The Movement is Freedom

FREEDOM

Like a coin, a vintage LP, or an old 45, freedom has a flip side. Two opposing dynamics. You’re an advocate, or you’re not. There’s no balancing act. No middle ground. You’re all in, or you’re out.

On one side, freedom-challenged acolytes, trembling in their anti-freedom movement, kowtow before the shrine of despots. Offerings of hard-fought rights and freedoms, butchered and bloody lay burnt upon the sacrificial altar of tyranny. The solemn remains, a determined smoky tendril of liberty glides disregarded through the air.

On the flip side of nowhere, a stony, slumbering giant who dreamt of freedom, courage, and self-determination rises at dawn, sniffs the air. They yawn. Rubbing the sleep from their eyes, they roar. Girding their loins for battle they stomp, a whirling cloud of dust swirls at their feet.

The earth rumbles.

The Movement is Freedom.


Today, September 17, is Constitution Day

Life, Liberty, Freedom, Prosperity


Image courtesy of Kellepics via Pixabay.com

When Democracy Dies

A short story from The Collection of Gruesome Inevitabilities, a work in progress.

When Democracy dies—

When we all live in the stink of government highrise tenements — hallways and doorways tagged with smut and gangster graffiti. Meagerly rooms overlooking a squalid city stained in the stench of slaughterhouses and dark-alley bagnios; the view through a grimy kitchen window over a leaky faucet on a rust-stained sink. A squalling baby on a ragged mattress. A hungry, snot-nosed toddler pulling at your pants. The TV blaring some indoctrinating cartoon.

When you’re mired in selfish grief, harboring a strange, slippery sense of longing.

When no one has any more than anyone else and everyone receives the same government stipend called equality. When every cupboard begs for the same meager rations of questionable ingredients. And every evening sees the same laughable economic progress report.

When all you have to look forward to is a repeat of yesterday. Of yesteryear.

When wilderness shrinks to a crowded park in the city center with its symbolic weeping willows. Its koi bloated and floating belly up in a filthy fountain of the reigning leader. Its feculent grounds litter filled with hypodermics, condoms, feces, and doped-up panhandlers rambling incoherently.

When you commute on crammed mass transits, vulgar and laden with the funk of greasy perfumes, warm piss, and the sour sweat of cheap bootleg whiskey.

When “Healthcare,” medications, and vaccinations are mandatory and you’re not allowed to breathe without a mask.

When they analyze your every word, thought, and expression, scouring for any trace of dissent or discontent. And every broadcast, commercial, and billboard airs a subliminal warning: be happy, fulfilled, and loyal to the state.

When your idle time turns to thrumming through mind-numbing games on your spyphone, but you never take time for painful self-reflection or the troubling contemplation of something more than an overshadowed existence.

When finally you’re empty of ambition and devoid of curiosity. When your imagination draws a blank in every corner. When fear and cowardice fuse a bitter taste in your mouth.

When the world turns gray and death resembles a reprieve, you’ll know they’ve won:

Liberty is dead,
and so it is read,
on the Gates of Nevermore.

Perception

From Where We See

They see and I see,
but from where we see, things appear differently.

Where they see their colorful illusions, the joys of life,
I see the dreadful pallors of an unjust fright.

They see clouds speckling a vibrant blue sky,
I see the contrails of fighter jets fly by.

They see the ocean waves crest high and true,
I see the mighty warships cut them through.

They see the gaiety of flowery blossoms covering  the earth,
I see the blood-steeped battlefields nourishing their mirth.

They see victory parades, loyalist colors flying a patriotic hue,
I see military conflict, war, and a bloody coup.

They see the exciting hustle and bustle of a vibrant downtown,
I see the rapes and pillages of villages burned down.

They see a God of love and forgiveness given their kin,
I see a myth fashioned to forgive them their sin.

They see energetic kids playing happily-go-luckily,
I see inanition from empty bellies swollen hungrily.

They see birds and bees pollinating the greens,
I see the herbicides and pesticides that silenced their wings.

They see the pitter-patter tracks of animal trails,
I see the spent and littered shotgun shells.

They see the comforts and pleasures of companion pets—
puppies, kittens, dogs, and cats.

I see the hell of slaughterhouses, factory farms, test labs—
their tortured animals, primates, and rats.

They see and I see yet for all the world from where we see,
things appear so damnably differently.


