Books for Everyone!

12 May 2022

Nanny State Nutcases

Today I decided that — if need be — I can live and work indoors and take my frivolous jaunts to the Outer World, wherever I choose to go — for another year or two.

For as long as necessary until the collective madness of the Nanny State Nutcases is over.

My only difficulty will be in knowing when that blessed day or time arrives.

I’d mistakenly believed that the COVID scamdemic would put an end — POOF — to the Nanny State.

How wrong I was!!!

Nanny’s noose merely tightened on the human species!

On days like today, when the crises of my country run together into ONE HELLUVA CRISIS (until the cycle starts to repeat itself, ad infinitum), I am reminded of the character-building interactions that I had, many years ago, with a woman of my age group. She was a very frightened and overly educated person who used her university training as a security blanket and bulwark against dealing with the real world in a realistic way.

Every day brought a new crisis: the food supply, the water supply, the energy supply, the air supply, the endangered species re-supply. Everything was in short supply, except for her fears, angst, dismay, despair, and overall sense of dread about what was going to happen next.

She spent her mornings as a new-mom, in the home, glued to the tube, listening to those ghastly Morning Shows that I never watched and never will. She alerted me, weekly, on the telephone about the most recent and alarming statistics from, and revelations, by:

The CDC, The EPA, NHTSA, Consumer Reports, the AMA, ACOG, The American Academy of Pediatricians, FDA, NOAA, the WHO [which, I learned in 2020, is not the rock band].

That bureaucratic handcuffing of the Citizenry was constructed, slyly, through taxpayer-paid gaslighting and emergency phobia-ing, enacted, via un-elected commissars, administrators, directors, and pompous pinheads.

There are presently millions of them, like cockroaches, crawling all over the body politic. They are part and parcel of the Regulatory (Hidden Taxing) Class, who, along with their cohorts, the Media and the Corporations, profited, and still profit, from the red tape which is more like a red-tapeworm in that body politic.  And those code-enforcers intend to keep their gig going for as long as possible.

Ronald Reagan famously said that the closest thing to eternal life on earth is a government program. The diagram indicating where to wash your hand is directly from the CDC website.

During those five or six years of my distant past, I felt deeply concerned by the spectre of this formerly self-sufficient co-worker, going down a path of co-dependency that would lead only to more problems in her personal life. She’d bought completely into the Nanny State, and was becoming a nutcase of measurable proportions. She was one of the very early advocates for: the more warning labels and government-provisos, the better!

And, she believed that everyone else was “off”. They needed straightening by her and by the Do-Gooder Guvmint.

Projection of her neuroses onto others was just the start of a lifetime of anxiety and trepidation that soon stalked this Do-Gooder at every turn. She came to rely on me as a friend to provide her with some sort of stability, but I could not stay the course with a gal who refused to look in the mirror — and own up to any problems of her own.

She had no problems. It was everyone else who was troubled, in need of her help, desperately awaiting her advice . . .

This kind of mental distress and emotional disturbance has become institutionalized. The nuts are truly running the asylum. I, for one, want no part of watching the patriots of this nation putting strait-jackets onto these prigs who have gotten rich, very rich off of monkeying around with the very basics in life.

Life is so precious, so resilient, and so defiantly out of reach of anyone who attempts to lasso it with their hare-brained rules, anti-individual regulations, and anti-liberty provisos — that the vital force — known as life — proceeds apace, far far ahead of these frightened rabbits and their dingbat guidelines trying to control people and the flow of life.

It’s a wonder that such human beings risk the opportunity of being human at all.

Humanity is, in itself, a wonderment because of and despite the rude flaws and fizzled-out failures amongst us; despite the ghoulishly corrupt goons goading us toward hating them; despite the piles of manure we must plow through to get past the screw-ups of the Authorities.

We are, after all, made in the image of God, not in the image of the enviro-creeps, or the latest kook consortium that tries to glom the capitalist profit-scene in America.

And speaking of capitalist profits, I was able, this afternoon, to take part in that marvelous, and marvelously stimulating activity of give-and-take, aka the win-win. I went in search of the Portuguese flannel that I love to wear in the form of a nightgown, made in Portugal. The usual businesses were all sold out. The replacement items told me that the long, cold winter of last year, 2021, shall be surpassed by a long, cold, cruel winter of 2022.

When recycled soda bottles are the latest in fabric technology (and a stated incentive for the Millennial to buy that garment), the world of apparel — as seen onscreen — is nearing its logical lunacy.

With the aid of my special digital cloaking device, I discovered a new e-tailer called Rocky Mountain Flannel. Located in Banff, Alberta, in the heart of the Canadian Rockies, this company is gearing up for the next run of cold weather, imminent the end of August.

I felt exhilarated at the prospect of buying merchandise that is designed and manufactured by a small business that’s been around for about 25 years. During that same quarter of a century, the Nanny Hags — in Canada, and in the USA, have tried to crush small business in the slush-fund interests of The Corporation. The Globalist Corporate Whores, aka the Politicians, have succeeded only in despoiling their own souls, their own legacies.

The nation of America shall survive the concerted, coordinated, and the currently chaotic assaults by its own Government upon liberty, democracy, justice, the Constitution, and the sanctity of life. I believe that even Canada, which has been so horribly maligned by its own elected elites, shall prevail over those wusses and whack jobs and weirdos who detest their own magnificent country.

We’re all in this fight together, to shove freedom back at the viragos and gigolos of Government. In my home state, California, a place I’ve resisted calling home for too many years, I’m enjoying the ride of watching the nutcases crack their heads against each other.

Come November, I shall enjoy the soft feel of lush Canadian flannel, just as those glorious geese fly south toward my sovereign land. I might sport some buffalo plaid while venturing forth in my new Bronco on a frivolous jaunt, somewhere Out There.