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I have posted this multiple times on my previous deleted accounts when the plandemic began. Remember, they were pushing the masks to be worn at all times.

The article: 👇

Today is a special day. June 4th 2019 marks the 15th anniversary of the Killdozer’s rampage through Granby Colorado.

Sit down kids and let me tell you a tale, about a reasonable man driven to do unreasonable things.

Marvin Heemeyer was a man who owned a muffler shop in Granby Colorado. The city council ordained to approve the construction of a concrete factory in the lot across from Marvin’s shop. In the process this blocked the only access road to the muffler shop. Marvin petitioned to stop the construction to no avail. Petitioned to construct a new access road, and even bought the heavy machinery to do so himself. Denied.

The concrete factory went up in disregard to the ramifications on Marvin’s business. To add insult to injury, the factory construction disconnected the muffler shop from the city sewage lines. An indifferent city government then chose to fine Marvin for this.

His business and livelihood were in ruin. Rather than lie down and die, Marvin chose to fight back. Over the course of a year and a half Marvin secretly outfitted the bulldozer he bought to save his business with three foot thick steel and concrete armor, camera systems guarded with bulletproof glass.

On June 4th 2004 Marvin Heemeyer lowered the armored shell over top of himself, entombing himself inside the Killdozer to make his last stand.

He burst fourth from the walls of his muffler shop and straight into the concrete factory that ruined his business. Over the course of the next several hours Marvin drove his Killdozer through 13 buildings owned by those officials that had wronged him, including the city council building itself.

Swat teams swarmed the dozer, but it proved immune to small arms fire and even explosives. Another piece of heavy machinery was even brought out to fight the Killdozer, but it too fell to the dozers righteous fury.

In the end, Marvin’s Killdozer became trapped in one of the buildings it was built to destroy. Marvin chose to take his life, the only life he took that day.

Today we celebrate Killdozer day and Marvin Heemeyer, the last great American folk hero. A man driven to the brink who chose to fight back against an indifferent system.

From notes left behind after his passing:

“I was always willing to be reasonable until I had to be unreasonable. Sometimes reasonable men must do unreasonable things.”

Venn diagrams for everybody!

michaelsmithnews.com is not hosted or published in Australia.

I am currently not in Australia.

Mainstream media in Australia are subject to a suppression order on reporting this story.

BILLY BOB THORNTON EXPLAINS WHY CLEAN ENERGY IS A MYTH – LANDMAN

ABIOGENIC THEORY – THE DEEP HOT BIOSPHERE – THOMAS GOLD

ABIOGENIC THEORY refers to the HYPOTHESIS that certain NATURAL RESOURCES, like PETROLEUM, can originate from NON-LIVING, INORGANIC PROCESSES rather than from the DECOMPOSITION of ANCIENT ORGANIC MATTER.

THE DEEP HOT BIOSPHERE is a SIGNIFICANT BOOK by THOMAS GOLD that challenges CONVENTIONAL VIEWS on the origins of OIL and GAS.

THOMAS GOLD, an Austrian-born ASTROPHYSICIST, presents an ABIOGENIC THEORY that suggests HYDROCARBONS are not merely the result of DECAYED ORGANIC MATTER but are instead formed through ABIOGENIC PROCESSES deep within the EARTH.

KEY CONCEPTS

SUBTERRANEAN ECOSYSTEM

THOMAS GOLD posits that beneath the EARTH’S SURFACE exists a VAST ECOSYSTEM of HEAT-LOVING BACTERIA.

This ECOSYSTEM is believed to be larger than the BIOSPHERE that exists on the SURFACE of the EARTH.

ORIGIN OF HYDROCARBONS

The BOOK argues that OIL and GAS are derived from DEEP GEOLOGICAL PROCESSES rather than from the DECOMPOSITION of ANCIENT ORGANIC MATERIALS.

THOMAS GOLD suggests that the PRESENCE of BIOLOGICAL MOLECULES in OIL does not indicate a BIOLOGICAL ORIGIN but rather CONTAMINATION.

ROLE IN THE ORIGIN OF LIFE

THOMAS GOLD theorizes that these DEEP MICROBES may have been crucial in the DEVELOPMENT OF LIFE on EARTH.

He proposes that LIFE on the SURFACE evolved from these PRIMITIVE BACTERIA that originated in the DEPTHS of the EARTH.

IMPLICATIONS OF THOMAS GOLD’S THEORY

ASPECT

DESCRIPTION

ENERGY RESOURCES

Suggests that OIL RESERVES are more abundant than previously thought.

