Bad Hombre Calamari
Surrounded by the walking dead with ticking clocks.
They lined up by the billions when told and asked for the mRNA menu.
As they chose their poison the images flashed in their minds. The ones of spastic dancing nurses in empty hospitals flanked by goofy graveyard interns flaring their hands and gyrating their hips on their “break” while scoring four times their normal salary. Paid to dance for Chinese facial recognition AI software apps while eliminating patients they could have treated instead.
The sounds of hissing ventilators rising and compressing with the familiar ominous melody of nightly news terror broadcasts spoke to them.
The aerial shots of Cuomo’s murdered pensioners being buried erratically in New York parks in pine boxes sent shivers up their spines.
The late-night dancing celebrities whoring themselves for a genocidal machine convinced them to sacrifice their body to experimental science fiction.
They didn’t question the absurdity of any of this intentionally manipulative imagery. It was all part of an operation to make the mRNA menu look appealing, exhilarating, and even liberating.
Yes! Pfizer it is. Or…maybe…Moderna. But Jannsen’s is just one? The more the better right?
A double course of Pfizer, perhaps even three courses!
It’s a trusted name fully engrained in their subconscious from years of watching cable television. Brand recognition eases their anxieties. A calm reassurance subdues them as they hear that gay voice actor assert that it’s all brought to them by, Pfizer.
They peruse the menu side by side, young lovers, and ancient couples, unaware they’ve been trauma bonded with Malthusian technocrats through the most horrific global psyop in human history and now equate injections with partial liberty restoration, safety, and good health.
None of them turned to their better half and uttered anything like, “What are you having? I’m having the calamari in my circulatory system.”
None of them replied, “That sounds good honey, but I’m having the Bell’s Palsy with the first dish, and a side of pulmonary embolism with the second. I’ll have the calamari after my booster.”
Those who refused to even enter the mRNA buffet were slandered, harangued, threatened, and discriminated against by the pharmakeia sorcerers and their bureaucratic foot soldiers.
The coordinated machine of death went Don Logan on the hesitant and skeptical.
Get the jab. Do it. Yes! Yes! Yes!
I’m going to have to turn it down.
You’ll turn this opportunity yes! Want to keep your job? Get the jab!
Want to see your grandma, travel anywhere, and keep your family health plan? Do it. You’ll do it, yes you will. You will!
I don’t want it.
You’ll get the jab. You will do it. Three of them. Yes! Yes! Yes!
Watch the Feature Length Documentary Died Suddenly here:
Those poor souls lay on their backs on the embalmer’s cold metal tables getting calamari tweezed out of their veins and arteries like a post-mortem seafood factory.
Having their blood drained slowly with black coffee grinds mixed in because that’s the only speed impure blood drains from the victims of Big Pharma assassinations.
Brought to the planet by, Pfizer.
There are some bad hombres in this world, but these hombres aren’t the ones being shuttled across the border in the millions by Narco gangs working with the Biden administration and the Clinton-Soros controlled child protective services paedo trafficker Wayfair Yandex industrial complex.
As bad as all that is, and as brazen as they are advertising their paedo agenda everywhere they can get away with it, including high fashion advertising campaigns, they don’t fill blood vessels with calamari.
Still, we can’t look away from either atrocity and still carry a clear conscience. And yet the media and all the digital nodes of gormless hand-picked nonces with the largest platforms are completely muted on all of it.
The silence from celebrities, the media, and those of the who-shall-not-be-named cancel kingdoms is deafening. Imagine if Balenciaga insulted the alphabet cult or stated obvious biological facts about only two genders. The pearl-clutchers would be fainting onto their digital chaises uttering their shock and horror in their best Blanche DuBois accents.
Oh, never in my life could I have imagined such a shocking display of trans violence uttered by a reputable clothier. I should certainly think this calls for a good dose of cancellations. Oh heavens my, did you see that colored man’s Deathcon 3 tweet? Surely the ADL must be alerted at once to this colored man’s murderous intentions toward the Jewish people. Oh my! (Clutches pearls harder. Faints onto chaise.)
