“The situation was now both serious and infuriating. With stubborn conservatism and complete lack of imagination the enemy continued to advance with his old-fashioned and inefficient but now vastly more numerous ships.”
~ Arthur C. Clarke, Superiority, 1951
This essay derives from discussions on two posts by authors you should follow. One is a detailed critique of force projection ambitions of the United States Navy by my friend Bill Buppert
of You can find it in his Dispatch 006: Carrier Reality, Dead on Arrival.The other post is by Elizabeth Nickson
on her essential reading substack Welcome to Absurdistan in her Our Self-Policing Fascist State. In it, she writes extensively about her experiences with the very crusty upper crust of society.The people who imagine that they are in charge of our world are not even remotely in charge. They have amassed wealth, power, and connexions. They have the ability to deploy militaries, investigate individuals, implant surveillance, put the hit on various folx, and do all manner of atrocious things to children. These capacities have corrupted them, filled them with arrogance, and besotted them with hubris. They are quite mad.
Happily, they are not actually in charge of things, they only imagine the control they crave is theirs. For various reasons they have been beguiled with this view, for a time. Also happily, these are not the very smartest people in the world, nor are they very fit. Inbreeding has driven them into various genetic cul-de-sacs and some dead ends.
Unhappily, they really don’t understand anything. They don’t know how the world works, they have no grasp of economics, they don’t worship God who created their souls and the heavens and the earthly realm, they don’t understand science, and they don’t actually like anyone. Some while ago, they hit upon a plan to have authors come up with idiotic ideas that they spent enormous sums of money promoting.
In the 18th Century a rather mediocre fellow named Jean-Jacques Rousseau, for whom Voltaire had quite a lot of contempt, penned an enormously flawed and self-important essay on The Social Contract. If you feel you should know your enemy, it is probably useful to try to get all the way through it. But it has little wit and no wisdom. It purports that you are bound to obligations that you didn’t sign for, that you are collateral to agreements you never made, and that you should do things because others want those things done, by you. It wasn’t well written, but it became well known because a lot of money went into its promotion. And it led directly to the French Revolution, the Directorate, and the Terror. Many thousands of men and women were butchered by guillotines in various major cities in France because of idiots spouting bad ideas from Rousseau and his insipid followers.
In the 19th Century a thoroughly mid fellow named Karl Marx was hired by his fellow lodge men in the freemasons cult to pen a tedious essay called The Communist Manifesto. The outline of its ideas, found in his essay on “The Condition of the Working Class in England,” (1845) had previously been distributed to the leaders of what became popular riots, rebellions, and uprisings all over Europe in 1848. Its text led directly to many of the bad ideas that Abraham Lincoln had for emancipating slaves and enslaving free men. Following up with a co-author from the banking cartel, Marx and Friedrich Engels put together Das Kapital which has some of the most absurd and irrational ideas on economics, human nature, and reality. These works speak of totally destroying everything good, decent, kind, humanitarian, honourable, and promising in order to torture and coerce people into becoming “new soviet man” so as to degrade God’s great creation of humanity.
There are not enough words in our language, which is probably the most comprehensive agglutination of terms, phrases, jargons, meanings, and syllables ever amassed, to describe the extent of my disgust with communism. Yes, it was required reading at the college I attended, in a required course, and yes, I read it. The kindest thought I had at the time was that it described a system that might be suited to some species of space alien, but that was entirely unworkable for mankind. In fact, I now believe that it describes a way of demeaning and destroying humanity for the benefit of demon worshippers and the things they choose to worship.
Obama and upChuck
Please try to cast your mind back for a bit to the situation in the Autumn of 2008. Prince upChuck of Wales had not yet murdered his mom. John McCain was running for president with Sarah Palin as his running mate, seeking to have at least four more years of the policies of Bush the younger, Rumsfeld, and Cheney. Opposing him was Barack Obama who was very insincerely claiming to be against the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan and against torturing captives in Guantanamo.
