The Delta Crusaders

I encountered my dentist yesterday at the grocery store, or I should say, my former dentist. I’ve not seen him for a year and a half. He requires everyone to wear a mask, which I find undignified. (I also pee standing up.) We chatted and for some reason he mentioned how awful the news is these days. Then he said “You don’t watch news, do you?” “No,” I said, “never.” I did tell him I knew about the flooding on the east coast, but whatever else has him all depressed I know nothing about. I know there is some psyop going on in Afghanistan, and that California is on fire. (California has a long history of fire suppression, so that when it burns, it burns big. And, of course, I would not put it past Climate Change fanatics to set fires.) Also, I saw on separate screens in the gym (different news outlets) this morning something about a lawyer in South Carolina who was murdered – that story also has a psyop feel about it.

I have noticed that mask wearing is on the rise, maybe half of those I saw yesterday at the store. And I know that would be attributable to what they are calling the “Delta Variant.” Jon Rappoport, always a go-to for me, writes today how there is no test that can distinguish between SARS-CoV-2 and Delta, and legally anyway laboratories are not allowed to report to you on Delta. (Link.) Jon has the same problem as we all do when he writes about this stuff: He has to enter the world of the surreal to get into the minds of ordinary people and government officials who believe in and who spin this nonsense. Jon knows that there is no SARS-CoV-2, so that the Delta Variant is another angel on the head of a pin.

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Darrell Ehrlick lectures us on masks and vaccines

Please note well: I should report at the beginning here that our writer Stephers, currently inundated in flood waters, has a much better and deeper view of Covid vaccines, leading one to suspect they are not in fact vaccines, but rather gene modifiers. Graphene oxide has been found in them, she writes and backs with evidence. Somehow 5 and 6G is a tie-in. I lack her abilities in that area. I urge you to read her posts to get a broader view.  Here I wrote about the vaccine as if it were a real vaccine, and by no means did I mean to sell her work short. I am a creature of habit.

I refer you to this post by Darrel Ehrlick, who was once the editor of the Billings Gazette, a longstanding Montana newspaper in what was once the state’s largest city. Travis Mateer, aka the poet William Skink, brought my attention to Ehrlick with this post, kind of a rant. I did my own rant in the comments. There I mentioned an interview I had heard, a comedian whose name I did not catch. As I posted,

[The comedian] talked about being in college, pre-med, when he realized he was funny and that comedy was his real calling. He wanted a degree, and so asked his advisor about what would be the quickest and easiest way out of college. He was advised to switch to journalism.

I then go on to refer to Dunning-Kruger, the study wherein it was determined that people of low intellectual ability are not capable of realizing their own intellectual shortcomings due to … low intellectual ability.

I have no doubt that Ehrlick’s office is  lined with diplomas and honors, maybe awards. As professions go, journalism is perhaps the least self-aware, and also one that hands out awards to one another like Halloween candy. It is also a very smug profession, and as we all know, smugness, while annoying, is also a defense mechanism used to hide deep insecurity. On some level, do journalists suspect they are frauds?

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Releasing . . . If Ida known better

The bottom of our street (photo taken September 2, 2021)

Hurricane Ida came through like a fast and furious wave — toppling me, yet reminding me to release and let go

I have been taking a much needed in-breath over the past few weeks — emptying my mind of swirling thoughts to just be and not be. I felt myself moving fluidly with life, despite perpetual challenges entering my reality. No need to go into any detail. We all experience curve balls from time to time.

But a sucker punch slammed me a couple days ago. As we had no warning, Hurricane Ida whipped through our house in a fury. Two tornadoes touched down within a mile of our home.

We are still standing. Our house is still standing. We have a roof above our house — fully intact (the last hurricane did not leave us as fortunate). Others we know have not been as lucky this go-around. Most of the surrounding streets have been submerged; cars have been swept away; and even one family had their cow swept away with the raging waters. 

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THE MUSICAL INDUSTRIAL COMPLEX — Part #3 (British Invaders WHO Are They Now?)

