It looks like I may well have seriously misled you all in the last Slogpost – in which case, mea culpa….and herewith an explanation in mitigation.
The theme of the piece was very much one of the US election scheduled to take place on November 5th 2024, using the slogan, 'It's all about November'. [Those on the far side of the Pond who threw off British colonial rule a long time ago may be surprised to learn that over there in Blighty, November 5th is still celebrated as the date when Catholic plotters were caught in the act of trying to blow up Parliament in 1605. We call it Bonfire Night because those around the plot's Guido Fawkes conspiracy were all unceremoniously burnt to death: it's the nearest thing we civilised Limeys have to the 4th July in the US of A].
Of late, I haven't been in the best of health, a situation not helped by floods, the UK State's baseless decision to stop my State Pension dead, and casually mendacious incompetence on the part of my freeholders here. In the midst of all that, somehow the show-trial sentence of spuriously invented corruption charges against Donald Trump scheduled for later this month – Monday 18th September – fell off my radar.
One key reason for this was that a Slog source of nearly twenty years standing – the lady I dubbed Mrs Mayflower based on her impeccable East Coast NYC genes – convinced me that the sentence against Trump would be one of a suspended prison term.
To be clear about this, without Agent Mayflower my influence in the US would simply not exist: she made my name online there by dishing the 100% full-on dirt to me about the plot to keep Dominique Strauss-Kahn away from any chance to make the IMF other than simply one more tool of global hegemony during 2011.
It was the biggest scoop I ever had, and yet when I asked her "Why give this to me?" she replied, "Because you are the only one out there who gets it".
I do not exaggerate when I say this was, in retrospect, by far the biggest compliment I've ever been paid professionally by anyone about anything in my relatively ordinary life.
Mayflower went up to the Blogspot on the astral plane earlier this year. I took her judgement on the likely outcome of the 18th September sentencing for granted. In no way at all is this a critique of her: quite the contrary, it radiates just how unutterably without any remorse, balanced thought or love of freedom the US Demrats have become.
She hoped for better from Mammon's gargoyles. They pissed on her grave.
Above all however, none of this can excuse my mistake: every life is full of trauma most of the time….and I let myself down on this occasion. I fucked up.
It took people of the stature of John Day to differ without damnation, and wisely point me gently at The Saker's probably far more accurate analysis of just how nasty the Surveillance State's 18th September sentence is likely to be.
So for "It's all about November", please now read "It's all about September".
And the new September appointment now looks even more ghastly than the November rematch.
Face it folks, it's all good news here at the Slog.
For the Saker's piece lays out an ironically satirical case (if you're a BLM neo-Nazi fucktard) for saving democracy by abusing Free Speech.
On September 18th, we're damned if we do and damned if we don't: if we do nothing about putting the most popular POTUS candidate for decades in jail, then we approve what's being done purely in our interests. But if we induce a riot as a result of perverted ideological injustice, then we are of course insurrectionists and deserve to be re-programmed as Hillary Gulag and her settled scientists might have it.
I think maybe you can sense my guilt here about missing this trick. As Saker man Paul Craig Roberts opines, "One would think that the issue of one political party sentencing the presidential candidate of the other political party to prison six weeks prior to the election would be a major issue dominating the news and public discussion. But it is not".
Blackrock rules, OK.
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Two guiding lights throughout my life 'After Work' have been "It's a thousand times more easy to make a new enemy than it is to keep an old friend"; and "While being right attracts admiration, the most solid learnings come from mistakes".
The greatest problem with the digital, multi-screen, smartphone life we have created is that it is – from end to end – a Liar's Charter.
The five primary senses of sight, hearing, smell, taste and touch tell us far more, via the use of factory-wired instinct, than mere digitally inscribed words.
As Great Aunt Lizzie opined time and again, "Fine words do not butter the parsnips".
The internet and its immediate offshoots are no guide at all to the person maybe two screens, twenty emails – and perhaps at most only one language away - from oneself.
