😂😂😘
*** Americans Disappointed To Learn Biden Presidency Not An April Fool’s Prank – via babylonbee.com U.S. – Americans were deeply disappointed upon learning today that the Biden presidency was not, in fact, an elaborate April Fool’s joke. “I was still holding out hope this was all a sick, twisted prank,” said South Carolina man Denny […]
April Fools — Dispatches from the Asylum
Thank you Ma’am! ~KH
The Armenian Genocide was not a mistake.
Holodomor was not a mistake.
The Final Solution was not a mistake.
The Great Leap Forward was not a mistake.
The Killing Fields were not a mistake.
Name your genocide—it was not a mistake.
That includes the Great Democide of the 2020s.
To imply otherwise is to give Them the out they are seeking.
It was not botched.
It was not bungled.
It was not a blunder.
It was not incompetence.
It was not lack of knowledge.
It was not spontaneous mass hysteria.
The planning occurred in plain sight.
The planning is still occurring in plain sight.
The philanthropaths bought The $cience™.
The modelers projected the lies.
The testers concocted the crisis.
The NGOs leased the academics.
The $cientists fabricated the findings.
The mouthpieces spewed the talking points.
The organizations declared the emergency.
The governments erected the walls.
The departments rewrote the rules.
The governors quashed the rights.
The politicians passed the laws.
The bankers installed the control grid.
The stooges laundered the money.
The DoD placed the orders.
The corporations fulfilled the contracts.
The regulators approved the solution.
The laws shielded the contractors.
The agencies ignored the signals.
The behemoths consolidated the media.
The psychologists crafted the messaging.
The propagandists chanted the slogans.
The fact-chokers smeared the dissidents.
The censors silenced the questioners.
The jackboots stomped the dissenters.
The tyrants summoned.
The puppeteers jerked.
The puppets danced.
The colluders implemented.
The doctors ordered.
The hospitals administered.
The menticiders scripted.
The bamboozled bleated.
The totalitarianized bullied.
The Covidians tattled.
The parents surrendered.
The good citizens believed … and forgot.
This was calculated.
This was formulated.
This was focus-grouped.
This was articulated.
This was manufactured.
This was falsified.
This was coerced.
This was inflicted.
This was denied.
We were terrorized.
We were isolated.
We were gaslit.
We were dehumanized.
We were wounded.
We were killed.
Don’t let Them get away with it.
Don’t let Them get away with it.
Don’t let Them get away with it.
The global coup d’etat lock-step-two-step is right on track. The Great Reset, like the Great Awakening, is probably not what you think. That is, if you are thinking at all.
You are on board. I am on board. Even as I-We work against it. We are all, if we are opposing at all, controlled opposition. Every single one of us, from the top-tier to the bottom rung.
Do you think the threat of Technocracy is real? Which is more real, in your opinion, the threat of the virus, or the vaccine? Are we dealing with Mass Formation Psychosis, or demon worship? Are you rooting for higher consciousness? Jesus’ return? Freedom and Democracy shall triumph over Global Totalitarianism?
Did you think about the Ukraine yesterday? Did the Brazil capital riots cross your newsfeed today? Did you read about the latest teen suicides in China? The farmers in Uruguay? The Black Nobility at the Vatican? The Phoenicians, The Atlantans, The 1%, The Science, The Metaverse? Social-Emotional Learning (SEL)? Environmental Social Governance (ESG)?
How much time did you spend on lives other than your own?
Do you believe in the depopulation agenda? Do you think that’s a conspiracy theory? Do you think there’s a conspiracy to manufacture conspiracy theories?
What’s the end game?
What do you think they really mean when they say, “Make the world safe for democracy?”
Where does Enlightenment fit into their plan?
How would Global Enlightened Democracy feel to you?
