Written by James Goad
Some rather random perspectives of the last two years follow.
The blonde puppet’s announcement of the lifting of the remaining COVID restrictions, and presumably the end of the Coronavirus Act 2020 emergency legislation itself elicited a ‘so what’ from me. The precedent has been set. Government power once acquired is not readily laid down. The state has proven that it can conjure up a national emergency through psychological manipulation via propaganda to radically change our lives. Being at the mercy of a whimsical, authoritarian entity hangs over us like a shadow. Only the naïve would believe the state would not exert itself in this fashion again, or go much further.
However at liberty we presently are, the threat of force exerted by state institutions is now ever present, and it’s much worse than it used to be. The after-effects of the COVID years will be with us for a generation, the remainder of my statistically allotted time on this mortal coil. The last two years have been easier for me than most. I was a ‘key worker’ during the first lockdown and outdoors every day. When restrictions eased, I drove across the continent to a new life in Bulgaria where, out in the country, little attention is paid to government mandates. In a former Warsaw Pact nation, the population does not trust the state, for obvious reasons. Central Europe is increasingly popular as an expatriate destination these days.
Returning to the UK for employment at the end of May last year I have yet to darken the doors of the office in which I am technically based. The company took the opportunity to reduce their office footprint, taking out a whole floor from their city location. The big corporates are huge employers of the professional class to which I belong and now have another excuse to ‘right size overhead’ by downsizing their office rentals. At the same time, small family businesses go to the wall. The corporate cartels benefit from the decimation of small business and that was surely part of the plan. The technocratic public-private partnerships are ramping up to complete the ultimate takeover of sovereign nations. I’d wager they would see the smaller the percentage of family-sized businesses still operational, the better, dependent on function.
Polarisation has been more extreme than the worst aspects of Brexit. Being part of a marginalised, anti-state minority can be fun though. The weight of state propaganda and Big Tech bring brought to bear on you in myriad ways is oppressive, but enlightening. I have just purchased Edward Bernays’ book Propaganda, which will doubtless confirm a number of things witnessed. Whilst resisting the cult means being oppressed, it has the dubious benefit of being able to clearly see the psychological warfare being waged upon us. It also affords us the view of less-aware friends and family falling victim to it. This has taken a toll. There are many who have not been able to survive it. The mental health after-shocks will go on for years, tainting even the next generation. I happen to believe my family dynamic was moulded by the dislocations brought about by World War Two. Similarly, what we have now is a deliberately traumatised, vulnerable populace. I’m waiting for the Big Event where people rush to the paternalistic state to save them from the next outrage. It will happen.
Now living in the Batley and Spen constituency, I get regular email updates about my MP’s efforts in parliament. Whilst continually pursuing government ministers for their approach to and funding of health care and care-in-the-community activity, she often cites the needs of vulnerable people. All well and good to do so if you’re an MP, but when the same official enthusiastically votes for stringent lockdown measures, you have to scratch your head. To my mind, that’s a bit like carving someone up with a machete and then asking someone else for some sticking plasters to curb the blood flow.
One of the few positives I take from the whole episode is that more people have woken up to the true reality of their existence. The fiction within which we have existed all our lives is being exposed as theatre, little by little. The parasite class are dropping the pretence. The adornments are being removed piece by piece, exposing the brick walls of captivity. Those who have broken free from the grip of state propaganda can see it for what it is, and it’s our job to wake up others any way we can.