In the words of today's youth, "I JUST CAN'T EVEN."
There is no longer any justice or rule of law in a good portion of this country. Prepare accordingly.
In the words of today's youth, "I JUST CAN'T EVEN."
There is no longer any justice or rule of law in a good portion of this country. Prepare accordingly.
Vox Popoli is inaccessible, due to being "under Review for Potential Violations of Blogger Terms of Service."
Update: Vox has a backup site--find him HERE
And if you do, you really need to pay more attention.
Our Favorite Spitfire, aka Ann Barnhardt, passes on a letter detailing the consequences of The Totally Safe And Absolutely Necessary For The Survival Of The Human Race Poison Vaccine:
I don’t want to speculate or put out wild conspiracy theories, but yesterday I received an email from my employer that went out to all patient care providers in our health system. The email detailed an entire set of guidelines and protocols that have been developed to rapidly identify, triage, and treat people who may be suffering an allergic reaction to either of the COVID vaccines. If reactions are as rare as we are being told, then why is this necessary? If the allergic reactions are typical of other medication allergic reactions, why does a different set of standards exist? All things to make you wonder.
Yeah. Totally safe. Big Pharma, Big Media and Big Government all agree. What could possibly go wrong?
The Devil, since he can create nothing himself, always tries to copy God. The triad of evil apes the Holy Trinity, inversely.
The reason is that the 'need' for societal destruction cannot be explained in materialistic terms - which are the only terms possible in public discourse; and among those who deny the reality of God and creation.
The true reason for societal destruction is that human society is Good and therefore needs to be destroyed. Society between Men is indeed one of the great and essential Goods of this mortal world; as Men at all times, everywhere, have acknowledged and acted-upon - quite naturally and spontaneously.
The idea that this can and should be dispensed with is monstrous, outrageous and ridiculous... for anyone who is Not deep into the servitude of Satan. But then, that is precisely what we are dealing-with.
RTWT for a chilling analysis of where evil eventually ends up.
Privileged elites always want to assert their status by indulging in pleasures denied to the lower classes. This often leads them into immoral, deranged, and even criminal behavior. They're desperate to flaunt their power by doing what lesser folk are forbidden to do.
This is one of the reasons for the wave of sexual harassment, sexual assault, and pedophilia among the richest and most powerful. They indulge increasingly depraved appetites to savor the sweet, sweet high of doing what ordinary people cannot, feasting on the food of the gods.
It's also one of the reasons high-living elites are drawn to puritanical secular pseudo-religions, like the Church of Global Warming and now the Church of Covid. They have a deep appetite for making aspects of modern life forbidden to the Little People, but not to themselves.
You'll notice that high acolytes of the Church of Global Warming have absolutely no intention of compromising THEIR extravagant lifestyles. They jet set, they have yachts and huge cars, they buy beachfront mansions on property they claim to believe will be underwater soon.
But they have a deep desire to make planes, cars, and accoutrements of the First World lifestyle forbidden to the proletariat. They love how their ideology elevates them into a superior overclass, reaffirming their importance by asserting they "need" or "deserve" so much more.
These elite appetites are useful to the Left because they fold neatly into its endless war against the hated middle class. The perversions of the elite inspire them to attack the morality that would otherwise help lower and middle class people improve their station in life.
Meanwhile, the fanatical puritan and luddite ideologies of the elite inspire them to restrict the resources and technologies that improve middle-class life and help people become more productive, which helps them earn more money and amass more capital.
Thus we have a culture that teaches young people to reject time-tested moral codes that would help them build better lives, instead making clumsy efforts to imitate the debauchery of the elites in ways that lead them to misery and ruin.
And our young people are taught to hate their own ambitions, to hate themselves for desiring lives that have big carbon footprints, to hate and distrust everything that could bring them prosperity and narrow the gap between their lifestyles and those of the elite.
Take a broad look at pop culture, political culture, and increasingly corporate culture as we head into 2021. Almost every bit of it has been crafted to make middle class people abandon their ambitions and program their children to fail... making Mount Olympus ever higher.
And then the political elite will demand even more control over our lives, to "fix" the ever-widening "inequality" gap their own policies and cultural programming made worse!
It's no wonder that some who dwell on the highest slopes of Mount Olympus are tempted to go even further, to indulge in dark appetites that would land lesser men in jail - a temptation that seems especially acute for male members of the extreme upper class.
