Let the Dead Bury Their Dead

One of the most fundamental traits of human psychology is that none of us like having our established view of the world challenged.

Try telling anyone holding a cell phone to their skull that they’ll likely have a brain tumour in 15 years time (and make that 15 months once 5G goes fully live) and you will  likely receive either an angry glare or a vacant stare. Try it … the opportunities to do so are infinite!

See how nearly everyone using public transport will scroll their smart device even as it irradiates their genitals. Look also at tomorrow’s chemotherapy recipients stand in supermarket queues with their mobiles tucked into bra cup or jeans pocket.

It’s so common-place, now, so unremarkable, that even those of us awake to wireless technology’s dangers will say nothing.

Despite knowing what I know, all that I’ve learned, I don’t warn people and I certainly won’t challenge them. After all, who the hell wants to stand out to be considered some futile Don Quixote figure tilting at windmills?

Left to his own device

But saying nothing becomes more difficult where children are involved.

Seeing a youngster hold a tablet or wireless device right against their still-developing body can be as heartbreaking as it is alarming. Young bones and tissue are especially susceptible to myriad health hazards arising from artificial electromagnetic fields (EMF) and pulses of radio-frequency (RF) radiation.

In such situations you want to avoid frightening the kid and you also don’t want to push mum or dad into a state of either alarm or defensiveness.

When braving Costa’s Wi-Fi yesterday, in order to check emails while BT Open Reach continue to botch my home broadband connection, a boy of about eight years was holding a phone against his stomach at a nearby table.

Two women, one a bit older than the other and therefore possibly his mum, had left him to play with the device as they wrapped themselves in their own conversation.

Remembering that I too was once an eight-year-old, a particularly long time ago, I meekly approached the ensemble once I’d finished my coffee, shut my laptop and was readying to leave.

I handed who I took to be mum a copy of the Digital Survivor flyer and broached the issue of EMFs and RF radiation, how growing bodies are most susceptible, and about increasing incidence of sterility in adults.

I hated doing this; for it’s one thing to go out leafleting the public on city streets but another entirely to invade someone’s quiet space in the corner of a coffee shop.

The older woman, mum, took my interruption well and despite her clearly forced smile talked about how she switches off Wi-Fi at home when it’s bedtime.

I felt she might have thought that I was there to lecture her. But full credit to her for handling the unexpected interjection so well.

Meanwhile, the younger female just gazed on and had a quiet chunter to herself.

As I say, I felt really uncomfortable – not least as the lad continued to cosset his device right against his torso and this seemed unlikely to change.

Consider too that I’m currently spending time in what is a small and probably close-knit community – where challenging custom may result in public trial under threat of birch and ducking pond.

Given Dr. Martin Pall’s warning that humanity faces total sterility and reduced cognitive function within five to seven years, even before 5G rolls out, why say anything to anyone at all?

Indeed, with such a Biblical scale of event now passing over us, “let the dead bury their dead” (Matthew 9:60) really does seem appropriate.

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