“Plague justified the rules that kept a person in her place. . . . We’ve seen how plague became the reason, just like terrorism today, for social regulation, for saying how children must behave, for taking a worker’s right to choose what work he wanted, for deciding which of the poor are worthy of help and which are just wastrels. Plague enforced frontiers that were otherwise wonderfully insecure, and made our movements and travels conditional. It helped to make the state a physical reality, and gave it ambitions.” ~ Michael Pye, The Edge of the World
In the ten Stages of Genocide where are we now?
Why are the Covid non-compliant called selfish when it’s the vaccine pushers who are rushing science so they can return faster to their personal pursuits of pleasure?
Hat tip to Dispatches from the Asylum for posting this highly relevant quote: “In keeping silent about evil, in burying it so deep within us that no sign of it appears on the surface, we are implanting it, and it will rise up a thousand fold in the future. When we neither punish nor reproach evildoers, we are not simply protecting their trivial old age, we are thereby ripping the foundations of justice from beneath new generations.” ― Aleksandr I. Solzhenitsyn, The Gulag Archipelago 1918–1956
I rewrite this personal anecdote every few years, whenever it feels I might be able to improve it a bit at just a moment when I feel the seed may fall on fertile ground.
The scene: Me, alone, 1989, traveling by train through Italy, Czech Republic, Poland, East Germany before a semester abroad in Lille, France:
The demand at every border, on both sides of the border, by intimidating uniformed men who could tell instantly I was a foreigner, well before my passport and visas were promptly presented. This is, for reference, even in the five miles it takes across ‘no man’s land’ from East Germany to West, between Germany and Italy, between Czech Republic and Slovakia, etc.
For reference, imagine traveling the equivalent of 3 states in New England and having to show your papers 6 times, even in the middle of the night in your sleeping car. Whether they chose to search your backpack or detain you for any number of unknown reasons depended more on the officials’ mood than anything you might say in the moment, so you learn quickly to keep your mouth shut, nod and smile, A LOT.
It was annoying and intimidating but especially, for me as a young, naive American, it was baffling. As was the constant currency exchanging, the shifting languages, the ghost-town Sundays when everything was closed. I was already used to being mobile across vast distances since my earliest memories without any of these inconveniences. It seemed primitive to me. Backwards, less advanced culturally, surviving from the Stone Age.
It was the first time I really considered a few of the advantages of my home country, since it was already trendy by that time at university to defile the uncouth, uneducated ‘ugly American abroad’.
When I went back again after grad school in the mid-90s I saw for the first time protestors against the European Union and heard for the first time the word “Globalism”. I considered those protestors as I did the other European inconveniences, that is, yet more survivors of the Stone Age. I’d bought the propaganda like the good student I was.
Please note—I was bold enough to travel through foreign countries alone as a ‘cute young thang’, foolish enough to roll my eyes at border officials (once), confident enough to crash on strangers’ couches or even on a bench of a train platform, desperate enough to work illegally, dumb enough to smoke hash in the loo, smart enough to learn a few foreign languages—but not nearly wise enough to recognize the mountain of propaganda I’d swallowed—hook, line and sinker.
No borders? Single currency? One GIANT happy Global family? What in carnation could be wrong with those protestors??
I saw the EU maneuvers as the continuation of a smooth skate in an ever-ascending flow toward cultural Enlightenment.
I was a front-row witness to an explosion of progress and those protestors were a visual menace to Europe’s peaceful transition. Thankfully for me, they were really easy to ignore. The politicians and media agreed with me, obviously, and slurred and minimized their pathetic attempts at being such bitter clingers to the past.
Ringing any bells yet?
It wasn’t for several more years that a few pinholes pierced through my blinders. First, it was non-stop celebration.
I lived on the Czech side of what was referred to as Sudetenland, just past the west German border and the goods were flowing, fast. The thrill of choosing between 3 kinds of toilet paper, the gratitude for non-fat yogurt, the convenience of plastic wrap and home phones and fancy new trains, all upstaged the coming onslaught, for a while.
Then the McDonalds came, and the ubiquitous candy and junk food and porn and the flood of advertising. And, once the EU was firmly established by the end of the decade throughout most of Europe, it became nearly impossible for an unconnected American to find legal work anymore.
And if that wasn’t all bad enough, then came the crowds.
Booming tourism, which I once believed would be a great thing, began invading all my favorite quiet haunts and deserted streets and the subtle, muted colors of old Europe went proverbially (and sometimes literally) neon.
And, finally, I questioned, “Uh-oh, what have I been blindly supporting through my ignorance and short-sidedness all this time?”
