A pharmacist names three medications you should avoid at all cost.
Click to view the video: https://x.com/DiedSuddenly_/status/1985769008889807152
Danish Dairy Crisis: Farmers Confirm Mandated ‘Methane-Reducing’ Bovaer Feed Additive Is Killing Cows (Video) Government-funded animal studies confirm Bovaer causes cancer and infertility.
Some time ago I learned Coles were buying meat (beef) from farmers who were using Bovaer feed.
Today I received this from one of my email newsletter sources.
Danish Dairy Crisis: Farmers Confirm Mandated ‘Methane-Reducing’ Bovaer Feed Additive Is Killing Cows (Video)
Government-funded animal studies confirm Bovaer causes cancer and infertility.
A government-mandated “methane-reducing” feed additive called ‘Bovaer’ (here)—already linked to tumors, infertility, and residues in milk—has reportedly triggered a wave of catastrophic health problems in Danish dairy herds since its rollout on October 1, 2025.
Bovaer is developed by DSM-Firmenich (contact), which licenses the drug in Denmark directly.
Bovaer is licensed in the U.S. by Elanco (contact).
This website has been warning about Bovaer since December 2024 (here, here).
Farmers across Denmark are now reporting cows suffering from stomach cramps, fevers, miscarriages, sudden collapses, and drastic drops in milk production.
Some cows reportedly had to be euthanized.
Farmers say symptoms disappear when Bovaer is removed from the feed and return when it’s reintroduced—a pattern that’s prompted emergency calls for a government pause.
The reports are being documented by journalist Kent Nielsen on his Twitter/X account, @Kentfrihedniels.
You can see his X posts below and watch the videos underneath them.
Mandate Timeline: ‘Cow Ambulances’ Across Jutland
Denmark’s new law requires large dairy farms—those with more than 50 cows—to feed Bovaer (chemical name 3-nitrooxypropanol) daily or face fines of up to 10,000 DKK (~$1,450 USD).
The additive, marketed as a climate-friendly methane reducer, was developed by the Dutch-Swiss conglomerate DSM-Firmenich and received funding from Bill Gates.
Since October 1, at least 1,400 farms have been using Bovaer across Jutland and other dairy regions, where reports of “cow ambulances” rushing sick animals for emergency care have circulated widely on Danish social media.
The National Association of Danish Milk Producers (LDM) confirmed it has received many reports from farmers describing identical symptoms—20-30% drops in milk yield, spikes in miscarriages, and neurological distress leading to euthanasia.
LDM chairman Kjartan Poulsen has demanded Agriculture Minister Jacob Jensen issue an immediate moratorium on the mandate.
“We have so many people who call us and are unhappy about what is happening in their crews,” Poulsen told local outlets.
Background: Tumor-Linked Feed Drug Found in Cow Milk
This is not the first safety controversy surrounding Bovaer.
In a New Zealand Environmental Protection Authority (EPA) toxicological assessment, researchers found that 16.82% of the administered Bovaer dose was excreted in milk—the largest pathway of elimination.
That same review documented tumor formation in female rats, reproductive toxicity, and widespread accumulation in vital organs such as the liver, adrenal glands, and reproductive tissues.
“Tumours in female rats … demonstrate carcinogenic potential,” the New Zealand EPA report states.
The FDA, meanwhile, admitted in writing that Bovaer “is a drug” but opted to classify it as a feed additive and bypass the more rigorous animal drug approval process.
The agency’s letter further warns that Bovaer is “not for human use” because it “may damage male fertility and reproductive organs, is potentially harmful when inhaled, and is a skin and eye irritant.”
Despite this, the U.S. Department of Agriculture awarded $22.8 million to Dairy Farmers of America to promote Bovaer use in California, Utah, and Idaho, and the product is already in use in Colorado, New Mexico, Kansas, Vermont, and New York.
Worldwide Push Continues Despite Mounting Evidence
Just months before the Danish crisis, a BlackRock-owned subsidiary, ABB, announced it was constructing the first large-scale global Bovaer production plant in Dalry, Scotland, to “accelerate” adoption of the drug worldwide by November 2025.
