returning. A higher spiritual power, a symbol of faith, hope, and compassion for all of mankind and the environment that we live in is coming in to replace the current paradigm we live within.Honoured by Tohu Kakahi and Te Whiti-o-Rongomai, two of the prophetic leaders of Parihaka, the Raukura feathers were a symbol of the passive resistance movement against the colonial power of the Crown of the British Empire. The Raukura feathers were a symbol of peaceful re-evaluating the mana of the Maori nation, as they strived to lived autonomously. In the future, I feel that the human family (all races) will live under the guiding principles of these two great men, and also fulfil their own principles to further the harmony of the world that they will inherit.

Parihaka will not only be a destination, it will be the spark that ignites the flames of change that will sweep and burn the old paradigms away so that this wondrous new adventure of inter-dimensional existence can rise, Oho Ake. Oho Ake.

Yes they do… more more than ever.

Holding the space to let the story unspool in your heart and mind. The art of being in the void.

In my writing process I will often take nights, days and weeks away from a narrative of a novel so it can formulate for me. Holding down a very physical day job means that I’m reluctant to come home and write at nights. I wrote Sanctum (2nd edition) in a blur of nights, over months of toiling away as it flowed into my mind like a cascade of images and plot lines, geographical locations and character arcs. I haven’t written a book like that since. It was a unique experience writing Sanctum. That novel was fantastical, the energy that flowed through me to write that book was unbound and limitless. Since then, I’ve learned to fall back into the void of infinite possibility when writing and created the space to watch the story unfold for me in the natural progression it needs.

Being self-published, owning my publishing company, allows me to write at my own leisure. I don’t have the tedium of deadlines, so my approach is to write when inspiration flows into me. Fortunately during the global smackdown I was gifted with a tsunami of downloads about what books I needed to use for research, had the time to write, and watched the narrative of the book take shape. Now, back at my day job, I’ve gone into a meditative stillness with the writing process of Rigmarole. I know the ending, and my character arcs are forming, all the information I need to translate into a fictitious plot (most of the information presented in the book, especially technological is non-fiction, as with most of my books, truth and imagination are entwined in a literary dance) . So, i’ve chosen to spend time and energy in other life experiences, remaining open to inspiration, spirits guidance and the I’ll watch the characters of the novel go about their existences, and life trajectories in my mind and then scribe away what I see, feel and experience.

Being calm and patient in the void of stillness, where all possibilities originate is a fertile and hallow territory. When the urge to commit my time to the literary process ignites in me again I know that the quality of the work will be exemplary, and the content will knit together as my fingers hover over my keyboard in anticipation. It’s the most ecstatic feeling for me, being in the zone where I am precariously tuned into the inspirations flooding my awareness and being present as the events transpire before me (I’m transported into the book as I’m writing my perception of what I’m seeing, feeling) is incomparable. I feel blessed. So, I’m going to listen to some music, do some reading, go for a shop, and maybe watch an episode of a series from HBO, and wait it out patiently till I’m called to continue to elucidate Dick Swabb’s epic novel, Rigmarole.

Wait it out… for inspiration to come

Anchoring in, dropping down, grounding in nature.

During the global smackdown, I have felt the call away from the hustle and bustle of the technological, residential, cultural mayhem of the city. I’m fortunate enough to live in a city that has nature coursing through it like veins of a great heart, one carved up until its parts remain in the highest and most inhospitable locales across these islands. Animal husbandry, dairy and sheep farming on this archipelago of islands at the bottom of the South Pacific ocean has seen a decimation of natural environs to a point where only the ranges of hills, and mountains remain forested, with the exception of a few lowland areas under indigenous control. From my front door I can walk ten minutes and be in native regeneration forest, climb hills absent of houses, streets, and devoid of people. I spent a lot of time walking through these regions during the four weeks of house arrest, and saw that many others had the same idea as me, as the town belt was the busiest I had ever seen it. I for one am all in for less screen time, more time in nature. Here’s why.

Earthing or Grounding is no longer a subject of woo woo, its a science. The central theory from one review studyTrusted Source is that grounding affects the living matrix, which is the central connector between living cells. As electrical beings, we too need a way to anchor this energy, especially if we are over-capacitated with electrical charge. Walking on the earth, or placing your bare feet on the sand, grass, earth, alleviates the electrical stressors impacting the body. Granted that we are living in an non-ionised soup this becomes even more necessary for our health. I think it also connects us to the sentient life form that is our planet, creating a circuitry that unites the two forces, drawing deeply into our being and calming us, and this goes both ways. Communication doesn’t have to relate to spoken language, it can be subtle, feeling and emotion convey messages to those sensitive enough to comprehend their nuances. A thought form is just as much a form of communication as a spoken sentence can be a vocalising of that thought form.

