Many years ago, I started investigating the world of finance for myself after following the official advice regularly regurgitated in mainstream media about how to save for your future. The very advice that saw many people’s savings decimated in market crashes that occurred in 2000, 2001 and 2008. My first book, How to Invest in Gold and Silver from 2006-07, was actually only intended for private consumption, but when the UK bank Northern Rock ran into difficulties in early 2008 I recognised the malaise as similar to other events in history and decided to release it publicly.
The reading and research continued. In 2019 and 2020, many signs began to appear that all is not well with the world, culminating in the Corona crisis and crash of 2020.
In August, I switched off all media influences and wrote my new 2020 book Gold, Silver and Freedom – The Greatest Theft Never Known. It brings together many of the jigsaw pieces, with some terrifying conclusions for the future we may all have to face, along with insights on possible solutions.
2020 has become the year of the pointless platitude. From #SaveTheNHS, to such illuminating slogans as “Eat Out to Help Out”, the government has been incredibly busy. As has media, in a more subtle way, working on everyone to establish a consensus solution to Covid-19. You are doubtless fully aware of some of the slogans being used out there, while being blissfully unaware of others that are being drilled into your subconscious.
For we are at war, or hadn’t you noticed? Everything about it screams so – the curfews, the rationing and the closing of non-essential businesses. Only that, well, the enemy isn’t aliens, terrorists or massed hordes of Huns, but instead a virus. A virus so awful it requires government to introduce new laws like knocking your Corona-infested house down and being able to intern you indefinitely under the Mental Health Act with the say-so of one doctor and a compliant nurse. Nurses are usually compliant when it comes to doctors, or so I am told.
So yes, step forward the pointless platitude. In 1914 and 1940, it was ones like “Keep Mum, She’s not so dumb”, “Dig for Victory” and “Your Country needs you”. I can’t help but feel the quality has declined somewhat, that going out and eating to excess is somehow considered good for the country, or that it is somehow equivalent to growing your own vegetables or joining the Home Guard, but there you go. While at the same time I would guess the costs have risen dramatically for the teams of advertising execs hammering this stuff out in the background. Actually, worth pointing out I’ve done my bit for Queen and Country during this war. Oh Yes. I went to the pub and, instead of just having a main, somehow managed to pack in three courses and a couple of English Ales. Why not indeed, when the whole meal was 50% off? Maybe I can tell my grandchildren about it some day.
I’m so full of pride for how we’re all digging in together to fight this evil enemy that I’ve done my bit by creating a calendar to help remind us what an awful wartime situation we’re all in.
That certainly is something to tell the grandkids about. Think of it as an Old Moores Almanac of Corona. The whole thing is so predictable and doubtful, that it should be mocked. Hey, it may even be right about one or two of the months. No, if I do ever get to speak to my grandchildren, I’ll be telling them I went to work as normal, conducted a personal #SayNoToWorkAtHome campaign and avoided wearing a mask wherever I could. This year is that start of something much, much bigger. The end of the theft of our money and a ramping up in the theft of our freedom. More on that in a subsequent post, but fair to say I have been quite busy last couple of months and this calendar was only part of that.
Meanwhile, as we all know;
“Life won’t get back to normal until we get a vaccine“
I’ve heard this one Ad Infinitum since about June / July. How did that phrase get into your head? Yep, media has definitely been busy. Reminds me of another slogan, this time from a 70’s kids TV show.
“Why don’t you go switch off your TV and do something less boring instead?”
Hmm, the BBC drilled that one into my head 40 years ago and I still remember it. These slogans are very, very effective after all.
Notice how despite everything, including the obvious signs of wear and tear, I still refer to you as “Great” rather than as a “United Kingdom”, but somehow united felt like even more of an untruth. Anyway, the universe asked me to write to you, so here I am.
I love you and I hate you, both in equal measure. Our relationship goes back so many years, you were there when I was born, there when I spoke my first word, there when I started school and there when I left it. There when I graduated from university and there when I got my first job. By that time, I was really liking you, I thought we had something special. I invested in a nice house for us to share and further grew the relationship by registering my own company within your shores, ah such happy times for us both!
Then it went wrong. See, I started to realise you weren’t as into me as I thought. I lost my job in 2002 and you didn’t seem to particularly care. You didn’t even want to know my children – calls to your offices said they would have to settle for foreign citizenship. I felt unloved. It all went wrong and in 2004-05 I left you, vowing never to return.
