The Tale of Miranda, the Anti-V**xer
Mar 30, 2021 06:42:58 #
A young woman named Miranda, who was born in a barn in the literal sense, and never v******ted, was one of them. When organic farming was prohibited and most of the land was taken over by large companies using mechanized agriculture, she was forced to move to a small village where she subsisted doing odd jobs and occasionally teaching art classes. She had learned drawing and painting sill as a child, and was quite talented; she could sing very well too.
She had a fake v*****e certificate that looked for all purposes almost identical to the real ones, and while a bio-test could determine that she had not really taken the shot, or the “jab” as it was popularly called, she was careful never to be in any position that could require any kind of test.
For a few years she and hundreds of others like her had subsisted in this manner, but it was not ideal and never easy. Because before at least the renegades could live freely in their own communities, under their own rules, but now they had to hide and wear masks and follow dictates like everyone else, so what was the point? If they could not be free in any case, why not do like all the others and just take the jab and be done with it?
Miranda thought about it sometimes. But she had promised her parents – who had died in a shootout with the police – that she would always remain faithful to their ideals. And so she refused to compromise. She knew, or hoped, that the current tyranny could not be maintained forever. She wanted to believe that it would be possible, one day, to be free again.
Finally, they got her. It was her own stupid mistake; she was outside, a routine patrol was approaching and she had left her fake certificate at home. This would not normally happen, but she had recently bought a new jacket and had forgotten the certificate in the pocket of the old one.
Walking around without a certificate was illegal, so they had to scan her arm, finding no signs of v******tion, and later a second test found no trace of antibodies in her system. Unable to explain the reason, or to produce a valid v*****e certificate – she knew now that the fake one she had at home would now be microscopically analyzed and would not be useful any longer – she was taken to the local jail, and later to a federal prison.
“There is an easy way out of this”, said Captain Antoine Huxley-Ehrlich, chief of the V*****e Resistance Unit. “Just take the jab, and you’ll be free.”
“Never”, replied Miranda. “You’ll have to do it by force.”
That was an option, of course, and legally possible with the recent change in the constitution. But it was not what Antoine wanted. No, she had to freely choose the v*****e. Not only because otherwise she could have become a martyr and inspire other rebels, or because people could start to think that there really was something bad or sinister about the v*****e; but because he firmly believed that winning by persuasion was better than winning by force, and he was convinced of his own righteousness.
He could not understand her stubborn refusal – hadn’t he, like all others, voluntarily taken the v*****e? As a member of the upper classes, he reminded her, he was not required to do it at the time; and yet he had volunteered. Why? Because he believed in law and order, but, most of all, because he believed in the v*****e.
He was sure that sooner or later he would be able to convince her that her uneasiness with the medication had only been caused by the trauma of her childhood experiences, living in a harsh rural area and watching her parents die as criminals fighting the law.
But Miranda was indeed very stubborn. She refused all the options she was given. She preferred jail to v******tion and denial to compromise. She even refused to see a psychiatrist. So she lingered in prison for months and months.
One day, the warden brought to her cell a new book that she had requested from the prison library – Civil Disobedience, by Thoreau. As she began to read, she found a handwritten note stuck between the first pages. “When you get your dinner tonight, ask for salt”, it said. “A friend”, it was signed.
Who could that be? She was puzzled, as it was years since she last had any contact with anyone else from her former community. But later that evening, as the warden brought her dinner, she meekly asked if she could have an extra amount of salt. The warden didn’t betray any sign of recognition or suspicion; she just brought her a small white salt-shaker. There was nothing unusual about it, but when Miranda opened it, from the bottom, she found a small magnetic key and another note inside.
The note explained that the key would open her cell door, and that all the security guards had either been bribed or put out to sleep. She could safely escape. Further instructions indicated how to reach a cabin in the woods nearby where she would be able to join her colleagues from the resistance movement.
She waited until midnight; when all was silent, she tried the key. It worked. She slowly walked out of her cell, then out of the prison, undisturbed.
She followed the instructions to cover her face with a mask and her hair with a veil to avoid recognition. She was afraid a patrol would stop her as she left the city, as police presence was constant and sometimes there were curfews, but all the time she saw only a small group of policemen that she had no trouble evading.