It had never occurred to me for a moment that I might be inviting in Tyranny through the back door. I’d considered myself an advocate of progress. But, I was not wise enough to ask: “Whose version of progress?”
The American Empire is on its last legs, but I never wanted, or asked, to be a part of any empire. Progress to me now means something very different than it did 3 decades ago. I wish we could go down more gracefully than the empires of the past, but there’s little hope of that.
So instead of hoping for a miracle I work, with growing awareness in ever-increasing ranks, toward piercing more pinholes in all those as unaware and propagandized as I once was—those who are still blinded by tyranny in its many guises and stuck in various roles of keeping it alive and thriving, while insanely badgering on about ‘progress’.
Relatively speaking, we had an excellent year. I’m not the type to gloat, really. It comes as no surprise to me at all that my experience is pretty much the polar opposite of most folks most of the time. I accepted that ages ago and prefer to think I’m perfecting this ‘gift’ bit by bit, year by year.
Following are some highlights, some whys and hows and so forth, not meaning to boast or give advice, but rather to contrast previous years with my rosy 2020 perspectacles.
I perfected sourdough bread. I’ve been getting failures regularly for years without understanding why and thanks to one farm friend and her new guru, Elaine Boddy, I got the bitch slap needed to learn I was doing it ALL wrong. Not only was I making it infinitely more difficult than it had to be, I had a flabby starter and was creating needless waste. We’ve entered into higher consciousness sourdough on the wee homestead, praise be.
I have also become a Kombucha master. Really, a master. It’s easy to say that for a number of reasons, but especially because so few folks drink it around here, or like it once they try it, that it’s in the realm of ‘acquired tastes’ and only needs to appeal to Hubby, and two nearby friend-aficionados. I’ve been working on signature blends for months, using seasonal herbs and fruits, have Kombucha vinegar in a few flavors and am now aging Kombucha champagne. It’s the funnest thing ever. Or, I’m just a real geek like that.
Of course, no one becomes master without help, and in Kombuchaland, this is Scripture:
Three great gardening successes overshadow the multiple failures—like a second year of sweet potato perils and a fourth year of melon miseries. I leave those to ponder in an upcoming post. For now, it’s Cranberry hibiscus, Blue coco beans and Trombetta squash. I really can’t praise them enough and they were prolific and worry-free and I can’t wait to plant them again in profusion.
But I once said that about the sweet potatoes and the melons, so I’ll shut up now.
Extra-special mention goes of course to the best news of the year, Hubby’s layoff-rebranded early retirement, a somewhat unexpected miracle that has improved my reality already in very unexpected ways. Sometimes the true weight of a burden isn’t fully realized until it’s lifted.
I knew he’d take over most of my animal chores leaving me more time in the garden and the kitchen, where I most prefer to be. And that he’d build more and relax more and check off items on the to-do list at a more satisfying pace. We’ve added two large asparagus beds, coop 3.0 has raised the bar once more in poultry housing, the orchard looks positively professionally and my promised potting shed is in the planning phase finally.
What I had not expected was how good all of that would feel and that it would come so early and that he’d be so glad about it and that we’d be prepared enough for it to not miss the income much in the foreseeable future.
There’s incredible empowerment and peace of mind in preparing, and not just financially. It has gone in a single year from “Prepping” being something we heard mocked for a decade in the mainstream to now feeling like we were choosing wisely all along—not the easy road for sure, but the right road for us and the many others doing likewise.
And with that a wee bit of a boast.
And another. Still, mask-free, with no need or intention to alter that reality or any of the layers horse shit coming down the pipeline with it in future. Have I earned the right yet to say what I really think about these fucking vaccines? Decker, at Dispatches from the Asylum, says it best so far: vials of battery acid.
Just mark me down in your permanent ‘anti-vaxx’ file and if they send the goons to our house, warn them they’ll be given a good ole-fashioned goose chase. (hmm, bravado before breakfast, I must be feeling good!)
Food for thought for the New Year:
“Ignorantly worshiping our own being on the theater of the external world leads to pathological behavior and neurosis. We are ensnared and enslaved to the will of despots in all sorts of guises. We are wide open to irrationality, manipulation, mania and insanity. As parents often work to deliberately undermine our will and identity, the world’s leaders and misleaders use our psychic dissociation to their advantage. In fact, our estrangement from ourselves is the main reason for the rise of all tyranny. However, the deadly predicament ends the moment we heed the inscription at the Oracle of Delphi – “Gnothi Seuton” or Know Thyself. No other instruction is needed on the journey toward enlightenment.”
