A slow-motion car crash

Most of us will have had that experience where things have gotten out of control and disaster is inevitable, but the split second between the realisation and the impact seems to last forever.

Falling off a bike or a horse. Realising you’ve missed your opportunity to brake in time for the bend, beyond which is a precipitous drop. Seeing the sliding tackle coming in directly towards your knee.

You sense the inevitable, you (figuratively) shut your eyes tight and wait for the horrible pain, the tearing of skin, muscle and ligament, the crunch of bones and teeth, the visit to the hospital, the miserable healing period and the rehabilitation to a state where you will never quite be the same again, and will have to cope with for the rest of your life.

That’s where we are now. In the time between the dawning realisation and the life-threatening crash.

Some people fail to realise or understand that we’re beyond the point of no return, heading over a socioeconomic cliff. Others are programmed to plumb the depths of denial, lest they have to confront the reality that’s heading our way.

We know what comes next: Loss of jobs and homes, loss of life, shattering of families, job security out of the window, lower standards of living, higher taxes, a bigger more overbearing state, pulverisation of civil society, destruction of children’s social education, crumbling mental health, demolition of the underpinnings that enable our innate human social being. 

While I get that there’s nothing to be gained from running around with our hair on fire, putting our heads in the sand and singing la-la-la amounts to egregious denial of reality.

So what are we to do?

Well, all we can do now is campaign for the earliest possible return to something approaching normal. A side-serving of accountability and justice for those who were at the wheel would be nice, but first, let’s get the show back on the road.

We have to get out in the streets, in the biggest numbers we can muster. If we’re going down, like hell will we go quietly.

We will have to hold our noses at the 5G/Vax numpties and get out there, make our presence felt, seen and heard in the public square. Peacefully would be ideal; the coppers won’t hesitate to compound the injuries being currently inflicted on us all.

The government is not your friend, the police are not your friend. They are the grifters and bullies in the playground that are best avoided.

But that doesn’t mean staying in the house and hiding from the fuckers. Until they see us out on the streets, en masse, it will not start to sink in. Similarly, lots of people will have misgivings, and I can see this Saturday having a fairly small turnout, but so long as we can stay 1 step ahead of the internet censors, and refuse to engage with the MSM who will inevitable paint us as troublemakers who are putting the public at risk, we can cut through and start to gain a critical mass.

I foresee the need to get out there week after week until the dam breaks. And break it will. People haven’t forgotten how they lived 2 months ago and as their precarious financial positions start to become clear to them, their social lives die on the vine, their holidays cancelled (and paid for), their daily endeavours fraught with restrictions, rules, nannying, hectoring and little hitlers, the anger will build. Let’s channel it constructively.

See you there.



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