Let me pose a question here: how much time do you spend each day in 'Now'?
That is to say, using only your five primary senses to judge what's happening – how often do you need [in that same moment] to see, hear, smell and touch the experience you're enjoying or enduring.
Because if you can't, then it isn't real. It is tele.
Those who rule over us and ride roughshod over our civil rights as citizens have always – and will always – manipulate our view of what is real and present, in order to make us variously angry, violent, jingoistic, and frightened. The secret services, the military, those selling the myth of glorious death, ideologically twisted politicians, global pharma, climate emergencists and all the rest of Homo sapiens' detritus of power-hunger: they all work on the same principle of vicious control, believing as they do that Abe Lincoln was wrong….you can fool all the people all of the time.
I live on what the Tourist Board here in ECOWAS Africa calls the Smiling Coast of Gambia. If it's all so smiley-happy-clappy, why is every compound wall covered in ten miles of barbed wire? Why does every property developer and village cropper need to hire fulltime security protection to stop bags of cement or all the carrots disappearing during the night?
But this kind of compliance with BS is no better or worse than dopey Nancy Pelosi's carefully crafted image as 'a cultured San Franciscan politician from an esteemed family' [so wonderfully demolished by Rochelle Schweizer nearly fifteen years ago
when she wrote about 'Pelosi's carefully orchestrated rise to power as a uniquely American ruling-class diva who is not so subtly replacing "by the people, for the people" with "have your people call my people." From her father - a congressman and then mayor of Baltimore whose political machine was tainted by scandal - Pelosi learned about patronage, ruthlessness, and the credo of the party boss: never admit to anything, never apologize, and attack when challenged'].
Pelosi is indeed an attack-bitch, a lush, and a far greater fascist threat to Free Speech Democracy than Putin could ever hope or want to be.
Another lie contained even therein: "Free speech". But has not Elon Musk decreed that that the X artist formerly known as Twitter now welcomes all shades of opinion providing you pay him a monthly fee for the right to express them?
You couldn't make it up: Free Speech is not a Right, but a Privilege...only available to those with the munnneeeee to pay for it.
All aboard for the Amerikan Transam Special in the ever-accelerating Silver-Streak handcart to Hitlerite Hell.
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A common conversationally rhetorical question that captivated me [all those decades ago when I was first blown away by the vast physical beauty of the USA] was this one:
"Are you for real?"
Today fifty-seven years on, the Pelosis, Clintons, Blairs, Macrons, Arderns, Schwabs, Sunaks, Starmers and Chants from California to Canberra want to persuade you that top-down totalitarian World Government is the only realway forward.
There is nothing remotely real about any of it: apply the five senses rule, and their aims fall short of everything that typifies the nature of 3D reality as dictated by our local metaverse.
There's very little new in what I'm writing here and now. The only new element I am still trying to get across is that – when it comes to the internet as we now know it – the old adage of "Sup with the Devil but use a long spoon" simply doesn't cut it.
Sup in Satan's Steakhouse, and sooner rather than later he will present a Bill that forces you to write agitprop bullshit as if such prose might have even the remotest empirical basis in fact.
The only Resistance now lies with those prepared to go Underground….and throw off the cloak of online "Oped".
They know that the Digitalis don't give a flying fuck about your opinion.
"When the going gets tough, the tough get going" is a well-established US corporate cliché.
On the whole since around 2009, my experience has been, "When things get real, the Groupies let you down".
One cannot trust any acquaintance established from online contact alone until such time as a serious intention to man the barricades has been proven by a willingness to take a risk that risks everything.
For what lies imminently ahead is about more than any of that, and I'm going to have to hurry you re this one.
Either give up something dear to you in a final bid to stop the Allosaurus dinosaurs, or live with the guilt of having let them eat your grandchildren.
Enjoy the rest of your weekend.
The Slog wishes to extend especial thanks to my "platform" WordPress who did everything in its power to fuck this post up from start to finish.
As per Nosforatu and the long spoon, I rest my case.
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