Freedom In The Era of Covid 19 I'll say it openly: I am not vaccinated, and I have no intention of ever being vaccinated, and would go so far as to say that nothing will get me to change my mind on this, not even the death penalty, because I know that getting the vaccine is actually worse than any death by execution. At the same time I have no intention of being a martyr for ANY cause, mine or anyone else's. In that sense, my Czech cowardice has always shown itself to be an evolutionary survival advantage. When totalitarian communism took over my country, I fled Czechoslovakia. When totalitarian police state capitalism took over my adopted country, I fled the United States. Having switched countries eight times already, I can say that it's always resulted in a better life. In the era of Covid 19, switching countries won't make much of a difference because all countries belong to the WHO and are bound by treaty to do as the WHO says, even knowing full well that they have changed the rules of the game in order to define what constitutes a pandemic, and so benefit the medical industry. Countries like Denmark, Sweden, and Japan have done what Windows users would call a "System Restore" to 2019 and gone back to normal, but these were never normal countries to begin with. Same could be said for a country like Belarus which never took this fake plandemic very seriously in the first place. Here in Germany there are inklings of imminent discrimination against the unvaccinated. In the State of Hesse, the government has allowed even supermarkets to deny entry to unvaccinated people. In the United States, a threatened vaccine order by the president has resulted in pre-emptive actions by both the private and public sectors, despite no written law or executive order to that effect. All of these restrictions are both immoral and illegal, and for anyone who holds out long enough, the lawsuit payouts will be immense once the World comes to its senses. It's a similar situation to the Holocaust. All those actions may have been mandated by the government, but they were immoral and illegal. No country's laws can violate the Universal Declaration of Human Rights which clearly states that: -you cannot be discriminated against based on your medical condition -you cannot be forced to disclose your medical condition (including vaccination status) -you cannot be forced into undergoing any medical procedure against your will -you cannot be forced to take any medicine against your will -you cannot be forced to use any kind of medical device against your will (like a face mask) -you have the right to discuss any and all of these issues in any public venue available It also goes without saying that nobody can dictate your fashion choices where I would argue that the wearing of any mask is a fashion choice since it doesn't stop any viruses from getting into your body. Enforced fashions are one of the characteristics of a CULT, and I would argue that Covidianism is just such a cult. There's the facemask for the regular lay believer. Then there are the full-body disposable plastic suits, face shields, and gloves for the "high priests." There's even a "holy water" known as hand sanitiser. For all intents and purposes, the face mask may as well be a "medical burka." According to the medical definition of quarantine as the isolation of sick people from the rest of society, putting everyone under lockdown is a quarantine for all people regardless of diagnosis. This amounts to collective punishment, which is illegal. At the very least it is a presumption of guilt (sickness) which is also illegal, especially when applied against the entire population. The unjustifiable and arbitrary application of quarantines to certain hours of the day or certain types of venues is an indication that none of this is based on any science. They say "trust the science" but if "the science" and the statistics behind it are not verifiable by the individual, then they are automatically matters of faith regardless of their sources, and thus "the science" is more like "the religion" than anything else, especially when you can't even ask certain scientific questions without reprisals, such as "what is in the vaccines?" or "do lockdowns stop the spread of viruses?" "is the Covid 19 virus real?" Nobody has ever actually photographed it, nor even isolated it. What they call a viral isolate available from a brand-name medical lab is actually 100.0% monkey kidney cells (allegedly) infected with the virus. The so-called virus is nothing more than a computer model. That's why any graphical representation of it is always that same cartoon of a ball with protrusions on it. Has science ever been wrong? Sure it has, but it only ever admits to its mistakes after many generations have passed. Are we obliged to worship science as a new religion and take all its dictates at face value? All we have to look at is who has benefited from the Covid crisis: the medical industry. That's why there are military and police guarding the entrances to hospitals because most of them are empty, but using fake numbers and fake statistics, they would have us all believe