The case for mysterious horse killings in the United States has been solved.

Case of the mysterious horse killings is the subject of this week’s article from investigative journalist, Tony R. Elliott.


There has been a rash of mysterious horse killings in the United States over the last few years, so many that police in the Pearland area south of Houston believe a serial horse killer may be responsible. This area is a rural area for the most part with many small ranches scattered about, most all have horses. The Pearland Police Department shared a post on Facebook warning about a possible serial horse killer in the area after discovering 5 horses slaughtered since May.

On June 10th, officials found a dead horse on the 14000 block of Kirby Dr. The horse had been stabbed in the chest and its hindquarters removed, presumably for its meat.

Tyler Bockel told Fox 26, the local news channel that he had gone to the property his grandfather owned to feed his family’s horses Goldie and Sugar, but discovered Goldie dead and butchered and Sugar still alive, but wounded.

Officials Warn of Possible Serial Horse Killer in Texas After 5 Found Butchered

Similar cases of mysterious horse killings have been reported in other parts of Texas, as well as in many other states including Florida, Colorado, Utah, and Oregon, to name a few.

The method of killing varies from stabbings, shootings, to some being shot with a bow and arrow. The possibility that these horses are being killed for their meat to be sold on the black market isn’t the motive, since most of them are just left for dead untouched.


Those responsible for these killings are very organized since they obviously plan each attack by scoping out the area of their intended kill and apparently, operate on a national scale. Such an operation requires organization, skill, and above all, the funds to carry it out.

Since these horse killings point to them being a well-planned effort to kill them without motive, there can be only one suspect who would have all the motives, money, and organization to pull it off. This would be the anti-meat, climate change groups such as PETA and others who are concerned with the amount of CH4 large farm and ranch animals like cows and horses produce, via flatulence.


There are countless other local climate change and environmental groups scattered throughout the country that are likely involved in this effort to eliminate horses because of their production of CH4 as well.

Along with the environmental organizations carrying out horse genocides throughout the country, we have the Bureau of Land Management who is currently involved with the massive roundup of thousands of wild horses in the western states of the US in which most captured will be slaughtered. This huge genocide is being carried out under the guise of thinning their population because of overpopulation.

So, the puzzle of mysterious horse killings is solved with environmental extremists’ organizations having all the motives and resources to pull it off, being the only suspects who would kill horses seemingly, for the sake of murdering them alone.

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Viewed here is another killing of a horse. Finally, the case has been solved.

Written By: Tony R Elliott

UNIVERSAL DIGEST is pleased to be a conduit for our contributing authors. We do not claim credit; we simply want to make it more available to the general public. And, the opinions of the authors are not necessarily the opinion or stance of this website, advertisers, assigns, or affiliates.

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Annie Williams


Annie walked in silence along the street until she was noticed by Officer Ted Darling…

When you are a security guard you see a lot of unusual and interesting people in your duties. A particular person at any particular time may or may not grab your interest, and in as much as guards are trained to watch for special points of interest, one person scuffling along a sidewalk on North Theresa Avenue near Washington Street kept attracting my attention; not so much as that he or she may be involved in some criminal activity, but because of their physical condition. I first noticed this individual bent over and crouched against an alley wall, and my thought at that point was that this person was drunk and intoxicated to the point of incapacity. The person made a weak wave to me with a hand, and I sloughed that movement off as a hobo that probably would be moving on in short order.

After a few minutes of patrolling the vehicles lined up and down an adjoining street, my view again came in contact with this person, who now had moved onto the sidewalk near the apartment building, and I could plainly see it was an elderly black person that was having great difficulty walking, had a metal cane for support, huddled beneath a rather large trench coat that hung sloppily over a misshapen frame. The person obviously was injured and possibly in pain.

I continued to watch on each additional trip past that point, and noted that this person was handicapped, made many encumbered steps, was bent almost at a seventy degree angle from the hip and could only move a few inches at a time. The person would stop, rest, and then hobble a little further in a desired direction, and repeat that sequence over and over. I recall the words ‘My God!’ coming to mind. The next trip this person appeared to be heading my way, but changed course and went back towards Washington Avenue. ‘This is not right,’ I said to myself, ‘I better see if help is needed.’

I slowly walked towards the person whose head seemed completely hidden beneath the collar of the coat as I approached from the rear.

‘Hello, do you need some help?’ I asked as politely as I could. In tight little increments of movement a head began to rise and the body turning artificially to allow an African-American lady’s face to arise, reminding me strangely of a turtle’s head coming out of its shell to look around, and two large brown eyes in the middle of a face, I swear, resembled ‘ET,’ the extra-terrestrial, in Steven Spielberg’s movie: all the wisdom, pain, longing of a lifetime written there. She was mustering strength to talk, one foot shuffled ahead of the other finding footing in her worn boots. Then she seemed prepared to speak:

‘Yes, no, ah….’ she appeared at a loss for words, words that sounded weak and unsure. ‘I ….. I’m just walking…. .’ And barely at that, I thought. We stared at each other for a minute or so, her with both hands cradling the top of the cane, looking for the entire world like George Steven’s Yoda movie character, but a Yoda that was seriously injured.

