Saturday, November 8, 2014
Vaccine injury, not marijuana addiction
There are a lot of people out there who will serve as false witnesses or professional false witnesses against me. Some of them are even family members - insecure, emotionally dwarfed male or female brides of the allopathic medical mafia who would go so far as to sell me out by writing a cheesy, phony "I'm worried about John" letter.
Many will claim that I am a "medical excuse" user of marijuana and that marijuana made my headaches worse, not better. They will paint me as an addict rather than a medical user.
They will tell you that I just need to try going off marijuana for "a little longer" - whether that time stretches out to 2 months or 6 months or longer is not important to them - just so long as I lose a lot of weight, brain mass and time. They will cite the fact that when I started using medical cannabis my headaches were 3-4 times per week and now they are every day. The false witnesses and professional false witnesses will try to make you ignore the fact that my neurological injury was due to a vaccine and that it was progressive. I could draw a graph of the frequency of the migraine headaches and a graph of when I started consuming marijuana. It would show a great spike in migraine frequency at the time of the swine flu vaccine, and a gradual increase until the headaches were every day. And then, when the headaches got to 3-4 per week it would show another line for my marijuana consumption. Well, the false witnesses and professional false witnesses will strive to take that information out of context and to make y'all think that it was the marijuana that made my headaches go from 3-4 per week up to one per day instead of a gradual neurological injury from the vaccine.
Many other people have suffered what I might call "sustained release" neurological damage from vaccination - damage that got worse some time after the administration of the vaccine. The woman who was featured in the 1979 60 Minutes report on the 1976 Swine Flu vaccine also had neurological injury that was progressive (it got worse over time). (she joked that she would be "numb to the knees by Friday" as her Guillan-Barre syndrome was getting worse)
In recent weeks, every conversation I have had with my own mother has involved her making a case against my mental health. See, even my own mother would sell me out in 5 minutes and testify against me if given the opportunity! If she doesn't care enough about her son to love who he really is, then I can no longer attempt to change her. If she wants to be like any of the other cowards on Earth who trades the truth for comfort, then I give up.
Even my own mother has gone so far as to pathologize me for not wanting to try more pharmaceutical drugs for the migraine headaches. She doesn't even care that I've discovered the causes. She doesn't care that I'm a pioneer in the field of migraine headaches, and that I'm very much an influential figure in the alternative health world (though presently next to unknown). There are lots of people out there who will tell you that I'm pathological in some way or other for not wanting to take more drugs. Don't be fooled by them. I hope to wean myself off of the pharamaceuticals that I take - and I've been off of Zomig for almost 2 1/2 months now. The dissenters will not tell you that I distrust prescription drugs because they kill gut bacteria - they will not tell you that Zomig has been losing its efficacy for my headaches - they will not tell you that I plan to grow a lot of herbs to supplement the marijuana and get myself off of the prescription. They will not tell you that marijuana got me off of aspirin and caffeine. They will not tell you what many great healers have probably said before me: "every drug wishes that it could be an herb, and every herb wishes that it could be real nutrition."
She (my mother) is the kind of person who has (like many other Americans) blinders for evil. She lives by "hear no evil, see no evil" yet claims to be a Christian!
Readers, I am tired of feeling like a pet moving from one Pet Shack to another. By now you readers can probably tell that I am sovereign in my own thinking but a pampered pet, economically. I feel I have committed a great sin by not taking command of my financial life earlier...I was one of those kids that did not know what they wanted to do with their life when I was younger. Now that I know about the New World Order and now that I know what I want to do with my life I feel disgusted to learn that my own mother would rather have me shocked back to infancy and reprogrammed/brainwashed than let her son be himself!
My mother takes after my despicable ghoul of a father in that she thinks it would be noble to die working on some believable cause. My father, as I've mentioned before, is trying to kill himself with statin drugs and avoiding WAPF nutrition. He takes after the trial attorney Clarence Darrow who croaked in his last court appearance to make the opposition look bad...well, I think my own mother has a similar death wish. If she died preparing Thanksgiving dinner or moving me from one living space to another, she would think it was noble. I am not fooled! After I have done so much work to tell her about foods that could increase her resistance to stress and increase lifespan and reduce inflammation, I am not fooled. I've warned her so many times that my father is insincere, that he is a Satanist, that he intentionally did not let me grow marijuana in order that I would be financially dependent and at the business end of a lot of ammunition for pathologizing John. I've warned her so many times that my father delegated this "mortgage your son" task to her for a strategic reason - to strain my relationship with her. My father, then could not be accused of "not listening" because the mortgaging was outsourced to my mother. I've warned my mother so very many times that the Devil is just using this scenario like a chessboard, and using us like pawns in order to make our relationship stressful or ruin our relationship. But she won't listen! She's blind to evil! There is nothing I can do!
The Devil thinks he is clever "HA HA HA, I can make John hate his own mother, and then she'll die of malnutrition and overwork even though he was trying so hard to give her the right information about food! But because it comes out her son's mouth instead of literally anyone else's mouth on the planet, she won't listen! HA HA HA!"
My mother thinks she is noble "HA HA HA, I can clean up my stoner son's messy apartment and move him from one place to another and drop dead in the process - I'm so noble!"
But there is another side to this story - my side!
My mother doesn't care about any of my opinions. She doesn't care about one word that comes out of my mouth. And in a conversation about the impending mortgage, she told me,
"Your preferences are not important to me at this stage."
Imagine if someone of the caliber of Christopher McCandless was disabled by chemical means and then forced into a new car and a mortgage by his parents! That someone could be me.
You dissenters can blather on about how I'm ungrateful - I am, truly I am so ungrateful! I am ungrateful for things that are forced on me. I am ungrateful to my parents for treating me like a dog instead of a human or a friend. My father's love for the Kohler Method of dog training really shows in his parenting!
No, readers, my parents don't want me to be myself. My father told me to stop investigating when I first warned him about the Illuminati/the New World Order. And when I told him about chemtrails, his comment was, "I was an idealist once, too." My mother wants me to be a "near-perfect" robo-student like my little sister. Be a good little boy and make a painting! Maybe she would like me to paint a nice, noncontroversial zebra like my robo-sister. I know my grandma would like that.
A lot of parents would be thrilled if their kid wanted to live in a yurt with a rocket mass heater and an oil lamp and a composting toilet and a Back to Eden garden! A lot of parents would be thrilled about the financial savings and the ambition! I'm sure my parents would save a fortune if they put me on a piece of weed-infested scrubland and let me get to work.
I've realized that I'm their pet college student! It's time to start bringing in my own finances and then I can tell them to take a hike.
Land is the basis for creating wealth - it is the means for generating money. Let the record show that you readers all know what I asked for - land. I'm happiest as Country John.