The selling point for implanting biochips beneath your skin is that they cannot be stolen.

[Pastor Dale Morgan]

Perilous Times and The Mark Of The Beast

The selling point for implanting biochips beneath your skin is that they cannot be stolen.

 

By Jack Duggan

The selling point for implanting biochips beneath your skin is that they cannot be stolen. They can be used to access ATM’s, pay bills, sign contracts, verify your identity--all without your wallet--and locate lost or kidnaped children. Should you, yourself, become lost or disabled, a global array of satellites will locate you, or any person who has been implanted with a SIB (Subdermally Implanted Biochip) anywhere on the planet.

A SIB can contain complete, valuable medical data about its wearer, saving lives in trauma cases. It can also index the wearer’s criminal record, voting record, party affiliation, and level of access to government facilities and benefits, all without the wearer knowing exactly what’s in there. Citizens will just have to take the government’s word that everything is kosher.

Eventually, governments will insist that all citizens have SIBs. You will not be able to use your bank, open home utility accounts, nor sign contracts unless fitted with a SIB, for ‘security purposes.’

One day, your car won't start and you won't be able to get a tow truck nor money to repair it because it your SIB chip is not working. The bank’s ATM won’t accept your SIB’s code, yet you see it accepting the SIB’s of other customers.

Your spouse will call from the grocery store, saying her chip also isn’t working and she can’t buy food for the kids. Once, stores accepted both cash and SIB’s, but by edict of the Federal Reserve System, no one may use cash nor credit cards any more. All for reasons of ‘national security’ of course.

After hours of begging a government agency for an answer, it will turn out that a 20 year old clerk in Scumpond, Mass., put a hold on your whole family’s chips because of an unpaid parking ticket attributed to your vehicle’s license plate number.

You shout that you have never even been to Scumpond, Mass., but it falls on deaf ears. You are told that you will have to take the matter up with Ms. Dumklerk in person. You telephone the Scumpond City Hall Department of Revenue from your neighbor's home, as your own phone was just shut off because of your “criminal status.” They tell you that Ms. Dumklerk is on a leave of absence, so you'll just have to be patient until she returns. No one else can help you, because Ms. Dumklerk encrypted access to all her files with her SIB code, which is against procedure, but they never had time to train her properly because they are underfunded and overworked.

You are told to call back in a four weeks, when Ms. Dumclerk might be back from the rain forest. Sorry.

Unable to buy or sell, you turn to family, friends and neighbors for aid. You need a car to get to work, food, diapers, milk, a kerosene heater for your house and candles, since the electric is shut off.

Your parents try to help, but they are immediately warned at the cash-less register in the store that they are not allowed to exceed their “fair share” in purchasing food and hardware for an elderly couple, which has already been calculated by the U.S. Department of Earth First. Sadly, they give you what little excess they had in their pantry, but it will only help your family for a few days. Ditto for your few friends and neighbors. After surrendering their small hordes, most give excuses, because they know what it means to fall under the scrutiny of the government for exceeding their “fair share” of the planet’s resources, as scientifically defined by U.C. Berkeley.

After two weeks, the baby is whining for milk, the children are begging for food and your wife can't stop crying. You no longer can use a phone to call Scumpond. Your neighbor just told you that his telephone is off limits, since you caused it to exceed the time allotment authorized by the U.S. Department of Communications Conservation. He is now himself under resource scrutiny.

Desperate, with no options left, you remember the old unregistered pistol buried beneath your bedroom floorboards. Never in your life did you think you would stoop this low, but the baby is now screaming non-stop.