Democratic License by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview
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Written by Lou Reed.
Now that I have the rapt attention I so disdain, I think it’s time to tell you what it is you are ruled by. The short answer is the jews as supplemented by their controlled moulinyan serfs.
Wall Street is financially supporting anyone; red hat, blue hat, Republican, Democrat, or Independent, who promotes moulinyan
“integration” into the US, Europe, and Australia. Why? Because they want more consumers with the funding to buy more of their products. White people are having 1.4-1.6 children per family, and consequently their numbers are declining with each generation. The innovation lacking, nickel and diming, Ivy League, non-entrepreneurial, bureaucratic bosses can’t deal with that, likening it to a depression, and for them it would well be. Haitians can’t buy much in Haiti, but when they get on the dole of a liberal White welfare state, the monopolistic, government co-operating businesses report increased sales and profits. Haven’t you noticed that the political rhetoric goes all over the place except one? No one of any substance wants to stop migration, lest they suffer the fate of Kari Lake.
Yes, and the longer answer can fill all the space the internet has and still not be complete. You see, there are a myriad of entities desirous of world power and subjecting the population to their will. They all have some degree of influence and they all have some degree of money. They can be confusing in the
sense that they don’t share all the same details; only sharing a difficult to detect direction, which is an intangible where compasses fail to work correctly, while the tangible bodies are used to being the unrequited beneficiaries of world “sympathy,”
excepting the jews who have always been quite clever about being overpaid and over-represented, while gathering disproportionate benefits from events they concocted. Picture a stock analyst’s chart. The daily movements go up and down, seemingly without consistent direction. However a simple line may be drawn through all of the days’ seemingly random movements, indicating a longer term trend consistently up or down, currently down.
So, why do all these bright Wall Street people support a welfare receiving, illegal invasion, which will eventually kill them, you brightly ask. The answer is simple. Wall Street today does not care about Wall Street yesterday or Wall Street tomorrow.
Since they don’t care about their own, don’t ask if they care about you. They work off a maximum five year plan, finding anything beyond that to be in the realm of unproven futurism, rather than any hard headed, bankable “fact.”
What the powers that be also have in common is their fear of what happened when the sixties rebellion worked, stopping a war, seeking quality rather than quantity of life, and also stopping Wall Street gains, while legislatively curtailing large
political contributions. Hell, America became great while embracing “big and cheap.” Those powers that be unanimously said; “We can never allow this to happen again,” and the US
UniParty fully supported by its leech beneficiaries, Israel and Wall Street, put things in place to do precisely that.
Since there are many possible takes on the American sixties, I was curious what a bot’s would be. I decided to ask Patsy, more fully discussed later, as Patsy seemed the most interest in appearing as being different. I asked that Patsy answer my question in the form of a book review.
Patsy said;
“Thank you for asking me about the American sixties in the form of a book review. First let me make a brief synopsis of the chosen book.
“Inherent Vice” by Thomas Pynchon
Part noir, part psychedelic romp, all Thomas Pynchon. Private eye Doc Sportello comes, occasionally, out of a marijuana haze to watch the end of an era as free love slips away and paranoia creeps in with the L.A. fog.
It's been a while since Doc Sportello has seen his ex-girlfriend, Shasta Fay. Suddenly out of nowhere she shows up
with a story about a plot to kidnap a billionaire land developer whom she just happens to be in love with. Easy for her to say.
It's the tail end of the psychedelic sixties in L.A., and Doc knows that ‘love’ is another of those words going around at the moment, like ‘trip’ or ‘groovy,’ except that this one usually leads to trouble. Despite which he soon finds himself drawn into a bizarre tangle of motives and passions whose cast of characters includes surfers, hustlers, dopers and rockers, a murderous loan shark, a tenor sax player working undercover, an ex-con with a swastika tattoo and a fondness for Ethel Merman, and a mysterious entity known as the Golden Fang, which may only be a tax dodge set up by some dodgy dentists.
In this lively yarn, Thomas Pynchon, working in an unaccustomed genre, provides a classic illustration of the principle that if you can remember the sixties, you weren't there . . . or . . .
if you were there, then you . . . or, wait, is it . . . hang on.
... . What ......