Living in a van down by the river has become a cultural catchphrase – it was part of a hilarious Chris Farley Saturday Night Live skit back in the ’90s about a depressed and broke motivational speaker.
But maybe it’s not such a bad idea.
In about a week, Americans could face the prospect of a federal mandate requiring them not only to join the Sickness Cult by adopting its uniform – the loathsome “mask” – but also extend their arms for the injection the government will likely attempt to mandate as well.
The problem then becomes one of mobility – and visibility. How to get away from the Diaper Police? Who may go door-to-door to make sure you take your medicine – and who will starve you out if you don’t, by keeping you “locked down” for the greater good if you don’t.
If you’re tied to your home, you are tied down. They know where you live. You literally have all your eggs – including your kids – in that one basket.
It may be time to consider getting mobile. Especially if you live among the Diapered – the actually ill ones ones who not only wear their religious garment willingly but are champing at the bit – if you could see them champing at the bit – to make you wear it, too. If the election goes the wrong way, they may soon have the power to do that.
I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. I love my place in The Woods of rural SW Virginia. It’s a beautiful area, with a reasonable climate and a relatively low cost of living. I moved here about 17 years ago to get away from Northern Virginia, the canker sore part of the state that’s adjacent to the federal capital, with all of its pathologies.
The problem is that Northern Virginia is increasingly all of Virginia, attitudinally and so politically. The sickness has leached across the state. If the election goes the wrong way, it may no longer be safe to stay. The governor/gesundheitsfuhrer has already let slip – via trail balloon – that he intends to force every person in the state to take his medicine.
Or rather, Bill Gates’ medicine.
Anything to “stop the spread” – of dissent.
The showing of your face being a show of disrespect for the holy doctrines of the Sickness Cult. It cannot be tolerated for the same reason that Winston Smith, the hero of Orwell’s 1984, could not be allowed to cling to the axiom that 2+2=4 because if that – i.e., objective reality – is granted then the regime has conceded there is something outside their power and superior it, which is immensely threatening to its power.
Winston – and all of us – must come to love Big Brother. It is not enough merely to obey him, out of fear of being punished if we do not. We must embrace the Diaper. We must accept the Needle.
Those of us whose brains aren’t mottled by the weaponized hypochondria of the Sickness Cult may face having to pick one of two options. The third option – wearing the holy cloth and partaking of the communion via the medicine – being off the table.
The first is to stay and hope – and be prepared to fight, if it comes to that.
I have been leaning this way for most of the duration of this plague – of psychosis. I have been hoping it would pass, like an epilectic fit. That enough people would, after a brief spell of being shellshocked by the manufactured fear campaign, come to their senses as it became evident that the only people who need to wear a respirator (as opposed to a “mask”) are people who have age-or-sickness weakened bodies, as has always been the case with regard to the catching of colds.
That the science – i.e., objective reality – would de-alarm people in no real danger of dying from this cold, for the same reason that most people continue to get in their cars every day even though there is a very small chance that they might die in an accident. The chance of them dying from the WuFlu being even smaller, I figured they’d come to their senses sooner rather than later.
And perhaps they still will.
But it does not look good. Literally. Even here, which is almost as far from Northern Virginia as it is possible to get without actually leaving Virginia, the wearing of the Holy Cloth has become almost universal, even though the requirements – decrees, actually – aren’t being actively enforced almost anywhere
And yet, the cloth is worn – suggesting the horrible possibility that the wearers want to wear their holy Face Diapers. Which suggests they will not object when the wearing of them is required by law – and actively enforced. More, that they will become the willing helpers of enforcement. And not just of the wearing of the Holy Diaper. They will be the “hands and fingers” that push the meds.
If that happens, which is almost certain to if the Orange Man loses – because the Hair Plugged Man has promised it will happen – then dissenters will be targets. Fixed targets, as they will be at home and their homes don’t move.
They could, of course, fight – if the cultists refuse to leave them alone. This is morally justifiable and even noble, but it may also be as pointless as fighting the tide.
But you can avoid getting soaked by the tide by moving out of its reach. This brings up the final solution, so to speak. It is in a way the same solution chosen by the people who fled Europe to come to this continent hundreds of years ago when Europe became intolerable. They moved to get out of the reach of the governments of Europe. Of the various politically empowered psychopaths who would not leave them be.
Rather than stand their ground, they found new ground.
An RV – or even just a van – could be a kind of modern Mayflower that way. If things get hairy, you can split. They can’t Diaper – or Needle – what they can’t get their hands on. And you can get a pretty nice RV – one with a full-size bed, a full kitchen and a full bathroom with a shower – for fraction of the cost of a home. If you own your home or have decent equity in it you could sell it to buy the RV – and use the remainder of the cash to finance your move as well as your stay – wherever you end up going.
It’s still a big country and there are places free of this psychosis or at least, where you can hide from it, once you find one.
It beats hell out of a three-month sea passage in a leaky wooden ship without hot or cold running water.
And it beats hell out of being force to don the Holy Cloth – and accept the Holy Needle.
. . .
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