Yesterday I had an urge to go out to Tunnel Gully, Upper Hutt and walk in the forest. I’ve never been there, but the urge to go there was strong and deep. Not being one to argue with intuition I made my way out there and discovered on Tane’s Track some old growth giants, Hinau, Rata, Rimu trees that defied gravity, stretching their limbs hundreds of feet into the air. I was in awe of these sentient creatures, moved by the wind howling through their canopies, steadfast at their bases, their roots deep and strong. Looking at these giants with a child-like wonder, my heart blossomed into a melodious laughter and joy. As most people simply walked onwards without ever stopping to appreciate the majesty of these wondrous beings, I sat there inspired by their fortitude (it was blowing a gale at the canopy level and the branches were moving on a tide of squalls) and grateful for the lesson in surrender to what is.

The last few weeks have been tormenting for me in ways that I haven’t really dealt with since my long term partner of two years broke up with me in January of this year. After we went our separate ways I felt elated, I was ready to move on on one level, on another saddened that my closest ally and I would no longer spend as much time together as we did. Then, in a whirlwind, I met someone who triggered in me a past life experience and a huge download of emotions that I just couldn’t process at the time, so it would be months before I could truly process my feelings of the end of my relationship with Inge, and understand that she no longer wanted to spend time with me due to her need to move forward. Being in the forest yesterday was perhaps the most healing experience post-relationship I’ve had.

I find that being in a forest is the closest experience for me of being emotionally renewed during my times of grief and sadness. I visualise and feel gossamer threads of light rippling towards me as I walk through these hallowed groves, these filaments pierce my emotional body and liberate the most firmly attached notions, ideas, thoughts, nestled in every crook and part of my etheric and free them. In their miraculous and healing way, the forests alleviate me of my heaviest burdens and set my heart to stillness and receptivity. My experience yesterday in the forest was another opportunity for me to be grateful for their unspoken call for me to heed. ‘Haere mai, Come here.’ I did, and all is well. Thank you 🙂

Nature is my Church

Researching leads to understanding. Choices come next.

Part of my writing processes is in depth research. Deepening on whose writing through me, what I’m writing, whether its poetry, a horror/macabre/erotic dark fantasy short story, an inspiring, heartfelt emotive tale or a a conglomeration of occult knowledge, science fiction, fantasy, conscious awakening, galactic magical realism, I’ll have to spend hours reading, discovering, and downloading into my being a plethora of facts in order to compile a book. Its perhaps the most interesting and also and often the most elucidating part of the creative process for me. Questions begin to form when you read the books and articles, websites and interviews that I do. What information do I leave out? How do I compile all this information and convey it in a way that holds the readers attention? How do I find a way to educate and potentially have my readers investigate and discover for themselves where this information comes from?

I read more non-fiction that fiction. Given the nature of the books I write, and the reason I write them, the content of the majority of the books has background knowledge throughout the narrative that the characters surf along as the wave of the plot churns and barrels over across the pages. The extensive reading that I do has given me a deeper understanding of the world we live in, the way its been constructed and the impacts of historical events, technological ‘advancements’ and the duality of the truth portrayed within the mainstream everything compared to the independent research of individuals whose fearless research exposes the lies perpetrated by mainstream everything. It can be daunting to discover information that most humans are to distracted to ever consider. Modern society is a cornucopia of stresses, distractions and overloading of the amygdala. Its all about survival and reactivity.

Seeing this play itself out in a myriad of ways, then reading about the subjects that fascinate me, I’m intuitively drawn to, and guided to, allows me to grasp a deeper understanding of human existence in this modulated frequency band called 3D. However, this reality we exist in is being subjugated to an overlay, as the technological matrix of the communications (military-industrial complex piggy backs on this technology) industry creates a invisible electromagnetic imprint over the oscillating waveform pattern that we occupy. The planet is being terra-formed by this environmental toxic non-ionised radiation and as a consequence it gives those of us who understand the dangers of this a chance to make choices. In my latest novel I’m writing with Dick Swabb, I beat this drum of knowledge soundly, and detail Rudolf Steiner‘s Anthroposophical teachings about its dangers, and whose maxim it is to build this superimposed construct over the planet.

