Category Archives: Other Columns

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COLUMN: A Statement And Another Book

16 Wednesday Feb 2022

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A Statement And Another Book

 

Right now, at write(ing) time, it’s late afternoon on Wednesday, February 16th. I too eagerly await this imminent Russian invasion of Ukraine. Grim business, friends, grim. Oh, that was another hoax?! Well, fooooool me.

Hola, amigos! This one will be a little short because I am more than a little tired. In fact, as the title might suggest, I’ll leave most of the work to you – reading work.

Read this JOINT STATEMENT first. Russia and China have formed the backbone of the anti-Globalist Alliance and they are actively moving ahead with this century. This partly explains the panic, lies, and … more panic and lies about the seeming nothing that is the Ukrainian situation. It is a laughing, righteous response to decades of hatred and provocation from the globo-Zionist elites who have captured and practically destroyed the USSA and much of the West. In short, the same party did the same thing to Russia and they attempted another round with China. The Russians caught and expelled them; the Chinese adamantly rejected their advances from the start. All that gibbering and wailing from the fake administration, Langley, the talking screen on the wall, and the wicked masters behind it all reflect a deep, dark antipathy mixed with impotent desperation and quite a bit of the devil’s standby emotion, fear.

The good news – heck, the great news – is that other nations are also waking up and preparing to join the winning side. Make no mistake, the good guys are winning. Mainly because they’re fighting. That’s really all it takes after one or one’s nation wakes up. India, Iran, Argentina, and probably Brazil and Turkey are boarding the high-speed train of the prosperous, free, normal future. More will follow – to include, eventually, names like Japan, Korea(s), Iraq, Afghanistan, Mongolia, Ukraine (yes), Poland (yes), Hungary (yes), France (yes), Mexico (yes), and many more. One day, perhaps places called “New England,” “[Old] England,” the “CSA,” “California,” and “New Africa” may sign up. The coup d’état will be when or if they land a country called Israel (yes).

And, all that shit in Ukraine? It’s old. Very, very, very old. Same story, different century. What’s literally happening, which is most different from the pitiful, idiotic lies the TeeVee has told you, is the latest iteration of a sequence of events in progress since about the Eighth Century. To get a more accurate picture of what’s been going on, and what will likely continue for maybe a little while longer, please read “200 Years Together” by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn. 

The book, a longer but powerful read, briefly covers an additional 1,000 years of history which is mostly and conveniently set in and between … Russia and Ukraine. Oddly enough, that history also involves the same two ultimate parties. Then as now, it was a struggle between Christians (the Russians) and satanists. (And no, Cleetus, the Ukrainian people are not the satanists. Read the book). Which side would you like to see prevail? The one, former side’s victory is assured, so choose wisely.

This is not a full review. But it is a shorter column. So, get to reading. Here, a final parting thought: why I had to link to the unofficial samizdat edition of such a fine and thorough work. Solzhenitsyn wrote it in modern Russia and published it in 2001. Still, as of now, we have no English translation to purchase that I am aware of. (Russian edition HERE). That’s because of the massive censorship of ideas, from the outside, allowed into places like dead Amerika. Let that sink in. A man famous in the Western world because he wrote a banned book now has another book banned by the Western world. So, as you read this illicit version in your own personal ‘Murican Gulag, kindly note all of the similarities between what Russia experienced from roughly 1800 until 2000 with what the US has experienced since around 1900. Chapters one, seven, and twenty-five are genuine eye-openers. 

Open your eyes. And read. And think. 

More, next time; carry on.

COLUMN: The Beast is Cornered

09 Wednesday Feb 2022

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The Beast is Cornered

 

What passes for news in the West is now so fake that it begins to surpass hilarity. What comes after that? Sympathy? Maybe of the end-of-Old-Yeller kind? Maybe.

Michael Bloomberg’s blog jumped the missiles and alerted the world that Russia had invaded Ukraine. This came as (fake) news to Moscow and Kyiv. Embarrassment aside, it must have been reassuring to Langley to see some of the old black budget money had properly if prematurely made its way into digital print. Next time, boys. 

Of their own accord, I think the Russians have no need to attack Ukraine. If they’re forced to act, say by utter stupidity out of DC, then I assume their response will be both proportional and overwhelming. And blindingly fast. I’m tempted to write that the fight, even against the whole machinery of the Pentagram, wouldn’t even be close – because it probably wouldn’t be. Cleetus, let me address your ultimate bluster: I don’t think the mutual destruction thing is mutually assured anymore; I can’t yet calculate odds, but I’d give the all-out nuclear win to Russia. The thing is, I think they’ve already won without having to fire the first shot. 

