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9/11 See other 9/11 Articles Title: Airline whistleblower solves 9/11 The truth-seeking community – and the airline industry – are abuzz over Rebekah Roth’s new book Methodical Illusion. It’s poised to break into the top 1,000 worldwide, selling so fast that Amazon may even have tried to stop its rise to bestseller status by falsely claiming “sorry, out of stock.” We’ve seen this situation before…such as on September 8th, 2013, when the RT documentary 9/11 and Operation Gladio started to go viral and suddenly disappeared from search engines – as emails containing its url began falling into a big black hole in cyberspace. So what’s all the excitement about? Why would the people whose job is to “disable the purveyors of conspiracy theories” try to limit sales of a potboiler novel by a former stewardess? hqdefaultHint: It isn’t literary quality they’re afraid of. If you want a 9/11 truth novel by a literary genius, read Thomas Pynchon’s Bleeding Edge. Pynchon’s book has lots of great writing and a modest amount of 9/11 truth, packaged in such a way as not to offend the Tribe that dominates American media. But if you want a rough-hewn page-turner with more 9/11 truth than anything you’re likely to read this side of David Ray Griffin or Christopher Bollyn (or Veterans Today for that matter) check out Methodical Illusion. Roth boldly goes where no stewardess or novelist has gone before, pinning 9/11 squarely on the Israelis and their American assets, and providing a convincing explanation of how the planes were “hijacked,” by whom, where they went, and what happened to the passengers. Roth’s book has set off a stampede by her former colleagues in the aviation industry, who are rushing to provide details supporting her revelations. They are confirming the installation of FTS (Flight Termination System) equipment on the models “hijacked” on 9/11, which allowed those planes to be taken over remotely and flown from the ground. When FTS takes over a plane, it completely shuts down that plane’s communications with the outside world. That explains why not one of the four pilots on any of the 9/11 planes managed to flip a toggle switch and squawk the hijack code. Had the aircraft been hijacked in a normal manner, the pilots, who are trained to instantly squawk “hijack” in such an emergency, all would have done so. The failure of any of the 9/11 planes to squawk the “we are hijacked” message is absolute, conclusive proof that the official story of hijackings by Arabs armed with box cutters is false. According to the author’s hypothesis, the FTS-captured-and-silenced planes landed at a nearby Air Force base with gigantic hangars, which Roth identifies and a colleague who was there confirms happened, less than 20 minutes after takeoff. Once on the ground, selected flight attendants and passengers were guided (or forced) to place cell phone calls, during which they read from scripts prepared by the perpetrators. This scenario is very similar to one planned by the entire Joint Chiefs of Staff in 1962: the infamous Operation Northwoods. And it is entirely plausible. The main counter-argument – that the FAA tracked the two Boston aircraft from takeoff to crashes – has been disproven, since we now know that the 9/11 perpetrators were inserting false blips onto FAA controllers screens and thereby controlling what they saw. According to this scenario, the Twin Towers would have been hit by military aircraft and/or missiles, not passenger jets. Roth’s hypothesis is compelling, for several reasons. First, it explains why the perpetrators would invent such a ridiculously implausible scenario as “hijacked suicide attack planes fly all over the Eastern half of the USA before finally hitting their targets or being taken down by heroic passengers.” They needed this palpably absurd scheme to allow for time to covertly land the planes and stage the dramas via scripted cell phone calls. And the dramas – which would brainwash Americans into hating Israel’s Muslim enemies and killing them by the millions – were (alongside the horrific images broadcast from New York) the key part of the psy-op. Without the “cell phone calls,” nobody would have “known” what happened on those planes. Were there such a thing as al-Qaeda suicide hijackers, they would take over the plane immediately after takeoff and fly straight for their targets, thereby minimizing the possibility of things going wrong, such as FTS being activated by the good guys or NORAD interceptors showing up in around 10 minutes – the normal procedure every time a plane deviates significantly from course. But since there have been no successful hijackings in the USA since the 1970s, the whole idea that even one plane would be successfully hijacked on 9/11 is ludicrous. The preposterous claim that four planes with military-trained pilots were commandeered by 130 pound “muscle hijackers” with box cutters and flown with consummate skill and impossible speed by pilots who couldn’t even fly Cessnas is one of history’s most bizarre delusions. Roth’s hypothesis also explains why so many of the people who received phone calls from the “hijacked passengers” insisted that the calls came from the person’s cell phone, positively identified through caller ID. In 2001, cell phones did not work at altitude. The calls must have been made from the ground. Additionally, this scenario explains why many of the cell phone calls went on so long; were often placed to improbable recipients; had none of the correct background sounds; and were full of bizarre glitches revealing that they were scripted and/or coerced, not actual emergency calls from in-flight aircraft. Roth’s explanation sheds light on the role of Rabbi Dov Zakheim, a US-Israeli dual citizen who served as Comptroller of the Pentagon on 9/11 and managed to abscond with $2.3 trillion dollars, as Rumsfeld announced the day before. Post Comment Private Reply Ignore Thread Top • Page Up • Full Thread • Page Down • Bottom/Latest Begin Trace Mode for Comment # 58.
