Anonymous ID: 7b3b82 Jan. 27, 2018, 12:12 p.m. No.181771   🗄️.is 🔗kun   >>1823 >>2124 >>2347

John Barlow is Clown In America

 

www.gnosticmedia.com/manufacturing-the-deadhead-a-product-of-social-engineering-by-joe-atwill-and-jan-irvin/

 

>Furthermore, Grateful Dead song writer John Perry Barlow

>in 2002, admitted in a Forbes magazine interview ironically titled “Why Spy?” that he spent time at CIA headquarters at Langley.

 

Greatful Dead MKULTRA CIA PSYOP

>MK-ULTRA ran a number of its operations near Haight-Ashbury, the San Francisco district where LSD would become commonly used. Declassified CIA records show that there were at least three CIA “safe houses” in the Bay Area where “experiments” – the giving of LSD to unsuspecting citizens - went on. This subproject of MK-ULTRA was code-named “Operation Midnight Climax.” Chief among Operation Midnight Climax’s  safe houses was the one at 225 Chestnut on Telegraph Hill, which operated from 1955 to 1965.

 

Though Gordon Wasson was both chairman for the Council on Foreign Relations

and the Vice President of Public Relations for J.P. Morgan Bank, he is most famous as the individual who “discovered,” or more accurately popularized, magic mushrooms. An article in Life magazine described fantastic visions and experiences Wasson claimed to have had while under their influence (see Life, May 13, 1957 – Seeking the Magic Mushroom). Wasson’s claims were the first description of the effects of psilocybin (“magic”) mushrooms presented to the general public.

Anonymous ID: 7b3b82 Jan. 27, 2018, 12:34 p.m. No.182045   🗄️.is 🔗kun   >>2205

< DJT and Bob Weir

 

Trump is a Greatful Dead fan?

 

First song from Bob after Trump elected about a STORM:

 

www.deadheadland.com/2016/11/13/bob-weir-of-the-grateful-dead-post-trump-election-statement-a-hard-rains-a-gonna-fall/

 

Oh, where have you been, my blue-eyed son?

Oh, where have you been, my darling young one?

I've stumbled on the side of twelve misty mountains

I've walked and I've crawled on six crooked highways

I've stepped in the middle of seven sad forests

I've been out in front of a dozen dead oceans

I've been ten thousand miles in the mouth of a graveyard

And it's a hard, and it's a hard, it's a hard, and it's a hard

And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall

 

Oh, what did you see, my blue-eyed son?

Oh, what did you see, my darling young one?

I saw a newborn baby with wild wolves all around it

I saw a highway of diamonds with nobody on it

I saw a black branch with blood that kept drippin'

I saw a room full of men with their hammers a-bleedin'

I saw a white ladder all covered with water

I saw ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all broken

I saw guns and sharp swords in the hands of young children

And it's a hard, and it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard

And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall

 

And what did you hear, my blue-eyed son?

And what did you hear, my darling young one?

I heard the sound of a thunder, it roared out a warnin'

Heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world

Heard one person starve, I heard many people laughin'

Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter

Heard the sound of a clown who cried in the alley

And it's a hard, and it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard

And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall

 

Oh, who did you meet, my blue-eyed son?

Who did you meet, my darling young one?

I met a young child beside a dead pony

I met a white man who walked a black dog

I met a young woman whose body was burning

I met a young girl, she gave me a rainbow

I met one man who was wounded in love

I met another man who was wounded with hatred

And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard

It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall

 

Oh, what'll you do now, my blue-eyed son?

Oh, what'll you do now, my darling young one?

I'm a-goin' back out 'fore the rain starts a-fallin'

I'll walk to the depths of the deepest black forest

Where the people are many and their hands are all empty

Where the pellets of poison are flooding their waters

Where the home in the valley meets the damp dirty prison

Where the executioner's face is always well-hidden

Where hunger is ugly, where souls are forgotten

Where black is the color, where none is the number

And I'll tell it and think it and speak it and breathe it

And reflect it from the mountain so all souls can see it

Then I'll stand on the ocean until I start sinkin'

But I'll know my song well before I start singin'

And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard

It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall

Anonymous ID: 7b3b82 Jan. 27, 2018, 12:44 p.m. No.182178   🗄️.is 🔗kun

BoB Weir on DJT

 

“If Trump wins, I think the whole thing is going to blow up and we’re going to start over, and that’s always a good thing to do.”

 

He knew..that's why he sang about a storm when Trump was elected.

 

Fugggg