It comes as no surprise to me that there are those at this dark hour who still refuse to see
Welcome to 2021 Where Obedience to tyrants is sanctioned supreme Compliance to absurdity marks every team Plying under the guise of social harmony
Trumping spirits free Driving all mankind Cloaked in Scientism’s Feigned Divine
“Collectivisation means the handling of the common affairs of mankind by a common control responsible to the whole community. It means the suppression of go-as-you-please in social and economic affairs just as much as in international affairs. It means the frank abolition of profit-seeking and of every device by which human beings contrive to be parasitic on their fellow man. It is the practical realisation of the brotherhood of man through a common control”. If Wells’ outlines look similar to those ideas recently made public by the World Economic Forum’s Great Reset, then don’t be surprised.
Some of us are compelled by learning and therefore find ourselves comfortable in lifetime roles as teacher and student in tandem.
I left formal education with a Master’s degree in order to become a teacher, which I did do, for two decades. I’d probably still be teaching, but I became too disgusted by the system to continue in it. First, I witnessed as students became little more than commodities and teaching became not about learning, but about customer service. That was higher education, but once testing became the anchor of achievement in high school education, it’s the same thing in a different mask.
I used to encourage my students to challenge me, to “talk back” because I saw that was a serious lack in my own upbringing and education and vowed not to pay it forward. Students found me challenging, but fair, and I took that as the highest compliment that can be awarded to a teacher.
As the curriculum noose continued to tighten around our necks I watched as 99% of my colleagues went with the new and ever-tightening program for a few more years. Then I gave up. The system had sucked out everything I’d loved about teaching and was actively trying to turn me, and my students, into automatons, robots. When I lost the joy in it I was no longer good at it.
It was a blow to my ego and our bank account, but I knew I’d made the right choice for my soul. It’s been a few years now and surprisingly to myself, I don’t miss it. I embraced the student role fully again—on all things homesteading and conspiracy theory. An odd match, one might think, but to me it makes perfect sense.
Conspiracy theory is the study of power, that’s it in a nutshell. It’s not nearly as scary as the mainstream news, social engineers and politicians make it out to be. I was forced out of education for my own lack of power—it seems obvious to me then to restore my individual power I needed to understand much more about how power functions. I’ve been blown away by my own ignorance on that front.
To seriously study conspiracy theory one needs a firm grasp on two fundamental topics: psychology and social engineering. The essential sub-groups stem from there: history, religion, spirituality, politics, philosophy, linguistics, folklore, and more.
Like with homesteading, there’s FAR more to learn than can be done in a single lifetime or by a single individual. And for that, I find them both absolutely enthralling and a perfect marriage—the essentials of the practical and the esoteric bound together forever.
I know there will come a time I move once more from the student role to the teacher role in these endeavors. That time is not in my near future. I’m waiting for something, or someone, but I can’t tell you for what, or for whom.
But with leaving my formal, former student/teacher career came the most valuable lesson of my life, which I see now is becoming increasingly pertinent for loads of folks: When to walk away. Like the old song goes: “You’ve got to know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold ‘em . . . .“
For anyone truly dedicated to their roles, this is going to be seriously challenging. You’re going to create a huge, empty space in your life that you’ll then have to guard like a bulldog so that chicanery and nonsense are not then sucked into the gap.
Discernment will become your best friend. Attempts to manipulate your re-emerging Self with group-think or calls to obedience will become intolerable. You will lose friends at a rapid clip.
But you will become an expert student and the expert student needs to know only one thing: When to walk away.
The first two things you’ll hear in New Age Brainwashing school, in which we are all currently being systematically submerged are: “There are no accidents.” “Victimization is a choice.”
The so-called New Age, birthed from the Human Potential movement and begetting such popular offspring as Scientology and Christian Science, has been pushed for well over a century already and include schools and foundations like the Esalen Institute, Frankfurt School, Tavistock Institute and myriad others. These two fundamental beliefs work hand-in-glove to perpetuate the status quo, while pretending to help individuals and society at large.
“There are no accidents.” “Victimization is a choice.”
In other words, everything that happens to you was meant to happen. This is a clever ruse to get the individual to perpetually deconstruct their own actions in order to align better with the world around them, no matter if that world is healthy or insane. Don’t question society. Don’t question tyranny. Question yourself. Look in the mirror and change yourself. In this way you will ‘alchemize’ the abuse or tragedy that occurred to you, against your will, and therefore not only be healed from it, but be stronger from it as well.
The proponents of this warped ideology will swear until the ends of the earth that this is the only way for victims to ‘gain traction’ and it’s the only place where ‘the rubber meets the road’.
