Hey folks, I know I haven’t been posting lately, but it certainly isn’t due to a lack of things to say.
I must admit, despite having turned this blog into a virtual ghost town over the past 18 months, I still get a lot of really nice emails from readers, and I just wanted to give you all a collective “thank you” for your kind words.
At this point, my gut instinct is telling me to hang up my boxing gloves and quit writing here and just turn this URL into a dusty museum located in a back alley somewhere on the internet.
Look, I’ve put in a good 12 years here and shared lots of adventures, which has been a lot of fun for me, but I’m having a hard time understanding why I should continue. And mostly what I’ve been thinking about for the past few months is why I feel this way.
Well, the other day, I was cleaning up a mess caused by our dogs, and I ended up knocking over a couple of the remaining (printed) books I have left in my possession, and the small tome that landed face-up on the floor was none other than George Orwell’s novel “1984.”
I’ve read the book a dozen times, probably, in my life, but I have absolutely no memory of acquiring that physical copy. I know I didn’t buy it, but I can’t remember if it was given to me as a gift or what.
Either way, there it was, and it was between the covers of that book that I finally discovered the answer to my question.
In this modern age, the world is replete with “misinformation” and “disinformation,” which is another way to say that a lot of what you read is completely fake.
I should know since I’ve spent years writing articles for other people that were all utter horseshit. In fact, I once wrote an entire book (a travel guide) about a country that I’ve never visited, and, in fact, I’ve never met a single person from that country.
To be fair, I had no idea that I was authoring that book as I was actually hired to just write a few informational guides to tourist hotspots in the country (which was fake enough). I thought my articles were just being used as SEO bait to lure in internet traffic to the guy’s website, but it turns out that he went and collated all my articles together into a book without adding a single word of his own (as soon as I discovered it, I stopped working for him).
But I am certainly guilty of knowingly writing (for money) hundreds and hundreds of articles on other topics, articles that profess an “expertise” in a subject about which I know nothing about and were just “remixes” of what’s already out there on the internet, all published under a fake name.
It was purely mercenary work in order to put food on my table, but that doesn’t make it any more ethical.
In terms of real and true information, there’s very little of it out there, and the problem is about to get exponentially worse. Within a year (at most), there are going to be millions of AI-generated articles, essays, and social media comments flooding the internet.
So why should I continue writing the truth here on this blog? Why keep on telling my version of the truth?
Well, if it was just a question of being authentic in a sea full of bullshit, then damn right, I’d keep writing. Why not? I’m no coward. And I’ve got plenty of opinions about what’s going on. And people don’t have to like what I say since this blog isn’t about making money, right?
But it turns out that there’s more to it than that. And that’s because there are actually two faces to “misinformation” or conspiracy theories or whatever term you prefer to call it.
The Conspiracy of Lies
These days, it’s easy to find proof that the “official story” out there on any given subject is a lie.
For instance, to this very day, “experts” and governments keep repeating that wearing surgical masks stops the transmission of respiratory illnesses (of any kind, not just “Covid-19”). This is a lie. It’s a complete and utter lie, through and through, without even a shred of truth to it.
And if you start pulling threads, you’ll find these kinds of lies everywhere, about everything. Even “ancient” history such as what happened during World War 1 is generally filled with lies, these days, even though all the people involved are all long since dead.
Start pulling threads, and everything easily unravels. Pick literally almost any topic, and start digging, and you’ll see what I mean. There’s even a term for it called “going down the rabbit hole.”
Originally, I used to believe that unmasking these lies had some value. That if you reveal the truth about something, big or small, then people will say, “Aha! Thank you for telling me what is going on.”
But I fear that’s no longer the case. The sheer volume of lies is so overwhelming now that it’s impossible to debunk them all fast enough. And even when the truth does start to get a little traction, the government or some other powerful force will step in and shut it all down.
Still, though, it’s a noble fight. After all, just because the White Rose group was caught and executed by the Nazis doesn’t mean that their struggle was in vain, for instance.
But for the world to truly succumb to evil, there must be also be a second component to the lies, and this is the part that made Orwell’s book so unforgettable.
The 3 Principles of Ingsoc
There have been plenty of books and stories about the dangers of tyranny and autocratic governments. Hell, even Plato wrote one (called “The Republic”) more than 2,500 years ago.
