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.
Ok, seriously?
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.
Alison McDowell, deep bow Queen, thank you.
Vanessa Valentine, I invite you to join the ranks of Kensho’s Common Saints!
Carol, your channel is the truest truth on YT, thanks for being YOU!
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.
Related to the psychological term ‘cognitive dissonance’ this new Eco-socio-scientism-conspiracy term describes the thermometer and related mechanical device-reading temperatures that refuse to align with the visual and sensory data which would otherwise assure a concerned individual that the season is indeed changing.
A lunch of freshly foraged chanterelles and lactarius indigo—lucky for me, I chose wisely. These are not beginner’s mushrooms and I was really nervous! (Hubby didn’t dare, citing the obvious need that, just in case, someone must live to tell the story.)
”Hmmm, roast pork with spider sauce? Not sure I’m feelin’ ya . . .”
Persimmon seeds in the feral hog scat is a better indicator than that blazing 90 degrees Fahrenheit that’s frying the kohlrabi and beet seedlings before they’re a centimeter above the soil’s surface. Don’t fool yourselves, it’s not just ‘Mother Nature.’
This is that tricky New Micro-Season in East Texas, thanks mostly to weather engineering I’ve no doubt, where no crop, or handler, understands what’s actually happening.
Cardinal flower (lobelia cardinalis) Big Elkhart Creek
The days are far too hot for the cool season, the nights far too variable for any season. The hungriest and most prolific garden pests are still proliferating, long from dead from potential threat of frost, but the hungry chickens are unable to benefit because said voracious insects are conveniently barricaded with the young greens and seedlings they so covet within the garden gates where there‘s narry a predator to be found.
If the past few years of weather whiplash are an example, we’ll go from shade cloth over our boxes to in need of frost protection within a few days. Maybe this time we’ll be ready for it?
The bees are as excited as if it’s spring, which gets me worrying. I plan to do some honey harvesting very soon. I have a mean colony who I’ve been giving the benefit of the doubt for well over a year now but who might get the permanent boot very shortly. I got stung in the eyebrow, again, just trying to maneuver around their hive, gently. Just in order to weed!
There’s just no call for that level of aggression around here; they’re clearly asking for some serious retaliation. Sure, the golden rod they’re feasting on was not my doing, but that tree groundsel, excuse me, a meager toll is in order, considering I planted that expressly in that very position for their exclusive benefit.
2nd favorite thing I’ve planted this year: Thai Red Roselle, makes my favorite Kombucha, another favorite discovery of 2020!
First favorite, check back to summer posts, Trombetta squash. We are still eating it!
40 seconds of Zen, OR, as long as I was able to sit still before swatting another mosquito on my nose
I’ve heard this repeated so many times now, from so many different and I believe well-meaning voices, that I decided it’s high time to add my own voice to this nonsense.
Nature doesn’t deceive. Nature doesn’t try to fool you.
Today this is repeated by quite a few philosophers, conspiracy theorists and ‘truthers’ as a way to elevate nature above man’s conning and cunning ways and to condemn our current fantasy-based reality. I agree our so-called civilization deserves plenty of condemning. But, I do not intend to trade one set of illusions for another.
Apparently this attitude goes way back, to the likes of Walter Russell and an entire camp of German Idealists. I love nature as much, maybe even more, than these guys, that’s for sure. Yet my experience is there are no greater deceptions to be found anywhere else, the worst of man’s worm tongue included, than there are to be found in nature.
You wouldn’t dare!
There are mushrooms so similar that not only a spore print, but a microscope is needed to tell them apart. Poisonous Amanita spissa or delicious Amanita rubescens? Chlorophyllum molybdites, lepiota Americana or macrolepiota procera? Do you want a nice dinner or an evening hugging the toilet? Don’t be fooled, choose wisely!
“Destroying Angel” the deadly Amanita virosa
Man got his idea for camouflage directly from nature, obviously. In some cases the camouflage is so stealth you could be staring directly at a living creature and not even know until it moves.
Take a walk in the woods and you’ll see sticks that look like snakes and insects that look like sticks. There are spiders that look a lot like bats and bugs that look more like birds.
There are plants like poison ivy, my greatest garden nemesis, that look completely benign, leave no feeling or trace at all in the moment, but 12-24 hours later, long after you’ve forgotten all about it, can elicit a rash so severe you’ll be begging for relief even if it takes the form of a cocktail of toxic pharmaceutical drugs.
That horror story is my arm, on too many occasions to count.
The possum plays dead so effectively he’ll fool nearly any predator. The most beautiful flowers can kill you.
Datura inoxia
The most disgusting and unappetizing swamp insect can be delectable.