Like many a relationship however, I couldn’t stop thinking about you and the good times we’d had together. It’s funny how time clouds the bad memories and highlights the good ones, isn’t it? I still visited regularly, trying to keep the veins of our relationship open, just in case there was any chance we could ever reunite. I even spent time digging deep into the distant past to see how far our relationship went. As far as I could go, back into the 1820s, it was pure and if anything convinced me we’d always been meant for each other. See, the other thing about you was that you shared more similar views on freedom, business and personal responsibility than others I’d met, like Denmark. I could even try to overlook the way you’d cruelly treated my ancestors, letting them die at young ages in hard work that we can only imagine now, or forced them into relative poverty. You were probably just immature and ignorant then, weren’t you?
In 2016, you asked me for your opinion on whether you should stay in your current relationship. I jumped at the chance to give my opinion, just like many others. Surely, I thought, you’ll regain your freedom and appreciate me in a way you’d never appreciated me before. We might even move back in together? My current relationship wasn’t too happy about this, but I’d accepted we were probably failing and pushed on regardless, clearly giving you my opinion and reiterating it many, many times to the point of boredom on those forced to listen. Like the others you asked, we feel frustrated, angry and disappointed that you then ignored us and hoped we might not notice when you pretended to leave that relationship, but instead signed an eternally-cementing bond, dressed up as divorce.
Well, around that time I was having my own big life changes too and I began to believe there was a chance it could all work out for us. I made my plans accordingly, setting up to DKexit, the same time you were Brexiting, knowing we would meet again some day. What a mistake that has turned out to be.
Even after everything, I still visited you earlier this month. If anything, it felt like that moment you see your first love a long time after a break up, and the sinking feeling in your stomach you feel as you realise she’s now covered in tattoos, has body piercings and smokes. Where did it all go wrong? I knew it was over.
Or thought it was. There were still gaps in that family history that I needed to look up. Walking around Whitehaven on a sunny afternoon, finding the sites where my ancestors had lived, got married and possibly died. Well, that reawakened my love for you. I could see past the tattoos, piercings and cigarette smoke, just for a moment. Nowhere else in the world do I feel so reunited with the things that are so important – my family and my history. You bitch.
I will say this though. If we do re-enter a relationship, it’ll be more on my terms than it ever was before.
I alluded previously in passing to the Hollywood film Ex-Machina. In case you missed it, the premise of the film is that a quirky I.T. billionaire has created a robotic human. Visibly, it passes as a human but what he really needs to do is see if it passes a variety of tests from another human to be confirmed as a sentient being.
Subtle hints are there throughout about how illogical humans can be and whether it’s socially ethical to create a robotic human and mistreat it or use it sexually. The subtext tells you exactly what to think. The billionaire himself, clearly based on something Google-related, has cut corners and shown he has no ethics himself in exploiting customer data way beyond legality. The tester, a social failure to some extent, believing that coming to the billionaire’s house gives him social status he has never had before. Ah, us humans, how imperfect, with feeble emotions and needing to be replaced by something 100% logical are we?!? Of course, the film proceeds exactly as you may expect, given the agenda. The human tester, who doesn’t even realise he is part of the experiment, falls in love with the Robotic Scandic, Alicia Vikander. I won’t spoil the ending, but needless to say everyone gets what they deserve. Or what you are led along the path to think they deserve.
It’s a thought-provoking film, but what struck me soon afterwards is what was missing from the film. The Tester is never allowed close to the robot. All tests are conducted with a glass screen between them. It’s quite a subtle but important omission, when you think about it. Psychologically, most of what helps us decide if we like or dislike someone, can trust them or not, is non-verbal. I read once that humans will sniff their hand within one minute of shaking hands with someone. I can well believe it, what is gut feeling, if not actually based on exactly what it means. While we don’t go sniffing around bottoms the way dogs do, we’re still mammals, still looking for and responding sub-conciously to the same cues.
What else is noticeably missing is facial expressions. It took me longer to realise that. The robot may indeed be defined as attractive, but is a woman who never smiles truly beautiful? I doubt it. Again, these non-verbal cues may be sub-concious, but it doesn’t mean they’re not an essential part of being human. Not even smiles, but what about those other universal micro-expressions? All of them related to emotions, negative and positive, but an essential part of human life and communication.