this is not the case. Covid has been the largest transfer of wealth to the medical and scientific establishment in living memory, and that's why all those soldiers and police are now guarding the hospitals because they have become instruments of dictatorial state power: selectively killing certain segments of the population and refusing to treat others, all based on predetermined criteria. The same can be said of all the Covid testing, whose secret purpose was the most detailed DNA sampling of the population in history. Under medical protocols, nobody can make a determination as to whether or not you have Covid except a medical doctor. No Covid test kit has the authority to do that, especially when all of the packages are clearly labelled "Not intended to diagnose Covid 19," and all the PPF 2 and N95 mask packets say "Not intended to protect against Covid 19." The doctors make their determination on the basis of signs and symptoms. Who provides the doctors with the data on which to base their diagnosis? The patient does, and only the patient bears full responsibility for his own health. Aside from instances of medical malpractice or medical homicide (abortion, euthanasia, and eugenics) nobody else is responsible for your own health but you. A doctor's note serves the same legal purpose as an Affidavit, and the beauty of the legal system is that anyone can write their own Affidavit, and because "all persons are created equal" then every signed Affidavit has the same validity as any other. The solution to all the existing medical tyranny laws is an Affidavit signed by you and stating the following, which you can print several copies of as needed and sign in the presence of any person(s) requesting compliance. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- AFFIDAVIT I, the undersigned [insert name here] declare that I am free of the following symptoms of Covid 19 as defined by both the CDC and WHO: Fever or chills Cough Shortness of breath or difficulty breathing Fatigue Muscle or body aches Headache New loss of taste or smell Sore throat Congestion or runny nose Nausea or vomiting Diarrhea I also affirm my right to medical privacy by not disclosing any other medical information to anyone but my personal physician. Additionally, I retain my right to refuse any medical test, or the use of any medical device on my body without my permission. Signed [signature] Date [date] =========================================================================================================================================== That's all you really need. By accompanying the conveyance of the above document with a photo of the person being served, along with a name and a date, you have additional data to use in your future case against your government for anything from medical discrimination, to attempted genocide. In a few years, all the illegality of the present situation will come to light, as well as the whole genocidal agenda behind it. That's why, in any case related to Covid where you have an actual judgement against you, such as a fine, a delay tactic is in order because not only are the mandates and decrees not laws, they're not even legal, and neither are any fines you may have to pay to exercise your basic rights like shopping, travelling, or operating your business. Furthermore, your rights as a citizen don't end just because of a pandemic even if it rises to the level of a national disaster or a national emergency. The selective, arbitrary, and discriminatory nature of the lockdown rules is proof enough that the whole pandemic is not about some disease but about political power. Why else would the lockdowns apply to only certain classes of business, certain hours of the day or night, and certain classes of people when even the CDC has acknowledged that children, and all mammals can spread the disease. Why aren't the international borders closed to deer and rabbits, but only humans? Why don't cats and dogs have to be tested or vaccinated? The fact that the same people who benefited from all these draconian lockdown laws are the same people who planned this specific scenario in the exercise called Event 201 held in October 2019 makes it all quite obvious. It was all designed to make the rich even richer, and to impoverish what was left of the working class. It was also designed to get all human interactions to take place over the internet, where they are more readily subject to scrutiny by governments and tech companies. The only way to fight against this is by willful non-compliane with any unethical or illegal orders. You can also play along with their little game and become part of the long-term vaccine efficacy study by becoming part of the control group of individuals who can never be vaccinated. This company will even give you a photo ID card you can use to show that you have an exemption: https://www.vaxcontrolgroup.com/ Of course it doesn't protect you against being tested where the tests themselves are infected with something in addition to DNA sample collection, or from having to wear the mask, where all the masks coming out of China are also infected with something unknown.