Acceptable social mores scoreboard:
Using a beta soy nerd son of Democrat party operatives to launch a crypto exchange to launder political money for the Biden regime and the Clinton-Soros paedo child trafficking industrial complex and fund a war against Russia while defrauding millions of investors? Regime communications outlet the New York Times will host the beta soy nerd at an upcoming conference of highly reputable public figures that include the cocaine comic of Ukraine who benefited from this blatant fraud that may go completely unprosecuted.
The U.S. has moved light years beyond Banana Republic status. A whole new category of a corrupt dictatorial surveillance police state with child trafficking, open borders, paedophilic reverence, and corporate socialism, with absolutely no shame about any of it, will need to be invented to accurately label what the nation has become.
Amazon Republic? Walmart Republic? Paedo Republic? Pharmakeia Paedo Psyop Republic of Corruptistan? Who's down with PPP?
Back to the scoreboard.
Child porn and paedo advert campaigns of high fashion brands? Silence.
Pharmacide, hospicide, injecticide, demographic demolition for depopulation? Keep demanding people line up for the shots.
Felling a little blue? Don’t worry, the state will help you kill yourself. Companies produce commercials celebrating suicide as “compassionate.” MAID in Canada, for now.
Mass uprisings against a totalitarian tyrannical state in China that could throw a wrench in the global technocratic one-world agenda? Silence.
A Democrat rigs the Arizona Governor’s race for herself against her opponent who was favored in all polls by double the margin of error and the response by the media and both parties as usual is…shhh.
Using the word Jew in any semiliterate context regardless of intentions? A $1.5 Billion net worth is vaporized in one day and the IRS is now going after the offender.
Point out this curious discrepancy in cancel kingdom “justice” and ye dear reader are a raging anti-semite!
Find out who you’re not allowed to criticize and all that. Proving them right only makes them ask more questions which might involve the group being criticized for silencing and sabotaging those who ask too many questions.
The blowback of forbidding certain speech has that Streisand effect.
No group or individual should ever blanket shame upon anyone while using the suffering of their own people to place themselves beyond the reach of question or criticism. It will only invite more criticism. The more power they wield, the more they will be criticized, and the more enemies they will make, and maybe that’s the plan.
It’s always been one of those fascinating curious hypocrisies, an all-purpose victim shield to hide behind. Before the question is even uttered the verdict is cast upon the heretical inquisitor.
With less than 0.2% of the global population why in certain industries that control information, finance, entertainment, and media, are there so many J-…
Nazi! Holocaust denier! Anti-semite!
The acts of atonement for verbal sinners can include donating more money to the outraged victim groups’ profiteers or taking a highly publicized visit to a holocaust museum.
Silly you! There’s only ever been one Shoah don’t you knowah?
But it’s a goldmine for the ADL and politically it’s a useful cudgel for the regime.
Not good for Jewish people, but a goldmine for the hate industrial complex which is always in need of manufacturing outrage from perceived “hate speech” any chance they can. It’s a billion-dollar industry that can never get enough money or call for enough censorship. The corporate donations flood their coffers and the regime gets to point the political finger at their opposition and demand the blacklisting of anyone who counters their narratives.
Nazis! See we told you they were Nazis! They must be completely de-platformed at once!
They’ll screech the usual blather while sending billions more to actual Nazis in Ukraine and virtue signal their loyalty to said Nazis with a Ukraine flag in their attention network profiles.
Like everything else in our world, it’s all such a predictable, laughable farce and a distraction from a genocide presently happening in plain sight for anyone willing to look with honest eyes.
The bad hombres are the mad scientists conducting this slaughter, conjuring up our 5G interconnected smart everything world, including human bodies filling up with calamari for future science class formaldehyde jars.
Prospective artifacts for genocide historians to hold up in biology lectures.
“They pulled these white long stringy clots from humans just after the mass vaccination program that saw over five billion injections administered.”
