We are now in the 86th week (I think?) of “two weeks to slow the spread.” I admit, time starts to blend into an amorphous moment up here on the other side of the COVID Curtain in Trudopia. Recently, my family and I ventured into a small diner in a tiny town that was not enforcing vaccine-segregation measures and actually sat down at a table and ate a meal together—those four-dollar breakfasts tasted a lot like food from that halcyon era “B.C.,” Before Corona.
It was not lost on me that my wife and I drove our children over an hour away from home in order to sit in a booth to eat bacon and eggs; we probably spent more on gas (it is about 6.50/gallon here) than we did on food. But, given the strange times in which we live, it was a worthwhile adventure and taste (pun intended) of the Ol’ Normal.
But much to our surprise, in walked a retirement-aged couple with medical-grade masks firmly pressed against their noses and cheeks in order that no virus spores emanating off the patrons could infect their socially-distanced bubble. They were visibly confused, fumbling around with the idea of presenting their purity-papers, not knowing how many pumps of Purell were sufficient in such an atmosphere. It was clear that they had not read any of the signage declaring this was a segregation-free diner. Perhaps it was difficult to see the signs through the fog on their glasses created by the steamy breath coming out the top of their masks and mingling with the freezing fall Ontario air.
It was an awkward scene, and we watched with the interest of zoo patrons gazing upon a monkey who has discovered a new way to eat ants with a stick. The couple decided to stay and eat, in what was clearly one of the most uncomfortable meals of their lives; bless their vaccinated hearts. Perhaps we shouldn’t joke about that, given the risks of myocarditis.
We all know people like this. Perhaps we have family members or neighbours who fit the description. One way to spot the type of person I described is to keep your eyes peeled for a Trudeau t-shirt or a Biden bumper sticker.
They will accept anything the government tells them and will change their views on basic biology in line with whatever is broadcast from state-sponsored propaganda. They might go 12 months without visiting a grandchild, only to attend a wedding with 150 of their closest friends because the government has said it is “safe.” If there is anyone that confused folks like this trust, it is a public-health official. Top docs and other unelected bureaucrats are sacrosanct in their eyes.
It does not matter how many times Dr. Fauci and other top officials have been caught with their proverbial pants down, or how many viral clips are spread of them flip-flopping on everything from asymptomatic transmission, to masks, to vaccines, to whether the unvaxxed class even deserve basic human rights.
No, in the eyes of many, when Fauci speaks it may as well be the voluntarist diving fiat of a pagan god; Emperor Faucitine could declare the sky green and the sun to rise in the evening, and the gaslit populous would call you crazy for questioning the science. Fauci and his ilk are untouchable—no, not untouchable like the unvaxxed untouchable caste. They are untouchable in the way that no one deign touch the Raja without first doing obeisance and presenting their health-certificate.
At least, Fauci was untouchable and above rational thought or reasoned arguments; that is until it turned out he oversaw the torture of puppies. You see, it turns out that Fauci and his cronies have a taste for canine torture as a way of performing scientific experiments. Not only were beagles brutalized under the Fauci-umbrella, but monkeys were lobotomized with acid for some reason.
If we think back to the confused couple that stumbled into the Segregation-Free Diner, it is fascinating to ponder what folks of that mindset might think. I have tried my best with family members, both young and old, who also worship the public health officials who preach to the faithful in press-conference liturgies every Friday afternoon, but I have had no success.
No matter how much death-rate math I show them, or how many abortions I explain to them would have taken place to get the long lusted-after aborted fetal cell line needed for vaccine research, it doesn’t matter. Eyes glaze over, texts are not responded to, and I am labeled a “conspiracy” theorist for suggesting that perhaps the government doesn’t always have our best interests at heart; apparently the 20th Century never happened.
However, it may just be that my approach was off the whole time! I wasted time trying to explain to family members and neighbours that I would reject an abortion-tainted jab for moral reasons. Silly me for explaining why I wouldn’t subject myself and my children to a poke that might make our hearts explode for a disease that is less dangerous to us than the flu. I should have instead focussed on the dog-hating fetish of Fuhrer Fauci!
I wonder what Covidian cultists will do now that their beloved leader has turned out to be a villain that has harmed the sensibilities of North America’s “dog mamas.”
You see, in our civilized and democratic society, it is acceptable, nay encouraged, that our health gurus lockdown civilization and mandate abortion-tainted experimental jabs in order to keep us safe. No matter how many of our elderly died of dehydration in nursing homes, or how many grandpas breathed their last over a Zoom call on an iPad held by a nurse in a hazmat suit, our society will applaud the demons who made this happen…that is until they harm animals.
Our exalted and progressive human civilization shows more deference toward the plight of puppy-mill residents than it does the slaughtered unborn children who were sacrificed for ineffective medications. Our world is one wherein the enlightened classes meditate on the sacred words of Covidian cultists who muse about reducing population—all while ordering a meatless burger in a drive-thru, idling in their electric cars. Our world is one wherein children are second-class citizens that must be masked against their will—anything less would be selfish!
In a world with widespread Fauci-fetish and pathogen perversions, perhaps it is fitting that it might be the treatment of dogs that will do in the doctor.
It would be a fitting twist of fate, that our child-hating, animal-loving society would lose its faith in the cult leader after it was discovered that he treated puppies with as much contempt as he has for the unborn.
[Photo Credit: Win McNamee/Getty Images]