Right now, they’ve effectively halted NATO’s slow eastward advance. They have Washington’s puppet in Kyiv talking back to Washington. The Germans are even talking back. The rest of the world slowly notices that nothing horrible has, despite all the fake news, transpired. The DC Dark Swamp Cabal begins to look foolish. And stupid. And evil. Sometimes looks are not deceiving. 

Russia has managed, these past two decades, to remove itself from any position that can be manipulated by outsiders. Manipulation, or rather, the threat thereof, is about all that DC has anymore. It may be that the day of the SWIFT-proof Sino-Russian alliance has dawned. One-third of the world, the more cohesive, nationalistic third, would jump at the chance to do business with a financial system not run by satanists. More nations would soon follow.

The fake administration is in a terrible position as are their masters. They all know it – Nuland, Blinken, Garfinkle, Yellen, maybe even Brandon. Heck, the man they would rely on to fight their unwinnable war, Austin, just told the fools to cool the impotent bully act before someone gets killed. In one dull, demented mind after another, it occurs that the dead, rotting empire that could do nothing against the might of the Taliban has not even the proverbial snowball’s odds against a modern power. Let alone two.

Part of the wicked hatred in the hearts of too many foreign elite rulers of the USSA, for Russia, comes from the fact that too many of them are the direct ideological and/or co-ethnic descendants of Leon Trotsky. They bitterly recall their fathers’ just expulsion and may forever hold the grudge. The same scum now hates China with almost the same heat over that sane nation’s rejection of their offer to move in and “help.” Kicked out of the one and banned from the other. 

And, there’s just not much they can do about it. The late, already forgotten failure in Kazakhstan was supposed to be Ukraine 2014, 2.0. It was caught and killed in real-time. The color revolution just took up residence in Trotsky’s discarded basement in the house of history. Kapo Soros’s very recent comments about deposing Xi, via a similar coup, borders on the … hell, it crosses way over the border into the insane. It’s completely impossible. And trying it would be beyond dangerous. Like Russia, China has evidently won the latest, greatest battle against the forces of globalist iniquity without really having to do more than stand fast.

If there’s a third current party to the Alliance of the Nationalists, then it’s Iran. I’d estimate the odds of success against Tehran somewhere between those against the Taliban and China – in other words, doomed. The Iranians know it. Thus, like China and Russia, they’re just moving on while the globos sulk and stew. I wonder if they enjoy their bits of the fabricated press. That Times piece this week about the “new” missiles is years out of date and horrendously underestimating. I enjoyed it, for what that’s worth.

As an aside, the Prometheans are trapped where they are in the collapsing USSA. The other semi-plausible outlets for their escape would be Brazil and India, both of which are about to ally with the Nationalist Alliance. They’re stuck where they are and you, Americans, are stuck with them.

Know that as much as they hate Russia, China, the Islamic world, and most other places and peoples, they hate America and Americans just a little more. Not as much as they hate Jesus Christ and His Father, but it’s still a white-hot and atavistic abhorrence. Therein lies your, our danger.

This sad, tired, wounded thing in the corner is still a menace. Many teeth are broken, but the jaws are still strong. Many are missing, but the claws still attached are sharp. Shut down, shut out, and shut off from global terror and victory, they reason they can still wage hell on the American People. If you’ve been half-awake these past two years, then you know that’s a hard, horrible practice and not a theory. 

If we can stand fast, leave fear to the fearful, and resist the prevailing evil, then perhaps someday our children or their children can join the ranks of the free, reborn, civilized nations. Old Yeller’s in the barn. In the corner. Snapping and foaming. Should we consider paying him a final visit? 

UPDATE (2/11/22): If THIS alarmism is to be believed, then we may be about to see what true 21st-century warfare looks like when done right. Russia has (or would have) three probable objectives: 1) push NATO back a safe distance; 2) secure Russian demographic interests in Ukraine, and 3) get rid of Ukraine’s Brandon/Jerry Seinfeld character and fake government. A fourth honorable mention is/would be forcibly driving home to the globos that their day is well and truly over. Time will tell. Do keep in mind that these are the same alarmists who preached about an honest election in 2020, a bat-based pandemic, and 10,000 other hoaxes and lies.

COLUMN: Whatcha Reading?

02 Wednesday Feb 2022

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Other than this shortest of “columns” I mean. Me? I’m halfway through, and losing interest in, the very interesting WHO RULES AMERICA by John McConaughy (1934). If you’re the average Amerikan idiot, then I hazard a guess your answer is … “uhhhhhh?” Whatever.

