I do not write these words for my contemporaries. We are the damned. It is our lot now to watch as the lamp of liberty is extinguished, our burden to bear witness to the final flickering of the flame of freedom.
No, I don’t write these words for my peers; I write them for those yet to come. The inhabitants of that future dystopia whose birth pangs we are experiencing. The remnant of once-free humanity who might—through some miracle I can’t even imagine—come across this electronic message in a bottle.
I know that it’s almost hopeless. That the chance of these words surviving the coming internet purge are slim at best. That even if—against all odds—this message does wash up on your digital shores, that the chance of these words being understood by you is even slimmer. Not because you don’t understand English, but because you no longer use these words I’m writing: Freedom. Humanity. Individual.
Still, I am here to record the end of an era. So I will press on in the hope against hope that someone, somewhere in that future Digital Dark Age will have eyes to see and ears to hear.
We know what it means when 17 million Americans—a full 10% of the workforce—are added to the unemployment rolls in a mere three weeks. When they are joined by millions more newly unemployed ex-workers all around the globe. When modern-day bread lines stretch for miles in the heart of America’s once-proud cities. When the phony baloney fiat funny money debt rises over $24 trillion and the Fed’s Sovietization of the economy is complete.
We know what it means when police start shooting people dead for not wearing a mask. When drones police quarantines from the sky and robots police lockdowns on the ground. When governments admit to tracking every movement of every citizen and begin internal checkpoints where digital immunity passports determine who may pass and who must stay in their home.
We know what it means when billionaires start telling us that only their new experimental mRNA vaccines will be able to release us from this nightmare. When they threaten to mark us with invisible ink tattoos to ID the vaccinated. When they tell us that we will not be able to buy or sell or participate in the economy until we can prove our “immunity”.
Oh, sure, some still deny it. But they are only fooling themselves. They’re afraid to admit that it’s true. Many are still under the old conditioning that told them to bleat “conspiracy theorist” at anyone questioning authority.
We have a name for that kind: “sheep.” Or, sometimes, “sheeple.” The masses in our day are kept in the pen by the jackbooted sheepdogs of the police state and led along by the political puppets who act as their shepherds. Occasionally a wise old-timer in the flock cottons on to the game, but the shepherd has only ever fleeced the flock before, so he resigns himself to his fate. Why struggle? It’s mostly painless.
It is a term of derision, of course. “Sheeple.” But I like to think that it doesn’t just speak to our stupidity. It speaks to a naivety, an innocence. We are trusting and gentle creatures by nature. Peaceable. Cooperative. That is nothing to be scorned. If it weren’t for the predators in our midst, our failings could even be counted as virtues.
You are not cogs in a machine, despite what the shepherds of your day may be telling you. You are free and beautiful human beings. You are not born under the authority of another. You choose how you live your life, not some bureaucrat, not some police robot, not some “immunity checkpoint” algorithm or QR code.
You do not need permission to buy or to sell or to assemble or to speak your mind or to leave your house. You are not an “asymptomatic carrier” of whatever virus your misleaders are telling you to be afraid of. You do not have to shelter in place because someone in a white lab coat told you to.
I want you to understand that, once upon a time, the government didn’t have the right to know where you were, who you were meeting with, what you were buying and what you were doing 24/7. Hell, the government didn’t even have the ability to do that.
I need you to know that there was a time when you could leave your house when you wanted. Travel where you wanted. Buy and sell as you saw fit. Meet your neighbors. Rally. Protest. Party.
Oh, what am I saying? These words. This language. It makes no sense to you anymore, does it? These concepts don’t exist in your time, do they?
You go where you are told to go. You stay home when you are told to stay home. You shut up when you are told to shut up. You think what you are told to think.
I don’t know if history is something you study anymore, but UK Foreign Secretary “Sir” Edward Grey made his observation about the lamps “going out all over Europe” at the end of the so-called “Twelve Days,” the period during the summer of 1914 in which the mainstream history books tell us that the British government was trying to avoid a World War. We are asked to believe that this prescient remark proved Grey to be a sage diplomat, wracked with grief over the pain and suffering that was about to be unleashed upon the world.
But this is history-by-the-winners of the worst kind. In truth, Grey was himself one of the conspirators that was actively working to bring the First World War about. What’s more, the source of this quotation is in fact Grey himself; it was first recorded in Grey’s own post-war memoir. Any tears shed by Grey over the extinguishing of those lamps were crocodile tears, to be sure.
One can well imagine that we will be told some years hence that Bill Gates made a similarly portentous remark at the onset of this corona crisis. Gazing out the window of his $147.5 million dollar, 66,000 square foot “Xanada 2.0” mansion at the then-epicenter of the US outbreak in Washington State, Gates’ post-coronavirus memoir will no doubt tell us that he remarked to an underling that “The lights are going out all across the globe, we shall not see them lit again in our lifetime.”
To my children, or my children’s children, or whatever remnant of once-free humanity happens to unearth these words in that God-forsaken future we are goose-stepping into: I’m sorry. I failed you. We all failed you.
But remember this: As long as the blood of your forebears flow through your veins, the lamp of human freedom shall not be extinguished forever.