Unchanged Melody

Happy new year to all and sundry!  I made a stern resolution before midnight but have broken it already: luckily I’d resolved to do absolutely nothing of any use today.

Unnerved by the town’s lack of wailing sirens my daughter and I decided to pierce the eerie silence by fetching the first coffee of the year.  In my case the first in four months – I mustn’t get addicted.

Dudley Moore, the Keith Moon of TV and film, was once asked how it felt to pass the age of 40 and he replied it was like being unchained from a lunatic.  Judging from the audience’s laughter this is the experience of a good many people.

But espresso has precisely the reverse effect, and the molecular explanation is this: scientists discovered as long ag as 1932 that its ether-soluble phytosterols release two extraordinary things under oxidation.  One is an endless stream of exciting ideas and the other is enthusiasm enough to put them into motion regardless of their chances of success, before the beans’ magic wears off.  Later, as in Hollywood tales where some mischief maker occupies another’s body, the feeling dawns that you repossessed your flesh only to spend your energy picking up the pieces.

coffee world

From high above caffeine, the world seems united, devoid of political borders

This time, that usurper didn’t buy the Brooklyn Bridge or bet everything on 18 black but he did greedily order a long list of custom-made casein and pigment combinations from California for an upcoming school mural when the ones I had would have easily sufficed.

So it’s 2016 and already nothing has changed – and yet maybe everything has!  Happy New Year!

pigment sources sienna and ochre

Pigments from those geniuses at www.sinopia.com

 

 

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2015 in review

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2015 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

The concert hall at the Sydney Opera House holds 2,700 people. This blog was viewed about 51,000 times in 2015. If it were a concert at Sydney Opera House, it would take about 19 sold-out performances for that many people to see it.

Click here to see the complete report.

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The Secrets of Lascaux

When four French schoolbys stumbled over the Paleolithic cave paintings of Lascaux in 1940, they brought to light one of mankind’s oldest and best kept art treasures.  One youngster was so enthralled, and so impressed by their significance that he became guide and guardian of the cave until his death in 1989.

The paintings have been dated to between 15,000 – 25,000 years BC, and were done at a time when the primary colours of red and yellow were visible to the human eye.  Yes, for a time, certainly as far back as 100,000 years BC, man perceived only one primary colour – red – and it was only much later that yellow pigments became noticed and used in art.  Green pigments, too, would have been in plentiful supply, and were every bit as long lasting as the reds and yellows, but did not appear until much later in our history.

Language also mirrors the evolution of man’s highly developed colour sense: the colour blue – while perceived and used in art by the Egyptians by around 3000 BC – did not appear in Greek and other Western civilisations until later, showing that evolution can vary between societies.

In the Vedas, the Bhagavad Gita and the Zend Avesta the word blue is never mentioned once, while red and gold crop up frequently.  In the original Bible, the sky and heaven are mentioned more than 430 times, but no mention is ever made of its most striking and obvious feature – its brilliant colour. Homer’s Iliad and Odyssey were composed in a part of the world where the sky is bluest of all, and so striking that even modern tourists often stand transfixed on the airport tarmac, hardly able to take in its depth and brilliance – but in all those hundreds of pages its stunning colour is never mentioned once, by the most poetic man of their time!

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Many scholars still puzzle over this as they are unable to appreciate that evolution cannot happen all at once; a recent BBC show suggested blue was never named by earlier societies because it was out of reach. And yet the obvious implications of Democritus’ reference to the “tri coloured rainbow” (red, yellow and orange) or Homer’s “wine dark sea” are never explained.

Remember people from earlier eras, even if limited by tools and perception, were as inventive and observant as we are today: consider these beautifully observed caricatures from France’s La Marche caves, dated at around 14,000 years ago: bandanas, hats, and an amusing view of an older man are recorded with considerable skill:

cartoon-youngster-hat-1 cartoon-solshenitsin-4 cartoon-2-young-men-bandana-3

The dilemma of the modern scientist is that they simply try to fit ancient eyes into a modern perspective: the sun, moon, stars and even the wind were also out of reach, yet there are names for these in all languages going back as far as research allows. We give names to what is important to us – and the stunning blue of the sky would be all around humanity from birth to death since the dawn of time. The only possible answer is that they named the sky but never the blue of it because to them it was simply a shade of gray, perhaps with a faint hint of red where it turns to purple overhead, being thinnest to our eyes and interfering least between us and the endless expanse of space.

