E--
I love your spirit, I enjoy your posts, and I don't wish to argue with you, especially about something I cannot prove. But just consider....

In the American Southwest a few years ago, CTs were associated with a mysterious disease that killed Native Americans. That may or may not have been what was called Operation Rain Dance.

(Nice PR. And how it reveals what they'll never understand.)

Snippets and paragraphs have come in since then alleging CTs are biochem agents aimed at culling the population (The Great Dying), or are anti-biochem agents aimed to counter a biochem attack from the 3rd World (why on earth would they want to hurt us?), or are means of introducing into our bodies substances that enable them to track us, or that they are used to salt gold and platinum particles into the atmosphere that moderate extremes of weather. This last may relate to the suspected polar shift. Evidence of the polar shift may be found in the rather sudden willingness of editors to run serious stories about global warming. They may be true, but the'll also confuse you if you're having an unusually cool summer, or distract you from the real cause if it's unseasonably warm where you are.

Sleight of hand: now you'r warm, now you're cold. Prove something.

Contrasting what has been posted here re a win for Faction Two or a win for Factions Two and three, against what our common sense tells us to make of current events, it seems obvious that the War is far from over. A CT operation in your area may be a remnant of a Faction One op, or it may be an F3 op to keep you and your neighbors from migrating south in response to a polar shift that's moving your zip code toward the North Pole, or it may be a Faction Two op to ward off bioterrorist attacks.

Our Sun is in turmoil, our Earth is in flux. Isn't it curious that our geopolitical systems, our economies, our monetary systems, the global power structure, and the balance of global military power are also in flux?

There couldn't possibly be a connection, do you think?

Dazed by long thin clouds and wobbled by Chandler, I'm trying to find something solid to hold onto. And I know it ain't Jesus. Maybe it's My Self.

Oliver