This is just for fun! It’s a game I used to play on occasion with advanced students and at small gatherings. (Yes, I’m usually ‘that girl’ at parties!) 😜
I love it because the players were often surprised with the interpretation and I find it meaningful in getting to know someone. If you’d like to play, just write your answers in the comments and if there are a few players here I will then tell you the interpretation. (If you already know this game, please don’t spoil it by sharing the meaning!). It’s not exactly conducive to an online space, but let’s give it a try anyway, whoever would like.
This may take a few days, if anyone even plays along. If so, I’ll share my answers as well, which haven’t changed and applies now more than ever, three decades after first playing!
Here’s the setup:
So, you’ve been in a terrible accident, and are unfortunately dead. It’s all the more unfortunate because it was a big mistake and God feels terrible about it. As you meet him at the pearly gates he shakes his head awkwardly and apologizes profusely.
He wants to send you back to Earth, and you want to go back, but he patiently explains the problem with this. He is all out of human bodies to incarnate back into, so you’ve got to choose an animal.
And because this is going to look really bad on his record, and he needs to save face, he asks if you could also please give at least two reasons why you choose this particular animal. You are of course annoyed by this, but you agree, since it’s God and all, and you have no other choice.
So, you can choose any animal you want, but you must also include at least 2 reasons why. Do that now, and then return with your request.
When you come back with your request, God looks very disappointed. He shakes his head grimly and says, “I was hoping you wouldn’t choose that one! Damn, my bad once again! That’s the only one we don’t have available.”
He seems honestly upset, so you agree to choose another one. Of course, it sucks not to get your first choice, and you put a lot of thought into that, but, what can you do.
Please choose another animal, along with at least 2 reasons why, now.
Here’s an optional song to listen to while you think, if you like. Randomly chosen by me just because I love it.
So, you give it considerable thought and you go back to God with your 2nd choice. And, guess what. He looks grim, again. He says, “I just can’t believe this. This is really not our day. We just ran out of those!”
And you know what he wants. Yup, a 3rd choice. And this is really going to take a minute, because, well, the 2nd one was hard enough, wasn’t it?! After all, you can’t just pick any one off the top of your head, because he insists on knowing why.
So, for the 3rd time you put your mind to it, and think of another animal you’ll go back as, with at least 2 reasons why.
Here’s some music to keep you company, if you like.
Finally, you hand your 3rd request to God, and he smiles. “That’s the one for you alright, excellent choice!”
And so it is . . .
I’d love to hear what your choices are and why, if you care to share them in the comments! Then check back for what this is all supposed to mean. 🤗
Thanks for playin’!
The curiosity is killing me!
I must appeal to the precious few—do y’all have any clues?!
I saw these two bizarre emerging ‘eggs’ two days ago while mushroom hunting. Today I took a few photos, they are more exposed than when I first saw them. The whiteish surface is kinda slimy.
Any expertise out there, or just some random guesses??
A cyber-pal wrote to me today that she is finding it tough to find joy in her current circumstances. She is working long hours against the dystopian nightmare that continues relentlessly in her state.
There are many such silent heroes out there and a few of them (I know) read our wee blog.
Two little pieces of joy we are sending your way! With a big THANKS for all you are doing.
We should say so more often.
It takes a (global) Village. 😘
How to get beyond the 2-party divide, the ‘lesser of two evils’ voting system, the black and white thinking? I don’t know!
Maybe, of course it’s just a start, but at least we could make the duality-duel about the right people?
Public Service Announcement:
It’s Not Hypocrisy, You’re Just PowerlessHello Friend,
N.S. Lyons
I saw your post on the interweb the other day about that nasty thing Team A did, even though they always completely lose their collective mind with moralistic outrage if Team B (which I understand is your team) even thoughtcrimes about doing something similar. In fact Team A seems to blatantly do things all the time that no one on Team B could ever get away with doing without being universally condemned as the absolute worst sort of immoral criminal/being openly threatened with mob violence/losing their livelihood/having their assets frozen/being rounded up by the state and shipped to a black site somewhere for some extended TLC.
