Redux from 25th October 2020 – What if Biden wins?

The wisdom of the ages endures because it’s simply that – wisdom. After all the storms and vicissitudes of fashion, politics, wars and social upheaval have ran their transitory course and been largely forgotten, it’s all that remains except for the common man who’s survived them all. That’s been true from even before the life of Virgil who wrote the Aeneid two millennia ago which contains the words “taedet caeli convexa tueri” – it becomes dispiriting constantly to watch the arch of heaven. A more modern translation would substitute ways for arch and a less accurate but more spirited one would be “will they never learn”.

As always, any future hope lies with the common man. Ecclesiastes has the phrase men come and go but Earth abides, but I was always unconvinced about that one since it predicates a sort of ineffectual hopelessness about the impact of anyones life. If you’ve ever seen a moment where one person’s refusal to take the easy way out and by resolutely holding a true course through a storm, changed things, you’ll probably have the same reservations. If anything, it’s the other way around. Human nature is the only constant in an ever-changing world.

In Tennyson’s epic poem about the death of King Arthur, his last remaining knight Sir Bedivere tries to do his bidding but finally realises the new world he’s going to have to deal with – “… the days darken round me, and the years, Among new men, strange faces, other minds.” The story that’s reproduced in full below is from the viewpoint of the common man’s eyes and although set seven years hence, will start becoming true from this afternoon onwards.

——–<<<<<<O>>>>>>>——

It’d been seven years since the Fall, though you had to be careful of the company you were in to use that term. The Big Change was much safer, but if there was one of the true believers around, the People’s Revolution was the safest. A lot had changed in that time, though the first changes had been seemingly trivial. As time went by, they gradually got bigger until the party had rearranged the fundamentals of America more to its liking.

Their number one thing on the agenda had been adding a seemingly trivial qualification to the First Amendment. You still had a right to free speech, just as long as it wasn’t hate speech. Everything that happened afterwards had flowed from that seemingly innocuous tweak of the constitution.

They’d got it through a congress still in shock over the most corrupt election in American history, but the methods used to do it foreshadowed the shape of things to come. A majority of the population nodded it through because, after all, everybody knew hate speech was a bad thing, but it never occurred to them to wonder who exactly would decide what constituted hate speech. Getting the required number of votes in congress to change the Bill of Rights had been the first big test. They already had control of both Houses, so all they needed to get was enough of the Republican congressmen to go along with it.

The covert swamp dwellers in that party revealed themselves to be classic RINOs and voted accordingly, but to get the necessary number of votes the dissenting holdouts were the problem. They were treated to an intense combination of intimidation and outright violence until they saw things the People’s way. Each got their very own campaign of vilification tailored just for them.

Big tech expanded its role from just censoring stories to getting involved in creating them using as a justification a small army of anonymous online whistle blowers who all just happened to be party members. The truth about them became whatever damning scandal complete with witnesses suddenly appeared on social media. The best stories were the creative products of fake news and just as naturally the means of disseminating them was big tech.

All but the most defiant caved under such pressure but for the remaining dissenters, it got a lot grimmer. The FBI readily supplied whatever dirt they had on them or made some up. Either way, suddenly they’d acquired criminal records from years ago, and they came complete with warrants to arrest on sight. Whatever it was, it all had to be true because as everybody knew, the computer never lies. They got dragged into courtrooms where their defense attorney knew full well that despite his best efforts, his client stood no chance against a hand picked jury and a hostile judge. A plea bargain in the hope of mercy was as good as it was going to get. In the end, they pushed their amendment through.

It was the first time all the elements of repression had came together so intensely :- the politicians, the law, law enforcement, the media and big tech. All would individually evolve and build on that first success in the years to come.

What had been the old Democrat party was eventually renamed to the Freedom party because the people who’d thoroughly penetrated and subverted it were uneasy with having the distasteful word democrat in their party’s title. All the free things they’d promised were gradually delivered, and in time a few unexpected ones, though by now the tax burden on the ordinary person was crippling. There wasn’t anybody Grant knew who wasn’t getting by without some sort of state aid. These days, everybody was in the welfare class. It wasn’t exactly the breadline, but it wasn’t far off it either.

The first year, the puppet president made a few mumbling appearances, but always pre-recorded so any gaffs could be edited out. It wasn’t long before he retired to be replaced by Harris, who didn’t last the remaining year before falling victim to the sleek new two week impeachment process because she started to think she was a real president. The office of president had now been replaced with a Freedom Leader elected by the senate on a yearly basis.

