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Vannevar:  Death! Aerosol, vaporous death! You have to love it.

Winsted: Death? I don’t understand … what do you mean?

Vannevar: Well … there are a lot of theories on what is contained in the mystery clouds our planes do make. Some think we are trying to control the weather, make it rain … cause droughts. Then there are those who think we are trying to alter the jet stream. [He pauses to burp] We spread this one rumor, that we were “vaccinating” the public from airborne terrorist threats. And one for the wackos – that we were putting up a shield to keep the extraterrestrials from flying in our airspace. And there are those who think we are using Dr. Edward Teller’s ideas of manipulating the Earth’s atmosphere to counteract global warming. Repair the ozone. That’s my personal favorite. Although, we are not allowed to comment on any theories … just deny it. We say they’re nuts, they’re seeing things. We call them normal condensation trails. ”It’s what all planes do,” we tell them. And they buy it. They’ll believe anything we tell them.

Winsted: So … then what is it?

Vannevar: Virus! Bacterium … like I told you … death!  It’s about population control.  I take my orders direct from the very top. Let me ask you lieutenant … do you know who that is?

Winsted: I would assume that would be the president. No?

Vannevar: [Laughs] Clueless, but that’s to be expected. I answer to Kissenger, Rockefeller … some call them The Power Elite ... the Globalists. They actually run the  world, not the president or congress. Long before Truman gave power to small groups to make the large decisions, the bankers called the shots.  The Free Masons, Illuminati, the Bildebergers, Skull and Bones … the Council On Foreign Relations …  I’m sure you have heard of One World Government … or The New World Order ... the Neo-Con agenda?

Winsted: Yes, I have. You mentioned population control.

Vannevar:  I did. That’s what it’s all about. There are too many people in this world. We have to control this out of control population explosion. We can’t provide for all these people. It just won’t work unless we do something. We have been working at this for about 40 years now. We killed over a million Africans with an AIDS tainted Smallpox vaccine in the 70’s. After we figured out how it spread, we injected the queers and drug addicts in their Hepatitis B vaccines. It was great that we were able to target specific parts of the population.

Winsted: But who profits from all this?

Vannevar: First, the pharmaceutical and medical industries.  Sickness and death is big business.  Big, big business. And the petrochemical industrial complex. Good friends.  They are our partners on Operation Cloverleaf.  Don't forget the bankers. They own the land and everything on it.  They are able to foreclose on all the unpaid debts of the sick and deceased; resell, and refinance those other projects.  Big money.  These industries feed the black projects.  It’s all one big vicious circle.  And they couldn't do it with "us."  I get paid a lot of money for having so much fun.

Winsted: So, we have been spraying germs up there? What kind of things are we talking about?

Vannevar: We have tried many things. Hundreds of different types of viruses, bacteria, plagues, flu’s… We haven’t found the magic bullet yet. We are getting better though.  We use aluminum  ... the metals released along with the diseases heat up from the sun, creating a perfect environment for the bacteria and viruses to thrive in the air supply. .The latest figures indicate we are getting to the elderly with respiratory problems and weakening immune systems. They’re starting to drop now. We know we need to up the dosage. Make it quicker. Can’t afford to tie up the hospitals and drag things out.

Winsted: But Sir … my Mother and my Grandmother live in Boca Raton!

Vannevar: You have some good insurance on Granny? Just kidding. Just tell them to stay in the house during the day.

Winsted:  My Mother plays golf. She does a lot of gardening. She’s a very outdoor person.

Vannevar: You know what days we’re up there spraying. You can tell them when it’s safe to go out … just don’t tell them why or about anything you just learned. Here, you might need another drink. [He passes the bottle]

Winsted: Another thing I’ve always wondered about is why no one notices the trails or questions what we are doing? The other day, in the peak of the PM rush hour we made so many passes that afternoon that the skies were covered with our man made clouds, haze … I can’t believe no one sees them and reports them to the media.