Far from being overlooked, blue later became a highly important colour during the Italian Renaissance: the manufacture of ultramarine, named literally as “beyond the sea” – from Afghanistan – out of lapis lazuli (or “sky stone”) was such an expensive process that it was paid for by the client rather than the artist, and reserved for sacred elements of a picture such as Mary’s clothing.

The history of language explains further: all the words for blue emerged from earlier words for black:

For example, the English “blue” and German “blau” descend from a word that meant black. The Chinese “Hi-u-an”, which now means sky-blue, used to mean black. The word “nil”, which in Persian and Arabic now means blue, is derived from the name Nile, or black river, of which the same word in Latin, Niger, is also a form. (Max Mueller)

As further evidence of continuing evolution, consider that about 1% of people today, mainly women as it happens, are not trichromats – seeing three primary colours – but tetrachromats.  This means the chemistry and electrical signalling systems of the retinal cells (so complex is the elctro-chemistry behind this stuff that it took chemists decades to decipher the mechanism of our retina’s existing opsin molecules) as also the processing and perceptual areas of the brain have all evolved in tandem – a staggering achievement considering the interrelated complexity and differentiated construction of all these systems, and that it has to be done imperceptibly while the systems are in use.

What are these colours?  We can’t tell what they are, or even be told, because we have no words to describe them.  But they would no doubt extend beyond blue and violet into formerly invisible wavelengths, and will become the common property of the future man just as we hold trichromatic vision to be an ordinary occurrence today, though as in all relatively recent evolutionary developments, there are some who lag behind and do not see the full spectrum as we do.

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More well observed caricatures from La Marche circa 14,000 BC

But anyway, about Lascaux. Much mystery has been made about the puzzling symbols which accompany these fabulous – and very large – paintings, for which templates and scaffoldings were required, and stone and bone lamps too.  But remember that these painters were, to a large extent, us.  They had a similar sense of humour – as their cartoons indicate.  They had ingenuity and pride.  So here’s the explanation of these puzzling marks, which sometimes repeat themselves and each which clearly cannot be fashioned by adjustments into any other such mark:

lascaux signed by MM

A combined M and W identify an early Monet

They are the signatures of the artists.  Who would spend weeks or months on a beautiful work of art, risking their neck with unreliable lights high above the ground, then let someone else collect the credit?  Of course, they are the signs of the individual artists.  In an example below, the ochre is marked as the work of “M” while the specialist black airbrushing, done via a hollow bone, is signed with a stylised “T” or “H”.

Lascaux_1

As far as I know, this is the earliest use of a symbolic alphabet and means we might owe the development of written symbols to artists first and foremost. Remember that mental evolution was remarkably slow until recent times: for example I understand that traders used a numeric code by 9,000 BC but the idea of using those numbers alongside images of containers to represent sheep or bags of corn did not appear until 3,000 BC.  That’s very very slow.

But this character-based identification is quite common in that society: for example, what good would it be to participate in a hunt in which a dozen or more men armed with bows and arrows could all claim to have shot the crucial arrow or spear?  Obviously tips were marked so the warrior could be identified and given credit:

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And tools were marked the same way.  Here we see a bone lamp marked as in a library card, allowing for multiple owners but ensuring the identity of the current owner was not in any doubt:

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The letters and signatures may seem crude to us, but they are bursting with pride and ingenuity.  So important was creating art and the identification of artwork to a particular artist that these urges provided the spark for a gigantic leap into the symbolic representation of the human identity.  It’s a tradition that has lasted throughout the centuries to this very day.  Hats off to these brilliant souls!

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Many other such marks can be seen, but pointing them out ad infinitum would be to belabour the point

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The colossal scale of Lascaux is hard to understand until we realise some of the animals are eighteen feet across.  Holes for scaffolding were made: this was no random, time wasting exercise but a highly organised event from men who clearly understood the significance of time and the need for planning

One final observation: is it possible crafty old Michelangelo – always fearing the “second death” – the fading from memory of an artist’s works long after his body had pased into oblivion from the “first death” – managed to work a massive, repeating “M” into his Sistine Ceiling?

Knowing artists.. I wouldn’t put it past him!

