Pneumatic MAIL of the 19th CENTURY! 600 km of Pipes Under New York: Suddenly "Became Unprofitable"

Stop for a second and look around.

Are you sure you know the history of the world you live in? From school desks, they drilled into our heads the image of the 19th century as an era of horsedrawn

transport, mud, primitive steam engines, and people who had only just learned to wash their hands yesterday.

The official chronology paints us a picture where the pinnacle of engineering thought was a steam locomotive puffing black smoke. But what

if I tell you that beneath the feet of these people under the cobblestones of New York, Paris, London, and Berlin, there lay a technological network of

such a level that even today in the 21st century, it seems like science fiction.

You have been deceived. They lied to us about the pace of technological progress to hide the fact that we live amid the ruins of a more advanced civilization.

Today, we are breaking the seals on one of the most inconvenient secrets for official historians.

We're talking about the global pneumatic mail system that enveloped the world's largest metropolises with a giant web of pipes hundreds of miles long and then

suddenly vanished. as if at the command

suddenly vanished. as if at the command of an invisible puppeteer.

Imagine late 19th century New York.

Officially, it's a city where cabs ply the streets and skyscrapers are just beginning to timidly rise upward. And in

this city, according to Dusty Archives, they suddenly launch a system capable of moving cargo underground at speeds up to 60 mph.

We're not talking about little tubes for sending receipts in a supermarket. We're

talking about massive cast iron and steel manes through which projectiles weighing dozens of pounds flew. The

official length of the pipes in New York alone was tens and according to some data hundreds of miles. In Paris, the

network covered more than 280 miles. in

Berlin, hundreds of miles.

And all this, we're told, was built just to deliver a love letter from one district to another 20 minutes faster.

Do you seriously believe in this economic model? Let's turn on critical

economic model? Let's turn on critical thinking and the calculator that traditional historians dislike so much.

To build such a network today requires billiondoll investments, tunnel boring machines, the most complex gi.

But we're asked to believe that in the 19th century, without computers, without lasers, without modern hydraulics, workers with shovels dug up all of lower

Manhattan, without damaging building foundations, laid hermetic pipes of perfectly precise diameter, and launched

the system. And all this worked without

the system. And all this worked without a hitch. But the scariest part lies in

a hitch. But the scariest part lies in the production details.

Where did such quantities of highquality steel and cast iron come from in the mid-9th century?

Look at the metal smelting volumes of that time. If we add up the weight of

that time. If we add up the weight of all the pneumatic mail pipes, railroad rails, building and bridge frameworks that were supposedly built in just 30

years, we'll get a figure exceeding the official capabilities of metallurgy at that time by dozens of times.

This is a mathematical dead end. Either

the factories operated on energy and technologies unknown to us or no one laid these pipes in the 19th century.

They simply dug them up, restored them and started using them.

Look at the capsule blueprints. These

are complex engineering devices to create pressure capable of pushing such projectiles miles. Compressors of

projectiles miles. Compressors of monstrous power are needed. Where did

these power stations stand?

They show us engravings with steam boilers. But any hydraulic engineer will

boilers. But any hydraulic engineer will tell you that to maintain stable pressure in a system of such volume requires power comparable to modern industrial turbines.

A steam engine of that time simply couldn't provide such air tightness and flow force without constant explosions and accidents.

But there were no accidents. The system

worked like clockwork.

And then something happened that makes your hair stand on end. In one moment, almost synchronously at different points on the globe. In New York, Paris,

Vienna, they declare this system unprofitable.

Think about that word unprofitable.

You just spent a budget comparable to that of a small country on laying hundreds of miles of underground communications.

This is infrastructure that should serve for centuries. And suddenly, after a

for centuries. And suddenly, after a couple of decades, you say, "Oh, it's too expensive. Let's go back to mail

too expensive. Let's go back to mail coaches and trucks."