According to ABB, Bovaer’s supposed climate benefit—cutting cow methane by 30-45%—would reduce total atmospheric methane by roughly 0.0000000822%, an imperceptible shift achieved by contaminating the milk supply with a known carcinogen.
Bottom Line
Denmark’s dairy crisis is the first real-world mass rollout of Bovaer under government mandate—and early results are alarming: collapsing cows, miscarriages, and dead animals.
The same compound is already being used across the U.S. food supply, classified as a “feed additive” despite FDA acknowledgment that it’s a drug with reproductive and carcinogenic risks.
If Bovaer is harming cows, what is it doing to the people drinking their milk?
If you would like a copy of the email with active links go to: https://open.substack.com/pub/jonfleetwood/p/danish-dairy-crisis-farmers-confirm
Australia’s New Health Control: What You Need to Know
A new Australian Centre for Disease Control is about to switch on — and it’s built to operate above existing privacy and health laws.
The legislation gives one appointed Director-General the power to demand health data “despite any other law”, sign international deals in secret, and bypass parliamentary disallowance.
The price tag? Over $415 million in public funds and no guarantee of oversight.
Stand Up Now Australia is calling for a safety switch before the Act begins on 1 January 2026: real accountability, clear spending, and laws that answer to the people they govern.
We support health coordination, but not unchecked control.
Australians deserve strong public health and strong accountability.
Finish reading:
https://www.standupnowaustralia.com.au/acdc
Rachel Carson
Chemical companies called her “hysterical” and an “unmarried spinster.” She was dying of cancer while they attacked her. Her book started the environmental movement. They tried to destroy her. She won.
Rachel Carson was 54 years old, already one of America’s most celebrated nature writers. Her book The Sea Around Us had spent 86 weeks on the New York Times bestseller list. She was respected, successful, financially secure.
She could have retired comfortably, written more lyrical books about the ocean, enjoyed her success.
Instead, she wrote a book that would make her the most hated woman in corporate America.
Silent Spring hit bookstores in September 1962. Within months, it changed everything.
But the chemical industry—worth billions of dollars—decided to destroy her.
And Rachel Carson was dying. They just didn’t know it yet.
Rachel had grown up loving nature. As a child in rural Pennsylvania, she’d explored forests and streams, collected specimens, dreamed of becoming a writer.
She’d become a marine biologist at a time when women in science faced constant discrimination. She’d worked for the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, writing bulletins about conservation, studying ocean ecosystems.
In 1951, she published The Sea Around Us—a poetic exploration of ocean science that became a surprise bestseller. Suddenly, Rachel Carson was famous. She could write full-time.
She was happy. Her life was good.
Then, in 1958, she received a letter from a friend, Olga Huckins. Olga described how state officials had sprayed DDT pesticide over her private bird sanctuary. Afterward, birds died by the hundreds. The sanctuary was silent.
Rachel had been hearing similar stories. DDT—dichlorodiphenyltrichloroethane—was being sprayed everywhere. On crops. On forests. On suburban neighborhoods to kill mosquitoes. Children played in yards where DDT had just been sprayed.
And birds were dying. Eagles. Falcons. Songbirds.
Their eggshells were thinning. Chicks couldn’t survive. Entire species were declining.
Rachel started researching. What she found horrified her.
DDT and other synthetic pesticides were poison. Not just to insects—to everything.
They accumulated in soil, in water, in the bodies of animals and humans. They moved up the food chain, concentrating at higher levels. Birds of prey were especially vulnerable.
And nobody was regulating them. Chemical companies were making billions selling pesticides, claiming they were perfectly safe. Government agencies accepted the companies’ safety claims without independent testing.
Rachel decided to write about it.
She knew it would be controversial. The chemical industry was powerful. But the truth needed to be told.
She spent four years researching. Reading scientific papers. Interviewing researchers. Documenting case after case of pesticide damage.
And then, in early 1960, she found a lump in her breast.
Cancer.
Rachel’s doctors recommended aggressive treatment: surgery, radiation. The prognosis wasn’t good. Breast cancer in 1960 was often fatal.
She could have stopped writing. Focused on her health. Told her publisher the book would be delayed indefinitely.
She didn’t.
She had surgeries. She endured radiation treatments that left her weak and nauseated. She lost her hair.
