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The truth about those strange chemical trails in the sky
by William Thomas (fwd by Hamilton Resident) (willthomas [at]
Sunday Feb 24th, 2002 9:55 PM
Today was a good day to watch the planes carpet the sky with chemicals in Hamilton, Ontario. No joke!! It was a clear day, not a cloud in the sky, except for some strange, long trails being left behind by high-flying planes.
The trails gradually diffused into cirrus coulds. Did anyone in Hamilton look at the moon tonight?? Did you see that large ring around it reflecting the light away from the ground?? Wonder what it was?? If this sounds crazy, keep reading and you will see exactly why planes have been lacing the world's skies with chemicals and why the U.S. won't sign on to the Kyoto agreement. They have other plans....CRAZY ONES that they think will allow them to keep burning oil!!

Under the banner of some top-secret scientific agenda, the US military continues to weave chemical-laden contrails in the skies, causing health problems for unprotected people on the ground.

Extracted from Nexus Magazine, Volume 8, Number 6 (October-November 2001)

Fax: +61 (0)7 5442 9381
From our web page at:

by William Thomas © 2001
Heron Rocks 1-9
Hornby Island, BC
Canada V0R 1Z0
Email: willthomas [at]

For nearly three years, chemtrail observers have hoped an official would step forward to explain the origin and purpose of broad white plumes criss-crossing the skies above a dozen allied nations. Their wait is over...

It was nearly noon when S.T. Brendt awoke and entered the kitchen of her country home in Parsonsfield, Maine. As she poured her first cup of coffee, the late night reporter for WMWV Radio could not have guessed that her life was minutes away from drastic change. Her partner Lou Aubuchont was already up, puzzling over what he had seen in the sky a half-hour before. The fat puffy plumes arching up over the horizon were unlike any contrail he had ever seen, even during his hitch in the Navy.

Like breath exhaled on a winter's day, the contrails he was used to seeing would flare briefly in the stratosphere as hot moist engine exhaust flash-freezes into a stream of ice-crystals. These pencil-thin condensation trails are pretty to watch but short-lived, subliming into invisibility as exhaust gases cool quickly to the surrounding air temperature.

But in late 1997, Aubuchont started observing thicker 'trails extending from horizon to horizon. Hanging in the sky long after their creators had flown from view, these expanding white ribbons would invariably be interwoven by more thick lines left by unmarked jets, Air Force white or silver in colour.

On this March 12th morning in 2001, Lou did not mention his sighting as S.T. indulged in caffeine. Sipping gratefully, she glanced out the window. It looked like another gorgeous, cloudless day. But not quite. Brendt baulked at several chalk marks scrawled across the crystalline blue sky. "Contrails or chemtrails?" she jokingly remarked. Lou got up and looked. What kind of clouds run exactly side by side in a straight line? he wondered. It's just too perfect to happen naturally. When he said he wasn't sure, S.T. stopped smiling and went outside.

Looking up towards the southeast over West Pond, she spotted the first jet. A second jet was laying billowing white banners to the north. Both aircraft appeared to be at over 30,000 feet. Turning her gaze due west, Brendt saw two more lines extending over the horizon. She called Lou. Within 45 minutes the couple counted 30 jets. This isn't right, S.T. thought. We just don't have that kind of air traffic here. While Lou kept counting, she went inside and started calling airports. One official she reached was guarded but friendly. He had relatives in West Pond.

The Air Traffic Control manager told Brendt her sighting was "unusual". His radars showed nine commercial jets during the same 45-minute span. From her location, he said, she should have been able to see one plane.

And the other twenty-nine? The FAA official confided off the record that he had been ordered "by higher civil authority" to re-route inbound European airliners away from a "military exercise" in the area. "Of course, they wouldn't give me any of the particulars and I don't ask," he explained. "I just do my job."

Excited and puzzled by this information, S.T. and Lou got into their car and headed down Route 160. Looking in any direction they could see five or six jets flying at over 30,000 feet. Never in the dozen years they'd lived in rural Maine had they seen so much aerial activity.

A former US Navy Intelligence courier, Aubuchont was used to large-scale military exercises. But he told S.T. he had never seen anything this big. "It looked like an invasion," he later recounted.

Another driver almost went off the road as he leaned over his dashboard trying to look up. As they passed, he acknowledged them with a nod.

As far as they could see stretched line after line. Two giant grids were especially blatant. Instead of dissipating like normal contrails, these sky trails grew wider and wider and began to merge. Looking towards the Sun, Aubuchont saw what appeared like "an oil and water mixture" reflecting a prismatic band of colours. He couldn't call it a rainbow. Rainbows aren't sinister.

As Lou and S.T. completed their errands, the jets kept them company, leaving lines and even circles that resembled smoke rings. Even living near Kennedy, LaGuardia and Newark jetports, Aubuchont had never seen so many big jets performing identical manoeuvres in the same sky. When they returned to Parsonsfield around four, the lines were starting to merge into a dingy haze.

Richard Dean called back. After receiving S.T.'s message, the assistant WMWV news director had gone outside with other news staff and counted 370 lines in skies usually devoid of aerial activity.

Brendt put in another call to the FAA official. He had never heard of chemtrails. In their first face-to-face interview, the chain-smoking controller responsible for air traffic over the northeastern seaboard repeated his earlier statements on tape. Similar military activities were ongoing in other regions, he added. On his 'scopes he could track the tankers flying north into Canadian airspace.

Speaking before witnesses at WMWV on condition of strict anonymity, our "Deep Sky" source answered a series of yes/no questions I helped Brendt prepare when she contacted me.

After nearly three years on this case, I wanted to corroborate extremely high levels of aluminum [aluminium] powder found in samples of rainwater falling through thick sky plumes over Espanola, Ontario, in the spring of 1998.

The Espanola lab tests were conducted after residents began complaining to the provincial environment ministry. Severe headaches, chronic joint pain, dizziness, sudden extreme fatigue, acute asthma attacks and feverless "flu-like" symptoms over a 50-square-mile area coincided with what they termed "months of 'spraying'" by photo-identified US Air Force tanker planes.

The USAF denied the intrusions. But former Ontario Provincial Police Officer and Supreme Court expert witness Ted Simola reported lingering Xs and numerous white trails, some of which "just ended" as if they had been shut off but remained in the sky.

Another Espanola resident told me that mental confusion and short-term memory loss were so prevalent that forgetting where their cars were parked had become "a standing joke" in the tiny town.

On November 18, 1998, the people of Espanola petitioned Parliament. Addressing the Canadian government on their behalf, defence critic Gordon Earle explained:

"Over 500 residents of the Espanola area have signed a petition raising concern over possible government involvement in what appears to be aircraft emitting visible aerosols. They have found high traces of aluminum and quartz in particulate and rainwater samples.