Start shutting these down and a large part of being human disappears. That would never happen of course, though…would it? Oh wait, it already has and is happening – think social distancing, handwash and wearing a mask. Stick perspex screens up in the tills at shops, then one day, just replace the person serving you with a clone and as long as they can carry the interaction out in the correct sequence, how likely are you to even notice? Then, eliminate the shaking of hands and insist that humans stay 1-2m apart. That should stop you being able to pick up scents, or the existence of an aura. Then, that just leaves the pesky problem of verbal and non-verbal communication between people, even children standing in soul-destroying distancing circles at school. Stick a mask on them, now see how well they can read faces for what’s really being said as opposed to just the words themselves.
It was all so, so simple. Millions of years of evolution suppressed, perhaps even destroyed long-term and people went along with it, cried for it even, to fight a virus with the same casualty rate as the flu. Or so they were told.
Now, look around you now. Examine those people closely. Are you sure they’re all really still human?
As the life changes continue, one more piece of the past must go – I received an invoice last month and the webhosting expires on 18/06/2020. I’ve decided not to renew, this account has too much history I’d prefer to dump totally for the time being. That’s not to say I won’t return, but if I do it’ll be at my leisure with a new webhosting solution. Buying domains, building websites and writing has been a fun exercise and I will definitely retain the domains with my surname in them, even if they don’t point anywhere for now. I even sold a couple, which was also fun.
Temporarily at least, I see dark days ahead for the world and especially the UK. A couple of years ago, I encountered some alarming statistics from supposedly-official sources, forecasting the UK population to be 15 million in 2025. A 75% drop. Denmark gets off fairly lightly with a one-third drop. At the time I thought it was a joke, but then you get to thinking – if you did want to achieve that, how would you do it? I couldn’t, not bar a nuclear explosion or bubonic plague-type incident hitting the world and the resultant unrest and fight for survival afterwards. It seemed impossible and yet, someone brought up those statistics again the other day. Now it actually doesn’t seem so ridiculous. In fact, if I was aiming to get that kind of reduction I’d probably introduce the kind of policies that are being brought out worldwide today. Let’s start by taking away people’s freedom to socialise and live their lives as they decide fit. Scare them that a killer virus is going to kill them and everyone they care about. Then let’s take away their right to earn and transact in any way they wish with their fellow human beings. Once I’d chucked all that in the cooking pot, I’d wait for it to simmer. Unlike a soup it might take months, but the despondency, despair and anger would grow.
If I wanted the old people to die off, then I’d get the subtle message out to them that they were a burden, that they were hogging all the resources and that worst, they had stolen their offspring’s future by voting for Brexit. Stir those ingredients for a few years via TV, since they are most likely to watch the traditional outlets like the British brainwashing corporation. Let’s ignore that they were actually trying to protect their young by voting for greater freedom and an attempt to return back to happier days they remember of full employment and an NHS that did care. Age often equals immense wisdom. Then as the virus opened up, I’d remind then about DNR’s they could sign, saying they want to die if found to be seriously ill (and who gets to define seriously ill anyway?). Then, when the virus kicked off, I’d get the old who had it out of the hospitals and into care homes where they could infect as many previously safe old people as possible and boost the death rate.
That there aren’t people out on the streets in huge numbers protesting the items just mentioned, whereas there are thousands out to protest the death of a single person by 4 police officers (one white, one asian, one middle-eastern and one mixed race) on racism grounds seems ridiculous, but the buttons are being pressed, the fermented brew is now ready for the next phase.
What form will that next phase take? I really don’t know, but I would guess that if I can create a disease and change the rules to make it almost impossible to live a normal life without having the “cure”, then that must be something to do with it. What’s in that vaccine anyway and how come it’s bypassing the normal stages of testing that take minimum 18-24 months? I can’t help but wonder if predictive TV programming has already set us up for this – with items from the film Kingsman 2 and Dr Who, where people could be remotely blown up due to implants, or could be remotely activated to extreme violence were hints. Certainly, nanotechnology and graphene are facilitating a whole load of new miniscule technology solutions we know little about. Feel free to take it if you must, but I’ll trust on millions of years of evolution and avoid it for as long as I can.
If you think I’m mad then remember the Roman empire. Rome itself had a population of 2 million at it’s peak. By the 6-7th century, it was 30,000. Carthage, a booming metropolis, 750,000 yet was down to about 70 lurking among the ruins when France took control in the 1870s. I’ve wandered around other cities in Tunisia that had a population of 100,000+ yet are now just impressive ruins that extend as far as the eyes can see, no-one in sight. Oudna in particular was spectacular, with marble and pottery crunching under every footstep. Something happened then and we really don’t know what it was. Well, we think we know but no-one talks much about the demographic and currency crises that led to that decline. The exact things that are occurring now. I’m sure however it ended, someone made it off with the real loot in advance and left the general populace to fight it out.
