It’s 7 in the morning, and I did not sleep even five minutes. I don’t think I dozed. Which is a problem, because I need to get some stuff done today, including paying work that’s been delayed by all the illnesses since the beginning of the year, and I need to buy at least cat food and litter, since we have the world’s fussiest female waif about both. And, well, you too need to go shopping, I know.
Because– well, you know.
But instead of sleeping like a normal human being, I sat here having stomach pains, because my anger has to go somewhere and went to my stomach.
And no, it’s not any of your fault, though I will make a reference to…. things. It’s … I’m hearing Green Acres at the back of my head. And because we’ve been sick, not everything is in place yet, as it should be. But I have that feeling in the pit of my stomach. Like I’m standing on a very very thin crust of ice.
The reason I have a sick feeling — and again I emphasize it has nothing to do with you, and even if it did it wouldn’t be a recrimination — is that yesterday I went looking through links for insty and holy heck, people.
The right is having a low-key civil war between the hot heads and the “hold on a minute.”
And there’s at least two group blogs — neither mine — having loud “marital” fights in public. in front of the c
hildren commenters, and everything. I’ve never seen anything like this. We’ve had this argument off and on through the ages, but not like this.
So I thought I’d make very clear why I remain a “hold on” and it’s not that I don’t understand you guys. I was ready to go hot Nov. 2020 at the blatant, in your face fraud. I had no clue how or where or when, but I wanted to break heads. And it hasn’t got easier. I haven’t got any less angry. I understand the blinding anger, and the fear we’ll just “take it.” Sometimes, not often, I have that fear. But I doubt it, because people can’t endure the unendurable, and it’s getting there.
So I’m going to try to explain:
First, I think of all of you except those who served, I’m the only one who has been shot at multiple times and not by accident, and also who had machine guns pointed at her and not by accident.
I say this not to pull rank — the only thing it gave me was a certainty that there are things you don’t run from, at the age of 16 — but to try to explain what is mostly a feeling. (Sometimes I think I don’t process things like other people. A lot of it is “I sense” and the sense is usually right, while the rational isn’t.) So bear with me.
You guys are looking at ‘doing something’ (And for the love of Bob, really? Other than glowing, what does it accomplish to declare in public?) as: we go out, we fight, done and dusted, either win or die. (And at least one of you is looking at this as a glorious way to commit suicide. And I don’t know what’s driving it, but would you for the love of all that’s holy just TALK to me?)
Maybe it will all work that way. Who knows? Miracles do happen. I rather doubt it, though. Because this started over a year ago. That’s why there are political prisoners in DC. Heck, I’d argue the entire covidiocy was the first salvo leading up to the color revolution. That was the “active” phase, and it’s been going on A LONG time.
What you have to understand is that every one of the times I got shot at or threatened, I did normal every day things before and after. Like get up and eat breakfast, and get dressed, and take the train, and go home to dinner with my family. It’s not glorious anything. It’s often shocking, and sudden and when you’re least ready.
I’m angry. I’m as angry as you are, but throwing yourself up as a glorious martyr does nothing, except give them a chance at propaganda (which might or might not work) and expend your life. And we might need you later. (Telegraphing it on the net gives you a chance at really committing suicide. Have you guys heard of Signal? Figure it out.)
Unless you’re a trucker, or own a truck, and have NO OTHER OBLIGATIONS and realize exactly what you’re getting into and what might happen, your job right now is to prepare, prepare, prepare. Whatever your station in life, prepare for a year or so of really bad stuff and whatever. (And a year is optimistic. For one because this is global. Canada lit a fuse. When it blows it’s global. The mess will be unimaginable.)
If you are desperate to do something, and the truckers do roll (Seems like they will, but we thought so before) find a way to join and work opsec and figure out when Antifa will attack and/or mingle, and try to have contingencies — without provoking it — for self-defense. Because we’re not Canadians. And because our shitweasels are already calling on the National Guard. That’s a worthy job, and one that will have all the danger you might want, and not pointless.