#1. To: christine (#0)
Nonsense...
really, Cyni? what do YOU know that none of the rest of us do?
It should be clear by now that the accumulated self proclaimed whizdumb of ignifool is best expressed with one word dismissive ejaculations, often followed some sort of childish taunt to any that would question his whizdumb.
Please try to cogently and coherently address the message, and not the messenger. Thanks much.
Lod, respectfully NO! Been there, done that. He squirts diarrhea on a thread and we're supposed to lick it up. He can't (won't) defend his positions cogently and politely and I don't have to eat his shit.
Stick to the facts and follow rules of courteous debate when engaging fellow forum members. It's easy to do. Just reply with factual, logical arguments free from fallacy and malice. Even then, who's reading whom? Whose minds will change? We never know.
I believe that comment should have been directed our Yoda who is incapable of such, and who through his use of fallacious arguments and fabricating rules intended to stifle debate relieved me of the obligation of any courtesy. Cyni is at best an old fool that has been banned from every forum that allowed him in for rudeness and drunken nuttery, not exactly mentor material. I've shown deference to you in the past as a kindness, I think you might have misunderstood my courtesy. You really don't have a dog in this fight. Do you understand the concept of global thermonuclear war. I find its promotion untenable.
But I do. I'm genuinely trying to be supportive of good dialog. I failed to convey that in my remarks, but I will continue to try.
Never try to teach a pig to sing; it wastes your time and it annoys the pig. fool me once, shame on — shame on you. Fool me — you can't get fooled again. Scarlett: What are you doing? Rhett Butler: I'm leaving you, my dear. All you need now is a divorce and your dreams of Ashley can come true. Scarlett: Oh, no! No, you're wrong, terribly wrong! I don't want a divorce. Oh Rhett, but I knew tonight, when I... when I knew I loved you, I ran home to tell you, oh darling, darling! Rhett Butler: Please don't go on with this, Leave us some dignity to remember out of our marriage. Spare us this last. Scarlett: This last? Oh Rhett, do listen to me, I must have loved you for years, only I was such a stupid fool, I didn't know it. Please believe me, you must care! Melly said you did. Rhett Butler: I believe you. What about Ashley Wilkes? Scarlett: I... I never really loved Ashley. Rhett Butler: You certainly gave a good imitation of it, up till this morning. No Scarlett, I tried everything. If you'd only met me half way, even when I came back from London. Scarlett: I was so glad to see you. I was, Rhett, but you were so nasty. Rhett Butler: And then when you were sick, it was all my fault... I hoped against hope that you'd call for me, but you didn't. Scarlett: I wanted you. I wanted you desperately but I didn't think you wanted me. Rhett Butler: It seems we've been at cross purposes, doesn't it? But it's no use now. As long as there was Bonnie, there was a chance that we might be happy. I liked to think that Bonnie was you, a little girl again, before the war, and poverty had done things to you. She was so like you, and I could pet her, and spoil her, as I wanted to spoil you. But when she went, she took everything. Scarlett: Oh, Rhett, Rhett please don't say that. I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry for everything. Rhett Butler: My darling, you're such a child. You think that by saying, "I'm sorry," all the past can be corrected. Here, take my handkerchief. Never, at any crisis of your life, have I known you to have a handkerchief. Scarlett: Rhett! Rhett, where are you going? Rhett Butler: I'm going back to Charleston, back where I belong. Scarlett: Please, please take me with you! Rhett Butler: No, I'm through with everything here. I want peace. I want to see if somewhere there isn't something left in life of charm and grace. Do you know what I'm talking about? Scarlett: No! I only know that I love you. Rhett Butler: That's your misfortune. [Rhett turns to walk down the stairs] Scarlett: Oh, Rhett! [Scarlett watches Rhett walk to the door] Scarlett: Rhett! [runs down the stairs after Rhett] Scarlett: Rhett, Rhett! [catches him as he's walking out the front door] Scarlett: Rhett... if you go, where shall I go, what shall I do? Rhett Butler: Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn.
Great line, isn't it? Sarcasm doesn't always come in such clear, celluloid packages.
You wanted great dialogue.
laughing...
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