One More Year to Flatten The Herd
One More Year to Flatten The Herd
Scenes from a nut house, or observations from a trip to Walgreens in suburban Portland, Oregon.
For much of the sane world, or whatever’s left of it, the plandemic theatre is over. But some places refuse to let go. The following was observed during a 20-minute wait in line at a Walgreens pharmacy in early June.
Don’t take refuge in the false security of consensus and the feeling that you're bound to be okay because you're safely in the majority.
— Christopher Hitchens
The packed family minivans pulled up to the drive-thru window visible through the plexiglass wall of the interior pharmacy in the back. The man working the drive-thru was younger than thirty, yet weighed over three hundred pounds. His fat rolls melted down to his knees concealing half his upper legs, torso, and hips. If he wasn’t on cholesterol, heart, diabetes, and a host of other drugs himself, he soon would be. Maybe he’ll get an employee discount.
He sat slouched toward the exterior drive-thru window, presumably on a sturdy stool all of which was concealed by his massive girth, while barking half coherent orders through a face diaper into a microphone at the families who all dutifully wore masks, inside their cars, on a hot summer day.
“You’re going to test yourself first, then your children!” He barked at them in a serious tone that said the pandemic was far from over, and everyone was in grave danger unless they knew with precision PCR certainty if they had the sniffles or not. To Walgreens’ delight, the government (taxpayers) would subsidize these tests along with millions of others for an indefinite time frame.
Making sure everyone “gets tested” is a boon to these corporations and a useful tool for politicians to push for more restrictions to justify their coming mid-term election fraud. Though Portland doesn’t really need to rely on election fraud with people so eager to keep reelecting their tormentors.
In front of the pharmacy, the shelves were lined with every product conceivable related to Branch Covidian theatre: pulse oximeters, Binax-Now self-testing kits for $25-a-pop; boxes of hundreds of cheap plastic-particulate-laden Chinese-made disposable masks eager to be used and disposed of so each one can wrap around and suffocate sea life; disposable gloves; aspirin; nasal sprays; digital thermometers; if it has ever been advertised over the past two years and imprinted in the collective memory of the hive-minded Covidian, Walgreens is eager to sell it.
The family outside the drive-thru ran around their minivan poking each other’s nasal cavities as if the world will end soon if they don’t know the condition of their own health as determined by faulty testing.
“Maybe they’re flying somewhere that still has strict guidelines for entry?” I wondered before telling myself to live and let live. I tried to live and let live, but it didn’t last more than a moment as a family came tip-toeing past me inside the store as if measuring their distance from me while giving me the evil eye for not wearing a mask.
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Outside the insanity continued. The ensuing family minivan pulled up, everyone inside was also wearing masks. The theatre of the absurd was repeated. Sodium azide pokers, red faces, watery eyes, sneezing, wincing, racing around the car like a Chinese fire drill, father and mother poking their children toward safety and security while a morbidly obese man in a paper mask yelled instructions at them through a microphone.
Another car, SUV, and minivan followed with similar variations of the testing theatre. Either a lot of families were traveling to some highly restrictive biomedical state like New Zealand or the people who populate dysfunctionally neurotic blue state cities like Portland, Oregon are well conditioned through fearful social contagions to keep the plandemic performances alive.
What will be the reward for such blind obedience to political science that demands subordination through cultish behavior?
A lab that is fully subsidized by the corporate state will soon tell them if they have a cold or not. In a previous iteration of our world, one definitively saner than our current timeline, these people would have been permitted to assess their own health status by simply taking a moment or two to think about their physical state.
This is the genius of the great con of “asymptomatic spread” through “asymptomatic cases” and the obsession with “knowing” if one is “infected”. For the first time in history, resultant physical reactions (symptoms) that are being attributed to a lab-engineered bioweapon posing as a virus, can not be determined through simple self-assessment.
This renders all of humanity permanent vectors of transmission and suspicious nodes of harm that must be kept at a distance at all times and viewed with contempt if they refuse to participate in the madness.
And if the PCR certainty tells these families they are “positive”?
Oh, the horror!
