Almost every time I post these days – and at some point specify the purpose of the content – a whispering voice in my left cortex asks, “Is this for real?” This brief Slog post is about my desired near future connection with the world on media, socio-cultural, economic, financial, hitech, personal security and investment. Were I to wind the Time Machine back to 2003 and read what I’m about to opine on such matters, I would be 95 per cent certain that a paranoia synapse had taken control of my bonce, and a rapid descent into a Bedlam Season Ticket was my inevitable fate.
I therefore preface this Slogpost with the usual warnings about accountability: the content is about the why, what and how of goals I have planned in an attempt to survive the iniquity lumbering down the road towards every one of us.
I am not a professional advisor, I merely hope to explain what I am doing. What you do is entirely your own affair.
I regard my plans and goals as measures of global madness rather than mine own.
It’s your decision what to do [if anything] with the information I impart.
When I began substacking, blogging and generally pestering everyone more than two decades ago, there is no way the following tactics and strategies would have been anything other than repellent to me: I would have dismissed almost all of it as melodramatic survivalist claptrap.
But in the interim, we have scored a million own-goals thanks to the disease of compliance.
So with that in mind, listen up collaborators: here’s where I’m going….
1. I propose to gradually withdraw all funds from all bank accounts until – around the end of August this year – the relationship reaches absolute zero.
2. Once converted into other forms – property income, long-life canned goods, clean borehole water, high security, solar heating, freshly planted Vitamin C and lying about on the beach soaking up Vitamin D – the escape from Fiat Money can be swiftly achieved.
3. Myself and my business partner are already two-thirds of the way down the road of building a fine house with free and clean borehole water, natural off-grid temperature control, on a more than ample plot creating fruit and veg self-sufficiency with a view to achieving the last separation from 21st century funny money madness – viz, Barter.
4. I recognise perfectly well that one of the first freedoms to go will be trade by exchange that cuts money out of the deal….ie, Barter Market Trading.
But allow me to be, just this once, an optimist: there is not an alley-cat in Hell’s chance of policing such a ban.
We’ve been here before, so let’s take a different, equally positive slant on the issue. Think about it this way: I very much doubt if the soi-disant élites [that vast O.O3 per cent of us] have more one in a thousand of their number with the remotest idea of how to grow anything from a water chestnut to a weed; they’ve never had
dirty fingernails in their lives.
Surely it wouldn’t be that hard, literally and metaphorically, to starve the beast? While they’re busy finding ways to kill us and selling the insane idea of Scorpion sur ses tostes as the new simply must have starter, dahlinks…..supposing the farmers, traiteurs and chi-chi chefs simply said, “No food for genocidalistas”?
It works for me: a French campaign including restaurant signs that say, “We poison mass murderers”. German bier Kellers promising “Today’s Special – Sausages steeped in Turbo-charged, Green-reared mRNA cancers”.
I jest.
But then…do I really?
Who has the best reputation in the EU for defying the likes of Macron?
The farmers.
Who has played the biggest role in catapulting Geert Wilders into the mainstream
of Dutch politics?
The Farmers.
Who creates the largest demonstrations against globalist supression of Spanish wines and food prices?
The Farmers.
The one part of the survivalist switch gear The People control even more than Big Pharma’s Bigwigs and banking’s control of reliable money is food.
WE DO HAVE THE POWER, BUT OUR
MUSCLES LACK EXERCISE. WE HAVE BECOME SOFT: TONED BICEPS AND DETERMINATION ARE IN SHORT SUPPLY.
What the West needs is a Food Strike in which the beetle-recommending diet pushers are brought face to face with their own brass neck.
I’d like to take this opportunity to thank all those Sloggers who answered the appeal to establish the whereabouts of Little Klaus, now reunited [within 36 hours] with his Mutti after eighteen weeks of mulling over stepping back to be persuaded to step back from being out front.
As you can clearly discern, Klaus is well-chuffed to be back and on message about stepping back. During an unfortunate incident involving a knitting machine, all his fingernails were pulled out, but he chuckled as he told reporters, “That’s enough kneedle-work for me ho-ho”. The media too were united in praising the wisdom of his decision after only seventeen weeks to, as it were, step back rather than forward, especially since his kneecaps are now facing in a backwards direction. The media coverage is nothing less than a triumph for open-minded Free Speech:
Yes, it’s official, Herr Schwab is stepping back in order to step down, and then he’ll be down and out…or stepping down before turning to step back so he can sit down and put his feet up. It’s the new dancing sensation that’s -a sweepin’ the nation.
Oh, the joys of a media set free as a bird to ignore press-release bullshit and report the facts with fearless venom: where would we be without them?
“You vud haff nuzzink and you vud be very happy,” Klaus opined before stepping back and then down into a black hole in the Metaverse
The Slog 