Every time you think you've seen everything during the three (previously) peaceful weeks of Canada's Freedom Convoy, something even more bizarre happens.
Today we witnessed the worst of Tyrant Trudeau and his Gestapo when the Royal Canadian Mounted Police plunged into the crowd with their steeds, trampling a woman to death [UPDATE 2-19-2022: She may not have died however I thought I saw a horse's hoof land on her torso.] as well as reportedly killing a man who livestreamer, Zoke, says perished after a horse trod on his head. (Not confirmed. Media silence.)
Meanwhile, the Lovers of Freedom continued to make Tamara Lich proud by remaining unarmed and peaceful. Righteously angry and jolly loud...but still peaceful.
In twelve hours of livestream watching, I never saw a fist raised nor a patriot touch a cop in any way. The patriots even admonished each other not to use the "F" word at the police.
At the other end of the emotional spectrum after the RCMP committed murder were the musicians who whipped out guitar, banjo and fiddle for a rousing if rather tone-deaf rendition of, "Rock me mama like a wagon wheel, Rock me mama any way you feel, Hey, hey, mama rock me" as a cops slowly closed in and semi after semi was towed away.
If Trudeau had only validated that the government's power is derived from the consent of the governed and met with the organizers, Tamara would've insisted the trucks leave under their own steam and expense and Ottawa be left spotless. Instead, Mr. and Mrs. Taxpayer are footing a whopping great tow bill and the Legacy Media will undoubtedly claim the convoy trashed Ottawa when actually it was trashed when they arrived and cleaned it up!
But perhaps the only funny moment in a very unfunny day was when Rohan of the WarCampaign livestream faced the police and wailed in his fake-ass Indian accent, "Plllllease don't tase me, brrrrrro. I'm holding the line and my pee. I'm caught in a mosh pit forrrrrr frrrrrredom."
What Do You See?
In 1995, while my family was suddenly suffering massive and to-this-day inexplicable upheaval, my father became convinced that I was obsessed with demons. Perhaps needing a scapegoat at the moment, he devised a treatment to break me of my supposed obsession by forcing me to look at graphic photos of...what else?...the Holocaust. He reasoned (?) that forcing me to observe Evil would cure me of Evil.
Instead, like Diane von Furstenberg's mother, I came away from the "treatment" not with an impression of Evil but with awe for the strength and resilience of the Jewish people and the ultimate triumph of Good (the Allies) over Evil (the Nazis) in Auschwitz, Bergen-Belsen, Scheveningen, etc.
Yes, there was horrific Evil and millions of deaths but somehow in the midst of that evil, great goodness bubbled to the surface. I was in awe of the strength of Jews who went knowingly to their deaths not screaming nor panicking but rather singing Kaddish for themselves and each other.
I was blown away by the kindness of prisoners to each other. The bizarre looking-the-other-way of some of the guards. The miracles. The unfathomable paperwork errors and inexplicable releases of prisoners like Corrie ten Boom. The subtle resistance work of Concentration Camp inmates who purposely assembled radios incorrectly so Nazi pilots would lose communication. The list goes on and on.
Today, humanity finds themselves on the cusp (or in the midst!) of yet another Holocaust. A much more genteel, finessed, high tech Holocaust of flawed tests and fake statistics, of pointless lockdowns and invasive police, of viruses and injections posing as vaccines, of bankruptcies and court cases, of vaccine passports and fabric symbols of compliance (masks).
This is great Evil.
But just as in the 1940s Holocaust, in the midst of great Evil, great Good can, has, is and will emerge. It must. That's how the world was designed to work.
Click here to learn more about Lenora Thompson: wife, caregiver, writer, patriot.
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