Making Madness Make Sense

Long before I was banned from Instagram and when my Facebook posts still showed up in peoples’ feeds, things weren't adding up.

Twenty-five months and a whole lot of waking-up later, I have a new take.

This is from a post I wrote more than two years ago:

If I’ve overused any single hashtag during the purgatory that has been this pandemic, it’s #MakeItMakeSense. Because in case anyone hasn’t noticed, it doesn’t.

None of it.

It started with the mask madness. “There’s no reason to wear them,” felonious Fauci declared. Then it was masks might work … but people are dumb and we wouldn’t know how to use them properly so we’d wind up fiddling with them and introducing germs into the very orifices we were trying to protect, ergo we certainly should not wear them. Then they probably definitely did work, but only the surgical N95 kind and those needed to be saved for frontline workers, so some of us could and should wear them but only in certain circumstances and situations. Because science.

Then magically, masks worked again! All of them! In any form or fabric, even a dollar store scrap of bedazzled lace or a strip of jersey with a snarky saying emblazoned on it (“Calm down, Karen. It’s allergies.”). Even though we were never mandated—or even asked nicely—to wear a face diaper to protect ourselves and others from any other virus on the planet ever, overnight they were life-saving accessories despite the fact that none of us could pass Mask Wearing 101.

Since untrained newscasters insisted that masks worked better than a flea collar on a hairless cat,* you were not to set foot in a restaurant if you weren’t wearing one. Unless you were eating. Or drinking. Or just, you know, sitting at your table. Then obviously you were fine and not contagious at all. Until you walked to the bathroom without it, which everyone knew was riskier than unprotected spring break sex. For that, you’d get booted out on your ass. Or stabbed. (Seriously, look up “face mask stabbing.” This is not one-off; it’s an actual thing.)

*Except according to a preponderance of scientific evidence, the types of masks most of us wear *might* block a whopping 3% of airborne particles, and also can cause a host of medical woes from “maskne” (also a thing) to pulmonary toxicity (sadly, ditto), an unfun byproduct of breathing in a nonstop stream of the mold, fungi, and bacteria scientists have found parading all over our muzzles. Not to mention what they’re doing to our children’s physical, social and mental health, which wouldn’t be all that bad if we were intentionally trying to raise a generation of irritable, easily distracted sociopaths. Of course, if you take time away from your busy soccer-momming schedule to argue this at your local school board meeting, you will be given a shiny new Domestic Terrorist Card. At that point, you might as well slap a MAGA sticker on your forehead and move to Wyoming, you filthy Trumper.  

Of course, masks were just the beginning. Six feet apart was going to keep us safe. But definitely not five-and-a-half ma’am I insist you return to your safe-square immediately or you’ll have to leave the store because you’re jeopardizing the other shoppers even in your very effective mask and with your seven vaccines. Bringing your own grocery bags to Trader Joe’s was just downright reckless but accepting the store-supplied bags that the germy Hawaiian-shirt guy handed to you from around his eighteen-inch plexiglass partition was a sensible way to safeguard your health. It’s called S-C-I-E-N-C-E, okay?

#MakeItMakeSense

If we caught the dreaded c-word, safe, effective horse-de-wormers Nobel Prize-winning medications like ivermectin would definitely kill us. Thankfully we didn’t need to worry because a “vaccine” its maker bragged about developing in just a few hours was going to protect us and keep us from needing horse de-wormer any sort of treatment in the first place! Sure, the “vaccine” wasn’t an actual vaccine until they changed the definition of the word vaccine so they could call it a vaccine, and yes, it had zero safety or efficacy data to support its audacious, widespread promotion and use, and fine, the developer had been forced to cough up billions of dollars in penalties for falsifying data, suppressing adverse trial results and fraudulent marketing in the past. But it was SAFE AND EFFECTIVE because they said it was, and besides not getting it would kill your grandmother so shut up and stop being so selfish and roll up your sleeve.

#MakeItMakeSense

Only a few months later, now that billions of shots have been administered, it turns out they’re not particularly safe and they’re a transatlantic flight away from effective. They don’t prevent infection and they don’t stop transmission (but please keep getting your boosters!) and tens of thousands of people have dropped dead after getting them and millions more are suffering heart attacks, strokes, immune system disorders, miscarriages, menstrual irregularities, tremors, paralysis, impaired vision, gastroesophageal reflux, thrombosis, cellulitis, sepsis, and subdural hematomas, to name but a few of the thousands of side effects you can peruse by searching for “COVID-19 vaccine” on VigiAccess, the World Health Organization’s frighteningly detailed database of safety reports from around the world. Whoops.