It is an outgrowth of Biblical teachings where one is considered more spiritual, more enlightened, more ‘good’ if—as he makes meaning of the events in his life, which is a perfectly natural human thing to do—he never points a finger to the perpetrators of such accidents or abuse, only at his own role in them, no matter how minuscule that role might have been.
In this way your ‘personal growth’ can then be owed to those who victimized you in the first place. As the joke goes among the plebes in a brotherhood after they’ve been swatted with the fraternity paddle, “Thank you sir, may I have another!”
Because “God” only dishes out what you can handle, right? So if you’ve been granted disease at birth, sold into sex slavery by your parents, gang raped at your office Christmas party, lost limbs in war, ‘chosen’ by your priest as ‘special’ —well congratulations—you’ve been gifted at the highest level of spiritual development. What heroic life potential!
Revenge? That’s so petty. Trial by your peers? Good luck with that. Choose more wisely and by the way, you have one choice—get over it—for your own good.
In this way the tyrants and their collaborators can further muddy the waters by throwing into the mix everyone who thinks of himself as a victim, whether or not he truly is one.
Upset because your neighbor hasn’t been properly social distancing? Did your poor choices lead to 5 children from 5 different fathers? Has your cocaine addiction ruined your life? Did your business fail, your girlfriend cheat on you, your dog eat your homework?
Just hop in the victim bandwagon, where everyone is welcomed and no one knows how to use discernment, because all they really need is someone to cry with and listen to and share their pain with, in order to feel heard for five minutes over the cacophony of bullshit flying at them. It’s no wonder to me at all the victim groups just keep growing and growing. I suspect there’s no end in sight.
I know more folks who actually are victims, yet insist they are not. They’ve bought into this establishment farce completely. They march ‘empowered’ for other victims and repeat the nonsense they’ve heard to keep them out of the pathetic victim group.
You can be healed by your attitude! You must alchemize that cancer into “the best cancer ever! Really, you can do it!
And there’s about 2 million YouTube gurus to tell you exactly how.
No need to wonder what gave you cancer in the first place. No need to face down your abusers. No need to learn discernment. No need for justice. No need to understand the psychosis of our civilization or the lies of our history. No need to accuse or confront the tyrants by name at all. Just follow these simple steps and violà, you’ve turned the lead of your psyche into gold and all will rejoice with you. Yippie!
The ‘victim mentality’ is on overdrive now because it’s a very useful tool of the establishment. If everyone is #metoo, then no one is really #metoo—it’s just the culture, sit back, gaze into your eternal naval-mirror and repeat after me: “There are no accidents. Victim is a mindset. Find the silver lining. Turn the other cheek. Let bygones be bygones. Buck up, Buttercup.”
I haven’t (quite) yet exhausted my efforts to save y’all from yourselves. This is a warning and a threat. After the call comes the cull, no one can save you then.
This post will be riddled with cliches, for your own good. That line in the sand, you need to draw it, now. You see, the mask nonsense, that’s the equivalent of a cult initiation ritual. The thermometer gun aimed at the center of your forehead, that’s symbolic too. And the social distancing, 6 feet, you think that number is based on ‘germ theory’, really?
Think I’ve just scribbled a bunch of conspiracy crazy? You might be right. No need to check behind that curtain. Instead, you could consider any number of other potentialities.
How about these: Do you really want to be that guy? Do you worship Authority so much you’d have someone arrested for not wearing a face diaper? Do you covet your paycheck and pension so much you’d be willing to do whatever your boss demanded of you?
Because once you give the devil your finger I seriously doubt you’ll get it back. Remember Humpty Dumpty?
“Somehow, the culture that I live in has come to be characterized by an outright disdain for independent thought. Public debate has been largely reduced to the pitting of competing authority figures against each other, and the capacity of most people to engage in reasoned argument begins and ends with an appeal to those authorities. Only a very few seem able to engage directly with information themselves, and those few are largely ignored.We have arrived at a point in history where the intellectual norm is now to abandon one’s own capacity for reason and to put in its place a collection of authority figures and institutions. Or rather, authority itself.”
Which do you think is a better example to set for your children and grand children: Not questioning authority is a virtue, or, proper questioning of all orders engenders a capacity of discernment? Because those two are mutually exclusive.
Collaborators come in all shapes, sizes and degrees. Feigning ignorance, or innocence, will not save you. It’s one of the most direct and simple choices you will ever make, don’t make it more complicated and confusing than it is. There are two camps, and you must choose one—Tyranny Vs Freedom.
Are you a nurse, or teacher, or officer who would force-vaccinate someone without researching beyond the mainstream consensus narrative?
