Killing us softly in San Cugat

On Saturday, July 12, at about 3 in the afternoon, a few friends and I went swimming in a forest swimming pool just outside the Catalan village of San Cugat. Lost among the trees for awhile, we located the pool following the laughter of children that occasionally reached us through the trees, breaking up with the creepy surreality of a SGT Pepper backing track.

Above us planes sprayed trails of fine powder cloud for four hours. They mapped out a grid of interlocking (perpendicular) lines across the sky. The trails slowly fell to earth getting ever wider and fluffier. This was watched with resignation by myself, and with understandable disbelief by my friends. At first, they convinced themselves that they were just normal air plane emissions, but then a passenger plane flew overhead with a trail that disappeared after a minute or so. This I pointed out was a normal emission or contrail. It was the first time they'd seen real chemtrails being sprayed on them. Hard to accept.

However, none of us died, or even felt mildly ill. In fact, we had a great time swimming in the sun despite the sinister doom writing across the sky. So maybe it's just a case of innocuous weather modification or control of a harmful insect pest using chemicals without human consequence. Who knows?

As we left the pool, dark clouds came across from the mountains bringing torrential rain. We got soaking wet on our trek back through the forest. As we walked, one friend wondered how they got these pilots to spray over cities where their friends and families live.

I suppose the answer is through a programme of conditioning and selection. Commanding officers search out candidates that offer complete unquestioning obedience to them. The ones that believe that authority equals truth. These are the pilots chosen for such missions.

You can be sure that the pilots don't check what they are spraying over cities every time they go out on a mission. One day it could be insecticide, the next day, heavy metals... or depleted uranium for all they know.

When I got home I found Kitler hiding under my bed. She sounded as if she was wheezing. I tried to get her out into the light to see what was wrong with her, but every time my hand got close, she hissed. I know better to keep my distance when she's like that.

'It's all mad', I think to myself, 'Kitler's mad. The sky's mad. The earth's mad. I wish it was just me that was mad.'

Solutions # 31: When the truth becomes overwhelming. Just hold on. Hold on.