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Alternate Reality Experience on the D-1 Highway in Czech Republic Here's what happened to me. It was 2004 and me and a friend of mine were driving from Germany to Brno, Czech Republic on the D-1 highway. Right before we got to Brno, we stopped to relieve ourselves at an unfurnished rest area that had just parking spaces and a couple dumpsters. I went into the woods, and as I'm urinating I hear a man's voice behind me politely ask: "Excuse me, sir, would you be interested in buying some coins?" My first thought was "only in the Czech Republic." I said I was interested, and asked him to wait; and he said "no problem." He spoke Czech, by the way. He shows me and my partner an album full of coins mounted in 2x2 holders in pages that held 30 coins each. Some were Silver, and some were ordinary circulation coins from Czechoslovakia, Germany, and the USA. I asked him how much he wanted and he said he would only sell entire pages, at a price (in CZ Crowns) of about 15 USD each. "No less and no more," he said. This was super weird because first of all, I actually do collect coins, and to see him selling lots consisting of about 10 Silver coins and the rest being ordinary junk coins in that combination, and at that price struck me as really odd. Why was the price so low? The Silver coins seemed genuine, so I bought 2 album pages off him, and my friend bought one. I then realised that he had addressed me in Czech, but my friend's car had German plates, so how did he know that I speak Czech? He also spoke some German, so he started telling us that he comes there every day to look through the dumpsters to find aluminium because he has a son who's seriously ill and needs medicine that he has to buy in Austria. He told us he lived in Brno just 5 minutes walking distance from the rest stop, and pointed up to the roadway bridge above the highway that led to his house, indicating that this was the route he would take every day. I made a mental note of the location and another strange detail: he had this homemade wallet made of cardboard and duct tape that looked like a waiter's wallet. The whole time we were there, not one person stopped at the rest stop, although there were the usual cars speeding past us on the D-1 highway. Also, it was broad daylight, late afternoon in the summer. The other weird thing was that his birthday was exactly one day off from my friend's birthday, same year. We told him we would stop by again, and said goodbye. As we left, and passed the overpass, you could clearly see we were already in metropolitan Brno with all the big blocks of flats visible. Made it to our destination, and I went straight for the coins. Took all of them out of their 2x2s and did the sound test, and all checked out, then had a friend look at them who confirmed they were genuine. Couple days later, on the way back, we decided to stop there again but we couldn't find the rest stop. We had gone back and forth on that section of highway, and there had obviously never been such a rest stop on the eastbound side of the highway underneath an overpass. When I got home, I checked Google Maps, and all the available online maps at the time, and even my paper maps, and there was no rest stop there. Never had been. My friend goes past that area regularly, and looks for it every time, with no luck. I myself have been back and even parked in the westernmost section of Brno and searched the area on foot, with no luck. Since then, I've told many of my friends and family about this and everybody keeps looking out for the strange man with a cardboard wallet. We've talked about that incident with my friend many times and just scratch our heads because we could not have both been hallucinating. To this day we don't know what happened. I still have those coins, by the way.
Emphasis Turning I had bought a French restaurant here in Weiden, Germany right in the pedestrian zone and it was an older building. Although it was a French restaurant, there was nothing French about it, so I had hired a French guy to be a waiter there. Then later, I hired a French cook. The waiter was very good at his job so I decided to promote him to manager. He started taking matters into his own hands, and sometimes I didn't like that. One time he ordered authentic French windows for the restaurant and I complained that they were expensive, but in the end I relented because they were very elegant. This was, after all, a French restaurant. Some massive catastrophe had happened worldwide, and I was unable to buy any food or other supplies for my restaurant and all communications were out in all of Germany. I instinctively knew I had to get across the border into Czech Republic about 40 km away to secure these, and made my way on foot towards the border. On the way I met several people travelling the same direction and we formed a group, and we talked as we went. We got to a walled compound where we could see into the inner courtyard through the gate and could see that there were 7 prisoners about to be executed (4 men, 3 women) by various means (hanging, electrocution, and guillotine). As we‘re looking in, a van pulls up, the gate opens, and someone from the van enters the courtyard. Immediately, 4 of the prisoners are freed (3 men, 1 woman) and they enter the van, and it drives off. We continue our journey on foot over several kilometers until I could see the Rozvadov border crossing with its 2 giant white windmills, and an additional third windmill between them that I had never noticed before. This one was twice as large and made of shiny chrome-plated steel. I remarked that I had never seen this windmill before, and as soon as I said that, it slowly started turning. When the rest of the crowd I was with saw this, they were overjoyed. Everyone started jumping for joy and singing. An old man dropped to his kneed and said „Emphasis, it‘s turning!