This is the re-envisioned version of a poem I wrote in 2017, and here it is four years later… How time flies, like bullets whizzing by. Screaming missiles through the sky.

Mass Psychosis

The Epidemic of Madness

Imagine burning the witches.

In early modern times, an epidemic of madness tortured, burned, drowned, and hanged witches and anyone accused of witchery.

Likewise, mass psychosis poisoned the soul of Germany during Hitler’s reign.

It gassed the jews.

And in no chronological order:

It enslaved the blacks, and continues to breed both white and color supremacy and builds enmity among all races and cultures.

It oppresses and discriminates against women.

It is the compulsion that kills animals out of some sort of ridiculous fear: snapping turtles, snakes, groundhogs, coyotes, bears, even spiders, and other crawly things.

It drove the inquisition.

It slaughtered the Native Americans.

It is the fuel that flames the fervor of Islam’s female phobia, their brutalization of women, and their patriarchal stupidity.

As I write, mass psychosis intensifies, furthering its assault on freedom. The Covidien Zealots, hornswoggled by an authoritative leviathan with its blood-sucking tentacles restraining reason. Posing as medical expertise with a parental devotion but serving its own nefarious end, tyranny. Infecting the world in an epidemic of madness by propelling covid hysteria to inscrutable heights of lunacy.

Fitting is the analogy of the Pied Piper of Hamelin and his stupefied rats as world populations march headlong and lockstep to their adversity.

But not everyone’s fooled.

Mass psychosis, it is the enemy of the individual. Robber of the courage and commitment to live free.

But a hero to the craven:

Just as tyranny depends on mass psychosis, the masses depend on tyranny.


“Unless we put medical freedom into the Constitution, the time will come when medicine will organize into an undercover dictatorship to restrict the art of healing to one class of men and deny equal privileges to others; the Constitution of this republic should make special privilege for medical freedom as well as religious freedom.” ~Benjamin Rush


Featured image courtesy of kellepics via Pixabay.com

The Need for Speed

After passing a lazy Malibu, a short stretch of interstate opens up. A teasing token from the Gods of Gridlock and Crowded Highways.

I switch open the active exhaust. The beast takes the cue and growls dauntingly. A deep monstrous rumble, she’s impatient. It’s been too slow for too long. For her. For me.

My skin crawls with trepid elation, like the high-octane snake running through her veins.

At 70 MPH, I drop into third gear, increasing RPM to match her speed.

In appreciation of anticipation, I hesitate before punching it; a moment to relish the roar and reverberations of 526 horses snarling menacingly and ready to bust all-ass loose.

Then…

It’s game on.

Like a cat on the prowl, she hunkers down and blasts off with an explosive roar—all teeth and claws.

The creature’s alive with punishing Gs as she forces me firmly against the seat. My upper lip curls into a devious grin, 100 MPH and accelerating like the proverbial bat.

Vision narrows with a predator’s instinct.

Heart pounding to the pulse of her eight pistons spinning a flat-plane crank, and I’m giddy as all fucking hell.

A daring glance at the speedometer shows 120 MPH and climbing, swiftly.

8,250 RPM sees a quick stab into fourth gear.

Up ahead, the span closes rapidly.

Too rapidly.

But she’s hungry: 130, 135, 140 MPH (225 KPH), twice the legal speed limit, and still the rate of acceleration seems yet to diminish.

But, just that quick, in less time than it takes to read this post, she’s devoured the road. It’s over. I have to back her off.

Until another day.

Another day and maybe the Gods will shower their gratuity once more—but with a slightly longer stretch of the open road, and like this day, one without the highway patrol.

One can only pray.

The Game

How to spot an NPC

Note: While some of these traits are often naively displayed by people playing characters, any collectible combination of the below should warrant suspicion.

NPCs (Non-playing characters) show unquestioning certainty in the official 24/7 narrative, regardless of the ocean of discordant information from the same sorry sources.

They display violent opposition to competing opinions. And seek to censor such.

Younger NPCs believe the government should provide their every care for free. Note: This is also the behavior of lazy, ambitionless people playing characters. Don’t be confused.

Older NPCs extol everything cooked up in the fermenting bowels of General Miley’s sizable gut and spewed from his belligerent Marxist maw.

All NPCs possess a prayerful devotion to Fauci.

They wear a mask inside, often in their homes.