‘Are you in pain?’ I asked. I could see her eyes were matted by the cold weather and the tears that continued to wet her face. Her mind was dulled by age, but she still was active in searching for words, lips nervously moving to form expression.

‘Yes,’ she barely spoke audibly, ‘I…I….walk…walk for exercise.’
‘Does it help, I mean the pain?’ She nodded slowly.

‘How long have you had this condition?’

She gave a weak laugh, ‘Long time, now…. .’ She would glance up briefly as she spoke and then glance down at the sidewalk and remain gazing at the concrete. I thought for a moment.
Her withered and crippled hand slowly crept into her coat pocket and, grasped in a mangled fist, she brought out a wrinkled and dirty page of paper; Annie painfully placed it into my palm and folded my fingers over it as best her aged hand could. She again attempted a weak smile.

‘What’s your name?’ I asked. She again gave a weak laugh.

She lifted her head and this time gave me a strong, soul–searching look from two gorgeously bulbous and pitifully sad eyes: ‘Annie!’ She expressed it almost defiantly as if a different plateau of relationship had been reached. I smiled back at her.

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Annie Image

‘My name is Ted, Officer Ted Darling,’ I replied. ‘Ted,’ she repeated in almost a whisper. There was silence for a moment. ‘Will you be out here in the cold long?’ I asked. ‘No, no, I have to take my medicine…. .’ It was obvious that I shouldn’t go much further into her personal business.

‘Well, if you need any help at all, I’ll be walking by here every so often, don’t hesitate to call out for me, okay…….Annie?’ She slowly lowered her head up and down.

‘What….what….arthritis, rickets…..what….?’ I felt I should probe a little further. She insipidly nodded at the paper she gave me.

She gave another weak laugh: ‘Yes, everything,’ but her words came slow and almost in gasping breaths, ‘arthritis, diabetes, and neuropathy….everything…..’

‘Okay,’ I relinquished. And for a few more passes on my patrol I continued to watch her struggle moving diseased limbs and joints slowly down the sidewalk and slowly back in the other direction, occasionally resting her weight on the apartment wall. Then, sometime after sunset, she was gone and did not return.

The soiled and worn paper she gave me was headed in large bold letter: ‘If Annie Williams should be found ill and needs help, the following is a list of medications and medical conditions you should know about…,’ and what jumped off the page was a conflagration in a menagerie of disease and medicine that even I could not comprehend, and I promised myself I’d research the mysterious text as soon as possible. That mission came that evening before the public library closed. I headed home with a bag of medical books, settled at the kitchen table beneath a laptop computer, my investigatory juices parleyed the Internet into an ink pen dirge of medical facts. Annie’s ailments seemed daunting and unflinching: ‘Friedreich Ataxia, spinocerebellar tract, Hulter monitor, rheumatoid arthritis, crippling skeletal fluorosis, osteosclerosis of pelvis and vertebra, musculoskeletal fibrokeratoma, scoliosis, bursitis, Paget’s disease….’ Photo after photo showed broken, disjointed, twisted and medically diseased bodies, many with strained looks of fought-against pain. The list of medication used in treatment was just as disheartening as it allowed me to create in my mind belched visions of therapeutic mayhem that, I had read, such torture surely existed in the 18th century London Bedlam madhouse: ‘….Paracetamol, Pfizerpen-G, Percocet, Oxycontin, Naproxen Ibepuron, Ibuprofen, Neorontin …..’ About an hour into my indefatigable, cavernous research, a creeping raptorial nausea and sweating enveloped me, causing me to slam shut an opened medical book and slump crumpled into my chair as a dilapidated shack of depressed and weary flesh and bone. It was a sleepless night.

I certainly was on the alert for my new-found friend. The first night of patrol: Nothing. The same disappointment for the second, third, and the fourth nights: Sadness took hold of me, an almost heightened sense of freight that I might not see Annie again. Then, on the fifth day, there she was standing at the alley way, she slowly moved her hand side to side at her typical stomach level, her style of waving beneath her chronic pain.

‘Annie! I’ve been hoping to see you again!’ But, just as I lifted a foot to walk in her direction, a hysterical voice came from behind me: ‘Officer! Officer, can you assist me? I think I locked my keys in my car! Can you help?’ Caught in the dilemma of decision, I shouted to Annie: ‘Stay there, please; I’ll be back in a minute, please wait.’ Annie’s awkward rolling of her head on a nonexistent neck indicated her affirmation to wait for me.

