Saturday 3 February 2024

'Hero' of our Times, one of many' - history will honour you.


                                                 Dr Peter McCullough

            When the full and raw history of the Covid nightmare is finally written, the name “McCullough” will sit atop a relatively (very) short list of brave and inspirational figures who stood tall and firm before the tidal wave of tyranny. Restrained and unassuming by nature, this unlikely Titan of the righteous ‘resistance’ has refused to bend his knee despite relentless attempts by corrupt and compromised authorities and institutions to crush and cancel him.

            Typically delivered in his extempore style, this deeply personal testimony was given at the Religious Liberty Weekend conference held in January 2023 at the Village Seventh Day Adventist Church in Berrien Springs, Michigan. In effect, he relates the high cost of conscientious objection to implacable agendas dictated to national governments and transnational bodies by the unelected, unaccountable money powers. Tragically, his hard experience has taught him that very few in today’s affluent West are willing to pay this painful price of priceless freedom.

            Hailing from Presbyterian stock, he stresses above all the spiritual war we are in; relating moments during his providential ‘calling’ to engage in this battle that convinced him--- utterly---of its supernatural nature, thereby transforming his once casual faith.

            Extracts from his introductory biographical information are included not only for their topical interest (the subsequent ‘events’ in Israel and Gaza), but as a summary explanation of the formative and marital influences behind his unwavering commitment, dignity, and resilience. Our transcription/title. Speaker’s emphasis in italics.

Acknowledgements and thanks:- Rod Pead, ‘Christian Order’, November 2023. No.11 Vol. 64.



  “It Is A Spiritual Battle”         by Dr Peter McCullough.

            As a child, I grew up in Buffalo, New York, a steel town, not dissimilar from Detroit, in the 1960s. My family is an Irish immigrant family. My Dad worked in the factory. My family came after the potato famine, which was 1850. My family came from Northern Ireland, and they fared better during the tough times. You heard about the kulaks, and 15 million who died, in an intentional famine in Ukraine.  You heard that earlier today, and that was around 1920.

            Economic hard times fell in the early 1970s. Before we knew it the factory jobs had gone away, and we didn’t have any money. And we got to the point where we lost our car, lost our house, lost everything. And so we packed up a car, and drove to Texas, because we heard at that time there was work in Texas. We landed in Wichita Falls and started out a new beginning in Wichita, Texas.

            So I finished school in Texas. I went to Baylor University undergraduate , the University of Texas Southwestern medical school, I finished top in my class. And then I went on to residency at the University of Washington in Seattle.  I did three years service work ---and at the time it was common, 30 years ago or so, to do service, and so many of my fellow  residents in Seattle became CDC officers, or they were already in the military, or they did some sort of service.  I did a rural health service, and I was in Grayling, Michigan. That’s how I came to Michigan. So I was up in northern Michigan, we really were all over, as a kind of patchwork, trying to deliver healthcare in northern Michigan.

Middle East connection.

And so in the third year of that, I decided I needed more training in epidemiology and statistics. I went to the University of Michigan in Ann Arbour and I studied epidemiology there, and then did my fellowship at William Beaumont Hospital. Then I was fully baked as an internist, a cardiologist and an epidemiologist, well trained and I launched my career. And I married after residency and had two children. We raised our kids in Northville, Michigan. And I’d consider our nuclear family as being solid. We were what I would consider reasonable Christians. I was baptised in Knox Presbyterian church in Kenmore, New York, and we went to a Presbyterian church in Northville.

            My wife is interesting. She is a Christian Palestinian. Her family was of historical importance in Palestine. My wife’s grandfather was the assistant Governor General under (Herbert) Samuel who was the Lord, if you will, of Britain through the British Mandate, who was overseeing the nation-building of Israel. And my wife, on her father’s side, her grandfather was the Stationmaster of the Palestinian railroad. So the Palestinians had a full railroad system, full educational system. And at the time there were about 70,000 original Jews who were right near the ocean in a town called Acre. That’s largely where they were. This was true for about 500 years.

            My wife actually has a Turkish last name, Buyuk. The Ottoman Empire and the Turks controlled that region for 800 years. So the modern nation-building of Israel is a pretty recent phenomenon. So many of the current Israelis there are people who ostensibly are Russian or Polish, or some other.  The current Israeli accent is almost more of a Russian accent. So when I go to Israel, and I go jogging outside, which I do, I fit in, because there’s so many blond-haired Russian-looking people. They don’t look like they are Semites. Both the Palestinians and the Jews are Semites, they’re a Semitic people. And they do have this common origin.

            Hebrew is a limited set of Arabic; an Arabic derived from Aramaic. So Arabic is a broad, very dynamic language, and Hebrew is very limited. So all the Palestinians there can speak Hebrew, readily. My wife, her family, they can speak Hebrew readily as they live in this new environment.  They probably, 500 years ago, could speak Turkish too.

Resilient Christian bedrock

            If you’ve ever been to Nazareth there’s almost no Jews there. It’s almost completely a Palestinian area. It’s within the borders of Israel.  So, Israel, I’ve been there several times, we have real estate there. I’ve found it such an amazingly diverse place.

            One of the things I’ve concluded from going to Israel, is it will never be a Jewish state. Never. It’s the birthplace of Christianity, the original people are still there, the Palestinians. There are Druze, an early sect that has different beliefs. There’s messianic Jews. There’s Franciscans. Christians. If you go to Jerusalem you know the different quarters. By its nature it’s an incredibly multi-cultural, diverse place.  And century, after century, after century there’s one ruling group after another that wants the entire place to be ethnically cleaned. And it’s just not going to happen. The current regime wants it to be a Jewish state. And with forty percent of people who are doing something differently, including Christians, Muslims and others, it’s just not going to happen.

