HOW’S IT FEEL, BITCHES?

Very few good things will come from the Plague.

But even the darkest cloud normally has some glimmer on its lining. And what I can see is just such a glimmer of wondrous schadenfreude – that nuclear-powered German word which means taking pleasure in someone else’s misfortune.

Here you are. Good and upright citizens to a man Karen. I will call ye Karen Inc – which covers both He- and She-Karens.

And the Plague is among ye. Now, whether you believe in the Plague is neither here nor there. The government has decided the Plague is to be our guiding light for the foreseeable future and that is that. Your opinions are not relevant.

Anyway, as part of its Plague Plan, the governments have endowed those despicable racist thugs, jokingly referred to as “the police”, with powers they could have only dreamed of once.

All of their Christmases have come with the Plague.

Now I know conspiracy theorists will say this was always the plan, ie. control and subjugation of the populace. But these theorists tend leave out the bit about WHY this was always the plan and to what end.

I think they imagine Australia was once some kind of Freedom Paradise basking in the glow of Saint Ned of the Kelly, and culturally informed the legendary resistance of the Eureka Stockade.

Yeah, nah.

We Australians have always been as compliant as tail-tucked curs to our overlords. There has never been a need for greater police powers and greater police resources to deal with our submissive population.

Why would there be? It’s not like we do anything that warrants such draconian policing. We’re the ones who ask permission to protest, remember? And if we’re told no, then we accept that and don’t protest. We’s good servants, massah!

It’s why our cops treat us like shit. It’s not like we are ever going to do anything about that treatment, is there? They remain free (and are indeed encouraged) to beat us, degrade us, strip-search us, fine us, abuse us, and demean us – all the while telling us it’s for our own good as if we are naughty children in need of the strap.

Conversely, there has ALWAYS been a need for greater independent oversight of our police, but that will only upset their vile unions, and no government wants to do that.

So bit by bit, the cops get more of everything. Hell, they even produce their own propaganda and feed it to the media to avoid being asked any awkward questions by intrepid journos.

But they needn’t worry about that. It ain’t ever gonna happen. The police will always resist being held to account for their crimes and behaviours, and we will always allow them to resist any oversight into their shit. It’s how Australia works.

So nothing new here. We all know that.

But what is new to this paradigm is the Plague.

In the space of a very short year, the members of Karen Inc, who had been applauding their empty heads off as the police set about trying to destroy one percenter motorcycle clubs, are now getting a taste of what it’s like being in one of those clubs.

All those mewling boot-lickers who took to their social media feeds to righteously declare that “If you’ve done nothing wrong, you have nothing to worry about” are now getting a nice tasting platter of what our cops are really all about.

Of course, anything and everything is and will always be justified provided we’re told it’s in the Public Interest. It’s how our compliance is assured. In this case, the Public Interest is wrapped up in Public Health Orders, ie. Stay at home, get tested, wear a mask, etc.

And as always, it is left up to the cops to interpret these orders, and for some fat, cholesterol-ridden uniform to waddle up before the TV cameras and commence threatening the population with “shows of force” and demands (not requests, mind) for “compliance” or else.

Suddenly, Karens Inc. are the new outlaws. People who had hitherto had nothing to do with the cops – apart from cheering them on as they bravely raided evil clubhouses and arrested pool tables and stripper poles – are being subjected to rude, officious, smirking cops behaving like utter fascist arseholes.

And Karen Inc. don’t like it.

And that makes my schadenfreude hum.

I have quite a few mates still in outlaw clubs. I have quite a few mates who have left outlaw clubs over the years (and not because the cops were making it hard), and to a man they are having a wry giggle at this new dynamic.

“See?” they chuckle. “How you like them apples? How you like having your movements restricted, being under constant surveillance, being endlessly questioned as to where you’re going, where you’ve been, what’s in your bag/car/bike?”

The general public is now seeing what it is like to live with the police assumption (or operational directive) that you are doing something wrong all the time.

See also

The Pulpit

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NEW TYRES? OH, DIDDUMS…

2 March 20210

And because you cannot be trusted to do the right thing, you will be jack-booted and fined and harassed into obedience, and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.

Submit, obey, comply. That is all you need to do, and that is all you will do.

Feels like shit, huh?

Yeah, well that’s what people in motorcycle clubs have been putting up with for years.

These bike clubs have been sold to you as criminal organisations, which the police must crush because the very structure of our society and your holy safety is at stake.

That, like everything else that comes from the police, is a lie.

Speed kills is a lie. Speed cameras save lives is a lie. If you have done nothing wrong, you have nothing to worry about is a lie.

Outlaw motorcycle clubs are all filled with criminals and are organised crime covens is also a lie. Their own research proves it.

Click here and see for yourself.

So when you, Karen Inc, are being monstered by the cops, and you glance nervously around to see if anyone is witnessing this outrage on your Civil Liberties, and you happen to see some large, tattooed bloke whose eyes are sparkling with good humour (you won’t see his grin because of the mask, of course), know that no help will come from that person.

As the police rummage through your shopping bags and listen to your lame-arse excuses as to why you are out and about when you should be at home, know that your predicament is providing great joy to someone like me.

And be content with that – because that’s what your eager compliance has created.