“ I didn‘t know what the fuss was all about and so I asked the old man. He said that the chrome windmill was named Emphasis and that anytime it starts turning, that all the enemies of humanity were rendered powerless. He pointed to a snake in the grass, and it was completely motionless, as if frozen. I then noticed a couple of mosquitoes, and these too were just frozen in time, hanging motionless in the air. I then remembered the execution, and that 4 out of 7 prisoners had been released but that 3 of them had remained. „This too, was for the good of mankind,“ the old man said. As we got closer to the windmill and the border I could see that the windmill had a big smile, and that he also had silver hands that were waving at us. I then noticed the big chrome-plated sign on the base of it that said „Emphasis.“ Crossing the border was uneventful because as we went into town we saw that everything was completely normal in the Czech Republic. The Post Office, gas station, everything was up and running. At that point I realised I had to get back to Germany with the supplies so I could save my failing restaurant. I had this dream around 2016 and never forgot it. Since then I‘ve heard the term „Emphasis turning“ used too many times to be an organic phenomenon of the English language. It‘s not something people usually say. As for the enemies of humanity? Well, they included mosquitoes, so use your imagination. As of this writing, there are still only 2 white windmills sitting directly on the Czech – German border at the Rozvadov - Waidhaus crossing. Various internet legends have it that the turning or not turning of each of them is a signal that border patrol is checking cars. If it‘s the northern one, then it‘s the Germans, and if the southern one it‘s the Czechs. I don‘t recall if either of these (real) windmills were turning in my dream or not. Anyway, take it for what it‘s worth.
Past Life Resurfacing Every once in a while, things happen in your life that can only be explained by the interaction of your life path, whether intentional or not, with elements of a previous existence your soul had experienced in a past life. I won’t go into the mountains of evidence for the existence of reincarnation, because it’s out there, nor the subjective proofs I have had in that regard, specifically those which were made known to me in a series of past-life regression sessions I had with a trained psychologist under hypnosis. Let me just summarise that all my previous lives that I have recalled happened in Eastern Europe. I was born in Eastern Europe, in Czechoslovakia during the Soviet invasion of 1968. At 3 months of age I was moved to Austria, then the USA. In 1976 we moved to West Germany and moved back to the USA in 1977. In 1991 I made the decision to move back to Czechoslovakia, a country I knew only from the story-books of other people’s memories. I had no idea what I was getting into, and the only relatives I had there were people I had never met, nor even knew much about. In retrospect, it was a move somewhere between foolish and progressive. Within 2 months of my arrival I had a job, a surprisingly good one, too. My advantage at the time was my command of both English and Czech, and being a fresh college graduate. In that job, I had, on several occasions interacted with many different people from various countries, as well as high-ranking people in the Czechoslovak government because the company I worked for was a Dutch company engaged in international trade. A series of events caused me to quit that job, and 2 months after that ended, I was hired by another international company from the UK. This particular company was a tobacco company, and my duties included travelling throughout South Moravia and building a sales network for advertising and distribution of the company’s cigarette brands in what later became the Czech Republic. One day, I was making a sales call in a tobacco shop right on the main square of Uherske Hradiste, and just as I was leaving, a man walked in there and immediately recognised me. We walked outside and he asked me if I was “that young American man” who worked for that Dutch company and I told him what had happened. He seemed to know me, and he knew my former boss’s names but I didn’t remember him at all. He was a man in his 70s who bore a strong resemblance to Eduard Shevardnadze, and with him were 3 other guys who wore the same dark business suits like him, one obviously his driver, and one obviously his bodyguard, who wore black sunglasses. They all looked like characters from a Russian mafia movie but I had a deep but unexplainable reaction of positivity and trust toward them all, especially Eduard (for want of a better name). Eduard was the only one of the group who spoke to me, and his English was very good, with a slight French accent. I also took notice of his car, a black Jaguar with French plates and a CD diplomatic sticker. He told me that the job I was doing was beneath me, and that I should be working at a much higher level and making more money. He said he was from Astrakhan, and that he was negotiating some import and export deals between his country (or whatever it was) and