"These concerns combined with associated respiratory ailments have led these Canadians to take action and seek clear answers from this government. The petitioners call upon Parliament to repeal any law that would permit the dispersal of military chaff or of any cloud-seeding substance whatsoever by domestic or foreign military aircraft without the informed consent of the citizens of Canada thus affected."

The Ministry of Defence eventually replied: "It's not us."

Which was true. While the US Air Force counts 650 four-engine KC-135 Stratotankers and 50 KC-10 Extenders in its active inventory, Canadian Forces do not fly armadas of tankers. But they do operate the biggest radar installation in Canada at CFB Comox on Vancouver Island, easily capable of tracking the American formations coming up from the south.

"Was the classified operation a radar experiment?" we asked Deep Sky.

"That wasn't what I was told."

Were ATC radars "enhanced or degraded", we wanted to know. The barium spread in exercises conducted out of Wright-Patterson Air Force Base acts as an electrolyte, enhancing conductivity of radar and radio waves. "Wright Pat" has also long been deeply engaged in HAARP's electromagnetic warfare program.


The puzzle pieces fell into place with Deep Sky's revelation that ATC radars were being "degraded" by tanker-released particles showing up as a "haze" on their screens. This radar characteristic matched the high concentrations of aluminum powder found along with a preponderance of quartz particles in Espanola's chemtrail-contaminated rainwater.

The tankers' aluminum powder emissions also matched the Welsbach patent. Issued in 1994 to the Hughes aerospace giant "for Reduction of Global Warming", the sky shield blueprint calls for dispensing microscopic particles of aluminum oxide and other reflective materials into the upper atmosphere to reflect one or two per cent of incoming sunlight. Computer simulations by Ken Caldeira at Lawrence Livermore National Laboratory calculated that this would be enough to stop warming over 85 per cent of the planet, despite an anticipated doubling of carbon in the atmosphere within the next 50 years.

Lawrence Livermore priced the aerial spray program at US$1 billion dollars a year--a cheap fix to maintain massive petroleum profits in the face of Kyoto's internationally agreed carbon cutbacks.

Livermore's founder, Edward Teller, lobbied hard for another chance to play with planetary processes. At the 1998 International Seminar on Planetary Emergencies, the Father of the H-bomb presented his Next Big Idea. Having earlier pressed for detonating nuclear bombs to carve new harbours out of American coastlines, Teller now called for reflective chemicals to be spread like mirror-shades over the Earth. Or at least over allies who could agree in secret for this unprecedented geoengineering experiment to be carried out over their unsuspecting constituents.

In a draft report leaked to me soon after it appeared for peer review in May 2000, an expert panel chosen among 3,000 atmospheric scientists looked at Caldeira's computer simulations and agreed that Teller's scheme might work. But the IPCC warned against unpredictable upsets of the atmosphere, as well as against angry populaces reacting to "the associated whitening of the visual appearance of the sky".

Caldeira was so concerned he went public, warning that deflecting sunlight would further cool the stratosphere, concentrating icy clouds of ozone-gobbling CFCs that could destroy Earth's solar radiation shield.

Was the sky shield experiment already underway? Deep Sky hinted that it was.

Were the tankers involved in weather modification? Our FAA source hesitated before responding. "That approximates what I was told."

For the third interview we rephrased our key question. Were the tankers repeatedly observed on ATC radars involved in climate modification? I caught my breath as Deep Sky confirmed that this is what he was told was the object of the missions.

Here at last was our "smoking nuke" admission. After years of "airliner" double-speak, we could now corroborate Deep Sky's report of military aircraft dispensing reflective materials with an earlier report by a Canadian aviation official.

On December 8, 2000, Terry Stewart, the Manager for Planning and Environment at the Victoria International Airport, had broken this story wide open when he responded to a caller's complaint the previous day of Xs, circles and grids being woven over the British Columbia capitol. Leaving a message on an answering machine tape, later heard by more than 15 million radio listeners, the public servant explained: "It's a military exercise, US and Canadian Air Force exercise that's going on. They wouldn't give me any specifics on it."

Stewart added that he found the incident--one of hundreds reported over Canada's west coast since the fall of 1998--"very odd".

Tasked with defending Canadian airspace in the region, CFB Comox chose instead to defend a classified collaboration. "No military operation is taking place," the base information officer tersely told me when I called for details. But Stewart later told the Vancouver Courier that his information had come directly from CFB Comox.


Across the strait from the island air base, a concerned mother of three children was noticing that people in Gibsons were coming down with ailments that coincided with constant chemtrail activity. Suzanne Smart's husband contracted asthma; their children were always sniffling and coughing. Smart ended up in the small coastal town's Emergency unit with a sore throat, "super-stiff" neck, pounding headache and ears "ringing like crazy". Even her teeth hurt.

It was all very nerve-wracking. Smart contacted a Transport Canada investigator who had noticed the jet trails too and was convinced it was normal contrail activity. Why he took special notice of normal contrails was not explained. But the TC official told Smart he hoped the Canadian equivalent of the FAA would be notified of any military exercises taking place.

On June 17, 2001, after photographing massive plumes over Gibsons, Smart checked with aviation authorities and found that no airline flight plans had been filed for that airspace at that time. Official weather data showed that when her photos of multiple white plumes were taken, the 30 per cent humidity at 30,000 and 35,000 feet was less than half that needed for contrails to form.

As NOAA meteorologist Thomas Schlatter explains, for even short-lived condensation trails to form, "we're talking temperatures lower than about minus 76 degrees Fahrenheit, and humidity at jet altitudes of 70 per cent or more".

Smart sent her findings to Transport Canada with a request for an explanation of how contrails could form when they couldn't. "It is my understanding," she wrote, "that the only way to form jet trails at yesterday's low humidity is to introduce very fine particulates into the atmosphere."

Smart's homework hit like hardball. According to the National Center for Atmospheric Research in Boulder, Colorado, the only way to form artificial clouds in warm dry air is to introduce enough particulates into the atmosphere to attract and accrete all available moisture into visible vapour. If repeated often enough, the resulting rainless haze can lead to drought.

Following standard procedure to ignore all evidence contradicting the official line, Transport Canada's Randy Phillips responded by advising Smart to check out the "urban legends" website ridiculing chemtrails.

Col. Walter Washbaugh, Chief of the Congressional Inquiry Division for the Secretary of the Air Force in Washington, DC, also calls chemtrails "a hoax". In an April 20, 2001, letter to a US senator, Washbaugh blamed the increased number of contrails on "significant civil aviation growth in the past decade".