CAPPELLA_SISTINA_Ceiling

 

 

Posted in Art, Pigments, Uncategorized | Tagged , , | 6 Comments

When Your Parents are Late

It was a frantic, but happy morning – we were getting ready to take mum and dad to the airport. Mum busy tidying the house, dad his jovial self.  We were nearing the point where we were going to be late – something we all usually avoif with extreme precautions, that backlash in a comical way.  Anyway, that day was going pretty smoothly, I remember that.

I can’t recall the date, but for sure it was a Canadian Autumn.  Dad was showing me this beautifully printed Group of Seven calendar, one month to a page, trying to impress upon me a certain date.  How did he get a calendar for a future year?  He never explained.  I was more interested in the print quality, and those Autumn colours.  If only I paid more attention..

I was getting ready quick as I could but as the baby was crawling around my feet being cute, I could hardly move my legs for fear of collision – looked for my phone to film him, because my girlfriend adores babies and would’ve loved to see his antics, but couldn’t locate it – must have been in the living room with the suitcases or something.

Finally, all set to go.  20 to 11: we were 20 minutes ahead of schedule.  So there was still time, yet also a strange feeling of urgency: something was about to happen.  Uncharacteristically, I thought, they asked if I too would join them on their flight.  But something didn’t seem right, and my answer surprised even me: there’s no need – when I wake up, I’ll already be back in England..

Gradually I became aware of the rain outside, the weight of the duvet and that 1:00 a.m. silence, and a feeling of loss.  My parents had returned to the beyond, and I to my Earthly life. The good news is they seem happy – and I’m glad they stay in touch!

Lawren_Harris_Autumn_(Kemenfelt_Bay_Lake_Simcoe)_1916-1917_lightbox

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Why I Love Art

Three amazing things happened this month.  I chanced to meet a postman (actually a lady!) standing in for our usual postman – who stopped to ask if this was my house, with the fresco on the side.

We talked a while about the neighborhood and how she used to paint and live in London; she said she loved being assigned this particular route because the gigantic picture of a country village cheered her up.  She looked forward to it, enjoyed it for half her journey down the street, and pondered on it afterwards.

That was a fine day for me.  Then on the spur of the moment, I sent a fresco tile – the first I’d attempted back in 2012 – to a man in Mexico who had been very helpful to a family member.  The tile looked a little forlorn by itself so I sketched a cartoon on the back – an enthusiastic Pope about to slap “one more coat of paint!” on the Sistine Ceiling – and packaged it off to the Americas.  It also gave me a chance to try a Bedford packaging firm who promise an indestructible packing crate for anything – literally anything – and it turns out they do exactly that.  It arrived intact and turns out he was moved by this much more than I’d expected.

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So far so good.  But days later something quite extraordinary happened.  I’d been invited to a local school to see about helping create a mural there.  And when the day finally arrived and I met the art teacher, long after the school had closed, I found two of the children, aged about ten, had stayed behind to give a presentation just for me.  Now this was something!

Sure enough, they’d made a Powerpoint show entitled, incredibly, “Meeting Iain Carstairs: the chance of a lifetime”.  And this presentation, all about their school and why they wanted to create a mural, was really well put together – it had a narrative which they took turns reading out, each picture transformnig into the next: one image folded itself up into an origami swan, and flew away!  It was simply marvellous.  This was overwhelming enough but then I was asked to autograph some pictures they’d taken of the fresco, and even their pencil cases!

It’s hard to explain how moved I was by their enthusiasm and sincerity, because these days we often have to work in a vacuum.  For example, I remember giving a 1993 presentation in which one manager had gasped in astonishment and I’d been puzzled to see his enthusiasm vanish when his neighbour quietly elbowed him in the ribs.  I later found that staff had been specifically briefed in advance not to show any enthusiasm in case we charged more money for our radical new product.  This is absolutely true.

It’s natural to hope your work has some influence for the good, but you also suspect it’s a very diffused thing, almost subliminal – a drop in the bucket for those drenched by TV and big budget films vying for attention.  So to find what you did with a paintbrush on a rickety scaffold has really influenced someone can be daunting, especially when you remember any shortcuts you took.  Say, during a freezing Christmas Eve snowstorm with water running down your neck and lime water eating your skin, panicking over no time to buy gifts and cards now long forgotten, as the shops began to close and the light grew dim – now you understand those hours saved hurrying up cheated someone, somewhere, out of something.

