Sudetenland Tales by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview

Sudetenland Tales

Page 5

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Far beyond the bustling centers of lucrative commerce and creative culture, there exists a remote and largely overlooked region, where the rhythms of life move at a pace dictated by “experts” funded by the Uniparty libtards, who are sufficiently bright in following the timeless norm of those being paid for the pronouncement of their “expertise,” which is 98% of the time to find the findings the funders favor, (FFFF), which is yet-to-be-proven-once-right rather than recognize the quiet demands of nature and industry. This land, rugged and untamed, stretches across vast expanses of rolling hills, dense forests, windswept plains, and urban disasters; its contours shaped by centuries of erosion and the Sudetenland urban sprawl, and the skies remain an unbroken canvas of shifting hues, from the deep blues of midday to the fiery oranges of dusk.

The people who call this place home are as repellant as the poisoned land itself. Like misaligned magnets, they are bound by traditions that have been created by four generations of democrat “management,” their dependent and leeching customs sprayed on the walls of public areas. Here, community is not an abstract concept but a tangible farcical force. Neighbors rely on one another in ways that modern convenience has rendered obsolete elsewhere; manifesting strongly in the plethora of