Maybe the latest thing was breaking some very important public health rules, or pillaging and burning down government buildings for fun, or mean tweets, or polluting the planet with a private jet, or using allegedly neutral public institutions against political opponents, or just engaging in a little tax-dodging or corruption while doing, like, a ton of blow in a hotel room with some capital city hookers – I forget the specifics. In fact I forget what country you’re even living in now days.
But I did see that slick video you posted on how just pointing out “imagine if someone on Team B did this!” is all it takes to blow the lid off this glaring hypocrisy, thus totally destroying Team A with facts and logic. I’ve noticed you posting a lot of things like this, which is nice, since they are very witty and produce a pleasant buzz of smug superiority, even though this feeling never lasts very long.
However, I suddenly realized that you may not be in on the joke, so to speak, so I figured I’d write this short PSA to help explain what “hypocrisy” in politics actually is, just in case you didn’t know and had been fooled into seriously trying to benefit Team B with your comparative memes.
You see, it’s possible you are under the misapprehension that you are not supposed to notice what you described as the “double-standard” in acceptable behavior between Team A and Team B. And that you think if you point out this double-standard, you are foiling the other team’s plot and holding them accountable. This might be because, in your mind, you are still in high school debate club, where if you finger your opponent for having violated the evenly-applied rules a neutral arbiter of acceptable behavior will recognize this unfairness and penalize them with demerits.
Except in reality you are not holding Team A accountable, and in fact are notably never able to hold them accountable for anything at all. Even though Team A gets to hold you accountable for everything and anything whenever they want. This is because unfortunately there is no neutral arbiter listening to your whining. In fact, currently the only arbiter is Team A, because Team A has consolidated all the power to decide the rules, and to enforce or not enforce those rules as they see fit.
As some dead American white male once said, “The essence of Government is power; and power, lodged as it must be in human hands, will ever be liable to abuse.” And if you remember there once being a more equal, neutral standard for both teams in the past, that probably wasn’t because either team was nicer back then, or was more constrained by some higher power within or above the system – there was just a more equal balance of power between them, and therefore they could both hold each other accountable by punishing the other if it strayed too far from “the rules” written down on a scrap of paper somewhere.
Today, however, Team A is not operating on remotely the same level as Team B. And your biggest misunderstanding may be that you think Team A doesn’t want Team B to recognize this fact and point it out for the whole world to see. Yes there is a separate-and-not-equal standard for Team A, and this is no accident. Yes there are two different tiers of acceptable behavior; two tiers of justice; two tiers of citizen.
In fact, there is no “Team A” or “Team B,” only Class A and Class B.
And Class A really wants everyone, especially Class B, to understand this, because they think Class B seriously needs to get the message and accept its place in the order of things. Class B is on the bottom, where it belongs. Class A is on top, and a more lenient standard is a privilege reserved for them, by virtue of their natural moral/educational/economic/aesthetic superiority and consequent rightful dominance. If Class B does not enjoy this discipline, they should strive to clean up their dirty, stupid, wicked ways and someday become part of Class A.
Friend, you are not in high school debate club anymore. You are a peasant in feudal Japan, and every day the Samurai get to denigrate, abuse, and rough up your kind as much as they want. But if you ever talk back to a samurai, let alone try to do a little roughing up of your own, you will be beheaded on the spot. And far from being punished for this, the samurai who does it will be praised for doing his duty, since uppity peasants are dangerous and immoral and need to be dealt with at once, before they threaten the established social hierarchy. That samurai is just protecting democracy the Shogunate. Pointing out the hierarchy of the social order as a peasant will be met only with a nod of approval: “yes, that is how it is, it’s good that now you finally understand.”
“Hypocrisy,” I hope you now see, is simply a display of power, so the more blatant it is the better. Hypocrisy is a concrete demonstration of living without having to fear consequences. And Class A loves it when Class B notices this and whines about it, because complaining about hypocrisy is just another way of saying “Class A is higher status than me,” and “I am the loser.” That’s the joke.