            I think that’s the tension of how things are presented to us. I learnt this after 35 years of marriage. And the reason why I’m telling you all this is because it’s the bedrock of my life and marriage: to have somebody as resilient as a Palestinian, whose family ultimately had to flee after the 1967 war. At that time the Israeli Defence Force had gathered up, the tide had turned in that country, and when they came to my wife’s house, they took the women and children to a ‘refugee camp’, they took the men to a prison work camp for the Israeli Defence Force, and they moved Polish families and Russian families into the family house, which they owned for hundreds of years. And so, after they had two or three years of that, they finally regathered, and then they ultimately took a plane to Toronto and they declared political asylum there, and then they established in Toronto, and that’s where my wife grew up. But it’s the fact that she’s a Palestinian and she’s Christian, and it’s an ancient line of Christianity, and she’s resilient, is very, very important.

Covid-19 upheaval

            So my life was perfect as an academic. I had all the wonderful privileges, of travel and fame, consulting and publishing. I’d given grand rounds in almost every major institution in the United States.  Had a sterling track record. I was studying how heart and kidney function interrelate to one another. And then, Covid-19 hit, and I did instinctively what I thought I should do, and that is to save every life that I possibly could, through my scholarship, my clinical care, my research, my authority in the country to do so. And, I learned within a few weeks, that something was dramatically wrong.

            Doctors who were my friends --- all over, including ones at Beaumont and University of Michigan, and Baylor in Dallas --- were basically letting people die; and get slaughtered by this virus. I couldn’t understand it. They quickly shut down, they didn’t want to talk about it, phone calls weren’t answered, emails weren’t answered, people started blocking one another. But these doctors were going to let their patients get slaughtered, and they did. And I could not believe it.

            And then it just got worse as we moved through the whole era of the vaccines. The same doctors who blocked treatment to their patients, and intentionally let them die, are the same doctors who are promoting and forcing the vaccines on the patients. It’s the same ones. The two are related. I told Tucker Carlson when I went into the (Fox News) studio, I said, Tucker, the two are linked. Something is going on, there’s some type of ‘disturbia’.

            And then, as a reasonable Christian, I started to see things --- when I say reasonable, I meant I went to church, I understood the principles, I accepted Christ as my Saviour, taught my kids Christian principles, but I did not believe God was specifically managing my life. And I really didn’t believe or see the acts of Satan or evil going on. I understood evil as a concept. But I thought everything was in the human realm. I really did.

Satan intervenes

Then what happened in 2020, I realised just even publishing a paper on treating Covid, was --- was almost sacrilege in medicine. That somehow, when I published a paper in the American Journal of Medicine, which is a very good journal, I received letters from (university) editors. I got one from Duke (Carolina), Monash (Australia), McMaster (Canada), from Brazil, and the letters were: Dr McCullough you can’t treat Covid. You can’t treat this. I said, what?  Of course I can. In my letter, I’d even have more and more evidence, I said, overcome your fear, and join me in treating patients, and saving lives. But the response was, you know, ‘I can’t do this.’

And so, as the medicines evolved, I needed to get a second paper updating the (Covid treatment) protocol. And at Baylor, we have the wonderful luxury where (the) American Journal of Cardiology and the Proceedings of the Baylor University Medical Centre were published right in our offices. So, I organised a paper to go in the Proceedings of the Baylor University Medical Centre. And I went through all the peer reviewed process, I got the comments, I made edits, there was a final editorial decision, it was accepted for publication, copyright fees, gallery proofs, publication fees, everything --- it’s done, it’s a done deal, it’s forever going to be permanently in medicine. And by that time I was called by the US Senate, and I needed to cite that paper with the protocol in it. And I was waiting, and I was waiting, and I was waiting, and I was waiting, and nothing happened. And I kept contacting the publisher and Taylor & Francis. And finally I got somebody on the phone (at International publisher Taylor & Francis) and they said, ‘There’s a problem with this paper.’

            Problem?! A “problem” would’ve been two months ago. This is already a done deal, it’s already vetted. I’ve already paid the publication fees, or substantially, I’ve already paid them. It was done.

            They said, you have to go talk to the editor, who happens to be right down the hall from me. So I went right down the hall, and I talked to him. Now this is the senior editor, someone who’s one of the most published people in medicine, the longest standing editor of major journals, Dr Roberts.  I said, ‘Dr Roberts, is there a problem with this paper?’ He goes, ‘I’ve never seen this before, in 40 to 50 years of editing. This paper has been retrieved out of the National Library of Medicine, and now there’s an administrative complaint that it overlaps too much with the first paper.’

            The National Library of Medicine is a computer database. It’s not operated by people. It’s a computer database. There’s something like 20,000 entries made per day. Per day. It doesn’t do matching up of one thing versus another thing. It doesn’t have this (capacity). All the overlap with prior papers, all that’s vetted ahead of time. All that was vetted, I had a whole transmittal of what had happened.

            And when that happened, my face turned beet red. And I knew that something extraordinary had to have happened. It had to. It’s impossible for someone to fish that out (of the National Library of Medicine). It’s impossible for someone to actually be able to ID this, and realise that another treatment paper is coming. It’s impossible. It is physically, and from a computer technology (standpoint) impossible.

            I went home that night, and I told my wife, I think that is an act of Satan.  I think Satan had directly intervened in my life.       

Grace of the Holy Spirit

            And as things became more tense through 2020, I was called to the US Senate, and I was the lead witness in a historic set of hearings, November 19th, 2020. I had to submit a US Senate biography, I got a speech- writer because I had a five minute opening statement, it has to have a certain format, so I hired a speech writer in Washington, and I did this, and it was negotiated with the Senate, it was accepted. And now all I had to do was read my speech. That’s all I had to do.