He was right. A National Science Foundation study has found that, in certain heavy traffic corridors, artificial cloud cover has increased by as much as 20 per cent since the jet age took off. Dr Patrick Minnis, a CERES atmospheric researcher and ardent chemtrails critic at NASA's Langley Research Center, reports that cirrus cloud cover over the United States is up five per cent overall because particulates in engine exhaust are acting as cloud-forming nuclei. As the number of flights currently exceeds 15 million annually worldwide, the NSF, NASA and EPA predict artificial clouds will intensify as air travel continues climbing sharply.

What about chemtrails? Colonel Washbaugh ascribed widely reported grid patterns to overlapping aircraft flying north-south, east-west airways. The only thing wrong with this explanation, an air traffic controller told me in Texas, is that US airways do not run north-south.

The biggest laugh came when the colonel told the senator: "The Air Force is not conducting any weather modification and has no plans to do so in the future."

In fact, attempts to steer hurricanes by spraying heat-robbing chemicals in their paths began in the 1950s. The recipe for creating "cirrus shields" was outlined in an unusually arrogant US Air Force study. Subtitled "Owning the Weather by 2025", the 1996 report explained how "weather force specialists" were dispersing chemicals behind high-flying tanker aircraft in a process the air force calls "aerial obscuration".

Official denials reached new altitudes of absurdity when another colonel claimed: "The US Air Force does not conduct spraying operations over populated areas." USAF spokeswoman Margaret Gidding told a Spokane newspaper: "The Air Force doesn't do anything that emits anything other than a normal contrail, which is vapor."

So were their replies. Apparently Anderson and Gidding had forgotten how US Air Force spray planes crippled a country and a culture by dispensing over Vietnam thousands of tons of "Agent Orange" defoliants containing dioxin toxins as hazardous as plutonium.


In the end, it has proved impossible to continue skywriting giant billboards advertising government duplicity, while insisting they are not there. By the summer of 2001, the controversy entered a new phase. Pictures of contrails were being distributed to newspapers by the Associated Press, and "chemtrails" could be overheard in coffee shop conversations across an entire continent.

When it comes to chemtrails, seeing is disbelieving official disinformation. As public awareness grows, people like war veteran David Oglesby are looking up. The 11 fat plumes fanning out over his Coarsegold, California, home did it for Oglesby last June.

"The trails formed a grid pattern," he told WorldNetDaily News. "Some stretched from horizon to horizon. Some began abruptly, and others ended abruptly. They hung in the air for an extended period of time and gradually widened into wispy clouds resembling spider webs."

A retired US Air Force radar tech named Shimera called a colonel responsible for all military operations in central California. "What would you say if I said there are three aircraft up there right now?" Shimera asked. "Are they there?"

"No," the colonel replied. "They are not there."

The Houston study is not so easily dismissed. Mark Steadham was looking for contrails when he started observing the skies over this busy Texas hub last winter. Using FAA tracking software called Flight Explorer to identify each aircraft, Steadham clocked contrails trailing from Boeing, McDonnell-Douglas and Airbus airliners. All but two of these condensation trails sublimed into invisibility within five to 20 seconds; the only exceptions persisted for two and 25 minutes.

Flight Explorer does not show altitudes for military jets, but, according to the FAA, tankers and transports usually transit continental airspace at around 30,000 feet to ensure safe separation from airliners flying between 35,000 and 39,000 feet. Military "heavies" flying below 30,000 feet should not leave contrails at all. Major-General Gregory Barlow confirms that Air Force tankers do not perform refuelling missions at contrail-forming altitudes.

But Steadham found just the opposite in his study. While observing air traffic for 63 days, the Houston skywatcher found that thick white plumes laid by similar-sized military aircraft--at the same time, in the same airspace as 20-second airliner contrails--lingered for four to eight hours.


Sightings of oddly lingering plumes sometimes resembling rocket trails are not confined to North American skies.

While on leave in Italy in the summer of 1999, the US Navy's Kitty Chastain sat on her hotel balcony and watched aerial grids being laid all day just offshore over the Bay of Naples. "People were coughing all over Naples," she wrote. On the bus ride in from the base, Chastain explained chemtrails to many sailors with hacking coughs.

On October 12 that same year, a Paris correspondent reported "...heavy activity from all directions, X upon X. The pilots here seem to like to play chicken; they fly right at each other and then one will swerve, their trails forming pitchforks and Xs." No contrails were being left by "normal planes" in the same skies. But the next day, planes flying over Paris "from all directions" obscured the sky with more Xs that continued into the evening.

In Spain on April 27, 2000, American tourist John Hendricks dashed off a quick email from El Café de Internet: "Were we surprised to see that the chemtrails are as bad here as they are anywhere, both in Mallorca and in Barcelona." He and his wife "took plenty of pictures" before noticing a postcard they'd bought captured a perfect chemtrail.

"Add Sweden to the list," a Swedish resident wrote after spotting eight to 10 parallel 'trails and contracting flu for the first time in years. Weather conditions at the time were not conducive to contrail formation. "I know the commercial routes, and we have a bunch of them, but not where these trails were."

Chemtrail activity has been reported in at least 14 allied nations including Australia, Belgium, Britain, Canada, France, Germany, Holland, Ireland, Italy, New Zealand, Scotland, Sweden and the United States. Croatian chemtrails began the day after that country joined NATO.


Many chemtrail observers note that chemtrails are often laid down at the leading edge of approaching frontal systems. While rare "sundogs" form ice-crystal circles around the Sun in advance of strong winds, much more common "chemdogs" create prismatic solar halos during stable weather.

More and more observers, like this Vancouver resident, wonder why "on the days of heavy spraying you will notice a rainbow around the Sun". Many more people who have been healthy all their lives wonder why they keep getting desperately sick whenever the chemplanes appear.

Unlike the refined aluminum in cooking utensils that is tenuously linked to Alzheimer's disease, aluminum oxide is as inert as sand and is not considered toxic.

But in a story headlined "Tiny particles can kill", the August 5, 2000, edition of New Scientist reported that "city-dwellers in Europe and the US are dying young because of microscopic particles in the air".

Looking at byproducts of hydrocarbon burning, a Harvard School of Public Health team determined particulates with a diameter less than 10 microns as being a serious threat to public health. (A human hair is about 100 microns across.) In 1987, US environmental regulations limited airborne concentrations of particles less than 10 microns in diameter.

But air pollution has grown worse. On April 21, 2001, the New York Times warned: "These microscopic motes are able to infiltrate the tiniest compartments in the lungs and pass readily into the bloodstream, and have been most strongly tied to illness and early death, particularly in people who are already susceptible to respiratory problems."

David Hawkins, a lawyer for the Natural Resources Defense Council, speaks for "about a quarter-million Americans who have died prematurely as result of fine-particle exposure".

