A little family history

Something has crystallised in my life and mind recently with a clarity that has irrevocably altered my perceptions of who I am. Just about everything I once thought about myself has been thrown to the four winds and scattered over the Highland moors for the deer to trample on and the grouse to make nests with. When you grow up, your perceptions of normality are conditioned by who you are - your sense of normality is set against the standard of your own life. I've always known I was different to everyone else, but always simply assumed that was because I was clever and they were not. However, it was something that still gnawed away at me my whole life. Was it me or was it them?

A few years back, I began to suspect that I could perhaps be autistic. I read up on it in various places, checked websites, and although it seemed like a comfortable fit there were boxes I couldn't tick. I am not mentally retarded and don't have any learning difficulties whatsoever. Although all the other boxes were ticked, especially the social and psychological ones, you know, the tantrums (meltdowns), having had over 50 jobs since I left school, can't make relationships work, can't read body language, avoiding eye contact, pushing people away, and wanting to be alone all the time, the boxes that required ticks for being mentally retarded in one or two areas remained unticked. My life came into a sort of blurry focus, but the picture wasn't clear enough for any convincing diagnosis so I dismissed it.

After watching The Accountant, I had another look at things and found some information that left me somewhat subdued. There is a form of autism known as Asperger's Syndrome. Rather than being mentally retarded in one or two areas, those with Asperger's are mentally accelerated in one or two areas, sometimes to the point of genius. All of a sudden the total mess that has been my whole life all the way back to my childhood came into sharp focus.

On the plus side, it did allow me to piece the bible together and make sense of it so I'm not complaining. Actually, it took two men's lives to piece the huge puzzle together. Victor Paul spent his whole life travelling the world, speaking with great men everywhere, amassing a mountain of pieces which he then dumped in a huge pile on the floor of one of the barns on the family farm. He managed to put in the straight edges and the corners and filled in a few pieces here and there, but he didn't see the big picture and he was missing a lot of pieces. It took me 40 years to learn everything he knew, find the missing pieces and finish the puzzle.

Here is the Accountant spending a day solving the puzzle of Living Robotics financial dealings and piecing it all together.

 

Here is me spending over 40 years of my life solving the puzzle of the bible and piecing it all together. This is my second working bible. The first one ran out of space for notes and the pages started falling out so I bought a new one and then spent 3 months going through the whole thing page by page transferring important notes to my new bible so I could continue my work.

 

To give you an idea of how much work it took, I once read 72 books to research just one chapter of this class. Ben Affleck did a brilliant job with The Accountant, good job bud, you have really helped a lot of us get to grips with Aspergers.

In reality, it was Martin Luther who actually began this work of making sense of the bible, I didn't, so in fact it has taken over 500 years and many men's lives to finish the job. Well, now It's done. We owe Martin Luther, a Roman Catholic priest who married a nun, and the Roman Catholics who gave their lives during the Reformation a huge debt we can never repay them. Those Roman Catholic protestors became known as the Protestants. Yes, that's right, all Protestants were at one time Roman Catholics. Mine and Victor Paul's work was only possible because of Martin Luther's vision, prayers, courage and believing, and the Roman Catholic Protestants who gave their lives during the Reformation to see that vision live.

When I'd come to terms with having Aspergers, and my emotions had settled a bit, I did a little more research. There is a link between autism and vaccines. Do a Google search, of course, and all you will find are results claiming that vaccines causing autism are conspiracy theories. Well, what do you expect Google to tell you, or not tell you as the case may be? There has been a comprehensive world wide cover up here and renowned consultants and doctors who have voiced concerns about the link between vaccines and autism have lost their jobs and their work has quietly been removed from the Internet. I can't say I blame governments for this. I mean, if the slimy satanic bastards publicly admitted that they were experimenting with children and vaccines, no parent in their right mind would allow their children to be vaccinated against anything. And let's not mention the civil law suits they would face from people like me who have Aspergers.

This is my grandfather, Calum Arnol, who died before I was born and who I never met, having lunch with my grandmother and my dad's four brothers out on the moors in the Outer Hebrides while cutting the peats. My dad isn't in this photo because he was the youngest of 5 brothers and 1 sister and hadn't been born yet. My grandfather was the Head Gamekeeper on the Creed Estate over on the Isle of Lewis, lived in Foresters House in the Castle Grounds, and was reputed to be the strongest man on the island. At one Highland games he was the only man on the island who managed to toss the caber that year. I also learned recently that my grandfather and grandmother read the bible out loud every evening in their home, when all the boys were present. My grandparents ran a home church. They were believers and that's probably why I'm here doing what I'm doing.

