#blood
Summary:
#Biotechnology, #nanotechnology, bionanorobotics, Artificial Intelligence #AI #biotech interface, #brain #computer interface, bioengineering of artificial life is so far advanced, that most people have difficulty comprehending the magnitude of the developments happening. However, we must learn to survive. I recently saw a post in a prominent physician group that my research is “Quackery. “
These poor doctors have no idea #how far behind the current #knowledge they are and how much we all need to study to understand the threats that we are facing as #humanity. If all you read is JAMA and NEJM you will be lost in the conversation about these biotechnological advances, the threat they pose and the discovery of solutions. I am not personally offended by these attacks but saddened when the hope of supposed freedom doctors remain so closed minded.
It does not give me much hope that #people will awaken to this before it is too late, which it possibly already could be #now, given the worsening findings in human #blood around the #world. We cannot see n#anobots in brain tissue - how do you know that a parallel AI processing platform has not already been installed in the C19 injected? I believe it has.
The global biotechnology market was valued at USD 1.55 trillion in 2023 and is projected to grow at a compound annual growth rate (CAGR) of 13.96% from 2024 to 2030.
You cannot wish this away. The fusion of AI with humanity is here.
It is happening silently, just as Klaus Schwab has said. If you want to even start to fight for the survival of the human species, and our #soul and #spirit, you must learn about the weapons that the enemy is using.
https://podbay.fm/p/the-cosmic-salon/e/1712779919
The main chemical difference between human blood and chlorophyll is the type of metal ion in their respective molecules. Blood contains iron in the form of heme groups in hemoglobin, while chlorophyll contains magnesium in the center of its porphyrin ring structure. This difference in metal ions is what gives blood its red color and chlorophyll its green color.
And here is a little reminder of what Chlorophyll do:
Chlorophyll’s job in a plant is to absorb light—usually sunlight. The energy absorbed from light is transferred to two kinds of energy-storing molecules. Through photosynthesis, the plant uses the stored energy to convert carbon dioxide (absorbed from the air) and water into glucose, a type of sugar. Plants use glucose together with nutrients taken from the soil to make new leaves and other plant parts. The process of photosynthesis produces oxygen, which is released by the plant into the air.
https://education.nationalgeographic.org/resource/chlorophyll/
#death shot is obscene
https://www.bitchute.com/video/LgbiV5A5TWiJ/
This is what happens when you add the covid vaccine to human #blood
#quote: "Things have gotten much worse since then. Now we really are #plastic—or at least, our bodies contain far more plastic than most of us would prefer. Recent studies have found #tiny plastic particles deep inside #human l#ungs and #blood. A new paper from Columbia University has identified nanoplastics—even smaller than microplastics, which we have been worried about for a while—as particularly prevalent, especially in bottled water. The average American adult may be consuming over 11,000 pieces of #microplastic per year, another study calculated this month". unquote
https://youtube.com/watch?v=caNTUxjth9Y
#corruption
(Far-ranging conversation with Peter Schweizer on American politics. Stephen Gardner is rapidly becoming an important name in online journalism, regularly featuring knowledgeable guests.)
"In ' #Blood #Money: #Why the Powerful Turn a #Blind Eye While #China Kills Americans,' investigative journalist Peter Schweizer sheds light on rampant corruption, particularly focusing on the Biden family's foreign entanglements. With decades of experience uncovering political and economic corruption, Schweizer delves into the Clinton's ventures, the Obamas, and the Bidens, exposing layers of corruption. He discusses Trump's claims about Hillary Clinton's potential presidential run and offers insights into the Letitia James fraud trial against Trump, as well as the Fani Willis trial. Through his book, Schweizer aims to reveal China's destructive influence on America, highlighting how elites ignore the consequences while prioritizing their own interests.
🔴JUST NOW: Biden is TOTALLY COMPROMISED by Communist China!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=reioJG9VunA&ab_channel=Spooky2Rife
#Healing #Frequency for #High #Blood #Pressure - #Spooky2 #Rife Frequency Healing
OVER 50 #CASTOR-OIL SECRETS?
