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The Reptiles Could Be Watching You
By Jess Mxxxxx
Just after the Gulf War I was at my home, then in London, when the phone
rang and a Canadian fishing guide - who I had never heard of - asked if
I had one of the fishing reels named after his grandfather. I did indeed
have one in my collection, but it was not for sale. However he continued
to tell me how desperate he was to buy it and so I quoted him what I
thought was a high price. Not having the money to be able to purchase
it, he then offered to guide me for a week on British Columbia's Dean
River in exchange for the reel.
I had fished the Dean many years previously and a wondrous river and
superbly powerful place it is too, with forested mountains rising from
the often green, glacial river and Grizzly and Black Bears all over the
place. Wild and powerful is how I would describe it and the Steelhead
that run the Dean are some of the finest British Columbia has to offer.
Well I was going to visit a friend in Vancouver anyway and so I agreed
to the guide's proposition.
So in time there we were camped in single tents on the banks of the
Dean. We had flown in from Bella Coola to the tiny gravel airstrip and
then had a drive over a really rough track up to where we had decided to
camp and began to fish immediately.
On the second day the guide said to me, "I want you to meet Dick
Cheney." I was taken aback and looked at him for an explanation. "You
know, Dick Cheney, the ex-U.S. Secretary of Defense." Well I of
course knew who Cheney was, but we were miles into the wilderness of
British Columbia in amongst the bears, so what the hell was this guy on
about? "He's coming in as we go out and I want you to meet him." That
was all that was said, I just shrugged and began to wonder whether
the guide had a full set of marbles. We continued fishing and what with
all the bear activity and releasing spectacular Steelhead back into the
Dean, the Cheney proposition completely left my mind. So the week ended
and we arrived back at the gravel airstrip to find a light plane being
unloaded by a couple of guys and another fellow standing to one side,
dressed in a sort of overcoat, not the type of thing you go into the
wilderness of British Columbia wearing. This man made a beeline for my
guide and they turned away from me and engaged in a seemingly deeply
serious and somewhat animated discussion.
Having been brought up to have manners I moved off two or three meters
and stood patiently waiting until they had finished. Meanwhile the two
who were unloading the plane were not happy about my doing this and one
in particular kept eyeing me until eventually he stopped doing what he
was doing and stood and looked at me. I just smiled, feeling a little
awkward and also feeling that in a moment he was going to start
something. His attitude was hostile and I was beginning to feel that
something was really wrong when my guide and the other man turned to me.
"Oh, and this is Jess Miller from London. Jess Miller, Dick Cheney."
I held out my hand as it dawned on me that it was Cheney and said,
"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Cheney. You'll be pleased to hear that I've
left you some Steelhead in the river because that's what we Englishmen
like to do for our fellow human beings." I don't know why I said it, it
just came out, but I'm always joking when I'm fishing, that's the way I
am.
Cheney was facing me, but never looked me in the eyes, instead he looked
steadfastly at my solar plexus, grunted at my remark and then looked at
the ground at our feet. A few seconds later he walked over to his two
companions and that was my one and only meeting with Dick Cheney ended
and I must say I was glad that it was. I had felt awkward, uncomfortable
and uneasy around him. I put it out of my mind and we flew out back to
Bella Coola.
It stayed out of my mind for the years afterwards as my life turned into
a nightmarish procession of evil people ripping me off and gradually my
finances waned to almost nothing. I was ill quite a lot and homeopathy
helped me greatly. Finally I was poisoned in a murder attempt and the
people made off owing me a large amount of money, which I will never see
again. I survived full blown clinical depression, brought on by the
arsenic based biological agent I had been administered, much to my
toxicologist's amazement, but at least I am alive and happily starting
out again from a zero financial base.
Then, around June 1999, I was told about David Icke and I got hold of
some of his books and read them. I had only heard about him previously
around 1990 when he had undergone some sort of revelation and the
British Establishment took him apart on television, about which I
remember feeling uncomfortable at the time. Since then I had heard
nothing more of him. I dropped The Biggest Secret three times whilst
reading it and I'm not that clumsy. When Cheney was mentioned (in a dark
light) it all came flooding back to me and I began to think more and
more about what had happened and I remembered a couple of astonishing
things.
When we had been fishing the Dean the guide had told me that when Saddam
Hussein invaded Kuwait, Cheney and his two Navy SEALS had been on the
Dean. Cheney had run the war right from the Dean using a briefcase
satellite communication system whilst they flew him out to Bella Coola,
where a US fighter was waiting to fly him into Washington.
It also dawned on me, with a sickening shock that made me reexamine
everything in even more detail, that when Saddam went into Kuwait and
Cheney was on the Dean, I had been skiing at Kelowna in the interior of
British Columbia, just a few hundred miles from the Dean, and I had
injured my back and had sat and watched the first six days of the war on
CNN.
I began to realize that I had been close to Cheney at that time as well
and that the guide had inveigled me back to the Dean specifically to
meet Cheney. But why? Why me, a total no nobody? I decided to try and
meet David Icke and ask him.
My first attempt was on a Cape Talk radio program (South Africa) that
was a disaster, but which I now realize completely benefited David Icke
by getting people who were sitting on the fence about his views about
our world to come down on his side. I called into the program and put
the Cheney meeting to him, but the idiot interviewer who was doing her
best to wreck his getting his message out, never let him reply, which
not only annoyed me but a lot of other people, thus persuading them to
Icke's cause.
As I am not easily stopped from doing things that I set my mind on I
went to David Icke's book signing at the Cape Town Waterfront, where I
managed to sit and talk to him for some ten minutes. He seemed affable
and was interested as soon as I mentioned Cheney. When I told him Cheney
had been on the Dean a previous time, when Saddam went into Kuwait, he
immediately said to me,
"Cheney must go to this Dean River to get something, there is some power
there that he needs. Draw me a map of where it is and describe it to
me."
I did so and described the awesome mountains rising from the river,
creating a valley that makes its own weather. Then I asked the question
he had been unable to answer on the radio program,
My question was, "David, can a Reptilian, which you might call a full
Reptilian bloodline, by touching a real human being (which I believe I
am) somehow alter their magnetic/electrical output, which we call our
aura, and in some way make the person easily found and more accessible
to lesser bloodlines who wish to do them harm"?
"Of course they can, they have the ancient knowledge that they've
stopped the rest of us from having," was his immediate reply.
"So that's probably how all these evil people were able to locate me and
take me right down." I said to myself. "But why?"
Some eighteen months ago the same guide suddenly tried to get in touch
with me again, but was blocked by a friend of mine. I wonder what he
wanted, because at that time I was almost exiting this world via the
depths of clinical depression.
I have recently met someone who became ill with poisoning after shaking
hands with Bill Clinton and Al Gore. This person has also told me that
Kerry Packer, the Australian media magnate, is a Reptilian. Do you have
any input on this?
Aftermath:
During clinical depression I was suffering from pain in my solar plexus.
Dreadful pain it was and it would not lessen. I lost a huge amount of
weight and couldn't sleep for months. I was cured in part by a genius
Chakra healer who, with no prior knowledge, identified my
chest/emotional Chakra as 'missing' and healed me so that today I am
complete once more.
Cheney stared at that Chakra and then at the ground, as if concentrating
his mind on something.
 
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