I’m throwing a lot of effort into the fiction, even as I keep meeting with one sign after another that the book writing, publishing, and reading world has gone the way of the dinosaur. I’m also throwing much effort into the PPN, which takes a lot of time and provides, as of yet, not a lot of return. All things in due time, right? All of this and more leaves me… Hell with it.

Tune in Saturday to the PPN for an update on who rules your dead country. What would you think of a religion that mandates murdering a three-year-old girl after her rape so that her rapist doesn’t look bad? (If you’re thinking anything other than that’s satanic and should be destroyed, then fuck off and never come back here again). Now, what would you think if this religion ran your government? Crazy, right?

That’s all I have the energy for now. Maybe more later or next week or whenever. Go read something for God’s sake!

COLUMN: Quick Questions and a Break

26 Wednesday Jan 2022

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Quick Questions and a Break

 

Greetings, baby birds! How’s the sidewalk?

I am not deep-sixing these columns yet, though, you know… The old blog is approaching ten years and 5,000 posts. I’m determined to get it there on both counts; what lies beyond is murky.

There’s more to write about than ever. And, in fact, I have been lately writing about as much as I ever have. Much of it, the best of it, is in the form of a new novel! I cannot discuss the details yet beyond the fact that it is not set in the Ironsides universe. There’s much more. In the end, I’d just like to write fiction. Getting there, I’d like to be a novelist who sometimes contributes columns or essays and/or hosts a prepper news podcast.

Anyway, to keep beating the geopolitical horse to absolute death, while simultaneously taking a little needed mental vacation, here are some questions for you, my American readers, to consider.

Can you define “American?”

Do you know your country is absolutely ruled by a small foreign elite?

Do you know who they are?

Know who helped them attain such power? (Hint: It was you).

Do you realize that their enemies are not your enemies? (Hint: one of their main enemies is you).

Do you or can you understand that they are your enemy?

Can you find Ukraine on a map?

Do you have any idea where Taiwan is located?

How has Vladimir Putin or any other modern Russia ever harmed you?

How has Xi Jinping or any other modern Chinese ever harmed you?

How has Ebrahim Raisi or any other modern Iranian ever harmed you?

How have any of the fictitious enemies your real enemies ever alarmedly pointed out harmed you?

Do you think Joe Biden is in charge of anything?

Have you read RFK Jr’s book on Fauci?

Have you read a book in the past year? Month?

Do you understand that the Qeshm Fars transport company now makes money by doing what they’re allegedly forbidden to do? Understand why?

Have a favorite Vaxx Trax tune?

Have you ever read anything written by Maimonides?

What’s your estimate of the sum(s) passed to US commercial banks via the “Repo” system since late summer 2019?

Does ten cents per page for a trade paperback sound about right?

And, that is more than enough for now. Short, easy column today. Onwards.

COLUMN: The Fable Of The Baby Bird

19 Wednesday Jan 2022

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The Fable Of The Baby Bird

 

On the Monday and Tuesday editions of the Prepper Post News this week, I reported on and positively reviewed Robert F. Kennedy, Jr.’s book “The Real Anthony Fauci.” Buy it and read it. I’ve already said much concerning the matter. 

The book is superbly written and organized by a passionate and informed author. It confirms everything we, the intelligent and faithful, knew. It teaches us new things, some of which are almost unimaginable. It is a damning indictment of the title subject – literally like a charging document under the Nuremberg Code. It is also as good a bill of wrongs against the entirety of the US imperial government – for satanic crimes of all kinds dating back a century – as I have just about ever seen. If temporal justice escapes the evil-doers, know that Saint Michael sharpens his sword. Buy it and read it!

Most people will not or cannot do that. In fact, most don’t care. About much of anything. They do not think. They feel. Fear is their primary emotion.

So much is happening.

The American People are being systematically eliminated.

We are replaced with dull, violent primitives and literal cannibals.

We are in year three (or ten) of a giant idiotic hoax, war, and war crime.

The foreign satanists who run the US are forcing the world to the brink of a massive multi-front war.

Those elites murdered JFK, pulled 9/11, and created and unleashed the CoronaHoax. These things – read the damned book! – are all related. 

The world economy, at least the part in the ailing West, is dead.

So much more.

But evil and stupidity have rendered the Amerikan Sheeple immune to rationality and reality. They have reminded me of another Boring Old Perrin Story.™ 

Many, many years ago… How many? I can’t remember. Let’s say it was back in 1979. As good a year as any. We’ll also say it was in Mississippi. It was a long time ago in a world that no longer exists.