Discovering this knowledge of how significantly we are being subject to a brave new world that society never before experienced, with no regulations, no testing, no potential health risks identified by independent experts in their fields of science, health and the environment is as shocking as it is dangerous. So, I’ll scratch the surface with my next novel, illuminate some of the technological mayhem being thrust upon us and identify its ghastly and historical pathways to its modern day rollout. It’s why I came here, and its my passion to educate, entertain, question and elucidate the road ahead as much as the trail we came down to get to where we are now.

Taken from the air around you and displayed on a screen… a digital superimposed reality

Inhale, exhale, repeat until dead. Presence of heart over mind.

The governments enforced house arrest is all but over for me. My other job (when I’m not writing, researching, producing book trailers, doing voiceovers, editing, proofreading and dealing with taxation departments and ebook platforms in the USA) is a trade, and I’m allowed to go work on the building site that me and builders, engineers, electricians and plumbers can easily social distance from one another. Going back to work, I’ve had to download an application called Hazardco which basically makes the spying already done on my iphone overt. I have to log in when I arrive from home (telling the government where I’ve come from) and then when I leave, tell them where I’m going to. They care you know. I can’t see this outrageous invasion of my privacy being rolled back, and getting used to the idea that wherever you go you will be monitored is here to stay.

If people think that viruses can jump six feet, then they might believe that they can also somersault and backflip into your nostrils too. If you do the research (not government or corporate shills, or experts rolled out by institutions that are bought and paid for) you will discover that a virus, in the back of your throat is VERY hard to pass onto anyone, unless you snog them. Then if you REALLY start looking, you will find ICU doctors who come forward and make youtube clips like Cameron Kyle-Sidell, who say that this ‘disease’ acts like no viral pneumonia he’s ever seen, SO WHAT IS COVID-19? I won’t go down the rabbit hole here, because that’s not what this blog is about, but my own research is grim, and the book I’m writing with Dick Swabb details what I feel to be an aspect of what is making people sick. A accumulation of technological ionised radiation and millimeter waves destroying immune systems, which are then vulnerable to bioweapons, eg manufactured weak viruses. Which are then played out as being deadly.

The rollout of a technology that steals oxygen from the air we breathe (5G, 60 Ghz removes oxygen from the air) https://www.rfglobalnet.com/doc/fixed-wireless-communications-at-60ghz-unique-0001 I had to share the link, to show you how psychopathic these people are. Seriously. So, we are in unprecedented times as the system of control, and the end game becomes overt as I have said in another blog. I’m going to work now, seeing a semblance of the life that was before the lies were portrayed, before the apathetic and the unquestioning masses of my country fearfully gave their liberties away in order to feel safe. I can see the bars of the prison beginning to manifest. They’ve always been there, but I have been to distracted to notice them, but now I’m aware of them more than ever. I have to wonder though, as the road begins to fork ahead of me how blatant will it have to become for my fellow New Zealanders to see that they are being corralled like the sheep into pen of succumbing tyranny.

Its no longer subtle, and as enamoured as people in this country are with our ‘leader’, I for one am not. Willing or not, she’s destroyed the lives of many thousands of people as she ‘squashed a flea with a sledgehammer’, as one epidemiologist from Auckland said. Holding her, and the advisors in an increasingly technocratic government accountable has never been more necessary. I for one think they should be arrested and then tried in a court of law, with a jury of people whose lives they’ve ruined. Meanwhile, our country like many, makes human guinea pigs of us all by rolling out 5G technology (there are no independent studies on the safety of this technology). Coincidentally, the highest number of people with the symptoms of ‘COVID-19’ in my country are in the places where there is 5G. That should warrant an independent research committee, but this isn’t a world where that will happen. Politicians are bought and paid for, telecommunications industries are piggy-backed on by the military, so we will get another dose of radiation, this time, pulsed millimeter waves. So exciting. Yipee!

Lastly, and coming full circle. The World Health Organisation, WHO (bought and paid for by Bill Gates) in 2011 made ELF/EMR’s (electromagnetic low frequency/electromagnetic radiation) a Class 2B carcinogen… and we are swimming in that soup daily. No escape unless you live in the middle Fiordland i guess… inhale, exhale, continue till I’m dead.

Another day another dollar.