down-cricket-road
Sylvia Shawcross

Now you’d think that Jacinda Ardern, a WEF star, would have picked a different turn of phrase to explain her exit. Instead of lamenting that she didn’t “have enough in her tank” she could have said she hadn’t charged her solar panels enough or something.

She has now perhaps joined the rest of the world reeling from the price of gas for their tanks? She’s one of us now? Is that the analogy? Why do I doubt this?

Oh I know, we’re all human and equal and all that… or as Orwell put it, we are all equal but some of us are more equal than others, but really? Really! Maybe it was a Freudian slip and she was actually referring to New Zealand not supplying tanks to Ukraine? But I suppose it was ultimately because her numbers were tanking in political polls.

And that’s about all I have to say about Ardern except: you can’t play totalitarianism with a population and then turn around and play victim when you are not liked for your actions.

Meanwhile back in Canada, the latest adventure down Cricket Road is new for us all and it makes about as much sense as anything else does these days. It is obviously a test drive here in Canada—you know how “they” do that with all their grand plotting and shenanigans such as organic fertilizer farming in Sri Lanka and nuclear standoffs in Ukraine.

They do these things to see how we all react and then start fiddlefarting and tinkering before springing it on the entire world. This is what they do with “we the herds” mooing and grazing in the Blackrock fields of what we used to call home.

Now before I tell you about this latest endeavour, please, if so inclined pour yourself a good stiff drink and settle down. You’ll need that drink. Trust me. Here in the vast snowy terrain of Canada, our “protectors of health” have a new decree. Well, not a decree at this point but a recommendation: They no longer are recommending two alcoholic drinks a day, but two drinks a week.

I suggest there is no doubt now. None whatsoever. No more fence-sitting for you sore-bummed middle-of-the-road types—They ARE looking for revolution.

It is one thing to take away meat and replace it with crickets and it is one thing to take away sodas with fizzy little bubbles but it is quite another thing to take away a person’s hot rum toddy on a cold winter’s night or a glass or two of wine in a personal crisis or a case of beer while watching football players keel over on TV.

I mean, that’s what I hear. I’m not much of a drinker really but in this world there are two types of people: those who drink and those who don’t much care to drink. The vast majority are in the first category. The elites trying to run the world know this. This is why they’ve come out with this recommendation—to fuel the revolution. To make us really mad.

Well, I know what you’re thinking, it’s just a recommendation right? Yeah. For now. Until we’re all digitally hooked into the matrix where such things will be decided for us—what we eat, where we go, what we drink and how many licorice all sorts we can have in a week. It’s only a matter of time before they start measuring our toothpaste consumption. But I digress.

The question is why would they be picking on a very very profitable booze business like this? It makes no sense. They love their corporate greed and oh those lovely taxes. I guess we’ll eventually understand. Ours is not to question why, ours is just to do or die.

But you’d think… just out of consideration for the herds, they’d offer to make their own sacrifices. Oh, not the thousands of prostitutes flown in for Davos necessarily because I’m sure that’s just an observational experiment about their human trafficking goals. And not the red meat they serve there or anything. But perhaps the cocaine.

Yes. We the herds have decided, THEY will be limited to two hits of cocaine a month. That’ll fix ‘em… well, quite a few of ‘em I suspect. Maybe they’ll stop waging war then and return to something they used to call diplomacy in the old days.

Here’s my favourite quotation from my last column offered by Niko:

My heart is moved by all I cannot save:
so much has been destroyed
I have to cast my lot with those
who age after age, perversely,
with no extraordinary power,
reconstitute the world.
Adrienne Rich

And here’s an earworm:

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