various countries in central and western Europe, dealing with everything from heavy machinery to consumer products, and based on what he knew about me, he thought I would be perfect for a position with his company. He seemed to be in a hurry, and even said so, telling me that he was late for a meeting that day, and that he had a lot of work to do. We exchanged business cards, and he insisted that I call him the next month to arrange a more formal meeting and discuss things about the position. His business card was a lot bigger than a normal one, and his company offices were stated as being in both Paris, France, and Astrakhan. He got into the back seat of the Jaguar, and lowered his black-tinted window, saying something like “not to worry,” and that soon I will have a much better job. I was psyched. I couldn’t stop thinking about that encounter throughout the rest of my day as I went about doing my job. I remembered he asked me where I lived, which was Brno, Czech Republic at the time, and he said he was planning on setting up a corporation there as well. What I couldn’t understand about the meeting was my anomalously positive reaction to meeting him. I felt like I had met a long-lost friend, and I almost got the impression he did too. I just KNEW that he was a good guy and that I needed to find out more about him, and whatever outfit he was working for. I carefully placed his business card in the front flap pocket of my business card holder as I prepared to leave Uherske Hradiste to drive back home. Even under normal circumstances, the drive from Uherske Hradiste going west is quite treacherous, especially the sharp twists and turns going through the Buchlov Hills. This night was particularly bad, with freezing rain and icy road conditions. Right around where the Buchlov Hills begin there was a massive traffic jam, and the reason became instantly obvious. It was a car accident and one of the cars had been completely crushed to where it was only about 60cm high but I recognised it immediately as I drove past the accident scene at a snail’s pace. It was a black Jaguar with French plates. No human could have survived inside that car, and I had no doubt in my mind that this was the car of that mysterious man and his colleaugues. As far as car accidents go, I’ve seen some really strange ones, and I couldn’t figure out how the car got crushed like that. I also knew that my meeting with “Eduard” was a fateful one, at least for him. I also knew that I had to at least call one of the phone numbers on his business card and possibly arrange to meet someone else from the company, but as everyone knows, back in 1993 the telecommunications scene was a bit different, and long-distance calls would cost an arm and a leg, and because of that I kept putting it off. A week or so later, my company car was broken into right after I got home and parked it in front of my house. I was about to empty the contents, which always included 6 master cases of cigarettes, and my briefcase. One of the neighbours in my building had seen the robber, and had rung my bell repeatedly but I had just gotten in and was sitting on the bathroom when all of this was happening. By the time I got to my car, the damage had been done. None of the cigarettes were missing. The only thing missing was my briefcase. At that time, I did not have a telephone in my apartment, and neither did anyone else. The only option to call the Police was a phone booth a block away, and when I got there, there was a long line. I explained that it was an emergency and was able to call the Police immediately. They arrived, and took pictures and evidence. It was ridiculous because one of the police officers, a young woman, managed to slice her wrist open on the jagged glass, thus contaminating the scene. I filed a Police report and before that had to drive the car (loaded with cigarettes) with a broken passenger-side window to inside the courtyard of the Police station. The next day was worse, because it was winter, and I had to drive all over town to find an auto glass place that would repair the damage, all the while having cold air blowing at the right side of my head. This resulted in a severe head cold. The window was fixed the next day and I immediately visited the distribution company we were cooperating with and the owner told me that the Police had called, and that my briefcase had been found. This was great news because I had all my business records in there and some new contracts, and other important stuff. Like my business card folder. The briefcase had been found by a doctor in the middle of the woods, on a path he would take as a shortcut to work. I thanked him and took the briefcase home to assess the damages. The only things missing were 6 of my business cards out of that folder, and one of them was that of that mysterious man from Astrakhan. I never did find out what his real name was, although I do know he died the same day he had given me his card. It was on the local TV news, and reported that a fatal accident involving foreigners had occurred on the E50 in the Buchlov Hills. He obviously had a lot of money, and was obviously an important man. Maybe the Police (or someone else) had found MY business card among his personal effects during a search of the car, and maybe they decided to pay me a visit, and attempted to wipe their tracks by stealing HIS business card from me. Maybe I was never meant to contact him again. Then again, maybe I WAS supposed to contact him again, but someone somewhere intervened, for whatever reason.