Much like the Great Khan, Class A has decided the greatest happiness in life is to crush its class enemies, see them driven before it, and hear the lamentations of their pundits.
Fundamentally, Class A believes the purpose of power is to reward its friends and punish its enemies. Which is what it does. That way it can keep its enemies down at the same time as it attracts more friends by offering great perks for class membership. And as a controversial Arab thought-leader once said: everyone prefers a strong horse to a weak horse.
If you, Class B serf, do not enjoy this arrangement, your lamentations about hypocrisy will not change it, no matter how loud and shrill. Only taking back control of the levers of power and then using that power to strike the fear of accountability into the hearts of your ruling class will ever be able to do that.
Sharing a bold buffet of links and quotes, just because. In case you might be bored and/or in need of new material.
“It’s better to be exploited than be useless.”
Dare to differ? And who are you to disagree??
“In any event, I definitely feel like some kind of indigenous, gender-indeterminate, non-binary, African-American woman with an incurable-but-treatable emotional disability trapped in the body of a farty old white man.
Fortunately, there’s an ever-expanding range of pharmaceutical and surgical solutions for this. I’ll be looking into some of those shortly. For example, although I’m well past child-bearing age, given the fact that I’m now a woman, I could get a womb transplant and become a “birthing person.” I could birth my very own indigenous, pan-gendered, Jewish-African-American baby and chest-feed it unsweetened soy milk on TikTok! Or I could have my genitalia removed and get a full-body skin transplant! And, of course, there’s no shortage of pharmaceutical products to treat my emotional disability, or my chemical imbalance, or idiopathic dysphoria, or whatever I eventually decide it is.”
“The hookah lounge was barren. The hostess was shocked to see me and the hookah-master was aloof as I selected the blend of tobacco that I would smoke from a hollowed-out grapefruit. I felt it was my duty to order a Corona with lime, so that’s exactly what I did.
And then I got out my laptop and began to type:MOSCOW – Despite the stubborn March cold, heroic young ladies in the Russian capital have already shortened (one might say improved) their skirts by at least 15 centimeters. Surely this should give us all confidence to carry on, even as the pillars of western civilization melt away like the last winter frost. What on earth happened, anyway? […]
Fear and mindless acquiescence has gripped the western world, and there’s simply no going back. Cultural, political, spiritual and economic suicide are all around the corner. Maybe even a fun little war. […]
Predicting what comes next is easy – just try to imagine the worst possible scenario. Now multiply that by a factor of ten. Your outlook is still too rosy, but optimism is only human. Signed: Edward Slavsquat, an American in self-exile in Russia who sometimes writes things on the internet.”
You know you’re getting old when someone replies to you, “So, what’s your point?” And your reply back is, “Why must there always be a point?”
Hence this post. I find increasingly I have no point, I just feel like writing something.
Santa Schwab decided one day a couple of decades ago that the globe needed to be more resilient. Is this because he is so concerned about the folk of the future? Does he use his vast wealth and influence to care for others in the here and now?
No. The future is more important than the now to the World Economic Forum class. They have triumphed over the now, the future is their next hurdle. The now is merely a tool of seduction for them in order to get those unhappy with the now (mostly because of them) to join them in their version of the future. Utopians are always scammers.
Why always lemonade? I’d like to ask them. Why are we always expected to take the lemons of life and make lemonade with them? What about vinegar and kombucha and cleaning products, and all the other practical uses of lemons?
Which brings me to why I don’t prescribe to certain popular New Age ideas even though I rarely meet a conspiracy theory I don’t like.
Conspirituality. Did you know that’s a thing? They’ve got academic papers on it, probably even a course by now.
“Everything that rises must converge.” It’s now attributed to New Ager Tielhard de Chardin, even though we were taught in school it was Flannery O’Connor who said it. They just change what’s written on the barnyard wall for the sake of the future.
Tielhard de Chardin is the supreme goofball who has called for robots to replace Jesus.