About nine-hundred-feet away, on the next street, time seemed to agonizingly creep as I attended to the lady’s problem. Suddenly, the wail of sirens filled the air. From my vantage point I could barely see where on North Theresa Avenue the panic and canopy of scintillating blue-red, white circus of EMS and police lights were coming from. I knew something serious had happened; but I also knew the police were fully in control.


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It was ‘sometime’ before I was finished with the locked keys incident. The EMS and the police had long gone from North Theresa. The street was empty and dark and forlorn in the cold chill. I could only stare in desperation towards Washington Avenue. And then – ‘He’ came – turning the far corner of the building, quickly, swiftly, courageously, directly towards me as if on a mission, the pillar of his body passing through shadows created by the silver moonlight; tall, almost if on stilts, uniformed in stylish dark tailored linen trousers, his full-length solid black overcoat caressing his stride, synchronically whipping around his legs as he placed one foot strategically in front of the other in some seeming choreographed dance or march. I had no fear of his advance. He suddenly stood before me, a towering black man with sparkling black eyes as if polished coal or those of a gazing deer, his complexion a viscerally hearty ruddy-brown. He had no furrowed brow and appeared to be a caricature of the best of health. The silence seemed to go on forever.

‘You are wondering about Annie?’ He spoke very authoritatively.

‘Yes. Yes, I am’, I felt entranced, gripped by almost feelings of euphoria, ‘who are you?’

‘My name is Olorun Smith. I’ve known Annie Williams for a long time, a very long time. She is all right now. Oh, so many prayers have passed her lips. She is the happiest she has been in a long time.’ His tone was not typically Afro-American, but had the brogue of direct African descendants. ‘There was a lot you did not know about Annie. Did you know that Annie was an artist when she was young? Indeed, the best of the best. In 1911 she was a world-class act at the Dark Town Follies at the Lafayette Club, was one of the originators of the Cakewalk, ‘Ballin’ the Jack, and knew J. Leurie Hill, yes, yes, indeed. She danced nightly at the Savoy Ball Room for many years, and, and, in 1923 she was part of the Ziegfield Follies, the all black cast of the ‘Running Wild’ troupe. Annie was part of the 1936 Brown Sugar Revue at the world-renown Cotton Club; she sang with Lena Horne and performed regularly. But there is more: in 1925, Annie starred alongside Josephine Baker at the La Revue Ne’gre in Paris.’ In a perspicacious flood of words in rapid fashion, for a good ten minutes, Mister Smith spoke in a symphonic deluge of panoramic life events and historic narration, reciting about a life that only could have been a fantasy-world panoply for many a young lady; a wishful dream to most young girls.

‘Where did you get all ‘that’ information?’ I blurted out in total astonishment.

‘I’ve held black teenage Civil War soldiers in my arms as their blood oozed the life out of their wounds; that life-giving serum flowing through my fingers. I stood by Sam Clemons as Cub Pilot aboard the riverboat Paul Jones as we fought Mississippi River sandbars. I have watched with Captain Kermit Beahan, as we dropped the Little Boy atomic bomb upon Nagasaki – we looked into the Eye of Beelzebub and saw the face of Hell. I whispered words of comfort and salvation as living bodies fell from flaming ledges of the Twin Towers on 9/11…..’ Olorun’s eyes darkened even further in majestic intensity, a growing wisp of romantic fragrances emerging in the air….

Olorun paused, then grinned in a beaming smile that demonstrated a mouth of uniform and brilliantly white teeth, ‘I have seen things that you could not begin to accept; events that stretch far beyond the capabilities of your mind. I have been to places that exceedingly surpass the meager events of this tiny planet. I have walked on beaches trillions of miles from here with water so pure and so clear that as you walk in it, it washes your soul. I have known a succulent tropic plant on a very distant world whose juices would cure all known diseases. I have been to the center of your sun, indeed, I have been to the center of a million suns. I have sat abroad comets and raced through the solar system. I rode the comet that rained its watery tail down on Noah. I have come face to face with Evil itself, and I have ‘won’.’

Olorun suddenly looked ahead, over my shoulder, abruptly realizing that something new, something prorogating and urgent beckoned him, and he quickly rushed past me, whipping his overcoat against my side, dispersing mystical, aromatic, tropical scents of a combined unknown perfume reminiscent of Ralph Lauren, Michael Jordan Regal, and Chanel Pour Monsieur Concentrate. Stunned, I thought to myself only for a split-second, and then swirled around to confront him once again, ‘Mr. Smith!’

He was gone! Gone!

And I was left standing there with my heart pounding, immersed and lost in a violent mental flood as a rain drop fallen into an emotional sea, left with solemn and fantastic memories of Annie and the realization that this world was not nearly as real, or far more real, than it was before I met her.