They reach for the fruit that no other hand could pick, to remind one another that they are gods, even while loudly posturing as champions of socialism, feminism, and the Little Guy. The difference between what they DO and what they SAY is part of the rush.
"FYI the MSM has a huge f*cking media onslaught that is set to go live Monday to scorch earth Milo and destroy him via the pedophile label.
"I'm part of a mailing list (not giving my real name or the name of the list for the sake of protecting my ass from retaliation) but they have been sitting on the story for a while, because they thought Milo was small fries and wanted to wait until he got big enough a thread to go nuclear on. "
"I don’t know much, almost nothing, about Mr. Yiannopoulos – but I do know enough to spot a political UniParty approach that is as historic and familiar as the Swamp itself. Mr. Yiannopoulos has all the same enemies as President Trump; that cannot be coincidental."
"Don’t get me wrong, AWD would enjoy hanging out with some of the bloggers and people I respect that I don’t see very often. We’ve had a lot of fun and accomplished some good things together over the years. But the reasons listed above are why AWD will not attend CPAC this year or any time in the future. I have never been very good at kissing asses and don’t like not being able to look at myself in the mirror. And I will never support anything or anyone who is in bed with the Muslim Brotherhood!"
Do you really think that children who are terrified by someone pointing his finger and saying “bang” are going to lead the revolution against tyranny? No, they will cower in their tiny apartments, hoping that if they behave well enough, they’ll continue to be fed.
Do you think our ancestors who fought in the revolutionary war were afraid to climb a tree or get dirty?
Those of us who grew up this way (and who raise our children to be fearless) are the resistance against a coddled, helmeted, non-offending society that aims for a dependant populace. In a country that was built on rugged self-reliance, we are now the minority.
This is the story of Jim. Jim was an average young man in an average American town. He earned above-average grades in high school, and went on to attend an average American college. Jim's parents, while not destitute, were in no position to help him with finances, so Jim worked full-time at an average college job to support himself, riding his bike to school, then to work, and then back to his far-below-average studio apartment to study, eat average college food, and fall asleep. The next day began the whole process again.
One day, while Jim was enjoying a rare free moment, his uncle paid him a surprise visit. Jim's uncle was a wealthy man, though no one quite knew what he did to amass his fortune. He entered the tiny rented room with a warm greeting, and sat on the edge of the bed. After exchanging pleasantries and small talk, Jim's uncle asked if there was anything he could do to make Jim's life easier. Jim didn't want to impose, so he politely declined. Jim's uncle pressed his point, saying, "Jim, I've known you for longer than you remember, and it pains me to see you having to struggle this way. Here," and he pulled a small black card out of his jacket pocket. Jim tried to refuse, but his uncle insisted. "Use this as you see fit," he said to the young man. They talked awhile longer about various family members and Jim's classes, and then, after affectionate goodbyes, Jim's uncle left.
Jim followed his uncle to the door, and shut it after him. He then turned over the small black card in his hand. It was a credit card. . . sort of. There was a sixteen-digit number on it and a magnetic strip , but no expiration date, no name, no logo, not even a signature bar. Just a wholly unremarkable, glossy black card. Jim wondered how it could even work, and then decided that he would not find out. He was determined to go it on his own, just like his parents had taught him. "Earn what you get, or there's no joy in having it," his father liked to say. Jim went to throw the card away, but hesitated. It couldn't hurt, after all, to have options, could it? That's really all he was doing, was being careful, he told himself as he put the card in his desk.
For months, Jim rarely even thought of the card. Then, one day he noticed a letter from the college in his stack of mail. Times had grown tough not just for Jim, but for everybody, and money was tight all around. Though Jim had carried his above average grades with him to college, they were no longer enough to maintain his scholarship. Jim sat crumpled in his chair, head in hands. He would have to delay his schooling and spend the next semester saving for the following term. The thought was not at all appealing -- hadn't he suffered enough? He worked his heart out and sacrificed so much; how could this happen? Suddenly, that little black card loomed large in Jim's mind. Surely it wouldn't hurt to use it for his living expenses. Not luxury items -- just the stuff he was already using. Then he would work even harder, improve his grades so he could get his scholarship back, and then put the card away. Other students lived on credit -- was it really so wrong?