It became the old good cop/bad cop routine. When they needed to screw down the population more, they got treated to Mr. Bad Freedom Leader for a year and when the grumbling became too vocal, they got Mr. Good Freedom Leader for the next one. He’d ease things off in his year, but never enough to totally reverse Mr. Bad Leader’s decrees.

At first the extras were just things you applied for and were given. The first was a people’s mobile phone you could talk on endlessly for free. It was very popular until people gradually realised everything to and from it was recorded. About the same time, the first state visputer was offered for free as well. It was a combined deluxe television and computer which was also very popular, if only because it too and everything on it was free.

Having given the workers just enough honey, owning anything other than a state-supplied mobile and visputer were declared illegal. All the old phones, computers and televisions lost connectivity at the touch of a button by big tech and had to be turned over to the District Leaders, which was what mayors were now called. Grant had resisted having both devices in his home until it became mandatory. The friendly tech who installed it had taken him aside before plugging it in to show him a tattered piece of paper saying “It watches and listens to everything”, with the everything underlined. If he was caught doing that these days, it’d hit his score very badly.

Grant, along with most people, cursed the day computers were ever invented. It was a foreign presence, a stranger in your home around whom you had to choose your words very carefully. It noted every site you visited and what programs you watched or chose not to, and adjusted your score accordingly. Every click of a like or dislike button was noted and added to your file, because nowadays everybody had a file at computer central, which they were assured was there to improve their easy of life and for their own safety.

Putting an unpluggable, always-on, state spy into every home wasn’t good enough for them. Everybody now had a spy inside their very body, courtesy of the Gates’ COVID vaccine, which came with added nanocells which uniquely identified you. Carrying plastic became obsolete, since one wave of your hand at the cash point sensor debited the amount from your bank balance, which of course was held at computer central. You were at liberty to refuse the vaccination, but you instantly became unemployable, treated like an infected pariah in a fully vaccinated workforce.

The country became studded with state sensors which everybody knew were much more sensitive than the ones at a checkout. At any moment, the state knew exactly where every individual was, and if they collected together, the reason why, because all public gatherings, no matter how small, had to be notified to central in advance. If no reason had been notified, the State Leader’s office was automatically alerted and he passed it down to the appropriate District Leader, who in turn passed it down to the appropriate neighbourhood Freedom Officer to look into. The latter were the eyes and ears of the party at a local level and in conjunction with the local police, acted as its enforcer. Grant smiled bitterly, because he recognised where they’d borrowed that framework from.

Contrary to most expectations, police departments had not been defunded and abolished. Instead, nearly all their ranks from lieutenant upwards had been replaced by the Antifa zealots, who became a force of thugs who answered to no master but the local Freedom Officer. They kept the same uniforms, with the addition of the black armband with the party symbol on it, but unlike the old police, they could beat you to death in broad daylight with impunity.

The vaccination together with the pervasive digital surveillance completed their domination, because it enable the creation of the Sympathetic to the Party Score, or just your score. It ran in a minutely graduated scale from zero to plus five, but it could also run from zero to minus five. If you did and said the party approved things, it ticked upwards. One word out of place, one attendance at the weekly party meeting missed, not clicking the approve button, attending a religious service or just some unfounded gossip about you ticked it downwards, and the party had subtle ways of letting you know your score was in negative territory. When the food bank put you on short rations automatically, you knew you’d better work on your score because if you ever hit minus five, bad things happened to you. It was the perfect conditioning on the way to automatic self-censorship.

The way to cure a score that was in unhealthy territory was to try harder to get with the program and things like volunteering to spy for the Freedom Officer. The quickest was to denounce a friend or neighbour. For the first time in its history, Americans began to live in fear their neighbours because of the ever-present danger of denunciation.

If your score hit minus five, you got a 3am visit from the FBI who’d easily transitioned into the role of secret police. It wasn’t a knock on your door you got, but it being broken down without warning and a flood of black-clad men armed to the teeth smashing your home to pieces to arrest you. Behind them came a full camera crew to film the whole arrest for the Party channel’s Take them Down program.

Whatever you were watching, your visputer would switch over to the Party channel when that program was on. The format was always the same. First some FBI person listing all your crimes, even the petty misdemeanors, then the public-spirited person who’d denounced the victim and after that a judge would talk over the facts of the case before turning to the FBI man and delivering the show’s signature punchline with a snarl – take them down. The judiciary, all the way up to a packed Supreme Court, had become a travesty of justice.