That number may be boosted sharply by chemtrail spraying. On December 14, 2000, the New England Journal of Medicine reported that inhaling particulate matter of a size 10 microns or smaller leads to "a 5% increased death rate within 24 hours".

Teller's sunscreen calls for spraying 10 million tons of talcum-fine reflective particulates of 10 to 100 micron sizes.

Allergic reactions to airborne fallout do not explain the entire syndrome of chemtrail-related illness. Falling blood temperatures accompanying symptoms of intense yet feverless "flu" is a classic sign of chronic fungal infection. Blamed for a host of auto-immune dysfunction, from chronic fatigue to fibromyalgia and multiple sclerosis, the fungus within us also signals its presence in sharp joint pain, sudden extreme fatigue, sudden dizziness, mental confusion and short-term memory loss.

After nearly three years of intense investigation, I have found no proof that chemtrails constitute a deliberate biological attack. Research for my books on the Gulf biowar and earlier germ warfare experiments (Bringing The War Home; Scorched Earth) show that bio-attacks are conducted at low level and never in daylight, in order to avoid ultraviolet sterilisation of toxins.

The biohazards in chemtrails may be bad LUC. The "Law of Unintended Consequences" states that every human intervention creates unpredictable consequences. Chemtrails can cause drought by soaking up all available moisture, and drooping chemical curtains fall through vast colonies of UV-mutated bacteria, viruses and fungi living in the upper atmosphere. Could these malevolent micro-organisms be piggy-backing on the plumes?

A series of balloon flights made in the US during the 1960s collected startling stratospheric samples swarming with bacteria and fungi as well as viruses bigger than any known at the time.

If viruses fall from the sky, most would land in the sea. Dipping their beakers into coastal seawater, scientists found as many as 10 million large virus-like particles per quart. As one researcher said: "No one knows where they come from or what they do. Their size and shape match the virus-like particles found in the upper atmosphere."

Other life-forms, even tinier than bacteria, are also thriving in our atmosphere. The discoverer of nanobacteria, Dr Robert Folk, describes the most populous organisms on Earth as "dwarf forms of bacteria, about one-tenth the diameter and 1/1000th the volume of ordinary bacteria".

The Professor Emeritus at the University of Texas figures that these ultra-tiny bugs are "possibly an order of magnitude more abundant" than normal bacteria that swarm everywhere.

Since chemtrails are commonly spread over populated areas where temperature differentials are greatest and solar shading most needed, it is probable that particulate-laden plumes are precipitating airborne viruses, bacteria and fungi down into human lungs and respiratory systems unable to recognise or resist the alien invaders.

This possibility was further strengthened when Dr Folk chose a lightweight metal as a matrix to grow bugs too small to be seen by optical microscopes. Folk viewed under electronic magnification entire ecologies of swarming nanobac. The bacteria were feasting on (he called it "metabolising") aluminum.


Are we worried yet? An August 2001 WorldNetDaily poll asked Americans: "Do you think 'chemtrails' are anything to worry about?" Forty-three per cent answered "Yes"; another 30 per cent wanted more information on chemtrails--a total 73 per cent of US respondents concerned about chemtrails.

As lawyers across the US discuss filing the "Mother of All Lawsuits" against Boeing, Bush and the US Air Force, their case now appears tight enough to force further disclosures. The last glaring evidential gap--photos of ground-based chemtrail operations--may soon be forthcoming.

What to do?

A British campaigner involved in another bid to reclaim individual sovereignty and local autonomy held out the best hope for change when she told a CBC radio interviewer: "The only way to get government to do anything is if enough people stand up and shout, 'This is ridiculous!'"

Stay tuned. With chemtrails confirmed as a military operation aimed at climate modification, the biggest trial is about to begin--in the court of public opinion.

¥ Vancouver Courier chemtrails coverage:

¥ WorldNetDaily chemtrails coverage:

¥ Mark Steadham's Houston contrails study:

¥ "Tiny Bits of Soot Tied to Illness", New York Times, April 21, 2001, 2001/04/21/science/21AIR.html

¥ NOAA meteorologist Thomas Schlatter:

About the Author:
William Thomas specialises in health and environment issues. His award-winning writing has appeared in more than 50 publications in eight countries. His editorial commentaries have been published in The Globe and Mail, Toronto Star, Vancouver Sun and Times-Colonist newspapers as well as Earth Island Journal and Ecodecision magazines. He has also appeared on CBC radio and TV, CNN and New Zealand national television. His articles, "Poison from the Sky: the 'Chemtrails' Crisis" and "Probing the 'Chemtrails' Conundrum", were published in NEXUS 6/03 and 7/02 respectively. He can be contacted by email at willthomas [at], or via his Lifeboat News website,

by Ham. Res.
Sunday Feb 24th, 2002 9:57 PM
More pics added as comments here:
by mike aka: Bork, the Happy Space Alien
Monday Feb 25th, 2002 10:24 AM
Sounds like a really big conspiracy.

Sometimes, at night, when there are no lights, and I've taken all my medication, I think I can see spots among the stars. Then I realize it's just smudges of dirt on the plastic bubble I wear.

Ever since my spaceship crashed here on Earth after veering off course, I've been surrounded by mysterious-looking men in uniforms who smoke cigars and wink at me. These guys have a great sense of humor. I love it when they spray Cool Whip all over the sky from those big aerosol jets in New Mexico and then tell people it's "chemtrails" or something.

I think I'll stick around a while....
by brigg
Monday Feb 25th, 2002 10:40 AM
I once had a ex-military officer tell me the chemtrials I saw was the military spraying 'Apathy Gas' in order to control the masses, to which my reply was "Yeah, but who cares."
by Panizzi
Tuesday Feb 26th, 2002 1:13 PM
Reading some of the chemtrails-buff sites I've gotten the distinct impression that the criterion for distinguishing a "chemtrail" from a "normal" contrail is that the former persists and spreads into a cirrus cloud-like formation while the latter dissipates quickly.

Now, what I wonder about is that the first time I ever observed the former phenomenon was in the autumn of 1968.

So, if we accept the chemtrails-buff definitions, then by their reasoning the gummint has been spraying us with chemicals for 34 years now.

Why so long? Isn't it working?
by anon
Tuesday Feb 26th, 2002 2:14 PM
Intrigued by this article, I started to investigate military weather modification. These guys scare me, but then again, they always do.

