conspiracy theories

Plus ça Change, Plus C’est la Même Chose- Except for the Scenery

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I don’t remember much from high school French, other than the old saying that the more things change, the more things stay the same. Maybe if our illustrious French teacher, Mme. Novatny, could have gone out to smoke fewer than 3 Virginia Slim Menthol 120s per 45 minute class period, I might have learned more French in three years than je m’ennuie tellement. (I am so bored.) Apparently the Gen X ennui wasn’t confined to the Marion Harding Class of ’86. We were exemplary at it, but we didn’t realize it was a generational trait. We were told there was something wrong with just us.

Fast forward 38 years, and the ennui remains. For me, so does the depression and the sense of being deprived. Our heritage and history were stolen.

We lived the fall of the 20th century, just as we were coming of age. In 1983, as we were cranking up the Frontiers album and Steve Perry reminded us that all the heroes have gone east of Eden, we were in a very real sense being banished from the utopian idealism of the modern age.

We weren’t born with silver spoons in our mouths. We were thrown outside to fend for ourselves while Mom locked the screen door and turned up the TV.

We were born in the fallout of the end of a golden age, and we were denied our own.

I struggled from the beginning- overworked, underpaid, living in constant anxiety and existential dread. Add two failed marriages, near death in childbirth, working for insane employers for 20+ years, and dealing with years of chronic pain and expensive chronic illnesses, and I am just as downtrodden and hopeless as I was in 1986. I have absolutely nothing to show for all the aggravation. I am not beautiful or wealthy or successful or well liked. Nothing has changed there.

Only now I know that all my striving wasn’t worth a damn. If I would have known where I would end up I wouldn’t have tried so hard.

Granted, I have taken more of an interest in learning a second language. I have been studying German for about three years. Ich bin müde, und hoffnungslos. Je mehr sich die Dinge ändern, desto mehr bleiben sie gleich…

I cling to God. That part is different because I was so confused and cynical about spiritual things when I was younger. I honestly believe that it is by the grace of God alone that I haven’t blown my brains out. Lord knows it has been a temptation at times.

If anything my life has been an exercise in futility. Perhaps I should read Ecclesiastes again, or maybe Job. I don’t have a right to question God. It doesn’t make the futility of life make sense though.

So Where Is the Balance?

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It’s hard for me to remember the last time I thought the government was worth trusting. Come to think of it, my natural inclinations go back to that old dichotomy posited by the behavioral psychologist Erik Erickson – Trust vs. Mistrust.

I don’t trust jack squat. I grew up with a bi-polar mother and a sociopathic older sister. Compound that with being a high functioning autistic with serious anxiety issues, and it’s a miracle of faith that I trust in the law of gravity. Then again, I’ve fallen down more than enough times to know that’s one law that doesn’t get broken even though my bones just might.

Of course I don’t trust the current government at any level anymore than I would trust a Taco Bell, White Castle, and boiled egg fart.

I can say this much regarding any attempt to re-hype the COVID narrative. I don’t believe the ends warranted the means- nobody uses a machine gun to kill a housefly. One, the machine gun will only inflict collateral damage. You can destroy property and kill people while the housefly goes merrily on.

Humanity has suffered various plagues since the Fall and will continue to do so. If we find the means to defeat one plague, another will rise as surely as maggots arise on roadkill.

To add insult to injury, the various COVID vaccines have proven at the least to be ineffective and at their most detrimental people are dying from the effects of the vaccines. Many of us were threatened with our livelihoods should we have chosen not to get the vaccine.

So the balance between bodily autonomy and public safety is a fine line. For there are those who scream bodily autonomy at all costs- ironically the liberal left who regards the unholy sacrifice of the unborn to Molech as a sort of anti-sacrament to their god of secular humanism simultaneously demands that one and all receive an untested and potentially lethal vaccine because “stopping the spread” is imperative to public health. What about the poison you force me to put into my body without proof of either its safety or efficacy?

I add an important aside- I have no issues with vaccines that are proven and do save lives from deadly diseases. Vaccination in general does protect personal and public health. But the COVID vaccines have been proven to be both harmful to many people and largely ineffective.

Whose bodily autonomy?

Whose health?

Certainly the health of the victims of abortion is of no concern- the aim for those unfortunate innocents is their demise.

What about those who have died and who will die from the effects of these flawed and deadly vaccines?

What about those who suffer the collateral damages of the vaccines, i.e. those with autoimmune diseases whose diseases have been drastically exacerbated by the vaccines?