And she kept writing.
She wrote in hospital beds. She wrote between treatments. She wrote through pain and exhaustion.
Because she knew: if she didn’t finish this book, nobody would. And people needed to know the truth.
Silent Spring was completed in early 1962. It was published in September, first serialized in The New Yorker, then as a book.
The response was explosive.
Silent Spring opened with a haunting passage: a description of a town where spring came, but no birds sang. The orchards bloomed, but no bees pollinated.
Children played in yards dusted with white powder, and then got sick.
It wasn’t fiction. Rachel was describing what was already happening in towns across America.
The book methodically documented how pesticides were killing wildlife, contaminating water, and potentially causing cancer in humans. She explained bioaccumulation—how poisons concentrate as they move up the food chain.
She wrote with scientific precision but also with emotional power. She made people feel the loss of birdsong, the death of eagles, the poisoning of rivers.
The public response was overwhelming. Silent Spring became an immediate bestseller. People were outraged. Scared. Demanding action.
The chemical industry responded with fury.
Chemical companies spent hundreds of thousands of dollars on a coordinated campaign to destroy Rachel Carson’s credibility.
They didn’t just critique her science—they attacked her personally.
They called her “hysterical”—playing on sexist stereotypes of emotional women.
They called her an “unmarried spinster”—implying she was bitter, unnatural, not a real woman.
They questioned whether she was even a real scientist (she had a Master’s in marine biology and had worked as a government scientist for years).
One chemical company executive said she was “probably a Communist.”
Time magazine’s review said she used “emotion-fanning words” and suggested she’d led a “mystical attack on science.”
The Nutrition Foundation (funded by chemical companies) called her book “science fiction.”
Monsanto published a parody called “The Desolate Year,” imagining a world overrun by insects because pesticides were banned.
Velsicol Chemical Corporation threatened to sue her publisher if they released the book.
It was a coordinated, vicious campaign designed to discredit her before the public could take her seriously.
And Rachel Carson was going through it while dying of cancer.
She never told the public she was sick.
She knew—absolutely knew—that if the chemical companies discovered she had cancer, they’d use it against her. They’d claim she was “emotional” because she was ill. They’d say she was “irrational” from pain medication.
They’d question whether a dying woman could think clearly.
So she kept it secret. Only close friends knew.
In a letter to a friend, she wrote: “Somehow I have no wish to read of my ailments in literary gossip columns. Too much comfort to the chemical companies.”
Even while enduring radiation, while her body was failing, while she knew she might not live to see the impact of her work—she kept fighting publicly.
In 1963, she testified before Congress. She looked frail but spoke with calm authority, presenting her evidence, responding to hostile questions from industry-friendly senators.
She appeared on CBS Reports in a televised debate. She calmly dismantled the chemical industry’s arguments while they accused her of fearmongering.
And slowly, the tide turned.
President Kennedy read Silent Spring. He ordered his Science Advisory Committee to investigate her claims.
In May 1963, the committee released its report: Rachel Carson was right. Pesticides were dangerous. Regulation was needed.
It was vindication. Complete vindication.
But Rachel was dying.
By late 1963, the cancer had spread. She was in constant pain. She struggled to walk. She knew she had months, not years.
She spent her final months quietly, at her home in Maryland, with close friends. She’d done what she set out to do. The environmental movement was beginning. Laws would change.
Rachel Carson died on April 14, 1964, at age 56.
She’d lived just long enough to know she’d won.
After her death, the momentum continued.
In 1970, the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) was created—directly influenced by the awareness Silent Spring had created.
In 1972, DDT was banned in the United States.
Eagle populations recovered. Falcon populations recovered. The silent springs started singing again.
Today, Rachel Carson is recognized as the founder of the modern environmental movement. Silent Spring is considered one of the most influential books of the 20th century.
But she never lived to see most of it. She died knowing she’d started something, but not knowing how far it would go.
Here’s what makes Rachel Carson’s story extraordinary:
She was already successful. She didn’t need to write Silent Spring. She could have stayed comfortable, avoided controversy, kept writing beautiful books about the sea.
She chose to write the truth instead—knowing it would make her enemies, knowing it would be attacked, knowing it might fail.
