The chaotic and pointless Testing and Tracing is like what is happening with Ebola now in DR Congo where the WHO and international agencies have piled in so that thousands are being traced as contacts and then isolated and given PCR tests. It is becoming obvious that Ebola is a hoax and actually people are suffering from arsenic poisoning in areas where mining is taking place to supply demand for lithium!
@rsnokes Thanks so much for your prompt reply. I think it is important to find out. This is a piece I wrote in response to reporting in the British media: https://t.co/RJ04PEz4Xj
There is no Ebola. It’s a hoax. But there are many very sick people with arsenic poisoning who will not infect anyone else. The medical staff in DRC have not been infected but have been poisoned just like their patients.
This article by Jamie Andrews is worth a read:
https://t.co/by2x8hsdj4
Richard Werner, the ex WEF young global leader shocked me yet again with his chilling insights.
You may recall in 2023 he revealed that the purported end game was CBDCs implanted under the skin, using universal basic income to force acceptance.
Now we’re being told UBI will be needed due to AI taking our jobs.
And here’s the clincher!!
He believes the real reason they’re building massive centralised AI data centres is for the implementation of CBDCs.
If this is true, an agenda we thought we had defeated is still coming together in plain sight.
@DuncanWestbury Thank you for this info - very interesting and I will follow your advice and sow without delay once harvested. I had scarified the area before sowing.
@DuncanWestbury Thanks! I won’t bother with the fridge in future if it makes no difference. We had moved house so I couldn’t plant earlier but from now on I will be able to harvest the seeds in summer and sow in autumn.
Liver and onions was on the kitchen table of roughly every British household in the country, at least once a fortnight, from approximately 1850 to approximately 1985.
A Tuesday meal. Whatever day the butcher had lamb's liver in, or pig's liver if you were further down the week, or ox liver if the household was stretching the budget.
Your mother bought it that afternoon. Still warm, or nearly. Deep burgundy, slick and glossy on the butcher's paper. Half a pound. Tuppence. Change from a shilling.
She sliced it quarter of an inch thick, dusted it in seasoned flour, and laid it in a pan where a pound of onions had been going soft in bacon fat for twenty minutes. Two minutes one side. Two minutes the other. The middle still faintly pink. Overcooked liver was a mortal sin in a British kitchen, spoken of by grandmothers with genuine sadness, the way a priest might discuss a lapsed parishioner.
Pan juices deglazed with water and Worcestershire, poured over. Mashed potato. A pile of cabbage. A rasher of bacon laid across the top if it was a good week.
The whole thing cost, in 1962, approximately 8p per serving. It delivered, in a single plate, the highest concentration of bioavailable vitamin A in any food on earth, more B12 than any supplement will ever contain, haem iron at absorption rates a plant source cannot match, copper, zinc, choline, folate, and selenium.
Nobody called it a superfood. Nobody called anything a superfood. It was called Tuesday.
Then, between 1985 and 2005, liver quietly disappeared. Mothers stopped buying it. The butcher stopped ordering it. The supermarket stopped stocking it. By 2010, most British adults under thirty had never knowingly eaten it.
The word now carries a faint cultural embarrassment. A food your nan ate. Something to move past.
Meanwhile, 20% of British women of childbearing age are anaemic. The NHS prescribes them ferrous sulphate tablets that cause nausea and take six months to address a deficiency one plate of liver a fortnight would correct in weeks.
The women taking the tablets are, in many cases, the granddaughters of the women who ate the liver.
The deficiency is cultural amnesia with a prescription attached.
Your butcher still has lamb's liver in the counter. Ask him. He will be delighted. He might throw in the kidneys.
Flour. Bacon fat. Onions. Four minutes total. Worcestershire. Mashed potato underneath.
The grandmother is gone, but the dish remembers her, and so do you, whether you knew her or not.
Eat it. Pass it on.
@NickDixon I just watched the film on YouTube and for anyone who prefers to avoid plates and the little cupboard the full movie can be seen here: https://t.co/aSeHyjBnOf
@EthicalApproach I see it exactly as you do and I’m 78…
But it seems that still not enough see and with VERY few exceptions everyone I know believes the propaganda!