Patriotism is Irrepressible
Undiluted, unapologetic America First policies are the only way the US survives. That said, it would be short-sighted of us to ignore the nation's place within a global uprising of patriots.
I think every dissident from the mainstream Covid narrative – at least, every dissident living in a virus-crazed corner of America – knows the feeling well. You’re going about your day, just trying to ride the alternating waves of isolation and despair, when, miracle of miracles, you find yourself in conversation with someone who has managed to remain similarly sane.
Perhaps it’s a cheerfully maskless gas station attendant.
Maybe you overhear some waitresses complaining about the hypochondriacs disinfecting the cutlery at table seven.
It might be nothing more than a glance from the occupant of the neighboring barstool but in that glance can be recognized the same indignation, the same sense of disbelief and impotent, all-consuming rage that has clouded every one of your last twenty-something months, and before you know it, the pair of you are laughing away like school buddies, joking about the good old days and discussing the viability of secession.
I recently had one such experience. Following the birth of our daughter, it was decided by my wife, in her infinite and benevolent wisdom, that the only way to properly mark such a occasion was with a commemorative portrait. Admittedly, I can not understand now, any more than I could understand then, why anyone would require a twice-life-sized likeness of a infant whose squalling, balling actuality can be seen right there in front of them but nevertheless, being the indulgent husband I am, I acquiesced on the same condition I acquiesce to all family purchases – that our money stays out of the hands of liberal fuckwits.
And remarkably, in our bluest of blue towns, my wife managed just that. No sooner had I walked into the frame shop to collect the finished product than I was greeted by the opening chords of Ted Nugent’s Cat Scratch Fever and the bold, defiant yellow of the Gadsden Flag. A quick scan of the other banners showed they stocked both TRUMP 2024 as well as the memetic juggernaut that is Let’s go Brandon, while approaching the counter, I was welcomed, far more reservedly than one might imagine, by a man whose T-shirt was emblazoned with the words 1776, bitches.
Needless to say, Ted and I hit it off immediately. There are days, I think most of us can acknowledge, when merely attending to the tasks of life, burdened by the weight of what we know, can seem unendurable. Hell, Sunday with the in-laws is fraught at the best of times, let alone when they refuse to drop their vaccine sales pitch, and I could tell, for all his image of rugged individualism, that Ted was as grateful for an ally as I was.
“Whole goddamned country’s been pussified,” he said, apparently unconcerned with the second party of window shoppers his commentary had driven away. “That’s the goddamned problem. Parents ship ‘em off to college, bankrupt themselves to keep ‘em there, and when they come out, half the little assholes are castrated and the other half’s dumber than hell!” He rocked back on his heels as though the truth remained too much to comprehend. “I hate to say it,” he sighed upon a moment’s reflection, “but you might’ve arrived in The States just in time to see the light’s go out. All’s I hope is that things ain’t so messed up back in—” he twiddled a forgetful finger “—back wherever you said you were from.”
I didn’t much respond. Whatever accord Ted and I found on our hang-the-government-and-divvy-up-the-proceeds domestic policy, I couldn’t help but think that, in regard to geopolitical strategy, he might be missing a trick.
Over the last few years, bound by little more than an internet connection and a sense that something was wrong, a group of people from every country on earth have achieved something quite remarkable – they have, for the first time, pieced together an image of the kind of individuals who rule us. Indeed, such corruption and depravity did they uncover that the resultant outcry was enough to provide the initial thrust behind movements as disparate as Trump and The Yellow Vests, Brexit and Bolsonaro, but now, with the rise of Covid tyranny, these ostensibly separate groups are beginning to recognize that they are united not solely by a yearning for freedom, but also by a common and nebulous enemy.
The primary advantage to Americans seeing themselves within the context of this global groundswell is that only by coordinating with others who think like us can we expect to compile a fuller picture of the coming New World Order. The blueprints are already chilling enough. Since the outbreak of Covid psychosis, countries that once sought to brand themselves as open, liberal democracies have unambiguously abandoned the façade. A playbook of fear, intimidation, and outright brutality is already well established throughout much of Europe, yet nowhere has this descent into authoritarianism been more comprehensive and more whiplash than in the formerly free nation of Australia.
Concealed by nothing more than the fig leaf of “public health policy”, Dan Andrews and other such China-owned assets have imposed, in complete complicity with their lapdog media, a regime nakedly reminiscent of the country’s prison colony beginnings. Needless to say, patriots of all stripes should be doing whatever they can to lend our support. We can help by sharing posts from folks like Avi Yemini or Craig Kelly. If we are in a position to do so, we could always throw a few dollars behind their cause. For those of us living in major metropolises, we might even consider taking the fight to the consulates and embassies, but surely, at the very least, it is our duty to ensure friends and family, our neighbors and every online contact, cannot remain unaware that this kind of nightmarish, Kafkaesque bullshit is happening in a country that considers itself a democracy.