By Cranky Yanky

BLOGGER’S NOTE: I will no longer be including the occasional music criticism in my posts since I have realized that it only confuses the message. Besides, music is highly subjective, and opinions are like a**holes; everybody has one, and they all stink. So, moving forward, I intend to be like a restaurant critic who profiles the chef and kitchen staff but never mentions the food. If you still choose to $ample the menu after I have pointed out the unsanitary conditions, all I can say is Bon Appetit! 

Of course, “Who Are They Now?” is a play on the VH1 TV series “Where Are They Now?” But considering that most of the 60s British Invaders have either moved on to their next incarnation or are desperately clinging to their last shred of (ir)relevance, an exploration of their ancestral origins seems more logical. I did a lot of genealogical work for this post but fear not, dear reader, since most of these characters appear to have magically manifested into this realm out of thin air. When I do have family history information to share, I have attempted to make it as concise and painless as possible. So, let’s “meet the parents,” shall we?

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Montana passes law: Vaccination not a requirement for employment!

I wanna go home, I wanna go home
Oh, how I wanna go home. (Bobby Bare lyrics, Detroit City)

I spent the first 58 years of my life in Montana. It’s a very large state with very few people, and during my time there was run by rednecks. I didn’t understand until Covid the difference between Democrats and Republicans. It is as follows:

Democrats represent nice people who think of themselves as liberals. They believe in things like kindness and justice for all. Those elected to lead these people are liars and phonies, as liberalism, such as it is, is not allowed in real politics. Consequently, to be a Democratic leader, one must be a slut. Democratic leaders are forced to live lives of lies, pretending to be one thing to their followers, only being their real selves in private. Two of the worst human beings I ever met were the essential heads of the Montana Democratic Party, Max Baucus and Jon Tester. They both became senators and lied, lied, lied for decades. They make me wanna puke.

Republicans represent people who think of themselves as “conservative,” though the word is stripped of essential meaning by politics. (It means to exercise caution, to be careful, not to make radical changes, to preserve things that work. I’m a conservative in that sense.) But Republican leaders and followers are often on the same page, believing in the same ideas, falling for the same lies. Ergo, Republican leaders have the ability to lead without lying about their true beliefs. They tend to be nicer people than Democratic leaders, who are required to be sluts. Two of their leaders I knew were Ron Marlinee (1935-2020) and Conrad Burns (1935-2016). They lied. They were politicians, but I repeat myself. But they seemed like likeable men who could both give and take jokes.

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King vs. Riggs, 1973: The Battle of the Sexes

I spent part of my day yesterday listening to Marc Maron interview Billie Jean King. It’s a good interview, Maron doing great work these days on his podcast. He keeps it going and does his homework.

Because this event, The Battle of the Sexes, happened 48 years ago, I don’t imagine many readers are familiar with King, so a little background. I will quote directly from Wikipedia, as I do not imagine they have any reason to lie about her accomplishments.

King’s Open in 1972 made her only the fifth woman in tennis history to win the singles titles at all four Grand Slam events, a “career Grand Slam”.[a] She also won a career Grand Slam in mixed doubles. In women’s doubles, only the Australian Open eluded her.

King won a record 20 career titles at Wimbledon – six in singles, 10 in women’s doubles, and four in mixed doubles.[b]

King played 51 Grand Slam singles events from 1959 through 1983, reaching at least the semi-finals in 27 and at least the quarterfinals in 40 of her attempts. King was the runner-up in six Grand Slam singles events. An indicator of her mental toughness in Grand Slam singles tournaments was her 11–2 career record in deuce third sets, i.e., third sets that were tied 5–5 before being resolved.[citation needed]

King won 129 singles titles,[21] 78 of which were WTA titles, and her career prize money totaled US$1,966,487.[22]

In Federation Cup finals, she was on the winning United States team seven times, in 1963, 1966, 1967, and 1976 through 1979. Her career win–loss record was 52–4.[c] She won the last 30 matches she played,[d] including 15 straight wins in both singles and doubles.[23] In Wightman Cup competition, her career win–loss record was 22–4,[e] winning her last nine matches.[f] The United States won the cup ten of the 11 years that she participated. In singles, King was 6–1 against Ann Haydon-Jones, 4–0 against Virginia Wade, and 1–1 against Christine Truman Janes.[24]

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The palace of misdirection

My purpose in writing this is to link to Jon Rappoport, who today is republishing an article called Smoking Gun: Fauci states COVID PCR test gas fatal flaw; confession from the “beloved” expert of experts.

