23 March 2023
The 17th of April is nigh, and it will forever commemorate the day that the State of Oregon and every spineless compliant masked sheeple in the State murdered my mother. She was killed by house arrest “cuz we wuz a-scared o’ the Bat Saliva Wet Market China Virus” like “we wuz a-scared o’ them Eye Racky Ter’rists and their weapons-o-mass-destruction.”
The nice thing about guilt, like laughter and knowledge, is that it is infinitely divisible, yet it remains undiminished. Every malignant maskerati moral slug deserves a hearty punch in the throat for killing my Mom, whether directly or by cheering on Frau Braun’s (aka “Kateler’s”) edicts (“cuz we wuz a-scared”), and I am not soon to forgive. I “wuz a-scared” too, but I also knew that any virus that landed on my shoulder would soon die of ultra-violet poisoning (if I was smart enough to step outside now and then), and any that I inhaled (or had land on the wet welcoming membrane of my eye) would sooner die at the “hands” of my hardy leukocytes. Yeah, I wuz a-scared. A-scared that my country would surrender to this depravity and embrace the child sacrifices symptomatic of dying cultures. Geez do I hate being right so much!