Shipping_Logo

Inevitably, there are two morals coming our way.  One – if you believe in something, you must give it everything you’ve got, because someone, somewhere is going to appreciate it – and those people are precisely the ones you’re working for.  And the other – if the school wall I’m hoping for is made available, it must become the best thing I’ve ever done!

lascaux

To the cave painters: thanks for going to all that trouble – it was worth it!

Coming soon – in no particular order:

  • a long-standing mystery of Lascaux – solved!
  • the miracle of fasting!
  • the booklet to end all wars!
Posted in Art, Fresco, Pigments | Tagged , , | 4 Comments

A Bitter Kind of Medicine

As readers know, I was diagnosed with stage III squamous cell carcinoma, head and neck, early 2013.  It hadn’t been bothering me and from photos must have been there a decade but I wanted to know what it was.

According to the medical experts, my delaying chemo, radiation and surgery even a month would prove fatal – each of which I found, according to published research, does significant damage, with only about half the patients surviving five years, but all with permanent disability to some or all parts of their head and neck.  If you want a blow by blow account of how corporate medicine deals with cancer of the oral cavity, try this book by one with ultimate faith in it, and none at all in alternative medicine, the late lamented John Diamond:

Snake Oil

Diamond lost his voicebox and part of his tnogue to surgery; the book details his withering views on alternative medicine

People who survived chemo and radiation told me it was the most awful experience of their life.  “I lived for the last [radiation] session,” one said. “It was pure agony.  I willed myself to survive until that day came and went.”  A Nottingham seller of the Big Issue who’d had tongue cancer shared his chemo experience, urging me to accept it too.  “I won’t lie to you, mate; it’s like fire going through your veins.  I wanted to die.  But I have a kid – so you get through it – because you have to.”

Being someone who puts off tackling a splinter, I knew like 25% of such patients, I wouldn’t survive the first year.  But that turned out to be a blessing, because for the next two and a half years I travelled the Earth looking for another way, and in the process met more than a hundred wonderful souls I otherwise would never have known.  Earnest professors, bow-tied surgeons,  immunologists, ex-oncologists, no-nonsense nurses, therapists, surgeons, MDs and maverick inventors from Italy, California, Texas, Mexico, Lausanne, Germany and rural South East England.

I met a KCL lecturer, specialists at London’s homeopathic hospital, and an oncology professor who, alarmed by the Conservative Party’s treatment of the NHS, turned his hand to politics.  I was under the care of the son of immunotherapy pioneer Josef Issels, who’d stood up to Nazi Germany and was punished by a stint on the front lines followed by years in a Soviet gulag.  A doctor in his twilight years who worked at MSK, and survived pancreatic cancer who told hair-raising stories of one treatment – if you can even call it that – involving complete removal of the jaw.  I winced.  My God, how long did they survive? A sad smile. “Not long, thankfully.”  There were vivacious, warm hearted female surgeons and specialists at one of the world’s best hospitals, the Angeles in Tijuana, one showing me pictures of her hometown, which was paradise apart from the lack of jobs.  One renowned oncologist turned inventor cured a close friend of Vladimir Putin and was thus invited to sit beside the Russian President at a Moscow parade.  I conferred with alternative therapists in Germany, Switzerland, America and England, many of whom had backgrounds in oncology and surgery, some to the tune of thirty years.

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Pacific coast of Mexico

Then there were the patients – dozens from every conceivable strata of life: all friendly, eager to share their knowledge without any thought of personal gain.  A gorgeous actress from Seinfeld, now in the Californian Hills.  A wild-eyed London musician with pancreatic cancer who’d spent all his money on one last record and tour simply because he’d been told he had a year to live.  He then found alternative therapy and recovered completely.  How did he feel now, I ventured one day as he drove me to the station.  Puffing on a cigarette: “I feel f***ing broke, mate!”  I’ll never forget the large, jolly Kuwaiti who had almost undergone a very risky surgical procedure for kidney cancer.  But when he’d asked why they would attempt something so radical with such a low chance of success and the reply was “well, you’re going to die anyway,” he walked out, never to return – and walked into the alternative therapy world where I’m glad to say he was doing well last time I saw him.