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Alternate Reality Experience on the D-1 Highway in Czech Republic Here's what happened to me. It was 2004 and me and a friend of mine were driving from Germany to Brno, Czech Republic on the D-1 highway. Right before we got to Brno, we stopped to relieve ourselves at an unfurnished rest area that had just parking spaces and a couple dumpsters. I went into the woods, and as I'm urinating I hear a man's voice behind me politely ask: "Excuse me, sir, would you be interested in buying some coins?" My first thought was "only in the Czech Republic." I said I was interested, and asked him to wait; and he said "no problem." He spoke Czech, by the way. He shows me and my partner an album full of coins mounted in 2x2 holders in pages that held 30 coins each. Some were Silver, and some were ordinary circulation coins from Czechoslovakia, Germany, and the USA. I asked him how much he wanted and he said he would only sell entire pages, at a price (in CZ Crowns) of about 15 USD each. "No less and no more," he said. This was super weird because first of all, I actually do collect coins, and to see him selling lots consisting of about 10 Silver coins and the rest being ordinary junk coins in that combination, and at that price struck me as really odd. Why was the price so low? The Silver coins seemed genuine, so I bought 2 album pages off him, and my friend bought one. I then realised that he had addressed me in Czech, but my friend's car had German plates, so how did he know that I speak Czech? He also spoke some German, so he started telling us that he comes there every day to look through the dumpsters to find aluminium because he has a son who's seriously ill and needs medicine that he has to buy in Austria. He told us he lived in Brno just 5 minutes walking distance from the rest stop, and pointed up to the roadway bridge above the highway that led to his house, indicating that this was the route he would take every day. I made a mental note of the location and another strange detail: he had this homemade wallet made of cardboard and duct tape that looked like a waiter's wallet. The whole time we were there, not one person stopped at the rest stop, although there were the usual cars speeding past us on the D-1 highway. Also, it was broad daylight, late afternoon in the summer. The other weird thing was that his birthday was exactly one day off from my friend's birthday, same year. We told him we would stop by again, and said goodbye. As we left, and passed the overpass, you could clearly see we were already in metropolitan Brno with all the big blocks of flats visible. Made it to our destination, and I went straight for the coins. Took all of them out of their 2x2s and did the sound test, and all checked out, then had a friend look at them who confirmed they were genuine. Couple days later, on the way back, we decided to stop there again but we couldn't find the rest stop. We had gone back and forth on that section of highway, and there had obviously never been such a rest stop on the eastbound side of the highway underneath an overpass. When I got home, I checked Google Maps, and all the available online maps at the time, and even my paper maps, and there was no rest stop there. Never had been. My friend goes past that area regularly, and looks for it every time, with no luck. I myself have been back and even parked in the westernmost section of Brno and searched the area on foot, with no luck. Since then, I've told many of my friends and family about this and everybody keeps looking out for the strange man with a cardboard wallet. We've talked about that incident with my friend many times and just scratch our heads because we could not have both been hallucinating. To this day we don't know what happened. I still have those coins, by the way.
Emphasis Turning I had bought a French restaurant here in Weiden, Germany right in the pedestrian zone and it was an older building. Although it was a French restaurant, there was nothing French about it, so I had hired a French guy to be a waiter there. Then later, I hired a French cook. The waiter was very good at his job so I decided to promote him to manager. He started taking matters into his own hands, and sometimes I didn't like that. One time he ordered authentic French windows for the restaurant and I complained that they were expensive, but in the end I relented because they were very elegant. This was, after all, a French restaurant. Some massive catastrophe had happened worldwide, and I was unable to buy any food or other supplies for my restaurant and all communications were out in all of Germany. I instinctively knew I had to get across the border into Czech Republic about 40 km away to secure these, and made my way on foot towards the border. On the way I met several people travelling the same direction and we formed a group, and we talked as we went. We got to a walled compound where we could see into the inner courtyard through the gate and could see that there were 7 prisoners about to be executed (4 men, 3 women) by various means (hanging, electrocution, and guillotine). As we‘re looking in, a van pulls up, the gate opens, and someone from the van enters the courtyard. Immediately, 4 of the prisoners are freed (3 men, 1 woman) and they enter the van, and it drives off. We continue our journey on foot over several kilometers until I could see the Rozvadov border crossing with its 2 giant white windmills, and an additional third windmill between them that I had never noticed before. This one was twice as large and made of shiny chrome-plated steel. I remarked that I had never seen this windmill before, and as soon as I said that, it slowly started turning. When the rest of the crowd I was with saw this, they were overjoyed. Everyone started jumping for joy and singing. An old man dropped to his kneed and said „Emphasis, it‘s turning!