This report is about leverage – to get everyone to Diaper, at least once. And to get everyone Needled, eventually.
The former, to get across that they can make you – at least once – given the right sort of leverage, even if you loathe the hateful rag and everything it stands for. The purpose of this being to show who’s boss and that you are not. More deeply, it is done to get you to betray yourself.
That goes for women, too. But for men, especially. We are supposed to be the ones who protect women from being degraded in such ways.
You can try to tell yourself that you had to. And perhaps, you did. Some people have had to choose between putting the despicable thing on their face or face being jobless and possibly, on account of that, homeless. They have responsibilities.
And they have leverage.
Some did it because it was the price of being allowed to see a dying family member. Italics to make the point regarding who’s boss. Even as regards your most personal family relationships.
How did that make you feel?
And that is just the point.
They got you to do it – and you know you did it. That is what they needed, above all. It was and is the whole point of this evil Kabuki. It is why practically anything qualifies as a “mask” – no matter the obvious absurdity, from a medical point-of-view, of a bandana or a modified brassiere – both of them serving as the Willie Wonka Golden Ticket to being allowed – italics, again – to live.
The purpose was never medical.
It was – and remains – psychological. The Rag is about abasement. You efface your face – the thing that once showed the world who you are. In its place, you are made to show something else.
It serves precisely the same purpose that is served when a schoolyard bully gets another kid to degrade himself in some soul-crushing manner. It is about more than who’s boss. It is about who is master.
It is about who gave in.
And the loss of self-respect and confidence in one’s own integrity that always attends, no matter what you tell yourself you just had to do.
The effect of that is emotionally and psychologically devastating. Ask any kid who has been bullied; ask an abused spouse.
It is the same technique applied at airports – using “terrorism” as the basis for terrorizing the passengers, by letting them know they are powerless. By humiliating them in the most intimate way – via physical touch of their most intimate areas, as they stand helplessly legs-splayed, allowing it to happen.
That is no accident.
It is training.
In pre-terroristic times, it was understood that a free person’s person was sacred; that only prisoners and victims of assault got touched without their consent. This form of terror-conditioning having been normalized, it was subsequently expanded. Now they violate your face, in order to hurt your soul.
The common denominator is the same. We can make you do it and you know you let us do it.
About our vulnerability. That we aren’t – as we once thought – the free men and women we imagined ourselves to be. Italics again, to make the point.
That we would never accept . . .
And here we are.
What else we accept? Rest assured, more will be expected.
There are a few who have never once wore the loathsome rag and for us, it is a proud symbol of defiance. But we should be honest with ourselves. I try to be, at least. I’ve never once put the damned thing on. But then, I haven’t had to – in order to remain employed (since I work for myself) or to obtain necessaries (since I could, even at the height of Rag Fever, because not all the stores in my area refused to allow me in sans the Rag).
But they are working the problem.
There is my mother, imprisoned for the past year-plus in a “care” facility for people with dementia; I know I will never be allowed to see her again without the Rag over my face. I have decided that is a price I will pay, knowing my mother’s mind on the subject before she lost her mind. We disagree on many things, but her attitude toward this sort of evil idiocy is identical to my own and I know she would never willingly wear the Rag herself nor expect me to.
So I will be able to avoid making that choice. Or rather, I will choose not to be leveraged into making the choice to wear the god-damned Rag, even just the once. To see her for the last time.
But my shoulder is killing me.
Well, it is keeping me from getting much if any sleep and that probably will kill me, eventually. If I knew what was wrong with it, I might be able to do something to correct it. But that requires imaging, which means putting on the god-damned Rag. Many others are facing a similar Sophie’s Choice.
Stay psychologically and emotionally healthy. Or sacrifice one’s physical health.
It is impossible, or close to impossible, to get any medical attention without performing the Ritual of Abasement and Agreement. Which is the same, ultimately, as spreading your legs as the price of getting the thing they have and know you desperately need.
It is . . . sickening.
If they can get you to submit – even once – then they have taken something away you’ll never get back, like your virginity. And that is why they are doing everything they can to make you do it, even if just once.
Because once is the same as forever.
Getting everyone Needled will be simpler on account of their having already succeeded in getting almost everyone to submit to the Rag. People are so beaten they haven’t got much fight left in them. They just want to get on with it, whatever the cost.
Just as planned.
But it’s one hell of a price to pay.
. . .
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