CNN is running this headline: Alarm Grows Over Trump’s ‘Dictator Moves’ As He Denies Election Defeat: Trump’s administration looks like a tottering regime, with attacks on the military chain of command, a bunker mentality and delusional claims of victory. The New York Times shrills, across their front page, Election Officials Nationwide Find No Fraud!
I remember when people accused me of being a conspiracy theorist for my skepticism of the MSM. It wasn’t that long ago. But as @naval says on Twitter, “There’s no need for conspiracies when incentives will do.”
Remember that time clock story I told, a couple blogs back? I said my boss at the truck school launched a new, draconian, and universally disliked time clock rule. Three strikes and you’re fired, with no room for interpretation because it was digitally stamped. And I mean it was like, if I didn’t fire someone after three strikes, they’d fire me. There was no wiggle room.
It seemed really harsh, for a small business struggling to attract and maintain quality employees anyway, despite sensationally low pay. But my boss said, “No — this is how you weed out the pieces of shit that you’d *otherwise* have to fire for harassment, attitude, hostile workplace, any number of stickier problems, and then they’d turn around and sue us. The good ones will figure out how to clock in on time, and the bad ones won’t, and it gives you a nice, clean grounds for termination. You don’t even have to get your hands dirty.”
He was right, it worked exactly that way, and right now I’m feeling in awe of the Trump administration, which is not and never has been a “presidency” per se — it’s a military intelligence operation. Always has been. Is there a global satanic cabal harvesting and distributing adrenochrome? Does the nepotism in both political parties, plus Hollywood, plus big tech, plus the ganglion European royal family, plus the Catholic church, plus god knows what else, go all the way back to the Rothschilds and the Rockefellers, the Illuminati, blah blah blah?
Who knows, and now who cares — Trump just got those motherfuckers on a time clock infraction. Election fraud!! How mundane!! It’s so clean. It’s so objectively verifiable. So many people are going to jail. So [clap] many [clap] people [clap].
We were all sitting on the lanai last night, laughing — I mean genuinely gut-laughing — about the ridiculous antics of the MSM right now. For instance: USPS whistle-blower Richard Hopkins comes out and, you know, blows the whistle. Big problem.
The Washington Post runs a big sensational story that they interviewed Richard and he recanted. Problem solved!
Except, Richard Hopkins simply tweets a video of himself saying, “Um, no, assholes, I do not recant, never have recanted, I stand by the original blowing of my whistle,” which goes viral.
The Washington Post is like: Pikachu! How could we have ever predicted such a thing!?
I don’t know, how could they? Just like the entire Dem party or cabal or Deep State or whatever the shit this is. They fraudulenize an entire election by essentially taking wheelbarrows of fake ballots to the polls at like 4am, shit flying everywhere in the wind, and now they’re like: OMG HE’S ONTO US. HOW COULD WE HAVE KNOW. HOW DID OUR PERFECT PLAN FAIL??
Because your plan was fucking retarded!!! My god! So yes, we were all having a good belly laugh about it on the lanai. I mean, by the time we’ve arrived at the point in the plot where the Washington Post is trying to fix things by strong-arming a random postal worker, who foils their plot by simply using an internet connection…I mean, it’s like they’ve been taking their own drugs. They’ve been telling us for years, Trump is stupid, Trump is a buffoon, Trump messes up everything, Trump is a bumbling idiot, etc. But it’s like they got psy-op’d by their own damn psy-op. He’s not actually stupid — and wasn’t that the whole point of creating this big smear campaign? The fact that he’s not easily fooled, and in fact is SO not easily fooled that he’s taken it upon himself, in coordination with god knows what military and intelligence allies, to veer all the way over into this presidential lane, to kick some ass and chew some gum, but he’s perpetually all out of gum, and he’s draining the swamp, and the swamp fabricates a huge lie to discredit him, and then they’re dumb enough to believe it half the time. My GOD.
The RNC Chair says eleven thousand people have come forward with voter fraud claims, so far, and I tell you what — I would be turning myself in so hard, right now. The magnitude of the legal action that’s about to be taken is difficult to imagine.
Anyway, doesn’t bode well. The only possible retaliation now, since Trump discovered the wheelbarrows full of 200 year old people’s votes, against all odds, is some combination of an actual deadly virus, an Antifa-coordinated attempt at insurrection (which probably won’t go well either, based on Mark Esper recent shit-canning, who opposed invocation of the Insurrection Act), some combination of the two which seems less likely than a combination of insurrection plus more same old hyped-up Rona, or something like actually forcing everyone to take the vaccine, which would be the end of humans and the beginning of sentient, like, cryptocurrency or something. I don’t think they have the muscle for that play — that’s why they needed the presidency, and were willing to do really stupid shit to get it. But I think it would be naive to assume they’re out of cards now. The last few cards they’re holding cannot be good news.
