There’s a food revolution going on. From Elizabeth Nickson at elizabethnickson.substack.com:
We will restore the very ground of our being
Did none of the Masters of the Universe take Marketing 101? I know it’s a quasi-discipline, much déclassé, for the peons in flyover country who sell widgets to live, but it does determine the world. What do you want to buy with your disposable income? What food, what house, what car, what do your children lust after? Shopping decisions determine the shape of the real world, where real things happen. For some people, it’s their only opportunity for self-determination, and take it they will. This fundamental human characteristic is described perfectly by a graph, a chart. The Marketing Curve has been around for fifty years, and its one assumption is that human desire is the primary driver of the economy.
We are divided into forerunners, innovators, early adopters and late adopters and it holds true for digital products, politics, vacations, and health decisions, across the board. You cannot overturn it, you cannot say, “people must like this and do this because I am willing to spend a few billion to brainwash them.” No. Because some renegade soul will say, “I want to move to the country and raise heritage beef rather than swan around New York, London, Paris, Munich going to night clubs and working for a multinational where I destroy the weak and help the strong.”
And then all of a sudden there are handfuls of people hiving off the swarm and starting their own thing. And then, presto, like last year, 66 percent of Americans would, if they could, move to the country or a rural subdivision and become more independent of the murderous cabal that forgot the marketing curve. That this is the exact opposite of what the U.N./W.E.F. want – which is to force people into fifteen minute prison cities with rural areas left to carbon sinks – is just another example of reality flowing like water around fascist-erected obstacles.
Harold the Brain engineer bud moved to Pineland just in time as he knew that BiteMe Brandon would be the end of the line for FUSA.
Still not happy about a 15 minute arbeit macht fweedom fwies camp going up in the next county over where niece lives.
We’ll tool around in our Elonmobiles going putt putt until the charge runs out.
Maybe paint the windmills and solar panel eyesores up in a unicorn rainbow Benetton color scheme!
All the dead birds from the blades could be taken to the peoples burn barrel of egalitarian equity.
Yes we can!