This is not solely altruistic. By drawing attention to the plight of Australia, we can both reassure her people that the world has not abandoned them and also force the issue onto the attentions of the average American.
Now, I acknowledge that many readers will have long ago lost faith in this particular demographic. Over the last couple years, it has been almost as baffling as it has been dispiriting to watch our most compliant citizens march relentlessly, at times even eagerly, toward their own enslavement (regurgitating as they go, the now meaningless charge of “conspiracy theorist”).
Stupidity is, of course, a sizeable part to this behavior.
Cowardice is a far greater one.
Ultimately, when a person finally accepts the reality of the NWO and all its attendant horrors, so too are they confronted with the responsibility of resisting it – a responsibility all too easy to shirk in the face of the future’s the inherent unknowability.
But Australia is not the future.
Neither is France, Austria, Canada, or The Netherlands.
They are here-and-now inevitabilities of an unaccountable power structure and unless we wish America to succumb to a similar fate, a very great part of our focus must be on searing these images into the public consciousness. Force Biden to comment on them. Force his handlers to write another substanceless speech. Make that doddering, dementia-addled old pervert stand before the American people in his Ritalin daze and incontinence diapers, squinting at the teleprompter that will instruct him to deny, dismiss, or downplay this kind of state-sponsored savagery.
The other reason why we must start identifying ourselves as part of this global nationalist awakening is simply that The Establishment don’t want us to. So much must now be self-evident. If, after all, you are part of the diminishing and presumably braindead portion of America who still gets their news from the likes of CNN, MSNBC, or the New York Times, then you probably have very little conception of the anti-lockdown/anti-mandate demonstrations currently sweeping the globe. If some mention of them has managed to penetrate your echo chamber, you might imagine them as scattered gatherings of malcontents and undesirables, and most certainly not representative of any reasonable segment of society.
Only if you’re one of those weirdos who hang out on Gab, Gettr, Minds, or MeWe, are you likely to know, in fact, they look a lot more like this:
Toward the end of that video, you will see a brief clip of the protests in Belfast. While I acknowledge that the crowds assembled back in my old hometown were not nearly as impressive as some of the other rallies, I contend that they constitute something every bit as significant.
Coming from a society in which protests are seen less an outgrowing of political frustrations and more the precursor to the national pastime of mindless rioting, I can tell you that there is wholesale disinterest, much less appetite for boots-on-the-ground activism. The divisions which define Northern Ireland are simply too deep to be impacted by such gestures but even amid this malaise, thousands of people from both communities descended on City Hall in order to demand the immediate and unreserved return of their rights.
Under normal circumstances, this would have been heralded as historic. After decades of power-sharing government and millions of pounds squandered on egotism, politicians have never even come close to the authentic, grassroots cohesion achieved by these anti-lockdown protests but of course, considering the cause these folk were representing, the media ran with a far less charitable interpretation.
It is an approach employed by almost all western news organizations. Outcompeted on almost every metric by their independent counterparts, corporate journos have resorted to reflecting back at their largely middle class readership, every negative stereotype the rich have about the poor (all while shoehorning in whatever political movement their boss wants discredited).
In Northern Ireland, the thuggish specter of terrorism is the most frequently invoked.
In the USA, we are derided as “anti-vaxxxers”.
The same protesters who are labelled blue collar ‘tradies’ in Australia are lamented as soccer hooligans in England, while in Europe, a continent so ill at ease with itself, accusations of Holocaust Denial are rarely more than a spellcheck away.
In a sense, we have allowed them to do this. By failing to properly align ourselves with other branches of the international freedom movement we have made it too easy for our adversaries to keep us fragmented, ignored, and slandered; demoralized, shell-shocked, and isolated. It’s the only hope the bastards have. What we have lived through, after all, has been the most sophisticated psychological operation of all time – one that will come to be recognized among history’s greatest crimes – and the fact we are still here at all, still free-minded, still pure-blooded, is a victory of unimaginable proportions. Those psychopaths threw everything they had us and yet here we are, not just standing but standing alongside fellow patriots in such colossal numbers that we could have these tyrants in shackles tomorrow if only we stuck our head above the parapet and realized how many of us there truly are.
Of course, I didn’t say this to Ted.
I mean, really, this was a guy who didn’t need a second invitation.
He said as much with his parting handshake, once more congratulating me on the baby who – surrounded by a sleek black frame and finished with a three-inch matte – appeared several shades more cherubic than the one I was on my way home to.
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