multi-coil field generator detail

What you see to the left is a field generator inner core consisting of six mobius coils.  It's pretty much the same as all the other inner cores I built, only this one has 600 feet of insulated 20 gauge solid copper wire, made basically the same as the other coils I made for my other field generators.  That is, 100' of wire doubled twice and twisted counter-clockwise until the cable has a 45 degree twist, and wound around itself at three points until I have a tightly wound ring that looks like an emaciated bagel.  I stacked all six of these coils and wired them in series, creating a massive, 600 foot mobius coil that looks more like a tower than a disk.

This project is only half way finished and I would've completed it last night if I was at all satisfied with a flat top and bottom cylinder.  It's the edges on this thing that bothered me and on previous projects where I studied the before and after effects of rounding off edges and filling voids, I realized I need to adjust the design before I move on. 

As I sat at my computer and pondered this problem, I glanced to the paper plate sitting on top of my printer.  Pulling out my ruler, I measured the dish diameter and it measured 8.5 inches.  The perfect size I needed!   

Grabbing a clean paper plate and a 4" PVC coupler, I proceeded to make a torus dome for the inner core.

The coupler is held to the plate with nothing more than Vaseline and the plate got a couple squirts of WD-40 as a release agent.  Removal from the mould was too easy and I was able to use the same plate for the other side as well.

The fit is perfect and turned the inner core from a cylinder to an elongated torus.

You may be thinking, why bother?  It's going to work the same whether it's round or square, right?  Well... not really.  From past experiments I found edges and voids distort the energy flow.  The energy from these things seem to exit out an edge, and a cylinder has four edges, two on the inside and two on the outside.  By eliminating the outer edges I'm able to concentrate the energy in the open shaft where it belongs.  On a torus shape, such as this, the energy flows over the outside walls and concentrates in the center shaft, like an energy vortex.  This energy easily travels over flat surfaces and smooth bends.  An edge would divert and dissipate the energy and voids in the surface disturb the flow.  Think of running over a speed bump and immediately hitting a pothole doing 35mph.

I'll let ya know if all this was worth the effort.

  

Thumper update

After fixing the seal problem on the new thumper, I decided to run a rum wash to test the system.

I gotta tell ya, I'm rather impressed with the results.  I charged the thumper with about 2" of rum wash, in the hopes of improving the rum flavor out the pipe.  As soon as I got it up to running, with a top columb temp of 196 degrees, I had to adjust the coolant water flow to liquefy the alcohol vapor that was getting past my condenser.  Let's just say a couple good whiffs of alcohol vapor will give you an instant buzz.

After I stabilized the system to produce a distillate just under body temperature, all I had to do was replace full jars with empty ones.  I ran eight pints of quality rum with the first at 150 proof and the last at 120 proof.  Not bad, considering I started out with six gallons of rum wash.

It seems the thumper acts as a second distillation, not only purifying the distillate of unwanted sulphides and off flavors but maintaining a consistent alcohol content throughout the run while maintaining the rum flavor.  An added benefit was letting it run with no adjustments on the equipment.  The system didn't need the constant adjustments of heat and coolant flow as it did before installing the thumper.  The vapor from the thumper had a lower temp compared to the column, allowing a drastic reduction of coolant in the condenser.  The condenser water flow was a mere trickle to produce the same results I had in previous runs.  I spent two hours playing with my phone and listening to music instead of constantly adjusting controls.  If that's all this thumper did, that would be enough, but I believe I could turn this still into a continuous run unit with a few modifications to drain out some of the back-set while adding more wash.        

Now, this is just a prototype to test the system.  It's workable but far from perfect.  A major improvement would be designing a larger diameter intake to improve the flow.

I found the biggest pain in the ass in distilling is the inability to work on other projects when doing a run.  You need to remain focused and pay attention to what you're doing at all times, unlike making orgonite or building field generators.  That stuff requires walking away from the project to let the resin set, or at least, leaving the project to work on something else.
 
I have other plans in the works, like the multi-coil field generator I mentioned a few months back.  The coils are built, the moulds are acquired, and the protocol is laid out.  All I need to do is stabilize the assembly, wire them up, and pour the extra high density inner core before step three.

I'll most definitely keep ya posted on this one.

thumper test

I've been thinking about building this thumper for a few months now.  I finally decided to stop the planning and build the damn thing.

My plans were a bit more elaborate than the finished project, and it was that way of thinking that kept me in a holding pattern.  The original plans involved building a new column with a 2" to 1" reducer with a 90 degree elbow connected to a 3/4" copper pipe through the dome lid with an equally elaborate exit pipe connected to the liebig condenser.  All of these parts connected with compression fittings for easy assembly and disassembly for cleaning.

As I mentioned, all this planning only got in my way of building it.  All the measuring and constantly searching hardware stores for parts they don't carry kept this project in a perpetual state of limbo.

I decided to just build the damn thing freeform and see where it goes.  Where it ended up was a rather efficient second distillation thumper, despite a few minor flaws.

The parts list was simple... A 3 gallon stainless stock pot with a stainless salad bowl as the dome, a few feet of 1/2" copper tube, a couple compression fittings, some foam seal, and some spring paper clips to hold down the lid.  Soldering copper to stainless was the tricky part and that was easily accomplished by acquiring the proper liquid flux from Amazon, since no hardware store around here carries such a thing.  Some reinforcement to hold the dome pipes in place and it was ready to run.

The first test was distilling water to test the seals and compression fittings.  Good thing I did because the foam seal between the stock pot and dome blew out on one side.  (The last thing you need is alcohol rich vapour near a heat source.)

If this test was distilling alcohol I would check the proof, flavor and measure the consistency throughout the run, but since this was a water run I did a few tests on total dissolved solids.  The end result from the thumper showed a TDS count of 4 parts per million, or 4ppm.  The water left in the thumper showed 55ppm while the cooker registered 86ppm.  Since the water I started with had 71ppm, I can only assume the cooker and thumper vaporized only H2O, leaving a concentration of dissolved solids in the boiler and thumper, with decreasing TDS at each stage.  Going from 71ppm to 4ppm is pretty good, considering my boiler was cranked up to 220 degrees.  I believe I could have reduced that 4ppm if I reduced the heat a bit.

It seems this thumper did a good job purifying water.  What it will do to a ferment wash is something else.  My main interest is to carry over the flavors from the wash, not eliminate them entirely.  I think I can achieve this by charging the thumper with some backset from the still along with some tails from a previous run, allowing the desirable flavors to pass while maintaining a more consistent proof.

I'll let ya know after I fix that broken seal and try again.   

Top 5 Libtard Fails of 2015

another adventure rant

Many years ago, I got the idea of hiking to a piece of property I had in the next county.  I asked Freida, Linda, and Smitty if they wanted to go and they all jumped on the idea without hesitation.  They had first hand knowledge of what my adventures could morph into.  Like crashing parties of strangers dressed in hazmat suits to celebrate Three Mile Island or cramming the van with people and wine and head to the drive-in to see Pink Flamingoes for $2 a carload.  I gave them a rough plan and suggested getting together a sleeping bag and a light pack with a change of clothes and we'll meet up the next day at 9am.   I arranged to have some friends meet us at our destination in two days to party and take us back to our cars.