            And my wife and I went to Washington, I was in the Kimpton Hotel, probably 600 rooms, and there were three people in the entire hotel. All of Washington was shut down. All the Starbucks around were shut down. We literally walked, like three miles, to find a restaurant open, and we went past the Smithsonian, everything was closed down. I realised, Washington, in the fall of 2020, was shut down, our government wasn’t meeting. Everything had been dissolved.

            So that night I was practising my speech and my wife was timing it, and she goes, ‘You’re not making it in five minutes. You’re not making it. You’re not making the time.’ And I am just not a good reader of a message. My habit is to do what I’m doing now, to do it with no prepared comments. I prepare it in my mind, but I speak extemporaneously.

            So, I went to bed that night, I didn’t sleep well. I was about on day seventeen of Covid, I was recovering from Covid, I had a relatively severe case so I was on steroids, and I wasn’t sleeping that well. I hadn’t had my hair cut in months (due to lockdown). And so there I am, I’m on the Senate floor. Opening statements are given by Senator (Ron) Johnson, who’s the (Republican) majority chairman, and then opening statements by Gary Peters from Michigan, who’s the (Democrat) minority chairman.

            Senator Johnson has no mask on, he’s handsome, he’s brilliant, and he’s saying, ‘I’m bringing doctors here to tell America where they have found success in treating patients.’

            And Gary Peters left a black mask on, and Gary Peters said, ’Well, what we’re going to hear today? What I don’t want America to do, is to have any hope.’ (Audience sighs) He meant to say, ‘any false hopes,’ but it slipped out, that he didn’t want America to have any hope. He didn’t want America to have any hope, and I’ll just never forget that.

            The Senate chambers are relatively empty, most people aren’t there. Some people are on-line. We were supposed to have Mitt Romney, and Kamala Harris. Everyone’s in absentia.

            So after the comments, I’m the first witness, and Senator Johnson said, ‘Dr McCullough.’ He introduces me. I look at this impossible 700 – word speech in five minutes. And I look at it, I look at my timer, which I have five minutes, and that’s it. And then I just turn that speech over and I just went. And at that moment, I felt like a jolt of lightning went into my body. And my voice changed, I became aggressive, I became hyper-focused, I didn’t miss a single word, I didn’t stumble on a single point, I showed my protocols, I was clear, and I concluded. I had concluded that American lives were being lost because early treatment was denied. And I had concluded that academic fraud had occurred in the literature, and I used those words. But when I finished, and I looked down, it was five minutes --- not a second more, not a second later. (Applause)

            My heart rate had to be 140. Yeah.  And…I basically realised something had really happened. And then the rest of the proceedings to me were like a blur, even though it was hours it seemed like it was over in minutes. And I went to lunch in an empty restaurant with my wife in Washington, and I told her, ‘Something just happened. Something happened. I felt the Holy Spirit come into me for those five minutes.’ And from that point on, I knew that this was way more than an academic debate. This was way more than science point versus science point.

Prayer and Providence.

            In my involvement, in being called by the media, called by the Senate, I had previously been called by the White House, it just started to happen in a flurry. And, I ultimately amassed probably more media time than any person in the media, right now. Remember, you see Tucker Carlson, he’s on for an hour. You know, there were some days I would be on sixteen TV shows in a day. In a day.

            And it just kept happening, and happening, and happening. And what I had concluded, and what I got in the habit of doing is …for instance,. I’m a frequent contributor on call for Fox, when I go to the Fox studio they’re very nice, they pick me up in a car, and send in a make-up crew and I go through all these steps… but in the preparatory phase, in the commercials and all these lights are on, they shut the door, which is wonderful, so I’m in a box by myself --- I pray. I pray and say ‘God, I’ve got a minute, I’ve got two minutes, I have to …let these words speak through me, let these words come through me, out.’ So when you see me in the media, that’s what I’m doing. I’m trying to let God speak through me.

            And it started to happen on a more regular basis, on a more regular basis. And then I began to do public programmes, like the first one I did here (in Berrien Springs) but I did many more. And it was a cold day in January of 2022, and I was in Minneapolis, and we had some type of death threat that was announced. So it rattled us, my wife was with me, the police were there, they had to check the hotel room, and things had to be checked out. So we were just a little rattled, that this was the first time that this had come up.

            And I got through the programme, and I knew I was going to go right from Minneapolis to Washington, and they had security in Washington because I was going to give a speech on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial for the very first  Defeat the Mandates rally, and I was the first medical speaker. And so things were really tight, and there was a lot of commotion, just, you know, when I showed up there was a huge crowd and everyone wanted to say hi and shake hands, and the security people were pushing me back, like, no, I can’t say hi to anyone, or certainly can’t touch anybody.

            And as I was kind of ushered up on the Lincoln Memorial, I got up there and there I saw this huge crowd, and it was a freezing cold day, and the same thing happened. The same thing happened. (Looking heavenwards in prayerful posture) I just said, ‘Speak. Through. Me.’ And it was seven minutes. Seven. And I hit all the points. I hit all the points, and I stopped and I listened for any dissent from the crowd. And when you look back in history some of the most important speeches (whispering) are the shortest. The Gettysburg address was like two-and-a-half minutes. This is really important.

The Stripping.

            It started to happen over and over again. And then, through this period of time, my interpretation is the acts of Satan have been directed towards me and people in my circles, and probably towards you.

            So, I was walked into an office one day at the hospital, after years of perfect service, patient revenue, grants, success. I had had success with covid, I had testified in the US Senate, people were clapping, they took half a day off to watch the testimony. Six weeks later I was walked into an office, they said, turn in your badge, you’re fired. What was the reason? No reason. No reason. I hadn’t violated the contract, hadn’t violated due process. Didn’t matter. So I scramble …I have to transfer my practice and transfer all the insurance contracts and just a tremendous amount of work, for a doctor who’s busy to now transfer a practice. So I did it within the same medical centre, reset up-shop there, working now at just a fraction of my prior salary but at that point in time it didn’t matter, what matters is taking care of my patients and having a presence, and then I have more media exposure.