You can look into the other false promises made by the mass murdering rapist. In the event, he continued and dramatically expanded the war policies and bank bail-out policies of his predecessor. Cementing his position at the top of the deep state for which he had worked for several decades, Obama would continue to administer foreign policy from 2009 to present, and domestic policy as well during his own 8 years and the four years of the “Biden” thing presidency. In a great many ways, he has simply been promulgating policies set in motion hundreds of years ago.
As it happens, I knew a bit about Obama from my time at Columbia University in the early 1980s. You can, if you look, probably find a copy of his article for the Sundial magazine which was printed in the Spring of 1983. In it he details all the dirt he could dig up on every anti-war activist on campus at the time, except me.
Now, why, you might ask, was a young analyst for the cia carrying their water at Columbia? What had we done that was so terrible? In the Autumn of 1982, we Students Against Militarism and other groups around the city had organised a “die in” on campus. At noon on a particular day everyone on campus who was part of the demonstration lay down where they were. For about fifteen minutes, we simply lay there, as if dead. As if, to make our point, a nuclear weapon had obliterated lower Manhattan and we were dead from the ensuing blast and radiation. Camera crews from all over the world were there to chronicle the event. And it was a congressional election that year, gosh, how rude of us to embarrass the deep state at that time.
Why, you might ask, was I spared the rumour mongering in Obama’s disgusting diatribe against peace? It came about this way: I was coming back to my room from class one afternoon and down at the other end of the hallway of the floor of the dormitory where I lived were Shawn Bender and Gerry Block. Shawn was lamenting his situation, and Gerry seemed to be pretending to care. So I put my books up and walked down that way.
Shawn was unhappy with his part time job at a mid-town bank. It consisted of waiting for about an hour to ninety minutes, processing a small number of envelopes when the mail arrived, then waiting another hour or two until it was time to go home. Boring. What’s more, Shawn wanted to find a replacement, because he really liked his boss who was good guy and easy to work for. Gerry, a pre-med, was definitely not interested in a job at a bank. But I was curious. How much did this terribly boring work pay, I asked?
Seven dollars an hour. My eyebrows went up and merged with the hair on the back of my head for a moment. At the time, I was working as a burger flipper a few nights a week at “The Pub” listening to over-loud punk rock music, watching the girls from Fashion Institute of Technology dance, and keeping the frat boys supplied with grease burgers and french fries. My pay was all of $3.25/hour, as I recall, which was the minimum wage at the time. (Well, really, the minimum wage is always zero, as the people who are no longer engaged in providing counter service at McDonalds in California are beginning to learn.)
It was great. Not only did I get going in work related to my accounting and economics classes, in a bank that might help me with a career in finance later; not only did I get paid pretty well; not only was the work easy to do and my boss great to work with; but also I got to use the company’s MCI-Mail account to read and post to sci.space and other USEnet newsgroups back at the dawn of the Internet. Think of it as a very primitive social media, with moderators, entirely text based, appearing on monochrome monitors or in lines of text emitted by a dot matrix or daisy wheel printer, with the opportunity to write the occasional reply. {Your comment is awaiting moderation.} Heh. None of my comments were ever very moderate.
When he hailed me from across the lower campus quadrangle where I was walking one day, roughly 41 years ago this week, Obama was interested in striking up a conversation with me, the one anti-war activist he had not been able to find. Thinking back on it, the operational security of our group was pretty good, nobody ever disclosed my whereabouts on campus. But they did tell “Barry” as he introduced himself, how to know it was me if he happened to see me. I would be wearing a dark blue ball cap with political buttons against the draft, nuclear weapons, and other bad policies.
When he got close enough to me to speak, he insisted on showing me his red white and blue foraging cap, which was not a ball cap at all, but it had a small brim. And he had a handful of lapel pins from major aerospace companies. I immediately recognised Boeing, McDonnell Douglas, and the Stinger missile, among others. He spoke of putting lapel pins on his hat instead of political buttons. So, he was ingratiating himself to me, trying to put me at my ease? Why would he do that?