In fact, to say nature is THE Master Deceiver is even an understatement if you ask me. Nature is a raving, lying bitch at least half the time.
Living so close to nature, growing food, co-creating with the land has offered me the greatest single lesson of my life: Cute and nice are the camouflage of prey and pets.
Nature does not play nice. Nice is for ninnies.
It’s considerably more deceptive when man’s hands meddle in nature’s mix as well, quite impossible sometimes to tell where one ends and the other begins.
This is really the last straw and it’s clear I must find a way to demonstrate the resolute firmness of my stance. I will not comply, cooperate, collaborate, conform, or negotiate.
To that end, I’m going to coin a new mental disorder for myself and all the other poor dear souls seriously suffering for the idiocy of this current madness sweeping global civilization.
All those with Authoritarian Defiance Syndrome please step forward. Let’s join together in our victimhood, in that, at least, we can feel a part of the in-crowd again.
The scenario that did me in was serious indeed. In hindsight, with my 2020 goggles on, breathing freely without a suffocating face diaper, I’ve rewritten this conversation in a more sincere way, closer to the way I really feel. Authenticity is so important these days, or so they keep saying. How that fits in with covering the most expressive part of the face and the fine nuances of the voice, I’ve not a clue, but that doesn’t really matter now.
I gifted myself a birthday present and I was really excited about it. I’m not a big shopper at all, but I do love learning and adventure. So I invited Hubby and a friend to join me for a plant walk at the Caddo Mounds with a well-known naturalist in our region.
I was very excited, because I already tried to go on this plant walk last year, right before a manufactured tornado in the middle of the day during one of their spiritual ceremonies leveled the place, along with miles of the surrounding forest. Needless to say, the event was canceled.
Having already paid the $50 each for the afternoon walk, I received a courtesy call for the current event: Masks required.
Of course, I cancelled, despite my intense desire to learn from this expert on the flora and fauna in fall in our region and waiting patiently already a year and a half.
Why do I refuse? ADS. That’s right: Authoritarian Defiance Syndrome. I find it absolutely impossible to bow to tyranny. It’s not just that it’s even more ridiculous to walk around the forest in a mask than it is in the city. It’s the principle. Many will have no idea what that word means and even less what it looks like in action.
Another friend suggested I write to this expert and ask for special permission to remain free of required face diaper. I considered this option, and thought, what appeal might I make for such an undeserved privilege? Why should I be able to breath and speak freely while everyone else in the group is muzzled? How selfish. After all, I know folks who’ve got infections and rashes from wearing these awful things, yet still they comply. Is my suffering on par with theirs before making such a bold gesture as expecting special privileges from the expert?
What makes me so special? I haven’t worn one yet and it’s my goal to keep it that way. But, how? My concern is accelerating. It looks like this charade is not going to let up and in fact, the tyrants look to me like they are doubling down, with great pleasure.
ADS. The harder they push, the worse my condition becomes, it’s extraordinary. The more illogical they get, the more stubborn I get. Clearly this is an adverse condition that should make it into the DSM15, or whatever number the expert psychologist collaborators of tyranny are on now.
If my condition were severe claustrophobia (in fact my case is fairly mild, relatively speaking) would I be required by the social rulers to ride in a crowded elevator everyday? Would that not seem to be a cruel punishment of a mentally handicapped individual?
Obviously it’s ridiculous on its face that masks should be required in an outdoor setting. And to pour a little salt on the wound of my ruined birthday plans, my friend is going anyway. Nice.
In the meantime, I’m practicing my routine, for the next time I have to sacrifice to the many tyrants and the hordes of worshippers who love them.
Clerk: Ma’am, you’ll need to wear a mask. Ma’am (me): You mean a face diaper? I’m so sorry, I can’t wear one of those. I suffer from ADS. Clerk: It’s required, ma’am. Me: No, you see, I have an exemption from my therapist, it’s right here, Dr. Freeman, psychological condition, you see it marked right there, ADS. Clerk: It’s not a face diaper, it’s a mask. Doctors wear them all the time, they never have any problems. Me: Oh, but you see, that’s exactly why I didn’t become a brain surgeon. The first time I had to wear one in medical school I had an attack, that’s when I was diagnosed with claustrophobia. They didn’t know about ADS back then. Clerk: What’s ADS? I’ve never heard of it before. Me: Don’t worry, you will, they are popularizing new syndromes all the time. This one’s going to be really huge, my astrologer told me. Clerk: Well I find it offensive when you call a surgical mask a face diaper. Me: That’s because you’re not performing surgery. Clerk: But diapers are for babies. Me: Potato-PoTAto. Where you see a mask, I see a diaper. Can’t you see now what a serious mental condition this is?