            And then the next thing you know I start receiving certified letters or email. Stripped of a professorship at one university. Stripped of a professorship at another university. For no reason. No reason.

            Now let me tell you what. Professorship’s a big deal. There has to be a faculty senate hearing. There has to be points made, discussions. I mean if I committed an act of moral turpitude or something like this, there would be all this investigation. There was nothing, and it was just a very sterile letter: you are stripped of this title. And then a follow-up letter: If you ever use this title publicly we’re going to sue you.

            Then editorships. I was the editor of two major journals. Again, no due process, no editorial meeting, no courtesy call. No transition plan. Just, ‘you are terminated as editor-in-chief.’

            Then it kept going. I was stripped of every National Institutes of Health (NIH) committee that I’ve been on, some for decades. Every pharmaceutical company committee. Pharmaceutical (committees that) have nothing to do with vaccines. NIH committees that have nothing to do with Covid.

            And it just kept going, and going, and going. Recently, two weeks ago, I got a letter from a French company, being stripped of chairmanship of two day-safety monitoring boards, which I’ve been on for, you know, this is a long-term investment.

            These acts take effort. They’re expensive for the people doing them because they have to find people to replace me. They have to re-contract. This is not a minor thing. People doing this are hurting themselves. They’re not benefitting at all. I probably have two dozen of these. In my book, ‘Courage to Face Covid-19', it tells the story that I’m telling you today, and there’s a chapter in there called “The Stripping”. And it almost has this religious analogy, right. This stripping. Of just how I’m being stripped. Now it’s not painful. I’m not in any pain. It’s humiliating. It’s a public thing. But it’s really come to a head last year.

Kangaroo Court

 In May, I get a letter from the American Board of Internal Medicine (ABIM), which certifies doctors as internists and cardiologists and other specialists. And the American Board of Internal Medicine said, you have violated our code of Covid misinformation policy.  Turns out that in September of 2021, the ABIM enacted a Covid misinformation policy. But they didn’t tell doctors what they consider misinformation. They didn’t give us teaching modules, talking points, or anything.  And we do lots of teaching modules, we do lots of compliance, we sign off on all this stuff. Nothing. So they come up with this policy in September of 2021. They went back in time to March 2021 and said, aha, what you said at the Texas Senate is misinformation, we disagree with you. And here’s the reason why we disagree.

            So I do a rebuttal letter to them. They go into deliberation, they have this committee of people who don’t have any experience with Covid, no experience of testifying in any public setting, really kind of junior group of doctors, and they come out of this meeting and convict me of Covid misinformation. And now have said that I have been recommended to be stripped of my internal medicine and cardiology reports. Stripped. I did three years of medicine in residency at University of Washington. I did three years of cardiology fellowship at William Beaumont hospital. I have passed all the exams. Did very well. I finished you know, number one clinically in my class in medical school. I have a perfect, flawless track record as a clinician. The only thing this board should care about is, is somebody competent as a specialist, and as an internist. That’s the only thing: are they in good stead, did they do a residency and a fellowship.

            Now, I’ve had to lawyer up and do this very arduous appeal process to the same kangaroo court that’s convicted me of misinformation, which isn’t provable or not provable. And all my statements as I’ve made, I’ve cited and referenced, I’m as tight with the data as anyone out there. So I’m on the precipice now of being de-certified. I may be the first public figure to be de-certified … that is, stripped of residency and fellowship… for no clinical reason. I won’t be able to contract with insurance companies anymore, so I won’t be able to hold hospital privileges anymore. So, my whole career begins to dissolve. So that by the time the American Board of Internal Medicine announces that I’ve been convicted of Covid misinformation, within a few weeks I’m called into an office with my current practice at the same medical centre, a very good private practice, two years of stellar track record, building patients and referrals, all this success, and I’m told that I’m fired, for no reason. So I go home that night and tell my wife I’ve been fired …for no reason.

Doctors: inner darkness and palpable fear.

            Now the doctors who fired me, they were my friends. One guy I went to medical school (with). They literally were looking at the table, they wouldn’t look me in the eye. (Head down, mumbles in imitation) “Um, you’re fired, uh…” They just seemed so uncomfortable. No vitriol. They weren’t mad at me. They had some type of darkness in them. They were almost trembling, and sweating. They were overcome with fear. Fear is in their bodies. The body language of fear, I’ve learned to recognise it. (repeats) I’ve learned to recognise it.

            I’ve challenged any doctor in America, if they think it’s right, to deny people treatment, or if they think it’s right to push these vaccines, to just come and talk to me, just look me in the eyes. Not a single one. I can’t get a bad e-mail. I can’t even get a bad text message from one of these doctors. None. It became so crazy that somebody in our group who’s got a lot of money has offered millions of dollars: ‘If anyone would just come up and talk to Dr McCullough, I’ll pay you a million dollars.’ No one will do it. (repeats) No one will do it. And when I see people, I see people in the hallway, I still have a few more clinic sessions before I am out of my current position, the doctors just look at the ground. They just look at the ground. They cannot look me in the eye. The nurses know what’s going on. They know what’s going on. But the doctors cannot look at me in the eye. It is a sign of incredible burden that they must have. I’ve come to conclude; they must have the presence of Satan within them.

A spiritual battle

            Nobody is chattering. If doctors really knew that not treating patients was immoral, and unethical, if they really knew that these vaccines were killing patients, and they still did it anyway, they couldn’t handle the guilt. They would be chattering. There’s no chatter. The doctors took the vaccine themselves. And they still are taking them. So doctors are divided. There’s a million doctors out there. There’s maybe 500 to a thousand who vociferously said they’re not taking the vaccine. Five hundred to a thousand. And then there’s about a hundred thousand that didn’t take the vaccine and don’t think it’s safe, but they won’t say it. And there’s probably about 900,000 who took it. I’ve seen one estimate where its 96% of doctors have taken the vaccine.