The final segment was the secret police forcing entry and arresting the miscreant with lots of bangs, flashes, shouting and screaming. That was originally the exciting live segment of the show until one poor bastard managed to eat his illicitly held gun just before they got their hands on him. After that disaster, it wasn’t live anymore. The whole point of the program and the others like it, was to drive home the same lesson – resisting the state was futile.

There had been armed resistance in the early years but they were all dead now. Some people had made their way into the wilderness to escape but they’d all been hunted down except for a few who’d been left in place in fenced off hunting reserves for the next episode of Hunt the Criminal – shown live prime time on the party channel. Each week there’d be an exciting chase on the party channel before some ragged wretch was finally cornered and put down.

There were rumours of a resistance that could be contacted on the darknet, but the few people who’d dusted off old antique computers hidden away in their attic and tried it, disappeared into the correction camps. Just another FBI trap to lure out the dissidents. The only faint hope seemed to be in the abandoned big cities which had become reduced to nothing but piles of rubble in the riots.

There were persistent rumours that people still lived free in them which seemed to be confirmed when the People’s Army made a massive sweep through old New York city to clear out the city rats, as the viscoder called them. The rumour was they ended up catching an old man too sick to run and a few children, but it was presented as a very successful operation. They’d never repeated the exercise though, perhaps because as another rumour suggested, they’d taken horrific casualties in the man-on-man fighting in the narrow confines of the shattered city. Who knew what to believe these days.

Grant was sitting in the darkness of his living room, ignoring the murmurings of his visputer and waiting for the secret police to call. After being so careful for so many years, he’d finally had enough and let it all out. He hardly knew his youngest child of nine who’d knew nothing but the vile junk the party’s kindergarten and junior school teachers had indoctrinated him with and the older one had been fully brainwashed by college until she had become a party member zealot, always on the lookout for saboteurs of the people’s revolution.

Listening to her lecturing him for the umpteenth time about the purity of the American bloodline and how it needed to be guarded and protected by some necessary weeding out of undesirables, had been just that one too many occasions of him listening to her endless rants in silence. She just wouldn’t stop, perhaps because she realised she wasn’t getting through to him.

That little flame of resistance inside him that he’d feared was almost extinguished roared into a raging conflagration and he told her exactly what he thought of the party and its glorious initiatives. About the concentration camps, the terrorisation, the euthanasia of the crippled and retarded, the desecration of the churches, the miserable existence presenting itself as freedom and the forced steralisations of mixed marriages. Once he started, he couldn’t stop and he gave her both barrels. One day, somehow, we’ll rise up and wipe scum like you and your party off the face of the Earth.

After a stunned silence, she’d stormed out to denounce him to their local Freedom Officer, and that’s why he was now sitting in darkness in the middle of the night expecting the secret police. He no longer cared.

One by one, the lights in that shining city upon a hill had gone out.

©Pointman

Comments
2 Responses to “Redux from 25th October 2020 – What if Biden wins?”
  1. patrick healy says:

    THE STEALER

    RIP America
    It is sad to see you go
    The way of past great empires
    For to you a debt we owe
    A light in the great darkness
    You kept satan in his place,
    A bastion of freedom
    Guardian of the human race,

    But while you were distracted
    The deceiver took the youth,
    They were indoctrinated
    Contradicting Christian truth;
    Now they have taken over
    As the teachers had conspired,
    the marxist coup completed
    Without any bullet fired.

    We get to twenty twenty
    With the great election fraud,
    Many dead ones voted twice
    Many more imported from abroad;
    Total votes do not matter
    Just ignore your vast amount,
    We’ve decided on the winner
    We manipulate the count.

    Old Joe O’Bama’s senile
    He is just an avatar,
    It’s Harris ‘they’ have chosen
    As the Chinese rising star;
    When ailing Joe is sectioned
    Into his shoes she’s poised to jump,
    The coup de gras accomplished
    They’ve got rid of Donald Trump.

    Patrick Healy

    Like

  2. another ian says:

    “Antifa types smash Oregon Democrat headquarters ‘We don’t want Biden, we want revenge’ ”

    https://www.michaelsmithnews.com/2021/01/antifa-types-smash-oregon-democrat-headquarters-we-dont-want-biden-we-want-revenge.html FYI

    Like

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