The plan was to hike through mountains and forests, miles from the nearest dirt road or house, so I went to the Fish and Game office and got a copy of a topography map for the area.  This was our only guide.

We all assembled the next day and only Smitty had an idea where we were going.  Freida and Linda were going along for the ride but were very much up to it.  We parked our cars in this small villiage and hiked across town to the derelict train trestle, took the washed out dirt road up the hill for about a mile, and came to the last house we'll see for the next two days.  It was an old hunting cabin that looked abandoned.  No time to explore. We have walking to do.

Smitty knew his way around the wilderness.  He was the last of a dyeing breed... a travelling salesman who peddled his wares door to door, specializing in hunting boots, fishing tackle, dry goods, prep gear, pots and pans, coffee, tobacco, and damn near anything else you could imagine.  His spare time was spent hunting, fishing, and partying with us.  He was also the only one with a compass.

Our goal was to reach the top of the ridge before dark.  We hiked single file up deer trails, keeping a steady pace and stop periodically to get our bearings and catch our breaths.  We'd pull out the topo map and compass and look around and figure where we were by looking at the terrain.  On one such stop, we were so beat we just fell back against our chosen trees and slid down on our asses.  I looked where Linda was sitting and saw a snake winding it's way toward her.  She was too tired to do anything but the snake jumped straight up and sped off in the other direction when he saw her.  "We're almost half way there", I said.  "Best we get moving.  I don't want to spend the night in this swamp."  The feeling was most definitely unanimous.

The plan was to get to the summit where the walking would be easier.  Staying at the top of this range would take us right to our destination, making the rest of the hike a nature walk in the park.  But we weren't there yet.  Smitty and I figured we had more than enough daylight to make it and we were all in good spirits.

Along the way we found a watering hole.  We identified most of the tracks and figured all the critters worked out a time schedule so they won't get in each others way.  Sorta temporary animal turf.  We could see animal tracks that stepped on the tracks of the previous set of animal tracks.  Predators and prey all used the same watering hole and scheduling kept the natural order.  Animals have rules and they play by them.

Before we reached the summit we found something very interesting.  An area about 20' by 20' covered with a thick mat of deer hair.  All the trees in the immediate area had no bark or limbs within reach.  Under the deer fur the soil was black as coal.  The area was surrounded by large boulders with a bunch of smaller rocks on one side.  Clearly, a house used to be here and by the looks of it, that black earth was generations of ash from the fireplace.  Smitty pointed out the large rocks were foundation stone and this place went back to it's natural state a long, long time ago.  The deer seem to love it.  The place was covered with hoof prints and fur but we couldn't find a trace of metal.  Consulting the map, the nearest road was five miles away.  Even at this elevation, we couldn't see a sign of humanity.  Not a building, car, or powerline in sight.  No wonder the deer claim this place as their own.  No human would walk all this way to shoot a deer and drag it miles back to the car.

We thought about spending the night there.  We knew we would wake up surrounded by deer just a nibblin the grass around our sleeping bags.  We decided we had just enough light to make it to the top so we got our shit together and moved on.

The summit was excellent.  Sparse, dwarf pines and rocks covered with a thick pad of deep green moss.  A 360 degree view with a picture perfect, clear sky with the sun just over the horizon.
 
We strolled along single file on the deer trail, talking about how beautiful this place was and then the sun set.  I mean, one second it was bright as day, the next it was pitch black, like someone turned off the lights.  We got out our flashlights, looked for a good spot, and began gathering firewood.  We built a small fire and laid on the mossy ground, relieved to just kick back and relax in such a great place.  Smitty had enough sense to bring some granola bars and jerkey.  I brought along a bottle of Windsor Canadian whisky that went surprisingly well with the granola and we shared our thoughts as we passed the bottle.  The struggle to get to where we were didn't allow us the luxury of introspection, but in this place on top of the mountain, with no where to go until daybreak, we could relax and talk about how this trip changed us all for the better.  I felt it when we found the mouth of the stream we followed.  Linda, who was always scared shitless of crawly things, like snakes, found it when she communed with the snake in the swamp.  Freida said she felt a real connection to the family who lived in the house hundreds of years ago.  I think Smitty always had it but he admitted the vibe from the absence of humans put his head in a place that he's never felt before.  We were all in synch with our surroundings, in a profound way.
  
As we laid in our sleeping bags, drifting off to the smells of fresh air and pines, Smitty gave us something to think about before nodding off.  "Don't be alarmed if you hear animals rustling around.  They're just curious."

I woke up at dawn feeling better than I could remember.  Sore as hell, but great.  Black coffee for breakfast.  We would all be happier with bacon and eggs but we were Spartans and only had a days walk to reach our destination.

A word about our provisions.  The only technology we had were a couple flashlights.  No phones, radios, GPS, or watches.  Aside from a few granola bars and some coffee, we had one tent, four sleeping bags, some construction plastic sheeting, two packs of smokes, four tabs of mescaline, a knife, water, and rope.  We were cut off from civilization completely and on our own.  From our vantage point we couldn't see a sign of human life anywhere and the nearest phone was at least five miles away.  This was an endurance adventure and we wouldn't have it any other way.

Yeah, you read that right.  We each took a tab just before starting out.  All I can say is, it made the second day's hike real interesting. ;)

We reached our final destination late in the afternoon, just before it started to rain.  We were prepared and immediately set up a shelter and got a fire going.  Nothing to do but wait for the others to arrive so we climbed into our shelters and got cozy.  Linda and Smitty had the tent while Freida and I had the clear construction shelter held together with rope and branches.  After two days in the bush the last thing we needed was to get soaking wet so we stayed dry as a bone and dozed off watching the rain run off the clear plastic in rivulets.      

The rain finally stopped, just before the others showed up.  They got the fire going, broke out the food, booze, tunes, and cannabis, and commenced to party proper with yells and screams and dancing around the fire like berserk cavemen.

This was all well and good but this night something was different.  Maybe it was the drunken arguing, or the large, uneven, smoky fire, or the loud music, or a combination of all this stuff that seemed to clash with my calm.  I was on a different frequency and saw it in the faces of the three people I was with for the last two days.  No need to talk about it.  We just knew and that was enough.

Years later...

A bunch of us were at a friends house discussing how a cell phone is now considered a human necessity.  I was the only one who didn't agree with that on the basis of individual freedom.  "What if there was an emergency and you couldn't be reached?  What if someone close to you died?  What if your car broke down?"  My answer was in the event someone died the day I left for a three day excursion in the woods, I'd still get home in time for the funeral.  As far as my car breaking down... My whole driving life is filled with cars breaking down in good weather and bad and I always got them home.  If I break down on a major highway there are hundreds of other drivers with phones who are more than eager to call 911 as they pass by.  What if I don't want to be found?  I stood up to expand my diaphragm to make myself a little clearer.