https://www.bitchute.com/video/mp0ltiTwJp8B/
14.07 #blood type
15.48 #frankencense and #asthma
16.22 dr sebi
17.19 #borax
18.19 #cloves most powerful #herb
20.21 fix your gut
21.51 #dementia
23.03 #glasses not good
26.22 trudo challenged
26.53 Impeach for treason
27.56 signs of #government
28.57 national #fraud
29.28 murdering #dogs
30.30 #prison #state
32.01 #psycological #power
33.31 that is embaresing
34.39 #subconcious #mind
38.00 hitler to the youth
42.10 unity
43.30 Joe Rogan #Canada Justin Trudeau
44.10 look at the shadows
44.29 sex not on #birth cert
45.16 sexulization of children
46.04 work npcs
47.20 is invisability real
48.10 NHS REMOVES Covid #Vaccine From childhood Vaccine Schedule
49.19 mobile phone emf
50.14 the #truth
51.33 manefestation tech
Dr. William Deagle: #Chemtrails #contain #mycobacteria, viruses, #Pseudomonas #bacteria and #human #plasma
#blood
Dr. William Deagle: Chemtrails contain mycobacteria, viruses, Pseudomonas bacteria and human plasma
AstraZeneca Faces Legal Challenge in #UK Over #COVID-19 #Vaccine
Citing the UK’s #Consumer #Protection Act, the man launching this #legal #action says that AstraZeneca’s COVID-19 vaccine is “defective” and less safe than should have been expected. After suffering a #blood clot that left him with #brain damage, the man has been unable to continue working.
In a separate case, around 90 families are similarly reported to be pursuing legal action against AstraZeneca. Many say the firm’s COVID-19 vaccine caused them to develop deadly blood clots. Others developed Guillan-Barre syndrome, which can result in paralysis. Some have even had limbs amputated. This lawsuit currently involves over two dozen #fatalities, some of whom were aged as young as 18-years-old.
The compensation bill for British victims killed or maimed by the AstraZeneca vaccine could theoretically exceed £1 billion ($1.24 billion). But as the UK government’s contract with the firm included an indemnity clause, the final bill will ultimately end up being footed by taxpayers.
To read about the first German lawsuit brought against vaccine maker BioNTech over side effects caused by its COVID-19 injection, see this article on our website.
world watches as mass slaughter continues
all are complicit in this murder
"The murderous #IDF just bombed and killed three more of our dear colleagues in Gaza: Dr. Basel Mehdi (ObGyn), Dr. Hammam Ellouh (kidney specialist) and Dr. Raed Mahdi (ObGyn). The killing was in a private maternity clinic and at home. At least 20 other family members killed. We honor their courage and sumud. We deplore their coward killers. We promise to carry our brave colleagues’ torch forward."
Dr. Mads | video from
@democracynow
#death #cullt #constant #Blood #sacrifice to #Moloch #EVIL IS NOW #LIVE
The #Forever #Chemical #Scandal | Bloomberg Investigates
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t8qGtEVh7oQ
#PFAS #chemicals are used in thousands of products aimed at making life easier. But the #chemicals are now almost everywhere, including in human #blood, and are being linked to severe #health problems.
#Music on #Red-Cosmic-Skywalker
#Gotye 5/21/1980 #Birth Belgian-born Australian multi-instrumentalist and si
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NaUAZBQqHUg
Gotye - #Mixed #Blood ( #Full #Album)
#blood #poems for an #October 13 evening
Small girlchild, rags and dust – follow
her morning of traverse, this tiny world allowed.
Each tent flap reveals fester of wounds deep
and shallow, ravage disease.
Senses, thought, subsumed to beat of breath
outside rational context.
Stuck in the dirt, her worth a hole where
she bottoms out, tributary blood expelled.
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Government happens
Power differentials are natural
Makes sense to attend to these matters
consciously,
rationally.
Hot heads, coarse tongues, flail of arm,
crush of foot, outthrust chest, rancorous
demands
lively show and tell;
Yes, such forceful yell might get bells
ringing, choirs singing, merry pageantry.
After roaring Sun’s descended, crowds
disbanded to bars and beds
to dream lusty victories or private
histories, nobody charged to watch
for this twinkling of time.
Without law, there is no crime.
Without rules, no crown ascends
by common call – but only by
all against all
in squall of terrors,
contests of survival, games
scored in blood.
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Muses dance,
explore motion.
Segue to and fro
two steps back; a flurry forward.
Satin cats, tails a’fling
pirouette, scurry choreography.
No tomorrow. No scheduled glee for
public appearances.
Time’s a’clanging, impatient clamors
for unknown seasons.
Rainstorm howls,
cleanses,
sends tidings, murky repentance and
beard for tears.
Savage rain tip-tapping
rhythms and blues.
Barrels for dipping, for ritual
washing, for tribal hydration, replenishment.