My parents, perhaps wanting to be more like my maternal grandparents, were looking for some kind of RV. A few years later, they bought a pop-up camper. I think we used it twice and then were ever so happy to get rid of the thing,

Anyway, on what I think was a summer day, we ventured far out into the countryside. This is relatively easy to do in Mississippi. Where, exactly, I cannot recall. But it seems to my poor memory that there was a sizable RV dealership way out somewhere. It was on the outskirts of a larger town. Tupelo? Meridian? Somewhere. We went, and looked, and left with nothing – except this story.

It could have been me being a small boy at the time, but the place was or appeared rather large. It was loaded with campers, class C models, vans, etc. This being back in the sane, normal, old, and gone America, the small boy was given free rein to run around at will. I did. 

While running wild, I discovered that this place, like any decent RV dealer, kept a family of goats in the backlot. I interacted with the group, which was just as fun as it sounds. Some were friendly and liked me petting them. Others were angry and it was all I could do to hold them at bay. My petting and fighting were interrupted for the occasional camper consultation. I can only remember one. I was yellow and smelled bad.

The key part of this tale either happened during our initial entry or upon a quick jaunt to and from the car. Between the parking lot and the sales office, there was a concrete sidewalk. I was following a few steps down it behind my old man. There, I heard a sad, lonely, and faint wailing cry. I looked down at my feet.

Pathetically alone and doomed to die, a tiny, half-finger-sized baby bird lay screaming. It was naked, featherless, and pink. It being both helpless and hopeless, I was instantly moved to pity it. And, at the time, I didn’t even know what it was.

“What’s this?” I called my dad.

“A baby bird that fell out of the nest,” he explained.

I looked around and didn’t see a nest. The matter was inexplicable though it was very real. There was nowhere to return this little victim, who was likely beyond survival anyway.

The old man did the right and decent thing. He bent down and rolled the urchin up in his handkerchief. I didn’t see it, but I assume he used the dove field trick, probably with a press of his thumb, to hasten the poor little bird’s passing. His next move, understandable now, perplexed me then. He simply deposited the rolled body into a nearby trashcan and moved on.

“Why did you throw away the baby bird?” I asked. He didn’t explain, knowing I would eventually figure it all out. I did, in time. In fact, I’ve done similar good deeds myself in the ensuing decades. The day went on. Time followed it.

These days, here in post-modernity, I now recall the doomed baby bird. I see him frequently. All around me, in the faces of my fellow citizens, my neighbors, even a few friends, in their faces I see the baby bird with his eyes closed tight and mouth opened wide and loud. Confronted with a thousand evils, they lie helpless and hopeless, naked and screaming. Again, I am moved to pity. And I cautiously wonder if some kindly giant might happen along with a handy pocket square. He has, one might imagine, yet to appear.

Do not be the baby bird. Stand up. Fly. Fight. Whatever. Nobody is going to gently deposit you anywhere. Survival is up to you. It’s not 1979. This is sometimes inexplicable, but at all times real. Tell me I’m wrong.

COLUMN: Prepare to be Stunned, Amazed, and Dismayed!

12 Wednesday Jan 2022

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Prepare to be Stunned, Amazed, and Dismayed!

 

This column should be suitable for everyone although it is aimed at the wicked, retarded Amerikan majority.

Howdy, folks! Kindly adjust that second face mask, yank that magnetized spoon off your flabby arm, and pull up your pants. It’s time to talk about a good, old-fashioned ass-kicking!

I’ll get the funny part out of the way first. Many – and more than I’d thought possible – of you are slowly coming around to the stark reality that you have been lied to and victimized regarding the fake pandemic that never was. That’s really great and I am very proud of you. Even better, some few of you have begun to suspect that the “conspiracy theorists” have been right all along about a great number of things. They were and are right. You were too dumb to see the truth before. However, it is nice for some of you to finally wake up to the fact that your nation has been stolen by a satanic elite who hate you and who only lie to you. 

As nice as it is, it will be short-lived. I predict you are about to fall for another great hoax. In fact, I imagine most of you will go all-in for this one. “TV say bad people bad! USA! USA!”

Your belligerent stupidity will very quickly turn into bitter disappointment – assuming you aren’t all blasted into irradiated dust first. Here’s hoping for the best! That what should be shall be.

What am I writing about, you ask? Reality, the bitch. 

There is a distinct and growing change that she is about to step right up and kick your teeth out. Get ready!