Whatever happened to that pioneering spirit?  Why do you people feel the need to spend money on a device to tether you to every human on the planet just so they can reach out and touch you whenever they want?  Why do you have this sickening need to demand help to solve your stupid, petty problems that any self-respecting human being can easily fix themselves?  Ya wanna call me?  Call my house phone.  Got an emergency you can't handle while I'm off the grid?  Pick a number on your speed dial. 

I'm on a roll now...

Why do you feel the need to wear a leash?  Dogs have more sense.  If you really need to contact me I'll give you the general area where I might be.  Come and find me or call a game warden if you don't have the stones to get off your sofa.  I can guarantee the game warden will listen to your "emergency" and hang up.  Just so ya know, I do have a cell phone.  It's in my gun cabinet next to my sks stock that I use just about as much.  And even if you did contact me, what makes you think I would dutifully high-tail it back?  You want to wear your leash and stay on the porch, that's your thing.  I'd rather run loose.  And in the off chance I manage to get myself in a jam, you'll be the last people I'd call.  You can't help yourselves, let alone help anyone else.  Face it.  When all the pioneers headed west to find a new land and fix the broken wagon wheels on their Conestoga wagons while fighting off Indians, your ancestors stayed on the east coast because moving out west was hard.  Really, really hard.  And there's no one out west to fix their problems.

I could feel everyone pulling back so I offered an olive branch.

"Can you order pizza with that thing?  I'll buy." 

     

    

I just found out an old friend of mine is dying.  He's utilizing hospice where he lives and that means he's going to die.  No ifs ands or buts, he's going to die, cease to exist, expire, kick the bucket, go where no man has gone before.

It seems all my friends are ceasing to exist and it kinda bums me out.  I mean, why am I forced to be the survivor of everyone I know?  They're dropping like flies and I swore to all of them that I'll never go to their funeral because they have to go to mine first.  It seems fate cheated me out of dying before all my friends.  Ya know, those guys you told to bring the beer and the clowns to the funeral as a last gag before you get planted?  If all my friends die before I do I'll be left with an ordinary funeral full of ordinary mourners weeping to ordinary funeral music as they take me to an ordinary plot to be buried and forgotten in an unknown cemetery plot in an equally ordinary cemetery.

I want it known, right here and now, when I die I want my body cremated and the ashes dumped in the Susquehanna river.  No burial plot for me.  I want my essence in a planetary tributary whose waters touch all shores.  My estate will be converted to beer and clams to anyone who cares to show up and join the procession to the bridge where my ashes will be cast to the winds and water.  Clowns will be employed to remind everyone that life is just a big joke and plenty of beer on tap will neutralize any anxiety.  Drink and eat your fill and remember me fondly as you dump my ashes in the river. 

But I swear, on everything holy, if I find myself buried in a grave, I'll come back to haunt every one of you mother fuckers to insanity with every fibre of my spiritual being until you pray for death.  

Any questions?

a childs happiness is priceless...

liberal lessons

A simple guide on how to be a liberal. 


Step 1. Understand that you're far more intelligent than anybody else. There is no need to back up your arguments with any facts.

Step 2. Realize that there are no consequences for any of your actions in the real world. Legalize all drugs? Sure what could go wrong.

Step 3. Use the words homophobic and bigot as much as possible. Anyone that disagrees with you on hot topic issues like abortion or same sex marriage is obviously devoid of any humanity and should be killed. (even though you're against the death penalty of course)

Step 4. Know that anything bad that happens is Bush's fault. Or has something to do with republicans.

Step 5. Euphemisms are your friend. You're not pro abortion. That sounds terrible. You're pro choice. Again you're not for gay marriage you're for equal rights.

Step 6.  Remember that Obama is undoubtedly the best leader the world has ever seen. And anyone who doesn't agree is clearly a racist.

Step 7. Call people racist as much as possible.

Step 8. Know that People who hold any religious beliefs whatsoever are obviously mentally inferior.

Step 9. Never take responsibility or admit that anything is ever your fault. You're too important to worry about something like that. Just pass if off to the next guy and let him deal with it. Besides it was probably Bush's fault anyway. (see step 4)

Step 12. Be as progressive as possible.

Step 13. Win arguments with distractions or confusion. (see step 10)

Step 14. Show how open minded you are by telling other people how dumb their ideas are. 

Step 15. Get your political opinions from famous people in Hollywood. 

Step 16. Accuse people of hate speech and then proceed to tell them how much you hate them for it. Because it's ok to tell someone that hates someone else how much you hate them for hating other people.

Step 17. Win political debates by pointing out something as irrelevant to the conversation as bad grammar or slavery. (see step 7)

By following these simple steps you'll be able to call yourself a proud liberal in no time.

gourmet hoi polloi

If I did my regular shopping at Wegmans I'd certainly have less cash but a much improved gastric lifestyle.  Meat and potatoes are fine but my palate requires a little gourmet from time to time to keep me going and Wegmans exotic cheeses, breads, meats, and produce is usually enough to keep me happy... until I found the coffee section.

What I needed was basic Eight O'clock bean coffee but what I wanted was something to compliment the piave cheese, rosemary bread, and curry cauliflower salad.  The Sumatra bean coffee got my attention but it was the Guatemalan that I wanted.  With the Sumatra in one hand and the Guatemalan in the other I found it difficult to choose.  Both cost the same, which made me wonder if all this gourmet stuff came from the same coffee barrel with different labels.  I had no choice, now.  I had to get both and do a controlled study.

For two mornings I drank the Sumatra and was very impressed.  From first black cup to the last, this stuff was great!  The only bummer was the realization my standard Eight O'clock stuff was even more mundane than last week.  I mean, I could get used to this Sumatra with no problems at all, with a price tag twice as much as my regular morning joe.

I purposely tried the Sumatra first because I assumed the Guatemalan was the superior out of the two and I didn't want to be let down by drinking the best first.

This morning I felt let down.  The Guatemalan wasn't bad but it wasn't near as exceptional as the Sumatran and only marginally better than Eight O'clock.

My point in all this isn't to rate the difference in coffees but how I allowed my assumptions to over-ride my intuition.  Most sources and people in the know claim Guatemala produces the best coffee in the world and I assumed the information was correct.  I can only assume these same sources and people in the know are also the folks who claim Australia produces wine on a par with France or Italy in an attempt to convince pseudo wine enthusiasts to buy cases of Yellow Tail for their goose and fish soirées to distinguish themselves from the domestic wine swilling hoi polloi.

I learned a few things from this experiment.

1. Guatemalan coffee is over-rated.
2. Intuition is almost always correct.
3. Listen to all, believe none, and learn the truth for yourself.
4. Intuition is a good guide but you need to make mistakes to realize it.
5. The majority is always wrong.
6. Rum makes the worst coffee taste great.  