Somehow it seems that future mRNA vaccine genocide deniers will not be banned from the Internet or dropped by Balenciaga and Adidas. They will not be forced to visit any museums or donate money to any victim funds. The IRS will not target them for tax evasion and bankruptcy. The pearl-clutchers of the cancel kingdom will not faint onto their chaises when anyone denies the vaccine genocide currently underway.
What genocide? These outrageous claims by conspiracy theorist anti-vaxxers are the worst form of disinformation. All the official fact-checkers agree.
After weeks of hustling through a personal great reset with little time for reflection or writing, I’m now in a loft overlooking a five-story Narco stash house. All the windows have curtains and the structure hasn’t been painted since Mexico defaulted on its sovereign debt. Expensive SUVs come and go every few hours.
There’s an old rusty Ford pickup in an overgrown field behind the building surrounded by palm trees hugging a stucco wall on the perimeter of the property with razor wire dancing on top.
Things you wouldn’t see in highly manicured “first world” countries being primed for health passports, food supply control, energy grid destruction, and economic suffering.
All around me the concrete shells of future condo towers explode toward the sky of this once-sleepy Mexican port city.
The workers are putting their jackhammers and ladders away. It’s only high noon but little by little the city is going quiet.
In twenty minutes Mexico squares off with Argentina halfway around the world in Qatar.
The sports ball scene offers a momentary respite from the cult of death that reveals itself in everything once individuals have liberated their minds from their prepared psychological prisons.
I pop the cap off another Pacifico and squeeze a lime wedge into the bottle and wait for the earth to rotate for a few minutes more so the sun reappears from behind a pillar to warm my face.
On Kraków time it’s late but somehow my liver knows it’s daytime because a fourth Cerveza has everything visually processed through that soft and spacey lens.
Apparently, the body doesn’t produce an enzyme the liver needs to break down alcohol quickly before the late afternoon. Hence the daytime buzziness after only a few.
My beer-drunk soul captures a moment of reflection on the science fiction of the calamari clots emerging from the sudden death prize winners I watched in that documentary Died Suddenly on the transatlantic flight over.
Observing all the other passengers on the flight, snoring, releasing gas beneath their blankets from the chicken thing served for dinner in peasant class, the white glow of mindless Hollywood entertainment flickering on their catatonic faces. Six out of every ten might one day have calamari veins and they have no idea, but they know for sure that The Rock is a badass action star, and isn’t that more important?
At Schiphol and Salt Lake City, passing through the terminals, weaving past other human beings it felt like meandering around the walking dead. Every public space now has that aura of a ghostly ticking clock above each human body in motion.
For millions, it’s only a matter of time before they meet the embalmer’s table and get tweezed like a cephalopod factory, and most of their surviving kin will chalk it up to ill health and fate.
“It was just your father’s time to go kids. Now get dressed. We have an appointment to get our flu shots.”
What more can be said about such horrors assailed on humanity by these bad hombres?
I try to clear my mind of all this death, mandated, encouraged death, celebrated as liberation from depression, embryonic death celebrated as liberation from the joys and responsibilities of bringing a new human life into this world, liberation from motherhood in service to the soulless corporate machine, or iatrogenocide death completely ignored by the indoctrinated masses, the walking dead.
With the sports ball match starting soon the rooftop pool will clear out. After more time in the sun on the balcony, I’ll sport my yellow speedo and head up there to bake more of my pureblood skin in the tropical sun.
I’ll stand near the rooftop’s edge looking toward the great blue pacific garbage patch now drowning with needles and discarded masks and observe the condition of my own human body in motion with drunken self-utterances.
Ahhhhh. It’s so bleating hot.
Maybe in the evening, I’ll get dapper and head to the new Italian restaurant in the Marina for a three-course meal.
Word on the Carretera is they have pretty good calamari.
I find this astonishing.
This is amazing.
Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!
Purchase The Good Citizen side of calamari.
Fixed Income Pensioner Discount (honor system)
Student Discount (valid .edu email)
Thanks for sharing.