First, if you’ve stopped smoking weed or shooting fireworks or whatever long enough to watch the CIA shows on the telly, then know that – AGAIN! – they’re lying. Nothing of much importance is happening in Kazakhstan. Forget about it. In fact, that’s not really a real place. It’s kind of like Tunisia. It doesn’t exist.

As such, the “riots” and other hoopla are merely the fallout of another color revolution, the attempted erection of a second front against Russia by and for the evil foreign elites you have so foolishly turned your country over to. Putin is neither stupid nor timid. He instantly figured this one out and acted accordingly. It’s already over.

The more important action concerns Ukraine – which I am informed lies somewhere between Narnia and Oz. CNN and FAUX may not have told you, but all week in Switzerland, emergency talks have been underway been the Satanic States and the Russian Federation about whether Washington is stupid and evil enough to risk World War III over essentially nothing. Based on the reports I’m getting at press time, they are indeed so stupid and evil.

What you have heard is – surprise! – all more lies and projection. It is Washington and its Zionist masters who are the aggressors in Ukraine and against Russia. These are the same people who Stalin kicked out for being too wicked and extreme. They’re the same people who murdered millions of Ukrainians in the Holodomor. They’re the same people who have seized your government and culture and eviscerated your nation. They’re the same people who did the same thing to Ukraine a few years ago. This is an ancient cycle of craziness and not likely to end anytime soon. However, it is about to face a little overdue backlash.

The Russians are up against a wall with no place left to retreat. They are much more heavily armed and militarily savvy than you might believe. They are serious, righteous, and possessed of the moral high ground. Knowing that Washington’s words and those of the puppets in Kyiv are worthless, they may be preparing a powerful military offensive. 

Don’t quote me on that and I hope none of it … ah, hell. That what should be shall be.

If or when it comes, the speed and effectiveness of this martial action will stun and amaze. Russia could easily subdue and occupy Ukraine in a week. There is a very real possibility that the Ukrainian people and military, who both still remember the horrors of 1932, may side with the Russians. President Seinfeld and his fake government could quickly meet rope. Look for any foreign interlopers, Amerikans included, to be soundly smashed, destroyed, or ejected. The Russians may keep marching, mostly unopposed, until they render the idiotic threats of NATO mute.

Be all that as it might, there is nothing NATO, Ukraine, the EU, or the dead Empire can do to stop it. And, just about the time you’re tempted to dust off the old Toby Keith CDs and redneck strut around like a drunken rooster, there will probably be more!

Look for synchrony of action! The evil degenerates who rule you, who hate God, and who want to dominate or destroy the world, have made enemies of most proud, sane peoples. About the time the Russians act, look for the Chinese to do the same. Imagine Taiwan being pulled back in the Sino-fold in a hot afternoon. There probably won’t be much violence either unless Beijing decides to force US assets to a safer distance.

Again, there will be little in the way of stopping this. And, about the time you first curse the “Chi-Coms” and demand some ‘Murican revenge, the liars on the moving screen may tell you that the Reagan can’t deploy to the Med to fight them thar Red Russians (and be sunk) because it’s picking up Taiwanese “helpers” and other trash to be immediately imported to a town near you. And then …

Iran hits Israel. Or imperial assets in the Gulf region. Or the Saudis. Or all three at once. As with Russia and China, nearly everything you’ve ever been told about Iran is a lie. The truth is that the afore-mentioned satanists have been beating the otherwise peaceful Muslim country up for about seventy years, going hard and heavy for most of the past fifty. Like the Russians, the Iranians are damned tired of this treatment. And like the Russians, they are probably equipped to deal with it. Proportionally and smartly, but as harshly as required.

You ignored me when I pointed out, two years ago, what Iranian missiles did to the Empire in Iraq. You ignored me when I pointed out, last year, what Hamas missiles did to Israel. I know you’re a bit slow, but the next natural pointing-to involves seeing what Iranian missiles can do to the IDF-ASA and Mossad.

At this point, you’ll get whipped into an apoplectic rage. However, short of dropping John Hagee, aka “Fat Boy,” on Tehran, there is not much to do about it at all. Yes, if this happens, or just parts of it, some of you will start screaming about “nuke they azz!’ Thankfully, that’s probably not even a possibility anymore. And, if it is, then here’s hoping you enjoy irradiated dust. Go ahead and start yelling when you’re ready.

