Stop the Madness!

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The geoengineering/weather modification is destroying lives, property and our environment.  This is now clear to millions of folks around the world who are getting educated, standing up, and speaking out.

But millions will not be enough to change this course, we have the biggest multinational corporations, governments and militaries around the globe against us, and against the entire web of life.

Like this landowner, who goes by Swamp Boss, we have also been losing trees at an astonishing rate these last several years.  This is absolutely not normal by any stretch of the imagination and any landowner paying attention knows this.  Our forests are being poisoned.

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I try to talk about this with folks—friends, neighbors, family—I even hand out flyers, and I get blank stares and eye rolls for my efforts, and rarely do I get a single question or look of concern.  It’s baffling and upsetting and I’m really peeved at the lack of care of those around me.  That’s why I spend so much time alone gathering evidence from folks I’ve never met, simply because it’s too painful to not find like-minded individuals, so I seek them out, even if only in cyberspace.

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There is plenty of information out there and if more folks don’t take an interest in the actual world around them, the natural world, we don’t stand a chance.

I really wish I knew what the magic formula would be to get folks to look up from their games and fiddlesticks for long enough to realize all our lives and livelihoods are in danger, and we are at war.

Folks need to stop saying, “Calm down!” And start rising up.

What will make folks care?  Who do you think your grandchildren are going to blame when they inherit a dead planet, while you eye-rolled yourself back into a zombified stupor bowed before your handheld radiation fondle slab?

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Or said, “No problem, calm down, God will solve it.”
Or said, “Technology landed us on the moon and will solve this too, so stop bothering me with your negativity.”

”But look . . ,” you will try to explain at your grandchildren’s accusations of carelessness and irresponsibility . . . “You don’t have food, but you have Facebook! We did that! You’re welcome!”

What kind of trade off have you made on their behalves, and who gave you such a right?

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When Ads Are Awesome

My grandfather, wise man that he was, used to turn down the television at commercials.  I used to love watching the commercials and would plead with him to turn it back up on my favorite ones, like Fruit Loops and Frosted Flakes.  He never did, and would laugh at me and shake his head, surely foreseeing the inevitable decline in culture with the rise of marketing to children.  Or, maybe he just understood how this business really worked, being he was a salesman.

We watch very little TV these days, occasionally the evening propaganda, so we know what the controllers want us to think.  Of course, we always turn it down at the commercials.

Now though, I’m thrilled to see there are ads I’m loving again!  This series cracks me up completely, who doesn’t love satire?!

The governments, it seems, don’t like it one bit.  Which means I love it even more!

 

Hazing is Gaslighting

This comes from my personal experience pledging the sororities at SMSU, Springfield, MO circa 1986.

Part of our plebe requirements after pledging was to memorize the names and birthplaces of all those sisters above us and to recite them, along with details of their preferences, and whatever else they felt should be important to us, for the privilege of belonging to their group consensus. Shortly after winning my entrance, I lost interest completely.

I didn’t last long once ‘Activated’ in Alpha Sigma Alpha, not surprising.  I was sucked in nonetheless for another year in these ritual phases until I refused to perpetuate these abuses onto the new coming plebs, and ultimately perhaps just to record them in my own small way now in the later years of my life.

My ‘big sister’ aka ‘sponsor’ had died in a drunk driving accident during my apprenticeship .  It was this tragedy that gave me mercy among the rest of the disapproving sisterhood.   You see, I’d given the horrid affront of not assuming appropriate position in appropriate hour with appropriate humility, and therefore, I must suffer.  I was grilled like a pale shrimp on the Barbie (bad pun intended).

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It was the candle vigil, dressed in white, yes, it’s really like that, just like you see in the movies.  And I was grilled.  It was ‘fair’ for some, not for others, who stood up for me, and won.  I was relieved.  That’s how Stockholm Syndrome works.  I lived in ‘the house’ as a pleb, and that’s how it works.  Good cops/bad cops.

