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Life in the Empire

A thread dedicated towards possible solutions rather than the rather pessimistic fare we engage in with much of our other communication.

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Okay working now. Same as Paul but in Kansas. Missing my kids.

From the elaborate theater of 911 to the klown koup of 2021... what have we learned.  Technology and budget are slightly different.  What else.  Pandemic tribalism.  Pizzagate.  Sure.  What's a psycop.  Deja vu.  Pandemic.  Memedemic.   

 What is a social media platform.  Double jeopardy.   

    

Had to exit from all mainstream social media platforms as they've become toxic as fuck. A country gone mad. Beyond the mass totalitarian cancelation of our constitutional rights, it's mainly tribalism that's driving in the final stake. Good night, America.

And this is what has been so incredibly frustrating for those of us opposing the roll-out of the “New Normal,” whether debunking the official Covid-19 narrative, or “Russiagate,” or the “Storming of the US Capitol,” or any other element of the new official ideology.    

Those still blaming Trump for all our ills are the country's biggest problem.

I know they irritate the FUCK out of me.  WAY more than Dumpo ever did.    

Anybody seen this shit going on locally?

Like Gettysburg for the grandkids

"You will hate then when you grow old. Because they’ll always be heroes. And they’ll always be nineteen". — Grandpa George

Changelings and trans-dimensional people ( like the Indian Pony)  

The Battle of Gettysburg had been over for at least a week.  Henry had no idea what fucking day it was.  Pony kept up with Jubal’s boys, and now they had their grim war faces on with their backs to the river.  Henry had to say a sad goodbye to Jubal.  Pony was rested and well-fed.  Henry was not.  Up the road is Pleasanton’s cavalry who will not believe old Dutchy came this far to fix their carbines.  The Parson’s farm was an obvious field for Meade’s army.  Henry proposed to lease the parson’s identity.  Parson is either baptist or anabaptist.  Maybe a calvinist.  Who knows.  But Henry knew the theology well enough to pass through another day’s sleep deprivation and  holy indian medicine. Henry made it into the presence of General Meade himself.  Disguised of course. There Henry rambled some charm in scriptural English about battle on this particular Sabbath.    Maybe Carl was there. Henry got back in time to pay the parson and get a good night’s sleep among the forest people.    

At first light Bean field Hank sat across a cracker box with Dilger’s battery, squatting on saddlebags behind the Shenandoah Café.  Ye serpents, ye generation of vipers, how can ye escape the damnation of hell?  Don’t Bogart that joint Hobo.  Mighty good acid we dropped back on the 80.  Yeah Hen.  Where are the girls.  Vietnam had kept the two bikers rapping that 70s show in formation ever since California.  During the war, Henry’s white plastic helmet had headphones.  Hobo’s steel pot did not.  Hen the scout and Hobo the gunner relied on the kindness of strangers, because the boys brought plenty of fine entertainment and good dope.  They ain’t awake yet Hoob but they home.  Gotta cop some parts and a phone book Hen.  Girls got a phone?  Here’s the number, Hobo.  Don’t fucking lose it.  Hobo studied it for a minute and gave it back.  Didn’t forget the number or show up for dinner.  Theatre girls like to sleep late, but had to get to their waitress job. 

They is mercenaries.  Just like us.    

There are pernies in SLC. There is still cute stuff at Treehugger.  Micromobiliry means learning to fly me scooter.  Cornholio Madness™ should subside when everybody realizes it's a pandemic that is becoming endemic. How can you Resist your Feudal.  One way- realizing 911 was/ is an inside.  The public is still being gaslit ( mass formation psychos )  Ask: What happened to Bldg. 7's core columns? See what kind of answer we get.  Then we'll be a big Tzadik.   

Solutions:  

As in Yazbut you offer no solutions.  The ones you do are gibberish.  Welcome to Slime World.  Somewhere between Bullshit Mountain and Yoodooit Too.  Doncha wanna stick them birthday cakes and pony shit up they ass. No eye dew.   

There are some younguns who definitely get it.  Movements.  Like this one.   

This is a real compost modern movement opera. There's JUMP.  But it aint got the bump. Birds Aren't Real has story appeal.    "Meanwhile, the prudent will save their energy to get through the rigors ahead and make plans for a changed economic landscape that will require all the classical virtues they can muster for creating a life worth living."  Recall that on one occasion, election rigging wasn’t up to the task, so a president was elected by judicial fiat.  Fuck all of them with wooden scroll holding the Constitution.   

Besides (you know)... such power-line charging drones are technologically possible now.  Ornithopters may not be necessary.    

Crypto Hell 

A Country for Old Men!  

I decided to go on a hunger strike until there was Medicare for all (M4A).  I was desperate.  I intended to die.  I figured it would take about 3 weeks.  Would probably start passing out in a week etc. water only etc. live alone blah blah.  Then in a week decided suicide would be wrong.  Probably rationalization kicking in (again), but it seemed like some kind of equipment abuse.  Learned that 300 calories a day was the ration for civilians in occupied Europe in 1945.  It was the average ration of a Confederate soldier in 1865, siege victims etc. you get the idea. 

Weird things start happening to your mind.  It’s like fasting.  Only worse.  Of course ye got to stay stoned thru all of this.  It helps with the pain etc.  Figured M4A was the best way to get everybody aboard the Green New Deal (GND) and had been bunged up for years cos crashes broken heart bones etc.  What the fuck.  Die-off.  Global famine and war.  What the fucking fuck.  But know everybody is worried about their own pink butts first and the US medical system is debt peonage… ass-sucking shit.  Trump.  Fucking Trump.  That’s all.  Nothing else. 

Starvation is not an attention-getting device.  Maybe when Gandhi did it.  But that was then and you aint him.  So now what.  The fuck.  What?  The fucking fuck ever since the new-told lie 50 fucking years ago down thru kitsch-ass 911 and the great Cornholio™ flustered cluck with their Lawrence Welk cue-ball faces and Disneyland TV brains.  That’s what.  The fuck Trump.  You try to explain that he’s only a symptom.  Like explaining to the docs who want to sell you a profitable procedure and get your whiney ass out of there.  Like the Emergency Room (ER)  

Where does it hurt?  No.  How you gonna pay.  Have your papers in order.  Same drill.  People are flat-lining four feet away.  There’s buzzing and beeping and weeping and all kinds of shit going on.  Lota fun if you’re feeling no pain.  If you are, watch out.  Scream, and you’re a sissy.  Stay stoic, and you’re dead.  It’s worse if you’re trying to get oxygen.  That’s expensive.  Hallucinations.  Angels.  Lights and tunnels and all that shit.  For real.  Or not.  Doesn’t Matter.  Bla bla.  After 6 weeks, ration is about 600 calories. 

With 1000 calories of decent grub a day you are hungry enough to start a revolution and have enough energy to actually do it.  They can’t be empty calories.  Food nerds know this.  Earth nerds know it too.  ETs?  Who nose.  They don’t have noses.  Maybe they is US from the future and shit after we stopped eating our animal friends.  The boys we lived with ate cats.  Maybe it was road kill.  Not so much bad karma.  All the witnesses I knew are dead.  Energy environment economy and peace.  Got to do it.  No other choice but one and I wrote about it.   

Easy way.  Hard way.   

  

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