Sunday, October 24, 2010

What About The Boy?

London, a city in the kingdom of vaccine giant Glaxo SmithKline, had him first.

The crouching, unwitting monument to vaccine-induced neurological illness was on full display in the Millennium Dome in 2000. Not too long after people began to recognize The Boy's likeness to that of any number of children in their own neighborhoods.

The Boy eventually ended up at ARoS Aarhus Kunstmuseum, right on the doorsteps of Arhus University, the former CDC public relations sock puppet which produced fraudster Poul Thorsen, and his special brand of On-Demand studies which once told anybody desperate enough to pay millions of U.S. tax dollars that Thimerosal doesn't have a causal relationship in the creation of Autism even though it does.

There isn't really a lot of interpretation needed, for parents by the thousands see the boy with the realism needed to identify him.

The image is giant. Seeing the half-naked child isolated from the world around him is very familiar to parents of vaccine-injured kids. He is in a fetal position. His body is hurting. His nerve troubles are evident in his strained facial expression.

Rarely does art not present the will of the social engineering agenda. The Boy experience was designed to softly normalize the vaccine-injured child.

The secular humanism spirit contends to displace man's tragedy with such trophies. The Boy on display is a triumph for genocide by modern methods. His display represents a celebration over mankind by ungodly pagan ritual.

The fiberglass boy is a plague monument, a holocaust memorial, and a Spruce Goose all in one.

As hundreds, perhaps thousands of people pass by they will first detect the troubled eyes locked in the thousand yard stare. He is positioned to face a blank wall. They see The Boy with his head overt away from the bright light beaming in through the glass curtain.

When it was suggested that mercury-laced vaccines for U.S. children had created Mad Child Disease the uproar blew leaves off the trees. Yet, The Boy sits a thousand yards or so away from Poul Thorsen's store front.