LIFE BEYOND EARTH

Implies that EXTRATERRESTRIAL LIFE may exist in similar SUBSURFACE CONDITIONS on other PLANETS.

SCIENTIFIC CONTROVERSY

THOMAS GOLD’S IDEAS have sparked DEBATE among GEOLOGISTS and SCIENTISTS, challenging ESTABLISHED THEORIES about FOSSIL FUELS.

THOMAS GOLD’S BOOK encourages a REEVALUATION of how we understand both the EARTH’S GEOLOGY and the potential for LIFE beyond our PLANET.

WELCOME TO BALI

The first thing you notice when you land in Bali is the heat. Not the pleasant, tropical, brochure‑heat they promise in travel ads. No. This is the heat of a thousand hairdryers pointed directly at your face by demons who resent your moisturiser. It hits you the moment the plane door opens — a slap, a warning, a reminder that Bali does not care about your deodorant.

Then comes Immigration.

The queue moves with the urgency of a sloth on Valium. You shuffle forward, inch by inch, clutching your passport like a talisman. The signs all say “Visa on Arrival — Simple, Fast, Easy” which is adorable, like a toddler announcing they’re a dinosaur. You know it’s not true, but you smile anyway.

Eventually, you reach the counter. The officer looks at your passport, looks at you, looks at your passport again, and sighs as if you’ve personally ruined his day. He stamps it with the enthusiasm of a man cancelling a gym membership.

You’re in.

Welcome to Bali, Mister.

The Luggage Carousel of Broken Dreams

The luggage carousel is a social experiment designed to test your faith in humanity. Bags appear in random order, at random intervals, sometimes upside down, sometimes open, sometimes looking like they’ve been mauled by a Komodo dragon.

Your bag, naturally, is last.

When it finally arrives, it’s wet. You don’t ask why. You don’t want to know.

The Taxi Gauntlet

You step outside and immediately regret it. The heat is now joined by a chorus of taxi drivers who descend upon you like seagulls spotting a chip.

“Taxi, Mister?” “Where you go, Mister?” “You need transport, Mister?” “You want lady for tonight, Mister?” “You want man for tonight, Mister?” “You want both, Mister?”

You haven’t even reached the curb and already you’ve been offered more services than your local shopping centre.

You try to be polite. You try to say no. You try to walk with purpose. But they follow you, smiling, hopeful, relentless. You could be on fire and they’d still ask if you needed a ride.

Eventually, you give in and choose a driver who looks the least likely to sell your organs.

The Journey to the Hotel

The drive is a blur of scooters, horns, and near‑death experiences. Your driver weaves through traffic with the confidence of a man who has never once considered mortality.

He chats cheerfully.

“You married, Mister?” “No.” “You want lady for tonight?” “No.” “You want massage?” “No.” “You want mushroom?” “…No.” “You want boyfriend?” “…Still no.” “Okay, Mister. Maybe tomorrow.”

He says this with such optimism you almost feel guilty.

Late Check‑In: The Ritual

You arrive at your hotel. It is not the hotel you remember booking. The photos online showed a modern, stylish boutique resort with infinity pools and tasteful lighting. The reality is a concrete rectangle with a pool that looks like it’s been used to drown secrets.

The receptionist greets you with a smile that suggests she’s been awake since 1998.

“Your room not ready, Mister.”

You check your watch. It’s 11:45pm.

You are too tired to argue. You are too sweaty to care. You are too polite to scream.

After some tapping on a keyboard that is clearly not connected to anything, she hands you a key.

“Room 207. Very nice.”

This is a lie.

The Wrong Accommodation

Room 207 smells like someone once attempted to cook fish using only a hairdryer and regret. The air‑conditioning wheezes like an asthmatic pensioner. The bed has the structural integrity of a wet sponge. The bathroom tiles are held together by hope.

You drop your bags, collapse onto the mattress, and immediately sink into a dip so deep you briefly consider calling for rescue.

Outside, scooters buzz. Dogs bark. Someone is singing karaoke with the confidence of a man who has never heard himself.

You close your eyes.

You are exhausted. You are overwhelmed. You are questioning every decision that led you here.

And yet…

Somewhere beneath the chaos, the heat, the noise, the questionable mattress… you feel it.

That Bali magic.

The promise of stories. The thrill of the unexpected. The sense that tomorrow — or even later tonight — something ridiculous, beautiful, or utterly unhinged will happen.

You smile.

You’re back.

Next... the FIFO King!