There is no time-space.  These memories come to me as current, right now, right here.  This is not a blessing. Since the last weather disaster this spring, these memories just come, beyond my reasoning or control.

Just maybe, it’s some sort of karma.  And I’m not afraid anymore.  And I pity those who are still afraid, sometimes very sincerely, sometimes with a sense of sorry superiority that haunts me in the middle of the night.

I do know better now.  I am not that naive girl anymore.  I’ve made choices and braved chasms beyond these putrid machinations.  I’m not proud for that,  I did it mostly of necessity.  But I know, because of it, we will reside in different worlds, and will remain so, for the rest of our short lives.

You needed me to conform.  I get that.  I don’t shame you for it.
But, still, I do resent you for it. Though I’m very sure you couldn’t give a rat’s arse either way.

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Phoney Baloney

Is there a point when Americans will say, “Enough is enough!”?

We’ve long led the world in all things fake, but surely, there is a limit, right?

Fake cheese was already an affront to me as a teenager, as soon as I came back from my first trip to France.  I surely sounded snobby in my refusals to any longer group Velveeta and American cheese slices in the same category as real cheese.  I’d already drawn my line in the sand back then, but fake foods of all kinds are now more than ever the mainstay of American cuisine.

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Me, a cheese-maker? Didn’t see that comin’!

Fake boobs are still on the increase; fake facial features now the norm;  now we even have fake genders.

And as if that weren’t enough to be the last straw, folks have accepted fake weather.

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These days are dire indeed.  While I’m not particularly hopeful things will improve any time soon, I’m not particularly pessimistic either.  As odd as this will probably sound to most, it’s by paying attention to the doom-and-gloomers that I find strength.

Decker, Dispatches from the Aslyum, where musical offerings come with every post.

These are the folks who see through the spin. These are the folks who care enough to take a stand, who educate themselves and then courageously and relentlessly find any other way they possibly can to educate others.  

These are my virtual mentors.

It’s the hordes of rose-colored glasses folks that make me want to scream and rant and throw verbal daggers.  It’s these ninnies whose ignorance and apathy inspire such ‘hate speech’ to which they whine and want to make laws to protect themselves further from anyone pricking the bubble of their own delusions!

Sometimes I have to dive very deep into my wellspring of empathy to remember that many folks are dealing with major drama and disease in their lives and for us all we have every aspect of our culture stacked against what is our actual reality.  Many, a great many, Americans live more in a virtual reality than in a real one.  We are now several generations raised primarily by screens, starting with the TV.

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https://www.bitchute.com/video/VbOv_ClA7j0

The world of nature is no longer the norm, and this is what most scares me.  I have a very difficult time relating to those who, at still this very late stage, are not able to sense any danger in our position as humans at all and are perfectly willing to lay their very lives, and all of ours along with them, directly into the hands of a complete technological takeover of society.

https://www.technocracy.news/amazon-cloud-will-host-dhs-biometric-data-on-hundreds-of-millions/

I have to be honest, as unsavory as this is, but these folks feel like a liability to me now.

https://www.technocracy.news/opportunity-zones-technocrat-deception-to-plunder-america/

The Wisdom to Know the Difference

God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.

Do you have a favorite song?  Did you love it from the first moment, or did it grow on you?

Do you have a favorite hobby?  How did you find it?  Was it passed down to you from a parent or seem to appear from nowhere?

Have you ever doodled, maybe even just randomly while chatting on the phone?  What did you draw? Did you wonder why?

Have you ever pondered what makes your preferences your preferences?

When confronted with your obvious limitations have you ever said, “F*ck off!”?

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When you hear again and again, apparently sold with all the best of intentions the same menu:  You can’t control the weather; You can’t fight the government; You can’t be David against Goliath; You can’t conquer the dragons; You can’t rise above your lot . . . Have you ever said, “Excuse me, why the bloody hell not?!”

Some are most certainly doing it, so why not me?

You can call that a sense of entitlement if you want.  I call it something else entirely.