Danger? Well, remember Jan. 6. And that’s not the worst that might happen. But arguably it’s needed work.
If you’re just being an ant, well, next week we’re all supposed to call in sick, if we can.
Now, obviously — OBVIOUSLY — makes no difference if a lot of us do. I mean, we will just have to make up the work. For those that it does, and who can (because you’re not quietly embedded) DO SO. But be aware it will provoke even more of a reaction, because it will scare the *ssholes trying to be in power. Remember, sane people who aren’t terrified don’t barricade themselves behind barbed wire and national guard units for months because a guy in a buffalo head dress sat at the Speaker’s podium. These people KNOW they don’t have the right to be where they are, and they don’t understand Americans and we TERRIFY THEM.
They are like the other international socialists. Trudescu didn’t pull the world’s stupidest jackboot trick because he’s secure. He pulled it because he’s the kind of guy who sleeps with 13 year olds: insecure and not very bright. And he’s terrified other people can see it. (We can.) And also he’s an evil man and thinks if he doesn’t have power we’ll do to him what he would like to do to us. (Well, you know….. Canadians might after this one.)
So we’re dealing with cornered feral humans who are terrified. Arguably the entire thing from the lockdowns till now is their knowing what’s coming (They see polls you don’t see. 39% approval my sore ass. More likely 9%) And they know how much they cheated, and it wasn’t enough so they had to cheat at the last minute. Oh, and all of them are criminals, steeped deep in horrible crap. And they can’t afford for it to come out. In their little pin heads, they have to keep control.
Only they can’t keep control, because they have no idea how things work. Not even vaguely. And everything they do makes the wheels come off, and smacks them harder.
Look, if our truckers roll and if even a small percentage of them parks for 2 weeks — and the anger I’m seeing out there and as panicked as the junta is, it won’t take two weeks — do you have any idea how many things break? How many industries lose stuff that won’t come back for years, just because of the loss of shipping on time?
And yet, yes, I think they’ll roll. (I also think it’s needed.)
But the left has no idea of that. Nor that truckers are essential to the economy. H*ll the only thing they think is essential is flapping their jaws. I mean, California is — they say — going to replace a nuclear plant with solar. Socialists. Before candles, they used electricity. But oh, they were assured the Earth would burn up — 20 years ago, but never mind — so it’s super-urgent and they must live off “renewables” even though the tech doesn’t work.
This is how their heads work. It’s all posing and preening. They have no bloody clue. In some ways a smart villain would be preferable, though perhaps not to the cause of liberty.
I sense, and I can’t explain it — and because it’s a sense, it means I’m taking in account factors I don’t even know I’m taking in account, which means, yeah, I could be wrong — I sense a high probability it all tips into the pot this week. Maybe next.
I’ve never seen this much anger around. And it’s been many years since I felt that much anger.
If what I sense is right, most of us will be okay, but there will be opportunities for danger aplenty. And for sure there will be a lot of pain and suffering.
Prepare. Prepare. Prepare. You ain’t seen shortages yet. PREPARE. Trust me, as someone who went through shortages, and the wheels coming off: however well you think you’ve prepared, you haven’t. I mean, I forgot the dry catfood SHE likes, and her litter. PREPARE. If you live with someone/are married, gather around and ask “What will we be in trouble without? How much do we have?” Coats? Socks? Underwear (I can make some in a pinch, but yeah. Which reminds me, thread.) SOAP? Shampoo? Tooth paste?Your meds? Ammo?
Yes, you’re angry, and you’re gonna do something. The first thing you’re gonna do is not flap lips in front of G-d and everyone. Seriously. Have all of you lost your minds? Hasn’t a single one of you played chess? Or poker? (Unless of course, you wear polo shirts to work at a tree letter agency, in which case it’s your job, I guess. Perhaps get another one? Some prostitutes retain their self-worth.)
Then prepare, prepare prepare. IN ALL SENSES.
Don’t blackpill yourself, but also don’t go off half cocked. Remember it ain’t over till the fat lady sings.
And I’m not singing.