Jim put his plan into action, knowing full well that he might regret it when the bill came. He determined he would cross that bridge when he came to it. He was a little nervous the first time he swiped the little black card, but it worked just fine. All he needed to do was sign. He stayed true to his word, using his credit judiciously. A month passed. Then two. Jim checked every day, but no bill came to him. Worried, he called his uncle. "Don't worry about it, my boy, it's all taken care of," Jim's uncle reassured him. "But..." Jim started to protest, but his uncle cut him off: "It's all taken care of. I meant what I said -- use it as you see fit. I'll tell you what: I'll arrange with your employer to automatically deduct payments from your paycheck, alright?" This eased Jim's mind, and he let the matter go.
In the ensuing months, Jim came to rely on the card more and more. He asked his boss to move him to part-time hours: With all his needs paid for, he could start focusing on his wants, and one of those was more leisure time. The money he earned could also go to wants, rather than needs. Jim felt as if the weight of the world had been removed from his shoulders. His wants, however, soon outstripped his income, and he found himself pulling out that little black card more and more often. The card seemed to have no limit; though his purchases grew progressively larger, the card was never declined.
Jim was coming out of the store after one of his larger purchases when he saw a man standing at a nearby intersection holding a cardboard sign. Jim walked over to talk to the man, and found that the man, Andrew, had fallen on hard times. He had lost his job, could not find another one, and had a family to feed, so he stood on the corner begging strangers for money. Andrew's story troubled Jim; he'd experienced hard times himself, and could not imagine having to face unemployment with a family to feed. Jim quickly told Andrew about his little black card, and offered to use it for Andrew's family's expenses as well. Andrew, overcome with emotion, threw his arms around Jim and sobbed thanks into his shoulder.
Word of the miraculous card spread quickly, and soon Jim was inundated with requests for help. Some seemed more legitimate than others, but who was he to judge? Jim accepted them all, and it seemed that in no time half of the town was dependent on the card Jim's uncle had given to him. Jim was thrilled that he could help so many people. Gone were his days of counting change for food; now, because of him, those days were gone for so many others, too. "This," Jim thought to himself one night, "is freedom."
Jim's philanthropic ventures weren't the only thing on his mind. There was a young lady he'd met in class. Sharla. She was beautiful, intelligent, kind -- everything Jim was looking for. And, though he could hardly believe it, she reciprocated his feelings. It wasn't long until he had a ring on her finger. Money no longer being an object, he made sure that their wedding was everything she had ever wanted. He thought nothing could have made him happier, but he had to admit he was wrong on that point on the day that Sharla gave birth to their first child, a darling baby boy who they called Sam.
Sam was just a few days old, sleeping in his mother's arms in their comfortable home, when there came a knock at the door. Jim ran to answer it and found a delivery man standing there with a package. Jim signed for the package, thanked the man, and went back in the house. He turned the box over to see not his name, or Sharla's, but Sam's. Thinking it was a gift for the new baby, he opened it. He was puzzled to find not gifts, but a stack of official-looking pages. He grabbed the first one and began to read.
Jim could feel the blood draining from his face. His hands began to shake. This had to be wrong, this could not be possible. He raced for the phone, punched in his uncle's number, and demanded that the old man get there NOW. Jim paced the floor while he waited, unable to continue perusing the pages in the box. Not possible. Not possible.
Jim's uncle knocked on the door in short order. Jim nearly wrenched the door off its hinges, grabbed his uncle by the arm, dragged him to the box, and thrust the first paper into his face. "How?" bellowed Jim. "How is this possible?!"
Jim's uncle stepped back, stroked his white goatee thoughtfully, and calmly said, "Jim, I told you it was taken care of. You never asked how."
Jim's eyes grew wide. "How could you do this to me? To him? My son, he's just a baby! How on earth can he pay this off?" Another thought gripped Jim, turning him paler still. "Half the town is living on this card! They depend upon it! I can't just cut them off! But if I don't..." His sentence trailed off as he stared in anguish at his son, who had somehow slept through Jim's outburst.
Jim's uncle nodded gravely. "I'll tell you what, Jim. I can help you with this problem as well." He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out another card, just like Jim's, but with a different number on it. "Give him this when he's of age."
Jim was flabbergasted. "You cannot be serious," he said. Another thought occurred to him, and he grasped at it like a drowning man lunging for a piece of driftwood. "What about the payments that were being taken from my paychecks?"
Jim's uncle laughed. "My boy, surely you don't believe you made this much?!"
"Well, no," admitted Jim, clinging to this last tiny piece of hope, "but it's got to count for something, right?"