            So the doctors are in on this completely. But I do believe it is clearly a spiritual battle. I think what we’re seeing are acts of Satan.

Eerie silence and disregard

            You know this, with the next young athlete who dies, of which now you are seeing reports every day. And the report will show some wonderful young person, they’re perfectly healthy, and they’ve just died, on the sporting field, or they’ve died in the locker room. And there is some type of report like, ‘It was good to know them while they were here, and we need to appreciate people.’ Some type of language. But then never any cause of what’s happened, and never really any reaction from the parents. And then it’s gone. It is gone. The parents don’t speak out. There is never a mention of whether- or- not they took a vaccine. There’s never a mention of whether- or- not they had Covid. There’s never a mention of anything. It’s as if, they are just, disappearing. Just, like a flicker of light, and it’s gone.

Chilling censorship

            Person, after person …probably today while I am speaking there’ll be a few more. And every time there’s never any mention. Never any mention. And actually, if they have taken the vaccine in the past, quickly Google and all the search engines change where you can’t find it. Somebody has to be really skilful (in locating online data) to say, ‘Oh, look, they took the vaccine.’

            Irene Cara, the woman who sings the ‘Flash- dance’ song, it happened to her recently. And she died, and the write up said, ‘She died, and we don’t know what happened.’ Somebody dug it up somewhere and she just took the vaccine on her birthday, and she had tweeted that out and what have you. It was already scrubbed from Twitter. But someone had found it. Each time, each time.

Alarming Realisation

    So, when Damian Hamlin, the Buffalo Bills (footballer), has a cardiac arrest   out on the field, within 24 hours they had raced a film crew out to me. I was in Colorado and they wanted my commentary. And I had listened for 24 hours to commentary. Media person after media person, current player, former player, doctors --- not a single person would mention the possibility of vaccine-induced myocarditis and sudden death. It was a straight line. The straight line was, the US government paid the NFL (National Football League) money in 2021 to push the vaccines to the Covid Community Corps (of “trusted” government “messengers” pushing the jabs). The NFL was trying to decide what to do. The FDA came out and said ‘The vaccines cause myocarditis.’ That means athletes cannot have myocarditis and be on the field, athletes really can’t take the vaccine. Then the NFL in the mid-summer of 2021 says, ‘vaccine mandate.’ And then for eight months the players were mandated to take the vaccine. NFL proudly says 95% of players took the vaccine. I told (Fox News hosts) Tucker Carlson a week ago, I told Laura Ingraham this week, it is a straight line. It is a straight line. Any doctor who is not considering the vaccine (as the cause)… is in some form of a trance, some form of a fog, if they’re genuinely not considering the vaccine.

I think there’s a psychological phenomenon going on. I think when people have this (shot) inside their body, they cannot possibly imagine that the same thing could happen to them. The reason why the players look so nauseated, and all the commentators looked pale, is so many of them were thinking, ‘Oh ---, could I be next?’. That’s what they were thinking.’ Could I be next? Could I be next?

Instrument of the devil.

The vaccine, and everything it is, and how it’s been utilised, could be conceptualised, as an instrument of the devil. It meets all the characteristics for such an instrument.

Divides people. Makes people sick. Makes people question themselves. Removes joy. Removes clarity. Creates more confusion, more self doubt.

All in a single shot. And you know, it could be an instrument of the devil if it was saline, if it was placebo, it could still be an instrument of the devil. I think Covid-19 the illness, was an instrument of the devil.

Shuts down houses of worship, but leaves open the liquor stores and the striptease joints, right. Scares our seniors. Takes away our seniors. Takes away their last Christmas. Their last birthday.

Divides families.

Creates endless amounts of fear and suffering.

Hellish hospitals: explosion of pure evil.

And then the hospitalisation. I think the hospitalisation itself, represents evil. Hospitals themselves now, instead of being places to get well and recover, now are viewed as death traps. And it is true. And the horrors that have gone on inside hospitals, are unspeakable, when it comes to Covid. And there’s vignette after vignette, class section lawsuit after class section lawsuit … it’s inexplicable.

We’re three years into it, (and) not a single hospital in America has tried to improve patient care for Covid. Not a single hospital in Michigan claims to be any good at treating Covid. There are no comparative statistics in Michigan. Nobody has any outpatient protocols at any one of the major universities in Michigan to even treat Covid, let alone handle a vaccine injury. Michigan is a great place for science and medicine, Michigan is completely devoid of any excellence or bravado in Covid-19. Zero. It’s . . . beyond . . . any conception. The only thing that could keep University of Michigan down . . . University of Michigan is lower than the lousiest hospital in India right now, when it comes to innovation and Covid . . . the only thing that could keep University of Michigan down, is some type of prevailing force, that is pure evil. That is the only thing that explains it.       

Larger prevailing ideology

            You can’t get in the minds of thousands and thousands of people, without having some type of explanation. The same thing is true for the Karolinska Institute in Sweden. And the same thing is true for the  best hospitals in Japan. It’s worldwide (repeats) It’s worldwide. When Covid-19 hit, it came in the minds of people to hurt other people in the context of Covid. It came in the minds of people to do nothing, for people with Covid. And to impede anybody who was trying to help them. And now the vaccines, it’s come into the mind that no matter how bad they are, or how ineffective they are, they are going to be forced on people with no exception.

            It’s in the minds of people. All over the world simultaneously. And they’re thinking the same way. (My mind has been) opened up to what’s really going on. A larger prevailing … ideology … that because it’s so synchronised, and is so worldwide, it can’t be due to Twitter. It can’t be due to some Memo that was sent. It’s too big. (repeats) It’s too big.