 

Here is my Dad with his brothers. Roddy is back left, and next to him is Donny, who I never met. My father Alasdair is next, he was too young to serve in WW2 but was recruited by MI6 because he was a language specialist, hence my growing up in Hong Kong, then his service at the Radio Station and how the family came to Brora. On the right is John Archie who married their sister Mary. Front left is Kenny, who served with SOE in WW2 and operated with the underground in Italy, and next to him is Caley, who I also never met. That's Forester's House behind them in the Castle Grounds over on the Isle of Lewis where they all grew up. This was probably the last time the brothers were together. Kenny served with SOE during WW2, parachuted in behind enemy lines and operated with the underground. Donny flew liberators for coastal command. Caley joined the Lovat Scouts and was one of only 2 men from an intake of 500 who survived the war. My father being the youngest was too young to serve in WW2. Roddy was also too young to serve, and he went on to be the Maths teacher at the school in Stornoway and was affectionately known as Roddy Goosy. My grandfather only had one eye as a result of an injury during WW1 and was consequently nicknamed Goosy Eye, and all the boys inherited the title. I believe Roddy was banned from giving the belt because he broke a couple of wrists. He was a strong man too. I remember driving home from the pub in Stornoway in a taxi late one winter's night. There was ice and snow on the road and the back wheel of the taxi slid into the ditch. Roddy put us all out of the car, put his back to the rear bumper, lifted the back axle off the ground, took a few steps to the side and put the wheels back on the road.

 

Here is an old photo of Foresters House, which was originally called Bayhead House. The car was my dad's first car. I remember driving back from Inverness one day after going down to buy new window wipers for him. He was quiet on the way home, and I knew something profound was on his mind. When I eventually asked him about it, he told me the new window wipers we'd just bought in Inverness cost more than his first car. Always wondered what that car looked like, and here it is. Apparently it didn't have a heater, but dad told me that in winter if he pressed down the clutch going down hills, hot air from the engine would come through and warm his feet.

 

After the war, my dad joined the RAF and was soon recruited by MI6 because he was a language specialist. He eventually spoke at least 5 languages fluently, including Madarin Chinese. Not long after I was born, the family moved out to Hong Kong where dad taught Chinese to agents from around the world at CSOS Little Sai Wan. This was the MI6 station on Hong Kong island back in the 1960s.

 

Here is me during our first tour, which lasted 3 years.

 

When I was 7 years old, the family went out to Hong Kong for a second tour, for four years this time. My childhood was out in Hong Kong, not Scotland. Here is me with my dad enjoying the view across to Kowloon from Wong Nai Chung Gap Road.

 

And here is dad enjoying a social night out with other MI6 men and their wives. Next to my dad is Frank Wilks, who my dad was convinced was a communist spy. Frank was our next door neighbour when the family lived at Hannevilla on Stubbs Road. Next to Frank is Mrs Fok, the owner of the Ascot House Hotel near the racecourse.

 

And here is me beside the car. Dad had a Holden Special, a Vauxhall and a Zephyr Zodiac, and I'm not sure which one this is.

 

And here is my family (dad took the piccie) up The Peak towards the end of the second tour. I must have been around 11 years old when this was taken.

 

With dad being MI6, I was the perfect candidate for experimentation with vaccines out in Hong Kong back in the 1960s. I don't know how many times I was injected with shite while I was a child. I was injected with all sorts of things including BCGs, cholera, yellow fever, smallpox and God knows what else, including what I believe were experimental enhancement vaccines. This might also explain why my sister Morag went off the rails. Poor girl died alone, a drunk, hated by everyone, and no one knew she was autistic. Now the government conveniently brushes us under the carpet so no one finds out about the experiments they are doing with children and vaccines.

