Consider the Source

"Relax, my drug dealer said this heroin is safe," and other asinine claims no sane person ever made.

Imagine if you will the following ridiculous fictitious exchange:

Friend: Hey, did you hear Tony Soprano has a new anti-aging skincare line? You just slap some cream on your face and—boom—you literally never get older. I ordered mine today!

You: Tony Soprano, the TV character?

Friend: Yup.

You: You know that’s not a real person, right? Do you mean the actor James Gandolfini? Because if so, he’s dead. I’m confused.

Friend: I don’t know who that dead guy is, but Tony Soprano says his anti-aging potion is miraculous. Why wouldn’t I believe him? He’s on TV! What are you, some sort of Sopranos-denier?

You: When you say you literally never get older after you apply it, is that by any chance because you die?

Friend: Dolly Parton, Hugh Jackman, and Madonna all use it. Do they look dead to you?

You: Actually, Madonna does seem to be rocking a Weekend at Bernie’s vibe these days.

Seriously, WTH happened to her?

Friend: You’re obviously some sort of conspiracy theorist. Fine, don’t buy it. That means there’ll be more for the rest of us.  

You: Wow, okay, I can see you’re clearly sold on this stuff. But you do realize that Tony Soprano-the-character is literally a criminal? Like, that’s his actual day job—organizing and executing extortion, racketeering, money laundering, drug trafficking, and—what was that other one? oh yeah—murder? Do you feel like that’s a solid person to be purchasing beauty products from?

Friend: Everyone breaks the rules in business. That’s just how the world works. You’re so judgmental. Tony Soprano is literally out there trying to help people stay young!

You: Oh, so he’s giving this magic balm away for free out of the goodness of his fictional, not-dead TV heart?

Friend: Well, no. Of course not. Tony Soprano has bills to pay like the rest of us.

You: Actually, he doesn’t because he’s not real and the actor who plays him is sadly deceased.

Friend: Wow, I didn’t know you were a racist.

You [SYH]: How is that rac—

Friend: You don’t think people should be rewarded for ingenuity? I guess you’re a communist, too. Frankly, I’m disappointed in you. Forsake Tony Soprano’s wonderful, safe-and-effective, supernatural anti-aging elixir, see if I care! But don’t come crying to me when you’re all old and decrepit and wishing you’d listened to me because I will have exactly zero sympathy for you.

You [to yourself]: I hope they at least have Wi-Fi in your padded cell, pal.

There is really no end to the string of absurd analogies I could engineer to illustrate how illogical and insane it is to trust Pharma at this point: The rickety roller coaster is safe because the toothless, tripping carnie who put it together that morning gets paid to say it is. The weight loss pill works because the faceless company peddling it on Amazon posted some photos of a naturally lean thirteen-year-old girl (who’s never popped a single weight loss pill in her young life, incidentally) in the listing. The weed can’t be laced with fentanyl because your drug dealer insists he grew and packaged it himself. The media can’t be compromised or we’d have heard about it on the news.

And yet. People don’t just keep buying the vaccine hype—they’ve internalized it. They regurgitate it. They vomit it all over social media and in some cases, they even host online seminars hoping to teach other people how to promulgate the very same propaganda. (I wish I were making that last part up.)

As much as I want to violently shake gently jiggle some sense into every last Covidian, I also feel a little bit sorry for them. After all, it’s not the wheelbarrow’s fault it’s not the sharpest tool in the shed. And in the jab-lovers’ collective defense, Pharma’s got the most powerful publicist on the planet: the entire global media syndicate.

It hasn’t been just the major networks pumping out the bogus safe-and-effective narrative; even popular women’s magazines known for hard-hitting journalistic masterpieces like “The 13 Best Hookup Apps for When You Don’t Want Anything Serious” have gotten into the game, in some cases shaming celebrities for not using their massive platforms to push the jabs hard enough—or at all.

How selfish. (I’m looking at you, Gwyneth Paltrow.)

From the always on fleek Urban Dictionary.

Consider (if you can without losing your lunch) this nauseating quote from Glamour.com:

“Today celebrities should be working harder to promote the COVID-19 vaccine. This isn't an attack on celebs—bless them! We love them for their shiny hair and expressive faces and commitment to showing us every possible outcome of getting back together with your ex. But the least they could do is set aside some time to promote the lifesaving, free vaccine that's been made available to all Americans as the national death toll from COVID continues to rise past 600,000. Celebrities who got the vaccine have an obligation to talk about it to their giant fanbases.” 

~Sad, brainwashed, probably quadruple-poked Glamour staffer

The White House didn’t just admit to but bragged about paying influencers to promote the jabs, and I’m certainly not the first to suggest following the money if you want to find the driving force behind the relentless vaccine push. But something I’ve been saying since somewhere around day two of this ridiculously transparent scamdemic is this: Who do you suppose is more trustworthy: massive, money-hungry, corporate career criminals like Pfizer with everything to gain, or brave doctors, scientists, and human rights advocates like Pierre Kory, Mike Yeadon, Peter McCullough, Robert Kennedy Jr., Ben Tapper, Zev Zelenko, Ryan Cole, Robert Malone, and dozens of others who had everything to lose?

How do you explain the latter’s willingness to risk their lives, livelihoods, and professional reputations to try to preserve the freedom and health of millions of strangers? And what incentive do the pharmaceutical companies have to be forthright about their products’ possible (now proven) side-effects?

It's actually preposterous when you think about it.

The problem is, how do we get the loyal Pharma followers to actually think about it? Open to your best suggestions, fam. And thanks as always for reading and commenting.

Didn’t get what you really wanted for Christmas?

Pick yourself up a copy of The War on Ivermectin. Seriously, you deserve it.

Available on Amazon and anywhere else kickass books are sold.