In the far back of the nut house posing as a retail pharmacy, five or six pharmacists in white coats worked diligently to separate pills onto plastic trays to be dispensed into silly orange bottles with sticky labels. The only nation on earth that turns prescription drugs into a performative theatre to lend the profession respectability while attempting to justify why Americans pay anywhere from four times to twenty times the cost as Mexicans, Serbians, Bhutanese, or any other people on the planet for the exact same substances.
An industry that can extract so much profit from people incapable of rebellion or resistance will only be interested in rendering those people dependent on the source of their riches by inducing constant illness.
Health comes last.
After capturing and controlling the state and the agencies responsible for policing their malfeasance and corruption, any goals become attainable toward any ends.
Inside the pharmacy, the performative medical theatre was much more deadly than outside in the drive-thru. In a makeshift waiting room, people sat eager to hear their names called by a nurse who appeared every few minutes from a back room. These masked people were waiting to get their boosters. The nurse would call a new name and as they walked to the private poke chamber she would ask them as a waitress might ask a customer at a diner about their menu, “It looks like you had Pfizer as a most recent booster, would you like to stick with Pfizer or try Moderna this time, Mr. Martini?”
It was shocking to watch these people shuffle toward unnecessary personal risk with absolutely no benefits whatsoever. How does one assess such public human behavior? Ignorance, stupidity, suicidal ideation, utter madness?
It’s one thing for the people to be ignorant and fearful, but for the nurse administering the shots, what’s her excuse? A paycheck?
Utter madness indeed.
The United States used to be filled with nut houses, state hospitals, and other institutions where the mad people of society would be sent for “correcting” if not to isolate them from saner society out of caution and protection. All of the public space today is now a nut house. The medical centers, the retail pharmacies, the grocery stores, and the schools, where histrionic teachers are still masking children in some cities. And if these poor children aren’t being abused at school, then they’ll surely get it good at home from their neurotic parents who will insist on double injections while being the first to ask with tremendous eagerness when they can then get their offspring “boosted”. All of society is now a state hospital in cities like Portland, Oregon.
And just like most of the characters at the state hospital in One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest (ironically filmed in Salem, Oregon) the people in their cars wearing masks, and digging into the deepest recesses of each other’s snouts with sodium azide pokers, and inside the Walgreens getting goaded and prodded, jabbed, and lectured by masked “experts” with overpriced degrees in white coats were not forced to partake in this madness. They were all there on their own fearful and distorted impulses that move them to behave like nuts.
It might be no simple thing to liberate these people who adore their chains and whose meaningful existence has become dependent on fear and neurosis from a condition synonymous with the common cold. This entire two-year global human experiment has been one long IQ test. And most people are still failing miserably.
But at least they feel righteous about their failures. And isn’t that all that really matters anymore?
Courtesy of Greg Reese on Substack. A final letter from Dietrich Bonhoeffer to Adolph Hitler on how the stupid are more dangerous than the malicious:
Stupidity is a more dangerous enemy of the good than malice. One may protest against evil; it can be exposed and, if need be, prevented by use of force. Evil always carries within itself the germ of its own subversion in that it leaves behind in human beings at least a sense of unease. Against stupidity we are defenseless. Neither protests nor the use of force accomplish anything here; reasons fall on deaf ears; facts that contradict one’s prejudgment simply need not be believed- in such moments the stupid person even becomes critical – and when facts are irrefutable they are just pushed aside as inconsequential, as incidental. In all this the stupid person, in contrast to the malicious one, is utterly self-satisfied and, being easily irritated, becomes dangerous by going on the attack. For that reason, greater caution is called for than with a malicious one. Never again will we try to persuade the stupid person with reasons, for it is senseless and dangerous.
If we want to know how to get the better of stupidity, we must seek to understand its nature. This much is certain, that it is in essence not an intellectual defect but a human one. There are human beings who are of remarkably agile intellect yet stupid, and others who are intellectually quite dull yet anything but stupid. We discover this to our surprise in particular situations. The impression one gains is not so much that stupidity is a congenital defect, but that, under certain circumstances, people are made stupid or that they allow this to happen to them. We note further that people who have isolated themselves from others or who live in solitude manifest this defect less frequently than individuals or groups of people inclined or condemned to sociability. And so it would seem that stupidity is perhaps less a psychological than a sociological problem.
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