Doctor Awoke to the Medical-Industrial Complex

Doctor Awoke to the Medical-Industrial Complex

Dr. Emanuel Garcia

I suppose it must be the masochist in me, but for some reason or other — boredom perhaps with the manifold manifestations of deception, dissonance, media manipulation of the public in service of sweetly profitable agendas — I decided to tune into the ‘face of science’, aka, Anthony Fauci, as he was being questioned by the United States Congress.

Readers of RFK Jr’s masterwork on this bureaucratic creature, 

The Real Anthony Fauci, would hardly be surprised by the evasive, dishonest and slimy responses proffered by the former head of NIAID who oversaw the vast oppressive and distinctively UN-scientific program foisted upon us all — a program that included falsehood and harm beyond a novelist’s imagination — at least beyond this novelist’s imagination,

I should say — with masks, lockdowns, suppression of appropriate treatment, unnecessary fear-mongering, promises about a vaccine which, by any other word would still never be a vaccine, unlike our proverbial Shakespearean rose, and everything else, about which I have written myself into a dull listless ennui, notwithstanding the immensity of harm that has occurred as a result. Harm to individuals, businesses, society as a whole, in the form of financial and physical damage, including financial and physical death, as well as harm to the public’s psyche.

After all, being subjected to fear fear fear fear and lies lies lies in the midst of chaos chaos chaos for years, as we have been, does take a toll.

I often upbraid my colleagues for not giving the purely emotional and psychological aspect of the psyops its due, focused as they tend to be on the deleterious effects of spike proteins and nanoparticles and graphene and electromagnetic radiation, which are certainly to be considered, but which are certainly not the entire megillah.

Remember: whoever organized this plague upon global humanity managed to persuade a huge majority into accepting its lethal absurdities. And they managed to convince a sizeable portion too that we who questioned, thought, debated and discussed and scrutinized the extremities perpetrated upon us, we who refused to subject ourselves to the untested unnecessary inoculation, should be treated as leprous vermin deserving of scorn, avoidance, discrimination and even quarantine.

One has to hand it to them: they crafted a very potent assault, full of cleverness, and even future-proofed against inquiry! One of my neighbors, for example, has had recurrent blood clots and a pulmonary embolism and has been hospitalized at least four times in the past six months. She has been jabbed thrice — as a schoolteacher here in New Zealand it was ‘no jab no job’ and she could ill afford to live without money, so she reasoned — and her doctors have astutely laid the blame for her coagulatory problems with — you guessed it — ‘long covid’.

Forgive my circuitous introductory aside, for what I meant to address was a phenomenon that startled me out of professional slumber some ten years ago in Florence, Italy.

At the time I attended a psychopharmacology conference in that magnificent city as part of my continuing educational requirements for public health psychiatry. The idea was to hone my understanding and prescribing skills and to learn about new research, and the like. (I will leave aside the vast and profound issue of pharmaceutical use in psychiatry for another day.)

As I dutifully sat through the presentations I was struck by several speakers, not so much by the research they described, but by the fact that they all seemed to have lucrative businesses on the side, businesses that grew directly out of the research they had been conducting which itself was paid for by the citizenry’s taxes.

To be clear: Dr. A or B or C ran a lab funded by taxpayer monies, and the discoveries — to be kind — that resulted from their taxpayer funded work were somehow claimed or patented by them so that they could start their own for-profit companies. I remember one person in particular who was making very good money as an entrepreneur purveying blood tests for mental disorders.

Again, I will leave aside the dubiety about these kinds of tests to focus on the purely meretricious aspect of these practices. It was enough to shock me out of my auditorium slumber. Where had I been all these years? What had I missed? Since when did public servants parley our money into their personal gains without raising eyebrows?

Listening to Fauci and hearing about the hundreds of millions of dollars in royalties ‘earned’ by the NIAID during the covid fiasco, I was reminded of my stay in Florence, a city that was once itself famous for bankers and scheming financial chicanery run by Renaissance potentates, and the jolt out of my personal professional cocoon.

Scientists, doctors, researchers and investigators have not merely been slogging away like dedicated professionals for the benefit of humanity — they’ve been getting an opportunity to exchange their drab lab coats for thousand-dollar suits and dresses and the promise of lots of lucre.

It helps to understand how we got to the terrible crossroads we find ourselves at now. Medicine is a mess, a corruption of principles and values has gutted its core, and the covidian after-effects are hardly over. Other phony pandemics always seem to be hovering on the horizon, like birds of flu-bearing prey — while similarly disease-laden monkeys beat about the underbrush at our feet.

And as for the psychology of it all, I am chagrined to realize that the people who most fully appreciate the non-somatic and purely psycho-social effects are the propagandists themselves. They’re the ones who, following in the footsteps of Bernays and his ilk, with ever greater manipulative refinement, have made Manchurian candidates of the masses, deliberately and with skillful precision.

Yes, we have a war against the imposition of poisons into our bodies; but we also have a war against the deviously brilliant persuasions against our minds. They’ve played upon us, as if we were unworthy things, though thankfully not everyone has succumbed to their Siren songs or tales of horror.

This is the primary piece of their stratagem, from which all else flows.

As I said to a friend the other day, I feel like I’m driving a car whose side and rear-view mirrors can’t be trusted, so that every time I need to change a lane I’ve got to swivel around. The histories and legacies handed down to us are largely lies. The once-authoritative media we depended upon have betrayed us in deepest consequence.

Nonetheless, we have ourselves and our new-found home-grown way of pursuing truth for truth’s sake, not for profit. And with a little bit of luck we yet may fashion a world where peace and good trump fear and war.

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