In the end, if you survive, you may come to learn you’ve been duped yet again. The people you’re likely to trust and believe are evil. The people they lie to you about are essentially the Anti-Globalist Alliance or the “good guys.” Stop siding with people who hate you and who hate God. They will, as always, ask or demand you go fight their war(s) for them. Perhaps you’ll want to. But this time, things will be different. They may not even tell you about the defeat(s). Even you should be able to eventually figure those out. It will be like the death of an old friend. Or, like the death of an old abusive friend you’ve been enabling. It’ll hurt a little either way. 

Also, all of the above does not include the very real chance of a French civil war, which would siphon off a good part of NATO’s power. It also overlooks another possible front a little closer to you. Once dominos start falling and all.

You have few ideas. You have no idea, specifically, about what’s coming. Neither do I, exactly. I just don’t want you taken by surprise. Which you will be regardless. 

Oh, well. Go Dawgs!

COLUMN: Living In The Past

04 Tuesday Jan 2022

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Living In The Past

*These columns can’t find much traction lately. Short stories may just be the answer. For now, it’s an esoteric gripe. And this one runs a day early! You’re welcome.

Living in the past. I’ve been doing that a lot lately. Several folks who watch the show have applauded some of my boring old stories about life in America before it was ruined. Cheap donuts. Aluminum Christmas trees. Peppermints in banks that paid interest on accounts. Tacky furniture and cigarette smoke. Norman Rockwell kind of things. I know that these good people also remember, and that is well. 

Why do we do it? Psychologists who study nostalgia suggest it may have to do with remembering a brighter past as compared to a perceived unfavorable present. To that, many a moron will add, stupidly and blindly, something about greener grass or things being what one makes of them. Silence, fools. Some of us will not live by the first law of “Brave New World.”

For those who caught the very end of it, life in civilized Columbia was better – by far – than what passes for existence in our fear-based, post-modern circus. 

I prefer remembering a time when I saw my people wherever I went as opposed to watching their numbers decrease at an accelerating pace. 2020 was a terrible year; we suffered a net loss of some 627,000 White Heritage Americans. 2021 looks to be even bleaker. Based on the very limited information now trickling out, it would not surprise your author if we said farewell to another 1 – 2 million of our kind.

Those who remain are what? Fat, mentally-ill, retarded, drunken, hedonistic heathens? At times, it seems so.

And they are being replaced – that is the only word that fits – by a host of boisterous, even duller-witted primitives who, in all the history of the Earth, have demonstrated zero ability to build or maintain any semblance of civilization.

All of them appear complacent if not happy being lorded over by wicked tribalists who literally worship the devil. 

Find a real member of the Posterity, or his Irish, German, or Italian proxy, tell him any of the foregoing, and watch as the wicked idiocy runs through his tired mind. Listen to his craven responses. “That sounds a certain way!” Good! “They’ll call you bad names!” Good! I have names for them too. “Yeah. We just need to get back to the [Constitution, Republic, Republican majority, Enlightenment fantasy, etc.].” Go with the pine box. It degrades faster. Be useful for once!

If you’ve not made any resolutions for this new year in the new abnormal, then might I suggest a few? Try ditching the fear, degeneracy, and willful stupidity. If you’re in but not of the World, at least act like it. In the meantime, I am more than happy to reminisce about a world that no longer exists. I also have fictional worlds I control. Those need more attention this year. If you are literate, feel free to read along.

And, the real future? It could be bright if some would put forth a little effort. Who knows?

I come not to praise Utoya but to cleanse it.

The New Ed Columns and Posts

31 Friday Dec 2021

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Will only feature actual education, barring extreme circumstances. Stories like this one, about “students” in a third-world county and state going “virtual,” will not cut it. All of these children will be better off away from the “schools,” the longer away the better. The subject school system ranks in the bottom 10% of one of the dullest state’s in the disunion. What, really, is there to lose? And, given that American children account for less than 2% of the student population, there’s the who-really-cares factor. In this sad case, rather than repeat HOMESCHOOL!, let me just advise that electricity, indoor plumbing, and gasoline, while convenient, are not guaranteed.

THE FINAL COLUMN (of 2021)

29 Wednesday Dec 2021

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THE FINAL COLUMN (of 2021)

 

Another year is almost in the books and THANK GOD 2021 is passing by.

Here are a few random thoughts about the end of one year and the coming of the next one.

If you enjoy these columns and/or my blog in general, then please make sure to bookmark the site. As I continue to de-link from post-modernity, one of the things on the chopping block might be the email “Follow” feature. 

The columns found a new (old) home back here following my departure from the little paper that has since gone back to its roots. All’s well!

