by Jim Kunstler
“If we hadn’t won this election we would have all been vaxxed to death and censored so no one could hear our dying screams” — Mike Benz on “X”
That reckoning you’ve heard about lo these many years? It’s here now. We’re in it. You just can’t see all the moving parts, and if you did, you might not understand how or where they are moving, and what they are fixing to do next. Aside from certain US senators playing their pre-scripted mad scenes for the cameras, a disquieting quiet blankets the swamp like a miasma. It feels like a long, still moment before some shaking of the earth. Everyone senses it and the guilty must feel it most keenly.
That’s why they are laying low and keeping their traps shut. Every criminal defense lawyer inside the beltway is burning the midnight oil (and racking up the billable hours, ka-ching). Meanwhile, where are their clients? No longer peddling alibis on MSNBC (MSNOW), at least. I doubt that John Brennan is even in the country. My guess would be he’s cooling his heels in Abu Dhabi, where the extradition protocols with the USA remain comfortably squishy to his advantage. (He reportedly became a Muslim while running the CIA station in Riyadh between 1996-99, just in time for 9-11. . . hmmmm. . . .)
Hillary Clinton has been keeping her pie-hole closed for weeks now while rattling around that big house in Chappaqua, NY, like a BB in a packing crate. Is anyone counting the wine-boxes coming and going from the place? It must be maddening to be HRC — but that new extra edge of prosecution terror would just be larding the lily, considering what Vlad Putin learned about her mental state way back in 2016: deeply unstable. . .diabetic. . . on tranqs. . . often plastered. . . bursts of rage. . . .
Comey and Clapper? No more cute pranks on the beach for Big Jim, 86 on the menacing messages in seashells and putting out Taylor Swift fan-boy Tik-toks. Was that some attempt to not be taken seriously? Like you’re some kind of overgrown, harmless child?
James Clapper, of course, would be voted most likely to flip on his compadres, if such a canvass were taken on Coup island. He was the first to publicly announce his lawyering-up in the Russia collusion affair. He never expected it would come to this, this ordeal of interrogation. . . his “good soldier” self plopped ignominiously in the witness chair. . . the odor of his own fear. . . the proffer (just tell us what really happened). . . the US attorneys appearing to leer at him, his house mortgaged to pay the attorney’s fees. . . what’s a poor boy to do. . . ?
Adam Schiff has gone radio silent. A miracle! Alas, the autopen pardon granted for his J-6 Committee doings apparently does not apply to matters such as mortgage fraud and wire fraud. He realizes with chills and sighs of despair that this ain’t no foolin’ around. People go to jail for these things. . . gulp! His attorney absolutely forbids any televised appeals to his fan-base, as if the glamorati of Rodeo Drive could do anything to stop what’s coming. Too bad Ed Buck and his magic checkbook are no longer around.
Even the seeming untouchables, Blinken, Jake Sullivan, Lisa Monaco, Norm Eisen, Mary McCord, Anrew Weissmann, Marc Elias must be listening hard for shoes to drop. They thought they had it made in the shade after 2020. They had the USA on a string, they thought. Home free. The trouble with the smarty-pants way of life is sometimes you out-smart yourself and your pants fall down. But all they can do in this late hour is induce a bunch of federal judges — recently imported from countries where justice means casting goat neckbones across the dusty floor of a mud hut — to gum up every executive action coming out of the White House with a poorly-argued TRO. They might as well be on a U-haul box truck throwing furniture off the back at a fleet of pursuing cop cars.
Mr. Trump is having sport with them now. Their crimes spanning the decade past are being bundled into one big coup case against the country, a color revolution on their own citizens and against “the democracy” that they never stop pretending to tout. If I am perceiving all this correctly, the days and weeks ahead will be as consequential a train of events as ever rolled down the tracks into Union Station, DC.
Looks like it will start this week with Robert F Kennedy, Jr., announcing the suspected culprits in the great autism question. That will rock the pharma industry to the very hairs on its roots. They have been trying since the 1980s to bury that idea that autism comes from anything they do. Next, the nation will have to ask: why did it take Mr. Kennedy only seven months to arrive at a plausible answer to the decades’ long autism mystery? Maybe because it was not such a difficult mystery to solve. Just that nobody wanted to collate and assemble the information. The answer was too ugly. So, they buried it on-purpose.
That set of revelations will segue soon enough into the reveal of facts, data, studies retrieved from the thought-to-be hidden files of the CDC, FDA, and NIH as to just how damaging the Covid-19 vaccinations really were. . . which will lead to answers as to how the various agencies under HHS (and likely the Pentagon, too) conspired to materialize the Covid virus in the first place, and that means the names and titles of actual persons who did it: the deputy secretaries of this and that, higher-ups, folks in dark NGOs. . . and all that will combine with new information about the supremely messed-up election of 2020, and so on down the long line of the many related, serial coup operations.
It’s one thing to reveal all that information, with its criminal overtone. And it’s another thing to get around to prosecuting it. I doubt you will be disappointed, though. Like I said. We’re in it. It’s happening. It’s roiling under the surface.
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