So why does Orwell’s novel 1984 stand out? It isn’t because of the jackbooted thugs or the torture chambers or the “Big Brother” security apparatus watching people’s every moves.
No, the truly evil aspect of the government in the novel is summed up by this line concerning the three principles of Ingsoc (the ruling class’s philosophy):
Newspeak, doublethink, and the mutability of the past.
If you’ve read the novel, then you’ll know that “newspeak” (new + speak) refers to the transformation of the entire language so that new definitions of words make it impossible for people to have the vocabulary to discuss “unapproved” things (called “thoughtcrime” in the book).
Doublethink refers to a method of indoctrination in which people are convinced not to believe their own thoughts or evidence of the truth, even when it is right in front of them.
Lastly, the “mutability of the past” refers to the re-contextualization of past events to transform them into whatever suits the current political climate. For instance, a battle that was lost in the past can be “transformed” into a battle that was won (ask Ramesses II about how that was done 3,297 years ago LOL).
It’s pretty easy to see just how much this 1984 crap has been jammed down our throats the past few years. In terms of “newspeak,” governments are now seriously talking about how men can get pregnant and how black people can be white supremacists, amongst other examples.
In terms of doublethink, I’ve lost count on how many articles I’ve read and government speeches I’ve heard that refer to Ukraine (and Israel, Belgium, et al) as a “democracy” or a nation that’s “fighting for freedom” when it is patently obvious that they are none of the above.
And, of course, the past has become mutable enough that you can get away with saying shit like the American Revolution of the 18th century was fought entirely to preserve the institution of slavery when, of course, it wasn’t.
The link above, by the way, goes to a rebuttal by one of the authors of that report and yet nobody cares about the fact that history was deliberately falsified to suit a modern agenda. All that matters is that the past can be “reinterpreted” (changed) any way you want to in order to buttress the concepts of newspeak and doublethink.
Therefore, it doesn’t really matter anymore if someone like me tells the truth because a) a large number of people now lack the vocabulary and terminology to even understand it, b) the ability to think critically has been systematically destroyed, and c) the past can be changed at any time to validate or invalidate a political goal in the present and support even the most ludicrous conclusions.
So where does that leave me?
Every day, we’re inching toward a future where I speak a (literally!) different language than the rest of the world does. On the surface, it seems like we’re all speaking English (or Romanian, etc), but we’re not because what I mean by certain words and phrases is no longer comprehensible to the majority of people reading it.
Secondly, even if I do present a truth about something, the increasing tendency of people to disregard what’s right in front of their own faces means that they just won’t “hear” it, even if there are eyewitnesses and documents and video to prove it’s true (the blowing up of the Nordstream gas pipelines in September 2022 is a good example of this).
Third, my entire world view is predicated upon a fixed and unchanging understanding of the past. But if the past gets rewritten every five minutes, then who will possibly be able to understand me? If everything is re-contextualized and reframed and nothing has any kind of permanent meaning, then any “truth” I speak is irrelevant because it will just get changed tomorrow.
At best, I’m just a harmless fool, spouting inanities. At worst, I’m a thought criminal, and I deserve to have my bank accounts frozen and to be deplatformed from social media and PayPal and Amazon and all the rest.
To be perfectly upfront, this is a huge deal, and not just for me. And to illustrate what I’m talking about, I’m going to give you a very real example from my own life.
In August of last year, during the hottest part of a long, dry summer, my wife and I rescued two kittens who had been abandoned by the side of the road. We think they are a brother and sister because they were found together, but they look nothing alike.
The boy, which we named Zorro (a story that deserves its own separate telling), was horribly dehydrated when we found him and quite malnourished. He also had some kind of skin condition and half his fur was missing. Frankly, he looked like a little skeleton, and I was worried that he might not even survive a single day.
Thankfully, however, with a nice place to live, a soft bed to sleep in, fun places to climb, and lots of good food and clean water and love, he quickly filled out, and his fur all came back. Within two weeks, he was a happy little kitten, running around our house doing kitten stuff.
All was fine until the end of December when I noticed that Zorro started having some “spells.” Sometimes, he’d be in bed with me, purring and cuddling, and then it was like his brain would switch off for a few seconds. He’d stop purring and would get a vacant look in his eyes, but after a couple of seconds, he’d be right back to normal.
