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Full Version: The problem of evidence
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There was a man, a fine, dignified, man who I interviewed in New Mexico more than a decade ago.

A man who had spent three decades in US Military Intelligence.

This much I was able to verify.

He showed me the burns on his body from exposure to chemical weapons testing by his own Army.

This much I was able to verify.

He and his wife cried as they told me about the many miscarriages she suffered as a result of the things that had been done to her husband.

This claim had two witnesses, but no death certificates.

The man had worked at Los Alamos and Fort Bliss. He showed me photos of malformed human foetuses in pickling jars in a laboratory setting.

He said these were some of his dead children.

This much I saw, but was unable to prove.

This fine, dignified, man told me stories about his years in the jungles of South America.

This much I was able to verify.

The secret compound he had supplied in the jungle.

With food.

With medical supplies.

With orphans and street children he had abducted or bought, for use in deep black experiments.

This much I was unable to prove.

He told me of bringing children to New Mexico on a military flight, and transporting them to a testing ground.

This much I was unable to prove.

He described the viewing bunker, the white coats, the glasses to prevent the flash scarring his eyeballs.

This fine, dignified, man wept as he described collecting tiny bodies in a radiation suit.

I can verify that his soul was broken.
Beautifully argued.
Jan, I don't know what to say. But I recognise this truth from my own experiences too.