The Prisoner, can have the final word on this :-
I will not be pushed, filed, stamped, indexed, briefed, debriefed or numbered. My life is my own.
In an attempt to zig while the word zags, I spent the last 2 weekends going away to visit new places and I may even continue the trend later in the month. Way I see it is, I want to visit these places, then they’ll be dead quiet and appreciative of the business. They were – both times I was the only Friday night guest and I’ve never been personally greeted at the door by the host by name before yet it happened now. Who knows if we’ll ever get those chances again and even if we do, what will the prices be? Old railway stations were seen, loppemarkets explored, some cool items bought and old streets were walked. Jensens Bøfhus was also visited, and there was no battle for a table.
I’d like to thank the regular readers, of which there were not many, but it’s interesting who does visit sometimes and the keywords used. Like Tom from St Albans. I’d just like to know why he thought one of my posts was bonkers, as he never said. Only time will show if I was bonkers or not. Yes, if I can see that level of information, you’ve got to wonder what Google/Alphabet can do. Actually, I already know – when working at a UK Telecoms company back in 2008, someone wrote on an anonymous chatroom that they were going to kill themselves. The IP address was traced and the home was visited by police within one hour. 12 years ago.
Alongside this, I have my own happenings in life. Changes that are sad, were unanticipated and are to be faced. I would’ve laughed at this song once, especially the cheesy Bodyguard version, but Dolly sings it well and the words seem more poignant in light of those happenings.
Life goes on, of course. In fact, I’m thinking more clearly than I have done for a while. I really enjoyed those weekends away and I’ll definitely do it again. I suggest you do too and forget those government guidelines – they aren’t even laws. One thing though, do keep a few gold sovereigns under the floorboards, just in case.
I went to the loppe again yesterday. More CDs and DVDs were bought. Why not at those prices? One charity shop even had a sign up saying they were holding a clearance of all DVDs / CDs. Take that as a sign, if you will, of where the world has gone, never mind is headed. I took it as a sign that at 5 for 20kr, I may as well stock up and found 15 items to buy. I’ve been idly browsing fb marketplace occasionally, looking at hi-fi separates that used to sell for hundreds of pounds with comments such as “we’re moving to a streaming solution instead” (I can almost hear the sighed lament of the man who wrote it) and come to the same conclusion – people are removing the hardware from their homes and trusting in the internet.
When I refer to hardware, I should clarify here that I mean everything that has been historically the basis of knowledge and cultural enrichment. Audio, film and books. People have been spoilt the last 100 years, at no other time in history that is known of, have people had access to so much information, so much cultural enrichment, so cheaply and so immediately than at this point in civilisation. Think back to 100 years ago, people were forced to rely on newspapers or whatever books the local library might stock – and remember, reading libraries for the masses were themselves only a late Victorian introduction. For music, you had to attend the music venue, or gather round the piano and hope that at least one of the family was up to turning out a tune. Families often invested a lot in making sure at least one member could. All that changed – books, electricity, radio, gramophone, Television, record players, cassettes, VHS, Betamax, CDs, DVDs and now finally, the internet.
At first, it meant a great thing – people could invest in the cultural items they wanted to enjoy and bring them into their homes – a bookcase of relevant books, a CD rack of relevant CDs and a line of DVDs of what they enjoyed watching and rewatching again. In my case, this would mostly be Auf Wiedersehen Pet 1 and 2, nothing comes remotely close in terms of being something I’d happily watch again and again, tirelessly. I have a problem sitting through long films and even gave up on the 2.5 hour long Green Mile – apparently it has a good ending, but I’ve never seen it and I’ve always resisted watching Lord of the Rings, surrendering 13 hours of my life feels daunting, even if individual clips I’ve seen are well made. Each to their own though. Apt phrase, since each to their own is exactly what this kind of freedom meant happened.
