I find myself, uncharacteristically, wishing for bad things to happen regarding all this world take-over crap.
I don’t wish for people I love to die, but I can’t help but admit when I read about others dying there is a sudden surge within me that says, “Good! Now maybe these morons will wake up!” Then my senses come back to me, and I think about mothers burying their children, or children burying their mothers, and I curse myself for my wicked thoughts.
Anyone else have similar moments?
I am just not convinced this nightmare is going to end without it getting worse, and if it doesn’t get worse, then I don’t think it is going to end.
I think about my friend the boiling frog. One of my first articles I wrote for Off-Guardian was titled “Slow Boil” and was about the ol’ frog in the pot of water. Apocryphally just sitting there as the heat was turned up oh so slowly. His brain being so small he was incapable of realizing that he would soon be on a plate in a fancy French restaurant.
Not surprisingly many people told me that simply doesn’t happen (friends in denial I suspect). Frogs will jump out before meeting their demise. If so, that means the story is a fictional metaphor made from real human experience, rather than the other way around (or so it seems). That, then, makes it even more poignant.
I think I fear being that frog, ignorant to the lethal slow boil rather than being a lobster thrown into a pot of already boiling water—scalding, horrifying, seasoned, and buttered. Well, I should add this: I fear being the frog who actually realizes he is going to die in a pot of slow boiling water—with nothing he can do about it.
THAT is what I fear the most.
Ignorance is bliss, so it seems, and dying slowly with no knowledge of dying seems to be a preference for most. Somehow it appears not to be as bad a fate as knowing death is imminent. But imminent death WITH a fight, with a WILL to fight, with a strong and immutable DESIRE to set things straight, seems to me far better than ignorance. To die in battle is a noble end, to die a peaceful death in bed while the world is ravaged through unseen fires, is the worst.
Or is it?
Sometimes I wish for that ignorance, and who cares if I end up dead after years of knowing nothing about boiling waters. Somehow, though, I don’t think it will be that easy, nor that peaceful.
The events of the last two and a half years are an indication of that. We got hit with a big missile, one that even the most contented frog felt while basking in his or her stovetop pool. Those of us who recognize incoming weaponry got hit the hardest, but even the sheep got a taste with the inconvenience of lockdowns, masking, social distancing, and such.
Although right now we may be at a holding pattern with the water set to medium for a bit, I don’t question for a second there will be more incoming missiles, and once this plan is fully implemented there will be no doubt that we are not in Kansas anymore.
Anyone who has read much of what I have written know me as Dr. Doom, and as such I am not one to celebrate prematurely. Although at times I nod my head and recognize that things are better than I thought, I have not yet fallen into the complacency of victory.
The fight we are in is an ugly one. And it very well may have been going on for thousands of years. If that is a stretch for you then don’t bother yourself with that possibility, we all have enough to worry about. However, many of you reading this I think would agree.
Even if you can only recognize all this as a result of recent political and philosophical maneuverings, take a little time to read a bit more to expand your understanding. At the very least this all has been in motion since the early part of the 19th Century, and as I suggested above, possibly quite a bit of time before that. Start with Patrick Wood’s amazing, and frightening, book The Evil Twins of Technocracy and Transhumanism.
If that doesn’t shake you up, nothing will. There are many other insights out there as well, and now that you are no longer a sheep (were you ever?) you will be open to quite a bit that is considered, by sheep, to be utter paranoid nonsense.
This scourge of technocracy/transhumanism is a disease much like cancer. It has had enough time to grow to immense proportions without being noticed by most, and its malignancy is intertwined in the fabric of everything—everything. At times I imagine the only way to rid the world of it is to kill the host and start over again. Indeed, that horrible thought may prove to be true.
I do think there is still a smidgeon of hope to kill it from the top down. But to do that, more than likely things will have to get worse before they get better. I recently wrote about this in several other essays: Critically Compromised, Hand Picked, and Perpetual Cognitive Dissonance. If any of these are not yet published, be on the lookout for them.
If things don’t get worse, then we become the lazy frog. Well, we probably are not lazy per se, but only lazy regarding a fight we can’t see because the enemy has retreated or appears to have retreated.
I do trust it is the intention of the agenda to do this. They hide behind the hill and wait. They do seem to be rather patient (well, Justin Trudeau has the patience of a petulant 5-year-old, but he is an exception). They can wait. And that they do. They will soon hit us with another missile, and we will all scramble—for a few minutes at least, and then settle down in our pot again.
It sure is tempting, even for me. I want to get back to my old life again, at least I am compelled to. I want to travel, to spend time writing about something other than doom and gloom.
I want to have fun again, to feel good, happy, contented. But my intelligence tells me this is far from over, and I must stay at the ready. I feel like the proverbial guard given night watch, slowly falling asleep when the crickets start to drift into slumber. I know there is a war raging just over the hill. But it isn’t here. I can take a break.
What horror…to fall asleep and then wake up like Rip Van Winkle, with the world entirely changed. One day there is cash, the next day there isn’t, and the next day you can’t go into a movie theater without showing your Vax Pass on your smart phone, or on a chip embedded in your hand. One day you can’t visit a friend who lives across town without paying a huge fine (goodbye friend, I can’t afford you now), another day you can’t buy eggs because you have an unpaid parking ticket, one day you can’t…fill in the blank.
It is coming folks, there is no dispute about that. The question is whether we are going to let it creep into our comfortable pot. And what manages to creep in will be a whole lot uglier than what you thought was ok a month ago.
Todd Hayen is a registered psychotherapist practicing in Toronto, Ontario, Canada. He holds a PhD in depth psychotherapy and an MA in Consciousness Studies. He specializes in Jungian, archetypal, psychology. Todd also writes for his own substack, which you can read here
For direct-transfer bank details click here.