Attribute to L. Neil Smith’s The Libertarian Enterprise

“ANCE in your pants would be a pity.
Wear your nosies in the city.”
—Richard Matheson, ”Dance Of The Dead”

 

Babylon Five was a science fiction television series that premiered in 1996 and ran for five years. Featuring its own rich, full backstory, complex characters, and dramatic political situations, it became a welcome alternative to the military-socialist wet-dream Star Trek and the mysticism-laden and mythology-based Star Wars. With only occasional exceptions, I enjoyed it very much and still think about it a lot today.

One important element of the series’ five-year story was the Psi Corps, humanity’s reaction—or at least that of its various governments—to the discovery that telepathy is a real thing. Telepathy was regarded as a threat—just imagine how the hidden allies and friends in high places of Jeffrey Epstein and Ghislane Maxwell might feel about their guilty secrets being up for grabs—and a brutal, fascistic police force, the psicops, was created to keep telepaths in line.

An essential part of a psicop’s uniform—or a licensed telepath’s accoutrements in general—was a pair of dark, close-fitting gloves. You almost never saw a psicop without his or her gloves. At some point it was revealed that the gloves were intended specifically to prevent human, physical contact between telepaths and other people.

As a writer and a thinker and a human being, I have spent almost all of my life defending and promoting individuals and individualism. My major, in college, was psychology, and I was drifting rapidly toward anthropology.

One of the things I learned about back then that has stuck with me all these years is a phenomenon known as “mammalian contact comfort”. Built into the fundamental nature of warm-blooded creatures that give live birth to their offspring, suckle them, and are covered with fur (even those who have lost their fur to evolution), is a need and desire for physical contact with other such creatures.

Experimental psychologists have studied this phenomenon which deeply affects our health. Mothers and their babies both derive vital satisfaction from such contact. Lovers and their paramours, friends and their comrades, all need to touch one another. The craving for contact comfort is universal and crosses lines between species. Lions adopt puppies. I have had cats all my life, and as they lie beside me and purr, my blood pressure diminishes as I pet them.

There is no scientific justification whatever (no, I am not changing the subject) for what people are being urged, shamed—even forced at gunpoint—to do under the heading “Covid-19”. This is a microorganism less dangerous (look at the numbers) than the common cold or a moderate flu season. Yes, a relatively small proportion of people, the very old or those with pre-existing medical conditions, die from it—as they do every year from colds or the flu—but it is, in most important ways, a hoax, a fraud, a cynical con being shoved down our throats for purely political reasons.

Sometime in the 1980s, I wrote what I call my “Maidenform Bra” speech in which I imagined what society—what life—would be like without taxes or economic regulations. It was a powerful rhetorical instrument—exactly what the Libertarian Party needed if they hadn’t been too timid for it—and whenever I gave it, asking my listeners to imagine what they would do, how they would feel, if their lives were not limited or diminished by government intrusion, by taxes and regulations, grown men would often find tears in their eyes.

Thirty years later, I voted for Donald J. Trump. He was promising some of those things, and, when he was elected (shocking the elites who think they own us into what amounted to a mass psychotic break) and actually began to deliver on those promises, producing the healthiest, most powerful and prosperous economy that history had ever witnessed anywhere in the world, I felt completely vindicated. Everything I’d written in the 1980s about economics and freedom was being vindicated, and I was very happy.

The elites who think they own us were absolutely determined that the Trump economy must be destroyed at any cost. Prosperous subjects are unruly subjects. Kidney Punch Number One was the corona virus hoax. Enough Americans had become cowardly and risk-averse over the past few decades that it was an effective blow against civilization and wrecked the economy. Kidney Punch Number Two were the communist riots (masquerading as civil rights demonstrations, aided by Democrat politicians and totally corrupt news media) that turned our most magnificent cities into smoldering war zones.

A great American, Leroy Jethro Gibbs (look him up) is famous for having said there’s no such thing as a coincidence. Could it be a coincidence (that just “coincidentally” serves the evil interests of Communist China and the elites who think they own us) that these civilization-wrecking events occurred at the very moment humanity was emerging, blinking a little, into the light from the darkened dungeon of the ten thousand-year-old coercive state?

Despite the best efforts of ignorant and stupid criminals like that prosecutor in St. Louis (trying to punish a couple for a commendable mammalian threat-display that probably saved a dozen lives) the riots will be contained by individuals ready to defend themselves, and voters who will remove corrupt Marxist-Sorosist politicians from our culture. The effects of Covid-19, however, are more profound. Denied mammalian contact comfort and the ability to see people’s faces as they talk, some Americans are going insane. Violent crime is on the rise, and with it, suicide. The lives of an entire young generation are being distorted beyond recognition, perhaps forever.

The whole thing stinks of Saul Alinsky (look him up, too) and his repulsive disciples—most of whom you know. It is a vicious, calculated attack on the human psyche, worldwide, and treason (I don’t know any other word for it) against our entire species.

Vile specimens like Nancy Pelosi, Charles Schumer, Adam Schiff, Jerrold Nadler, Gavin Newsome, Andrew Cuomo, Gretchen Whitmer, Willard Romney, John Casich, and their media palace guard, are exactly the same collectivist enemies—the enemies of individual liberty—that our fathers and grandfathers fought and killed in Korea and Vietnam, and in Germany and the Pacific, as well.

From now on, I’m fighting back against this farce. I have worked at home since the 1960s and I don’t get out much, especially since a stroke stuck me in this wheelchair. But I will not wear a mask, anywhere. I will shake hands whenever I can. When it’s appropriate I will hug people. I will breathe on them and let them breathe on me. I demand the right to be a mammal. I demand the right to be human.

Join me. I want my civilization back, goddamnit. It has to start somewhere.