“If these claims are accurate we can state that there is no evidence of a pandemic, merely the illusion of one. We have suffered incalculable loss for no evident reason, other than the ambitions of unscrupulous despots who wish to transform the global economy and our society to suit their purposes.” COVID19–Evidence of Global Fraud
I can only lead a horse to water. Collaborators be warned. If you’re standing around the pond too afraid to drink, I will have no choice but to let you stand there, wasting away, until the bitter end.
I was lucky enough to be invited yesterday on a foray, a mushroom hunt, about two hours south of us. My first question was, “Are masks required?” That’s because I had to cancel my participation in a much anticipated wilderness walk last month as soon as I learned masks were required.
There is a point where mask-wearing logic among folks must fly right out the window, no? Or at least, I keep hoping to stumble upon this point. Instead, I find at a mushroom foray where masks are not required, everyone is wearing a mask, children included, except for our party of 3.
That folks think these masks are actually doing anything is now a completely mute point to me. I know now, it doesn’t matter. If the masks are effective does not even cross the radar of most of them, I’m willing to bet.
At one point a mushroom was passed around the circle, so we could all touch and smell it, in order to better understand its properties and therefor how to identify it. The mask-wearers pulled their masks down in order to smell this mushroom that’s been passed under everyone’s noses in the circle.
At what point might we question whether these folks use any brand of reasoning faculties before making a decision of any variety? These weren’t even orders, they were nonsensical, unreasonable, unenforceable ’suggestions’ from Government tyrants they’ve never met, Not required by the event organizers (bless their hearts) yet they allow these control freaks dominion over their very breathing with NO basis whatsoever.
Logic, indeed real science, is banned and blocked and algorithmed to Fahrenheit 451, and corrupt professionals the world over take advantage of this.
Welcome to your asylum.
Here’s a few voices of reason left should you need to take a breath of fresh air, hurry, while supplies last.
I can’t think of another proverb that has more betrayed human civilization over the centuries than: “It’s God’s will.”
First of all, if God has a will at all, I’m certain no man alive today or ever has any clue whatsoever what it is. Secondly, anyone who claims to know what is the will of God should be treated with deep suspicion, not elevated to sainthood.
Thirdly, since so many others are doing it, it makes me want to do it too.
So, during these times of Our Great Global Scamdemic, I claim God’s will is . . .
Rage Moms! (Please send my Sainthood Certificate care of: Kensho’s Club of Common Saints.)
Along with their tribes of non-compliant, pissed off women, rage moms give me gobs of hope. I just heard about a few of them yesterday and my pride in humanity did indeed runneth over in that moment.
In case any readers need some serious rays of hope in our forthcoming ‘dark winter’ (according to the tyrants), click below, and may your faith in humanity be restored, if only for an hour or a season.
As the United Nations, Club of Rome, World Health Organization and various other international ‘public-private’ partnerships try to propagandize the world into their vision of “Global Sustainability” there are a number of crucial variables they’ve left out, which localities could capitalize on, if they were made aware of this potential.
For example, did you know there are salt mines all over place in this country? Salt was the basis of our first ‘trade markets’ — long before exotic spices of the Orient — salt was King of the World.
Salt was, well, worth its weight in gold, as the saying goes. Why do we import tea, the ‘native Americans’ might have queried of the mostly British expats settling here? There’s perfectly good tea all around you, can’t you see? And they might have made a few good jokes about that.
But salt? You’re going to import salt, too? What the bleep for?! That’s not even joke-worthy, that’s just a dumb-ass death sentence! You know it’s everywhere around here, right? And the gold y’all so covet, what’s that for, exactly? Y’all are really so very attached to your adornments, eh? Good choices there, give over your salt, so you starve, for gold, so you can pay your taxes. Brilliant system!
Here on the wee homestead we came inspired to see how long and far a road it is to self and community sustainability. We were thinking like most homesteaders, survivalists, etc., are thinking—food, water, energy. Obvious, these are crucial.
But what about the salt? That, along with the water, was the very first thing either robbed, buried, or tainted by the industrialist-minded settlers. Not the ones who came for a better life more aligned with their God and purpose, the ones who came expressly to profiteer for the pay-masters back home.
Long before our water and air were compromised, our people enslaved to the State and our ranges overrun with slave labor, our salt was “buried” by the Global Regulators. There are salt mines and primal (renewable, sub-surface geysers, essentially) water available all over this country.
That was known centuries ago! But go ahead and demonstrate your loyalty to the State, that tricked and enslaved your Great, Great Grandparents and before, by wearing that muzzle of submission and voting for your next tyrant.
Don’t care where your salt comes from? Next you don’t care where your water comes from, or your food comes from, or your energy, or anything else.