They wear a mask outside, even in remote forests, desolate deserts, icy mountaintops, and empty parking lots.

NPCs demand everyone gets vaccinated with experimental, potentially detrimental drugs. But of course, they would, they’re immune.

NPCs like to think of themselves as Woke. I find this comical considering their absolute absence of any meaningful awareness.

Failing to acknowledge their own blatant hate-filled racism, NPCs postulate only whites could be racists.

NPCs accept as fact the “unsettled science” on covid-19 while unilaterally accepting the “settled science” on global warming. Understand, I’m not suggesting the climate isn’t a concern (everything is), but I’m betting all NPCs of the time canceled history on the much-to-do global cooling scare of the ‘70s. And that’s exactly what canceling history does, it makes people players forgetful and throttles critical thought. Exactly what the NPC hopes to achieve.

NPCs don’t own a gun and they don’t want anyone else to. Or, they own a gun but don’t want you to.

They honor George Floyd as a martyr while contending Ashli Babbitt got what she deserved.

On that note, and most ludicrous…

With no idea of what a real coup d’état entails, the NPC snowflake believes the events of January 6th, 2021 by a group of disenfranchised mostly peaceful protesters provoked by professional agent provocateurs (NPCs) attempted the unarmed and uncoordinated overthrow of a government in possession of the world’s greatest militarized force. The nonsensicality of such asinine accusation (reference: General Miley as Chief Asinine) is a dead giveaway of the more poorly programmed NPC, and it comes regardless of their civil/political/military standing.

And most damning…

While We the People are all capable of the occasional bad judgment call, NPCs cast ballots by the thousands for Biden and despite every damnable consequence since the illegitimate inauguration, the telling sign is the NPCs’ artificial intelligence doggedly denies the bugs in their programming by tenaciously backing their choice, their failure.

Remember, to paraphrase the NPC woke, “People silence is violence.”

Don’t be intimated.

Speak up.

Speak often.

Sanity depends on real people playing the game to win.

Jack and Jill

Jack and Jill

A short story from The Collection of Gruesome Inevitabilities, a work in progress.

Jack and Jill hiked up the mountain for a bit of exercise.

While on the ascent, Jack, an athletic specimen just eighteen short months ago, weakened muscles ached, and he struggled to breathe behind his triple-layer designer mask. He asked Jill, “Why don’t you ever wear a mask, or three, or five?”

Jill, fit as a fiddle with no trouble breathing, said, “Why should I?”

Jack, red face crazy with the vein on his forehead pulsing to burst, flabbergasted and heaving laboriously from his months-long oxygen deprivation and becoming increasingly threatening and foaming at the mouth, replied with explosive hysterics, “To stop the spread of KOVID!”

KOVID… Kovid… kovid…, echoed like a decree from the heavens, cascading down the mountainside, escalating an already elevated paranoia in the village idiots below.

Jill, suppressing a grin, seeing the mask’s tan lines and how silly Jack looked with his ears glowing beet-red and spread wide by the straps of his mask, asked, “Does a fart stay in your shorts?”

Once of quick mind, Jack puzzled, then flustered, asked, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Figure it out,” she said with the glee of amusement.

Dumbstruck aggravated, Jack countered, “Doesn’t matter. The Supreme Lord Doctor Faucheezy says…”

“Screw Faucheezy, Jack.”

By damn, that was the last straw. As with most everyone, Faucheezy was the object of his unquestioning worship and unwavering devotion. Flushed with outrage, Jack screamed with clenched fists and murderous fury, “Blasphemer!” But he exhausted himself in the process and wobbled like a weeble from his exertion. He had to rest and catch his breath and so sat on a rock near the mountain’s edge.

“Really, Jack? Blasphemer?” said Jill and started running in place while Jack recovered.

“Jill,” Jack wheezed, and with a really mean-spirited squint, warned her, “Either you wear a mask, or I promise, I’ll turn you over to GAG-ME. That’s the Global Anyone Granted Masking Enforcement if you need reminding. You know they have a zero-tolerance code of ethics. You could be executed, or get life in prison, or worse, you could be canceled! And then you’d still have to wear a fucking mask, any-fucking-way!”

“Jack, I’m your wife for Freedom’s sake,” pleaded Jill, alarmed and visibly shaken.