That's absurd. No capitalist who knows how to count money would shut down a working logistics project of this scale unless he was ordered to or if the

system stopped working for a reason that can't be voiced. The official version states that the pneumatic mail was displaced by the telephone and the

automobile. That's a lie aimed at naive

automobile. That's a lie aimed at naive children. The telephone transmits

children. The telephone transmits information, but it can't transmit a physical object. The automobile sits in

physical object. The automobile sits in traffic jams, requires gasoline and a driver. A pneumatic tube is a teleporter

driver. A pneumatic tube is a teleporter for matter. Cheap, instant, automatic.

for matter. Cheap, instant, automatic.

Why don't we use it today? Why do we deliver parcels by couriers when ready mains lie under our feet? The answer is simple and terrifying.

We don't know how to maintain them.

Those who lived in the 19th century found this system, managed to start it up, played with it until the resources inherited from the previous civilization

ran out. And when the mechanisms began

ran out. And when the mechanisms began to wear out, they simply couldn't repair them because the knowledge was lost or

taken away. Look at the photographs of

taken away. Look at the photographs of the pneumatic male service halls. Pay

attention to the equipment. It looks

alien to the interiors of that time.

Complex pressure gauges, strange levers, polished metal against the background of brick walls and wooden floors. It looks

like a spaceship parked in a stable.

Historians tell us that this wonder of progress was created by the same people who treated runny noses with cocaine and didn't know about the existence of antibiotics.

They're trying to convince us that humanity made a quantum leap in technology in 20 years and then just as abruptly forgot how to do it.

Pneumatic mail is not just pipes. It's

evidence. It's proof of the existence of a global transportation network that connected not only buildings but possibly cities as well. What if these

pipes are just part of something bigger?

What if it wasn't male at all? The

diameter of the pipes in some sections was large enough for a person to fit inside.

In New York, there were documented cases of sending live cats and even people through the pipes for entertainment.

That's what the newspapers wrote. But

wasn't it originally a transportation system for moving people, which the new masters of the world adapted for sending papers because they couldn't figure out how to operate it?

We see degradation in usage. a highly

complex mechanism used as a primitive conveyor.

It's like using a microscope to hammer nails. And when the microscope broke,

nails. And when the microscope broke, they just walled it up in the wall and said "Unprofitable."

said "Unprofitable." Today, most entrances to these tunnels are welded shut, filled with concrete, or destroyed during the construction of

modern subways.

We're told these are just old utilities.

But why is access to the schematics of these tunnels still classified or restricted in many cities? What are they afraid of? That we'll find markings from

afraid of? That we'll find markings from the wrong era or materials whose composition doesn't match Mendelv's table from the 19th century.

This investigation is just beginning. We

will dismantle this wall of lies step by step. We will go further and look at the

step. We will go further and look at the numbers that will make your head spin.

Because the scale of construction attributed to people in frock coats contradicts all laws of physics and economics.

Let's dive deeper into the rabbit hole and look at one specific example that official science tries to present as amusing curiosity. Though in reality

amusing curiosity. Though in reality it's a nail in the coffin of traditional chronology.

We're talking about Alfred Eli Beach's pneumatic subway in New York. Historians

claim that in 1870, this man, a magazine publisher and not a professional engineer, secretly built a tunnel nearly 330 ft long under Broadway, away from

the authorities.

Think about that, secretly. in the

center of one of the world's most densely populated cities.

We're told that workers dug only at night, hauled out the earth in sacks, and no residents, no officials, no building owners above the tunnel noticed anything. Have you ever seen them

anything. Have you ever seen them replace a pipe in a yard? It's noise,

dirt, and vibration.

And here they're asking us to believe in the covert boring of a tunnel nearly 10 ft in diameter under the foundations of multi-story buildings without a single

building cracking. This is a lie aimed

building cracking. This is a lie aimed at idiots. But the most interesting part

at idiots. But the most interesting part begins when we look at the interiors of this experimental station. Engravings

and descriptions have survived. The

station was adorned with fresco stucco.

Expensive floor clocks stood there. A

fountain with goldfish bubbled and even a piano played. Why? Why such luxury for a technical prototype that according to the legend was just meant to prove the

feasibility of the idea? Engineers don't

do that. No one puts a piano in a wind tunnel. This is behavior typical of

tunnel. This is behavior typical of those who didn't build but excavated.