           

makin bacon

The World Health Organization, WHO, announced the other day that processed meats like hotdogs, sausage, cheeseburgers, all that stuff in the center of the supermarkets, as well as all pork and beef are now considered cancer inducing agents and are to be avoided.

As if this isn't news.  Anyone oblivious to the fact that corn fed beef full of antibiotics and bovine growth hormones isn't considered a health food is most likely oblivious by choice.  People don't eat meat because it's healthy.  People eat meat because it's delicious.  The only reason early humans went out of their way to chase down wild, prehistoric animals that could kill them was because animals are so damn tasty. 

Women stayed home and gathered berries and roots.  Hunters went out to kill wild animals.  That's the pre-human gastronomic and social foundation humanity is based on that continues to this day. 

Since it's Wednesday, I went on a hunting expedition, braving the cold October rain, in search of mammal flesh.  My instincts guided me to a farmer's market a few mountains away, which is known to have a healthy stock of persimmons.  Armed with rain gear and cash I immediately located the only produce stand that bothered to acquire these tasty treats.  Putting on my best poker face, I began negotiations with the woman behind the stand.  "Are these things edible?", I asked.  "These are", she said.  "But you have to get the deeper orange color if you want to eat them today."  She then handed me one and said to eat it like an apple.  Of course, I probably know as much about persimmons as she did but no way will I turn down a free one.  After a bite or two I asked her to pick out some good ones, since I lack the gathering skills of my species.  I marvelled at the deft way she dug deep for the most colorful ones.  I looked around and noticed only the women picked the best produce while the men stood back and watched with snake-eyed wonder.  These men were meat hunters, not fruit pickers, and everyone knew it at an unconscious level.  I got 9 persimmons for $4.50, and worth every penny.

The hunt for meat is on, and where better than a Mennonite stand in the back of building #1.  Along the way, I was drawn to a vendor selling swards and axes.  I have no need for another katana but I couldn't take my eyes off his selection of flash light/stun guns.  He demonstrated how here it's a flash light, here it's a pulse beam, and here is 1,000,000 volts of electricity that will knock just about anyone on their ass.  As if that wasn't enough, he had another one 2 foot long you could use as a club once you electrocute your victim.  I said no thanks to that big mofo, since my tomahawk will suffice, but I got the smaller one for 15 bucks.  Next stop, the Mennonites.

The rain brought little traffic and I was a bit dismayed that I wouldn't have the opportunity to use my new stun gun on those bothersome slow-pokes who always seem to be in front of me.  Instead, I enjoyed being the only customer with the fortitude to brave the cold precipitation and feasted my eyes on the vast selection of cheeses and meats.  The munster for 2 bucks a pound would go good with the apples back home so I got a couple lbs.  But it was the smoked pork hocks that got my attention.  Holy shit!  $1.99/lb.  The three supermarkets I recently visited had them for more than twice that.  When asked I said, "Gimme a couple of those."  I wasted no time in my selection.  "This one here and that one over there.  Not that one.  The one under that.  Yeah, baby, that's the one."
 
I talked to the guys behind the counter and asked if they heard about WHO's findings that meat is bad and causes cancer.  They said they heard about it but not much more.  They then said they raise their own beef and pigs and process them the same as they did for many generations.  They use no preservatives or chemicals and they don't much care about what WHO thinks.  I asked if they think meat prices might go down or that people would stop eating bacon.  He just shook his head and said the prices might go down a bit but no one's going to stop eating pork.  That's when I told them about my bacon tort.

These guys were just guys selling meat and meat by-products to strangers but when I told them in detail how I used two lbs of bacon, stuffed with sliced potatoes and cheese and baked this creation in the oven at 350 degrees for two hours, their meat merchant, Mennonite faces morphed into big smiles holding back excess saliva.

Let's face it.  Bacon is to guys what chocolate is to girls.

Just an observation, but I tend to think WHO's findings about the dangers of pork and beef products are just one more step in the emasculation of European manhood, by trying to turn male hunters into shemale gatherers.  Besides hunting beasts, men are also hard-wired to protect women.  Turning men into girls removes Europe's last line of defence.

But... I could be wrong. 
 

             

edge removal

In a previous post I mentioned getting rid of the edge on this new field generator I built.  Apparently, the difference between saying and doing is months and I'm embarrassed to tell you it took me that long to take a sanding wheel to this thing.  I'd say it's a combination of laziness, lack of inspiration, and slugness that required a month of mental gestation just to take a cordless drill with a sandpaper cylinder to this thing for roughly 10 minutes to round the edges.  At this rate, I'm going nowhere fast.  All I can say is a Dr. Ping quote from Barberella, "Hours, days, weeks... genius is mysterious."  Yeah...right.  Go ahead and say it.  Karmasurfer, you are one lazy sumbitch.  There, ya happy?

Well, I got around to rounding off the edges today and did a simple test.  Since my amp was out of commission since September 23rd, I had to settle for a simple MP3 player connected with jumper wires to the mobius.  Considering the Peevey amp put out tons more power than my pitiful MP3 player, I wasn't expecting much.  But when I hit play and felt that energy pulse after a minute of charge-up, I got blown away.  I could feel the pulsations from the beat of the tunes in my hands, like a deaf girl would feel the waves standing in front of Eddy Van Halen's amp.  (Nothing against deaf girls but it's a fact their panties don't say the days of the week but the months of the year.  Or was that blind girls?  Handicaps can be so confusing) 

The energy signature was more sharp and pronounced through this tiny MP3 player than it was through the cranked up amp.  The only difference was rounding off the sharp edges on the field generator.  A much lower amplitude from the MP3 player that produced a more pronounced energy field only solidifies my theory that edges disrupt the way the energy travels.

This isn't the first time I improved a device by smoothing rough edges.  Time after time I pulled flawed pieces out of the mold and tested them.  Clean up the edges, use auto body putty on the voids, and re-test to find significantly greater energy output.  Can't argue with the same results in repeated experiments.

Now I can move on to my next project.  Multiple core field generator.

I'll keep ya posted.    

 

just cause it's october

strange quantum things are afoot

I find it interesting how the vast majority of people remember the Berinstein Bears and not the Berinstain Bears.  I was never a fan but I remember the name with a stein and not a stain.  That puts me in the majority, from my bullshit research of asking everybody I see about the proper spelling.

Most just give me a shoulder shrug with a so what attitude but I can't help thinking there's more to this than a general lapse in memory.

It seems there are two camps.  One, who remember absolutely the bears with a stein and those with a stain.  And two, those who are most adamant that stain was always the proper spelling.  The stain to stein camp is roughly 20 to 80, from the information I gathered.  Way more than a simple faulty childhood memory.

There are other memory faults such as the color of Bill Murray's hair on the "Lost In Translation" dvd cover or the date and circumstances of Nelson Mandala’s death.  History has been changed for some of us and I think it's tied to my previous, possible quantum jump. 

I tend to think this sort of thing happens more often than we realize, and once again, I think I have a workable theory.