The internet seems the next logical step then, as it allows homes to enjoy the benefits of a greater array of media publications than ever before, without the clutter and space consumption a good music unit, DVD player and Books, CDs and DVDs inevitably require. However, I found myself wondering yesterday if that’s a good thing and concluded perhaps it isn’t, in the long term at least. The internet was of course sold as a place of freedom – could be that was the only way to get people to use it in the first place, but more and more people are being herded like sheep into the official channels of facebook, twitter (where you can’t even write proper sentences), youtube, amazon, netflix, etc. Maybe you’ve noticed it yourself, maybe not but the internet is becoming heavily policed. So many youtube channels I know of are being demonetised if their opinion doesn’t fit the official narrative on something, or simply being deleted. Another voice shut up, another media disappears.
I previously alluded to another of my favourite books, The Machine Stops. A futuristic world where everyone is reliant on a machine to control their lives. The machine network becomes too complex for people to reverse engineer and repair when things begin to go wrong. It certainly could’ve been predicting the internet. It’s not hard to see, with the complexity of the network that things could go wrong sometimes in future, or that in the event of war bandwidth could be rationed or even blocked off to non-essential services. Then what are you going to do when that ever-so-elegant streaming solution can no longer be relied on?
The interesting thing here is that of course this couldn’t happen if you actually owned the media yourself and had it in your home and this is where I find the names of the Amazon devices for reading e-books interesting. Censorship in days gone by meant actually burning the books that were deemed not acceptable to the prevailing leadership and train of thought. The Nazis themselves did this in the 1930s, as did Stalin and indeed, so did the UK government with David Shayler and the Spycatcher book. Censorship happens, but it was so, so much harder to do then than it is now, where burning a book doesn’t need to happen in order for a publication deemed unacceptable to simply disappear from the online shelves. I’ve already seen it happen myself with several publications. So to take it to a logical conclusion, Amazon’s first device, the Kindle, started the book burning process. Their next device, Fire, got it truly underway. So what’s next? Flame, Ash? I really have no idea, but I’ve concluded that having a good stock of physical books and CDs to feed you during possible harder times is well worth considering. Just got to hope the electricity holds out if that happens.
I guess the personal thing that brought these thoughts to the fore was my own mini-burning this past week. Recent events led to me having a major clearout, personal items with a relevant past needed to be discarded so I can move on. I simply couldn’t carry them over my head any more – quite literally, in this case, as most were stored in the loft, but there were also others – a picture, drawn for me, placed on the fridge door that felt like the start of something big, but instead was just the beginning of the end. I sent emails asking if anyone wanted these memories – a photograph of 5 generations of a family together is impossible to replace in my opinion. Clearly just my opinion though. I only got one reply and that was a clear, saddening no. I even found an old tortoise garden ornament I’d held onto – I remember this one because my son really wanted it when the deceased great-grandmothers house was being cleared. My daughter accidentally dropped it one day and to ease the tears, I spent a whole evening gradually superglueing it back together. Spild af min tid, as they say in Denmark. The fire burnt well yesterday. Even Sunderland stripes were put to the flame.
So here’s a question to finish on – does a book, CD or film still exist if all copies of it have been burnt and all digital traces of it erased? If the answer is no, then you might want to save hard copies of your personal favourites just in case the Machine Stops.
Footnote : I reread this and will add blog posts to this list. I’ve read some great ones over the years that are now consigned to the digital dustbin, never to return. I best export this blog again…
I’ve been hearing a lot about the UK not wanting to return to school. Both the majority of teachers and the majority of parents. In fact, the only people who seem to want to get the kids back to school are the government. I’d assume also not just the government, but private companies who are infiltrating the supposed state-run education system and ultimately, of course, big pharma, who must be missing out on billions from missed vaccinations in the children’s schedules. Schools now spend less and less time teaching your children anything useful and more and more time indoctrinating and inoculating.
Of course, this reminds me of my own unhappy and previously recounted school days. I’d have a loved a period like this out of the system to play with my meccano, build airfix kits and actually go outside to play. The trigger for this was this great picture I just found :-
As if to prove my theory that Denmark is the bite-sized country test bed for the Agenda before taking it further, it’s been noticeable again that Denmark was first to return to the “new normal”. It really couldn’t wait to get the children back to the institutions. I can guess why. Aside from the obvious tax implications of not collecting from the engineered normal state of two working parents that exists here, families were bonding and doing things together. I heard plenty of stories of baking, gardening and other activities that would do far more to help a child grow than sitting in a class being told to shut up and stay still. In IT terms, much of school is pure GIGO. The not so obvious part was that those kids needed to be getting their vaccines, so they had to be nudged back into the system. This being that new system.