That’s what makes yesterday’s #ohshitfuck on-camera snafu so extra funny, but also kind of poignant.
A group of hackers in the Pacific Northwest tempted Antifa with free wifi connections, over the last 2 months, in order to covertly track and map the patterns of their communications. These efforts resulted in lovely, colorful, obviously highly organized patterns of exchange, including in some cases the names of field commanders. Antifa was incredibly sloppy with their comsec and infosec, according to the hackers. I mean, Antifa is mostly comprised of millennials, so just offer them free wifi and you can lead them by the nose, I guess.
Anyway, I would show you these lovely patterns but the Twitter account that exposed the project got suspended sometime between when I went to bed and when I woke up. They had tagged in Portland PD for what it’s worth, but their leadership is probably in on it. There’s always a corrupt police commissioner laying around — that’s what I learned from LA Confidential, anyway.
This is a crazy time to be alive and to be an American, I tell you what. It’s a time of the culmination of competing carefully laid plans. I continue to feel personally alienated by what passes for the liberal mindset and liberal patterns of communication. It seems disorganized, and to mistake its own emotion for objective reality, almost as a rule. This is odd for me, because I’ve historically identified with liberalism — classically I still do, I think? — and I’ve always argued that the emotions are too often an unacknowledged aspect of our insight process. But always in the sense of the emotions AS indicators, helpfully guiding our intellect into better and more encompassing belief systems — never as a means to cripple or castrate the intellect.
Speaking of, I’ve made a girlfriend here in Hawaii, already! Haley. She’s a gorgeous woman, a wife and mother of two, with an adorable Southeastern accent and an amazing degree of overlap with my own sentiments and values, which I guess I’d call “conservative”. How did you get red pilled?, I asked her, the other day. She brought her kids over to play in our pool, and my god — they played and played! I think the water’s a bit too cold for long-term immersion; I tend to flip flop between pool and sun, for max enjoyment. But you know how kids love water. It was such a nice visit.
She said it started by researching vaccines, and becoming skeptical of them. Her older child was…maybe not “vaccine injured” per se, but seemed to experience a developmental stasis or slow-down, for some time after a series of vaccinations, and she took a deep dive. Her younger child is unvaccinated and supremely healthy, and the older boy has recovered and is just as bright and shiny a child as there ever was.
And I think her answer is really insightful, because you only have to become truly skeptical of one thing, one real thing, in order to blink and reframe the rest of it, whether you wanted to or not. As I’ve said before, I believe early vegetarianism was my red pill, before that phase even existed. If ever there’s one area — any area — where circumstances force you to consult to your own judgement in the face of a dominant and very muscular narrative to the contrary, and you must admit the evidence of your own senses as the only rational conclusion, then you’re forced to confront the next logical implication: there’s simply no need for conspiracies when incentives will do. It’s an integrity maneuver, and where it’s intuitively accomplished in any area, it can then be applied to other areas.
And then the next implication after that becomes unavoidable: this — ALL this — is not, actually, for our own good. And it’s not as if anyone walks around consciously looking at processed food items on the grocery store shelf, or the talking heads on TV, or a letter from the IRS, or any other thing, thinking to themselves, “This is for my own good. This is for my own good.” And yet, the red-pilling wouldn’t be so traumatic, and wouldn’t tend to alienate us from our previously comfortable relationships, if some previously default-acquiescing program hadn’t been running in the background. One begins, almost against one’s own better judgement, to ask this question: is it ineptitude, or malign intention? The catastrophe of American public schooling: ineptitude, or malign intention? The catastrophe of American health and healthcare: ineptitude, or malign intention? The climate of navel-gazing, alcoholic stupidity invisibly encouraged by our TV, our radio, our media, our cinema: ineptitude, or malign intention? One begins to suspect the presence of, for lack of a better term, a matrix. A coordinated, manufactured reality-climate.
The integrity maneuver required to blink, reframe, and finally “see” this matrix is not difficult, by any means — certainly less difficult than believing so much hogwash — but that’s why there’s this tendency for red-pilled folks to apply the term “sheeple” to the sleepwalking masses. All an awakening requires is to be willing to acknowledge as real the evidence of one’s own intellect, one’s own five senses, AT THE EXPENSE OF comfortable synchronization with the collective.
That’s it. Sounds easy, right? But it’s not. In simplest terms, it is this: choosing whether to experience the discomfort of a reality mismatch inside, or outside, your own brain. The “sheeple” — and I kind of hate that term, but it’s becoming unavoidable — are sheeple because they aren’t willing to unhook from the collective story and “seem crazy”, no matter how much evidence they encounter. For them, it’s just too uncomfortable. And it is uncomfortable. But for us, the cognitive dissonance is what’s too uncomfortable, and we’ll bootstrap ourselves over into whatever camp, openly or apologetically, overtly or covertly, any way we have to, in order to retain a sense of internal cohesion, however that puts us at odds with the world.
