With the show trial of Bradley Manning, Edward Snowden's predation and Michael Hastings' mysterious death, some have wondered what it is the government keeps secret that begs everyone to hop aboard under threat of imprisonment or death.
Keeping secrets is not a good idea. It's done for no good reason, and if you could know a few of the big things the government stole and keeps secret, you'd understand. One of the crown jewels is the antigravity project.
I promised myself I wouldn't let the story of the antigravity project go unspoken or be forgotten, and that I wouldn't give up trying to start a discussion of it. I continue to fail after almost 60 years.
The story's profound silence has produced a void in our collective memory and mine too—almost. Everything in the story is as grand and provocative as it is enchanting.
The vast majority of people in the world never heard of the antigravity project.
For as long as I could understand English after I was born in 1953, I heard about the antigravity project around the house. It was among the first things I heard preschoolers discuss when I hit the sidewalk in my neighborhood without mom in tow in 1956, just before I turned three. That was fortunate, because people living just feet away didn't hear a thing, and most people in the country didn't hear any of it, although a lot of people knew about it.
It was classified, but it wasn't a secret, due to its incredible cost and culture shock potential. It wasn't mentioned in newspapers, radio or television, which was brand new. The millennia-old oral tradition method of sharing information was still intact, and after TV proliferated in the 1960s, oral tradition suddenly vanished.
It was fast, sophisticated and highly structured, with utmost regard for factual accuracy. Kids discussed everything. Science, politics and history were of special interest. As I learned the names of jack knife bodies, blades and handles and the different marbles, I learned about Tesla. Oral tradition was totally unlike the media-style, politicized interpersonal conversation of today.
For instance, I first heard "government by the military is a bad idea" from preschoolers. It was filed under "Short List of Third Reich Errors." Going forward I saw history demonstrates it again and again. It is an idea with such long historical roots, the Romans should have known not to try it. Today, the name Uranus is a red flag to propaganda websites and news outlets can't post my comment because they're afraid I might say, simply, that history shows military government isn't good and doesn't work.
When I saw that seven years ago, I became determined to write about anything and everything, and I was thinking about antigravity and Nikola Tesla. I put it off, hoping it wouldn't be necessary. Clearly it is.
In his 1961 farewell speech about the rise of the military industrial complex, President Eisenhower skated and obfuscated, leaving us to wonder what he meant. He should have been more direct and said, "wake up, dumb bells! The best and biggest thing ever made and that you bought has just been stolen, and you are not getting it back. You were promised the antigravity project technical data, because its cost was roughly equal to the amount of cash in circulation worldwide, approximately $70-80 trillion in 1958 dollar value. Every person on earth and their descendants have a stake in that gigantic investment. The technology provides you with whole-universe transportation and unlimited work potential. Without publication of the data, a few people can now outrun and outshoot you by a very, very great measure, and you have the ultimate in poverty and privation. If this doesn't change, extermination is inevitable."
Since 1958, we've lived in the chaotic economic aftermath of this greatest violation of the public trust. It's caused technological stagnation and reinforcement and safe haven to the idea prosperity and success are the exclusive province of stealing and killing.
"EM propulsion" is a search term a few people enter to find their way to this site, and this is something everyone should definitely know about EM drive. The 1955-1958 antigravity project developed the hardware and operational expertise making light-speed plus travel a reality. It was extracted from Tesla's stolen notes to himself, notes that were things Tesla didn't want to have to remember and far from a how-to guide. Making the technology work was the biggest, most expensive task known to that date. The failure to deliver the promised publication of the technical data remains among the biggest thefts of all time.
The parents of kids in my neighborhood who worked at the local air force base openly described the fantastic things they worked on and learned at the dinner table, then the Sacred Place of Truth. Some of those kids had photographic memories, and talked about fine details I didn't comprehend and can't recall.
They said the drive system consists of two main parts, the input power supply and the output interferometer. The power supply is Tesla's primary circuit, the MEG, or motionless electromagnetic generator. When the data was published, they said, you would have as much power as you could put to work, and it would never cost anyone another penny.
The reason you don't have it already, they said, is because the electrical engineering model had been deliberately castrated to exclude self-charging circuits so rich scumbags could make money selling gas and electricity. Tesla, who started out with free extraction generators, also designed the rotary generator under orders by these people to fool the world into thinking you have to turn a shaft to make electricity.
These generators discard the enormous, diverged Heaviside component, they said, such that one trillionth of the available energy is put into the line for service. The rest is discarded and disregarded. The Heaviside component, they added, could be captured from a rotary generator by simple hardware, and with a fundamental circuit, converted into electricity and put back in the line, stepping up the generator's output by exponential magnitudes.
We don't do that even today. But, rotary generators were always wrong. Tesla himself said that from the start, although his work on these generators and the AC induction motor introduced him to rotating fields, which he found interesting.
The new power supply, it was said, could produce any value of electric current that could be described numerically—without fuel, cost or pollution. It seemed too good to be true, because it would redesign and rebuild everything, kicking off history's largest industrial revolution.
Antigravity, we imagined, made lifting objects of any weight not only possible but relatively quick and easy. Its applications to building, manufacturing and industry were limited only by the imagination. After the data's publication, we pictured everything around us quickly vanishing, replaced by huge, beautiful things no one would have thought possible just a few years before. Ground transportation culture would disappear along with roads, and the sky would hold giant, floating cities.