(Clip: Ilia Delio on a 2015 Tielhard De Chardin panel at Georgetown on AI hivemind and Ultra-Humanism)
I think these folks have way too much time on their hands. Idle hands are the devil’s playground. Why is it that folks with nothing to do are obsessed with controlling the future as well as the present lives of everyone else? Didn’t we used to equate this with being a busy-body? Didn’t they used to tell such pretentious and presumptuous nincompoops to mind their own beeswax? Aren’t there some starving children in Manhattan they might busy themselves with instead?
Not enough glamor in that, I expect.
What is this so-called ‘Great Awakening’ we’ve been subjected to online for a decade, at least? Is it a close relative of Santa Schwab’s ‘Great Reset’? Anytime the myth-makers stick the ‘Great’ on something, you can be damn sure the only thing great about it is the level of con involved.
Why do these clowns think they can run the world when they can’t even create a decent village? Would that not be a better starting point? Aren’t they the ones who love their hierarchies so much? Start at the bottom then dudes, prove you can run a fucking village for a decade or so, then set your sites up the ladder.
Are the ‘powers that shouldn’t be’ hiding our ‘limitless potential’ from us in order to keep us debt and wage slaves in their Matrix? Is robot Jesus coming to lead us all to salvation?
Inquiring minds want to know!
But they are mostly looking in all the wrong places.
The scent assault sums it up. It’s not spirits from the afterlife or your bad karma, it’s all around you though, in ways you aren’t thinking to look.
Because you must stop looking and sniff them out instead.
Of all the senses Scientism recognizes, the sense of smell is the most primordial and the most powerful. Proust’s madeleines are the key to what the vast majority of ‘liberty lovers’ and ‘rebels’ and ‘red pilled’ seem to be totally missing.
Walking down the aisles of the local Hobby Lobby, the grocery store, the thrift shop, even the church bathroom, I am SHOCKED at the artificial smells that penetrate so deeply it’s worse than a Spanish dive bar. Not only do I need to shower after such scent assaults, but also still have clothes that reek, requiring immediate soaking. Hubby’s smells of machine oil and solvents are actually preferable. Not that I’d want any of them in my house!
A neighbor once hugged me in the driveway and her fragrance lingered on my clothes so long I had to change. She complains of constant migraines.
These smells are killing you. I would say ‘us’ but we know better here than to bath in them all day and become nose-blind to their toxicity. I get nauseated in the candle aisle of Hobby Lobby and I intend for it to stay that way. To desensitize yourself from natural aromas is to become addicted to fast food, and I’m not kidding!
Desensitizing yourself to anything is dangerous.
Scents equal cents minus sense?
I’m surprised there’s not more satirists cracking more whips when these Santa-types go on and on about how concerned they are for nature. In the proper order of things a dozen satirists would be famous on such content. Nature to these asshats equates to the view from their mansions and better hunting on their safaris.
Do you think they use Febreeze?
We hear talk of pheromones, and of course aromatherapy and now coming on board is sound therapy. Always therapies.
Because of the scent and sound assaults. The ones right under our conscious radar. The ones we are bombarded with by civilization, mostly. And turds like Santa Schwab. And then given ‘therapies’ to cure the ills they cause.
What do you smell when you walk into the grocery store? Does it smell delicious? I doubt it, unless you go to some gourmet place that doesn’t even exist in these here parts. Here they smell nothing like food, more like a hospital trying to cover any smells that might get confused with something actually coming from nature.
What happens in the minds of those who become ‘nose-blind’?
In French they use the same verb for ‘to smell’ and ‘to feel’, simply making it ‘reflexive’ — je sens or je me sens — that’s how close these senses are.
My grandparents traveled in the their later years with the kind of tour groups that got a bad reputation around Europe for being entitled and obstinate. They loved it. They brought us home loads of gifts and it was my first taste of ‘foreign affairs’ that led to a couple decades of travel myself. I loved it.
