See the Light…

I love the smell of nihilist/marxist fear in the morning.

God saw that the light was good, and he separated the light from the darkness. – Genesis 1:4

When I was a kid, growing up on the edge of the great boreal forest that stretches the better part of east to west through the northern latitudes of North America, my best friend and I had a trapline. It ran a few miles along the length of the Saskatchewan river east of the forks where the north and south tributaries meet after a thousand kilometres of travel from their headwaters in the Rockies.

It wasn’t fancy or complex. There was no mink or marten and even weasels were scarce. But we had squirrels in abundance. So we trapped them until until our hands, saturated by the oil from their pelts, smelled like them.

Squirrels are funny creatures. They talk a lot and we quickly learned their chatter served two purposes: one, to alert other creatures to our presence and two, to give up their position to enterprising young trappers.

The beauty of the squirrel is that its penchant for sweet food makes it lose all sense of caution. It chatters incessantly as you get near but once a snare is set and baited with a bit of apple it loses any and all sense of good judgement.

We noticed early on that we could catch an entire scurry of them on one pole with multiple snares. The little tree rats would literally trip over the corpses of their buddies to get to a piece of apple on the other side of the next trap. It wasn’t unusual for us to set a group of snares then return an hour later and find two, three or four kills hanging from a fresh set on a single pole.

Liberal behaviour is similar in nature. They talk a lot, mostly virtue signalling to one another, and in the process make themselves vulnerable to simple things like the truth. They become particularly vulnerable at higher levels where power and money are involved. Like the proverbial apple used to bait our snares they will literally trip over one another to get to what’s on the other side. Snare be damned.

Indeed, money and power are like a drug to these people. They’ll do almost anything to obtain it: lie, steal, cheat, whatever it takes. But mostly they’ll just lie.

The ‘fake news’ controversy reminds me of this panicked and disorganized type of dishonest behaviour. The liberal media and their handlers, having gone after the apple with zeal, now find their necks stuck in a piece of brass wire. Unsure of what to do they struggle. What they don’t understand is that it is not the wire that necessarily does them in but rather, the panic and the struggle that ensues when they realize what has happened in the first place. You see, the apple is on the other side of that wire. In order to get to it they must go through. And since they cannot live without the apple then there is only one possible outcome.

Indeed, the left and their bought and paid for whores in the media could make all of this stop tomorrow by doing one simple thing: give up the apple. But they won’t because they cannot. They are driven in a sort of pathological way towards their own destruction. They are unable to stop because they are addicted and fearful of what might be revealed if their power is lost.

I won’t go into the nature of this behaviour too deeply because Brandon Smith did an exemplary job of doing so here. But I will say this. The light is being shone on some very dark places that heretofore have never been held to the light of day. The ruling elite would be well advised, if they can find a way to remove their necks from the brass wire, to read the graffiti on the colosseum walls before it is too late.

“Light and darkness exists within each one of us. Each of us has the capacity to see and understand the difference and so we are given the ability to choose upon which path we will walk. Thus all of us would do well to remember as we choose our route that the truth, which these days is written on the subterranean tunnels of the web, will be illuminated one way or the other. There is no stopping it now.”

The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls. – Simon & Garfunkel