The PR Blog

Imagine if, in early 2020, the Australian people had been told that a new disease, COVID-19, would cause just over 200 deaths in Australia over the next two years. To respond it would be necessary to lock people in their homes, force them to wear masks, coerce them into getting an untested and dangerous inoculation to keep their jobs, create medical apartheid, lock the “unvaccinated” out of society, undermine the separation of powers by letting the Executive create rules instead of the Legislature, and suspend the laws of the land with state of emergency provisions.

Yet again, Neil Oliver knocks it out of the park. He says:

'People still write to me most days, often to air their fears about what they see as nothing less than an existential battle between good and evil'

The first Q drop was on October 28 2017, not 2015. The name Q wasnt even used until around drop 30. The first several hundred drops came on 4chan.

Qalerts.pub was simply an aggregation site for the 4chan posts to make it easier for normies to get to as 4chan is notoriously difficult to use for some.

Q's main mission was to awaken the general public to what is going on behind the scenes of the media and in government. But mostly, the media.

OK, I know you will all think that I am bonkers. But this is what happened.

My Mum, Redhead, is in a wealth of pain right now. Her leg has decided to be a literal pain in the arse and she is not a happy camper. But she got a message from beyond the sea. From my Dad.  And he has told her that he cares.

I was a young lady of about 12 years and my Mum, Redhead, was asked to do something that today would be unthinkable.To escort 25 young people through the perils of a train trip from Auckland to Christchurch in New Zealand.

It was 1968.

She was the sole adult in charge of young fencers from the North Island of New Zealand all bound to stab and joust,slash and parry; out manouvre and out play their opponents at the New Zealand Fencing competitions. I would become a fencer the next year but that is another story.

What on earth made her agree to such a task? Today, it would be unthinkable.

Someone asking a parent to do something so risky? " Oh, hullo, Mrs Redhead, would you mind spending a few days supervising 25 horny teenagers while they travel by train to a fencing championship met together at the other end of the country? Yes? Great! Here's your ticket! "

Redhead readily rose to the challenge and left me and Dad at home to sort things out in her absence. While I am not sure what instructions she left, I have no doubt that it included such things as be good, be kind and be yourselves.

And be cautious.

When I was a little girl of maybe 6 years, my two older brothers and their friend Norman had a gang called " The Silent 3 ". They had a clubhouse in the old coal smithy down the back of the property not far from the chook yard. It was an old corrugated iron shed that had been lying unused for years and was the perfect place for The Silent 3 to claim as their gang headquarters. Inside was a dirt floor and it housed the bones of many possums and other creatures who had gone in there to die. 

In this smithy, a plan was hatched that could have seen my Teddy Bear die from grief. Let me tell you how it happened.

The bones and skulls had been gathered up and displayed on the walls of the smithy and the atmosphere was dark, mysterious and somehow exciting to a little 6 year old tomboy who yearned to be a grown up and reach the grand old age of 8 or 10. On the few occasions I had managed to gain entry to the smithy, I marvelled at the round table they had and the apple crates strategically positioned as seats for the fortunate members of this powerful gang that plotted war against the neighbouring gangs of kids.

One day, I plucked up the courage to ask to join their privileged ranks.  The leader of the gang, my oldest brother, told me that they would hold a meeting and decide what to do. I waited and was finally given their answer. If I could pass a series of initiation tests, I might be considered. 

My first challenge was to go into the neighbouring farmer's paddock and touch the electric fence for 5 seconds without flinching. In itself, an easy enough thing to do if I wore my gumboots ( I hoped) because, as every country kid knew, rubber boots could be a big help in such situations.

gumboots do not necessarily protect you from electrocution. Do not try this at home. It could be a load of rubbish.

I agreed. 

The only problem was that, on the other side of the electric fence, was the farmer's bull. He was a huge creature, known for his rage and extremely bad temper. It was rumoured that, when stirred, his eyes would turn red and steam would come out of his ears. His nostrils would flare which was a sure sign that flames would soon spew forth from his nose and he would charge at any unsuspecting kid and trample them to death and then devour the lifeless body in one gulp.

I was a plucky kid and I felt that if I was armed with my gumboots and teddy bear as my trusty sidekick, I could thwart the bull's evil intentions and triumphantly saunter back down the paddock to a hero's welcome at the Smithy and an apple crate to sit on as reward for my brave and plucky act.

The morning of the initiation arrived and I set off up the hill and headed towards the electric fence. The bull was grazing in solitude about 50 feet from my destination. Teddy assured me that it would be Ok and, together , we would pass the test with flying colours.

not a photo of Shaydee aged 6. But you get the drift.

I walked the 6 zillion miles, heart pounding and clutching Teddy as though our lives depended on it. After all, as he whispered to me,  they probably did. By the time I reached the dreaded electric fence, I transferred Teddy to my right hand and extended my left to achieve my goal. Each second burned like minutes. Victory was within my grasp.

Except the bull had seen me approaching. His head had been raised and his eyes drilled straight down into my very soul. His nostrils flared and he snorted. I knew that his charge was imminent. I could almost feel the heat of the flames and the wrath would be upon me in less than a heartbeat. 

I got a mental picture of Teddy lying alone in my bed with its clean white sheets and him sobbing into the pillow that his beloved friend had been trampled to death and eaten by a rabid bull and I, his trusted companion, had failed in my duty to keep him safe at night when everyone knew the monsters came out.

not Teddy. He was smaller and rather better looking. Photo also not of young Shaydee

It was at that moment I KNEW that I had to sacrifice my task in order to save Teddy. 

I turned tail and ran, back down the paddock and over the stile to the safety of home ground. 

My brothers and Norman stood there laughing and clapping their sides. I looked at them with defiance in my eyes and declared

" I wasn't scared. Teddy was! " 

My brother looked at me and announced sagely " it's OK. We'll think of something else for you to do next time. "

And they did. 

I never did get to join the Silent 3. But Teddy is still very much alive.