“It is an article of faith that there are no conspiracies in American life.” — Gore Vidal
Well, I don’t know about you, but I’ve had it. The confusion and inconsistency in message. Disconnected and disconcerting warnings and directions. Turf battles and politicos vying for heralded status as the next 9/11 Rudy. NY’s Goober Guv Andrew Cuomo’s daily rants and raves about his Mama’s sausage and gravy and ventilators, that strange and impossible-to-place accented lilt that indicates roughly a cross between Queens and Zeta Reticili. I can’t stand it. Truly. I’m walking around like some sterile highwayman, masked and confused. Socially distant and detached, demented and delusional as I march about like a penned sheep. We’ve lost our soul, guts and backbone. Ball-less orchiectomized castrati, sad. No end in sight. And as they say on QVC, but wait . . . there’s more.
Tracked! You’ll be forced under penalty of law and with the tantalizing promise of freedom to take an unknown, barely-tested vaccine currently under development by and from self-appointed Vaccine Emperor Bill Gates. But you’ll be so fecking desperate to regain your life and salary and freedom, you’ll do anything. But this isn’t just some usual vaccine. Oh, no siree, Bucko. Nope, this will be administered along with a quantum dye dot via microneedle. But it’s not to track you, no way, Hose B. It’s to allow record-keeping for those poor unfortunates who misplace vaccine docs. That’s all. No big deal. Take off the tin foil chapeau, Sparky. And once your hit with this any health official or cop or whatever will be able to give you the once-over via smartphone app to determine if you’re in compliance. Er, for your own good. Nothing nefarious here. Please. Put down the 1984, Mr. Blair.
It’s good for you, right? This is about medicine and sickness and plague and pestilence and pandemics and destruction and death and, you know. So enough with your usual dystopian rants and raves. Vaccines are good and great and healthy. You don’t think polio just up and left on its own accord, now do you? And by the way, we’re sick of that civil libertarian pap. You should thank Billy Gates for his tireless work to fund factories that’ll be working 24/7 cranking out vaccine dosages to the entire world, that’s 7.6B . . . BILLION! Oh, and I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking it’s because of some profit motive or control or distraction or something. You always look a gift horse in the mouth. You just can’t be compliant and pliant and obeisant and grateful. You always have to bring up this liberty business and it’s getting old. Look, if you want to spend years of forevers trapped up in your crib looking like some crazed scrub nurse that’s your business. The world wants out and will take and do and dance and sing anything. Got it. Now, let us out of here!
I never thought the news could get worse. But it has. Dear Gawd, it’s unwatchable. Unlistenable. Horrid. Dreck. And what’s worse is that as it’s being filmed and taped and broadcast from homes and basements and kitchens and rumpus rooms, we can see for the first time just how talentless these children are. Unfunny, untalented and unimaginative. Please, I beg you. Just watch 20 seconds of this most recent SNL and your jaw will drop. Then switch over to FoxNews, the official chloroquine network, and hear the umpteenth commercial for the magic elixir. Then pull your hair out. Or you can watch local news that’s actually better (or less tortuous). Watching the goofy weatherman at his breakfast nook explaining rain. Then watch Betty Boop read the news off her iPad, rocker and meds after she did her own hair and makeup and then watch the poor bastard in sports explain . . . not really sure what as there’s no sports.
You can’t watch press conferences. The height of torture. The best so far. Hands down. NJ Governor Phil Murphy and state Health Commissioner Judy Persichilli are superb. He just last month had a cancerous tumor removed from his kidney and I’m sure should be finding less stressful ways to mend. But he’s been magnificent. And the worst? The benighted NYC manchild moonbat ditz, “Big Bird” Billy D.B. leftie libturd ditz and socialist wannabe twit. Beyond horrible. Doomsayer. Cassandra. I despise him. Almost as much as I despise CV19.
Hey, CV Nineteen. The Cuervo gold. The fine Colombian. Not this time, Sparky. Things are different. And here’s the catch and the point. Nothing’s changing or advancing or will until they get that vaccine out. Whenever there’s a chloroquine advance or trial, Fauci marches up on orders and drops a new turd into the punchbowl. Like magic and clockwork. Or he threatens that the virus will go dormant, denatured and cold and then BOOM! Back again. (Hurry up with the vax, Billy! I’m running out of excuses.) Think about it. Oh, and don’t try to find the news paralleling reality. We live near the USNS Comfort and if there are sick folks being transported there, they must be transported telepathically or via Stark Trek transport because the entry gate is dead. A few cops in riot gear here. Some jarheads there. And don’t bring up the Javits Center down the street. Over 3K beds with how many there? 50? Maybe. Oh, and this while reports scare the B. Jesus out of folks with stories of trenches dug, makeshift graves, battle scene shots reminiscent of Gettysburg or Antietam. Refrigerated trucks with stiffs cooled, stacked and packed. Screaming, crying and frenetic health workers and nurses screaming into videos begging for the horror to stop. While other hospitals showcase cutesy TikTok reviews of dancing workers with balloons shoved down scrubs channeling Carmen Miranda.
Notice the disconnect? That’s the point. Distraction, distortion all to keep you off balance and off kilter. And they’re doing a hell of a job. Oh, and if you dare to even suspect or mention or hint at 5G connections, nano-tagging, vaccine adjuvant horrors . . . anything not within the script, your message is gone. Because that’s a conspiracy theory. Translation: True. Or embarrassing. So, how’s your land of freedom holding out?
Join us. As we’ve now been ordered homebound and shut in, sheltered in place, locked down, quarantined, buttoned up and on the verge of stir-crazy, remote viewing takes on an entirely new concept. And I’ll bet you’ve heard every importuning and entreating invitation to join the latest iteration in humanity via Zoom (be careful, patriots), Skype and the like. Well, one more’s not going to kill you. Thrice daily we meet in our YouTube LiveStream to chat and conviviate and I invite you to join us anon! Forthwith and instanter. You needn’t say anything. You can just read the streams and screams and comments and analyses that sometimes resemble nothing cognizable in the real world. But it’s addictive. Seriously. And just what the doctor ordered.
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Until the morrow.