Due to the rather large number of people who firmly believe the Berinstein Bears were spelled as stein, as opposed to stain that cover every Berinstein Book ever printed, I wonder if these stein people are not of this world but body switched from a parallel reality, en mass, due to a catastrophic event in another reality.  By nature, different parallel realities have slightly different histories and lasting childhood memories might survive the transition.

This "memory fault" has been studied for a few decades.  People from all walks of life were asked to write down on paper where they were at various notable points in history, such as John Lennon’s death or the Challenger space shuttle disaster.  Points in history where the time and place and what they were doing is hard wired to our brain circuitry.  A decade or two later, the same people were asked the same questions and many remembered completely different circumstances.  When shown what they wrote the first time they were asked, these people all said the same thing.  "That's my handwriting but that's not what I said."

To quote Theodore Ted Logan, "Strange things are afoot at the Circle K."     



Thanks Rainbird for the tangent navigation.

just another reality

Here it is.  September 23, 2015 and no sign of a planetary extinction.  I got my lawn chair, my rum, my sunny day, and my mountaintop facing south east and no sign of flying missiles or cosmic debris of any kind.  I feel cheated, not because I'm eager to experience an abrupt end of all life on Earth as much as witnessing a long overdue karmic bitch slap, or at the very least, a cosmic light show.

But, I have a theory.

Yesterday, as I was riding around taking care of business, I saw a gas station with a large sign saying they had cigarettes at the lowest legal prices.  Seeing that sign triggered something and gave me the distinct feeling something wasn't quite right, as if smoking tobacco of any kind was just a totally bizarre concept.  Just as strange was selling gasoline to power these things with wheels everyone was using to move around.  I wasn't losing touch with reality and my memory was intact, but this feeling felt more like a fragment of a fading memory, like a dream that dissolves into forgetfulness as you wake up.  As I drove past buildings, advertisement signs, and other constructs of society I held on to the feeling that there was a general oddness to it all and I felt out of place.  Only the passing wooded areas and blue, chemtrail free sky seemed normal and gave me an overwhelming sense of comfort just looking at them.  The out of place feelings passed but not the memory of the experience and it got me thinking about a few things.

The other worlds theory of quantum mechanics is a very real thing, although damn near impossible to prove.  Right now, in Switzerland, CERN is working on a controlled experiment to open a doorway to a parallel reality using the large hadron collider, or LHC.

These parallel realities exist in the same time and space as this reality with very slight or major differences.  For example, quantum theory suggests at the moment of our death, or for reasons unknown, we body switch with another edition of ourselves in another reality to continue our life path without interruption.  The body switch is imperceptible due to taking over the memories of the new body as well as the familiarity of the parallel reality you switched to.  The assimilation to the new reality is instantaneous and complete.  Life continues as if nothing ever happened but sometimes a bit of memory tags along, like a trail of bread crumbs or the feeling that tobacco use is an alien concept.  To further complicate things, these parallel realities aren't locked into the present reality time but could be a past or future reality.

Body switching and exploration of parallel realities isn't a new concept.  Early baptisms were essentially waterboarding, stimulating the vagus nerve to force the brain to run at 50% instead of the 10% a human brain will ordinarily use.  Shaman’s disease is the scaring of the vagus nerve from repeated over stimulation in their quest to unlock the secrets of the universe through time travel, astro-projection, and parallel reality surfing.

Now we have CERN and the most sophisticated technology, the greatest scientific minds on the planet, and the biggest machine ever created for the purpose of surfing parallel realities without contracting Shaman's disease or losing themselves in the process.  And they're doing this stuff right here and now.

As a side note, when I returned from my road trip, I discovered the Peavey amp I've been using non-stop for the past eight years, and most recently used to power the field generator I specifically designed to run today, September 23, 2015, died yesterday.  It was operational before I left.

In the words of Yogi Berra, who also died yesterday, "It's deja vu all over again."



    

slaughtering the innocent

I first heard about the Sylvia Likens murder from an article in Midnight, a supermarket tabloid that was known to make up sensational news stories.  A week later I read the same story in Time magazine, which proved to me that this horrible crime actually happened.  My first thought was kudos to Midnight for managing to scoop Time magazine, followed by the feeling there must be something more to this story than the insane details.  I mean, there's gotta be reasons that started this fiasco that wasn't reported.  The sad fact was there were no reasons to remotely justify such actions, other than permission from a psychopathic adult.

In Indianapolis, 1965, Sylvia Likens and her sister Jenny (16 and 15 years old, respectively) came to live with a woman from their neighborhood, Gertrude Baniszewski (bani-SHEF-ski), while their parents held jobs traveling with a carnival. Lester and Betty Likens agreed to pay Gertrude $20 a week to board their two daughters, without ever really examining the house where they would be living. Gertrude was a sickly woman who already had seven children. She was depressed and stressed from having lived such a hard life. She began taking her frustrations out on the Likens girls, and eventually Sylvia was the main target. 

Gertrude started the abuse with punishments by paddling with a fraternity-type paddle or a belt. Gertrude soon encouraged her children and other kids from the neighborhood who often visited the Baniszewski house to also abuse Sylvia under the guise of "punishment" for various acts. The abuse escalated. Cigarettes were put out on Sylvia's body (she had over 100 burns on her when she died); Gertrude twice roughly kicked Sylvia in the genitals; she was denied food; had the baby's dirty diaper shoved in her mouth; was kicked and/or thrown down the basement stairs several times; was given baths in scalding hot water; had salt rubbed into her open sores; and was twice forced to stand naked in front of Gertrude and other children and shove a Coke bottle into her vagina. The words "I'm a prostitute and proud of it!" were carved into her stomach with a needle and a crude "3" was burned above this with a hot branding iron. Sylvia never received real medical treatment for her numerous burns and sores, and accompanied with the malnourishment, shock, and repeated blows to the head causing subdural hematoma (brain bleeding or hemorrhaging), Sylvia finally succumbed to her injuries and died on October 26, 1965, only 4 months after arriving at the Baniszewski house.

Growing up, I knew everyone in my town.  If not personally, I knew about them, where they lived, what they did for a living, etc.  Not that we got into anyone's business or anything but if one of them had a 16 year old girl in the basement that was abused on a regular basis we'd know about it.

The tribe I ran with were similar to the Baniszewski kids and their friends, a lively mix of good kids who got in trouble from time to time and hoods that were destined to end up in prison.  About half of us were on probation for petty crimes and on more than a few occasions the state and local police would come to my parents house to question me about various infractions of the law, which made my parents less than happy.

We were no angels and we had a reputation but we all agreed on one thing.  If any of us knew of the kind of abuse inflicted on someone like Sylvia Likens we wouldn't hesitate to pay a visit on them and exact some payback with tire irons and baseball bats.  We couldn't understand how something like this could go on for months without anyone knowing about it.  Hell, we knew who had company from out of town and who was on vacation, where and for how long.  How could Gerty's neighbors not know?  We figured Indiana must be a fucked up place to live.

