The Claim Cabin

“My father had a mining claim out on BLM land. He and his partner built a cabin, a shack really, with old grayed, worn boards. It was no bigger than our shed there. It was disguised in brush in the South Desert [Utah] near Delta. You could walk right bye it and not see it. It was no eye sore. There was a little wood stove to keep warm and a mattress tilted up on its side foe staying over. It was hard working a mining claim without shelter, and the cabin was convenient. We would have some picnics out there. They built a picnic table out front. Nothing on the outside was brought in but the wood stove, everything was salvaged from the surroundings. Nothing was cut down or killed. We always took out trash with us.

We left canned goods and a note to use whatever was needed and please leave something for the next person. People did, and it worked, a nice place to work and relax on public land for us, our friends and people we didn’t even know. It was up for years, ten, fifteen maybe? Then, we returned and found a notice from the BLM [Federal Land Management Tyrants] that the cabin would be burned in 60 days, and we had that long to remove our goods.

Well, we were Down Winders [1], knew there was no fighting the Government, so we brought off the food. It was a shame really. But that is the Government. And that was then, when we were young, decades ago. Imagine what the Government gets away with now!

-Deb, a Mormon matriarch, Kamas, Utah, 7/29/24, as she considered her neat blue shed, that had reminded her of her father’s old mining claim shack

…

Above is a western perspective. People here in the east, who I told this story to, even an outdoorsman who has been out west, assured me, against all logic implicit in the lineal growth ethics of Modernity, that surely, laws have been cleaned up, that the Feds would not be so heavy handed today. The fact is that western people have very much more interaction with USG than do the people who live in the seat of USG power, beneath the grinning mirror towers in the east. Out west, USG land is everywhere and its agents patrol. One sees Feds more than local cops in many remote places.

The story of the shack above is at root a tale about the instinctive collective DRIVE, the inner emotion, to control that infects USG functionaries and any member of a large scale police apparatus. Control is not, as most of us believe, for our own good, for the greater good, misguided good will, an expression of hate, or for a higher purpose. No, most control has but one logic: CONTROL. The means of control is the ends; the healing balm of dominance momentarily experienced by the soul-eaten slave of a mind control system, who has been robbed of his own soul, which has been devoured, and shares now at the meager feast of the spirit dumb, infected with the mania to harrow the uninfected, to feast in its twisted turn upon some juicy human light yet to by snuffed out as its own gone soul once was.

…

Compliance & Defiance

Defiance is the portion of heroes.

Such heroes are slain.

If a defiant soul takes the hero path and is not willing to be killed, alone, while family, friends and colleagues denouncing his lifeless form, be warned. For standing against the Evil Over Mind, its millions strong legions of news beasts, influencers, gaslight priests and law goons, and the mega horde of NPCs that swarm to feast upon the not yet extinct INDIVIDUAL [a pariah on left and right], one will be terminated and defamed or turned and enchained. To be colonized: bitten by the zombie or vampire, is the fate of the dissenter of half measure.

I have no stake in this world, and write for a few readers not yet born. I am content… other than the 30 jabbering monkey books upon my harrowed back. This process will hopefully result in some good advice or inner escape for at least one little fellow not yet among us.

In the meantime, I note most of the people I know buying big lies. That is okay. It is less painful for them. If I try and wake them from their sold state of mind I will not only upset all of them and convert none to my painful view of the world as a field of sorrow. But some of these people will be forced by my ranting to denounce, defame and ostracize, perhaps becoming fanatics that will persecute unnamed others of my disturbed turn of mind. I would rather slink along and perhaps meet others of a common view, rather then become the odd turnip embittering the delusional stew.

Critical thought was the greatest lie we were ever told, that it is a normal human function of the human mind to question the assertions of our betters, to test the Holy Writ of Sciencelaw. For almost all humans I have met, to even approach the precipice of critical thinking is to flirt with madness, insanity, terminal depression and fanatical hysterical, HATE. It is my suspicion that critical thinking as doctrine, taught in the waning days of traditional religious faith, and since utterly abolished from public life despite some pretenses, was bait. This bait, in the form of an implanted urge to discuss good and bad and right and wrong in common cause, was merely a lure, for the brighter minded, more creative and least duplicitous among you to “speak truth to power” and other such insane notions. The critical thinker is merely a heretic who has been implanted with the socially suicidal urge to CONFESS to his SINS!

The confessional is all around you, at billions of portals, wall mounted, hand held, on the wrist and eventually on the chip in your brain. I have friends who cannot wait for their chip from Eloi Mush.

Beware Your Confessor.

He is the leash of the beast used to drag you before MASTER, the fetters of adamant that enchained Prometheus.

There is an alternative to being burned or turned. We have more than the TWO polar choices that our masters have always pronounced lay before us. Each of us can, if we want to, chart a course less than martyr and more than zombie. Most will not. Humans were born and bread to slavery and yearn mostly for a better master. For those of us who are defective in lacking this urge to be owned, branded, scolded and herded, there is no need getting trampled trying to warn your idiot fellows what awaits, for they yearn for servitude.

Enjoy the show, which in this world, often closes with Snow.

…

Notes

-1. Poisoned by radiation from USG nuclear tests in the 1940s and 50s.