Vannevar: That’s because the people are stupid, And they’re gullible. The major media, for the most part, is controlled by the CFR. They don't cover any stories or subjects that we tell them are off limits.  Most editors and publishers of the South Florida papers are out of it. They wouldn’t know a news story if it came up and bit them in the ass. They’re cooped up in their office all day and never see the sky.  Some of the underground papers might pick up on it someday. But who cares about them; most people just pick them up for the ads. No one believes any of their stories anyway.  And most people are already numb ... dumbed down by chemical antidepressants added to the aerosols and to their water supplies, mind controlled to believe whatever the NASA debunkers feed them .... they are suspended in disbelief. They could never believe that their government could do something so cruel ... so sinister.

Winsted: I would think someday it would come out; someone will question it.

Vannevar: Then we just do what we always do … lie and deny. Our entire government is one big cover-up. It’s like Nicholson said in the movie A Few Good Men, “… you can’t handle the truth!”  So, we just debunk it. Earlier in my career, my primary MOS was in disinformation. I was a top debunker. We could make them believe or disbelieve anything. From UFOs to viruses. Sometimes these people were right on, had it all figured out. Yet, we could turn it all around and the people would believe us. That’s how I made rank and eventually got this assignment. Yep … people are stupider than shit and we are very good at what we do. Would your government ever lie to you? [Laughs, coughs … his ass rises off the chair a little, then back down]

Winsted:  Major … before you mentioned aliens … you said “the alien complex …”

Vannevar: I never mentioned aliens and if I did, your clearance isn’t high enough to know anything about things like that. But just ask yourself what are all these huge industrial type complexes springing up all over the place. And why they are so guarded. Why no one you would know works above the first floor. [He looks around the room, head spinning] I didn’t say that! Winsted …what the hell did you eat?

Winsted:  Eat? That wasn’t me … must be the booze. I have to get going, it’s nearly 5. You need a ride?

Vannevar:  No, I have to finish reading this report, enter my notes. I’ll be calling my driver. [Winsted gets up, heads for the door] Oh, and Winsted, I don’t think I need to remind you, that what we talked about … could get you eliminated if it got out.

Winsted: Not to worry Sir, I would never say anything to anyone. [He opens the door and leaves. Outside in the hall, he takes a small recorder from his pocket and pushes the stop button.]

            A week later, Lt. Ralph Winsted’s Grandmother suddenly passed away from a rare form of pneumonia. It came on her very suddenly. Winsted was devastated. Three weeks later, his Mother took ill and suffered a slow painful death. It was a disease similar to Ebola. He was by her side nearly every minute until the CDC placed her in a special room where doctors had to wear special protective suits to go in and administer her food and medicines. Her agony lasted three weeks. When she died she was immediately cremated. Her death certificate listed the cause of death as influenza. The military told him not to discuss or question his Mother’s death with anyone. He was confused. He went into a deep depression and could no longer work on the black project. He had to be reassigned to a desk job in a crowded office. He always felt people were watching him and that they were trying to get him to speak about things he couldn’t talk about. When he was not at the base he moped around. He kept to himself. He became prone to thinking he was being followed by men in black suits. He grew more paranoid by the day. He took on fits of anger, sometimes screaming outrageous things to his workmates. He was released from the military on a medical discharge and was sent home.

            Weeks later, still depressed about his Mother and Grandmother, he began watching the skies. As he suspected, the chemtrails project continued. He tried not to stay outdoors during the blitzing. He began to make secret calls to the three major South Florida newspapers each day there were chemtrails. He would tell them, “Look up in the sky. Get a photographer and your best reporter out there now!” He subscribed to all 3 papers and read them cover-to-cover each day and after weeks of calling and reading the papers … nothing. Not a word about the chemtrails. He kept calling the papers until finally, he was able to get an answer from the top people on all three papers. They all said the same thing; that they had checked things out with the Air Force and that these were just normal condensation trails and were not harmful. All three papers told him to leave their staff alone and to stop calling. He felt like screaming! He felt like telling the whole story … everything he knew. But he feared that no one would listen and that no one would ever believe him.