It came about that in our conversation Obama mentioned wanting to know about my after-class activities. I mentioned to him that I was in three groups. The joint L5 Society and Planetary Society chapter that I had formed with Carmi Weinzweig in the Autumn semester; Young Americans for Freedom where I would tuck my long hair under my ball cap to try and fit in; and Students Against Militarism. He was not in the least interested in the first two groups. But why, he wanted to know, was I absent from recent meetings of the latter?
Oh, but I was not, I said, I had just a few days previous been to the last meeting for the current school year of Students Against Militarism. He hadn’t been there. And, I went on, there was this great job at a bank in mid-town where I was making good money to supplement my academic scholarships.
Was I going to be involved the next school year? I said I didn’t think so, because the job at the bank was likely to take up as much time as I wanted - the volume of cheques to process had been growing for weeks. Also I didn’t like the new chairman of the group. He was, I noted, a Chinese studies graduate student, and an ardent Maoist. So I could have nothing further to do with the group.
Why not, asked Obama, what’s wrong with Maoism? For me, this was the end of the conversation. I looked at him and said, “You know. All the dead people.” As I was walking away he said something non-committal like “Oh, right, the dead people.” Like it was a new thought, to think about a regime that murdered seventy-six million people that we’re sure of, and consider the dead people as a major black mark against them.
Which brings us to upChuck the Third, who arranged his mom’s death in 2022. Now, today, he’s been crowned the usurper of the throne of England. I regard all persons who call themselves “king” other than Jesus Christ to be usurpers, by the way. No king but Jesus. Every knee shall bow, as it says in Scripture.
There have been a number of essays from Elizabeth Nickson about her work being around and, as it were, studying the British “royal” family. I found her current essay of considerable interest, and simply link to it here for your review when you get a chance.
My own travels in Europe managed to avoid any of the pomp and circumstance attending the owner operators of England, the Hanoverian usurpation. I have, however had cause to read Tim Cohen’s very interesting turn of the millennium book The Antichrist and a Cup of Tea which carefully evaluates the heraldic achievement of the man then known as “Prince” upChuck. He also did the “number of the name” thing converting the official name “Prince Charles of Wales” into Hebrew and counting up the numbers according to the rules, and getting that six hundred sixty and six figure prominent in various Scriptures (Old and New Testaments).
My other distant connexion to upChuck is to his ancestor, elector of Hanover and usurper of the English throne, Georgie the second. It was Anno Domini 1746 when Georgie had his men clear my family off our land in the Highlands around Tulloch, not far from Inverness. Our family were condemned to transportation for life to Virginia colony. You see, we favoured the Stuart family line of succession in the recent war against the Hanoverian usurpation. To say that the Hanover (now posing as Windsor) family is vindictive would be understatement, as is tradition.
Our family was cargo in the hold of a commercial ship going to Virginia. Our indentures had been purchased by a plantation owner there. Yes, Virginia had many white slaves from Scotland and Ireland and Wales, among other places, so you can take your BLM Marxism and cram it in a tight orifice. One of our family was a babe in arms who died during the crossing.
There was a storm, as the story has come to me, and the ship was not able to make landfall in Virginia. Instead the captain found safe harbour in New York. But the harbour master wouldn’t let him leave without the duty being paid on the cargo, which was us and some dozens of other wretches. The captain didn’t want to pay, and didn’t want to forsake the lucrative cargo that was available to him and didn’t want to wait for the owner of our indentures to come all the way from Virginia. So he asked “what if they are passengers,” and on learning that meant he was free to go, and so were his passengers, he went into his cabin and burnt the indentures.
So we arrived in New York, free, considerably worse for the wear, and impoverished by the filthy usurpers who sat on the English throne. And the child was buried ashore, as our family wept and mourned.