Some facts... Gertrude Baniszewski had seven kids from two different men.  Her first husband was a cop.  Sylvia's parents had lots of kids and sent them to different places so they could do their carnival thing unhindered by their children.  Only Sylvia and Jenny, her polio inflicted sister, needed to be boarded and their father made the deal with a woman he didn't even know for $20 a week.  Jenny made no attempt to help her sister, even though Sylvia took the punishment instead of Jenny.  At the trial, the kids said they tortured Sylvia because Gerty told them to.  On the stand, Gerty claimed innocence and blamed her own children for everything.  After the trial, Jenny was taken care of by the prosecuting attorney, at the request of Mr. and Mrs. Likens, until they could financially take care of her themselves.  Sylvia died a virgin and Gerty's daughter Paula gave birth to a baby girl during the trial.  She named it Gertrude, in honour of her mother.

I think r/K selection theory might shed some light on this event.

It seems pretty clear that Gertrude didn't much care for raising her own offspring, let along raising someone elses.  The Likens didn't seem to care who took care of their kids, just as long as they didn't have to.  Both families seemed to have a total lack of compassion or feeling towards anyone.  Only Sylvia exhibited the K select character traits of compassion, loyalty, and empathy by sacrificing herself to months of extreme torture to keep her sister from the same fate.  From the first cigarette burn it was clear these girls wouldn't get out alive.  Either that or Gertrude never thought about what she would tell the Likens when they came to pick up their kids.  In the end, the kids blamed Gertrude and Gertrude put the blame solely on the kids.  After all that Jenny was put through, her parents still didn't want her and gave her to another stranger to take care of.  Wild dogs have more compassion.

I have nothing but contempt for both of these families.

Gertrude got parole after 20 years for first degree murder and her kids got a few years for manslaughter.  The one boy is a preacher who found God in prison and the two older sisters are public school teachers.  (I know guys who got more than that for drug possession.)   

Don't you feel safer knowing the world is leaning toward r select conditioning in favor of K select values?

   

all we need is love

Vibrational Medicine

In the late 1980s, Lieserl, the daughter of the famous genius, donated 1,400 letters, written by Einstein, to the Hebrew University, with orders not to publish their contents until two decades after his death. This is one of them, for Lieserl Einstein..


“When I proposed the theory of relativity, very few understood me, and what I will reveal now to transmit to mankind will also collide with the misunderstanding and prejudice in the world.


I ask you to guard the letters as long as necessary, years, decades, until society is advanced enough to accept what I will explain below.


There is an extremely powerful force that, so far, science has not found a formal explanation to. It is a force that includes and governs all others, and is even behind any phenomenon operating in the universe and has not yet been identified by us.


This universal force is LOVE. When scientists looked for a unified theory of the universe they forgot the most powerful unseen force.
Love is Light, that enlightens those who give and receive it.


Love is gravity, because it makes some people feel attracted to others.


Love is power, because it multiplies the best we have, and allows humanity not to be extinguished in their blind selfishness. Love unfolds and reveals.


For love we live and die.


Love is God and God is Love.


This force explains everything and gives meaning to life. This is the variable that we have ignored for too long, maybe because we are afraid of love because it is the only energy in the universe that man has not learned to drive at will.
To give visibility to love, I made a simple substitution in my most famous equation.


If instead of E = mc2, we accept that the energy to heal the world can be obtained through love multiplied by the speed of light squared, we arrive at the conclusion that love is the most powerful force there is, because it has no limits. After the failure of humanity in the use and control of the other forces of the universe that have turned against us, it is urgent that we nourish ourselves with another kind of energy…


If we want our species to survive, if we are to find meaning in life, if we want to save the world and every sentient being that inhabits it, love is the one and only answer.


Perhaps we are not yet ready to make a bomb of love, a device powerful enough to entirely destroy the hate, selfishness and greed that devastate the planet.


However, each individual carries within them a small but powerful generator of love whose energy is waiting to be released. When we learn to give and receive this universal energy, dear Lieserl, we will have affirmed that love conquers all, is able to transcend everything and anything, because love is the quintessence of life.


I deeply regret not having been able to express what is in my heart, which has quietly beaten for you all my life. Maybe it’s too late to apologize, but as time is relative, I need to tell you that I love you and thanks to you I have reached the ultimate answer! “.


Your father Albert Einstein

it's not just a flag

The confederate battle flag is now gone from government buildings in South Carolina.  There is talk, petitions, and main stream news calling for the removal of statues of Jefferson Davis, Robert E. Lee, and any other southern hero who fought for the confederacy.  The removal of these likenesses aren't limited to government buildings, but parks, universities, schools, town squares, and any other place a member of the general public might catch a glimpse of confederate civil war history.

It seems there are people out there that think the civil war was all about slavery and nothing else and the confederate battle flag is a symbol of our racist past when every white southern man and woman owned plantations filled with black slaves working for nothing while the Scarlett O’Haras and the Rhett Butlers lived lives of royal excess.

This tunnel vision distortion of the war between the states is reason enough to remove any public reference of that evil period in American history, to let the American people heal and move forward.

Of course, removing the flag from government buildings was just the beginning.  Why stop there?  The south is loaded with statues and likenesses of great men who happened to have loyalties to their state more than the federal government.  These were the best men and soldiers this country ever produced and they sacrificed everything they had for what they believed in.

Robert E. Lee graduated second in his class at West Point.  He chose to lead the confederate states rather than take a union command and wage war on his home state, Virginia.  Arlington House, The Robert E. Lee Memorial was once Lee's home.  It overlooks the Potomac River and the National Mall in Washington, D.C.  During the Civil War, the grounds of the mansion were selected as the site of Arlington National Cemetery, in part to ensure that Lee would never again be able to return to his home.  Spoils of war, I guess.  The United States designated the mansion as a National Memorial to Lee in 1955, a mark of widespread respect for him in both the North and South. 

Winston Churchill once said "Lee was the noblest American who ever lived and was one of the greatest commanders known to the annals of war."

Two holidays have been struck from the official calendar and replaced with the innocuous term "state holiday."

A list of 2015 state holidays on Georgia's website proclaims Robert E. Lee's birthday on January 19, but notes it will be observed on November 27. It also lists Confederate Memorial Day on April 26 with its day of observance as April 27.

There's an effort in Mobile, Alabama to change a street named after Robert E. Lee.  The new name of the street hasn't been decided yet.  It seems they just want the name changed.

The University of Texas wants to move all confederate statues.  

Saying he didn't want to offend people, Bubba Watson on Friday elaborated on the rationale behind his decision to paint an American flag over the Confederate battle flag on the General Lee, the 1969 Dodge Charger featured in "The Dukes of Hazzard."

TVLand will no longer show reruns of The Dukes of Hazzard and refuses to comment if the decision had anything to do with the name of the car or paint job.

These aren't isolated events but a small part of a growing trend to re-write history by removing any and all references of southern pride with the excuse that these symbols might offend someone.  We've seen this before.

