Ever since the hamfisted and blunderingly obvious theft of the 2020 Presidential Election, some of the more bombastic and hyperbolic patriots have been blowing off steam, shooting off their mouths and talking stupid $hit on social media about "altering and abolishing," in the spirit of the American Revolution.
While Patriots' reverence for God-given life has, of course, prevented any actual violence (except by BLM and Antifa), c'mon, folks. Really!?! Your hyperbole set it up on a tee and Nancy Pelosi and Antifa knocked it outta the park...committing actual violence on January 6th they then projected onto Peaceful Patriots (who tried to stop them from behaving violently!).
Both big-mouthed Patriots and Pelosi erred by assuming that violence is the whole kit-and-kaboodle of our Founding Fathers' legacy. Perhaps that's because all we really know about them is the Declaration of Independence and the American Revolution.
Oh! We couldn't be more wrong!
Recently, my research into the pre-Declaration of Independence era of American history has impressed upon me the incredible peacefulness, patience, diplomacy, long-suffering and arms-only-as-a-last-resort ethics of our Founding Fathers.
By not taking up arms anywhere against anyone, Patriots and President Trump are following in the Founding Fathers' footsteps. Just like them, we are restoring these United States of America from the ground up just as our Founding Fathers built her in the 1700s: person by person, heart by heart, soul by soul, legislature by legislature, state by state. From dog-catcher to Senator, America is being slowly and steadily re-instilled with the MAGA spirit of our Founding Fathers.
If this is The Plan, and I believe it is, then our Founding Fathers are looking down from Heaven and smiling.
If I had a quarter for every time my grandparents said, "Well, they say...," I'd be a rich woman today.
And whatever "They Said," my grandparents religiously did. They were injected, examined, smeared, x-rayed, operated on, treated and medicated. If "They Said," my grandparents jumped and asked, "How high?" on the way up.
They lived their entire lives under the Tyranny of They and happily never knew it. Never questioned it. Never asked why. Never asked, "Who says!?!" bless their woolly little hearts.
It never even occurred to them that the injections might be poison, that a gynecologist could be a creep, that all those old-fashioned blast away x-rays to look for cancer might actually cause cancer and that the public schools were brainwashing their children.
They lived through the most pivotal moments of 20th Century, from the sinking of Titanic when Great-Grandma was 12-years-old to the assassination of President Kennedy, and rarely mentioned any historical events.
Oh yes, they were perfect little sheep but, oddly enough, they had very nice lives. They were fairly healthy. Faithfully paid their taxes but still had more money than they ever frugally admitted. Had the expected 2.375 children and died happy after many blessed decades of life, blissfully oblivious to their sheephood.
In my more sentimental moments, I kinda' envy them. When you're exhausted as I am today, this red-pilled life is a burden.
It makes one yearn for the simple good ol' days...that never existed anywhere but in our imaginations. Now that it's our turn to actually live history, it's not nearly as glorious as one imagines.
As George C. Scott says in Patton, "The world grew up. Helluva shame."
The Elite. The Bilderbergers. The New World Order. The Great Culling. Agenda 2030. Roll it all together and whaddya get?
Some pretty pissed off Americans...and patriots everywhere!
As Digital Freedom Fighters like Victor Laszlo in Casablanca, our fight to constantly rip the mask off, or even better, anticipate the NWO's devilish plots is exhausting. So often on social media I read Great Patriots posting, "Gonna take a break from Telegram" or "Binge watching Bering Sea Gold. Back tomorrow" (totally addictive show!) because both being red-pilled and red-pilling others can drain the vim and vinegar right out of you.
When I'm sick of it all (or when Michael won't shut up about it all!), I cope by taking an imaginary vacation in my imaginary flat in my favorite city: Paris. Oh, not the Paris of lockdowns and beheadings and Yellow Vests and Macron, but the perfect Paris of my imagination. The Paris of Rick and Ilsa. You'd be surprised how an imaginary stroll down the Champs-Elysées munching on an imaginary baguette or sipping imaginary Bollinger in a café will relax you. "Here's lookin' at you, Kid."
What I've learned through watching a lot of YouTubes and food travel shows set in Paris is twofold. First, we are amazingly blessed right here in the good ol' US of A. Second, we little people have been engaged in this fight against the Elite for well over a century (longer!)...and we're winning. That's right, Patriots: winning.
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