Much of the rest of my more recent posting consists of simple links to the PPN daily shows. These keep growing in popularity by leaps and bounds. I think it’s now safe to say it’s the biggest little prepper news podcast in the world. Look for bigger and better things with the show come sometime next year. Maybe be ready to $ubscribe. 

Those of you who watch or listen to the show know that as of January the First, all talk of “COVID” will center entirely on the war aspects, the war crimes, and the prosecution of the same. This is my personal outlook as well. There will be no third year of this most insidious retardery for me and mine. If that’s not for you, then, by all means, take your tenth(?) booster, stroke out, and go away.

I did enjoy much of the past twelve months. In addition to watching the final death of the Old US, the hilarious victory of the Taliban in Afghanistan, the rise of the Anti-Globalist Alliance, and the continuing madness over the common cold, I cut substantial ties with a variety of idiots, heathens, headcases, and drunks. This will continue in 2022. I’m hoping that the phone goes in 2023, with the departure from electricity sometime before the end of the decade (irrespective of the general loss as the dead society slips through civil war into third-world darkness). 

I fell in love with Gal Gadot this year! See, show him a beautiful and true woman, and even a curmudgeonly Luddite will see a beautiful and true woman in a sea of otherwise useless crap.

You too, I can tell. May’s Gal Gadot: Good, True, and Beautiful was by far the most popular column and post on the site this year. I stand by every word, though now I could add three times more!

*Yes, I am aware of this week’s “Illuminati Eye” photo(s). It’s 1) a joke, 2) she’s playing another role, or 3) see my original first paragraph about the sultriness. If – then – okay. No Gammas.

Did you know I have graduated to full, master curmudgeon? Yes. New powers to be wielded at will.

There has to be more fiction ahead. Maybe some more non-fiction. I have (or practically have) a “real” publisher now. Stand by the credit cards and so forth.

Part of this year has been difficult because I maxed out on many important topics. I look forward to new energy in the coming months. I might even repeat a few of those topics, perhaps repeatedly. 

Before I get to the next random thing, I remembered that nearly three years ago I wrote something for that deceased rerooted little paper about other little papers – three small-town news outfits that then still got the job done. We’re down to one now. Keep the Rocket Blowing, gents and gals. 

A very few of you who attended university with me in another distant century might recall my mocking relabeling of UGA’s Red & Black newspaper as the “Gay & Black” – owing to the target demographics as gleaned from the articles. For whatever reason, the other week I read a little from the Red & Black Gay & Black. Very little has changed… But I did find out that the Dunkin Donuts on Prince recently suffered a fire. That made me think of several things.

For one, I’ll not ever need to read the G&B again. For another, I’m no longer impressed with UGA. At all. In fact, around the time these digital pages go dark and a little manual typewriter starts hammering, I foresee a series of degrees, diplomas, and certificates being renounced. 

For yet another thing: what memories from the Dunkin Donuts on Prince! The one that came rushing back was about a morning some years ago. We’ll say it was 1979. This was, by the way, before Fred the Baker started rising before dawn to “make the donuts.” While en route to the mountains, an old class-C RV pulled into the Dunkin lot from Milledge. My old man and my mom’s dad went inside for sugar and caffeine. I stayed up in the comfy, spacious bed over the cab, where all the cool kids rode in old Winnebegos back in the day. It was lethally dangerous and yet, somehow, we all survived. 

We were stronger then. We had a little left of that thing called freedom. We had more affordable donuts too. Now, we have a crime against humanity, freaks destroying higher education, and a citizenry too stupid to really notice or care. Then again, we also have Mrs. Gadot. And the promise of another new year. We have these grand words of grumpy nostalgic wisdom. Not so bad, now, is it?

Happy New Year, 2022! Onward.

(Weak Christmas Fiction) COLUMN: Buddy’s Christmas Tree

23 Thursday Dec 2021

Posted by in fiction, Other Columns

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Buddy’s Christmas Tree

*Hello and Season’s Greetings, Friends! This is what may have to pass for the annual Christmas (micro) fiction. This, of course, is the weakly weekly column, geared to those in the PPN audience. Please enjoy!

 

A studio in a converted garden shed, one December evening…

Perrin babbled away, again: ‘…now, ladies and gentlemen, we’re joined by the most wonderful actress and woman in the world, the lovely and gracious Gal Gadot! Hey, Gal! How’s the high life in Hollywood? Boy, oh boy, did I enjoy Red Notice! Thank you for coming on again so soon…’ The conversation would go on for several hours.