            But then, an idea came upon him.  He thought of someone in the area that would believe him. Now, each time there were chemtrails he would get into his car and drive to the Delray Beach – Boca Raton line where he drove up and down the streets like a madman until one day he found what he was looking for. Or I should say who he was looking for. It was the guy with the camera and he was (again) out in his parking lot taking pictures of the chemtrails. Winsted didn’t know what to say. He was all smiles. For the first time in months he lit up like a Christmas tree. His hand out-stretched to the stranger he said, “I see them, too!”  To Winsted, in his delicate mental state, it was like he was having a close encounter or something like it. Winsted, as happy as he was, had a hard time speaking at first. He let the stranger do most of the talking and man could that guy babble. He took Winsted out back near the canal and Winsted saw it for himself.  A giant industrial complex. The one that Vannevar had (almost) spoke of.  Without saying much, he said, “It doesn’t seem like there is anything human above the first floor.”  He told him how the massive building had sprung up in what seemed like a few weeks and was occupied, or so it seems, in only days. He pointed down to the right at an even larger building and said, “Same thing, times two.”  Winsted seemed to relate to the stranger as if he almost knew everything he was going to say. As they stood near the canal and looked at the massive buildings on the other side, a jeep pulled up from around the perimeter. Exiting the jeep were two uniformed military men, armed and looking mighty concerned. One on each side of the jeep they just stared at Winsted and the stranger.  “They have been listening to us and know we’re talking about them,” said the stranger.

        The stranger waves to them, then gives them the finger - he and Winsted leave the canal area. The stranger told him how, one day, he saw a perfect circle scorched into the earth where a small alien craft  may  have fell short of it’s landing at “the complex” as he called it, instead, landing on his side of the canal. He told Winsted about how he tried to tell some people about the complex, but by the time it all came out, they had twisted it all up to infer that he said  “aliens were living in Home Depot … they are a pathetic bunch … no hope for them.”   He also told Winsted, “We can’t see them unless they want to be seen.  But the dogs can see them. The aliens  hate dogs, which could be why our faithful companion suddenly became ill and died.”

            Winsted couldn’t tie the aliens in with the chemtrails. The stranger insisted that they weren’t related, only similar that they were both government cover-ups. Winsted met several times with the stranger. They got along well. Two people with far out views on things most people don’t or can’t understand.  But Winsted still felt his paranoia increasing. He insisted that he was not only being followed, but that he had several near death experiences. Several near accidents, car crashes … he was even poisoned once (but survived).  He felt his time was nearing an end, as the “men in black” as he called them, seemed to become more obvious, no longer hiding in the shadows. One day, after a high-speed chase in which Winsted was able to lose his pursuers, he drove to meet the stranger. It was said, that he gave him the tape recording he had made of his conversation with Major Vannevar. Or that he gave him a copy of the tape. No one knows for sure. What is known is that was the last day anyone ever saw Ralph Winsted.  It’s said that he “knew too much about chemtrails.”   The CIA had figured out that Vannevar was responsible for the breech in intelligence and he was reassigned to the Middle East. It was rumored he never left the chemtrails project, just placed where he could “do the most good.”  The chemtrails over Boca Raton continue on a near daily basis. Weekends and holidays, days where people spend more time outdoors, are favored for heavy concentrations of vapors. They start out as lingering "lines" in the sky, which spread out, depending on upper level winds, then form long, strange looking “clouds.”  These clouds dissipate into a hazy mist and soon fall to the ground. Then, whatever it is they are dropping gets on you, in you … and the beat goes on.  [the end]

   was  written by  Rob Cerreta                        <To Chemtrail Links Page>           

(below: 1/12/04, single expanding trail blasted over Boca Raton ... breathe deeply)