• aubreygannredmon

When the Red Pill Sticks in Your Throat

I suppose the easiest thing I could do would be to write about my favorite things: hugs, laughter, flowers, books, fresh baked cookies, juicy summer peaches, and warm, sunny summer days filled with glistening glacial waters and deep emerald trees dotting mountains that soar up into the clouds.


Maybe the day will come for such a post, but it is not today.


Today, humanity stands at the precipice. Unfathomable, unmentionable unknowns lay ahead in a shrouded abyss that even the most skilled of seers cannot peer through. So...today's post, after a nearly four month hiatus, will be part story, part history, and part philosophical.


There are things we know intellectually, and then, there are things we know. Inner knowing. That nagging, persistent whisper that tickles the spirit and causes us to wonder before logic and ego slam the door shut. But it is always there, squinting at us through the keyhole, beckoning exploration.


My life changed irrevocably in 2009 when I met a man who I will call Mr. G. I had just left my first job as an associate at a small plaintiff's trial firm and set out on my own as a solo attorney. Through mutual channels, and across country, Mr. G found me and emailed me. He said he had documents he wanted me to see and wanted me to assist him with legal counsel. Mr. G refused to email me the documents; they were too valuable, he said. Besides, the government tracks all of our communications. I thought this was a rather paranoid statement until Mr. G told me that he had retired from the National Security Agency (NSA) and was a whistleblower.


A thick manila envelope with the old-school block letters arrived the following week from Richmond, Virginia. Summer was nearing it zenith and sweat trickled down my back as I walked up to my porch from the sidewalk, staring at the package. Nothing could have prepared me for the moment where my knowing met my knowing.


Inside with a glass of iced tea, I carefully looked at each page. One by one, a picture emerged. It was a horrendous picture, a terrible confirmation of all the knowings I had harbored since childhood. The documents comprised primarily of two categories: the first told a story - the true story - about what they were spraying in the skies...and the second story was a glimpse into the world of CIA trafficking and money laundering. Chemtrails and black budgets. Toxicology reports and people who had disappeared when they raised the alarm about the money. The picture the documents painted were nefarious, and suddenly, I wondered why I was chosen to view these documents and if I should even be looking at them.


I had never quite believed the authorities who purport to run things had our best interests at heart. Mostly, this was due to the perception that there were too many of us, too few of them. It was a lot to manage, and inevitably, it would be a wholly inefficient endeavor doomed to occasional failure. My expectations were low, and I had left it at that. Until those documents. The documents told a different story. The documents told the story of corruption, collusion, and malicious intent. There was more than an underlying greed, but a lust for power and a sense that power and control were commodities that were traded in a dirty, dark underbelly of the most entrenched bureaucracies that ran the world. But what bothered me the most was the lie itself.


The Red Pill was stuck in my throat and I was gagging on it. The lie was so huge it seemed unfathomable. How could it be that our own government was spraying the skies with toxic chemicals that rained down upon us each time a storm passed through. The clouds were manufactured. Which ones were real? Which ones had been conjured up for a nefarious purpose? What was this doing to our air, our soils, and our waters? What effect would this have on our bodies? Those were the initial questions, soon to be followed by an even worse one: why?


Geoengineering was real. They were manipulating the weather. But what did this have to do with the CIA trafficking and money laundering and a black budget of disappearing funds? I noticed there was a link between the two categories of documents; a company that was used over and over again, both in the context of geoengineering and in CIA operations.


I spent months digging, processing, and digging some more. I followed one rabbit hole after another, wondering where the end was. The end was not to be found. It kept going. One lie turned into a web. I finally asked Mr. G the big question: why?


Mr. G gave a cynical chuckle over the phone. "There are simply too many of us," he said.


This was incomprehensible to me. Too many of us? As in human beings?


I swallowed this terrible epiphany and digested it. It didn't sit well. It still doesn't. But I never saw anything the same ever again after that. Everything - each case I worked on, each news story I read, each movie I saw - was through this new lens. My worldview was forever changed. The mortgage suddenly became visible as a death contract binding me to debt slavery. Money wasn't dollars, but instead a computer algorithm that generated debt notes, which represented not assets but liabilities in a much larger sense. Genetically modified crops were meant to solve world hunger; in decades of their use, people still starved to death. They instead created a perpetual cycle of dependency. Everywhere I looked, I saw dependency being sowed, and humanity was becoming ever more distracted and dependent upon systems that were not sustainable, were not renewable, and were not harmonious with Nature but were quite the opposite.


Why do millions of people reject what they know in favor of what they are programmed to believe through media, news, and "experts" with conflicted personal agendas? Because when it is just us, isolated and along choking on the Red Pill stuck in our throats, we are lonely and powerless in the face of a herd who uses shaming, cancellation, virtue signaling, and ultimately, coercion to make us feel insignificant and crazy. It is the ultimate in gas lighting that intelligent debate cannot even be had. Thought control censorship dictates that to question science (which, by the way, is the entire premise of science!), to question authority, to constantly struggle with uncomfortable and terrible possibilities is an inappropriate use of our energy.


Are we not free?


Its a daunting question to ask. It is the thread that if pulled, could unravel the entire fabric of a person's reality.


I don't blame anyone for wanting to forego this inquiry. It is a painful one. We are left to face our ignorance (never a fun thing when dealing with the death of an ego). We grapple with our complicity through blind compliance. And then...the hardest part of all...we must confront our responsibility and accountability, reconciling the matrix we find ourselves "trapped" in with the world we wish to create. It can be overwhelming. It could mean that everything a person knows, thinks, believes, and the way that they live must change in order to align themselves with their new truth.


As an old friend once used to say to me in a raspy voice that I miss so dearly, "You know how you eat an elephant? One bite at a time."


Humanity: it is time to grab a fork and head into the misty abyss.




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