She walked for several hours; the note had been clear that she should avoid any form of public t***sportation. It was already morning when she reached the destination informed, a few miles outside town.
She knocked. No one answered. But she turned the handle and realized that the door was unlocked. She entered, very quietly, as if afraid to disturb the eerie silence. Finally, she saw a man sitting in an armchair, his back turned to her. He was wearing a dark jacket and a black fedora hat.
“So you’re finally here”, he said. She seemed to recognize the voice, although she couldn’t quite locate it. Was it perhaps someone from her old community?
Then he turned towards her. It was Antoine Huxley-Ehrlich.
It had been a trap, of course. The idea was to raise her hopes only to crush them, as an additional form of torture, an elaborate cat-and-mouse game. Also, now that she had tried to escape and join a rebel movement, she could be accused of s******n and other charges. She could easily be tried by a military court and condemned to death.
And that was exactly what happened.
She was offered a full pardon in exchange for v******tion, but still she refused. If she had to die, then she might as well die on her own terms. Like Saint Joan or the early Christian martyrs, she’d rather burn at the stake or be thrown to the lions than renege.
They could not convince her to get the “jab”, but they also did not want to turn her into some sort of hero for a cause, even if a crazy and hopeless one. So they decided that the execution would be done in secret, and the official story would be that, since she had refused several times the v******tion, she was never immune to the v***s and had finally contracted the disease.
Today Miranda will be shot. She refused all offers for public announcements of regret and even a last meal. She also refused the blindfold; she did not want anything to cover a single part of her face.
As the executioners raise their rifles, Miranda is not afraid. Her golden hair flutters in the wind, and she looks up at the soldiers with a confident smile. She knows that they can kill her body, but they cannot touch her soul.
And as she waits for the bullets to slowly arrive, Miranda sings a song that she remembers from her childhood, a song that her mother taught her and perhaps she also sang before she died:
And when you come and all the flowers are dying
If I am dead, as dead I well may be
You’ll come and find the place where I am lying
And kneel and say an Ave there for me.
https://www.zerohedge.com/c****-**/great-unv****d-fictional-look-what-lies-ahead
She had a fake v*****e certificate that looked for all purposes almost identical to the real ones, and while a bio-test could determine that she had not really taken the shot, or the “jab” as it was popularly called, she was careful never to be in any position that could require any kind of test.
For a few years she and hundreds of others like her had subsisted in this manner, but it was not ideal and never easy. Because before at least the renegades could live freely in their own communities, under their own rules, but now they had to hide and wear masks and follow dictates like everyone else, so what was the point? If they could not be free in any case, why not do like all the others and just take the jab and be done with it?
Miranda thought about it sometimes. But she had promised her parents – who had died in a shootout with the police – that she would always remain faithful to their ideals. And so she refused to compromise. She knew, or hoped, that the current tyranny could not be maintained forever. She wanted to believe that it would be possible, one day, to be free again.
Finally, they got her. It was her own stupid mistake; she was outside, a routine patrol was approaching and she had left her fake certificate at home. This would not normally happen, but she had recently bought a new jacket and had forgotten the certificate in the pocket of the old one.
Walking around without a certificate was illegal, so they had to scan her arm, finding no signs of v******tion, and later a second test found no trace of antibodies in her system. Unable to explain the reason, or to produce a valid v*****e certificate – she knew now that the fake one she had at home would now be microscopically analyzed and would not be useful any longer – she was taken to the local jail, and later to a federal prison.
“There is an easy way out of this”, said Captain Antoine Huxley-Ehrlich, chief of the V*****e Resistance Unit. “Just take the jab, and you’ll be free.”
“Never”, replied Miranda. “You’ll have to do it by force.”
That was an option, of course, and legally possible with the recent change in the constitution. But it was not what Antoine wanted. No, she had to freely choose the v*****e. Not only because otherwise she could have become a martyr and inspire other rebels, or because people could start to think that there really was something bad or sinister about the v*****e; but because he firmly believed that winning by persuasion was better than winning by force, and he was convinced of his own righteousness.
