I type this sitting – Undiapered – at the fallback hangout spot, the one I have been going to for the past several weeks after my excommunication from the Sweet Donkey Coffee shop in Roanoke, for Diaper Apostasy.
No attempt to get me to join the Cult today. Possibly because I came with a friend – and two are harder to pressure into joining a Cult. It is probably a good idea to confront the Cultists in multiples for that reason and also because there is less threat to yourself when there’s someone there who has your back. And – god help us – there is the implied threat to the Diaperers of dealing with two or more might-get-physical guys. Not that I would – but let ’em think I might, if it keeps their Sickness Psychosis in check.
We are, after all, dealing with the sick.
There is another factor at play, too. It is the hidden apostasy of the help. The people behind the counter or at the door who wear the Diaper, having been forced to join the Cult – but who secretly despise it and will do what they can to undermine it.
As by not saying anything to you, the heretic who shows his face despite the sign on the door which says you mustn’t. This is what happened – or rather, didn’t – today.
My friend Big Jeff and I walked boldly in as though all was normal – thereby refusing to participate in this sick pretend-play that it isn’t. Which serves to normalize the abnormal, in part by making the sick (in the head) feel as if they are normal, which they shouldn’t feel – being sick in the head.
A reminder of that is the first step toward recovery – of their mental health.
The point is that Diapering is deceptive; what we are seeing is not necessarily a show of the belief in Diapering but rather the illusion of belief. This is done by imposing Diapering on as many people as possible, especially people who would otherwise not Diaper but do so under duress – because if they don’t they will lose their jobs.
But they can monkeywrench.
As by saying nothing – and perhaps nodding, in a friendly manner – at an Undiapered. By acting as if the sight of a person without a Diaper over his face was perfectly . . . normal.
This is what happened today.
The girl who rang up our stuff was on our side, even if she couldn’t show it. But she let us know it by not making a stink about our Undiaperdness. This is of a piece with the person who looks the other way in totalitarian societies when they see something illegal which they know ought not to be. They are afraid to challenge the law openly but by not doing anything when they see it flouted they are doing plenty.
Coerced by the awful regime of insanity that has descended on this country to pretend by assuming the appearance of insanity while maintaining a safe space for sanity in your head and within your orbit, to the extent you’re able.
This pretending is what the Cult must have in order to thrive. It cannot brook the appearance of apostasy – which serves as a proxy for orthodoxy.
Don’t let them make you believe.
There is, of course, a flip side to this. It is the side I encountered the last time I came to the new hangout place – by myself.
A different girl rang me up. This one tried to induct me into the Cult, with the catechism of the Holy Diaper and its various injunctions. I rejected these without directly challenging any of the articles of the Faith. I merely recited the Exemption Mantra, which has some puissance.
It is best articulated in the form of: I cannot wear a Diaper safely. Then say nothing more. If they say nothing more, onward and upward. If they continue to recite the Diaper Catechism, it is time to recite the reformation thesis as specified by the ADA and, if this doesn’t secure genuflection, ask to speak to a higher and get names and such. Tell ’em you won’t take it – and will report it.
It might not get traction but it might get them worried enough to back down, which is everything in this battle.
. . .
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