I am not the only one who has experienced more- and more intense- RA flares since having the vaccines.

The take away for me is not to go along to get along. I am going to die soon enough. The government wants to kill off as many people in my age bracket as possible, especially those who don’t go along with the program.

I am not playing the game any more, especially when the “cure” is far worse and does nothing to thwart the disease.

Take your mask mandates and stick them where the sun doesn’t shine. Also it will be a cold day in hell before I take an unproven vaccination again.

Conspiracy Theories, Dead Terrorists, and Men Who Wear Pants Pulled Up to the Waist

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I hope Osama is dead.  I don’t care who killed him, (though I must admit, as far as methods go, you can’t beat assassination by Navy SEALs, if that’s what really happened,)  or even if he choked to death on a hot dog (preferably a pork hot dog, if the true mode of death was asphyxiation by wiener.)  If he is indeed, dead, the world has been rid of someone almost as twisted and evil as Hitler.  Most people, excepting radical Muslims, regardless of their political preferences, are probably glad to hear this dude is taking the Dirt Nap- or in his case, Swimming With the Fishes.  I just have a lingering twinge of doubt in the back of my mind regarding: a.) did Obama have anything to do with the death of Osama?, and b.) whether or not Osama is really, truly dead. 

The timing of the Osama killing couldn’t be better for Obama.  It’s taken the attention away from the whole birth certificate fiasco (don’t know what to believe on that one either, but I seriously doubt Obama was born anywhere near Hawaii – or any other US state,) and from gasoline prices killing the economy- again. 

I smell price fixing, collusion, and just plain boldface lies- and at the center of it?  Obama.

Osama may have already been dead for years- or he may have dropped dead of some natural cause, and Obama’s been saving up the Osama Assassination Event to build up his street cred at a particularly strategic hour.  I can’t think of a better strategic hour than right now.  With the 2012 election coming up and his poll numbers in the crapper, he needs something to get the American people’s minds off of the very real possibility that not only do we have a sitting President who is ineligible to hold the office – and is crazy enough to run again,  he could also use something to distract Joe Sixpack from the fact that it’s going to cost him half the national debt to fill up his F-150.  The economy is going straight down the toilet while Obama and his pet contributors are on the take, and it appears that’s exactly how he planned it.  What better than a dead terrorist as a distraction- better yet, the Grand Pappy terrorist of them all?  It just smells very fishy- and way too expedient- to me.

The other thing I don’t get is why do we as Americans give a rat’s ass if Osama gets a proper Muslim burial?  Do terrorists assure that all the Christians they kill get appropriate Christian burial rites?  Do they have priests on the ready to give last rites to Catholics who die at terrorists’ hands?  And what about Jews?  Jews have their burial rules too, and I bet terrorists really don’t observe those either. I don’t think it was the US Navy’s responsibility to do anything other than make sure he’s dead and put the body put somewhere where it wouldn’t stink and draw flies. 

Burial at sea, while hygienic (granted-it won’t stink and draw flies six fathoms beneath the sea,) and a perfect way to maintain an unmarked grave, poses too many credibility questions.  How do we know they didn’t wrap up a couple of bags of cow manure in a white sheet and toss them over the edge and just say it was Osama?  I think they should have put him in the freezer and sent his carcass to a taxidermist so he could be mounted and displayed, so people could see for themselves that he’s really dead. 

Admittedly, today I’ve gone from my normal baseline pragmatism right into the heart of cynicism, but who can blame me?   I don’t trust Obama any further than I could throw him.  I don’t trust the media, who is in cahoots with him.  I also don’t trust the string-pullers who are price-gouging and profiteering and doing their damnedest to engineer another economic crisis.  All of these events don’t make me want to re-elect Obama.  They make me wish Congress would  have the stones to impeach him now, and run him and his cronies out on a rail. 

Anyway, I shouldn’t get too hung up on things I can’t change.  I have to deal with them, and while I still have the freedom to comment on them as I see them, I’m going to.  

Today I came across a man after my own heart.  I love this guy.  His commentary on the abysmal condition of  “customer service” in retail is a bit cheeky, but mostly true.   I know I’m getting old.  I bemoan the extinction of the Man Who Wears His Pants Pulled Up to the Waist with No Visible Underwear or Butt Crack. 

Pull up your damned pants!  Maybe I’m just old, but there’s no mystique or attraction to be found in some dude’s hairy, sweaty butt crack, or in getting a visual of his boxers or whitey-tighties.  I want to see dudes with their pants at the waist.