From high on his little FRC box perch, Buddy, Jr. looked on with pity. What a shame, he thought; the big guy should get out more, maybe bite the bullet and date that pretty secret agent woman. He cleared his throat and said, ‘Well, now, I’m running out for a bit. Kind of like you should. Uh. Okay, you just talk to yourself, again, for a while. Bye now.’ Perrin continued to gibber happily – to no one – about movies, and Goodles, and other things he knew nothing about. 

Ignored, as usual, the tiny lizard made his way down the cheap cardboard-like paneling. As he crossed the cold, unforgiving concrete floor, he passed the very spot where Buddy Senior’s tenure had abruptly ended. He crossed himself. Then, he carefully darted here and there through a maze of cigar boxes, empty coffee bags, and other rubbish. Next, he climbed over and past various boxes and crates bearing such odd labels as “RDX” and “Titanium Diboride.” By the door, he stopped and put on his extremely small coat, hat, and mittens. 

A gust of cold wind blew in the crack under the door where the weather stripping had broken away. Buddy was just about to exit when the Old Drunken Spider wobbled in, carrying with him a cricket (that we all know was just sleeping). ‘The big fool talking to himself again?’ the old creepy-crawler asked with a hiccup.

‘No!’ Buddy said emphatically. ‘This time it’s for real. He’s got Wonder Woman on Zoom!’ After a quiet moment, they both fell out laughing.

‘Almost had me there, Greenie!’ the spider chuckled as he staggered sideways a bit. ‘Well, if he’s having another … interview, I’ll just go to the other end and entertain my guest here.’ He patted the cricket – who was still sleeping. ‘You take care out there; it’s starting to snow if you’ll believe it.’

After staring at the mouth-watering sleeping cricket for a second, Buddy said ‘thanks and good evening,’ tipped his tiny hat, and ducked under the poorly-fitted door. Walking under the rusting, dented hulk of what had once been an SUV, he remembered his long years spent forgotten in the glove compartment. Those metal wires sticking out of the tires must be for extra traction, he thought as he emerged into the wide-open space behind the driveway. With little white flakes falling all around, he made his way through the yard and down the lane.

Over on the corner, under the soft rays of an old street lamp, Buddy found the Tiny Postman busy gathering letters from the tiny, special Santa Mail mailbox. 

‘Good evening, Tiny Postman!’ Buddy said. ‘All those gonna make it in time?’

‘Evening, Buddy,’ said Tiny Postman. And, yes, these are just in time. Say, you live in the shed. Any idea if this sad story will feature any other FP characters? Or a real plot?’

‘No, I’m afraid not,’ Buddy said with a shrug. ‘It’s just self-deprecating nonsense, a sleeping cricket, me, and my quest to find the perfect you-know-what.’

‘Ah, well. Maybe next Christmas. Anyway, are you off to the little magic place in the woods?’

‘That’s the place!’ Buddy exclaimed. ‘I’d better hurry. I hear they’re having a party tonight.’

The diminutive friends parted ways and Buddy hurried on. As a surprisingly healthy snow began to fall in earnest, he crossed the vacant lot and entered the woods. As he made his way into the trees, he passed several more friends. With each step, he grew more excited. Finally, he rounded a corner and stood beneath the most magical, special tree in the glade – the Northern Operations Tree of the Prepper Elves! Buddy clasped his little mittened hands together and smiled. He knew that inside that tree was a very special little tree all for him. But then, with genuine shock, he read the sign on the door: CLOSED. GONE TO CHRISTMAS PARTY AT FPHQ. BACK IN JANUARY.

Crushed, Buddy made his way back through the woods. He lamented Perrin’s cheapness and general aversion to travel. They themselves could have been at that party. Should have been. Maybe there, Buddy could have gotten his special little tree. But, as it sometimes happens, some things just aren’t meant to be. Back in the vacant lot, he ran into the Angry Cat. That encounter is the stuff of a story for another day. Needless to say, Buddy survived. He walked slowly through the snow with his head down until he again moved under the wreck of the Old Bug-Out Vehicle and Mobile Prepper Studio.™ Suddenly, he noticed something – something near the shed door that had not been there when he’d left.

Down on the ground by the crack under the door was a very small box with a bow on top. There was also a tiny card with his name on it. He carefully read the tiny card:

Dearest Buddy, Jr,

Here’s a present for the cutest little plastic lizard in the prepping world.

Merry Christmas, from your biggest fan.

Love,

GG ♡

Before he went inside to hang up his tiny coat and hat and mittens, Buddy opened the box. And, what do you suppose he found inside?!

The End

(Not very good, but at least it’s over! Merry Christmas!)