AMERICA: The Blog
AMERICA: The Blog
In the Good Ol' Days, it took really big things to divide-and-conquer. Religion. Race. Territory. Greed. Honour.
Now, all it takes is a 5" strip of fabric.
Saul Alinsky must be so proud.
Science...Sold to the Highest Bidder
There are the maskers and the anti-maskers and never the twain shall meet. Both sides of the argument cite science but the older I get, the more clear it becomes that so-called science, like so-called COVID-19 statistics, will "prove" whatever the sponsor of the study wants it to prove. Numbers can be inflated because people have agendas.
Now I was raised by germaphobes. I once bragged, "I can follow a germ from here to the Great Wall of China" so it wasn't long into the COVID-19 scare before I realized the futility of trying to eradicate every possible virus molecule from our lives.
It's impossible. What about the mail? What about the surfaces of toilet paper and tissues? What about...the list of ways to become infected will drive you batcrap crazy which may be exactly what They want. Anxiety, stress and fear all decimate your immune system.
The death knell to my mask wearing was when Michael joked, "Thinking a mask will stop a virus is like thinking jeans will stop a fart." After I peeled myself up off the floor where I was ROTFLMAO, I threw my mask away.
So if masks have nothing to do with the virus, what are they really about? Why do Dr. Fauci, Jim Acosta and the other mask-pushers remove their masks whenever they think the cameras aren't looking?
The Costume of Compliance
With due respect to the ill and elderly, I see masks as a symbol. Nothing more, nothing less. The symbol that "I will comply with whatever They tell me to do. I will relinquish my freedoms for a piecrust promise of safety."
Been there...for 31 years.
Done that...for 31 years.
You get neither freedom nor safety with such a bargain.
In V for Vendetta, everyone in London receives the Anonymous mask (pictured above) so they can stand together in solidarity against the tyranny of the NWO government that has taken over Parliament.
Our masks are the opposite. As masked (and unmasked) rioters burn, loot and kill in the name of socialism or equality or goodness knows what, all the good people are mandated to wear masks to blend in and camouflage the bad people.
Well, I won't be one of them.
Division, Distancing, Distraction
But it's not just about division and distancing, it's also about distraction. About getting pissed off at each other about trifles like whether or not we're wearing a 5" strip of fabric across our face to distract us from the balls we need to keep our eyes on: Antifa, the election, vote harvesting, the shenanigans of The Swamp and The Squad, Nancy Pelosi, Joe Biden, Kamala the Kondescending, freedom, America, God.
The bottle blonde who decided to engage in battle of the wills with me last week is a classic example of division and distraction.
I wanted to shop. She wanted to flex her muscles and control.
She started yelling about masks the moment I stepped into the store. I replied with a polite "I'm fine" and commenced shopping.
Now if she'd really been worried about the virus, she wouldn't have come within six feet of me (though sneeze droplets travel far further.)
Instead, she not only violated that ridiculous social distancing, she violated my personal space as well. She was right on top of me!
Now, my mama always told me to ignore bullies and it usually works like a charm. But this tall, thin, young fake blonde wouldn't take the hint. After all, she had two other clerks to impress by dominating this middle-aged, plus size, bookish, bespectacled Hobbit.
She didn't reckon on one thing. I've been pissed with, dominated and controlled my entire life. I may look like Rosie Cotton but I'll be damned if I submit for one more second! It's like Gandalf said, "Hobbits really are amazing creatures. You can learn all that there is to know about their ways in a month and yet, after a hundred years, they can still surprise you."
I looked her in the eye and said, "I said 'I'm fine'," in my very best, step-mother-of-three, I-don't-take-shit voice.
She wandered away while continuing to loudly harass me. "If you'd just said your doctor...there's a monetary fine...entitled." Now that's a word I've never been called before.
Freedom isn't an entitlement. I have a God-given right to a bare face, fresh air and choices.
Put Your Money Where your Mask Isn't
As unpleasant as that experience was, it feels damned good to not just write about freedom, but to do something about it. To act on the courage of my convictions. To suffer, a tiny bit, for what I believe in. To prove myself to myself and my readers.
I made just one mistake: I bought something for Michael at that store. I should've walked out empty-handed.
Here's my challenge to myself and all of us: Boycott stores, such as Menards, that require masks disregarding personal freedom and medical problems, including those incurred by our brave soldiers who were injured while serving and defending Menards' freedom to be the little tyrants they've become. They hate kids too!
Their policies are unAmerican so let's starve them financially out of existence to make way for good retailers who support President Trump and welcome children, veterans and the maskless. Stores like Home Depot.
Whether you choose to mask or unmask is, of course, entirely your personal choice. We all have our own reasons and logic.
But ask yourself this: What are my motivations for masking? Am I just trying to avoid a supremely survivable virus? Or am I afraid to stand up for my rights? Of conflict?
My decision to unmask had nothing to do with a silly 5" strip of fabric. That was merely the litmus test for my courage. If I flunked standing up to our Orwellian Governor Walz about something as minuscule as a mask, I'd flunk every test to stand up for my freedom.
Next test: Voting without a mask...because in Minnesota, regardless of a doctor's note or not, you can only vote curbside without a mask...so they'll know which ones to shred!
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Wife, caregiver, writer, patriot. Click here to learn more about me, my husband Michael and his courageous battle against terminal lung disease.
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