Vietnam-riverside

Vietnam

That I know of, only four patients I encountered while in alternative clinics had been through chemo, radiation and surgery before our paths crossed.  All younger than me, one a little more than half my age.  A bright eyed, frightened American lady in the final stages of breast cancer, her controlling and highly disapproving family (who’d insisted she undergo chemo and surgery “to cure her” 18 months earlier) hovering nearby.  Terrified they might overhear our conversation, she slipped me her email address so I could report on my next stop in Santa Barbara.  A dear, frail Canadian soul, brain withered by chemo, with his devoted wife, searching for his last hope.  They inched their way into the clinic, sat down carefully, introduced themselves and detailed to us fellow patients, laid back with our IVs, how they’d travelled from Canada to Europe, then all throughout America, before arriving here.  There followed an awkward pause – my specialty:  “So… were you searching for cures, or fleeing the law?” Thankfully they laughed.

There was a Raytheon employee, a smiling Vietnamese man with an advanced case of my disease; so warm-hearted he refused to accept any rare off-label medication from the clinic’s MD unless I too was offered the same; at the age of nine he’d walked three months through the jungle to escape the savage American bombing.

Machu_Picchu

Machu Picchu, Colombia

A stunning Colombian woman cared for by her dutiful 16 year old son, had undergone radiation and sacrificed her layrnx to surgery but now, years later, struggled with a nine centimetre tumour in her throat which had started to break down – and therefore expand – under slow, natural therapy.  The case seemed hopeless.  After an emergency tracheotomy she was airlifted to New York where, once again, they began radiation.  After the first session she pleaded that she couldn’t face another.  I won’t ever forget her WhatsApp message:  “Iain, they say to me go home and die then, not waste their time.”

Sadly all these four seekers after health have now passed away.  The last, the man who’d insisted I share his medicine, only two weeks ago after a bruising experience of radiation in which he, too, sacrificed his voice.  I received a beautiful message from his wife, and I’m very honoured to hear he remembered me.

It might be called medicine, but some of it seems a very bitter kind.

Posted in Cancer, Cancer: A Second Opinion, Cancer: The Problem and Solution, Chemotherapy | Tagged , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

The Pen of Science: Still Mightier than the Sword

Cheney reacting to 9/11

September 11, 2001: Self-elected Vice President Dick Cheney watches nearly three thousand of his citizens meet a grisly end.  Cheney declared an investigation “wasn’t needed” and asked Senator Tom Daschle not to investigate at all.  Eventually he refused to testify unless (1) it was behind closed doors (2) no writing or recording would take place (3) he would not be under oath (4) George Bush would testify at the same time, by his side.  Clearly nothing to hide, I think we can all agree

No matter who you may be, where you may live or what you may believe, the events of 9/11 changed your life.

It was the pretext for the invasions and the bombing campaigns which plunged the entire middle east into war, creating hundreds of thousand of refugees (the UK-France channel tunnel was closed at Calais only a few days ago by a large crowd of  refugees), leaving somewhere between one and four million dead, and shattering millions of lives.

Operation Iraqi Freedom liberated Iraq's gold and oil, but little else

Operation Iraqi Freedom liberated Iraq’s gold and oil, but little else

It was the pretext for the Patriot Act and the NDAA, allowing dissenters to be arrested and imprisoned indefinitely without ever knowing the evidence which prompted their kidnapping.  It was the pretext for a chain of black prison sites in which ordinary people disappeared – many through simple cases of mistaken identity, confusion or on the hear-say whispers of undisclosed others – some never to be seen again.  Many still languish in Guantanamo Bay, without having been charged of any crime.  It was the pretext for unprecented surveillance of your phone calls and emails, a project strenuously denied and fnially sheepishly admitted by the NSA – a fine example of trustworthy governance.

In another secret campaign, strenuously denied by both Bush and Blair for years and only admitted under the weight of incontrovertible evidence years later, some of the unfortunates delivered to Guantanamo Bay were first shipped to other countries – including Egypt – for torture.  Two Iraqi civilian arrived, as an inmate later reported, “in catastrophic shape, lacking their fingernails and toenails, blood still running from their ears and nose, grown men weeping like babies”.  Others met a grisly end in Uzbekistan dungeons, from which survivors reported hearing “clipped British accents, directing each of the interrogators’ questions”.