Agriculture,
hunger, health, hygiene. Sordid rain,
ashen water, terror, pain, diluted
blood.
Storm warnings advise caution.
Cover yer windows and blinds.
Hide in cellars and pray.
Find salvation in fearsome company.
Oh, Hell – give in! Cave into slippery ground;
swallow and be swallowed.
The rains came, carried fortune to further shores
and supplicants.
Long into unspoken tomorrows.
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Dread – crusty needles eject embalming poison
Stiff, rusted shut, ooze tarnished prison door.
Electrified to molten waste.
Lost wastrel, chased into rough wood.
How could good ever tough through?
Seethe tooth and fang.
Anger will tighten screws, coils.
No mercy to win when cardinal sin is innocence.
Don’t chatter of cruelty,
turn red in shame.
Remember the wise one winked “No blame.”
while wheeling outside reach of stage.
There are no great secrets,
barbed network of lies.
There is this blood bludgeon
of power wielded by minions and slaves
with too little to win.
If a moonlit beach at midnight called siren songs,
embracing melody, calming waves —
if urgent desire brokered change.
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Cypher
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O’ evil Man
It is not your gods who make you so.
They laugh at their celestial balls,
silly little mood slaves
primed to vomit sour wine,
feast after bloody binge.
Who is the moral gatekeeper,
the celebrated purveyor of righteousness?
Who the masked scoundrel,
cross-dressed wolves and lambs
in demonic jig?
A lively game to wile away some
vague eternity.
Our children obscured in armament.
So many souls to devour.
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Tonight’s Impression
Dig, deep into unlikely crevices.
Unsightly blemishes
covered in mud, old crusted blood,
more suffering than shame.
If none know my name,
can they curse me?
Always rehearsing for
untended curtains, productionless
plays.
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Gospel
.
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Sally, won’t you go
downtown
Pick up some teabag party
clowns
We’ll teach ’em tricks of trade
from streets walled in by
degradation
Ain’t this nation grand
for glad hands raised in celebration
of shames we dare not name.
.
Hallelujah Hallelucinations
Hallowed ground baptized
in blood
Saved from the cleansing Flood
by sticking to our kind
however we’re defining us today
If we were meant to live
a different way
wouldn’t He have told us?
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(Hollow) Theme Party
.
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Bleeding across the page
Not pretty
Naked self-pity
a turn off
better passed by
Rather, let us speak of
solitude, the advantages
of wealth
kept to oneself
No beasts lessen my load
No supplicants beg to share
Luxuriously wrapped in my lair
laughing and dancing on gold
acutely aware of thin cold urchins
out on a distant plain
They are no kin to me;
out there for atmosphere
I am Deity within this domain
blood you see splattered
on this page
fell from other veins
some poor unfortunate
released from pain
How pretty! Let’s party!
A gala affair, enraptured
alone in my lair
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Our Gang
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Outrage
Depression facing outward
Taking power to give it away.
This entrained impulse
See them crackling, jangling
puppets at puppy play,
bite, bark, entangle,
grab and tussle,
growl, muscle in for the kill.
Bloodlust arousal.
Natural as puke, as death,
violation as violent orgy
violation as ecstatic
initiation to the brotherhood.
Life elevated to dreams, goals,
careful weighing of coin and hours,
dependable plans, actions that honor can favor,
love, duty, allegiance to the rules of sanity
and kind regard
have no purpose here.
Men of blood and battle fluid
need no fine speeches, no valor —
only food and receptacles
for their waste.
…
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#blood #poems for an #October Evening (week end)
Bad Seed
.
.
Guilt as a constant drip of toxin
a constant flow of tears
a constant beat of blood
pounding behind my eyes
exhorting me to arise
to rise to the occasion
to fall upon my knees in shame
begging for any scrap to salve
that gnawing, angry pain
a constant burning drip
a ring of fire — pass not beyond this point
for life is not a journey
but a downward spiral.
What could such an open, curious, loving child have done
to merit such punishment?
.
.
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Timothy McVeigh Is Still Dead
.
.
It’s morning in America
The morning of June 11, 2001
A warm and beautiful Spring day
And in Terre Haute, Indiana — a little after 7:00 am
–Timothy McVeigh is dead.
What more is there to say?
We all know the score:
Death: 169, Mercy: 0
The hero “bloody, but unbowed”
Silenced, but still proud
Ashes to scattered ashes
Death to death.
