Weak minds and flaccid souls are putty in the hands of adept propagandists. From Brandon Smith at alt-market.us:
When I first encountered the concept of 4th Generation Warfare around 20 years ago I was studying the basics of propaganda and how it works. While the core issue is deeply disturbing on a number of levels I also found it fascinating – The ways in which governments and elitists have endeavored to control the masses while at the same time trying to avoid direct confrontation whenever possible.
With the advent of civilian populations armed with military grade weaponry and familiar with the training required for combat, elitist groups realized (post American Revolution) that dominating the public with military might was no longer a sure bet. They had to engage in a new kind of warfare using psychological attacks until they could weaken and disarm the populace. The new system of oppressing was about mental coercion; to make people believe that the authoritarian ideal is inevitable.
One part of this strategy involves using economic leverage for social engineering. A hundred years ago it was more about banks creating an endless series of debt mechanisms and controlling the issuance of currencies. Today, corporate elites are expanding – They want to change the very nature of money through Central Bank Digital Currencies (CBDCs). By extension, they’re also trying to influence public behavior by attaching “social justice” ideology to economic participation through ESG.
Twas the night before Marxmas, and all through the grad,
Not a worker was working; the market’s too bad.
The stockings were empty and that’s how they’d stay,
Because presents were rationed and coal went away.
The children were thinking of the people’s school,
Where they praise Comrade Chairman because that was the rule.
Momma was trying for kid number six,
To bump up her check and pay for her fix.
When out in the Square there arose such a clatter,
Was another spy caught? What could be the matter?
I expected to see another traitor denounced,
But instead, a man, his beard quite pronounced.
The moon shone bright on the snow on each home,
Global warming had chilled us, right down to the bone.
When, what my wandering eyes did see,
Was a detachment of men from the NKVD!
With a full bearded leader, his face not quite dark,
I knew in a moment it was Comrade Marx!
More rapid than eagles his enforcers came,
They knocked on my door and demanded my name.
They yelled “Open up, Comrade!” in their angry tone,
Suspicious that Bibles might be in my home.
They kicked in the door and what did they see,
But a computer, its browser on Moonbattery!
I said, “My neighbor, he did that, if you want to know.
“Me, myself, I love Barry O!
“For him? I cast ballots at least counting eight.
“My neighbor? Likes Limbaugh, and thinks he is great.”
His Tok, how it twinkled, his men, how they stared,
Looking at nothing, the whole flat was bare.
He said, “Well done, comrade!” with a pleasing tone,
“We go roust that bagger right out of his home.
“Your word is enough, all charges will hold.
“Traitor be shipped down Siberian road.
“For praying to Jesus and clinging to guns.
“And keeping money he makes from a business that runs.
“For voting for Mitt and LTC West.
“We shall give this traitor his much needed rest!”
With a snap of his fingers he beckoned his guard,
But not before filling my EBT card.
They spoke not a word as they went to work,
As they kicked in the door and arrested the jerk.
Handcuffed and bleeding, and dragged out in fright,
And thrown into a trunk in the middle of the night.
He sprang to his ZIL, and put it in gear,
Taking my neighbor away to just disappear.
But I heard him exclaim, just as off he drove,
“Merry Marxmas to all, and stay poor, dear tov!”
(h/t-to the original author, file dated 2012 when Mormon Mittens and Pauly the Beard threw the (s)election for the Grand Old Politburo branch of the puny Uniparty)
Wow!