Personal sacrifice

            So my personal journey and summary, is that I think through all this, I don’t feel worthy, but I think I’ve been called. (Applause) And I think my  mission, my instructions, are … to deliver a message. To deliver a message. And, as in so many examples in the Bible, being called means sacrifice. The two go together And I can’t tell you how many people have come up to me, billionaires that come up to me, ‘Oh, I want to get a picture with you, I want to meet you, and listen, I really like what you’re doing.’ I said, ‘Listen, you’re a billionaire. Do you know what good you can do for the world.’ And he said, (whispers) ‘Well, I want to stay behind the scenes.’

            Everybody in this great controversy that we’re in right now, doesn’t want to lose anything. They want a good outcome. But they want no personal loss or injury whatsoever. I don’t think it’s going to work that way. Look what (conference speaker) Dr Vine presented. There was no one who got out of that Ukrainian (Holodomor)  catastrophe unscathed. Nobody. Everyone paid a price. I think it’s going to get much worse, in the States. It’s going to get much worse. Not a single one of you is going to come out of this, without making a sacrifice.

            The only thing I can tell you, I can thank God right now, the sacrifices are with no pain, no physical pain, no suffering. I sleep very well at night. We are very well taken care of as a group of people. And I can tell you right now, I wouldn’t do anything any differently. Nothing. (Applause) It’s the most important work we can do. The most important thing. Looking back on it now, now I understand God was preparing me for this. The entire time, God was preparing my wife to do this. God was preparing my family, was preparing you. God was preparing us for times such as this. 

                          Thank you Dr Peter McCullough. Ed.

Tuesday 7 November 2023

'Suora Marianna' by Francesca Alexander


                                  ‘Suora Marianna’

Translated from the Italian by Francesca Alexander


Little children, will you listen to a simple tale of mine,

That I learned at San Marcello, in the Tuscan Apennine,

From an aged, saintly woman, gone to heaven long ago?

It has helped me on my journey, and as yet you cannot know

Half the wisdom stored within it, nor the comfort it can give;

But still, try and not forget it! You will need it if you live,

And some day, when life is waning and your hands begin to tire,

You will think of Marianna, and her vision by the fire.


In a convent, old and quiet, near a little country town,

On a chestnut-shaded hillside, to the river sloping down,

Dwelt a few of those good sisters who go out among the poor,

Who must labour late and early, and much weariness endure.

And the one who did in patience and in all good works excel,

Was the Sister Marianna, she whose story now I tell.


She was ever kind and willing, for each heavy task prepared:

No one ever thought to spare her, and herself she never spared.

All unpraised and all unnoticed, bearing burdens not her own,

Yet she lived as rich and happy as a queen upon her throne!


She was rich, though few would think it; for God gave her grace to choose,

Not the world’s deceitful riches, but the wealth one cannot lose.

There are many heap up treasure, but it is not every one

Who will take his treasure with him when his earthly life is done.


Was she beautiful? I know not.  She had eyes of peaceful light,

And her face looked sweet and blooming in its frame of linen white.

To the sick and heavy-hearted she was pleasant to behold,

And she seemed a heavenly vision to the feeble and the old.


She was happy when she wandered up the wandering mountain road,

Bearing food and warmth and blessing to some desolate abode,

Though the ice-cold winds were blowing, and her woman’s strength was tried;

For she knew who walked there with her, in her heart and by her side.


She was happy - oh, so happy! -in her little whitewashed cell,

Looking out among the branches, where they gave her leave to dwell,

In her scanty hours of leisure; for there, looking from the wall,

Were the dear and holy faces that she loved the best of all.


‘T was an old and faded picture, poorly painted at the best,

Of Our Lord, the Holy Infant, in His Mother’s arms at rest.

But her faith and loving fancy had a glory to it lent,

And the faces that she saw there were not what the artist meant.


And the wooden shelf before it she would often-times adorn

With the buttercup and bluebell, and the wild rose from the thorn,

Which she gathered, when returning, while the morning dew was bright,

From some home, remote and lonely, where she watched the sick by night.


So her life was full of sunshine, for in toiling for the Lord

She had found the hidden sweetness that in common things lies stored:

He has strewn the earth with flowers, and each eye their brightness sees;

But He filled their cups with honey, for His humble working bees.


But there came a time--poor sister--when her rosy cheek grew pale,

And her eyes, with all their sunlight, seemed to smile as through a veil;

And her step was weak and heavy, as she trod the steep ascent,

Where through weeks of wintry weather to her loving work she went.


‘T was a footpath, lone and narrow, winding up among the trees,

And ‘t was hard to trace in winter, when the slippery ground would freeze,

And the snow fall thick above it, hiding every sight and mark;

But she went that way so often she could climb it in the dark!


‘T was to nurse a poor young mother, by fierce malady assailed,

That she made the daily journey, and she never once had failed.

Now the short sharp days were over, and the spring had just begun;

Every morn the light came sooner, and more strength was in the sun.


All around the grass was springing, and its tender verdure spread,

Mid the empty burrs of chestnuts, and the old leaves, brown and dead,

Low and small, but creeping, creeping till it almost touched the edge

Of the daily lessening snowdrifts, under rock or thorny hedge.

 From the wreck of last year’s autumn, life awakened strong and new,

And the buds were crowding upward, though as yet the flowers were few.


Many nights had she been watching, and with little rest by day,

For her heart was in the chamber where that helpless woman lay;

There the flame of life she cherished, when it almost ceased to burn,

Praying God to help and keep them till the husband should return.


‘T was the old and common story, such as all of us can hear,

If we care to, in the mountains, every day throughout the year!

She who languished, weak and wasting, in the garret chamber there,

Had been once as strong and happy as the wild birds in the air.


She had been a country beauty, for the boys to serenade;

And the poets sang about her, in the simple rhymes they made,

And with glowing words compared her to the lilies as they grew,

Or to stars, or budding roses, as their manner is to do.


