New Years Resolutions
I have never been so angry as I am right now. I put my left slipper on my right foot, I am so angry. My morning breakfast of oatmeal and prunes sits, ignored. My usual morning coffee grows cold, and my morning scotch sits, quietly melting the two ice cubes in my ‘Toronto Tourism’ themed tumbler. Even my adorable house cat, Mister Whiskers, has retreated to a place of safety: he is pretending to sleep upon the window sill above the heat vent.
New Years is a time to make new resolutions. To reexamine ones life, to contemplate the future, to improve. But that is some evil tradition put over us by the evil non-devil worshipers of Christian culture. No more! No more Christmas means more Holiday, and no more Christian stuff. No more is working, having a job, a good thing. Better to be a victim, and justify high paying jobs for activists. Better to embrace the culture of your choice that is not Christian, and better to be an activist of the twenty-first century stripe: out for yourself, using the excuse you are bettering others. So, as a stick in the eye to the heteronormatives, here are some of my resolutions:
Smoke more. Having been exposed to the socialist health care system in Canada; added to this the horror stories from friends, acquaintences, and co-workers, I think dying sooner is better than dying slowly in a state retirement facility. I know of three people whose lives were saved because of luck, not health care; and I have suspicions that others died because of this bolshevik health care system. No main stream media will investigate this, as they are too busy performing fellatio upon each other. So, smoke I will. Being retired and under the care of some Obama quality ‘professional’ does not seem a sensible course of action.
Exercise Less. The street criminals in Toronto, those darlings of the left, brought in to ‘rub the nose of the right in diversity’, are more numerous each day, more bold, and more dangerous. The trade off between taking a jog versus becoming a victim of a career criminal has become rather clear. Better to do some push-ups inside your locked down residence, than venture out into the Balkans that is Toronto.
Cheat on my taxes. My control over my tax money, supposedly through the democratic process, is gone. Activists have a demonstrated track record of not following the directives of management, minsters, nor parliament. And the heirarchy, which is thoroughly rotten with progressives with their own spending agenda, does not correct but instead makes things worse, more corrupt, and more distasteful. The media, those whores, do not do their job, why should I? The state has adopted a posture that is antagonistic to my culture, my religion, and my work ethic. Why should I support them? No, I embrace the underground economy.
Prepare for the Revolution. Indeed, the aristocrats, who wear the skins of Bolshevism, are setting themselves up for a rebellion at the hands of the working class. By working class I mean people who work, who work to pay taxes. It is well documented what happens when an aristocracy moves to oppress the proletariat, the bourgeois. The activists think of themselves as leftists, when they are really the perfumed tarts who feed upon the wealth of those who create it. Revolution is coming, one to overthrow the aristocrats of activism. I am going to prepare for this event. I am going to continue to gather resources, recruit allies, undermine my enemies, and deny them resources.
Have a Happy New Year.