She was diagnosed with terminal cancer while writing it. She could have stopped. Nobody would have blamed her.
She finished it anyway.
She was viciously attacked by the most powerful corporations in America. They questioned her credentials, her sanity, her womanhood.
She never responded with anger. She just kept presenting evidence, calmly, methodically, until even her critics couldn’t deny the truth.
She testified to Congress while dying. She went on television while undergoing radiation. She kept fighting until her body couldn’t fight anymore.
And she won.
Not just for herself—for eagles, for songbirds, for rivers, for children playing in yards that would no longer be poisoned.
She won for all of us.
Rachel Carson didn’t just write a book. She took on an entire industry while dying, stayed calm while being savaged, and sparked a movement that’s still growing today.
Every environmental protection law owes something to her courage.
Every recovered species owes something to her research.
Every person who’s ever spoken truth to power and been attacked for it owes something to her example.
She was called hysterical. She was called a spinster. She was called a communist and a fearmongerer and a threat to progress.
She was right. About everything.
And she never lived to see how completely, totally right she was.
Remember her name: Rachel Carson.
Remember that she was dying while they attacked her—and never stopped fighting.
Remember that Silent Spring wasn’t just science—it was an act of courage.
Remember that one person, telling the truth, can change the world.
Even if they don’t live to see it.
The springs are singing again because Rachel Carson refused to be silent.
He Complained About Everything
I was standing in a long line at the grocery store — one of those endless, slow-moving ones that test your patience. I sighed, checked my watch, grumbled about how people never hurry up. All I could think about was how much time I was losing.
Then, someone joined the line behind me. At first, I didn’t look back. But I heard a man’s voice — soft, steady, calm.
“Okay, son,” he said, “there are two people walking on the right. The lady in front of us is holding flowers. There’s a man wearing a Santa hat. And over there—someone’s buying a turkey.”
He kept talking like that — describing everything, moment by moment.
I frowned at first, thinking, why’s he narrating all this? But then I turned. And I understood.
The boy beside him — maybe ten, maybe eleven — had his eyes closed. No. Not closed. Just different. He was blind.
And that man… that father… was giving his son the world — one word at a time.
He described every sound, every smile, every rustle of a shopping bag like it was a story worth telling. And the boy? He giggled softly. He saw everything through his father’s voice.
The beeping of the scanner became music. The chatter of people became color. The world that most of us take for granted — that little boy saw it clearer than I ever had.
I stood there, silent. My complaints about time, about the line, about my life — suddenly felt so small.
When they reached the counter, the father said, “There’s a lady ahead of us with shiny red apples, and the man next to her has chocolate — maybe we’ll get one too, what do you think?”
The boy laughed. “I think chocolate always wins, Dad.”
And they both laughed together.
It was such a simple sound. But it felt holy.
As I walked out later, I glanced back one last time. The boy’s tiny hand was in his father’s, his face glowing with happiness — not because he could see the world, but because his father never let him miss it.
That day, I stopped complaining.
Because I realized something — There are people who can’t see the world, and still, they live it better than those of us who can.
Sometimes, you don’t need eyes to see. You just need someone who loves you enough… to describe the world like it’s the most beautiful thing there is.
Comet Lemmon
Goodbye Comet Lemmon. See you again in 1,155 years.
Allopathic medicine was never designed to make you truly healthy
After years of research and experience, the uncomfortable truth is hard to ignore:
Allopathic medicine was never designed to make you truly healthy. It was designed to manage symptoms, just enough to keep you functioning, but not enough to free you from the system.
We’ve been taught to fear our symptoms, to silence them with prescriptions, procedures, and protocols that often suppress the very signals our bodies use to heal. But symptoms aren’t mistakes—they’re messages. They’re your body’s language, calling attention to deeper imbalances that can’t be fixed with a quick pharmaceutical solution.
This system is reactive by nature, wait until something breaks, then treat it. But by then, the root cause is buried, your natural healing instincts are overridden, and your dependency is locked in.
Real health doesn’t come from managing illness.
It comes from understanding your body, rebuilding trust with your biology, and creating the conditions for healing from the inside out. It means tuning into your innate ability to heal and truly believing that healing is possible for you.