Then the man who played at weddings with his ancient violin,

With his sad, impassioned singing, had contrived her heart to win;

And one brilliant April morning he had brought her home, a bride,

To his farm and low-built cottage on the mountain’s terraced side.


‘T was a poor, rough home to look at, and from neighbours far away,

But with love and health and music there was much to make it gay.

They were happy, careless people, and they thought not to complain,

Though the door were cracked and broken, or the roof let in the rain:

They could pile the fire with branches, while the winter storms swept by;

For the rest, their life was mostly out beneath the open sky.


Time had come, and brought its changes, sunshine first, and then the shade,

Frost untimely, chestnuts blighted.  Sickness came, and debts were made;

Fields were sold, alas, to pay them; yet their troubles did not cease,

And the poor man’s heart was troubled thus to see his land decrease!


Fields were gone, and bread was wanting, for there now were children small;

Much he loved them, much he laboured ---but he could not feed them all.

So he left them, heavy hearted, and his fortune went to try

In the low Maremma country, where men gain or where they die,

With its soft and treacherous beauty, with its fever-laden air;

But as yet the fever spared him, and they hoped it yet would spare.


‘T was a long and cruel winter in the home he left behind:

Lonely felt the house without him, and the young wife moped and pined:

Still her children’s love sustained her, till this sickness laid her low;

When good Sister Marianna came to nurse her, as you know.


Week on week had hope been waning, as more feeble still she grew:

Marianna tried, but vainly, every simple cure she knew.

Then the doctor gave up hoping, and his long attendance ceased:

“I can do no more,” he told her; “you had better call the priest.

To her husband I have written; he will have the news today:

If he cares again to see her, he had best be on his way!”

Now the priest has done his office; at the open door he stands,

And he says to Marianna: “I can leave her in your hands,

I have other work that calls me; if tonight she chance to die,

You can say the prayers, good sister, for her soul as well as I.”


So they left her, all unaided, in the house forlorn and sad,

Still to watch and think and labour with what failing strength she had.

There was none to share her burden, none to speak to, none to see --

Save a helpful boy of seven, and a restless one of three,

And their little dark-eyed sister (she was five, and came between),

And a baby, born that winter, which the father had not seen.


Two days more!  Her friend lay sleeping, and she watched beside the bed:

In her arms she rocked the baby, while the Latin prayers she said,

Prayers to help a soul departing -- yet she never quite despaired!

Might not yet the Lord have pity, and that mother’s life be spared?


‘T was so hard to see her going --- and such a mother, kind and dear!

There was ne’er another like her in the country, far or near!

(So thought Sister Marianna.)  Yet to murmur were a sin.

But her tears kept rising, rising, though she tried to hold them in,

Till one fell and lay there shining, on the head that she caressed,

Small and pretty, dark and downy, lying warm against her breast.


She was silent; something moved her that had neither place nor part

In the grave and stately cadence of the prayers she knew by heart.

Then she spoke, with eyes dilated, with her soul in every word,

As to one she saw before her--- “Thou hast been a child, my Lord!


Thou hast lain as small and speechless as this infant on my knees;

Thou hast stretched toward Thy Mother little helpless hands like these:

Thou hast known the wants of children, then---Oh listen to my plea,

For one moment, Lord, remember what Thy Mother was to Thee!


Think, when all was dark around Thee, how her love did Thee enfold.

How she tended, how she watched Thee; how she wrapped Thee from the cold!

How her gentle heart was beating, on that night of tears and strife,

When the cruel guards pursued Thee, when King Herod sought Thy life!

How her arms enclosed and hid Thee, through that midnight journey wild!

Oh, for love of Thine own Mother, save the mother of this child!”


Now she paused and waited breathless; for she seemed to know and feel

That the Lord was there and listened to her passionate appeal.

Then she bowed her head, all trembling; but a light was in her eye,

For her soul had heard the answer: that young mother would not die!


Yes, the prayer of faith had saved her! And a change began that day:

When she woke her breath was easy, and the pain had passed away.

So the day that dawned so sadly had a bright and hopeful close,

And a solemn, sweet thanksgiving from the sister’s heart arose.


Now the night had closed around them, and a lonesome night it seemed!

For the sky was black and starless, and for hours the rain had streamed:

And the wind and rain together made a wild and mournful din,

As they beat on door and window, madly struggling to come in.


Marianna, faint and weary with the strain of many days,

On the broad stone hearth was kneeling, while she set the fire ablaze,

For the poor lone soul she cared for would, ere morning, need to eat.

“Now, God help me,” said the sister, “this night’s labour to complete!”


‘T was a meal she knew would please her, which she lovingly prepared,

Of that best and chosen portion, from the convent table spared,

Which she brought, as was her habit, with much other needed store,

In the worn old willow basket, standing near her on the floor.


On her work was much depending, so she planned to do her best;

And she set the earthen pitcher on the coals as in a nest,

With the embers laid around it; then she thought again, and cast

On the pile a few gray ashes, that it might not boil too fast.


But the touch of sleep was on her, she was dreaming while she planned,

And the wooden spoon kept falling from her limp and listless hand.

Then she roused her, struggling bravely with this languor, which she viewed

As a snare, a sore temptation, to be fought with and subdued.


But another fear assailed her -- what if she should faint or fall?

And tonight the storm-swept cottage seems so far away from all!

How the fitful wind is moaning! And between the gusts that blow,

She can hear the torrent roaring, in the deep ravine below.


And her head is aching strangely, as it never did before:

“Good Lord, help me!” she is saying: “this can last but little more!

O my blessed Lord and Master, only help me through the night--

Only keep my eyes from closing till they see the morning light!


For that mother and that baby do so weak and helpless lie,

And with only me to serve them, -- if I leave them, they may die!

She is better -- yes I know it, but a touch may turn the scale.

I can send for help tomorrow, but tonight I must not fail!”


