“If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans.”
Unknown
“I got you an invitation to the red carpet for the premiere of Plandemic 3 in Austin, Texas.”
I’d been attempting to rest up after weeks of National Citizens Inquiry hearings, figuring out how to unwind and absorb over 200 hours of testimony and recover from a whirlwind cross-country tour that left me exhausted.
The call came from a freedom colleague who shares my commitment to see the NCI spread to the US and abroad.
He figured I’d be able to meet with some movers and shakers at Mikki Willis’s latest and greatest instalment of the Plandemic series, and so I was granted a spot to do quick interviews with the likes of Mikki Willis, David Martin, Del Bigtree, and Judy Mikovits.
The premiere was in just over a week and I had no passport and no camera equipment and no idea how I was going to make this happen.
But I had an intention.
I wanted to meet with these influencers in the medical freedom movement to tell them about what we’ve accomplished here in Canada with the NCI.
I wasn’t that interested in superficial 4-minute interviews at a noisy film premiere, but if I could get there and get invited to the after party, I could have some real conversations.
And hey, if standing on a red carpet with my cellphone and a microphone was what it would take, I was in.
The NCI approved the endeavour and I scrambled to pull it all together.
Friends and supporters started making calls and sending emails to anyone with a connection to the premiere, trying to get me a ticket to the aforementioned party -- the sold-out freedom event of the season.
On Monday morning before the weekend premiere, I crossed my fingers and went to the nearest passport office…and found it empty.
“Is this normal?” I asked the smiling woman at the Service Canada counter.
I was assured it was never like this.
She explained that I’d need a letter from an employer demonstrating the need for urgency in turning around my passport in 2 days.
I texted my freedom friend and before I got to the next counter, he had quickly drafted an email outlining my invitation to cover the premiere for his media outlet.
It was approved and my passport was set for pick up later that week.
I booked my flight, hotel, and car online, spending 2 hours with a customer service rep after having my travel package disappear as soon as I tried to book it.
Next, I contacted the NCI audio visual team head, affectionately known as AV David.
“How do I shoot interviews on my cellphone??”
After an online search around Montreal (where I’d been making a poor attempt at relaxing), he found an appropriate store and sent me there.
He walked me through the purchase of a tripod and microphone equipment, and later took me through exactly how to set it all up.
The day of the premiere, I got up at 3:30am to be at the airport 2 hours before my 7am flight.
I still had no confirmation that I could attend the golden ticket party, but I was trusting that I would figure that part out when I arrived.
When I got to the airport, I discovered that my first flight had been delayed due to the now common “pilot scheduling issues.”
When I arrived in Toronto for my connecting flight, I made a mad dash to the gate, running through customs wheezing and sweating, getting there in time to see my plane sitting on the runway — but too late to board.
(It was at this moment that I vowed to get back in shape after 3 months of travelling and sitting in hotels all day, listening to testimony.)
I burst into tears.
The NCI is a non-profit funded by citizens counting on us to get the truth out.
I felt like I had failed my mission.
As I stood at the customer service counter trying to pull myself together and explain why a flight getting me to Texas the next morning would be useless, the compassionate woman at the counter waited until I could breathe properly.
“Take your time.”
I explained that I had to be there for the film premiere, even if I couldn’t make the red carpet.
It took at least half an hour to try to figure out a solution, but then she had it.
They would send me to Newark, where I would take a third flight to Austin — by bumping someone off the flight!
(They offered $200 cash or a $300 credit to the person who eventually relinquished their seat. Thank you, stranger.)
Knowing I’d have to go directly to the theatre from the airport, I changed my clothes in the bathroom, put my sweaty hair up, and recorded a message for our NCI supporters...
There wasn’t going to be time for any interviews, red carpet or otherwise, so I could at least let people know where I was and what was happening.
That simple little video garnered such lovely responses and demonstrated the spirit of community that has catapulted the NCI into a movement.
People on our team were praying for my safe arrival and wishing me luck.
This, like everything else at the NCI, was a mission of love and compassion.
As soon as I landed with my final flight, I rushed to pick up my car.
Except the car company wasn’t there.
I’m not sure it even exists.
After talking to employees from another company, I was told that the “deal” I signed up for was a scam.