“It doesn’t matter, I’ll do it! I’m a citizen of the world,” he sneered smugly ugly. “Compelled by the greater good. And masks are for the greater good. Fuck you. Fuck freedom.”

Wanting to say more, but with diminished lung capacity and stifled by gnawing anger, Jack held up an index finger to silence Jill. Then continued, “As our wise and benevolent Emperor, The Honorable Bedridden himself proclaims, ‘We’re all in this together. Masks save lives. Everyone needs to do their part. We’ll get through this, together. Together with compassion.’”

Jill calmed herself and gave Jack a loving smile.

The twinkle in her eye.

And a gentle nudge.

Jack fell back, rolled, and tumbled down the mountainside, snapping his neck. So weakened and robbed of oxygen over the months, he couldn’t catch himself, or even holler for help.

The End

And the moral of this far-fetched fictional tale?

That’s for you to decide.


This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, events, and incidents are the products of my defiant imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, names, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental, I swear it’s true.


The featured image is a composite I made of images from these artists on Pixabay:
Jack and Jill by lizdunbar
Mountain scape by openclipart-vectors
Mask by dapple-designers

This work by Peter Schreiner is licensed under CC BY-ND 4.0

Pick a Fight, Get a Fight

Pick a fight, get a fight.

I didn’t become an advocate of the Right until the Left intensified its war on liberty while cramming their regurgitated Marxist vomit down our Amber Waves of Grain.

Perfectly content, I was, to live and let live.

Literally, live and let live.

It’s why I became vegan.

Get it? Live. Let live.

It’s all I ask.

But with the Left’s demonization of the white race, their nuclear bombardment on free speech, their unrelenting attacks on the second amendment, their cataclysmic open-border policy, their sinister designs for a socialist one-party state (aided and abetted by traitorous RINOs), their blackballing the unvaxxed, to their loony mathematically challenged president and his vice maladroit, I was left with no choice.

Pick a fight, get a fight.

Trump / Noem 2024!
Save America Trump 2024


Featured image courtesy of thommas68 via Pixabay.com

Once Upon a Time

Once Upon a Time…

… there was Magic
Real magic, like your fantasies love to imagine
Then they stole our magic, little by little
Taming the mystical with rational reasonability

… there was Spirituality
Real spirituality, that orthodoxy can’t emulate
Because they stole spirituality, little by little
Slaying our spirit with rigid rituals of religion

… there was Dreaming
Real dreams, those you yearn to recall
Then they stole dreams, little by little
Defeating our dreams with unyielding notions of reality

… there was Freedom
Real freedom, freedom our forebears died to defend
But they stole our rights, little by little
Freeing our freedoms with conquering Marxist creed

… there was I
Real I, that you’re ashamed to embolden
Because they stole I, little by little
Defining our I to the onus weight of we

… there was Life
Real life, like you no longer realize
Because they stole our fire, little by little
Smothering our flame with their cold straight and narrow

Once upon a time… little by little


Featured image courtesy of smimbipi via Pixabay.com

A Vote for Liberty

The Rise of Tyrants and Petty Votaries


“Your vote is a meaningless joke,” ~John Kay, Steppenwolf, 1969, song title, Monster.


That was my stance some thirty years ago shortly after casting my last vote. Concluding that elections were a joke, I rejected all party affiliation.

Opting instead for anarchy—and not the sort of lawless, unchecked chaos and destruction perpetrated by Antifa punks and BLM thugs. But Anarchy of the Spirit, the insulation and isolation of the soul, the meditative flavor that calmly says leave me the fuck alone, and we’ll coexist just fine.

“That government is best which governs least,” ~Henry David Thoreau

That was then. Little could I imagine how brazenly crooked the system would become. Nor did I foresee the unrelenting attacks on personal freedoms.

Despite the many glaring look-at-me voting irregularities of 2020 and the accompanying over-the-top self-incriminating denials of wrongdoing, there remain election-fraud deniers. And against all odds, those whose candidate won, no less.

Surprise, surprise.

—But understand, willful gainsay is an extraordinary protocol for the NPCs whose programming employs blinders and ridicule and lavish use of the term “conspiracy theory” at the first presentation of oppositional evidence. But then what would you expect?

The magnitude of election corruption sewn into the assaults on freedom cuts deep and personal.

“When in the course of human events…”

The Left is over governing.