The truth is, no one is more qualified to lead your healing than you.
Your body was never the problem. The system is.
And once you see it, you can’t unsee it.
An Ode To Genuine Producers
The man in the three-thousand-dollar suit looked at my hands and asked if I was there to fix the air conditioning.
My hands are thick. The knuckles are scarred from busted wrenches, and there’s a permanent line of grease under my fingernails that no amount of scrubbing can remove. I looked at his hands. They were smooth, pale, with a heavy gold watch on the wrist.
“No, sir,” I said, my voice too deep for the quiet high school library. “I’m here for Career Day. I’m Jason’s dad.”
His smile was polite, but his eyes said it all. You?
My name is Mike. I’m 58 years old. For thirty of those years, I’ve been a long-haul trucker. I’m a widower, a veteran, and a father. My son Jason is a good kid, a senior at this shiny suburban school where I feel about as welcome as a mudflap in a ballroom.
This school… this was my late wife Sarah’s world. She was a teacher here. She loved these hallways, loved these kids. When she passed, this school set up a scholarship in her name. And when my son Jason, God bless him, told his homeroom teacher I was a “logistics and supply chain expert” and that I should speak, I couldn’t say no. It felt like I’d be letting Sarah down.
So I showed up. I parked my F-150—the one I still haven’t paid off—between a brand-new German sedan and a luxury electric SUV. I walked in wearing my best jeans, a clean flannel shirt, and my work boots.
The library was packed with the “A-Team” of parents. Dr. Chen, a neurosurgeon, had a slick video presentation about brain mapping. Mr. Davies, the man with the expensive watch, was next. He ran some kind of investment firm and talked about “leveraging assets” and “Q4 projections.” He used the word “synergy” five times.
I saw the kids’ eyes glazing over. I saw the other parents nodding, pretending they understood. I saw my son Jason slouching in the back row, trying to become invisible.
I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was the principal. “Mr. Riley? You’re next.”
I walked to the front. There was no PowerPoint. No video. Just me. I could feel the weight of their judgment. The whispers from the moms in their yoga pants. “Is he the janitor?” “Whose dad is that?”
I gripped the wooden podium. It was the same one Sarah used to stand at during assemblies. I took a deep breath.
“Good morning,” I said. My voice echoed. “My name is Mike Riley. I’m not a doctor or a banker. I never finished college. I’m a truck driver.”
The silence in the room changed. It went from polite attention to cold, awkward curiosity. The finance guy was already checking his phone.
“My son calls me a ‘logistics expert,’ which is a nice way of saying I drive a very big truck for a very long time. And I guess I’m here to tell you why that matters.”
I looked at Dr. Chen. “Ma’am, with all due respect, what you do is incredible. You save lives. But that machine you use for brain mapping… it didn’t just appear in the hospital. The plastic, the wires, the microchips… they all came from a different factory. They were all put on a pallet, loaded onto a truck, and driven—probably 2,000 miles—by someone like me.”
I turned to the finance guy. “Sir, your graphs are very impressive. But those numbers… they represent ‘things.’ Corn from Iowa. Steel from Ohio. Computers from a port in California. This country… it’s not a website. It’s not an algorithm. It’s a real, physical place. And the only thing connecting all of it… is the highway. And the men and women who refuse to stop driving on it.”
The room was dead quiet.
“In March 2020,” I said, “when the whole world shut down, you were all told to stay home. You learned how to bake bread. You did puzzles. We were told to keep driving.
I was out there. The highways were empty, like a post-apocalyptic movie. There was no one. Just me and 40,000 pounds of… toilet paper. Yeah, I was the guy hauling the toilet paper. You can laugh. But my dispatcher called me, crying, because her elderly mother couldn’t find any. And I drove 18 hours straight, through three states, because I knew that if I didn’t, the shelves would stay empty. You can’t Zoom a five-pound bag of potatoes. You can’t download a bottle of hand sanitizer.”
I saw a few teachers nodding. The kids were leaning forward.
“Two winters ago,” I went on, my voice getting thicker, “I was locked down on I-80 in Wyoming. A blizzard. Shut the whole state down. I sat in my cab for 72 hours. It was 20 below zero. I couldn’t sleep. Not because of the cold, but because of the sound. The hum.