Chinese emperors routinely re-wrote history to put themselves in a better light.  Stalin sent millions to the Gulags who knew too much about Russian history.  The de-nazification and social engineering of Germany after WWII is still in place, making even talking about Hitler a crime punished by imprisonment.
The victors write the history books and they're always the good guys.

So, what's the big deal with the battle flag now?  Why is anyone remotely interested in the hyper sensitivities of a few idiots who are suddenly offended by a flag that was flying for 150 years?

Dylann Roof, what's why.  He's the guy who took some selfies holding a confederate flag before he killed nine black people in a bible study meeting in a Charleston, NC church basement.  The logic and reasoning is since he had a confederate flag, he must be a murdering racist and his flag is proof because the south was the only place on Earth that had slaves and they killed lots of Yankees to keep em.  Really?

Personally, I think the Charleston shooting was just as fake as Sandy Hook and served to launch another agenda.  The importance of the agenda is directly proportional to the level of Obama's involvement.  After Sandy Hook, Obama got on TV, wiped off non-existent tears, and went to Newtown for some photo ops.  For the Charleston shooting Obama not only went on TV with his gun control speal and went to Charleston for a photo op but did the eulogy, indicating a higher level of importance.  The primary agenda is always guns and crazy white people getting guns and doing crazy shit with guns and gun control.  Each event has a secondary agenda that isn't as clear but is definitely Hegelian in nature.

Thesis, antithesis, synthesis.  Or, problem, reaction, solution.

Problem... Crazy white racist kills black people in a southern church.

Reaction... Terror in the streets.  Race riots, race war.

Solution... Neutralize the opposition by capturing their flag.

Soldiers strongly believed they represented their home state and much of the morale of Civil War units was focused on that pride. And a state regiment typically carried its own flag into battle.

To a Civil War soldier, the loss of a regimental flag was a colossal disgrace. The entire regiment would feel shamed if the flag was captured and carried away by the enemy.

To capture the battle flag of an opponent was considered a great triumph, and captured flags were cherished as trophies. Accounts of Civil War battles in newspapers at the time would generally mention if any enemy flags had been captured.

150 years ago, a Civil War soldier's first loyalty was their home state.  Only the bravest had the honor of carrying their state's colors into battle.  South Carolina not only gave up their flag without a fight, they fought to bring it down.  Bunch of cowardly bastards sucking Washington ass, if you ask me.

Obama said he was going to fundamentally change America.  Ya think this is part of what he had in mind? 

I wonder if Obama has a confederate battle flag as a trophy.

        

how to get laid without trying

The r/K selection theory has been around since the '60's.  It relates to the selection of combinations of traits in an organism that trade off between quantity and quality of offspring.

K-selected species display traits associated with living at densities close to carrying capacity, and typically are strong competitors in such crowded niches that invest more heavily in fewer offspring, each of which has a relatively high probability of surviving to adulthood.

In stable or predictable environments, K-selection predominates as the ability to compete successfully.  Limited resources are crucial and populations of K-selected organisms typically are very constant in number and close to the maximum that the environment can bear.

K-select characteristics can include large body size, long life expectancy, and fewer offspring, which often require extensive parental care before they mature.

K-select=King Kong

By comparison, r-selected species are those that place an emphasis on a high growth rate and typically exploit less-crowded ecological niches, and produce many offspring, each of which has a relatively low probability of surviving to adulthood.

In unstable or unpredictable environments, r-selection predominates as the ability to reproduce quickly is crucial. There is little advantage in adaptations that permit successful competition with other organisms, because the environment is likely to change again. Among the traits that are thought to characterize r-selection are small body size, early maturity onset, short generation time, and the ability to disperse offspring widely.

r select=rabbits

Rabbits could be considered the epitome of r-selection.  They eat grass, a never ending food supplied by nature.  Rabbits excel at eating, reproduction in large numbers shortly after birth, and laying waste to gardens.  Baby rabbits are born and left to fend for themselves with no parental nurturing.  Rabbits aren't very bright and could be considered the dumbest animals on the planet.  Without predators to keep their numbers down, rabbits can easily over-populate an area, eat everything in sight, and die off when the food supply is exhausted.  Rabbits can not exhibit any loyalty or emotional attachment to peers or anything else. 

Wolves can be considered K-select.  Their food supply is less abundant, which stimulates competition and tends to embrace monogamy, and favor high-investment, two-parent parenting, with an emphasis upon rearing as successful an offspring as possible, giving them the tools to acquire resources themselves, and reproduce successfully.  Wolves form competitive groups and develop strategies to acquire resources.  For these reasons, wolves are usually more evolutionarily advanced than their r-selected counterparts, and will exhibit more complex adaptations, from increased intelligence and sentience, to increased physical capabilities, to loyalty and social hierarchy.        

Yeah, sounds like some boring biology shit, but when you plug humans into this equation it brings it all a little closer to home.

There was a time in America when K-select humans were the norm.  They worked, got married, bought a home, raised kids, sent them to school, helped them with their homework to get good grades to get a better job so that they could live the American dream.  Free market economy ruled and everyone got excited when the new cars came out in September.

The tide has shifted and r-select humans are the new norm.  Single girls are now single moms.  Dad has been replaced by the government with an endless supply of food, clothing, and shelter.  Each offspring brings in more resources from Uncle Sam who sends the checks by mail.  An endless food supply, no competition, and free sex with no responsibilities.  Why work when you can get it for free, right?

This also creates a very fundamental difference between the mating preferences of r-select and K-select females.  Where K-select females tend to be more cautious in selecting a mate, one who will stick around and nurture and support them and their offspring with a big house, bank account, and offshore accounts that successful K-select males tend to acquire, r-select females become sexually active at a much earlier age and are geared more for breeding without the burden of the guy sticking around afterword.  They already have a sugar daddy... Uncle Sam, and his pockets are deep and he sends the check on time every month. 

Just because an r-select human female will have sex with just about anyone doesn't mean she'll have sex with you, unless you're r-select as well.
This is the fundamental difference between r-select and K-select humans.  r-select females breed only with their own kind, regardless of race, age, or national origin.  It's the core ideology at the genetic level that takes preference over everything else.

But there's hope for all you K-select guys out there that want some hot action from a nubile, young, r-select female in her sexual prime.  Use some of those K-select talents you were born with like subterfuge, stealth, and cunning.  Tell her how great Obama is and how you wish he could run for a third term so he can get us more money and how the rich have too much and how their money should go to the people who really need it.  Praise Hillary for being the first woman president and that you voted for Obama six times in the last election and you will do it again.  Have a discussion about climate change and how using less toilet paper will save the rain forest.  Talk about how we need more gun control and the constitution was written by old, rich, slave owning men a long time ago and it's time we change it.  Let her know if they raise the minimum wage to 20 bucks an hour you might get a job, if you can keep your EBT card.

Ya know... pretend you're a liberal.

               

a new orgone field generator

A couple weeks ago I mentioned I wanted to build a device to link to the CERN computers to get into this doorway to another dimension action they're getting into.  Not that I intend to help these guys in any way.  I just want to see if I could observe it when it goes down.  Sort of a scalar driven remote viewer.

