No rest for the wicked

And I must have been very, very wicked. I’m going to be working on books all through November. In addition to the Christmas anthology I have at least four other books in the line (my own will have to wait for December) plus an update to one of Mark Ellott’s – although he has taken care of the new cover which does take a lot of work out of my hands. His neice has been making his covers and she’s really very good at it.

Even so, it’s impossible to avoid the madness in the world today. The Covid game is crumbling, people who have accepted three jabs and still caught it anyway are now being told they need a fourth. I have received an invite, well, more of a summons, to go for a booster shot. I don’t know what it’s supposed to boost since I haven’t had the first one yet.

If they knew me at all, which they don’t since they don’t see me unless I’m at Death’s door, they’d know that sending me an ‘appointment’ with time and date, an option to phone up and change it but no option to say ‘no thanks’, will only end one way. I’ve ignored it. I will not be phoning in and I will not be summoned by some medical despot who thinks they can just boss me around. If they turn up here to stick things in me, I have a collection of things to stick in them in return. Some of which can be applied from quite a distance away.

I really can’t fathom how they have persuaded people to take three shots of some experimental potion within a year, and then, when they still catch the thing it’s meant to protect them against, the answer is to squirt more of it in. How many times will it take before people start to wonder if this stuff is doing anything useful at all?

Side effects are becoming clearer by the day. Oh they deny them, Dr. ‘Haw Haw’ Hillary on TV pretends everything is fine and rosy while young people drop with heart problems and blood clots. Well, it was a blood clot that killed my father. Long before vaccines, nothing to do with that – but if I’ve inherited a genetic predisposition to blood clots I am not taking anything that could increase that risk.

That’s just my opinion, of course. Anyone who wants the stuff can get it. I’m not taking it.

Well, but doesn’t that mean I’m going to be excluded from society? No nightclubs or football grounds for me – and soon no public transport of any kind either?

Pah. The smoking ban excluded me from society over a decade ago. I haven’t been in a night club in 40 years, have no interest in football, and really don’t like to be in crowded places. Public transport? Out here there isn’t any. I’ve been eligible for a free bus pass for over a year and haven’t bothered applying. Because there are two buses a day here, one at about 6 am and one coming back about 6 pm. Not, you might say, particularly convenient. So I can have a free bus pass, but can I have a bus? Ah… no.

Australia, especially Victoria under the iron fist of Kim Jong Dan, is now refusing to allow the unvaccinated to even claim unemployment benefits. Rather like the UK’s NHS – you pay in or they arrest you, but try to claim the service you’ve paid for and you won’t get it. Government policy based on the business model of the Kray twins there.

It gets worse. The UK government are setting up to criminalise the words I have written above. Any deviation from their narrative and you’ll go to jail for two years. For disagreeing.

All the restrictions on the unvaxxed are irrelevant. You might think, with your perforated arm, that you can be smug and look down on those of us who refuse to play this silly game. There are more shots coming – miss one and you’re back to the ranks of the unvaxxed. You might be twenty shots in but the moment you say ‘no more’ you’re one of us again. You get on this train, there’s no getting off. It doesn’t stop anywhere. The only way out is to get thrown onto the tracks at full speed.

Let’s say that, as unvaxxed, I have to walk everywhere and forage for berries and insects to survive. You think it’s going to be better if you take the shots? Then you haven’t been paying attention to the progression from Covid to the Church of the Green God.

‘You will own nothing and be happy’. They really mean it, you know. It’s not just words.

You will not be driving an electric car. Nobody will. You might get the first one but when the battery dies, it has a trade in value of zero. You have nothing to use as a trade in and will likely be charged for disposal of the highly toxic and potentially explosive battery. Or you can buy a new battery for much more than the car will be worth by then.

You will not have public transport because you will have no business going anywhere. You walk to work or work from home.

You will eat synthetic meat and mashed insects. Hunting your own food will be illegal, even picking a blackberry will be seen as stealing because you don’t own any land. The billionaires own it all.

You have no money. It’s just numbers on a screen and you will buy what your masters approve of, no more. Step out of line and your numbers are deleted. Eventually, your food will be delivered based on what your masters deem are your requirements.

There is a hope that this will fail, of course. The house of cards around Covid is trembling and I think it will fall. So it’s time to ramp up the climate fear. Again.

This time, there is a problem. It has become clear to many, many people that the government and media are lying to us and have been for some time. Trust in government, media, medics, police, even science, is collapsing. People are getting very, very angry.

So these people who are villified for driving a Nissan Micra and buying an occasional burger while mumbling through a mask are now treated to the sight of COP26. Hundreds of private jets, the posh gits all feasting on fancy food and patting each other on the backs, unmasked, 85-car motorcades, cars lining the streets of Glasgow with their engines running so those ‘important people’ can be ferried around in comfort and safety… and none of them need worry about the vaccine passport rules imposed on the rest of Scotland.

Well sure, a lot of people have nothing now. Do you really think they are happy?

Are they happy to hear Jeff Bezos declare that his little jolly into space made him realise how fragile the planet is? This wasn’t a mission to discover anything. It didn’t advance scientific knowledge one iota. It was a dick in a dick-shaped rocket pumping out CO2 so he could literally look down on us all. It acheived nothing more. It demonstrated that the rich can go into space for a look around, while the rest of us won’t be allowed to go into the local pub unless we obey their commands.

Boris told us that the world is going to fry if we don’t give up everything and live as 13rth century peasants. Well, ‘we’ doesn’t include him and his ilk, naturally. He’s getting a priivate jet from Glasgow to London rather than mix with the hoi polloi.

And of course let’s not pass over Jug-ears himself, the Prince who has people to dress him in the morning. He’ll be Charles III before too long and he is quite clearly determined to end the monarchy just like Charles I, and for the same reasons. The mood in the country – in the world – suggests he’s going to meet the same ending as his predecessor. This time there is unlikely to be a Restoration. This time is the proverbial ‘it’.

These people have really misjudged the mood of the people. We are mightily pissed off. For reasons too numerous to list – but the sight of the rich twats at COP26 telling us how we little people must suffer so they can continue living the high life might be the lit match in the boiling fat that’s been coming for some time.

‘You will have nothing and you will be happy’ they say. They are missing the point. They have failed, in their caviar-driven limousines, to see what they are really imposing on us all.

‘You will have nothing left to lose’.

This is always where times get interesting.