Here are some quotes from an Air Force document entitled (arrogantly) "Weather as a Force Multiplier: Owning the Weather in 2025":

"In 1957, the president's advisory committee on weather control explicitly recognized the military potential of weather-modification, warning in their report that it could become a more important weapon than the atom bomb. However, controversy since 1947 concerning the possible legal consequences arising from the deliberate alteration of large storm systems meant that little future experimentation could be conducted on storms which had the potential to reach land.... In 1977, the UN General Assembly adopted a resolution prohibiting the hostile use of environmental modification techniques.... While these two events have not halted the pursuit of weather-modification research, they have significantly inhibited its pace and the development of associated technoligies". (pp. 3-4)

Footnote 1 of chapter 4, page 28, describes weather modification during the Vietnam War:
"A pilot program known as Project Popeye conducted in 1966 attempted to extend the monsoon season in order to increase the amount of mud on the Ho Chi Minh trail thereby reducing enemy movements. A silver iodide nuclei agent was dispersed from WC-130, F4 and A-1E aircraft into the clouds over portions of the trail winding from North Vietname through Laos and Cambodia into South Vietnam. Positive results during this initial program led to continued operations from 1967 to 1972. While the effects of this program remain disputed, some scientists believe it resulted in a significant reduction in the enmeys ability to bring supplies into South Vietnam along the trail. E. M. Frisby, "Weather-modification in Southeast Asia, 1966-1972," The Journal of Weather-modification 14, no. 1 (Aprl 1982): 1-3."

So it *has* been going on for a long time. However, in the document they suggest that various factors will increase the acceptability of civilian, and therefore military, weather modification, so maybe that's why they seem to be stepping up their experimentation.
by Lyrics to Fernando by Abba
Tuesday Feb 26th, 2002 2:25 PM
Can you hear the drums Fernando?
I remember long ago another starry night like this
In the firelight Fernando
You were humming to yourself and softly strumming your guitar
I could hear the distant drums
And sounds of bugle calls were coming from afar

They were closer now Fernando
Every hour every minute seemed to last eternally
I was so afraid Fernando
We were young and full of life and none of us prepared to die
And I'm not ashamed to say
The roar of guns and cannons almost made me cry

There was something in the air that night
The stars were bright, Fernando
They were shining there for you and me
For liberty, Fernando
Though I never thought that we could lose
There's no regret
If I had to do the same again
I would, my friend, Fernando

Now we're old and grey Fernando
And since many years I haven't seen a rifle in your hand
Can you hear the drums Fernando?
Do you still recall the frightful night we crossed the Rio Grande?
I can see it in your eyes
How proud you were to fight for freedom in this land

There was something in the air that night
The stars were bright, Fernando
They were shining there for you and me
For liberty, Fernando
Though I never thought that we could lose
There's no regret
If I had to do the same again
I would, my friend, Fernando

There was something in the air that night
The stars were bright, Fernando
They were shining there for you and me
For liberty, Fernando
Though I never thought that we could lose
There's no regret
If I had to do the same again
I would, my friend, Fernando
Yes, if I had to do the same again
I would, my friend, Fernando
by Mark
(drlarue [at] Wednesday Feb 27th, 2002 12:40 PM
I had a long discussion over this issue last night with a friend who worked for the US Department of Defense via Northrop (among others). He insists chemtrails are a government plot to change the rate of global warming. As a skeptic, I asked him and now ask you these two burning questions; 1. Why doesn't some research group(s) pool together and take a direct sample from a new alleged chem trail so that other possible contributing factors to all the symptoms of the alleged chem trails can be eliminated. (The weak link in all of this seems to be direct proof and objectivity). 2. If the Government is doing this, and apparently has most governments on board to do this when they will barely support the US on for example a Global War on Terrorism, or go along with a secret US Government plan before, during or after the time that the Kyoto Protocols were produced and rejected by Bush - why would not the US use this as their "progaganda" to show how their advanced science and technology is solving the problem the way cloud seeding programs were touted in the '50s and 60s? All of the subjective reporting bothers me while the simple objective possibilities are ignored. I did research the NASA pages and find that there is a program called success that is flying into cirus cloud formations formed from Jet Streams (Con Trails) and trying to see how they relate to Global Weather Change theories. Your answers, comments?
by Sky rockets in flight
Wednesday Feb 27th, 2002 1:26 PM
( Starland Vocal Band )

Gonna find my baby, gonna hold her tight
Gonna grab some afternoon delight
My motto's always been 'when it's right, it's right'
Why wait until the middle of a cold dark night?
When everything's a little clearer in the light of day
And we know the night is always gonna be there any way

Thinkin' of you's workin' up my appetite
Looking forward to a little afternoon delight
Rubbin' sticks and stones together makes the sparks ingite
And the thought of lovin' you is getting so exciting
Sky rockets in flight
Afternoon delight
Afternoon delight
Afternoon delight

Started out this morning feeling so polite
I always though a fish could not be caught who wouldn't bite
But you've got some bait a waitin' and I think I might try nibbling
A little afternoon delight
Sky rockets in flight
Afternoon delight
Afternoon delight
Afternoon delight

Please be waiting for me, baby, when I come around
We could make a lot of lovin' 'for the sun goes down

Thinkin' of you's workin' up my appetite
Looking forward to a little afternoon delight
Rubbin' sticks and stones together makes the sparks ingite
And the thought of lovin' you is getting so exciting
Sky rockets in flight
Afternoon delight
Afternoon delight
Afternoon delight

Afternoon delight!
by Thomas Pynchon, on behalf of New Left Review
Wednesday Feb 27th, 2002 1:34 PM
A screaming comes across the sky. It has happened before, but there is nothing to compare it to now.

It is too late. The Evacuation still proceeds, but it's all theatre. There are no lights inside the cars. No light anywhere. Above him lift girders old as an iron queen, and glass somewhere far above that would let the light of day through. But it's night. He's afraid of the way the glass will fall--soon--it will be a spectacle: the fall of a crystal palace. But coming down in total blackout, without one glint of light, only great invisible crashing.

Inside the carriage, which is built on several levels, he sits in velveteen darkness, with nothing to smoke, feeling metal nearer and farther rub and connect, steam escaping in puffs, a vibration in the carriage's frame, a poising, an uneasiness, all the others pressed in around, feeble ones, second sheep, all out of luck and time: drunks, old veterans still in shock from ordnance 20 years obsolete, hustlers in city clothes, derelicts, exhausted women with more children than it seems could belong to anyone, stacked about among the rest of the things to be carried out to salvation. Only the nearer faces are visible at all, and at that only as half-silvered images in a view finder, green-stained VIP faces remembered behind bulletproof windows speeding through the city....