While I unhappily couldn’t avoid the indoctrination over many years, I did manage to avoid the inoculation part. I’ve never had a single vaccine for anything and I’m proud to say that. My mother did well – many of her era saw children damaged by them and the damage brushed under the carpet, just as it was for many years with Thalidomide. In a way, I could guess big pharma would use a smaller compensation pay-out like that to deflect attention from the damage done to millions and potential pay-out there. In the US, they are actually indemnified by the government against damage caused by their vaccines and there is a huge government compensation fund for all the vaccine-damaged children out there. Even reading their stated mission purpose should make you cringe. Indians, however, weren’t so lucky when Bill Gates, you know that famous philanthropist with absolutely no agenda behind his good deeds, ahem, rolled out his Polio vaccine there and was eventually chased out.
Even in Denmark, TV2 – the Danish equivalent of ITV, bravely made a documentary about all the children allegedly damaged by the HPV Gardasil vaccine. I’ll insert that word there because big pharma and the media really did go on the attack and get it shut up. It’s very hard to even find that documentary online. Ireland was another big user of HPV Gardasil and has similar issues, where a group of mothers whose daughters lives are destroyed find themselves under attack by vile media, where you have to question if the stories are genuine free press or paid-for attempts to discredit these groups. It certainly worked in Denmark.
Obviously all of this is relevant to today. Denmark introduced a law that they can administer the vaccine to anyone they decide should have it. Just forgetting that, officially at least, there is no vaccine and if the proper testing began on a product delivered today, it would be at least 18-24 months before it was available to the general public. Should make anyone question whether they secretly have it ready now and what it will actually contain. The same voice seems to be dictating governments worldwide. The UK, through the vile Matt Hancock, with his own vaccine business that no media outlet seems to mention, constantly goes on about mandatory vaccinations and the need to get them out to everyone. He’s certainly made it into my top 10 of all-time vile politicians, right up there with Major, Blair and Brown.
On top of this, I made a terrible mistake and I am so angry with myself. I’ve spent the last few days sorting through old photos, keeping those that matter and discarding those that do not. When I look back at the park in Sittingbourne in 2003-04, I see two happy children full of energy and drive. A daughter who if you tried to help her with something would always say “Do it self!”, I loved that. The one thing I didn’t do though was protect them from vaccinations, I allowed myself to be persuaded that vaccines were safe and worked. In 2005, after moving to Denmark and getting on the indoctrination and inoculation schedule something changed. I’m sorry.
I have alluded in prior posts to the destruction of the NHS, probably the one part of the welfare state people would happily pay for – if it was run efficiently and actually did focus on the health of the nation, anyway. Sadly it isn’t. I am grateful to it for repairing me when I almost died as a child, but in it’s current form it’s been totally hijacked by big pharma, big business and government agendas that I simply don’t trust it at all. Especially right now.
Ask yourself this – if a health service really did care about the health of the people who pay for it – “customers” in normal business parlance, then why not focus on prevention rather than cure? It could do this by simply helping people live healthily in the first place and while this advice might not be appreciated by big business like Coca-cola, McDonalds or the pharmaceutical companies wanting to sell people the regular drugs direct debit, it’d be the simplest and cheapest way of maintaining health and longevity.
Aside from being hijacked, the people who actually work within it have turned into egomaniacs, convinced of their key worker status and being the first sharers of those irritatingly offensive #StayAtHome posts on fb and condescendingly asserting their superior assumed knowledge on the subject. Top that off with making videos for social media of them dancing and singing in the workplace, wearing supposedly-valuable PPE (something about that acronym irritates me immensely) and utilising work resources. In any other workplace this would mean disciplinary action or the sack.
At this point, I will declare a personal interest in this. My own ex-partner. She went through her own epiphany of arrogance and condescension while gaining a nursing degree herself. That I had single-handedly financially carried the family for years meant nothing. Suddenly her 30-grand nursing job put me in the shade and made me irrelevant in Danish eyes. I already was marked down by simply not being Dansk. This is the same smug self-superiority that has seen all my children vaccinated against my judgement (and at least one may be damaged by that, which I did try to bring up once) and also saw the self-appointed medical expert explain to me how depression was a chemical imbalance in the brain, that can be fixed by drugs. That theory has been dismissed as rubbish now, which should say a lot about the medical training itself and how it has also been hijacked.
