The arrival of a healthy beautiful third grandson ought to be a joyous event. It is, sort of in spite of my walking into my own local hospital on defcon five alert, feeling like a militant spy entering hostile territory.
Ask and ye shall find. Here it is.
http://www.informationliberati…
I walk past the H1N1 policy statement in the elevator room of parking garage, then the smoke Nazi sign at the exit. The entrance then a corridor of paintings of past prestigous doctors who contributed to and founded the hospital. I get mixed feelings here. They saved my son, my Dad but I also got pegged as that mental patient by some clueless twenty-something social worker who is a member of that “compliance indoctrinated” Clockworked Orange generation. Yes, I do admit that statement deserves a book. It is part of my adventures with socio-Mom saga. I do snicker at the thoughts of these now dead doctors when presented with this current ask your doctor for theme of western for profit first medicine. It is far beyond who pays for what, it is who decides or can best decide what IT is. My wife feels guilty for having a cough. She has been that way since this September after being harrased into taking a regular flu shot because she “works in health care”. Two sets of paperwork to refuse the swine flu shot.
Huge credibility gap here when escapees of highly placed federal government agencies equate swine vaccines with global eugenics efforts.
Fitts+depopulation is the Google.
Me? I am the militant. What did happen to live and let live. No, in this society anybody can marginalize anyone else for not following the accepted protocals. It is actually your God annointed right to tell everybody else how to feel, what to think and if you are high enough on the food chain make up your own law, social policy and PC norms.
So I hold my grandson, bond with him as I did with his older brother. The whole family is unemployed and their insurance terminates in March. None of us give a flying fuck about this dying globalist controlled empire. We care about escaping to our magic of the woods. A Zone free of Prius driving control freak Pricks.
“Why worry about the bears dear, you know I talk to the horses.”
“Fine, but what about the rednecks.”
“OK, pack the nines.”
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I know how you feel about entering hospitals. I have 5 grandchildren and they were all born in various institutions that made me mad and sick just entering them. They were all pumped full of nasty vaccines within hours of birth. One grandaughter is autistic and her sheet of inoculations received would fell a horse. I drive a Pious but I’m not a Purelle control Prick, I’m just a fool whose intentions are good. Don’t pack the nines the rednecks are not as scary as the control freaks. I lived with them for four years but they were mostly fishermen who are more philosophical then the inland rednecks. Then again I was a young hippie and the rednecks and hippies in my small town merged. Both tribes seemed to pick up the worst traits from each other especially along the lines of being sexist pigs. So I escaped to the urban. May your grandson ride horses and be free.