They found this hall. It was already there with the finishes with remnants of former grandeur.

They simply cleared it of the dirt brought by that very cataclysm the textbooks are silent about. Inserted a

little car they managed to assemble from planks and wheels into the old transport tube and started giving rides to the public passing it off as their

invention.

This is cargo cult in its purest form.

Natives found a plane and use it as a temple not understanding how it flies.

Let's return to the scale of the mail network. 370 m of pipes under New York.

network. 370 m of pipes under New York.

Try to visualize that volume of metal.

370 m is the distance between major cities. If these pipes had been laid

cities. If these pipes had been laid open cut, as they did with sewers, all of New York should have been dug up along and across for 50 years. The

streets would have been impassible.

But on photographs from the late 19th century, we see smooth cobblestones, bustling traffic, and no signs of the grand construction of the century.

The official version states that the pipes were laid quickly and efficiently.

By whom? The same people who built houses from brick and even have jackhammers.

Here we come to the question of metallurgy and air tightness. A

pneumatic system requires perfect fitting of joints. the slightest gap and the pressure drops. The capsule gets stuck to ensure air tightness over

hundreds of miles. Highquality rubber or polymer seals are needed. Where did

industrial volumes of vulcanized rubber with such characteristics come from in the mid 19th century? Rubber processing

technologies were in their infancy back then. And yet, the pipes also had a

then. And yet, the pipes also had a complex system of switches and junctions. Capsules had to be

junctions. Capsules had to be automatically rooted. That means there

automatically rooted. That means there was a complex logic system, a kind of mechanical computer. We're told it was

mechanical computer. We're told it was controlled manually by operators.

Imagine a flow of thousands of capsules per hour. No human could switch the

per hour. No human could switch the flaps at such speed without errors. An

operator's mistake would mean a jam inside the pipe somewhere underground, impossible to clear without ripping up the asphalt.

But the system worked for years. That

means there was automation and it wasn't steam powered. Another

shocking fact, the diameter and throughput capacity. Some postal system

throughput capacity. Some postal system pipes were so wide they could transport not just letters but large cargo as well. Why such excess? If you're

well. Why such excess? If you're

building a system for letters, you make a pipe 2 in in diameter. If you make a pipe 8 or 12 in in diameter, you're

allowing for shipping something else.

What? Food, weapons,

or was this a resource distribution system in a bunker city? Look at the blueprints of the so-called blowers.

These are giant wheels spinning at insane speeds. We're told they were

insane speeds. We're told they were driven by steam engines, but any mechanic knows. Direct drive from a

mechanic knows. Direct drive from a reciprocating steam engine to a high RPM fan is an engineering nightmare due to

vibration and uneven stroke. Bearings of

that time made from babbbit or bronze would simply melt from such loads in a week. Yet they worked for decades.

week. Yet they worked for decades.

Either magnetic bearings were used or the engines were electric and extremely powerful and the steam was added later to explain the inexplicable.

And here arises the main question. Who

was all this built for? Let's look at the official demographics. City

populations grew explosively precisely at the end of the 19th century. Where

did these millions of people come from?

Why does the infrastructure, sewage, water supply, subway, pneumatic mail, often seem designed for far more residents than were officially

registered at the time of construction.

We see cities built with room to grow with a gigantic margin of safety. That's

not how they build under capitalism, where every cent counts. That's how they build when restoring what already exists.

These pipes were the bloodstream of an organism that was much larger and more complex than the civilization of cab drivers and newspaper men they paint for

us in movies. We are like ants that have settled in an empty computer case. We

run around the motherboard, build our little houses from dust, and think that the copper traces are just strange roads. But sometimes someone finds the

roads. But sometimes someone finds the power button.

Pneumatic mail was such a button. And

when it started working, the new masters of the world got scared.

They got scared that people would start asking questions.

Let's break down the most brazen lie that official historians use to cover up the technological failure of the early 20th century. They tell us pneumatic

20th century. They tell us pneumatic mail became unprofitable.