“ I didn‘t know what the fuss was all about and so I asked the old man. He said that the chrome windmill was named Emphasis and that anytime it starts turning, that all the enemies of humanity were rendered powerless. He pointed to a snake in the grass, and it was completely motionless, as if frozen. I then noticed a couple of mosquitoes, and these too were just frozen in time, hanging motionless in the air. I then remembered the execution, and that 4 out of 7 prisoners had been released but that 3 of them had remained. „This too, was for the good of mankind,“ the old man said. As we got closer to the windmill and the border I could see that the windmill had a big smile, and that he also had silver hands that were waving at us. I then noticed the big chrome-plated sign on the base of it that said „Emphasis.“ Crossing the border was uneventful because as we went into town we saw that everything was completely normal in the Czech Republic. The Post Office, gas station, everything was up and running. At that point I realised I had to get back to Germany with the supplies so I could save my failing restaurant. I had this dream around 2016 and never forgot it. Since then I‘ve heard the term „Emphasis turning“ used too many times to be an organic phenomenon of the English language. It‘s not something people usually say. As for the enemies of humanity? Well, they included mosquitoes, so use your imagination. As of this writing, there are still only 2 white windmills sitting directly on the Czech – German border at the Rozvadov - Waidhaus crossing. Various internet legends have it that the turning or not turning of each of them is a signal that border patrol is checking cars. If it‘s the northern one, then it‘s the Germans, and if the southern one it‘s the Czechs. I don‘t recall if either of these (real) windmills were turning in my dream or not. Anyway, take it for what it‘s worth.
Past Life Resurfacing Every once in a while, things happen in your life that can only be explained by the interaction of your life path, whether intentional or not, with elements of a previous existence your soul had experienced in a past life. I won’t go into the mountains of evidence for the existence of reincarnation, because it’s out there, nor the subjective proofs I have had in that regard, specifically those which were made known to me in a series of past-life regression sessions I had with a trained psychologist under hypnosis. Let me just summarise that all my previous lives that I have recalled happened in Eastern Europe. I was born in Eastern Europe, in Czechoslovakia during the Soviet invasion of 1968. At 3 months of age I was moved to Austria, then the USA. In 1976 we moved to West Germany and moved back to the USA in 1977. In 1991 I made the decision to move back to Czechoslovakia, a country I knew only from the story-books of other people’s memories. I had no idea what I was getting into, and the only relatives I had there were people I had never met, nor even knew much about. In retrospect, it was a move somewhere between foolish and progressive. Within 2 months of my arrival I had a job, a surprisingly good one, too. My advantage at the time was my command of both English and Czech, and being a fresh college graduate. In that job, I had, on several occasions interacted with many different people from various countries, as well as high-ranking people in the Czechoslovak government because the company I worked for was a Dutch company engaged in international trade. A series of events caused me to quit that job, and 2 months after that ended, I was hired by another international company from the UK. This particular company was a tobacco company, and my duties included travelling throughout South Moravia and building a sales network for advertising and distribution of the company’s cigarette brands in what later became the Czech Republic. One day, I was making a sales call in a tobacco shop right on the main square of Uherske Hradiste, and just as I was leaving, a man walked in there and immediately recognised me. We walked outside and he asked me if I was “that young American man” who worked for that Dutch company and I told him what had happened. He seemed to know me, and he knew my former boss’s names but I didn’t remember him at all. He was a man in his 70s who bore a strong resemblance to Eduard Shevardnadze, and with him were 3 other guys who wore the same dark business suits like him, one obviously his driver, and one obviously his bodyguard, who wore black sunglasses. They all looked like characters from a Russian mafia movie but I had a deep but unexplainable reaction of positivity and trust toward them all, especially Eduard (for want of a better name). Eduard was the only one of the group who spoke to me, and his English was very good, with a slight French accent. I also took notice of his car, a black Jaguar with French plates and a CD diplomatic sticker. He told me that the job I was doing was beneath me, and that I should be working at a much higher level and making more money. He said he was from Astrakhan, and that he was negotiating some import and export deals between his country (or whatever it was) and