Crazy idea, I know, but it was enough to get me off my ass and build another power unit that might be good enough to replace the one on my PVC CB. 

In the center of this field generator is a ring of extremely dense orgonite with a 100' mobius coil. The inner ring consists of 6t black iron oxide and 1t powdered aluminum and just under a quart of resin.  The medium density, and bulk of this unit, is aluminum chips, trace amounts of powdered metals, and brass shavings.  Eight magnets were fixed to the outside of the mould to polarize the metals closest to the coil.  The last and final layer consists of resin and powdered selenite.

On it's own, this unit will just passively transmute DOR (dangerous orgone) into POR (healthy, life-enhancing orgone) with barely enough energy output to stimulate the extra high density inner ring.  Pumping frequency through the mobius coil is more than enough to kick start the extra high density ring and radically ramp up the power output.  What these units need is something in the center to direct the energy.
 
Each time I build one of these units I end up spending considerable time and energy finding the proper size, shape, and density for a core that's compatible for the unit.  A good core for one unit isn't necessarily good unit for another and I'm at a total loss as to why.  One unit might require the same material as the inner core.  Another unit might work better with a crystalline structure.  Since this unit is meant to concentrate and direct the energy in one direction, I decided to quit messin around and build a new core for this device.


There's three densities to the core you see to your left.  The cone has a copper oxide/powdered aluminum ratio of 3:1 with a half gram of mono-atomic gold.  The cylinder is medium density orgonite housing a three layer orgone accumulator made up of electrical tape and steel wool.  The top of the cylinder, which would be the bottom when complete, has a hematite cap with two cat coils to direct the energy.  The final layer is low density resin with slight traces of iron oxide.

An open 1" copper pipe runs the length of the unit.

This design satisfies the requirements for a ramped up mini orgone accumulator.  Metal on the inside, organic material on the outside with the pipe as the outlet.  Multiple internal layers of metal and organic material should be enough to make this thing kick ass but putting it in a powered up unit will increase the energy output considerably.   Since an orgone accumulator will attract all orgone, DOR as well as POR, this unit should attract and transmute energy better than any passive device.

I wasn't too impressed when I injected this unit with Solfeggio frequencies, the same frequencies that make Jupiter 2 produce that most excellent energy signature you can feel thirty feet away.  When in doubt, try everything so I got the frequency generator from the PVC CB, installed new batteries, hooked it up, and hit the switch.  It took about a minute before the 14Hz saturated the unit.  It started out slow with an energy signature developing around the surface of the cone and about two minutes after that I could feel that distinctive tingle out the top of the pipe.  No doubt about it.  This thing is putting out some concentrated power, directed up the pipe and very little anywhere else.  Dropping a Herkimer crystal down the pipe amped it all the more and the sensation was instantaneous.

I can't help but wonder why my small battery powered frequency generator outperformed the Solfeggio frequencies jacked up through a big ass amplifier.  Why do some units react to one set of frequencies while other units resonate to completely different frequencies and not others?  I know I'm missing something here and all I can do is keep working on it til I find it.

This project is far from complete.  I need to round off the sharp edges, at the very least.  Yeah... edges.  I think I can write a book on orgonite edge theory alone.

          

wheaties bitch

Caitlyn Jenner recently got the Arthur Ashe courage in sports award, even though he hasn't been involved in sports since the 70's.

Caitlyn Jenner, formally known as Bruce Jenner the decathlon champion from the '74 Summer Olympics, received his award looking like a 40 year old MILF with Bruce's voice.  That dude looks like a lady, but he's now a dudette in an evening gown with hands like Michelle Obama and just like Michelle, he is now recognized as female because he identifies himself as that.
 

Rachel Dolezal, ex-NAACP leader identifies herself as black and got the NAACP leadership position on that basis alone, even though she's 100% Caucasian.

Gender and race are now individual choices based on self identity and sanctioned by society and the federal government.  You don't have to get a sex change to become a woman.  All you need to do is adjust your physical appearance, make it known you identify with the female gender, and change your name to something more feminine.  With race change all you need is a hair style that reflects the race you identify with and talk the talk.

Sexual preference is a whole different thing and has no bearing on sexual identity.  Bruce/Caitlyn still likes girls which makes me wonder if he's now a lesbian and if his next marriage will be considered same sex. 

I wonder how far a person can go with changes based on self identity.  Can we legally identify only within our own species or can we include members of other classifications like hominids or primates?  Can we, as Homo Sapiens-Sapiens, identify with Homo Sapiens?  What about early hominids like Bigfoot?  If Bruce Jenner can change genders and Rachel Dolezal can change race, it stands to reason a human could identify with anything from their own species.  Why can't we identify with something from another classification?  Do any rules exist or can we switch identities with little more effort than switching avatars in a video game?  Biology seems to have nothing to do with it.  DNA is still DNA and the best our science can do is change the book cover but society says that's enough.  It's individual preference and self identity that trumps everything else, regardless of our DNA.  Again, is there a line drawn as to how far you can switch identities?  Can I change my national origin as well?  Can I be African American and take advantage of affirmative action?  What about transhumanism?  At what point do you cross the line between courageous and mentally disturbed?

How much do we know about Bruce Jenner?  Olympic athlete, Wheaties box guy, reality show star?  Is that it?  He attended Newtown High School, right next door to Sandy Hook elementary school.  Newtown is also home to the eastern headquarters of The Church of Satan and a beehive of CIA activity.  Is it possible Jenner is a product of MK ULTRA and programmed to publicly transform into a woman as another step in eliminating hero worship and the emasculation of white American males?  Ratings?  Jenner's announcement came at an unprecedented time for trans visibility, including legislative initiatives.  I'd say the timing is spot on, as if it were part of a larger plan.

To be clear, I'm not being judgemental, but Bruce Jenner has a serious mental disturbance that really needs to be addressed.  This guy is seriously fucked up and to give him an award for courage because of his desire to change from an olympic champion to a chick with a dick and allowing him to dress like a girl and give a speech in the voice of Bruce Jenner is second only to the asshole peers in his audience that believe it.

The US Surgeon General Joycelyn Elders, which was sponsored by an LGBT advocacy group, estimated that there are 15,000 transgender people serving in the military.
And from 2001 to 2011, there were 3,177 veterans diagnosed with gender identity disorder according to the Veterans Affairs Department, while overall it is estimated than one in 11,000 male babies and one in 30,000 female babies are born with the disorder, according to the Veterans Health Administration.

It's a mental disorder that's pandered instead of treated.  Would you treat a serial killer by giving him people to kill? 

Wake the fuck up!  He's Bruce Jenner with a mental disorder in a fuckin dress.  Do you really believe that deserves national attention outside of a TV freak show?

 

 

"Hey Bruce, when you sold us your soul to be an olympic champion, you knew there was fine print.  Dyslexia or not, it's time to pay the piper.  Just put on the dress and make-up and tell everyone how great it is to be a lady."