Jim's uncle laughed again. "My boy," he said again, slightly shaking his head from side to side, "how do you think I've made my fortune?" He stuffed the second card into his stunned nephew's hands, nodded to an equally stunned Sharla, and escorted himself out, leaving a horrified silence in his wake.
And now I will ask you the question that was surely running laps around Jim's beleaguered mind: If you have to steal from and enslave your own children to achieve it, can you truly call it freedom?
“A man goes home and masturbates his typical fantasy,” wrote Sanders. “A woman on her knees. A woman tied up. A woman abused.”
If you wish to salvage America, if it is to be done at all, the only answer is to restore in law and in fact the philosophy that holds man as his own rightful property, and his life and his liberties as the material implementation of that fact. Please do not bother about statist notions of “obligations” or “responsibilities” of free men. The only actual, logical “obligation” of a free man is to respect those same rights among other men, and his only collectivized “responsibility” is to pay for the upholding of those rights among all men. This is the sole justification of governments, and it is the sole reason that any form of taxation is logically (and morally) permissible. This means a court system, to resolve disputes among men; a policing mechanism, to apprehend those who violate the rights of men; a national defense to protect against massive attacks on the rights of men. Deprived of the ability to use the power of the state as a gun aimed at the heads of other men in the name of their own peculiar interests, with the threat of a watchful state waiting to punish such aggressors, men must deal with one another by volitional means, i.e., “free trade” or “commerce.”
There is no debate. I am living proof that there was a widespread political witch hunt and criminal conspiracy within the IRS. It is also proof that this scandal extended beyond the IRS to high-level Democrats -- including a specific Democratic U.S. Senator. It's all in black and white in my personal IRS tax files. These are facts.
My files have been turned over to U.S. Senate investigators. I stand ready and eager to testify.
Now it’s time for the mainstream media to do their job and connect the dots.
Democrats win election by stoking resentments, scapegoating productive people for the failures of unproductive people, looting the public treasury, and making monsters out of their opponents. These policies win elections very effectively particularly where voters are uneducated and ill-informed (i.e. dependent on Democrat-run schools and Democrat-run media), but as a strategy of governance, they are inherently dysfunctional. The resentments become hatred and violence, the productive people abandon the dysfunction until the dysfunctional are a voting majority, the public treasury is robbed bare, and you end up with… Detroit, Newark, Baltimore, St. Louis, Providence, Bridgeport, Camden, and all the other one-party urban hellholes, basically.
Democrats think that the dysfunction can be papered over by spending more of other people’s money. But that only works while there is money to spend. The country is broke, which is why I think Baltimore is just the prelude of what’s to come.
Let’s assume, for the moment, that Jade Helm 15 is not a thinly veiled military plot to take over the country lifted straight out of director John Frankenheimer’s 1964 political thriller Seven Days in May, as some fear, but is merely a “routine” exercise for troops, albeit a blatantly intimidating flexing of the military’s muscles.
The problem arises when you start to add Jade Helm onto the list of other troubling developments that have taken place over the past 30 years or more: the expansion of the military industrial complex and its influence in Washington DC, the rampant surveillance, the corporate-funded elections and revolving door between lobbyists and elected officials, the militarized police, the loss of our freedoms, the injustice of the courts, the privatized prisons, the school lockdowns, the roadside strip searches, the military drills on domestic soil, the fusion centers and the simultaneous fusing of every branch of law enforcement (federal, state and local), the stockpiling of ammunition by various government agencies, the active shooter drills that are indistinguishable from actual crises, the economy flirting with near collapse, etc.
Suddenly, the overall picture seems that much more sinister...
But I am a soldier, and I know what must be done; and so I shall put away my sadness and I shall harness up the bitter steed of war, and gird myself up for the battle; and I shall ride out to meet the enemies of Liberty; not in rage, not for anger sake or the hope of vengeance; but because I swore an oath before God, to jealously guard our Republic and its Constitution against all enemies; Him I shall not disappoint, for He is my Hope and my Trust.
Therefore, as much as my soul laments against the harsh truth before me, I make this declaration to my enemies who press me into this battle, that none shall be able to afterwards say “I did not know, you did not warn me”;
I do not care why you took that job with the government, or why you continue to hold it. I only know that you have become Judas and sold yourself to an oppressive state – your government office buildings and vehicles are part of the battlefield, and as a soldier I shall act accordingly.