This word unprofitable is a universal plug used every time they need to hide the loss of technology or the impossibility of reproducing it. But

let's turn on logic and the calculator.

A pneumatic system is essentially a pipe and air. It has no complex moving parts

and air. It has no complex moving parts along the entire route, no internal combustion engines requiring regular oil and filter changes.

No tires wearing out on asphalt. There's

only a compressor at the station and a smooth pipe. From the point of view of

smooth pipe. From the point of view of physics and engineering, it's the cheapest way to transport goods over short and medium distances if you have

cheap energy. And that's where we

cheap energy. And that's where we approach the main secret. If we believe the official version, compressors were driven by steam engines devouring coal by the ton.

Let's calculate the efficiency of a 19th century steam engine. It was miserably low, around 10%.

To create pressure in a system hundreds of miles long, to maintain vacuum or pressurization would require train loads of coal every day. Cities should have

drowned in soot and grime, even more than they described to us. The cost of a single shipment under such a scheme would cost a fortune. But historical

documents tell us that sending via pneumatic mail cost pennies, was accessible to ordinary citizens, and was used on mass.

Here lies the fundamental contradiction.

Either the 19th century economy operated by different laws, or and this is far more likely, the energy for running these systems was practically free.

We arrive at the conclusion that the steam engines in the engravings are either a later addition or mere decoration.

The pneumatic mail system, like the wireless trams we see in old photos, like the fantastic lighting of exhibitions from that time, operated on a different principle. Possibly

atmospheric electricity, which Tesla spoke about and which apparently the previous civilization widely used. Those

very domes, spires, and metal grills on the roofs of old buildings, which we consider mere architectural excesses, could have been receivers for this

energy. As long as this energy network

energy. As long as this energy network functioned, pneumatic mail was profitable.

It flew. But as soon as the world's redivision occurred, as soon as the new masters decided to put humanity on the needle of hydrocarbons, oil and coal,

free energy was shut off or banned. It

was precisely at that moment in the early 20th century that pneumatic mail suddenly became a burden. Not because

trucks were better. Trucks of that time were slow, unreliable, and expensive to maintain. Pneumatic mail became

maintain. Pneumatic mail became unprofitable because the new owners of the world didn't know how to power these giant compressors without that lost or

hidden energy source. Attempts to

convert the system to coal or primitive electricity made it economically senseless.

It's like if you found a smartphone but had no charger and you try to power it by attaching a bicycle dynamo to it. It

works poorly, heavily, and unprofitably.

easier to throw out the smartphone and write on birch bark. That's exactly what humanity did. We abandoned high-tech

humanity did. We abandoned high-tech underground logistics in favor of primitive gasoline burning automobiles.

Another shocking fact, the synchronicity of the shutdown.

New York, Paris, Berlin, Vienna, everywhere the same scenario.

flourishing milliondoll investments, then abrupt oblivion within one or two decades.

This doesn't look like a market economy where technologies replace each other smoothly. It looks like a stop command,

smoothly. It looks like a stop command, as if someone pulled the switch. And the

scariest part is how quickly we forgot about it. 370 m of pipes under New York

about it. 370 m of pipes under New York couldn't just evaporate. They weren't

dug up. That would cost more than laying new ones. They're down there, walled up,

new ones. They're down there, walled up, filled with concrete, like the veins of a dead giant buried right under our feet.

Let's look at this from the perspective of demography and information flow.

We're told that in the 19th century, people wrote millions of letters to each other.

Statistics from New York Post offices show figures that are hard to wrap your head around. Hundreds of thousands of

head around. Hundreds of thousands of shipments per hour at peak loads.

Who were these people? The city's

official population was much smaller.

Literacy rates among immigrants and workers were low. They didn't have time to write five letters a day. Who

generated this traffic?

This system overload suggests that the real population of cities was different.

Either there were more of us or society's structure was different.

Pneumatic male is infrastructure for a highly developed information-based society, not one of factory workers toiling 16 hours a day. They're trying

to sell us the idea that this most complex engineering network was just a whim of the Victorian era. But look at the reliability.