I have to admit, I thought it was just a localised problem within my own failing household. Fast forward to 2020 and I see I was wrong. The caring profession worldwide no longer cares – they put themselves first. The medical oaths to try your utmost to save and prolong lives has gone – just witness the desire to get people to sign Do Not Resuscitate (DNRs) forms so they can just dump them in a room to die. I have my own personal experiences of this that are making me angrier and angrier the more I think about it. Meanwhile, egos have grown, probably in direct correlation to the decline of medical ethics (see that word again, ethics?). BBC Casualty – a wonderful show to watch to pick up on future agenda – actually had a DNR story at the beginning of the Corona crisis, a subtle bit of mind-programming for the viewers to absorb. This crisis is bringing out the worst from the uncaring profession. Medical resources are being misallocated, with other services that could pick up illnesses earlier stopped or seriously curtailed. I personally can attest it’s not just a UK phenomenon and is bound to lead to more deaths from cancer and the like later. Meanwhile all these people can do is make awful interpretations of the Haka :-
This narcissism is of course being fed by the government with the Save the NHS crap excuse to stop people getting out, with the exercise and sunshine benefits that would bring. Of course, you are allowed to pop out at 8pm and expend pointless energy clapping furiously for a bunch of egomaniacs who aren’t apparently working very hard and who will just dump your grandparents in a room to die if they happen to get ill, while simultaneously denying you access to be in the same room.
I think I see the agenda here. The destruction of the NHS. It would be sad, based on what the theory of how a national health service could be, but I would not lament many of these people losing their jobs or big pharma losing their right to dip into taxpayer pockets. While right now there is widespread support and adulation of the NHS, at some point a growing number will begin to see through it – fueled by non-treatment of their own ailments or the neglect of dying relatives. Then the backlash will start, the anger and hate could become a tidal wave. The NHS will be privatised, which is what the agenda wanted all along.
I was reminded today of a speech I had listened to last year. At the time it seemed very strange, but now it means even more. Boris Johnson at the UN in September 2019 :-
Of course these things aren’t normally of much interest, but often it’s where the agenda is presented. Just as the agricultural era was usurped by the industrial era, so we are witnessing the death of the industrial era and the start of the information era. I suppose, given my career choices, I should be pleased there is a demand for my skills. Interestingly, when I researched my own family tree I found one of my own family branches were victims of the agricultural to industrial switch. It seems they were sheep farmers out on the Yorkshire moors and lived in a decent manor house (1851 census). From there, it was possible to track the decline of the family through ever decreasing properties in each census until my great-grandmother emerged in lodgings with her sister in 1901 in Consett. It’s actually where she met my great-grandfather. Their original manor house property is still there and is rumoured to have once been lost in a bet. I can only wonder at the desperation there must have been behind that story (if true). In what can be seen now as a major switch in policy to get the UK even more focused on manufacturing instead of agriculture, the corn laws were repealed in 1830 or so. This meant cheaper and cheaper agricultural imports undermined local farmers, while at the exact same time, the opening up of empire brought ever more wool imported from Australia. A UK farmer would have seen demand for their product fall precipitously and at the same time seen their traditional workforce head off to new industrial jobs in local cities like Leeds. A lethal combination. As may well be proven by the absence of the male head of the household in the 1861 census compared to 1851.
Especially of interest is the reference to Prometheus, the creator of mankind itself. So pleased was he with his creation, that he gifted it fire, so it could develop civilisation. This was the mention that first made me listen to it back in 2019, when it was first put out there. To me, legends may be legends but somewhere within are grains of truth. Mankind has been given a new fire, the technology to change it’s life, but will the fire be good or bad?
Technology is marching onwards and Data is the New oil. It seems to me that the march wasn’t fast enough and something was needed to push it forward faster. Much like the industrial era being held back by potential new workers/slaves still working on jobs considered to be part of previous era, who then need to be “freed up”, along with their resources. Of course, there’ll always be a need for manufactured goods, just as there is a still a need for food (although with this one, just look at the agenda to demonise meat and get everyone eating plants, frankenfoods grown in a lab and potentially insects), but these industries only employ a fraction of the numbers they traditionally needed before.
You don’t need to be particularly insightful to see who some of the real winners of this Corona crisis are. While traditional shops, pubs and restaurants are bad, apparently shopping online, especially at Amazon is fine. While everyone switches to digital means of communication and work, you can only imagine how much data places like Google have been able to gather lately. It’s a goldmine. Meanwhile, Microsoft continues to push for mandatory vaccinations and it’s vile ID 2020 proposal. Get your Certificate of Vaccine ID (COVID) here. Implanted inside your body somehow, preferably. Yes, silicon valley is doing very nicely, thank you. To see what’s planned next, check out this vile patent for cryptocurrency attached to humanity itself. There will be no respite or hiding place if that becomes reality.