The ones who aren’t dead—the granny-loving, CDC-believing, disinformation-denying disciples who hate you (me) for not bowing down to the clown show—are now being told their fabulous, pharmacological “immunity” (to dying suddenly I guess, since the clot shot doesn’t prevent transmission or infection, remember?) lasts anywhere from a few weeks to a few months, if they’re lucky.

They should be pissed, right? After all, there was a deal: do the thing, get your life back. They did the thing! Life is not back! But instead of digging in their heels and joining the conspiracy-pointer-outers in our rage against the machine, they blame us for their suffering (my tequila only gets me buzzed if you all drink, too, so bottoms up, bitches!) and line up willingly, eagerly, for a lifetime of being stabbed with a menacing chemical cocktail. You know, the one they have to keep getting because it doesn’t work.

#MakeItMakeSense

And now—and this is the part that chaps my ass harder than sandpaper panties—they’re giving this same broken-at-best-deadly-at-worst elixir to their children! AND BRAGGING ABOUT IT. They’re posting photos of tiny band-aided arms and making vile TikTok videos threatening to “sneeze all over you antivaxxers,” and hoping our kids get taken away from us for the outrageous crime of not poisoning them. They’re signing their infants up for clinical trials; the same precious, pure, innocent creatures they refused booze and bacon and brie for while they were incubating them but now have no problem gleefully handing over to scientific study like gender neutral onesie-wearing lab mice.

For the record, the FDA advises against putting sunblock on babies. But experimental medicines that don’t work for a disease they’re not at risk of catching, spreading or dying from? Line ‘em up, mamas! Obviously it’s fine, since Big Bird got his shot and didn’t die or anything.

#MakeItMakeSense

I’ve written about the obvious cognitive dissonance around this topic before, but this is next level. Our job as parents is to keep our children safe. That’s basically it. We’re supposed to love them and keep them alive. It’s harrowing work; take it from a veteran. I pre-chewed my daughters’ food when they were wee and sliced their hotdogs lengthwise until they were driving themselves to school. (You’re welcome to keep your thoughts on that last bit to yourself.) I padded sharp corners and taught them about stranger danger and stood in line to have their infant car seats installed by firemen specifically trained in this skill. I taught them that a creepy guy might try to sneak drugs into their drinks at a party and that they should aim for the nose, throat, or nuts if they ever need to throw a life-saving punch. Am I now going to let a bunch of corrupt, money-hungry bureaucrats force a faulty pharmaceutical into my perfectly healthy progeny?

They better bring backup if they try.

Two long, eye-opening years later, it all makes perfect, depressing sense. The masks, mandates, and arbitrary social distancing standards were all about control. Would the majority of people do utterly nonsensical things simply because they were told to? Why, yes, they would, especially if you make doing the things appear honorable and not-doing the things selfish and racist! Genius! The jabs were about unprecedented profit, sure, but also about thinning the herd—they couldn’t go after pregnant women any harder if they tried*—and making customers-for-life out of the poor, sick sheep left standing. (I suppose it could be pure coincidence that Pfizer dropped $43 billion this year expanding into the cancer space at the very same time cancer rates are exploding around the globe. I mean, the only two cameras that could have disproved the Epstein “suicide” story both malfunctioned at exactly the same time the night he died, so it’s obvious that serendipity happens!) And the pitting of one side against the other—the masked, vaxxed, virtuous rule-followers vs the selfish SOBs who dare to ask questions and have an obsession with bodily autonomy—was by deliberate design, to keep us too busy shaming and blaming one another for all the world’s woes to figure out who our real enemies are.

*If you click only one link in this post, make it this one. The stats are infuriating and heartbreaking, but it’s a powerful tool to have in your wake-up arsenal.

If you’re like me, the fact that it #makessense isn’t going to shut you up. In fact, it’s going to make you even angrier and louder—two things that may have seemed impossible just a few short months or years ago. Because the more people it makes sense to, the less likely our crooked, homicidal establishment will be to get away with it again.

Merry Christmas, friends! Thanks for following, reading, and commenting. I’m honored by and thankful for your time and support. I know I can be a tiny bit sarcastic at times, but I genuinely mean that. :)

The War on Ivermectin outlines the whole nefarious plandemic
and is available on Amazon and anywhere else kickass books are sold.