He could not understand her stubborn refusal – hadn’t he, like all others, voluntarily taken the v*****e? As a member of the upper classes, he reminded her, he was not required to do it at the time; and yet he had volunteered. Why? Because he believed in law and order, but, most of all, because he believed in the v*****e.
He was sure that sooner or later he would be able to convince her that her uneasiness with the medication had only been caused by the trauma of her childhood experiences, living in a harsh rural area and watching her parents die as criminals fighting the law.
But Miranda was indeed very stubborn. She refused all the options she was given. She preferred jail to v******tion and denial to compromise. She even refused to see a psychiatrist. So she lingered in prison for months and months.
One day, the warden brought to her cell a new book that she had requested from the prison library – Civil Disobedience, by Thoreau. As she began to read, she found a handwritten note stuck between the first pages. “When you get your dinner tonight, ask for salt”, it said. “A friend”, it was signed.
Who could that be? She was puzzled, as it was years since she last had any contact with anyone else from her former community. But later that evening, as the warden brought her dinner, she meekly asked if she could have an extra amount of salt. The warden didn’t betray any sign of recognition or suspicion; she just brought her a small white salt-shaker. There was nothing unusual about it, but when Miranda opened it, from the bottom, she found a small magnetic key and another note inside.
The note explained that the key would open her cell door, and that all the security guards had either been bribed or put out to sleep. She could safely escape. Further instructions indicated how to reach a cabin in the woods nearby where she would be able to join her colleagues from the resistance movement.
She waited until midnight; when all was silent, she tried the key. It worked. She slowly walked out of her cell, then out of the prison, undisturbed.
She followed the instructions to cover her face with a mask and her hair with a veil to avoid recognition. She was afraid a patrol would stop her as she left the city, as police presence was constant and sometimes there were curfews, but all the time she saw only a small group of policemen that she had no trouble evading.
She walked for several hours; the note had been clear that she should avoid any form of public t***sportation. It was already morning when she reached the destination informed, a few miles outside town.
She knocked. No one answered. But she turned the handle and realized that the door was unlocked. She entered, very quietly, as if afraid to disturb the eerie silence. Finally, she saw a man sitting in an armchair, his back turned to her. He was wearing a dark jacket and a black fedora hat.
“So you’re finally here”, he said. She seemed to recognize the voice, although she couldn’t quite locate it. Was it perhaps someone from her old community?
Then he turned towards her. It was Antoine Huxley-Ehrlich.
It had been a trap, of course. The idea was to raise her hopes only to crush them, as an additional form of torture, an elaborate cat-and-mouse game. Also, now that she had tried to escape and join a rebel movement, she could be accused of s******n and other charges. She could easily be tried by a military court and condemned to death.
And that was exactly what happened.
She was offered a full pardon in exchange for v******tion, but still she refused. If she had to die, then she might as well die on her own terms. Like Saint Joan or the early Christian martyrs, she’d rather burn at the stake or be thrown to the lions than renege.
They could not convince her to get the “jab”, but they also did not want to turn her into some sort of hero for a cause, even if a crazy and hopeless one. So they decided that the execution would be done in secret, and the official story would be that, since she had refused several times the v******tion, she was never immune to the v***s and had finally contracted the disease.
Today Miranda will be shot. She refused all offers for public announcements of regret and even a last meal. She also refused the blindfold; she did not want anything to cover a single part of her face.
As the executioners raise their rifles, Miranda is not afraid. Her golden hair flutters in the wind, and she looks up at the soldiers with a confident smile. She knows that they can kill her body, but they cannot touch her soul.
And as she waits for the bullets to slowly arrive, Miranda sings a song that she remembers from her childhood, a song that her mother taught her and perhaps she also sang before she died:
And when you come and all the flowers are dying
If I am dead, as dead I well may be
You’ll come and find the place where I am lying
And kneel and say an Ave there for me.
https://www.zerohedge.com/c****-**/great-unv****d-fictional-look-what-lies-ahead
Mar 30, 2021 07:35:38 #
This is a great representation of the way things will be . Just a dam shame. You can blame the Lefty's for every bit of this mess. Lefty's are no more than a disease.
