In short, all the stuff of civilization — municipal buildings, education, religion, transportation, recreation — seems under assault in the last year by the contemporary forces of barbarism. After several thefts of mail, I ordered a fortified, armored mailbox. I was ecstatic when I saw the fabricator’s Internet ad: On the video, someone with an AK-47 emptied a clip into it; the mail inside was untouched. I gleefully said to myself: “That’s the one for me.” And it has been so far. But I wonder: Do the thieves not like to get their own mail? Do their children not play Little League? Do they not want a priest at their funeral? Would they not like to drive their cars without worrying about holes in the street? Or is their thinking that a rich society can cover for their crimes without their crimes’ ever much affecting them — given that most others still do not act as they do?
There is indeed something of the Dark Ages about all this. In the vast rural expanse between the Sierras and the Coast Ranges, and from Sacramento to Bakersfield, our rural homes are like stray sheep outside the herd, without whatever protection is offered by the density of a town. When we leave for a trip or just go into town, the predators swarm.
I would point out that beneath the title of this blog is the tag, 'Broadcasting from the precipice of the 2nd Dark Ages'.
Almost two years ago I wrote the following description of life circa 2020. Some thought it was mere hyperbole. It wasn't.
It’s late summer, 2020 and you’re at home on a typical Tuesday evening and, as usual, sweating profusely in the sweltering summer heat. The fans and air-conditioners are useless because of the rolling blackouts caused by the strain of an additional 200 million people –and counting (added to America since the 1980’s) on the electrical grids. And, naturally, the flak jacket you’re compelled to wear, day and night, isn’t helping.
You consider opening a window, but it’s just too dangerous. Besides keeping the living room window closed helps muffle the noise and “music” the 40 Mexicans next door blast 24 hours a day, seven days a week. Ditto the dining room window on the other side of the house. It helps to slightly muffle the BOOM, BOOM, BOOM the blacks play at their place. Besides, who wants to hear ALL of the screaming and gunshots as the two groups intermittently strive to ambush one another (across your backyard) on a daily basis?
And, as a bonus, by keeping all the windows closed you can barely hear the Muslim prayer calls five times a day. Not to mention that it keeps the smoke out. Yeah, there’s always smoke in the air. If it isn’t from from some riot or gang fight going on somewhere, it’s Detroit everywhere and Devil’s Night every night for the local black arsonists.
Even so , closed windows won’t shield your view of the two dead bodies in the street out front: the result of the ongoing Somali vs. Peruvian turf war in your neighborhood. It’s all the worse that they’ve been lying there in the street for two weeks now. There’s no police, no fire department, no nothing - except for the IRS, of course! Death and taxes, you know. And to think, you were once worried about a police state!
Following standard safety protocol, as it’s evening and nearing dark, the wife and kids are huddled together in the basement below. Sure, it’s dark and stiflingly hot down there, but they have a flashlight if they need it and a bucket if they have to go the bathroom.
As you crawl around your house (standing in a home or office just isn’t done - too many random shooters going by), clutching your trusty-rusty shotgun, you happen upon some mail that the US Armed Postal Service delivered this month (they’re back on their usual tri-monthly mail service now!). You come across a newsletter from the Joint Organizations for Keeping English, one of those conglomerations of traditionalist groups who got together in a bunker somewhere and came up with a platform to oppose the outlawing of the English language in the Peoples Republic of North America.
They inform you that, thanks to their lobbying, if you can steal some gas for your Tuk-tuk, sneak out of your favela without getting your throat cut, and find a polling station that has not yet been burned to the ground or heavily guarded by black, Mexican, Brazilian, Arab, Hindu, Muslim, Native American, Peruvian, Somalian, Iraqi, Iranian, Pakistani, Puerto Rican, Columbian, Venezuelan, Turkish, Hmong, Vietnamese, Cambodian, Thai, Afghani, Chinese, Filipino, Honduran, Nicaraguan, Haitian, or Nigerian thugs, AND IF the voting material is not censored in your area or destroyed or permanently “delayed in transit”, then it is entirely possible, and not beyond the realm of possibility, that your vote may count come this fall….if there are elections this year.
I should mention that jews are not included in the above list because they do not have to control the polling stations. They control the government(s).
Of course, there are times when you have to leave the building. But you don’t just up and walk outside or around your own yard, let alone go down the street or to the market for groceries. Your brother tried that a few months back and his charred body is still hanging off the overpass downtown. Far worse happened to Aunt Jane last year and grandma and a few cousins the year before that. But, hey, that’s just life in rural, small town, Iowa. It’s the same all over. And they say the cities and large towns are worse. Much worse.
Granted, voting on whether or not English is to be legally outlawed in a nation where 65% - the official figure - don’t speak English anyway, might not be as critical an issue as, say, acquiring food and water or striving every day to keep yourself and your family from being murdered or your house from being burned to the ground, but, it’s a start, right? First steps and what not, and all that, and so forth.
And if all goes well with the mailing lists, who knows, maybe you and the two other surviving White families in your state can network, somehow, sort of. Well, probably not. But it’s a nice idea!
The entire article can be read here.