 

 

 

Beggar’s Strike or Fountainhead

1EE48CDE-5129-4D11-A65E-1B3E7F507FD9Two very different novels I read at university appear to have completely different ideological stances, but are actually about the same fundamental thing, now considering decades later.

The Beggar’s Strike (La Greve des Battus) 1979 by Aminata Sow Fall, considered an African classic, on which my Master’s thesis was based. Plot according to GoodReads:

 “The sight of disease-ridden beggars in the streets is giving the town a bad name, and the tourists are starting to stay away. If the Director of Public Health and Hygiene can get rid of them he will have done a great service to the health and economy of the nation – not to mention his own promotion prospects. A plan of military precision is put into action to rid the streets of these verminous scroungers. But the beggars are organized, too. They know that giving alms is a divine obligation and that Allah’s good will is vital to worldly promotion. So when the beggars withdraw their charitable service, the pious city civil servants and businessmen start to panic.”

In the U.S. this would be leftist ideology without a doubt. And yet, the very ‘right’ ideology of Ayn Rand fame, the Fountainhead (1945), is also about a strike. Again, according to GoodReads:

“This modern classic is the story of intransigent young architect Howard Roark, whose integrity was as unyielding as granite…of Dominique Francon, the exquisitely beautiful woman who loved Roark passionately, but married his worst enemy…and of the fanatic denunciation unleashed by an enraged society against a great creator. As fresh today as it was then, Rand’s provocative novel presents one of the most challenging ideas in all of fiction—that man’s ego is the fountainhead of human progress..”

What I remember from my nut-shell:  In the first the poor/used strike against the wealthy/privileged.  In the second the gifted/used strike against the wealthy/ privileged.  Sounds like a classic case of working both sides against the middle, Machiavelli-style.

Whether man’s ego is the fountainhead of progress we can debate all day and night, but what happens in the Fountainhead plot is basically they build a walled community of the select brilliant people to escape the tyranny of the majority.

In the Beggar’s Strike the majority is manipulated to serve the tyranny of the underprivileged few.

Both novels lead to the same outcome: collectivism.  Rand’s ruggedly individualistic characters still had every intention of serving the collective, they just wanted to be well-recognized for their efforts.  Fall’s characters have no intention of leaving the herd, they just want their heroic efforts to be recognized.  One noose for all necks.

From whom are y’all seeking recognition?  Rand’s characters deserve it based on their passion and creativity and integrity and perseverance.  Fall’s characters deserve it based on their humility, and perseverance, and creativity and integrity. But from whom?

Both are based on power structures of who needs whom more, and exploiting that angle to the hilt.

Whether the African jungle or the American one, the spin doctors are hard at work.

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Queen Myth-Makers

The following is a guided step-by-step in creating the perfect family myth. 

First, you need a volunteer myth-maker.  You will need a covert narcissist for this function.

The covert narcissist will need a team of flying monkeys. These are easy to create or buy.

She will need to be highly skilled in manipulation.  Most likely she will have learned this craft from her mother, as did she from her mother before, and so on.  

She will need to be married to an overt narcissist, this makes the ideal toxic family cocktail.  She will need to create trauma-bonding and sibling rivalry in the intimate environment through various forms of chaos-creating, including divorces, constant big parties and events; Sample menu: hors d-oeuvres of guilt and shame, a main course of roasted denial bullshit, and a dessert of flaming marzipan-coated turd-lies.

She will be able to move with ballerina-like precision between states of victimhood, coquettery, contempt, servitude, flattery, and various other forms of emotional witchcraft, and be magically-skilled at spinning every pair of granny panties into thongs.

She will need to remain oblivious to the drugs her children are consuming, provided by enablers on her staff.  Once they reach legal age this ‘selective blindness’ will be forgotten, or denied, or normalized, or most likely, all of the above in a varying cascade of verbal and visual spellcraft.

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This is speculation only.  I have no experiences or acquaintances in this domain.  It is for entertainment purposes only.