They have begun to move. They pass in line, out of the main station, out of downtown, and begin pushing into older and more desolate parts of the city. Is this the way out? Faces turn to the windows, but no one dares ask, not out loud. Rain comes down. No, this is not a disentanglement from, but a progressive knotting into--they go in under archways, secret entrances of rotted concrete that only looked like loops of an underpass . . . certain trestles of blackened wood have moved slowly by overhead, and the smells begun of coal from days far to the past, smells of naphtha winters, of Sundays when no trafflc came through, of the coral-like and mysteriously vital growth, around the blind curves and out the lonely spurs, a sour smell of rolling-stock absence, of maturing rust, developing through those emptying days brilliant and deep, especially at dawn, with blue shadows to seal its passage, to try to bring events to Absolute Zero . . . and it is poorer the deeper they go . . . ruinous secret cities of poor, places whose names he has never heard . . . the walls break down, the roofs get fewer and so do the chances for light. The road, which ought to be opening out into a broader highway, instead has been getting narrower, more broken, cornering tighter and tighter until all at once, much too soon, they are under the final arch brakes grab and spring terribly. It is a judgment from which there is no appeal.

The caravan has halted. It is the end of the line. All the evacuees are ordered out. They move slowly, but without resistance. Those marshaling them wear cockades the color of lead, and do not speak. It is some vast, very old and dark hotel, an iron extension of the track and switchery by which they have come here.... Globular lights, painted a dark green, hang from under the fancy iron eaves, unlit for centuries . . . the crowd moves without murmurs or coughing down corridors straight and functional as warehouse aisles . . . velvet black surfaces contain the movement: the smell is of old wood, of remote wings empty all this time just reopened to accommodate the rush of souls, of cold plaster where all the rats have died, only their ghosts, still as cave-painting, fixed stubborn and luminous in the walls . . . the evacuees are taken in lots, by elevator-a moving wood scaffold open on all sides, hoisted by old tarry ropes and cast-iron pulleys whose spokes are shaped like Ss. At each brown floor, passengers move on and off . . . thousands of these hushed rooms without light....

Some wait alone, some share their invisible rooms with others. Invisible, yes, what do the furnishings matter, at this stage of things? Underfoot crunches the oldest of city dirt, last crystallizations of all the city had denied, threatened, lied to its children. Each has been hearing a voice, one he thought was talking only to him, say, "You didn't really believe you'd be saved. Come, we all know who we are by now. No one was ever going to take the trouble to save ~ou, old fellow...."

There is no way out. Lie and wait, lie still and be quiet. Screaming holds across the sky. When it comes, will it come in darkness, or will it bring its own light? Will the light come before or after?

But it is already light. How long has it been light? All this while, light has come percolating in, along with the cold morning air flowing now across his nipples: it has begun to reveal an assortment of drunken wastrels, some in uniform and some not, clutching empty or near-empty bottles, here draped over a chair, there huddled into a cold fireplace, or sprawled on various divans, un-Hoovered rugs and chaise longues down the different levels of the enormous room, snoring and wheezing at many rhythms, in self-renewing chorus, as London light, winter and elastic light, grows between the faces of the mullioned windows, grows among the strata of last night's smoke still hung, fading, from the waxed beams of the ceiling. All these horizontal here, these comrades in arms, look just as rosy as a bunch of Dutch peasants dreaming of their certain resurrection in the next few minutes.

His name is Capt. Geoffrey ("Pirate") Prentice. He is wrapped in a thick blanket, a tartan of orange, rust, and scarlet. His skull feels made of metal.

Just above him, twelve feet overhead, Teddy Bloat is about to fall out of the minstrels' gallery, having chosen to collapse just at the spot where somebody in a grandiose fit, weeks before, had kicked out two of the ebony balusters. Now, in his stupor, Bloat has been inching through the opening, head, arms, and torso, until all that's keeping him up there is an empty champagne split in his hip pocket, that's got hooked somehow--

By now Pirate has managed to sit up on his narrow bachelor bed, and blink about. How awful. How bloody awful . . . above him, he hears cloth rip. The Special Operations Executive has trained him to fast responses. He leaps off of the cot and kicks it rolling on its casters in Bloat's direction. Bloat, plummeting, hits square amidships with a great strum of bedsprings. One of the legs collapses. "Good morning," notes Pirate. Bloat smiles briefly and goes back to sleep, snuggling well into Pirate's blanket.

Bloat is one of the co-tenants of the place, a maisonette erected last century, not far from the Chelsea Embankment, by Corydon Throsp, an acquaintance of the Rossettis' who wore hair smocks and liked to cultivate pharmaceutical plants up on the roof (a tradition young Osbie Feel has lately revived), a few of them hardy enough to survive fogs and frosts, but most returning, as fragments of peculiar alkaloids, to rooftop earth, along with manure from a trio of prize Wessex Saddleback sows quartered there by Throsp's successor, and dead leaves off many decorative trees transplanted to the roof by later tenants, and the odd unstomachable meal thrown or vomited there by this or that sensitive epicurean-all got scumbled together, eventually, by the knives of the seasons, to an impasto, feet thick, of unbelievable black topsoil in which anything could grow, not the least being bananas. Pirate, driven to despair by the wartime banana shortage, decided to build a glass hothouse on the roof, and persuade a friend who flew the Rio-to-Ascension-to-Fort-Lamy run to pinch him a sapling banana tree or two, in exchange for a German camera, should Pirate happen across one on his next mission by parachute.

Pirate has become famous for his Banana Breakfasts. Messmates throng here from all over England, even some who are allergic or outright hostile to bananas, just to watch--for the politics of bacteria, the soil's stringing of rings and chains in nets only God can tell the meshes of, have seen the fruit thrive often to lengths of a foot and a half, yes amazing but true.

Pirate in the lavatory stands pissing, without a thought in his head. Then he threads himself into a wool robe he wears inside out so as to keep his cigarette pocket hidden, not that this works too well, and circling the warm bodies of friends makes his way to French windows slides outside into the cold, groans as it hits the fillings in his teeth climbs a spiral ladder ringing to the roof garden and stands for a bit watching the river. The sun is still below the horizon. The day feels like rain, but for now the air is uncommonly clear. The great power station, and the gasworks beyond, stand precisely: crystals grown in morning's beaker, stacks, vents, towers, plumbing, gnarled emissions of steam and smoke. . . .

"Hhahh," Pirate in a voiceless roar watching his breath slip away over the parapets, "hhaahhh!" Rooftops dance in the morning. His giant bananas cluster, radiant yellow, humid green. His companions below dream drooling of a Banana Breakfast. This well-scrubbed day ought to be no worse than any--

Will it? Far to the east, down in the pink sky, something has just sparked, very brightly. A new star, nothing less noticeable. He leans on the parapet to watch. The brilliant point has already become a short vertical white line. It must be somewhere out over the North Sea . . . at least that far ... icefields below and a cold smear of sun....