Written By: Stephen Erdmann

UNIVERSAL DIGEST is pleased to be a conduit for our contributing authors. Some editing was provided. We do not claim credit; we simply want to make it more available to the general public. The opinions of the authors are not necessarily the opinion or stance of this website.

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Google Earth View of Stripe Cloud

Stripe cloud formation crossed the earth from the north to south polar regions over a three-day period of time. It was noticed on Google Earth, hence the featured image from MrBB333 who created a YouTube video after being contacted from a witness who sent him four videos depicting the defined cloud-line phenomena.

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Google Earth View of Stripe Cloud

Universal Digest was alerted from a friend and contributor, Terri Wong, who posted in the California Digest Facebook group. I sent a response to MrBB333 because of the objective views he took to build evidence that this ‘fixed’ climatic event occurred over a three-day period with witnesses involved (Please see the YouTube responses). I have since contacted a friend and fellow researcher, Dennis, in the Netherlands. He corroborates the other witnesses claims of what he called a ‘weird’ phenomena in the sky that lasted for the day. Further, some responses to the YouTube video stated they, too, observed the strange strip cloud overhead that stretched from one horizon north to the horizon south, as well. One response from a witness claimed to live in southern California, USA.

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Stripe Cloud YouTube Video courtesy MrBB333. This is well done and objective.

As MrBB333 claimed, Google Earth claims this was just a processing glitch. I have seen similar glitches in the past while viewing Google Maps and Google Earth; however, it has not been anything quite like this.

Here is the YouTube video. Again, I consider this to be a fair and objective determination that this stripe cloud formation was certainly fixed and not affected from other cloud formations above and below this phenomena. Please view the evidence produced illustrating the stripe cloud being viewed from the International Space Station, as well as, being viewed from the ground.

UFO Sightings Hotspot wrote an article on this observations. Click their link here to view their input and what the Netherlands witness had stated. For public information, I have copied the responses in a caption below.

The witness who submitted the footage to MrMB333 writes:

“Just to share a really strange cloud line in the sky above the Netherlands I’ve spotted on February 20, 2018.”

“Some strange straight lined cloud formation, quite wide and reaching beyond the vanishing point of my eyes.”

“The cloud line seems to be of a different kind of cloud material then the other clouds around and behind it.”

To reiterate, Dennis, who also lives in the Netherlands reported to me pretty much the same detail of the event. He didn’t take any videos or pictures, but does validate it is what he saw, too.

As the saying goes: Sometimes facts are stranger than fiction.

Written By: Ed Smith

PS: After publishing this article, some continued interaction occurred with some physics friends. I propose this theory due to recent climatic changes in California. What if the polar-to-polar stripe cloud that crossed the earth for three days (February 19-22) was of technical origination? I contend the human mind is almost limitless in what it can imagine, conceive, and create. Whether we got help from those from ‘other’ places or not, this seems to be a benevolent situation. California is now receiving (from a reported-almost stagnant weather front) rain and cooler weather that is due to last the entire week. It is just a theory. Anyone who cares to comment below are most welcome to do so.

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Giza Pyramid Earth Coordinates and Numeric Relationship to Light Speed in Meters are the Same! Coincidence?

Many have claimed the Giza pyramids, largely known as the Great pyramids of Egypt, were of extraterrestrial origin. Some very interesting research has resulted to make this determination.

In this article, we will detail some of the research, announcements and determinations on this subject. Why do light speed numbers coincide exactly with the coordinates of the Giza pyramid? We hope to shed light on this determination. We are not attempting a pun, here.

One of the most convincing announcements came from John Charles Webb, Jr. He claimed the calculation of light speed of 299,792,458 meters per second is identical to earth map coordinates of the great pyramid of Latitude N-29.9792458! Is this a stretch of math? Is this an amazing coincidence? What follows is information for the reader to decide what is accurate or a stretch of facts.

[themepacific_googlemap title=”Egypt” location=”Great Pyramids” zoom=”10″ height=250]


Dennis LeRoux of UFO Spotting, Netherlands is a trusted web source of Universal Digest. He has provided two graphics (Dutch and English) seen below. They point out the reference to light speed and the coordinates of the Great Pyramids of Giza including Google Earth:

The images above are quite convincing and do accurately point out the sameness of numbers. What follows are pros and cons on the subject.

We will start first with a YouTube video created by J. Dobbs on June 26, 2011. This is one of the pro versions:

Webb is portrayed in a negative light in from June 11, 2005. Again, there is no pun intended, here. The website, Skeptico, claims Webb is a wack who made outrageous claims about the pyramids and other determinations. Let the reader digest and determine what is real and/or what is outrageous.

John Charles Webb, Jr. has his own website to view, as well. It is quite simple and contains highlight links of his articles. Webb’s website, may be for sale.

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Universal Digest strives diligently to be objective and factual in its research. The reader should make their own decisions. Comments pro or con are welcome.



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