Mar 30, 2021 09:03:16 #
ACP45 wrote:
A young woman named Miranda, who was born in a bar... (show quote)
Thanks for posting this. 🙂
Mar 30, 2021 09:20:48 #
ACP45 wrote:
A young woman named Miranda, who was born in a bar... (show quote)
Just when you think you have read some of the most unhinged paranoid lunatic manifestos something like this comes along and proves you wrong.
Mar 30, 2021 09:26:06 #
Kevyn wrote:
Just when you think you have read some of the most unhinged paranoid lunatic manifestos something like this comes along and proves you wrong.
What does it prove, kevvyyy, exactly what does it prove???
Mar 30, 2021 09:27:00 #
Kevyn wrote:
Just when you think you have read some of the most unhinged paranoid lunatic manifestos something like this comes along and proves you wrong.
Miranda had courage and would not bend for the tyranny people like you will so readily accept. You would wear your chains proudly.
Mar 30, 2021 09:52:27 #
Rose42 wrote:
Miranda had courage and would not bend for the tyranny people like you will so readily accept. You would wear your chains proudly.
It is a silly paranoid fantasy, the product of needless fear provoked by vile propaganda.
Mar 30, 2021 11:50:05 #
Kevyn wrote:
It is a silly paranoid fantasy, the product of needless fear provoked by vile propaganda.
Uh-huh. You would have worn a smile on your face to the gas chamber.
Mar 30, 2021 11:57:36 #
Kevyn wrote:
It is a silly paranoid fantasy, the product of needless fear provoked by vile propaganda.
This is not meant as an insult Kevyn, just a statement of fact. Marx coined the term "useful idiot," a term for a person who is used by a cause's leaders to propagandize for them without fully comprehending the cause's goals. There are many people on this website who are useful idiots and it appears that you are just one of them.
Mar 30, 2021 12:15:00 #
Parky60 wrote:
This is not meant as an insult Kevyn, just a statement of fact. Marx coined the term "useful idiot," a term for a person who is used by a cause's leaders to propagandize for them without fully comprehending the cause's goals. There are many people on this website who are useful idiots and it appears that you are just one of them.
And you, Parky, are 100% correct about that.
Mar 30, 2021 15:49:20 #
Parky60 wrote:
This is not meant as an insult Kevyn, just a statement of fact. Marx coined the term "useful idiot," a term for a person who is used by a cause's leaders to propagandize for them without fully comprehending the cause's goals. There are many people on this website who are useful idiots and it appears that you are just one of them.
I suppose the polo v*****e was a step to tyranny the stupid sheeple were not wise enough to avoid. How about the smallpox v*****e? A few years ago these were seen as what they are, lifesaving scientific and medical advancements that protect people around the world from horrible preventable disease. What happened to so many people that they can be led to believe that the entire modern world is a giant conspiracy out to get them. It used to be that isolated tribes that rejected medical care and believed in the magic of witch doctors and voodoo priests were the ones needlessly leaving their people victims. Now we have voodoo priests and witch doctors here convincing their cult that life saving v*****es are bad, their names are Trump, Alex Jones and the now blazing dung fire in hell, Limbaugh.
Mar 30, 2021 17:09:01 #
Kevyn wrote:
I suppose the polo v*****e was a step to tyranny t... (show quote)
Now that shit right there is funny - far from true, but funny.
😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂
Mar 30, 2021 17:20:24 #
Kevyn wrote:
I suppose the polo v*****e was a step to tyranny t... (show quote)
What happened to so many people that they can be led to believe that the entire modern world is a giant conspiracy out to get them?
The lies of the media and the lies of the politicians, that's what. But especially the lies of the media. When journalism dies, so did all trust. We can now only do our best to figure out what is true and what is not based upon our experience and knowledge. It is not always obvious, but we do have our eyes and ears to guide us.
Mar 30, 2021 19:09:38 #
Kevyn wrote:
I suppose the polo v*****e was a step to tyranny t... (show quote)
Kevyn, what do you see when you look at this chart?
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