I heard a funny story. At work a woke guy was virtue signaling to his colleagues and described how he brought his kids to attend a BLM protest in the downtown of his city and how successful the outing was. So, one of his co-workers asked, “Oh? How successful? Did you get a forty or sixty inch?”
I was on a zoom today with some friends that hadn’t spoken all together since Election Night. We had a bunch of stuff to discuss because of just how crazy everything has gotten since November. I won’t go into any details because it’s not my place to and because it’s neither here nor there for this post but suffice it to say that in general it was about how to avoid the worst problems of living in the gulag. And I will say that the tone was surprisingly upbeat.
But what is relevant about that discussion was an attitude. Each one of us had been to a greater or lesser degree angry and dejected by the obvious fraud back in November. But over the course of the following months and the unfolding outrages perpetrated by all levels and branches of American government that led to Dementia Joe being perjured in to office behind razor wire and drawn bayonets, we absorbed that damage from the fraudulent election and shrugged it off. And now we’re openly contemptuous of not only the Pretend President but of the whole Managerial State in all its monolithic putrescence.
The men on that call had only one thing in common. We each grew up in New York City while it was still part of a free America. We remember what things are supposed to be like in this country. We recognize and will deflect the Orwellian practices that the woke fascists have adopted in every branch of their lockstep complex. Their goal, basically, is the suppression of freedom in all its dimensions. They want to memory hole the truth about our world. They rewrite the history books and purge books; movies and even stupid television shows to stop people from having their feelings hurt about who and what they are. But we know that won’t prevent us from living our lives the way we want. We’ll bring our children up to know the truth.
And we traded some good stories about the idiocy that is unfolding in DC. We all got a good laugh over that old, bald, fat guy in a dress and wig that Dopey Joe put in his cabinet. It was emblematic of the whole woke nightmare that we are enduring. A mental patient who can’t tell the difference between being a man and being a woman is put in charge of a major federal health agency and we are the ones accused of being anti-science.
But the other thing we all agreed on was that we’re ready to start making plans to get together this summer. And this time it won’t be virtual it’ll be face to face. By then even if that doddering old idiot hunkered down in the White House basement still wants to make believe that the black death is stalking the landscape, we are going to have a barbecue and celebrate God’s miracle of summer.
So, this was another good day. I spoke to real Americans and mocked the losers who are pretending to be our masters. I made plans to get together with people who believe the same things I do and Camera Girl is cooking one of my favorite dishes. That’s a pretty good day.