Perfect quote from a comment section:
In the 1982 Kurt Russell movie, The Thing, the alien creature invades and takes over the crew of a remote station one by one, and the crew cannot tell the difference between friend and foe, and Macready, the protagonist, says to a tape recorder, "Nobody trusts anybody now, and we're all very tired." And that's the essence of the social effect of a plague. The virus is a vehicle of undifferentiation, the catalyst of a mimetic crisis that pits every person against every person.
And everyone can be a carrier of the disease. Do I have a cold? Is it Corona? The mask itself works as a religious symbol, stay away, danger. A constant reminder to be afraid of others. Our leadership, the priesthood, tells us to be afraid of our friends and family members. They tell us not to participate in important cultural, seasonal gatherings, and this isolates us further. They shut down churches, the competition, so they would have a monopoly on our spirituality. And the new priesthood gives us scapegoats, the unvaccinated, evangelicals, white people in general, the police and J6 ruffians. If we get rid of what offends this angry god they call Science, the plague will go away. So people go after the unvaccinated, cajoling, persecuting, coercing them into taking this kind of religious rite. The vaccine. And this IS what is going on. We are still the same sort of simple, tribal, illogical, unreasoned humans we were 10000 years ago. Even those that are well learned are not invulnerable to the pull of mimetic desire, primitive religion. Their irrationality is just dressed up in rationality, but the core of it, the kernel of their belief is irrational.
And it is because of this, that I cannot trust anything said about the vaccine. Not from Alex Jones. Not from Tucker. Not from Fauci. Not from my doctor. It has been subsumed by irrationality.
And so here we are, with a new religion dressing itself up in the vestiges of Science, working at two levels, rational and irrational, with irrationality being the stronger side of this new religion. The atheists, I pity the fools, they are caught up in this to a greater degree. They don't seem to recognize what their behavior constitutes; they are not the independent overman Nietzsche wrote about. They do not walk across the tightrope, and they are everywhere in chains. A prison of language, thought and symbolism that guides their every thought and action.
And there are those of us that can see this. We can see the mob, the undifferentiated mass that repeats whatever their television tells them. And we see that they won't even trust their own eyes. They cling tightly to their beliefs, their anger at the scapegoats, because if they were to lose that, they would fall into chaos of reality. A narrative-less existence, where the rain falls on the just and the unjust, and there is no protection from calamity. No talisman against evil or disease.
And we, those that live in reality. We need each other. A Rambo, the lone hunter, is chased by his fellow humans. He lives in a cave in constant fear. He remembers his tribe, but they are gone. Is there a greater fear? A greater tragedy than being alone? Humans are a social species, and we need one another to survive, to thrive. And I can't go on like this. I'm tired of hating everyone. I'm tired of fighting the currents of this new religion that swirls around me, threatening to sweep me away at every instant. I cannot give in, and I cannot go on.
How am I supposed to decide on major medical decisions unrelated to the pandemic. How am I supposed to give my life, my children, my job the due consideration it deserves while society collectively loses its mind. We are unmoored from Christianity, and primitive religion has filled its place. Stupid. Ugly. Violent. Primitive religion dressed up as Science, like a priest wearing the skin of a dead animal conducting bloody rites that are meant to extirpate some evil. And worst of all, I think the priesthood of this new religion is so lost they believe actually themselves now.
dailystormer.su
www.theatlantic.com