This is important information, but I think that Rappoport is missing a critical element. Anthony Fauci has stated, as cited by Jon,

“…If you get [perform the test at] a cycle threshold of 35 or more…the chances of it being replication-competent [aka accurate] are miniscule…you almost never can culture virus [detect a true positive result] from a 37 threshold cycle…even 36…”

Fauci is not lying here. He is misdirecting. He’s admitting here that replication cycles in excess of 35 using the PCR machine destroy the credibility of the results.*** He’s leaving out some critical words: “for its intended purpose.” The PCR machine test is an amazing tool process that can be used to compare strands of DNA and RNA, and tell us if the strands match or not. That’s the limit of its usefulness, but it has dramatically changed our lives, opened wide the field of law enforcement, and many others. It is the basis for “DNA evidence” that is now so widespread and talked about everywhere. This amazing invention can find one grain of sand from all the sand on all of the California beaches.
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Polio … a rose by any other name

You’d never guess I was once a CPA, as my storage system is chaos. But then, maybe I just wasn’t a very good CPA. I have a stack of papers on the bottom shelf of my bookcase, crawling with 3M flags, and in no order. I come across something and think “Hmm, I want to hang on to that,” and then forget about it. Yesterday I was asked for information on Covid, and before deciding not to provide anything to someone who can look and discover for his or herself, I went through the stack. In so doing I came across a list of 57 points of information concerning poliomyelitis. In looking for this list on the Internet, I found that it was compiled by Forest Maready, and that it does not exist in the form I have it, but rather now exists as 36 points, the last 21 absent, on a Twitter feed. I have tried but cannot find a way to move the last 21 points from paper to screen in readable form. Maybe it does not matter.

Maready is a prolific author, his first and maybe most important book called The Moth in the Iron Lung. That title will be self-explanatory when I am done, and perhaps even obvious to many readers. But first, I want to present a graph:

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Hacks

Hannah Einbender

“One of my favorite episodes of this podcast is the one that you did with Judd Apatow. It felt like something that I as a young comic needed to hear.  I know for a fact that it helped me. I am like … we … climate change it’s here, the world is ending, like what is the fucking why? Why hide? Why not just tell the truth? We are propelling so rapidly towards the Big D, and that is death. So why not just share your experience and your truth?” (Hannah Einbender, speaking on Conan O’Brien Needs a Friend podcast August 22, 2021)

Ms. Einbender is one of the stars of a show called Hacks, seen on HBOMAX. I’ve not yet seen an episode but may do so now. Those who know me understand that I regard Climate Change as a gigantic hoax that runs alongside Covid as part of the efforts of certain ruling elements to limit human freedom and imprison us, both in mind and body in an unrelenting state of fear. Her comment to Conan O’Brien on this podcast made me stop it in its tracks, and get her statement down in writing.

I am not writing this to belittle Einbender, or to set her straight. She is only 26 years old, and will have, God willing, decades of life ahead of her so that she might look back and see her current dystopian attitude as part of a lifelong learning process.

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Ian and Sylvia, Karen and Richard

This is going to be a meandering piece, and I only know generally where it is going. I do know it ends with Karen Carpenter, so if you do not care for her music, I urge you, GET OUT NOW!

My music preferences have shifted dramatically over my life. When a kid, I liked the Beatles and 60s rock and roll, of course, though I now avoid anything remotely Beatle. The music of that period was a contrived force, the product of pretenders, performed, for the most part, by the Wrecking Crew (or a British equivalent).

I used to do a Public Access TV interview show in Billings, Montana, in the early 1990s called Piece of Mind. That’s why I named the blog as I did. Also, though I did not save anything from my school years, I oddly have an essay I wrote, eighth grade or so. It was not very good of course, not well thought out or directed. At the end I wrote that all I wanted was “peace of mind.” I had an unquiet mind, even then, I guess.

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