A local amusement park, like many others, had a flying disk ride that had the straight-faced purpose of indoctrinating people to this very different vehicle we'd all ride. Textbooks told children they'd definitely go to the moon and beyond.
The project was sold on the "threat" of the approach of Planet X, or Nibiru, said to happen after 2012 per Mayan prophecy. I always doubted this story because of the thin support in literature. We've all heard many versions of Nibiru. It turns out Nibiru's last pass was in 550 BC, so it isn't expected for another 1,100 years—assuming Nibiru is real. You can't know. If you had antigravity technology, as you were promised, you could find out by visual observation all by yourself.
We were told that the destruction of the earth would happen, and we would have to put as many people as possible in space exploring for a place to move, and that the world would be very busy with this daunting task. We wondered, but assumed it was a cover story.
The real story, we thought, was that the Roswell crash was real, and part of what seemed an increase of alien air traffic brought about by our growing electromagnetic emanations. At ages three to five, I had to wonder what was true, if any of it was true—but, true or not, it was the best story anyone ever heard.
The kids knew gravity and time occupied places on the electromagnetic spectrum, and they knew Newton's ecliptic solar system model was incorrect, and that even Newton knew it was incorrect. Those things are still not correctly taught in schools.
We knew about Tesla's hidden space theory, that it allowed one to move at speeds far faster than light while avoiding material hazards and cosmic rays, and it allowed one to traverse time and arrive at a specific point in space and time the operator could specify. We considered the implications.
Almost daily we heard of the roadblocks, challenges and advances the project associates encountered, and throughout the work everyone wondered if it could be done. Near the end, the scientists began to experience victories. The discussion grew hotter.
Students of Tesla knew he tried to sell antigravity to the military in the form of a radio-controlled unmanned aerial vehicle that could remain aloft indefinitely and make light speed many years previously. He tried to sell it to DoD in 1915 for a bargain price. They didn't buy it, one of the monumentally stupid things that ever happened. Otherwise, you'd have seen the end of cars, trucks, boats, planes and trains by about 1920, and there'd have been no need for gasoline or diesel engines.
The kids talked about another technology, one that is among the most closely held secrets today. Because with free extraction a space journey could last indefinitely, it was impractical to take everything one might need. Otherwise, one would need a huge vessel filled with things that were mostly useless.
What was needed was a way to create anything at all. Kids said another secret program had highly developed a gadget the size of a transistor radio that could produce anything at all, and destroy anything at all. The gadget could also cure disease, fix injuries and keep you alive virtually forever. So, along with free energy and transportation, we were all about to receive free everything.
It was fun to think about what you'd want if you could have anything free, and as much as you wanted, and what other people would do. Interestingly, we knew what a transistor radio was, but nobody had seen one, and you couldn't purchase one at a local store until sometime in 1959. I've thought about that every time I saw a transistor radio.
Today this is the utmost hot button secret, what Tom Bearden calls "precursor engineering."
In the fall of 1958, I was standing in the curve leading to the end of our street, talking to some kids. I was almost five. One guy who'd had much to say about the antigravity project told us the work was complete, and that the project leaders said the results exceeded expectations. I asked him when we would see the technology. He shrugged and said, "soon." We're still waiting.
It's been sobering indeed through the years to discover, one by one, that the inventions these preschool children talked about are real. We were incredibly happy and excited about standing at the threshold of this unbelievable future. After that boy told me we'd have the information soon, the daily conversation about the antigravity project went totally silent. Then, government made it a point to portray as insane anyone who talked about flying saucers, disqualifying the witnesses—simple and effective, dismissive and vicious.
Apparently someone decided it was too valuable and important to give to the people who paid for it, so it was specially classified and sold on the black market. Tesla would have loved to sell the technology cheaply, and we could have had it after 1915. The antigravity project really happened, and while we reverse engineered crashed alien vehicles, it wasn't necessary because we had Tesla. I knew that at five years old, so very long ago.
I don't possess technical data, never took a secrecy oath, and am free to talk about things told to me by preschoolers as a preschooler. No one used the term "secrecy oath" until after 1960. I had a close look at a flying disk in action in July, 1968. It went to hidden space—a true, whole universe vehicle and one of ours. I didn't learn any of it on the internet or from books.
Radio hosts pull back when John Lear says there are two million humans living on the moon and more on Mars. It's actually possible. Someone born on the moon who had lived there all his life could be more than 50 years old. We went to the moon in an hour in 1961 while launching the Mercury rocket program as a distraction.
I proudly, gladly and sadly salute the fine, excellent dreams of the worthy people in my old neighborhood.
The intelligence community, the military and we the people deserve a better method of declassification than the butchering and barbecuing of guys like Manning and Snowden. It isn't better because the data thieves are such selfish, wretched, filthy killers. With knowledge from programs we paid for, we are their perpetual worker ants. Any person of conscience who had seen and heard what I have and could disclose this important data would do it without hesitation, even at the cost of his life.
Revised 11/5/13: I made superficial changes to this article and wished to link you to this one, in hopes it explains a little more about why this is so important. I gave BeforeItsNews.com the opportunity to reprint this article, and they joined my dreaded list of prior restraint websites.