The hum of the refrigeration unit on my trailer. I was hauling a full load of insulin. Life-saving medicine for diabetics. If that reefer unit stopped… if I ran out of fuel… if I just gave up and went to a shelter… that entire load, millions of dollars worth, would be worthless. But it wasn’t the money I thought about. I thought about the grandmother in Denver, the kid in Omaha, waiting for that little vial.
So I sat there. I ate cold rations. I checked the fuel and the temperature gauge every 30 minutes. For three days. I served this country for 12 years in the Army. I thought that was the hardest thing I’d ever do. I was wrong. That blizzard was harder.”
I looked for my son. He was sitting up straight now. His eyes were locked on me.
A kid in the front row, wearing a “Future CEO” t-shirt, raised his hand. “But, like, don’t you regret it? Not going to college? My dad says people who do jobs like that just… didn’t have other options.”
The air was sucked out of the room. I heard the principal give a little gasp.
I looked at that boy. I wasn’t angry. “Son,” I said, “I respect your path. But when the power goes out in a storm, you can’t read your textbooks in the dark. You wait for a lineman. When your toilet backs up, your business degree can’t fix the pipes. You call a plumber. And when you go to the store, you expect food to be there. You expect the lights to be on. You expect the world to work.
We are the ‘other options.’ We’re the people who make your world work. Don’t you ever, for one second, think we’re not proud of that.”
A new voice cut through the silence. It wasn’t mine.
“My mom’s a dispatcher.”
A skinny kid near the back stood up. He was shaking. “My… my mom. She works for a shipping company. She’s the one who answers the calls. People yell at her all day. They… they call her stupid when a package is late.”
His voice cracked, and tears were rolling down his face. “But she’s the one who finds a driver… like you, sir… when a hospital calls and says they’re out of supplies. She’s the one who works all night, on Christmas, moving dots on a screen to make sure the medicine gets there. She’s not stupid.”
He looked right at the “Future CEO” kid.
“Your dad is wrong. My mom is a hero. And so is he.”
The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. The finance guy put his phone down. The neurosurgeon was looking at her own hands.
And my son, Jason, stood up. He walked from the back of the room, right up to the front, and stood next to me. He put his arm around my waist. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to.
I don’t remember what happened after that. I think some people clapped. The principal shook my hand, and her eyes were wet.
On the drive home, Jason was quiet. Finally, he just said, “Dad… I never knew about the insulin. That was… wow.”
“It’s just the job, son.”
“No, it’s not,” he said. “It’s not just a job.”
Here’s the truth: This country isn’t built on spreadsheets or algorithms alone. It’s built on calluses. It’s built on sweat and steel. It’s built on the backs of people who show up, 24/7, in blizzards and pandemics, to keep the lights on and the shelves full.
We are not invisible. We are the foundation.
Next time you meet a kid, don’t just ask, “Where are you going to college?” Ask them, “What do you want to build?” And if they say, “I’m learning to weld,” or “I’m going to be a plumber,” or “I’m gonna drive trucks like my dad,” you look them in the eye and you tell them, “This country needs you. We are all counting on you.”
The Globalist Playbook, Unmasked: von der Leyen’s Chilling Vision for Europe
Camus writes on x:
In a revealing exchange, unelected EU Commission President Ursula von der Leyen demonstrated precisely why she is a stalwart of the globalist elite. Confronted with President Trump’s accurate assessment of their failing climate and immigration policies, her response was a masterclass in bureaucratic arrogance.
What is she really saying? Strip away the polished, WEF-trained rhetoric, and this is the agenda:
–On Sovereignty: She claims “we decide who comes to Europe,” but this “we” is not the people of Europe. It is the unaccountable bureaucracy in Brussels, systematically dismantling national borders and identity. She speaks of “limiting migration” while presiding over a system that has incentivized illegal mass migration, eroding the security and cultural fabric of member nations.
– On Energy & The “Climate Con”: When challenged on the disastrous economic cost of the green agenda, she doubles down. Her commitment to renewables is not about the environment; it is about control. By making Europe dependent on unreliable, expensive “homegrown” energy like wind and solar, she centralizes power in Brussels. She admits the goal is “independence,” but it is an independence from affordable, reliable energy and from global partners like the US, making Europe weaker and its citizens poorer. This is the “gigantic con job” in action—sacrificing prosperity on the altar of a globalist climate cult.