I’ll stick by what I said before, we are on the verge – well, it’s already started – of a huge struggle between ethics and technology. Unfortunately, having seen the response of many to the recent loss of freedom, I don’t expect much ethics from anyone. Individuals do surprise occasionally though. I sold something on fb marketplace (data mined, no doubt) and the person who bought it was so pleased with his purchase that he insisted on shaking my hand. To me, that was good mix of ethics (free trade), humanity (shaking hands) and technology (fb facilitating the transaction). I believe though, that the first two are under threat big time. Time will prove me right or wrong.
I saw my eldest daughter yesterday. It’s a major coincidence really, considering the random nature of my decision to visit the loppe. I drove up past the local supermarkets and at the the traffic lights, was none other than her. To most Dads, this random incident would be minor and not even worthy of mention, but for me it was the first time I’d seen her in over 3 years, almost 4 in fact.
It’s strange how for a long time I had wondered how she was doing, whether things had changed for her following her failures at college. As you may recall, I had been the one dissenting voice back in 2016 keen to get to the root of what she herself wanted to do with her life after leaving school, but in return all I got were tears, refusal to reply and subsequently telling the self-proclaimed resident childcare expert her version of what had happened in that discussion. I didn’t even raise my voice once, just merely asked if the gymnasium course choices were what she really wanted, or were the ones foisted upon her by her mother. Apparently it’s too much that an Englishman here could have an opinion or valid input on any of this. The die was cast, I don’t even remember the course choices specifically now, but one of the major subjects was English, which I knew wouldn’t test her at all, since she knew it better than most smug Danish teachers of English possibly could. I sensed if she got on this course, it’d be an easy ride, or leave her terribly disinterested.
How right I was proven one year later, when, having been ignored for months, I received a call at the airport, just as I was about to board a plane for Germany – telling me that there was a parental meeting at the gymnasium to discuss our daughters’ failure. The very next day. Parental chess pieces were being played, with the intention of showing me as an uncaring Dad and the Mother as wonderful. It was obvious she’d known about this meeting well before, but had sprung it on me at the last possible moment to test me. I asked the right questions and found out that actually she had PASSED the year, but the teacher had said she had not socially developed enough and was therefore recommended to redo year 1. The resident childcare expert agreed. I did not. Vehemently, I argued that the opinion of a teacher, especially one with a vested interest in earning maximum course fees, shouldn’t be heeded. She had passed the year and should move on. We all have bad years but if we pass, we learn from the experience and progress. I also guessed that if she redid it, it’d be even more demotivating and demoralising than it had ever been before.
The meeting occurred without my presence, apparently. I have visions to this day of my daughter nodding feebly as the two CondescenDanes decided upon her future.
Well, what a great decision it was. Not that I knew anything about it. Only when an application was made for me to pay uddanelsesbidrag – a bizarre thing that doesn’t even exist in most countries, where a parent must pay maintenance to an adult offspring to study. In this case, I discovered by asking for proof of her course, that she had dropped out of the previous course and was now about to begin a completely new one in a subject I wasn’t even allowed to know, at a different gymnasium. Two years wasted then.
The clues had been there on facebook, where in addition to #ÅretsMor2016, 17, 18, 19 and 20, the professional student Aunty who knows every trick in the book when it comes to getting money from the state for doing nothing had been taking her climbing and other apparent attempts to boost her confidence. The only confidence I have would be her ability to train anyone on how to avoid ever getting a job. So it has been proven. My daughter has learnt from the best of the worst.
Anyway, fast forward and since this Corona scam, education institutions have been closed, so god knows how she’s doing. Was she going to complete the course? Will she? Who knows. I know only this – I recognised her by her body language. After all blonde females aren’t always distinguishable here. In a way I’d hoped she’d moved on, gained confidence, changed her outlook. No, she had not. I suppose I shouldn’t be totally surprised when you consider the familial influences she is surrounded with. The most painful thing is knowing you can’t do anything to help her. I am sorry. Sorry and very, very angry with the resident childcare expert who obviously isn’t doing the nurturing job as wonderfully as she thinks she is.