So, I get it. I would just never throw myself under the bus like that. I don’t value my connections in the world enough to preserve them by dismantling myself on the inside.
And like I’ve always said — it’s dangerous, when everyone disagrees with us? But it’s significantly more dangerous when everyone agrees with us. Consensus must never be mistaken for evidence. A lot of people have earnestly believed a lot of stupid shit, over the centuries. We can laugh about it all we want, now, but guess what: the people perpetuating today’s matrix are infinitely more savvy and subtle than ever before. For all our sophistication, we are infinitely more vulnerable to influence now.
I mean it used to be, they just ride up to your carriage and ask you: are you Protestant or Catholic? And you were like: oh shit — a lot depends on my answer right now. And if you said the wrong one, they’d just up and slaughter you, but if you said the right one, you were good for at least another week, until it went back the other way again. That was good old fashioned leverage. Do what we say or we’ll kill you.
Today, we should be so lucky. Today, it’s all marketing, gaslighting, brainwashing, soft-selling, used car lot tactics. Would you like a red car or a blue car? That’s why this big tech censorship has made the Billboard 100 for 2020’s greatest bullshit. The whole fucking interconnected lie depends NOT on you being faced with the alternative truth and choosing the lie, but instead on you never ever ever ever ever encountering any image, any video, any audio, any influence whatsoever, that breaks the spell. Your suspension of disbelief must be total, in order for you to not notice that you’ve suspended your disbelief.
We all know how that goes — you’re watching a movie and you’re into it, you don’t even realize how into it you are because you’re that into it — and all of the sudden, some dumb shit happens. It’s just a tiny bit dumb — it’s just for a moment. It’s just, maybe, a trope you’ve seen one too many times. The grieving person kneeling over the suddenly dead person’s body, crying for a couple minutes, and then raising their face up to the sky (possibly with some rain falling down, amiright), and screaming NOOOOOOOOOOOO. Or maybe it’s, idk, a really tense moment, a big final face off between forces of good and evil, and one of the writers simply couldn’t help himself and HAD to insert a one-liner. Because you know they can never help themselves. In the middle of sword fighting or being roasted alive or trying to regain control of a crashing airplane or whatever, the good guy says, “Looks like your goose is cooked,” and, fuck, you just lose it. You lose your suspension of disbelief, you’re kicked out of the movie reality, you realize it’s just a movie and they’re just actors, they’re probably all fucking each other off-screen, and frankly it kind of sucks.
And that, my friends, is why big tech censorship is such an important, but miserably failing, chart topper on the 2020 Billboard list. The matrix is a sinking fucking ship, okay? It’s doomed, it’s rotten, it’s going down in flames like the Hindenburg. It’s over. It’s been over. You’re gonna feel pretty silly, pretty soon, for having stayed onboard as long as you did, if you’re still onboard. You know those social media posts that they gray out, and it’s fact checked, and instead of showing you the thing, it helpfully guides you to a site that powders your ass and offers you a Capri Sun, and even puts the straw in for you?
The Deep State, high stakes game of whack-a-mole, where disbelief is the mole, and censorship of anything and everything that makes actual fucking sense is the whack, has become desperate, sad, and ultimately futile. I mean, come on: the Washington Post thinks it can whack-a-mole USPS whistle-blower Richard Hopkins back into submission? Plus the other eleven thousand-and-counting? Get a new schtick, you sad fucking hacks. You’ll have the rest of your lives in prison to figure it out, or ten years at least.
So that’s what I think about all that.
Philosophically, though, and despite my use of irrepressible f-bombs and extremely offensive terms like “sheeple”, I submit these ideas to you as someone who is evolving too, and who hasn’t seen the forest for the trees on many occasions past, and no doubt some continuing occasions currently. Recent blog feedback has included sentiments such as, “Well who the fuck do you think you are, you don’t know anything,” and that’s right. I don’t know anything, but I suspect quite a lot, and my invitation to others who think they know more and know better remains the same: out-create me. Say what you think is true. Ain’t no harm in it, and it’s still a free country. You same matrix-apologists have been telling me, for forty years now, that we have to eat animals to live and, therefore, animals don’t feel feelings, or only the dogs and cats feel feelings but not the cows, pigs, and chickens, and you know what? Make sense or just stop. Just stop and ask yourself why you’re not making any sense. And write a blog of your own, or continue to lurk around on mine and have your sensitivities inflamed. But whether you appreciate it or not, my blog is not the place to come and have your Capri Sun straw inserted for you.
Much love and alertness, today, my wonderful tribe.