The pipes have lain underground for over a century. And in many places where

a century. And in many places where diggers or builders accidentally uncover them, they show no signs of through corrosion.

We only get metal of that quality today under special conditions. And we're told this was ordinary cast iron poured by

bearded men in dirty workshops.

That's a lie. The casting, welding or seamless joining and corrosion protection technologies used in these pipes surpassed the standards of that

time by a head. These are artifacts.

We live in a post-apocalypse without even suspecting it. We walk on the roof of a buried world, use the remnants of its grandeur, and pride ourselves on

inventing the iPhone. Even though we can't replicate Roman sewers or New York pneumatic mail, we've reached the darkest and most

frightening part of our investigation.

If you think pneumatic mail was created so that Clarks could send invoices to each other faster, you're looking at the world through a child's eyes.

Let's take off the rosecolored glasses.

370 m of pipes under New York alone.

This isn't male. It's the bloodstream of the giant organism that the city was before the catastrophe.

Recall the diameter of the main pipes. A

barrel-sized container could easily pass through them. Why? To send a letter? No,

through them. Why? To send a letter? No,

this was a life support system. We look

at blueprints of so-called kitchen lifts and coal shoots in old houses and miss the obvious.

These shafts and pipes were part of a single network. Imagine a civilization

single network. Imagine a civilization where there's no need to go to the supermarket where food, clothing, medicines, and any goods are delivered straight to your home or to the

distribution node of your neighborhood in a matter of minutes. free or by completely different principles of exchange that we've forgotten. This

wasn't commercial logistics. This was a social utopia realized in metal, a city machine, a garden city that cared for its inhabitants.

That's exactly why the density of construction in old cities is so high and the streets were originally not intended for transport. People didn't

need to go anywhere for things.

things flew to them themselves underground quietly and unobtrusively.

This system freed people for creativity, science, and art. And it was precisely this freedom that was taken from us. Now

look at the demographic explosion at the end of the 19th century. Official

figures say that city populations doubled and tripled in decades. Where

did these millions come from? Historians

mumble something about urbanization and declining mortality rates, but the numbers don't add up. Birth rates

couldn't physically provide such growth.

It was a great migration or settlement.

We are descendants of those who were settled in empty cities. Cities left

over from a previous higher civilization that disappeared or was destroyed. We

came to it already made. We occupied

these houses with high ceilings, huge windows, and strange doors. We found

this pneumatic system. But the new managers of the world realized one terrifying thing. This system gives

terrifying thing. This system gives people independence.

If you have a pipe that brings you resources, you don't depend on the merchant, the carrier, or the oil magnate.

You're free.

And free people are hard to control.

Therefore, the decision was made. Shut

down the system, declare it unprofitable, pour concrete over the entrances, cut the communications, and force people to

go out on the street, buy cars, burn gasoline, stand in lines, and work for what used to be delivered automatically.

They turned us from inhabitants of paradise into maintenance staff of hell.

We think progress is an iPhone in our pocket, but real progress was under our feet, and it was deliberately destroyed to create a consumer society.

There's an even darker theory. Look at

some schematics of the Paris and London catacombs where these pipes ran. They

lead to places that aren't on modern maps. Deep bunkers, huge halls whose

maps. Deep bunkers, huge halls whose purpose is unclear.

What if pneumatic mail was not only for delivering cargo but also for emergency evacuation?

Or even more terrifying, for disposal?

There are gaps in history when entire peoples vanished without a trace. Could

this network have been used as a giant vacuum cleaner to clean cities after a cataclysm?

We find strange photographs of empty 19th century cities. Not a soul on the streets, only majestic architecture.

Where did the people go? Maybe the

answer lies in those very large diameter pipes, officially called garbage shoots.

We live in a world that we didn't build.