Franklin and the Plantation Owners
If you have ambition to understand how things are the way they are today, you might want to actually go read the diaries of that one guy who took notes every evening during the constitutional convention in Philadelphia in 1787. Oh, sure, they all swore a blood oath of secrecy, which is not exactly the sign of good intentions, but this one fellow was determined to write down as much as he could. So after the convention adjourned for the evening, he would go back to his lodging and sit up until he had noted down the days events and motions and discussion. You’ll find the only record of the perfidy of the plantation owners and demon worshippers in his notes.
Benjamin Franklin was a member of the hellfire club. He was a demon worshipper. And his answer, when the Philadelphia matron was encouraged to ask what the convention had wrought was: “a republic, if you can keep it.” Which he knew full well, could not be done. The constitution was written to arrange for a government of plenary power. It was never meant to limit its powers, and the after thought of a bill of rights that was appended to help win ratification in the midst of the detailed arguments of Patrick Henry, Benjamin Farmer, and other anti-federalists, was never given any teeth. There is no enforcement clause that punishes anyone for ever violating the rights of the people nor for usurping their powers nor for usurping the powers of the several states.
Franklin, Madison, Jay, Hamilton, Washington, and the others at the convention in Philadelphia were some of the best educated men in the world. They knew every word they wrote, and they knew that they wrote about a constitution of the United States as well as a constitution for the United States. Ken Royce in his excellent book Hologram of Liberty available from Ken’s own Javelin Press goes into great detail about the pursuit of absolute power that is evident in how the constitution was written.
I’ll just make a few notes here. The Declaration of independence mentions God four times. The Articles of Confederation mention God one time. The constitution mentions God zero times, and in the body of the constitution it forbids any test of religious faith to hold public office, so you have enthusiastic demon worshippers and child sacrificers and blood drinkers in office in the district of corruption today.
Where things stand
As I mentioned in my comment on Bill’s essay, we now stand at a very interesting time in American history. World trade, which was the purpose of our consistent dollar (previously defined as twenty dollars to the ounce of gold, from 1792 to 1933), is being shut down. Part of that is due to the actions of Obama, Nuland, and the deep staters running the “Biden” administration. Part of the closing of world trade is due to other policies being implemented around the globe on behalf of the Hanoverian usurpation. For example, Liz Truss was prime minister when she helped ensure the detonation of explosives to destroy the gas pipeline supplying Russian natural gas to the German manufacturing economy.
Inflation is crippling American families. That is deliberate. Jerome Powell hates American families, hates middle class home owners, and works very hard for his lords and masters at the World Economic Forum destroying prosperity as much as possible. Ending dollar finance is being accomplished through the seizure of Russian foreign exchange reserves in Europe, in the UK, and in the USA, with the now legislated intention of spending those funds in Ukraine, Israel, and to encourage more immigration over the border into the USA.
These things are ending, the world trade, the dollar finance. But some things have already been ended, so let’s go over a few of those. Defence of the high seas by an effective American fleet of naval vessels is gone. You can see that at the Southern entrance to the Red Sea, a place that I spent quite a lot of time in 2000 and 2001. The Bab el Mandeb waterway has now been ceded to the Houthi. Tankers and cargo ships bound for Israel cannot pass through, and many other ships won’t because their insurance providers are afraid. As well, the Yemen military can now close traffic through the Strait of Hormuz on the Persian Gulf any time they want, which ought to send a tremor through the spines of sultans and emirs in the United Arab Emirates, in Kuwait, and in whatever passes for a gooferment in Iraq.
Other things Obama has gone out of his way to end: meritocratic advancement is now “racism” and didn’t-earn-it Diversification Exclusion and Idiocy policies are now mandated by the disgusting pervert Larry Fink and the investor cartels at Blackrock, State Street, and Vanguard. Some time ago the concept of “trust busting” that gained such prominence under Teddy Roosevelt has also been ended. The Feral Trade Commission and related groups are much more likely to encourage and approve the formation of cartels and trusts than do anything to oppose them.
