Flights to Nowhere

In your soma induced state of altered consciousness what I am about to type should be no more than a minor irritation, a tincture of brown and black in the otherwise pleasant swirl of colors behind your eyes in your dream state.

Remember MH 370? No?

Remember MH 17? No?

Remember who was on MH 17? All those AIDS profiteers from the guilt industry, fake immunology industry and the rest?

The dead profiteers were highly focused on infectious disease pandemics spreading out of Africa. They were heading like pigs to the trough to the latest begging bowl / handout session for AIDS in Melbourne, but oddly even before they died and despite the normal lapdog media narrative about AIDS there had been none of the normal nanny state hand wringing and hoopla about the approach of the great ones.

Now a few months aftet the canaries were all killed, ebola hits the shores of the anglosphere. Quite why the airports are remaining open during what WHO calls the great plague evar is another open question.

Back to sleep little ones. The sleep of industrial animals, as de Tocqueville called it. The sleep of reason…


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