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Nursery Song
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Scooping up the cornucopia of experience
gently nestled in moonbeams
at peace in a lullaby
easily descending
into the world of lights and pain
too bright, too loud, too cacophonous
to embrace whole.
Whisp whispers shhh, whispers
of ideas, harnessed light,
well-structured challenges
ease into bits by bits
hypnotic meme streams
world stories
of clearly constructed grammar
sharing common tongue
that we may ease our fractured
anxious turbulence
in chorus of soothing nursery song.
See, we are the progeny of heroes.
Hear the laughter of the Almighty
among hosts of angels
here we are home.
Sweet, splintered home.
Here we learn to serve the giants,
give piously abased homage
to the slingers of arrows
that could rend us
bit by bloody bit.
No wonder we sing louder,
dance jerkily on starched,
bleached strings.
Wouldn’t we agree to anything
that we be allowed
to sleep
just a few aeons more.
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The Business of Sickness
.
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Good Day, Good Sir, Good Madam,
I do hope all is well
If not, we’ve got a spell
to cure what ails
You have come to just the place
Let us take your case
history
to solve the mystery,
make you quite alright,
and collect our fee
What else could be our motivation
We entered into this vocation
quite consciously
to fulfill a need society
finds compelling enough
to be shelling out to us
big magic currency
So let us take control
of your health
your wealth
Whatever you hold dear
we’ll make our business here
Make a fist and let me take your blood.
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Capital Crime
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Sweet old daddy
Doing his will in the night
Keeping the mamas afright
for the plight of each
beloved child, so tender
so young
He really oughta be hung!
so say the neighbors, clicking
their tongues
Take him to the magistrate
Fill his ears with the voice of hate
while he’s tied, defanged, prostrate
Let our will be done!
Tie him down in a prison cell
Make him feel the wrath of Hell
’til we all are bloody well
exhausted of our fun.
No need to delete old daddy
sweeping shit and burning bones
any toil we deem atones
to repay society’s loans
of wicked sowing days
assuring he damn well pays
for the pain and loss his wicked ways
marred our happy homes.
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Choosing Sacrifice
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Sweet teardrop rainbow
celestial, demure
bright drops of light
clearing vision
from clouds
clean sparkling flowers
of grace
Taste enervating electricity
Feel blood bathing brain
Smell the air of change
so easy
like falling off a cliff
anyone can
In the Future
houses will be wired
to spy
‘No thought crimes allowed, sir.
You’ll be coming with us
for regrooving.”
Cats and mice will play nicely,
or feel the juice
from which none come back
the same
This is the way the world turns
from sanity or compassion
because we are cheaper than robots.
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Rose Red
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I am prickly, admittedly.
I come by it rightly.
Organically evolved defensive weapon
(note, no offensive weapon attached).
You must approach me with care.
Feel the velvet of my vibrant leaves, gently.
My flower, radiant in grace and wonder.
Musical poetry wafting, my enchanted perfume
calling for the discerning touch.
But grasp too hard, too clumsily,
without reflection, a thousand tiny cuts
push you far away.
In no time, you will heal,
leaving me to bleed forever,
attempting to clear from my system
your poisonous residue.
#blood #poems for an #October evening (falling forward)
https://yprophecies.wordpress.com/2016/10/03/blood-poems-for-an-october-evening-falling-forward/
Red-Blooded
.
.
Let’s talk about this.
Exactly what are we afraid of?
Different skins, different thoughts?
“These people are not like us.”
Nor we like them.
Legends say we fear
and fight the barbarians.
A receding panorama
of battle upon battle.
Millennia of genocide
proudly proclaimed.
We must be strong warriors,
rough, sharp, explosive,
valiantly a barricade barrage
protecting Our valued and values
from Their predation.
Lines must be drawn clearly.
Womanly, childish fuzzy vulnerability
cast far behind, confined to
defended shelters
kept at bay with bitter laughter,
raucous play.
These patterns built up over
generations serve us well,
minimizing weakening contamination.
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detached
.
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Where were you when I was dying?
Now that I am all but (merely nearly) dead
you mock me
beg my assistance
to mitigate
the dark fall-out
of your fantasies.
Blind to my bleeding, and your own,
how can anything I say
reach you anyway?
Return your pleading to your
silent Lord.
Leave me to my resolutions.
Strangers all these years,
I feel no desire
for meeting
in your dream.