And overbearing, untenable, inconsiderate, disobliging, rude, belligerent, intrusive, and bereaved of proper behavior. I’ll enumerate:

  • Their anti-American agenda.
  • Their communistic sympathies and sympathizers, if not outright communist collusion.
  • Their shameless white-shaming antics.
  • Their anti-white training, tropes, and rhetoric rekindling a hostile racial divide.
  • Their nagging obsession with disarming the deplorable 2nd amendment patriots while defunding those mean, “racist” cops and freeing and or encouraging the “socially disadvantaged” criminals, the homicidal mental cases, the dregs, and assheads doesn’t blend well with my portrait of peace, security, and self-defense.
  • Their narcissistic Woke Sect, the predominantly young, white Marxist punks who intimidate, violently demanding compliance to their fascist doctrine, shouting, “White silence is violence.” Well, turns out they’re right. I’ll suffer silence no longer. And dispense with ingratiation.
  • Their puzzling hypocrisy, e.g., champion abortion; oppose the death penalty; wage war and conflict.
  • Their calamitous open border immigration policy. Welcoming a flood of illegals and during a “pandemic.” Makes one take pause, doesn’t it?
  • Their inimical maligning of the words Patriot, Constitutional, and Liberty.
  • Their combative cancel culture.
  • Their racist critical race theory.
  • Their laughable but politically motivated mislabeling of the January 6 Capitol breach as a coup d’état, an insurrection, an attempt to overthrow the government (unarmed and without an F-15, no less), while offering pass, bail, legitimacy, and encouragement to BLM and Antifa riots, looting, violence, and destruction.
  • Their angry intolerance of and shouting down conservative voices. Or any opposing expression.
  • Their censoring of free speech in connivance with social media autocrats.
  • Their fiscal ineptitude.
  • Their handouts and escalation of government dependency.
  • Their burdening taxes, their stifling restrictions.
  • Their ambush on America’s energy independence.
  • Their persecution of the unholy unvaccinated.
  • Their damnable determination to wreck the economy and emotional wellbeing of the citizenry with endless threats and needless shutdowns, face masks, experimental vaccines, and other Draconian mandates.
  • And for fuck’s sake, let’s not overlook their most excelling agent provocateur, the flip-flopping blabber-gab of all time, little Fauci the Dictator (whom we can’t say enough about), and his self-appointing brigades of fawning fanatical Militant Mask Nazis (whom we can’t say enough about). And by little I mean stature, there’s nothing little about this little man’s power lust. Nor his salary.
Young leftist Marxists
Washington, D.C., August 24, 2020: Forcing compliance, woke threat and intimidation. (Photo by Astrid Riecken For The Washington Post)

While democracy is a listing ship and capitalism suffer the weight of global dominance, the answer isn’t the Left’s socialistic, communistic aspirations that can only drive the country into further instability, despair, crime, unrest, inequality, poverty, and racism. To the inevitable greater tyranny: defamatory branding and detention of dissidents, the promise of a “social credit score,” vaccine passports and the privilege of conformity, the eventual expropriation of private property, the prohibition of free enterprise.

Don’t roll your eyes. These are reoccurring themes throughout history.

“There is no greater danger than underestimating your opponent.” ~Lao Tzu

Like an avalanche, there’s a nefarious momentum motivating the left, threatening to bury liberty; transforming its followers into the image of itself. And while I don’t fancy looking for liberation from the fractured leadership of the Republican Party envenomed with pinko commie RINOs, there’s little choice. Theirs is the last dominant stand against totalitarianism.

“Whenever Governments mean to invade the rights and liberties of the people, they always attempt to destroy the militia.” ~Elbridge Gerry

“A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms shall not be infringed.” ~Second Amendment

With Freedom shackled and chained and the liberals’ dogged determination to disarm the people’s militia and take over the country to impose a flawed system with a historical record of misery and poverty for all but the elite, I’ll register, donate, vote, and without complaint present a photo ID at the poll.

Of course, it’s all for naught if districts continue to count more votes than they have registered voters.

The USA shouldn’t become [any more of] an increasingly poisonous socialist state masquerading as a free democratic republic and I don’t see avoiding that by singing the praise of leftist religion.

“I ask for, not at once no government, but at once a better government.” ~Henry David Thoreau

Trump / Noem 2024!
Save America Trump 2024


Featured image courtesy of ray_shrewsberry via Pixabay.com