Narrative inception

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I think Twitter is a wonderful platform, on the whole, for the exchange and debate of ideas. But its real world influence cannot be denied. The Narrative* is spread like a virus on this platform, infecting and influencing those here in the real-world tasked with making decisions that affect the lives of millions.  The narrative shapers are investing millions, if not billions, on steering the narrative on this platform. The illusion of consent is created here, resulting in decisions that would otherwise draw no popular support.

Breast and cervical cancer screenings are down by over 80% over the past year

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87% for breast cancer, 84% for cervical. As a result, cancer will skyrocket in the coming years, having gone undetected when it was treatable.

Stories like this really confirm and solidify the misanthropy I’ve distilled into a complex philosophical system over the past year. Many warned that a panicked over-reaction, lockdowns, state-sanctioned hysteria, et cetera, would have dire consequences, including the horror of undiagnosed illness. I warned of it, others warned of it. We all wrote and published articles that foretold what the consequences would be. It didn’t take any kind of clairvoyance at all, just common sense. No one listened or cared enough to stop it before it could really create lasting damage. People behaved like cattle; less than cattle even. Drones, acolytes of a new religion. They wore their masks, remained quiet when their local health department assumed almost total control of the functioning of our day-to-day lives. This was the most devastating and vulgar violation of liberty and human rights that we’ve ever lived through, and it was allowed to happen with almost no objection. And now we’re witnessing the entirely predicted consequences unfurl before us. Knowing what we know now, we must really contend with our capacity for stupidity. Deadly, suicidal stupidity. An inability to think, an absolute abrogation of our duty as the animal gifted with this most miraculous product of evolution: our mind.

“Fiery the angels rose, and as they rose deep thunder roll’d, indignant burning with the fires of Orc”

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Excerpts from William Blake’s 1793 poem depicting the volcanic birth of American independence through revolution. “Orc” refers to the thirteen American colonies:

Fiery the Angels rose, & as they rose deep thunder roll’d

Around their shores: indignant burning with the fires of Orc
And Bostons Angel cried aloud as they flew thro’ the dark night.

In the flames stood & view’d the armies drawn out in the sky

Washington Franklin Paine & Warren Allen Gates & Lee:
And heard the voice of Albions Angel give the thunderous command:
His plagues obedient to his voice flew forth out of their clouds
Falling upon America, as a storm to cut them off
As a blight cuts the tender corn when it begins to appear.
Dark is the heaven above, & cold & hard the earth beneath;
And as a plague wind fill’d with insects cuts off man & beast;
And as a sea o’erwhelms a land in the day of an earthquake;

Fury! rage! madness! in a wind swept through America
And the red flames of Orc that folded roaring fierce around
The angry shores, and the fierce rushing of th’inhabitants together:
The citizens of New-York close their books & lock their chests;
The mariners of Boston drop their anchors and unlade;
The scribe of Pensylvania casts his pen upon the earth;
The builder of Virginia throws his hammer down in fear.

Then had America been lost, o’erwhelm’d by the Atlantic,
And Earth had lost another portion of the infinite,
But all rush together in the night in wrath and raging fire
The red fires rag’d! the plagues recoil’d! then rolld they back with fury

On Albions Angels; then the Pestilence began in streaks of red
Across the limbs of Albions Guardian, the spotted plague smote Bristols

And the Leprosy Londons Spirit, sickening all their bands:
The millions sent up a howl of anguish and threw off their hammerd mail,
And cast their swords & spears to earth, & stood a naked multitude.
Albions Guardian writhed in torment on the eastern sky
Pale quivring toward the brain his glimmering eyes, teeth chattering
Howling & shuddering his legs quivering; convuls’d each muscle & sinew
Sick’ning lay Londons Guardian, and the ancient miter’d York
Their heads on snowy hills, their ensigns sick’ning in the sky

The plagues creep on the burning winds driven by flames of Orc,
And by the fierce Americans rushing together in the night
Driven o’er the Guardians of Ireland and Scotland and Wales
They spotted with plagues forsook the frontiers & their banners seard
With fires of hell, deform their ancient heavens with shame & woe.
Hid in his caves the Bard of Albion felt the enormous plagues.
And a cowl of flesh grew o’er his head & scales on his back & ribs;
And rough with black scales all his Angels fright their ancient heavens
The doors of marriage are open, and the Priests in rustling scales
Rush into reptile coverts, hiding from the fires of Orc,

“We need to live with COVID”

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How many would still be alive, and how many would not have been treated like garbage, if we had accepted the reality over a year ago that we must live with COVID? It’s not even that hard of a truth to bear. But the work-from-home Zoom class wanted their apocalypse theater. They wanted the cinematic aspect of it all. And I’m sure it was quite the spectacle for those who had nothing to lose from the restrictions. All those who are now demanding a return to lockdowns are in reality demanding a return to the reality TV show that they were able to live inside,able to immerse themselves in. Is this sociopathic addiction to instant gratification entertainment a byproduct of high-speed internet? I wonder. The internet, high-speed, omnipresent, has killed off one of our most valuable moods: boredom. Boredom breeds creativity, ingenuity. It builds character. But it’s now almost gone from our world. The 5G IV drips directly into your living room, your phone, your workplace, school, and church. Pure heroin non-stop entertainment, never ending, chasing your attention span all the way to the grave. The pandemic response was propelled by screen slaves, their streaming-addled brains unable to do anything other than demand something more real, to see their 5G perversions play out in the real world, where we’re all forced into a part.