Syrian refugees wait outside turkish border

Syrian refugees wait outside Turkish border. 9/11 was used to justify the looting of Iraq, a chaos which caused the rise of Western-backed ISIS, which was used to justify Western bombing of Syria, creating 2m refugees

Some were kidnapped from international airports on the orders of Jack Straw and Tony Blair, and shipped to Gaddafi’s dungeons. Unluckily for Straw and Blair, one such dissident later became commander of the Libyan rebels, and demanded Britain admit to what its henchmen did to his family.  These particular victims, paid off this year by well over £400,000 to avoid an embarrassing court case, included his daughter (“these people stole my childhood”) and his heavily pregnant wife – taped immobile to a stretcher, with – in an astonishing act of cruelty – one eye taped open and one taped shut, by two masked men and one masked woman, all with British accents, for an “excruciating seven hour journey” to Libya, where they were immediately chained to walls.

The head of Mi5 was to write jovially of the affair to Gaddafi, still in power at the time: “I do hope you have received the shipment” in a letter later found by rebels raiding Gaddafi’s files.  That was one very expensive letter, for you and me, that is – since all the desperate hush money thrown at victims was taxpayer money.

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During the US-led invasion of Iraq, the country was systematically looted of its gold and oil reserves. As one Iraqi refugee – now a taxi driver in Toronto – explained to me: “everything now go to America.

Perhaps, you feel that none of this affects you.  But, if you’ve flown since 2001 and were manhandled, humiliated or stripped in the name of “terror prevention”, or, like Professor Richard Dawkins, had your jar of honey confiscated after check-in, you’ve been affected by 9/11.  Speeches are still made hearkening back to 9/11, to justify more surveillance, more laws, longer prison sentences, secret tribunals, drone bombings, or the battering down of various doors in the name of “terror prevention”.

police state

The police forces in America now meet protests dressed in the same combat gear used by US invasion forces and varying only in colour; in more recent photographs, even the colour is now a uniform Marine khaki.  Likewise, armoured cars and even tanks are given to police forces to patrol even small town America

The rise of the American police state, where officers can no longer be distinguished from US military forces dressed for the desert in the middle east, the current chaos in Iraq and the subsequent rise of ISIS can be squarely blamed on the invasions justified by 9/11.

14 years later, every week without fail, newspaper headlines scream of “terror” as if they, too, were somehow keen on stoking it.  But why?  Well, a moment’s thought is enough to realise that few of us, hardly any of us, actually an infitesimal fraction of nine billion people, have actually seen an act of terror in real life.  The only place we see it is in the media.  So for terror to stop having any widespread effect, all the media would have to do is refuse to report it.  Tell us the facts if you must, in a restrained, factual way.  But they do the exact opposite.

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Forgotten? How could we? And in September 2015, lest the multi billion dollar killing machinery empire run into protests from those paying for it, Dick Cheney – along with his far-far-rightwing daughter – have threatened “bigger attacks, with worse weapons, to come”.

What they fail to tell us is even more telling: the damage from US drones hitting wedding parties, school children, farmers, families, houses, villages.  As it turns out, entire countries are raising generations of children afraid to go out.  The sound of an airplane overhead is enough to scare them witless after constant attacks by circling reaper drones.  Not because of their media, but because all gatherings of people, bystanders included, are targets for incineration.

The bodies are never identified by America: if they were standing up they’re “suspected militants“; if sitting down: “plotting terror attacks”.  Babies are “collateral damage”.  Seeing frantic friends and family wading thrugh the rubble of his devastation, Obama saw an opportunity: let’s bomb the rescuers.  Seeing the crowds at the funerals he saw another opportunity: let’s bomb their funerals, for Christ’s sake.  What did they call this brutal murder?  “Double dipping”.  Our media don’t care to report on the victims and the trauma we’ve left them.  They’re nobodies.  When they come fleeing to our shores we protest they’re “chasing our benefits”.  The New York Times wordsmiths daintily call drone bombing “a vexing constitutional issue”.  War criminals?  Tsk!  A few bad apples.  La-di-dah.

michael hastings inferno

Journalist Michael Hastings was highly critical of Obama and the Pentagon who, he said, “had declared war on the press”. The only recourse was “for the press to declare war on them”. In June he confided to friends he was onto a big story, but felt he was under surveillance. “I’m going to go off the grid for a while.” Concerned friends set up a meeting on June 20th, 2013, for him to tell them what he knew. The meeting never took place: this photograph was taken on June 18th.