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bloodlust
bloodlove
blood taste long after midnight
not to entice your fright
to find the one
whose blood
calls to mine
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War Games
More and more
get less and less
the best sacrificed
to great God Success
Anger
building
brick by bloody brick
Is it a surprise
(“Look! Into my eyes!”)
when the peasants cackle
resurrecting the guillotine
Raw power
hot metal shooting
making unmistakable mark
burning ragged skin and guts
and glory
.
Tell me a story, daddy
about before the war
when water flowed
in abundant freedom
when the air was pure
of the stench
of progress
when everybody had
a sacred right
to feel
and believe
and dance in the moonlight
when we could afford to be
young, untried, open
to possibilities not cut off
by a sacrificial knife
repeatedly deeply severing
vital organs
without regard to the waste
with no respect for place
or the people for whom that space
holds stories
.
Weapons forged in anger
built up shattered layers of
desperate pride, disrespect, grief
create festering wounds
poisoning the populace
unto the Seventh Generation
caught up in some grotesque
morality play
.
.
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Gnats, fleas, mosquitoes, biting, buzzing
can inflict disease beyond their size
or intellect. Best to discover and cover with repellant
to quell their appetite for terrorizing we they see
as tempting treats of invigorated blood.
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When the national project was stolen before our horrified stares
When it became our duty to kill and destroy for the convenience of profit
When humane policy became anathema, unworthy economic drag
When the will of the gambling elite gamed the rule of law to their pocket
Did you scream so loud that bitter blood poured from your lungs?
Did you set up mourning camps to gather forces,
to train grief and rage into worthy opponents against true freedom’s foes?
Did you gaze into the cold eyes of propagandists and say “No!”?
Or did you march along in the parade, assured: “First they get theirs; then we get ours.”?
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Pink and Blue
(and red all over)
.
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Fist shakes from rage
channeled, coursing,
flailing bloodlines.
Caught, snarled,
stagnant dying ocean
willing to be taken down
from fear to violence.
Call wild arms,
breast, sinew, shame.
Chemistry surges, overplays.
One mortal coup de grace
burst sword to heart
that never lived
beyond desire.
.
If man is fire, dissolved
into greater waves,
why does Woman weep?
Why does not the flood
of pain absolve and
succor? Why should fate
deny blessings of mortal
release in wash of blood
to lady fair,
snakes and thistles to braid her hair,
expose her tortured face?
Eyes that kill in silence,
stone lips, wrinkled nose,
washed out in times of
stoic denial. Why must
she kneel, vile, victim
of violence, not its cause?
Who makes these laws of
natural selection?
Who takes the stone?
Who takes the stone’s projection?
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Battle Fatigue
.
.
Honoring righteous anger.
Not mean little sprites,
Chironic knights protecting me.
Cradling me so sweetly.
“Oh, no, dear, never forgive, never forget.”
Torture is no way to say you’re sorry.
.
Love whispered to me
in dreamlike memory
told me tales
told me lies.
I told myself those stories
whispering in the night
bereft of sleep.
I told myself of soft surrender.
Of gentle caressing days
dappled in sunlight,
lusty heat-soaked revelry
sharing secrets
so poignant, so intense.
The anger
burns me through
each synapse,
each myelin sheathe
blood, guts, lungs, heart.
Viral penetration, consuming
strength, vitality, duration.
I am languid and torn.
From time to time I rally
to fight my own tears,
my own mind,
my own field of battle.
.
No one comes forth for me
to offer my surrender.
Battle weary,
I can no longer breathe.
The anger breathes for me.
Gently wrapping me in
blankets,
singing me a battle song
urging me to take respite
as it soothingly scrapes off
the scabs
refreshing my wounds.
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.
.
hungry zeitgeist
.
.
slivers, splinters, failing meaning
catch it, spinning out into the stars
bleeding rags fine red droplets
shredded hands, hopes, hearts
I can’t hold on, hold out, hold a good thought
agonized neurons,
shattered mirrors
unable to
hold suction,
bind the wound
embrace me
tight and tenderly
as blood drips through your fingers
touching raw eroding senses
with gentle rain, dripping,
obscuring the view
I would curl up into destiny,
locking my lacerations
in dreams of false skins,
tightening, holding fast to the edges.
I would fall immortally into space,
dripping inward.
I would lock my dreams in pasteboard boxes,
too tight for mortal breath.
the words whirl around, whirl around, whirl
like scattered bits of paper tears
I would hide in the deepest hold and
keep to life slowly seeping through.
but the hunger calls
it growls and jumps in fits to battle