Also ended is effective education. The ardent Marxists of the nationalist socialist education association and other teacher unions have always been against freedom, humanity, decency, God, and good education. They have always wanted higher pay, less work, and zero accountability. They now want to encourage children to be mutilated by Pritzker’s surgeons in his hospitals and by other “do as much harm first” doctors through puberty blockers and castration. Teachers are against education. It’s sort of epic in its madness, when you think of it.
We ended some things, too
This essay may seem a bit too “black pill” so let me say a few things about what is good going on. I should probably also mention a few thoughts on the “pill” related colour schemes.
Morpheus, the character in the film “The Matrix” from 1999, says, “You take the blue pill, you stay in Wonderland, wake up in your own bed, and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the red pill, and I show you how deep the rabbit hole goes.” So, if you want to stay asleep, you take the blue pill. If you want to wake up and understand reality, you take the red pill.
Bitcoin enthusiasts talk about the orange pill, because they got tired of fighting Peter Schiff and Euro Pacific Capital over what is a gold pill. Bitcoin does change a lot of things about money, and other changes are continuing to arrive.
White pill is a glimmer of something good in this world. You find lots of people offering white pills, which are meant to give you hope and reason to continue living. Black pill, then, is meant to signify depression, sadness, and perhaps ending it all because you don’t see a way out. I will say at this time that there is no way back, you cannot get back to how things used to be, and if you did, things would simply lead to being the way they are now again, before long. There is a way out, though, and it is through the troubles we see immediately before us.
So what have we on our side ended? We have ended control of information with the Internet. We have ended their control of encryption with open source cryptography. We have ended their control over the issue of money with precious metal bullion rounds, with Goldbacks, and with crypto-currencies. We have ended their ability to effectively invade privacy with functional application of virtual privacy networks, end to end encryption, and various masques for transaction information. We are in the process of ending their ability to tax or regulate any economic event. Which is, of course, why they are so desperate to gain more total control, now, before it is too late.
It is already too late, though, for them. The demon worshippers will be thrown down, their control is being ended, and the demons cast out.
I don't fear for America. The people of America are God-fearing, good, hard working, and resilient as anything. Nor do I care a whit for the nationalist socialist communist dictatorship posing behind the plantation slavery constitution. The district of corruption, which Bill calls Mordor on the Potomac, is not worth saving. A reckoning comes, and some people are going to be involved in bringing it.
Up your preps folx. Spicy times are ahead.
Freedom
You may have noticed that a great many people who are enthusiastic about individual liberty, private property, and free markets are not putting together armed militia groups to intervene in domestic affairs. There are rumours of those, and there are garbage fbi fake ops called Patriot Front. But people are not actually marching around on parade with guns and pick-up trucks reworked as technicals and missile systems. There is no Revolutionary Cadre for freedom because having one would be idiotic.
The people in the district of corruption would be well served by a rebellion that they would ruthlessly put down. They would murder and rape all the children, all the spouses, the men and the women, and put bodies on display because that is who they are. See also the Waco Massacre, the murder of Vicky Weaver at Ruby Ridge, and the conduct of the military in Guantanamo, Abu Ghraib, and various battles in all parts of the world since 1991 (or any other date you care to choose).
Freedom doesn’t come from parades of gun owners, and you very rarely see gun owners on parade. They know better. They know that whatever is done by groups like Patriot Front is a false flag operation to make freedom enthusiasts look bad, which turns out to be tricky because the fbi have no idea what freedom enthusiasts look like, let alone how to make us look bad.
Freedom is coming. And it will come, as it always does, from God the Father Almighty, from Jesus Christ, His only son, our Lord, and from the Holy Spirit. Don’t be taken in by false promises from politicians and rabble rousers. Stay calm. Stay awy from state capitals and nationalist capitals. Care for your family and your friends.
God provides. Praise God. Amen.
That’s all I’ve got for today. Come back next time when I have something new. Or old.
“We are in the process of ending their ability to tax or regulate any economic event. “
What does this mean?
I enjoyed your article; it’s enlightening. Thank you for the encouragement at the end.