What is it? Nothing like this ever happens. But Pirate knows it, after all. He has seen it in a film, just in the last fortnight . . . it's a vapor trail. Already a finger's width higher now. But not from an airplane. Airplanes are not launched vertically. This is the new, and still Most Secret, German rocket bomb.

"Incoming mail." Did he whisper that, or only think it? He tightens the ragged belt of his robe. Well, the range of these things is supposed to be over 200 miles. You can't see a vapor trail 200 miles, now, can you.

Oh. Oh, yes: around the curve of the Earth, farther east, the sun over there, just risen over in Holland, is striking the rocket's exhaust, drops and crystals, making them blaze clear across the sea....

The white line, abruptly, has stopped its climb. That would be fuel cutoff, end of burning, what's their word . . . Brennschluss. We don't have one. Or else it's classified. The bottom of the line, the original star has already begun to vanish in red daybreak. But the rocket will be here before Pirate sees the sun rise.

The trail, smudged, slightly torn in two or three directions, hangs in the sky. Already the rocket, gone pure ballistic, has risen higher. But invisible now.

Oughtn't he to be doing something . . . get on to the operations room at Stanmore, they must have it on the Channel radars-no: no tlme, really. Less than five minutes Hague to here (the time it takes to walk down to the teashop on the corner . . . for light from the sun to reach the planet of love . . . no time at all). Run out in the street? Warn the others?

Pick bananas. He trudges through black compost in to the hothouse. He feels he's about to shit. The missile, sixty miles high, must be coming up on the peak of its trajectory by now . . . beginning its fall . . . now. . . .

Trusswork is pierced by daylight, milky panes beam beneficently down. How could there be a winter--even this one--gray enough to age this iron that can sing in the wind, or cloud these windows that open into another season, however falsely preserved?

Pirate looks at his watch. Nothing registers. The pores of his face are prickling. Emptying his mind-a Commando trick--he steps into the wet heat of his bananery, sets about picking the ripest and the best, holding up the skirt of his robe to drop them in. Allowing himself to count only bananas, moving barelegged among the pendulous bunches, among these yellow chandeliers, this tropical twilight....

Out into the winter again. The contrail is gone entirely from the sky. Pirate's sweat lies on his skin almost as cold as ice.

He takes some time lighting a cigarette. He won't hear the thing come in. It travels faster than the speed of sound. The first news you get of it is the blast. Then, if you're still around, you hear the sound of it coming in.

What if it should hit exactly--ahh, no--for a split second you'd have to feel the very point, with the terrible mass above, strike the top of the skull....

Pirate hunches his shoulders, bearing his bananas down the corkscrew ladder.
by anon
Wednesday Feb 27th, 2002 2:03 PM
Great excerpt.

Note that the contrail is "gone entirely from the sky" within five minutes or so. As I understand it, chemtrails' defining feature is their persistence: a couple hours or more.
by bullet the blue sky
Wednesday Feb 27th, 2002 2:10 PM
In the howling wind comes a stinging rain
See it driving nails
Into the souls on the tree of pain
From the firefly, a red orange glow
See the face of fear
Running scared in the valley below

Bullet the blue sky
Bullet the blue sky
Bullet the blue
Bullet the blue

In the locust wind comes a rattle and hum
Jacob wrestled the angel
And the angel was overcome
You plant a demon seed
You raise a flower of fire
See them burning crosses
See the flames higher and higher

Bullet the blue sky
Bullet the blue sky
Bullet the blue
Bullet the blue

This guy comes up to me
His face red like a rose on a thorn bush
Like all the colors of a royal flush
And he's peeling off those dollar bills
Slapping them down
One hundred, two hundred
And I can see those fighter planes
And I can see those fighter planes
Across the mud huts where the children sleep
Through the alleys of a quiet city street
You take the staircase to the first floor
Turn the key and slowly unlock the door
As a man breathes into a saxophone
And through the walls you hear the city groan
Outside is America
Outside is America

Across the field you see the sky ripped open
See the rain through a gaping wound
Pounding on the women and children
Who run
Into the arms
Of America
by Gang of Four
Wednesday Feb 27th, 2002 2:13 PM
Time with my girl I spent it well
I had to be strong for my woman
(You must be joking, O man you must be joking)
She needed to be protected

The good life was so elusive
Handouts, they got me down
I had to regain my self-respect
So I got into camouflage

The girls they love to see you shoot

I love a man in a uniform
I love a man in a uniform
I love a man in a uniform
I love a man in a uniform

To have ambitions was my ambition
But I had nothing to show for my dreams
Time with my girl I spent it well
(You must be joking, O man you must be joking)

The good life was so elusive
Handouts, they got me down
I had to regain my confidence
So I got into camouflage

The girls they love to see you shoot

I love a man in a uniform
I love a man in a uniform
I love a man in a uniform
I love a man in a uniform

I need an order
(Shoot, shoot)
I need an order
(Shoot, shoot)
I need an order
(Shoot, shoot)
I need an order
(Shoot, shoot)

To have ambition
Was my ambition
Time with my girl I spent it well
(You must be joking, O man you must be joking)

The girls they love to see you shoot
The girls they love to see you shoot

I love a man in a uniform
I love a man in a uniform
(They love to see you shoot)
I love a man in a uniform

The girls they love to see you shoot
I love a man in a uniform
(They love to see you shoot)

The girls they love to see you shoot
I love a man in a uniform
(They love a... they love a... they love a...)
(They love to see you shoot)

The girls they love to see you shoot
(Bang bang you're dead)
I love a man in a uniform
(They love a... they love a... they love a... bang bang)
(They love to see you shoot)

The girls they love to see you shoot
I love a man in a uniform
(They love a... they love a... they love a... bang bang)
(They love to see you shoot)

The girls they love to see you shoot
(Bang bang you're dead)
I love a man in a uniform
(They love a... they love a... they love a... bang bang)
(They love to see you shoot)

