As I reflected on the devastating collapse of my 1st electroculture antenna…
Hands hovering over the keyboard.
A wave of panic hit. 😳
Heart racing. Palms sweaty.
Had I just wasted weeks of effort? Was I about to type “Electroculture is a scam” into the search bar?
The realization hit me.
I had no idea what I was doing. 🤫
It’s like every time I need insight, and I pull out a tarot deck, expecting some kind of profound wisdom.
I grab the deck. Lightly shuffle.
One card flops out. Face down.
I’m so in-tune with the card it feels like a slap in the face.
The Fool.
Every.
Single.
Time!
Yeah, Universe. I get it. Time to move on. Thank you.
So, I did what any totally normal person would do.
I locked myself away. Grabbed a stack of dusty old books.
They smelled like mothballs. And forgotten attics. And possibly regret. 😵💨
The authors?
Pioneering researchers from the early 1900s. Some even as far back as the 1700s. Talking about harnessing atmospheric electricity to grow better plants.
Was it true? Could it really work?
I had to find out.
Then—BAM. 💥
I met David and stumbled onto something big.
A massive online Electroculture Community. Over 200,000 members. Which sounds impressive… until you realize that size doesn’t actually mean much.
Because when a group gets that big? You spend half your time just deleting spam, blocking bots, and removing highly unfortunate posts that absolutely no one asked for. 😵
David and I suddenly had a part-time job we never signed up for. But I digress. We do love the community. And I guess… what’s one more member?
That’s your cue. Join the community. But don’t just lurk—engage. Comment. Ask questions. But, please, for the love of copper coils, do not ask which way to wrap your wire around the stick you found in your backyard. There’s a search bar. Use it. 🙃
Anyway, back to my story…
Not all Electroculture setups are the same. 🤯
Imagine planting a dwarf apple tree. Small. Manageable. When the wind blows, apples drop right into your basket. How convenient.
That’s an antenna—it picks up radio wave signals and electromagnetic frequencies. Hence the name antenna. It does generate current, but compared to a collector?
Significantly less.
Now picture an ancient heirloom apple tree.
Towering. Majestic. A tree that’s seen generations come and go. (Yeah, that’s assuming it was reinforced properly and didn’t snap in the first storm.)
An atmospheric collector isn’t just picking up EMF—it’s pulling in electrostatic energy. Big difference.
And if you’re going to enforce a mast… you might as well make it tall. Why go small when you can go 10 feet?
Which leads me back to my actual mistake.
I thought I was planting a mighty apple tree. Turns out, I planted it in shallow soil.
My original antenna? Tall, yes. But no real reinforcement. No gable wires. No cement footing. No structural integrity. Just… zap straps. Wire clamps. And maybe a little too much faith in science of duct tape.
So, naturally… it collapsed.
But now? I know what I’m doing. 😇
And in my next emails, I’m going to show you what happened when I actually got it right—how I set it up properly, why it worked, and the wild benefits I saw from it.
It’s good. Really good.
Talk soon,
Ray Lee Bacon
(Yes, that’s my real name. No, it’s not a stage name. Yes, I love Bacon. No, I will not change it.)
P.S. Wanna see what an atmospheric collector actually looks like? It’s David’s Electric Fertilizer site, where you can check one out—and yep like most good promotions, he’s got them for sale. So if you’re tired of guessing which way to spin your wire, maybe just grab one that’s built right.
It’s a top-secret link (not really, but let’s pretend). 😉