various countries in central and western Europe, dealing with everything from heavy machinery to consumer products, and based on what he knew about me, he thought I would be perfect for a position with his company. He seemed to be in a hurry, and even said so, telling me that he was late for a meeting that day, and that he had a lot of work to do. We exchanged business cards, and he insisted that I call him the next month to arrange a more formal meeting and discuss things about the position. His business card was a lot bigger than a normal one, and his company offices were stated as being in both Paris, France, and Astrakhan. He got into the back seat of the Jaguar, and lowered his black-tinted window, saying something like “not to worry,” and that soon I will have a much better job. I was psyched. I couldn’t stop thinking about that encounter throughout the rest of my day as I went about doing my job. I remembered he asked me where I lived, which was Brno, Czech Republic at the time, and he said he was planning on setting up a corporation there as well. What I couldn’t understand about the meeting was my anomalously positive reaction to meeting him. I felt like I had met a long-lost friend, and I almost got the impression he did too. I just KNEW that he was a good guy and that I needed to find out more about him, and whatever outfit he was working for. I carefully placed his business card in the front flap pocket of my business card holder as I prepared to leave Uherske Hradiste to drive back home. Even under normal circumstances, the drive from Uherske Hradiste going west is quite treacherous, especially the sharp twists and turns going through the Buchlov Hills. This night was particularly bad, with freezing rain and icy road conditions. Right around where the Buchlov Hills begin there was a massive traffic jam, and the reason became instantly obvious. It was a car accident and one of the cars had been completely crushed to where it was only about 60cm high but I recognised it immediately as I drove past the accident scene at a snail’s pace. It was a black Jaguar with French plates. No human could have survived inside that car, and I had no doubt in my mind that this was the car of that mysterious man and his colleaugues. As far as car accidents go, I’ve seen some really strange ones, and I couldn’t figure out how the car got crushed like that. I also knew that my meeting with “Eduard” was a fateful one, at least for him. I also knew that I had to at least call one of the phone numbers on his business card and possibly arrange to meet someone else from the company, but as everyone knows, back in 1993 the telecommunications scene was a bit different, and long-distance calls would cost an arm and a leg, and because of that I kept putting it off. A week or so later, my company car was broken into right after I got home and parked it in front of my house. I was about to empty the contents, which always included 6 master cases of cigarettes, and my briefcase. One of the neighbours in my building had seen the robber, and had rung my bell repeatedly but I had just gotten in and was sitting on the bathroom when all of this was happening. By the time I got to my car, the damage had been done. None of the cigarettes were missing. The only thing missing was my briefcase. At that time, I did not have a telephone in my apartment, and neither did anyone else. The only option to call the Police was a phone booth a block away, and when I got there, there was a long line. I explained that it was an emergency and was able to call the Police immediately. They arrived, and took pictures and evidence. It was ridiculous because one of the police officers, a young woman, managed to slice her wrist open on the jagged glass, thus contaminating the scene. I filed a Police report and before that had to drive the car (loaded with cigarettes) with a broken passenger-side window to inside the courtyard of the Police station. The next day was worse, because it was winter, and I had to drive all over town to find an auto glass place that would repair the damage, all the while having cold air blowing at the right side of my head. This resulted in a severe head cold. The window was fixed the next day and I immediately visited the distribution company we were cooperating with and the owner told me that the Police had called, and that my briefcase had been found. This was great news because I had all my business records in there and some new contracts, and other important stuff. Like my business card folder. The briefcase had been found by a doctor in the middle of the woods, on a path he would take as a shortcut to work. I thanked him and took the briefcase home to assess the damages. The only things missing were 6 of my business cards out of that folder, and one of them was that of that mysterious man from Astrakhan. I never did find out what his real name was, although I do know he died the same day he had given me his card. It was on the local TV news, and reported that a fatal accident involving foreigners had occurred on the E50 in the Buchlov Hills. He obviously had a lot of money, and was obviously an important man. Maybe the Police (or someone else) had found MY business card among his personal effects during a search of the car, and maybe they decided to pay me a visit, and attempted to wipe their tracks by stealing HIS business card from me. Maybe I was never meant to contact him again. Then again, maybe I WAS supposed to contact him again, but someone somewhere intervened, for whatever reason.