The girls they love to see you shoot
(Bang bang you're dead)
(They love a... they love a... they love a...)
(I love a man in a uniform)
by Unreasonable Biodiesel woman for the earth
(lindsayhassett [at] Friday Nov 8th, 2002 9:36 PM
I'm an unreasonable biodiesel woman for the earth and am shocked at the idiocy of chemicals to replace the need to get off fossil fuels...we are fossil fools to think that this addiction like any other addiction is good for us..the cold sweats of change and throwing up of petro bile is coming soon to a nation near you.
by DL Rowett
(dlrowett @ Monday Jan 27th, 2003 10:30 PM
I am from Riverside county CA. In both Riverside and San Bernardino counties the chem trails have been very bad. Every day our skies are littered with chemtrails. I have seen chem bows almost every day and seen a honeycomb pattern of pink and green in the clouds. Before I knew about chemtrails, some days I would feel like I had the flu. It would hit me out of the blue. Now I know why. My boyfriend works at MARB, (March Air Reserve Base) and I have finally convinced him of the chem trails. It took awhile because he works for the government, but all he had to do was look up and see those trails and brown clouds and get a few headaches out of the blue, and I also showed him some internet articles. Now he is convinced. I have only seen about three planes up in the sky, never more than three. One thing I have noticed lately is that they are spraying at night. When I get up in the AM and go to work at 6:30, the horizon is lined with chem clouds. I am sharing this with people because I have not read anything on line from people in my area who talk about this. The cities involved are Moreno Valley, Redlands, Perris, Riverside, San Bernardino, Banning, Beumont, Cabazon, Palm Desert, Palm Springs, Yucaipa, Calimesa, Fontana; just get a map there are many others involved in these two counties. Yesterday (Jan. 26,2003) I was in Redlands and a very low plane was traveling right over the city, very low, and fast. It was white with no marks to identify it. Then within a few minutes there were chem trails above us. I believe this was one of the jets, but it didn't look large but traveled fast. I told my boyfriend about it and he said it was illegeal to fly that low. Anyway I just wanted to share what is going on in my neighborhood and it is really bad here. We are sprayed every day. Our skies would be nice and blue if it weren't for what they are doing.
by Rebecca
Monday Feb 3rd, 2003 6:33 PM
I am also from Riverside, Ca., and I have been seeing these trails more and more often. I don't know exactly what they are, and even though Riverside reports having the worst air quality due to pollution, my fiance and I have been coughing quite often, and I often get queezy, or sick to my stomach.
I don't feel that this is something unique to our county, or from our county. I think with all the worldly events of this current time, we must stop viewing it all from a spectator's point of view, as entertainment, and step back into the picture and see these individual events as peices of the whole puzzle.
We must look at the most powerful (money) people on our planet, the World Bank, the people our country has to borrow money from in order to go to war, The people that own the Federal Reserve, The people that are forming the New World Order. For more information, please go to, and beware of disinformation.
by Rebecca
Monday Feb 3rd, 2003 6:34 PM
I am also from Riverside, Ca., and I have been seeing these trails more and more often. I don\'t know exactly what they are, and even though Riverside reports having the worst air quality in Ca. due to pollution, my fiance and I have been coughing quite often, and I often get queezy, or sick to my stomach.
I don\'t feel that this is something unique to our county, or from our county.
I think with all the worldly events of this current time, we must stop viewing it all from a spectator\'s point of view, as entertainment, and step back into the picture and see these individual events as peices of the whole puzzle.
We must look at the most powerful (money) people on our planet, the World Bank, the people our country has to borrow money from in order to go to war, The people that own the Federal Reserve, The people that are forming the New World Order. For more information, please go to, and beware of disinformation.
by JG from Canyon Country, CA
(jme_theguy [at] Friday Feb 28th, 2003 10:35 PM
I live in Santa Clarita California and observed HEAVY trails today in my local area and also in neighboring Ventura County. Two nights ago I was listening to a 2 hour show on 64 KFI on chemtrails. KFI isn't known for being a very credible source of news in my book, but the show did get me thinking. Then this morning as I drove to work I was amazed at how many planes I observed making these trails in the much so that I took along my video camera to document some of what I saw. In one shot, There are two planes with very heavy trail along with a separate plane some distance away but at a similar altitude, with a "normal" trail that dissipated almost immediately behind the aircraft. As I search for the truth behind what this phenomena actually is, I can't help but wonder why more people aren't looking up and noticing this activity! Am I nuts? Some would probably think so. But when you see multiple layers of trails that all start and end at similar points in the sky, how do you explain that? Help!
by Judson Witham
(JurisNot [at] Friday Jun 13th, 2003 1:27 PM
Fort Leonardwood MO. is Primarily charged with BIO WAREFARE Defense. I watch their Planes Spraying almost every day. Most people think I'm NUTS but I watch them with a telesope from the top of my Ridge Behind our Farm. They are certainly spraying and the FIBERS they emit are VERY REAL. I think it's like the Milk Weed Silk we all have blown as kids. Whatever they are spraying carries better on the wind. WE need a Centralized UNITED group to EXPOSE the BIO SHEILD program. Oh Yeah BIO SHEILD is what they are doing.
by Judson Witham
(jurisnot [at] Thursday Aug 7th, 2003 7:46 AM
Exactly WHY are there Spray Tankers located on the base at Fort Leonardwood ?? WHY does the Army have so many SPRAY EQUIPTED Planes ?? DEMAND answers from your Representatives NOW.

What EXACTLY is President Bush talking about when he mentions BIO SHEILD ?? What is being SPRAYED ? Jet Engine Exhaust is Compressed Air and Spent Fuel Exhaust IT's HOT !! UNITED we must get UNITED, organize Come Together, individually we are just WACKOs and Loonies, BUT United we have CLOUT. WAKE UP Unite Unite Unite
by penny
(nativehoney69er [at] Monday Dec 1st, 2003 11:32 AM
I love......
I luv the way u look at me. early in the morning time
i luv my mom especially and my dad.
most of all i love being alive and having all the guys i loved be in my life....
by Wayne Renn
(waynerenn [at] Thursday May 15th, 2014 12:55 PM
The reason almost ALL the countries are on board with weather manipulation, is because they were "really" warding off the pole shift all the psychics warned us about many years ago. The worry was, the polar ice caps would get so big, that when the planets alined it would cause the earth to tip a quarter turn. A quarter turn would be that a storm coming in? NO that the ocean!

So that being said, they have gone on to melt much of the polar ice caps for the past 14 years. I think we REALLY HAVE been saved from a giant pole shift. During the time the shift was supposed to take place, there were earthquakes all along the east coast even as far inland as Minnesota. I live in Minnesota, and for the first time in almost 100 years, my cabin shifted so much that the door wouldn't open, and cellar door wouldn't open at all! It needed to be cut open with a round saw.

They caused global warming...Global Warming IS the cover up. Why? They don't want us to know that psychics are really real. Edgar Cayce, the psychic who predicted this also told many many cures that modern medicine will say is impossible. One thing will lead to another and the medical system will be unmasked as population control. They have a lot to lose. I've been paying attention.

I hope that answers your question. I'm not as crazy as this all sounds. I have personally cured liver damage, baldness, tonsillitis, gallbladder and more in many people using Cayce cures. waynerenn [at] if you have questions e mail me.
by musik mann
Monday Feb 20th, 2017 10:53 AM
Its all too late-the machine has taken over & NO amount of civil participation can kill the beast. Make your anti-spray device and run it in your home,go back to farming and try to keep away from largely-populated areas. THATS what they're aiming to eliminate.