‘T was in vain; for sleep had conquered, and the words she tried to say

First became a drowsy murmur, then grew faint and died away.

And she slept as sleep the weary, heedless how the night went on,

With her pitcher all untended, with her labour all undone;

On the wall her head reclining, in the chimney’s empty space,

While the firelight flared and flickered on her pale and peaceful face.


Was her humble prayer unanswered? Oh, the Lord has many a way

That His children little think of, to send answers when they pray!

It was long she sat there sleeping --- do you think her work was spoiled?

No, the fir-wood fire kept burning, and the pitcher gently boiled:

Ne’er a taint of smoke had touched it, nor one precious drop had been spilt;

When she moved and looked around her, with a sudden sense of guilt.


But her eyes, when first they opened, saw a vision, strange and sweet,

For a little Child was standing in the hearth-stone at her feet.

And He seemed no earthly infant, for His robe was like the snow,

And a glory shone about Him that was not the firelight glow.


And Himself her work was doing! For He kept the fire alive,

And He watched the earthen pitcher, that no danger might arrive

To the simple meal, now ready, with the coals around it piled.

Then He turned His face toward her, and she knew the Holy Child.


‘T was her Lord who stood before her! And she did not shrink nor start ---

There was more of joy than wonder in her all-believing heart.

When her willing hands were weary, when her patient eyes were closed,

He had finished all she failed in; He had watched while she reposed.


Do you ask of His appearance? Human words are weak and cold;

‘T is enough to say she knew Him ---that is all she ever told.

Yes, as you and I will know Him when that happy day shall come,

When, if we on earth have loved Him, He will bid us welcome home!


But with that one look He left her, and the vision all had passed,

(Though the peace it left within her to her dying hour would last!)

Storm had ceased, and wind was silent, there was no more sound of rain,

And the morning star was shining, through the window’s broken pane.


Later, when the sun was rising, Marianna looked to see,

O’er the stretch of rain-washed country, what the day was like to be,

While the door she softly opened, letting in the morning breeze,

As it shook the drops by thousands from the wet and shining trees.


And she saw the sky like crystal, for the clouds had rolled away,

Though they lay along the valleys, in their folds of misty grey,

Or to mountain sides were clinging, tattered relics of the storm.

And among the trees below her she could see a moving form,

‘T was the husband home returning, yes thank God! He came at last:

There was no one else would hasten up that mountain road so fast.


Now the drooping boughs concealed him, now he came in sight again;

All night long had he been walking in the darkness, in the rain;

Through the miles of ghostly forest, through the villages asleep,

He had borne his burden bravely, till he reached that hillside steep.

And as yet he seemed not weary, for his springing step was light,

But his face looked worn and haggard with the anguish of the night.


Now his limbs began to tremble, and he walked with laboured breath,

For he saw his home before him, should he find there life or death?

How his heart grew faint within him as he neared the wished-for place!

One step more, his feet had gained it, they were standing face to face.

“God has helped us!” was her answer to the question in his eyes;

And her smile of comfort told him that the danger had gone by.


It was morning now, fair morning! and the broken sunlight fell

Through the boughs that crossed above her, where the buds began to swell,

As down the sloping pathway, that her feet so oft had pressed,

Went the Sister Marianna to her convent home to rest.


It was spring that breathed around her, for the winter strove no more,

And the snowdrifts all had vanished with the rain the night before.

Now a bee would flit beside her, as she lightly moved along;

Or a bird among the branches tried a few low notes of song.


But her heart had music sweeter than the bird-notes in her ears!

She was leaving joy behind her in that home of many tears:

Hope was there, and health returning; there were happy voice and smile,

For the father at his coming had brought plenty for a while.


And she knew with whom she left them, for herself His care had proved,

When her mortal eyes were opened, and she saw the face she loved,

On that night of storm and trouble, when to help her He had come,

As He helped His own dear Mother in their humble earthly home.


As she went the day grew warmer; sweeter came the wild bird’s call;

Then, what made her start and linger? ‘T was a perfume, that was all:

Faint, but yet enough to tell her that the violets were in bloom;

And she turned aside to seek them, for that picture in her room.


Ack. ‘The Hidden Servants and other very old stories’

--- told over again by Francesca Alexander.

(Published by David Nutt, at the sign of the Phoenix, Long Acre, London.1911.)



Francesca Alexander was the daughter of an American artist and lived most of her life in Italy. A deeply religious woman, Protestant by upbringing, she had this to say about her work, “With regard to this present collection of ballads, I can tell its history in a few words. When I was a young girl many old and curious books fell into my hands and became my favourite reading (next to the Bible, and perhaps, the Divina Commedia), as I found in them the strong faith and simple modes of thought which were what I liked and wanted. Afterwards in my constant intercourse with the country people, and especially with old people, whom I always loved, I heard a great many legends and traditions, often beautiful, often instructive, and which, as far as I knew, had never been written down.” As she grew older Francesca gradually lost her sight, limiting her writing opportunities, but persuading her to adopt poetry in translating these many works, which she believed made the stories ‘vivid and comprehensible’ particularly for children, but also for older people. In her letter Francesca, who for most of her life worked as an artist, commented that “when the Lord took from me one faculty, He gave me another, which in no way is impossible. And I think of the beautiful Italian proverb: ‘When God shuts a door He opens a window.’ “

Cardinal Manning, when writing to Mr Ruskin in 1883 to thank him for a copy of Francesca’s ‘Story of Ida’, writes :---“It is simply beautiful, like the Floretti di San Francesco.  Such flowers can grow in one soil alone.  They can be found only in the Garden of Faith, over which the world of light hangs visibly, and is more intensely seen by the poor and the pure in heart than by the rich, or the learned, or the men of culture.”














'Hero' of our Times, one of many' - history will honour you.

                                                   Dr Peter McCullough                When the full and raw history of the Covid nightmare...