We’ve heard only last week that £20 billion is needed for our terrifying nuclear killing machines ..“to prevent terror.”  I’m not kidding.  Yes, someone is getting very, very rich from the terror industry – for that is precisely what it is.  A new and booming business in which oil and gold and lithium mines are commandeered and looted, countries bombed back to the Stone Age, dissenters kidnapped and imprisoned, or incinerated by reaper drones from afar, citizens treated like dirt, and mass surveillance undertaken in secret – with the catchphrase: “if you have nothing to hide, you have nothing to fear.”

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“Some people have suggested that the weight of the tower crushing down on the girders caused them to flex and they sprung sideways by a spring action. But we are not seeing isolated jumping girders. We are seeing a major fraction of the mass of the building .. reduced to small pieces of rubble and fine dust, and being explosively ejected in all directions.” Beyond Misinformation, p 21

And this catchphrase comes, incredibly, from those who for fourteen long years have avoided and dodged any scientific investigation into the most significant crime of 9/11 itself: the destruction of the World Trade Center buildings!  What has the government got to fear? Well, read on, and you’ll find out!

Yes, if you live on Earth, 9/11 has most certainly affected you.  So it may come as a shock to hear that the most significant cause of death on 9/11, the collapse of buildings full of people, was never scientifically investigated.  The evidence was cleared away before investigators were allowed on the scene, and physically destoyed or shipped to China before it could be examined.  The causes were never explained.

The perpetrators – whoever they were – remain unnamed and unpunished, and free to strike again at a time of their choosing.

Science to the Rescue: Beyond Misinformation

bookletBut now the first scientific study of the World Trade Centre’s collapse has been published, entitled Beyond Misinformation.  And I think this single document is quite capable of causing the terror industry to collapse at the same rate of free-fall acceleration, carrying with it the crooks, profiteers and assorted psychopaths who plundered the middle east, sacrified millions of lives, caused worldwide terror and sectarian strife, and made vast fortunes at our expense.

Science reveals how those three mighty buildings fell – towers 1, 2 and 7.  The first two were seen live on TV, but the third is almost never mentioned in the media despite it having been a colossal 47 stories tall, larger in mass than any steel framed building in Britain.  A group of 2,500 architects and engineers have backed the publication of this 48-page, lavishly illustrated report which comprehensively demolishes the media’s thrice-daily repeated story of what happened on 9/11.

Molten Metal 1 Pg 31Despite what you’ve been led to believe, the astonishing conclusion of this report is that these three mighty towers were not brought down by fires, nor by the aircraft crashes these buildings were specifically designed to survive.

They were brought down by a high grade, highly specialised explosive material called nano-thermite.  To judge from the physics of the events and the ample visual evidence, charges were installed on every single floor and against every major column of these three towering structures, well before 9/11 itself.  Incredible though this may seem, this is what science says about the destruction of the three World Trade Centre buildings.

Molten Metal 3 Pg 33Tens of thousands of copies have already gone to decision makers and political figures in America, and I was fortunate last week to receive a crate full which I began to distribute to newspapers, police stations and MPs here in the UK.   Until we know who demolished the Trade Center buildings, we cannot be sure that elements within the government itself are not the very terrorists we have been told it is a criminal offence to support.

This eye-opening report is thoroughly researched, full of science, revealing photographs, witness statements and pages of references.  Its review committee includes a

  • Professor of Engineering and Physics from Maryland
  • a Professor Emeritus of Civil Engineering from Canada
  • a Professor Emeritus of Civil Engineering from America
  • the former Head of Architecture at Kingston University, London

..and other fully qualified professionals in the fields of Archiecture and Engineering.  The report dismantles the NIST report, which can then only be seen as a cover-up based on speculation, not science.  In fact NIST’s report flies in the face of known science, some statements being so blatantly wrong they could never have come from even a high school science student, and it is suprising to find NIST did not even attempt to explain the full collapse of the towers and did not even check for explosives, probably because they were told not to.  For a document which cost millions and purports to explain the murders of nearly three thousand people, this is an utter disgrace.

Just as I offered on Twitter, the first 30 people who send me their address will receive a free copy when the 3rd mailshot goes out this week.

If we really want to bring an end to the terror industry, the first thing we must do is find who rigged the buildings, and who pressed the button.  We need to know who authorised the killing of nearly three thousand of our fellow human beings in New York via the demolition of the World Trade Centre buildings.  And the sooner, the better.

Explosions Eyewitness p 442015-09-11-13_34_18-Beyond-Misinformation3-777x286Explosions Eyewitness p 45

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