– On Defying the Will of the People: Most tellingly, she boasts that the EU will “stay the course” no matter what. This is the ultimate admission. The concerns of citizens, the warnings of allied leaders, and economic reality are irrelevant. The unelected leadership has a “clear” plan, agreed upon by themselves, and the public’s voice is an inconvenience to be ignored.
Von der Leyen doesn’t represent European voters; she represents the Davos consensus. Her vision is one of a fortress Europe, ruled by technocrats, divorced from democratic accountability, and marching in lockstep towards a deindustrialized, controlled future. This is the globalist blueprint, and she is its chief engineer.
Which is more dangerous – measles or the measles vaccine?
Governments and the obedient lapdogs in the mainstream press are currently going through one of their regular campaigns to persuade parents to have their children vaccinated against measles.
There are two sets of figures which the mainstream media never mention. So here are some hidden truths about measles and the measles vaccine. You probably won’t find these figures on the BBC which disapproves of anyone questioning vaccine safety or efficacy. (Remember, the BBC has stated that they would not interview anyone questioning the value of vaccination whether they were ‘right or wrong’. In my view, you won’t ever get the truth out of the BBC, which seems to me to be simply the propaganda unit for corrupt politicians and the drug companies. I believe the BBC should have been closed down years ago and the staff arrested for fraud and for spreading misinformation. It is my opinion that the world would be a healthier place if censors such as the BBC and YouTube didn’t exist.)
First, the number of deaths caused by measles.
This figure is clearly crucial to the argument.
The notifications of measles infections are surprisingly low. In 2023, for example, the number of notifications of measles was 1,619.
And the number of deaths is usually very low indeed.
In 2023, for example, three people died of measles. (Or, rather, since I heartily distrust official figures they died of or with it.) Two of those who died were adults (who may well have been very old) and one was a child who died from a rare type of infection caused by what is called a `defective’measles virus.
Second, we need to know the number of people injured or killed by the measles vaccine. Side effects can be nasty and include seizures (which may affect 1 in 1,000 of those vaccinated), swelling of the brain and fever.
The UK authorities are shy about sharing information about vaccine related deaths (how curious) but, as usual, the Americans are far more forthcoming.
In the decade 2015 to 2025, a total of 620 individual were hospitalised after being given the measles vaccine and in that decade there were 41 deaths caused by the vaccine. Also 244 children were left disabled. (Remember that these figures represent only a tiny percentage of the real total since doctors are reluctant to blame vaccines for anything. Remember too that I believe there may be long term effects of vaccination.)
In the years since 1989, there have been 258 deaths resulting from the measles vaccine.
Since measles is hardly a major killer, I do think that those figures should make everyone sit up and take notice.
Which is more dangerous – measles or the measles vaccine?
And, I repeat, you should remember that only a very tiny percentage of the total number of injuries and deaths caused by any vaccine are actually reported to the authorities. In most cases some other explanation is found. Doctors don’t like reporting vaccine deaths because they might get sued.
Oh, and remember that children who have been vaccinated against measles may still get it.
And there is something else too – there can sometimes be exceptional risks with any vaccine. So, for example, in Syria in 2014 there were 15 child deaths because of an error or accident with the vaccine. Those should still count as measles vaccine deaths – because they were.
As always I am not saying that you should or should not be vaccinated or have a child vaccinated. Everyone should make their own decision based on the available facts. I am just trying to provide figures which are usually ignored or suppressed by the mainstream media. (As I have discovered to my cost, telling the truth and sharing accurate information can be considered tantamount to a crime these days. It won’t be long before it is a crime. There are people who want truth telling to be regarded as a form of terrorism.)
If you want to more about vaccines and vaccination please read my book `Anyone who tells you vaccines are safe and effective is lying.’ You can find a copy in the bookshop on www.vernoncoleman.com Joe Biden’s White House wanted the book banned but it is still available.
https://open.substack.com/pub/drvernoncoleman/p/which-is-more-dangerous-measles-or