One year they brought us home Christmas gifts from their tour of Soviet Russia. We got the usual souvenirs—the nesting dolls and some sweets I’m sure—I don’t remember much else except the piece of jewelry, maybe a ring? The ring, or whatever it was in that little box is long gone, but the memory of the smell I will never forget.
The whole scene that Christmas comes back instantly when I remember that smell. I made my appropriate oohs and aahs and requisite words of gratitude and was putting the gift in the pile of already opened gifts when Grandpa stopped me and said with a grin: “Smell it!”
I was very confused. Smell the ring? The box? I looked at him with a lot of hesitation, because he was, albeit a very generous man, also sometimes something of a scary one. Whatever was being commanded to me at that moment I did not want to mess up.
“Yes!” he insisted, now almost laughing, “Smell it!”
So I took a giant inhale with the box at my nose and nearly gagged, very literally.
Grandpa ROARED with laughter.
I thought he’d played a trick on me. My first reaction was one of suspicion. No surprise there. I nearly got angry (which always made him crack up) before he urged all the females of the family who had received similar boxes to smell theirs also.
Pretty soon we were all looking at him with various expressions from ‘How odd?’ to ‘WTF?’
Body odor, plain and simple. To a degree so severe that it curled my nostrils and nearly made me gag. It was the unmistakable stench of an unwashed man on the tram in the dead of summer. And somehow still clinging to the fabric of these boxes after purchase, suitcase, wrapping, and months in the top of the closet.
“But this is impossible!” “What did you DO to them all?” I gasped, still certain this was some practical joke of his.
He shook his head, still smiling. “Everything smells like that there,” he said, “Everything.”
I couldn’t believe it. No! How?! Why?!
He didn’t have those answers, apparently the gift shops and tour guides don’t offer such advisories in their brochures and he didn’t dare ask. (So much for the rude and loud Americans when it really matters.). He could only surmise that this is some sort of scented cleaner and sanitizer that they use on absolutely everything and everywhere in Soviet Russia.
About a decade later I traveled through Russia on my way to Finland in an old Soviet train. It smelled pretty bad, but nothing like that. More like stale urine.
The Soviet ring box body odor assault was leaps more tolerable than that of the stale urine or the Hobby Lobby candle aisle.
See, so there was a point in there. Or two. I think.
Ô Muse ! spectre insatiable,
Ne m’en demande pas si long.
L’homme n’écrit rien sur le sable
À l’heure où passe l’aquilon.
J’ai vu le temps où ma jeunesse
Sur mes lèvres était sans cesse
Prête à chanter comme un oiseau ;
Mais j’ai souffert un dur martyre,
Et le moins que j’en pourrais dire,
Si je l’essayais sur ma lyre,
La briserait comme un roseau.
‘La Nuit de Mai’
Alfred de Musset
La nuit de mai, poème d’Alfred de Musset – poetica.fr
O voice from the abysmal deeps,
Lay not on me this last command!
Man leaves no writing on the sand
When at its hour the north-wind sweeps.
There was a time when love, in sooth,
Rose ceaseless on my lips, and youth
Was ready, like a bird, to sing;
But I have suffered, as through fire,
And should my silent griefs desire
To speak their anguish on my lyre
Their lightest breath would break the string.
The Night in May | RPO
It’s been a couple of weeks already but I haven’t been able to bring myself to write about it. Just a couple weeks before Papi died and that was sad enough, but to lose them both, and so close together, has been sad beyond words.
Of course all creatures are special, but she was our miracle. She was a Mastiff/Dane mix, already an odd combination. Her mother died just a couple days after delivery and her owners worked very quickly to find homes for all the pups, thirteen of them.
She was just a few pounds when we got her. We had no idea about bottle-feeding or ’manual pooping’ but we learned quickly! She belonged here in every way, she foraged and hunted and blended in with the surroundings so perfectly. She was trained as my protector, but she became one of my greatest joys in life.
It will be a very long time before we don’t tear-up every time we think of her, maybe forever.