Sadly, by the time January rolled around, he had escalated to having full-blown epileptic seizures. By the middle of January, he was having 4-5 seizures per day where he’d collapse and start having tremors, screaming in the most heartbreaking way after his brain “rebooted” and he regained control of his muscles.
Clearly, this was an awful and terrible progression of the disease. Twice, he fell from a height, and once was onto a hard surface, and it’s a minor miracle that he didn’t get injured. I personally caught him after he fell a few times, and it was scary as shit to see such a little cat suffer so much.
So, what do you think I did? Well, I ran to Google, of course. I read dozens of articles, probably written for the same reason as I wrote all mine (to make money) that just repeat what the “experts” say. Go ahead and Google “epilepsy in cats” and you’ll see what I mean.
According to the “experts,” here’s what the possible causes of Zorro’s epilepsy were:
- Old age
- Exposure to/ingestion of something toxic (poison)
- A head injury
- A super rare genetic disorder (called PSS) involving the liver
- Ideopathic (nobody knows what’s causing it)
Obviously, with Zorro being a kitten, old age was ruled out. And we have lots of other animals around, so we keep all the toxic chemical stuff locked up, and anyway, none of the other animals were affected. Therefore, poison wasn’t the problem.
Therefore, it could be either a head injury or the congenital defect to blame. Since Zorro had been abandoned, it was perfectly possible that he had been injured in the head before we got him. However, if it was a head injury, there’s really nothing anyone can do about it.
As for the congenital disorder, we’d need to find a vet with advanced scanning equipment and the ability to do the surgery to repair it, which isn’t really available anywhere in this part of the world. As far as I’m aware, only a few places in Britain and the USA have that capability.
So, based upon the “truth” of the Google articles (from very reputable websites, by the way), we were left to accept the brutal fact that Zorro might have a head injury or a congenital defect, or there might be no discoverable cause for his epilepsy, but getting treatment for him was either impossible or unavailable.
Therefore, the only “solution” for his steadily worsening epilepsy was to give Zorro a pill every day for the rest of his life to sedate him. And these pills taste horrible, so you have to either jam it down his throat with your fingers or hide it in a treat sufficiently tasty that he’ll swallow the pill alongside it.
Or, of course, we could watch him carefully and try to protect him for the short remaining weeks he had left until he either killed himself by falling from a height (and kittens really do love to jump and climb) or his brain would get fried and leave him unable to eat, and then he’d starve to death.
Needless to say, this was a pretty grim time for us. Seeing such a happy, vivacious kitten suffer from multiple epileptic attacks every day, and knowing there was nothing we could do except drug him (and even that doesn’t always work) was hurting my heart.
Today, I am happy to report, Zorro is completely healthy. His brain has fully healed, and he is a normal, playful little kitten with his whole life ahead of him, and he never took a single pill. So what happened?
Well, I ditched all those useless Google articles and started reading through the scientific literature. I also started reading veterinary textbooks. Believe it or not, I also found some great information from some snake breeding forums (places for people who raise snakes to discuss things).
I’ll save you the boring parts and tell you that what I discovered is that poor Zorro was suffering from a deficiency of Vitamin B1. Cats, of course, eat completely different diets than humans do, so none of this applies to humans.
In fact, let me just say this so it’s abundantly clear: I am not a medical or veterinarian expert or trained professional. DO NOT LISTEN TO ME about any medical or veterinarian advice. Go see a real doctor if you or your cat is sick. ARE WE CLEAR?
Snakes, and even a few breeds of fish, interestingly enough, are carnivorous in the same way cats are, and it turns out that some foods can block the uptake of Vitamin B1, which cannot be stored in a cat’s body and must be obtained from the diet.
Therefore, even though we were feeding him a diet rich in B1, the blockers were preventing him from getting enough. We switched his diet, and lo and behold, it was like waving a magic wand. He had just one seizure in the following 24 hours, and he’s been seizure free for almost two weeks, now.
It’s clear that he has had a complete recovery. His epilepsy is now 100% cured, and sometimes my eyes fill with tears when I see him playing because I am so grateful to have him restored to us.
The Zorro Principle
Zorro is not a “conspiracy theory” or some revelation about government misdeeds. He is a real, flesh and blood cat, so I’m gonna go ahead and coin a term called the “Zorro Principle.”