 

My life is impossible and what I've done is impossible, because I should have been dead in 1977 while sailing up the Gulf of Aqaba. I didn't know I was autistic. I didn't know there was a reason for my being a manic depressive, or the emotional meltdowns, the tantrums, the social rejections, wanting to be alone all the time, hating to be touched, and everything else. Well, God was there when I asked him for help, and it is because of him I'm here today. I may be the product of experimental government vaccines back in the 1960s, but this little experiment backfired, didn't it. I've done something no one else on planet earth has ever done in the history of the world because I have Aspergers. Without those experimental vaccines I would not have had the genius level intelligence, the driving passion to finish the job, or a sufficiently narrow field of focus to pull it all together. My work is published online to the public domain, free of charge, to the whole world. Even people in Antarctica can read my work with an internet connection and learn how to read and understand the bible.

Here is some interesting family history. My grandfather had a brother called Norman, who served with the Glasgow police. He was aboard the Iolaire when it ran aground in Stornoway harbour, and was one of the few survivors. It was such a tradedy with the loss of so many men returning from war with their families standing on the shore watching the whole thing. Norman told my father that a number of men who knew the harbour went to the bridge and told the captain to change course because they were heading for the rocks. They were ignored and summarily dismissed from the bridge. So, there you go, it was the captain's fault, straight from my Great Uncle Norman who was aboard the ship and was one of the few who survived. The captain was told to alter course by at least three men before the ship ran aground. That information was deleted from the enquiry records.

Here is a video I made of a few snapshots of my life set to one of my own songs called Island. It's a song about living with autism. If I'd known 40 years ago what I know now about my autism, Kaye and I would still be married and Eilidh would be a big part of our family. I'm sorry girls, I'll make it up to you, I miss you both.

 

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Regarding vaccines, please wake up and quit vaccinating your children. I will never take a vaccine ever again for anything, period, and I hope this information will help save lives.

In 2006 I travelled back to Brora to look after dad who was having a bad time. That year I registered at the local surgery and one day the nurse was looking at her wee computer screen thingie in her wee office and suddenly brightened up. Oooo she said, you're eligible for the flu vaccine. I told her I wasn't afraid of the flu, that I was an expert at self isolating and didn't want it. She raised an eyebrow and asked me about my dad. What do you mean? I asked. You should take it to protect him, she said, he's old and has a lot of problems. I thought about that, nodded and had the flu vaccine. Later that year I was hit with the bloodclots. All four of my pulmonary arteries were blocked. It seems that vaccines and bloodclots go hand in hand. Sound familiar? This isn't hearsay, this isn't a conspiracy theory, this is personal experience. Those bloodclots were nearly the death of me on more than one occasion.

A few years later, after being in hospital a couple of times and while I was so breathless and couldn't even climb the stairs, and while they were all scratching their heads in the local surgery thinking I had COPD due to being an ex-smoker or something, one day I found myself in with a nurse again. She looked at her wee computer screen thingie in her wee office and suddenly brightened up. Oooo she said, you're eligible for the pneumonia vaccine. I told her I wasn't afraid of pneumonia, that I was an expert at self isolating and didn't want it. She raised an eyebrow and asked me about my dad. What do you mean? I asked. Pneumonia would most definitely kill him, you should think of him. It is effective for 5 years so you should take it. Again I nodded, thought about my dad, and took the pneumonia vaccine. Two years later I was in ICU on life support with PNEUMONIA amongst other things. I was on life support for 3 days. One or two of the nurses didn't think I was going to make it.

Now here's the thing. You see, it wasn't the nurse or the doctor that decided the flu vaccine and the pneumonia vaccine would probably be good for me, it was some nameless faceless anonymous shadowy person on the other end of a computer screen who flagged me up for the vaccines. Those little vials of vaccine were made specially just for me and had my name on them. All very personal. Someone had taken the time to single me out for specific vaccines, made the vials up just for me and sent them up to the surgery to the nurse. Sounds a little scary when you think of it in this light hey? Vaccines are not designed to help us, they are designed to kill us. Stop taking them.

By the way, I now enjoy good health, and being able to breathe freely again is wonderful. I believed for that healing and cure for 11 years, from 2006 until 2017 when after a 10 hour operation at Papworth hospital those blood clots were removed. There is a heck of a lot more to this story, but suffice to say the world tried real hard to stop me from finishing my work.

Personally, I don't think government agencies send assassins like James Bond around the world shooting people, I think they single out their victims and then instruct their assets in the NHS and Big Pharma to make up vaccines for them which they know will kill them while also making truck loads of cash through cancer treatments, medications, and hospital visits. I think vaccines are how assassins operate. No more vaccines for me, folks, and I'd suggest you and your family don't take any either. By the way, Fauci is a jesuit.