Seems that a lot of people had been duped by this company.
(Caveat emptor.)
I grabbed a cab and went straight to the theatre, suitcase in tow.
And so it was that I arrived at the theatre, 5 minutes before the film, suitcase in hand and still no invitation to the afterparty.
Like the National Citizens Inquiry itself, this whole endeavour had been a leap of faith.
At some point during the rush and emotion of the day, I’d forgotten the faith part.
But I hadn’t forgotten my intention.
Something would come out of this messy day.
It wouldn’t be all for naught.
As I sat in the balcony and the film started, the audience went crazy, cheering and booing at the heroes and villains of the story of the last 3 years of Covid tyranny.
And when the film turned its focus to the Canadian truckers, the Freedom Convoy, and the invocation of the Emergencies Act and the violent disruption of Canada’s greatest grassroots protest, I wept.
But not because I was upset.
The woman beside me asked me if I was okay.
“I was there!”
It was so validating to have our Canadian tragedy showcased for an American audience, by a filmmaker with international reach.
At the end of the film, I dragged my luggage down the stairs and into one of 3 lobbies.
With over 2500 people in attendance, I still had no idea how I could possibly get to the party and meet the people I was there to see.
And then a mini miracle happened.
In the crowd of thousands, I came face to face with Mikki Willis’s wife, Nadia.
“Hello! I’m Michelle and I’m the spokesperson for the National Citizens Inquiry in Canada and I flew here today to share what we’re doing.”
I don’t know what exactly came rushing out of my mouth after that, but she looked at me and said, “Follow me.”
After a week of trying to connect with the Plandemic planners and get a pass into the hottest party in town, a chance meeting in the lobby with the gatekeeper of the event got me in.
I made several great connections that night, and I got to meet the maker of the most watched film series in history.
If you haven’t watched the first 2 instalments, watch them here for free.
(Just scroll down when you click the link) 👇
All Plandemic films are offered to the public for free, and have had over 1 billion views.
This latest film provides the most comprehensive look at the big picture around what’s happened over the past 3 years.
COVID-19 was not about health or even medical malfeasance.
It was about control.
Mikki makes a compelling case that it is the methodical move towards communism that is responsible for mandates that demonstrated our ability and willingness to comply.
Given the corporate-government alliances formed during these last few years, I personally find fascism to be a better description, but the direction of the tyranny hardly matters in this compelling and credible look at the way our freedoms are being strangled.
Left or right is irrelevant.
Authoritarianism is a real and present danger to all of us.
I encourage you to watch, share, and discuss Plandemic 3: The Great Awakening, which you can access for free here 👇
The next day, I took a walk along the beautiful streets of Austin, stopping to buy a poem from a local poet dressed like a reporter in a 1940s film, sweating over his manual typewriter.
“What do you want your poem to be about?”
“Medical freedom and the tyranny we’ve been experiencing through Covid.”
He put a piece of brown paper bag into his old Remington Portable and started pounding the keys.
Here’s what he wrote…
There was a million
year marriage made in some
derelict condo behind
a super 8 motel.
It was between corruption
and his sister, science.
The officiant was a greedy
bird that flew from hell
to sell us on this loving
trust.
The two, true to themselves,
burned the vile box
in which they wed,
and with the evidence dead,
strode out to plant
poison in hopeful needing
head.
We still see bride and groom,
looming in gowns of certainty,
ernestly asking we trust
the rusted beams of this hastily
built, yet ancient building.
@Atxpoetrystore on Instagram
I flew home the next day, my flight delayed after another “pilot scheduling issue.”
But I was in no rush.
I had fulfilled on my intention.
I had made valuable contacts and even new friends.
It didn’t look anything like I had expected, but then life never does.
In the coming months and years, there will be more of the unexpected.
There will be more uncertainty and more tyranny.
But I am setting my intention that we shall overcome.
I am making plans, but reminding myself that these are just guidelines.
Plans give us focus, but intention determines outcome.
We are on the right side of history, we have the right people, and we have the power to create the outcomes we want and are willing to stand for.
For everyone who wished me well, said prayers, or simply trusted I would fulfill on my intention, thank you.
I feel blessed and humbled to be part of an historical movement, surrounded by people with the kindness and compassion Canadians are known for.
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