And the Zorro Principle says that there is an immutable, real truth out there and those who have the vocabulary and mental capacity to understand it live richer, fuller lives than the poor souls who are enmeshed in a world of illusions and delusions.
Because let’s think about what what would have happened if we had “followed the science” and listened to conventional advice about feline epilepsy and drugged our cat (with either Valium or Phenobarbital, ffs) for the next 15-20 years. Zorro would’ve still continued to suffer, and we’d be forced to dope him every single day and blunt his fun-loving and gregarious nature with pharmaceuticals.
On top of that, we’d be told that there is “nothing we can do” about his epilepsy except live with it. There’s probably even a Facebook group out there for people with epileptic cats, and we could trade stories on how best to manage his seizures.
But, in reality, we don’t need to join such a group because my cat is completely healthy now. He isn’t just better, he is fucking cured. We aren’t “managing” his illness because his illness no longer exists. He went from a cat having 4-5 grand mal seizures a day to a cat who has none.
Because the real truth is that he had a vitamin deficiency, and nutrition matters. And not just in cats, either. It’s insane to even acknowledge this, but there are kids in “wealthy” Britain right this fucking minute who are suffering from rickets for goodness’ sake, a disease that is caused by nothing more and nothing less than a deficiency of Vitamin D.
In the 1950s, there were no cases of pediatric rickets in Britain. None. And yet long before the “pandemic” hit, rickets was on the rise in the country. This is literally because of all the lies and misinformation in recent years about the definitions of “food” and “healthy play” for children.
Why anyone would continue to listen to the NHS or the NIH or doctors or “experts” about health when people (including children!) get sicker and sicker every year is beyond my capability to understand. I follow the Zorro Principle and live in a world where the truth matters, which is why my cat is healthy now.
In fact, aside from a few factual questions, most of the emails I get are people thanking me for telling the truth even when they disagree with me. And that’s astounding, if you think about it.
Me? I have no problem with different faiths, cultures, and belief systems. My best friend in America had polar opposite political views than I did, and we got along like gangbusters. That’s because we both believed that there was a singular truth out there and, through debate and free speech and open discussions, we could work our way toward it.
But these days? I might as well be labeled a blasphemer and hung on the gallows for practicing witchcraft. From a modernist, 1984 point of view, I truly am a heretic who “speaks in tongues” and “twists words” and engages in “thoughtcrime.”
I also believe in things that are unpopular or dangerous or “misinformation,” so damn right, I do not belong in this modern world. For instance, I’m one of just three people on the planet (that I know of) who knows (not thinks!) that viruses are good for people (and animals and plants, etc).
And, by the way, when I say “good,” I mean beneficial to the person (or animal) involved, not “good for promoting some weird ass eugenics slash genocidal fever dream about the myth of overpopulation” in the way that Queen Elizabeth’s husband defined it (and he’s hardly an outlier).
Hell, if I were a judge or a court or the “Safety Chief” at Twitter or someone important and influential, I’d hate and fear me, too. I represent something that is more dangerous than guns and nuclear weapons because I am an unrepentant sinner of the worst kind. I don’t just disavow the current religious doctrines but actively denounce them for being the sick, pathetic falsehoods that they are.
So, to answer my original question about where this leaves me and the future of this blog, the answer is: “hide and survive.”
Who knows? Maybe in a few years, this will all blow over. But in the meantime, you’ll find me living in a country that “doesn’t exist,” playing with my little cat, Zorro.
In the mean time, good luck and godspeed to you all.
3 thoughts on “Cognitive Shearing”
oh, look, Sam cel dus cu pluta încă trăiește, respiră și conspiră! Sam you’re right, you found us who are controlling this big conspiracy you live in. And yes, your hunch is true, the Earth is truly flat and unfortunately our Covid big lie made it more clear than ever! You should be proud that you’re so smart and brave. Good boy!!
Medicamenteeeee, medicamenteee pentru Sam! Sticle goale cu păr pentru Sam cel dus cu pluta!
Pour vivre heureux, vivons cachés.
I will miss you if you vanish în this country that doesn’t exist.
Be good, be well…but continue to write, whatever you do.
From snowy Cluj-Napoca!
See, I always knew you were a liar, nice of you to admit, nonetheless. I strongly suggest some treatment for your increasingly many delusions, including the one that you are somehow romanian.