We are like domestic animals let into the laboratory after the scientists left. We've learned to turn on the

left. We've learned to turn on the light, but we don't know how the power plant works. We use the sewage, but we

plant works. We use the sewage, but we can't replicate the brick work of the collectors that stand for hundreds of years without repair. Pneumatic mail is

a symbol of our defeat. It's proof that we're not developing, but degrading.

We've replaced instant eco-friendly underground delivery with smoking trucks and couriers with backpacks.

This isn't progress.

It's a roll back to the stone age, only with the internet.

Think about how synchronously around the world they began destroying these systems. It was a global operation to wipe memory.

If these pipes had remained operational, any engineer today would ask, "How did they do this without CNC machines?"

And the official history would collapse like a house of cards.

They needed to hide the technologies.

They needed to make us believe that we are the pinnacle of evolution and our ancestors were dirty, unwashed savages.

But pipes don't lie. Metal doesn't lie.

The surface finish quality impossible to replicate artisally screams that there was a civilization of gods here and we

live on their bones.

Now that we've gone this path from admiration of engineering genius to horror at the scale of the deception, let's put the entire puzzle together.

We stand before a fact that changes everything.

The so-called great reset that modern globalists scare us with is not a plan for the future.

It's what already happened in the mid-9th century. and pneumatic male is

mid-9th century. and pneumatic male is one of the few surviving skeletons of that era that they didn't manage or bother to hide.

Think about why exactly at the turn of the 19th and 20th centuries, a wave of strange, devastating fires rolled around

the world. Chicago, Boston, Seattle,

the world. Chicago, Boston, Seattle, dozens of other cities burned to the ground precisely at the moment when infrastructure needed rebuilding.

The official version is always the same.

A cow knocked over a lamp. But what if these fires were a way of cleanup? A way

to destroy traces of technologies that the new masters couldn't control or monetize?

Fire writes off everything. archives,

blueprints, inconvenient buildings, and possibly those very ground level terminals of the pneumatic systems that looked too futuristic for the steam age

concept imposed on us. We see a clear correlation. As soon as a new financial

correlation. As soon as a new financial system based on usery and the oil standard is established in the world, free and efficient technologies of the

past are declared unprofitable.

Pneumatic mail was dangerous for the new elite. It represented the principle of

elite. It represented the principle of decentralized automatic distribution of goods. It was logistics of abundance.

goods. It was logistics of abundance.

The new power built a system of scarcity. They needed you to pay for

scarcity. They needed you to pay for every mile, every gallon of gasoline, every minute of delivery. A pipe through which a capsule flies due to pressure

difference requires virtually no consumables.

This is a nightmare for a capitalist who wants to sell you tires, oil, and new cars every 3 years. Therefore, they

concreted the entrances, declared the system unprofitable, and made us forget that transportation can be different.

Look at the map of the 19th century world. It was a global civilization with

world. It was a global civilization with uniform construction standards. Antique

buildings in Australia, South America, Russia, and the USA are identical. And

under all these cities, there are tunnels.

We found pneumatic mail in New York and Paris. But how many such systems are

Paris. But how many such systems are hidden under St. Petersburg, Melbourne,

or Buenosaurus?

Most likely, it was a single planetary network. We modern people behave like

network. We modern people behave like barbarians who captured Rome. We roast

meat over bonfires in imperial palaces and crush marble statues into lime. We

use the greatest engineering structures of the past, these giant collectors and tunnels, as mere drainage ditches for our waste. This is the level of our

our waste. This is the level of our fall. We didn't evolve from apes to

fall. We didn't evolve from apes to space fairing humans. We degraded from gods to plastic consumers.

What should we do with this truth?

Awareness is the first step to freedom.

When you walk down the street of your city and see an old manhole with an incomprehensible marking or a strange cast iron post whose purpose no one can

explain, no, this is the periscope of sunken Atlantis.

Under your feet sleep dragons of steel and copper. 370 mi of pipes under New

and copper. 370 mi of pipes under New York haven't gone anywhere.

They wait. Perhaps the technologies capable of restarting them still exist in the closed archives of the Vatican or in the private collections of those families who rewrote our history.

They know the truth. They know that we live amid ruins and their power rests solely on our ignorance.