I came along I wrote a song for you And all the things you do And it was called "Yellow"
Well, it was
Few events have become more synonymous with cowardice than the Uvalde tragedy. 400 officers on scene. Suspect confined to single room with hostage children. One hundred and seventeen minutes pass before a Border Patrol special weapons team makes entry and kills the suspect.
To this day, the ensuing public outrage is palpable, understandable, and, in hindsight, a little perplexing. Because it was but one tragedy among many; some contend just another notch in the globalist gunbelt. MK-Ultra innuendo notwithstanding, the piety expressed by onlookers hasn’t aged well.
Yes, there were children killed. But where is all that professed courage now when it is even more desperately needed? Where are all those would-be heroes who would bravely breach the door and take that murderous bastard out?
I don’t know.
But it sure as hell seems that doors of the CDC, the WHO, the AMA, the DOJ, and so many others are unmolested. Not with the pace they are killing our elderly, our parents, our spouses, our friends, and – yes – our children.
Yeah, those Monday morning quarterbacks seem curiously silent as of late. They’re silent when it comes to holding their allegedly elected representatives accountable. They’re quiet when it comes to demanding investigations into our various coups and subversions at home and abroad. Few spoke out against the suspect protocols mandated of us. Most meekly co-signed the “Behind every mask is an idiot, I mean, a person who cares.” (Full disclosure, I grumbled, objected, and still wore the face diaper on occasion).
Mute voyeurs, they watch as all manner of RICO prosecution-worthy travesties play out. School and workplace shutdowns. Remdesivir (they even prescribed that shit to our late kittens). PCR “tests”. Ventilators. Stat-fudging and suppressing. Hiding of effective alternatives. Cancelling of dissenting voices. Bio weapons masquerading as vaccines. All this executed with one eye towards profits and another towards killing.
Proxemics isn’t an issue as no place is immune. America has become Uvalde writ large. Sure, you could bet your ass my brave fellow Americans would charge into that classroom. Just ask them. But don’t bet your life.
A good deal of literature has concerned itself with what constitutes courage and cowardice, as well as the interplay between the two; often, how they coexist within the same individual. Today’s hero is tomorrow’s coward and vice versa.
Admittedly, I tend to be obnoxiously contentious in confronting what I believe are wrongs (backstory available upon request). Still, mine is a situational and transitory pluck, the kind perfectly willing to recant to save oneself, but upon finding he is going to be burned anyhow, recants the recantation. Martyrdom is suspect and sainthood does not enter the equation.
My daily test of character: Is my grit true? Or will I fold as easily as a cotton napkin? Even my bravado of candor does not preclude the intermediary filters: is it safe to say? Is it safe to say in the manner which I say it? Am I obliged to say it? Is it worth saying? Do I have an audience? WTF am I saying? These are serious considerations in an era where objective truths are deemed prosecutable lies. When the simple acknowledgment of a gender can get a person fired.
Still, I am braver than most, if only in acknowledging my cowardice. That’s why I didn’t brand all the Uvalde officers cowards then, and why I sure as hell won’t now. At least, no more cowardly than the millions cluelessly enabling the globalists’ genocide-in-progress.
I wanted to hear from those cops. To have them explain themselves and what they were thinking.
Was there some kind of inexplicable mutual suppression of initiative? Had someone told them to stand down? Were they just simply that terrified? What would they do differently if given the opportunity?
Perhaps their answers might offer some insight into the lack of action being undertaken today.
In the meantime, an identity crisis.
We are the champions? We are Spartans?
No. We are Uvalde PD.
I know my comment is a little presumptuous, to be speaking out for a country. But regarding the red-pilled and black-pilled among us, to me it feels like we all know the day is coming when what to do will be either clear, or at least, the time to take some kind of action has come.
My friends and I talk about it every week. We all know none of us is armed enough to stave off forever what we believe is coming. We all know we don’t have enough canned food or even ammo to last very long. But we keep acquiring and storing whatever we can, and if we can’t, evaluating the day to see what action we can take to prepare, anyway. Why? Because to do anything at all helps push back on hopelessness or even despair at what we see around us every day, or more so, what ***so many people*** are still blind to every day.
Deep down, most of my friends have a basic understanding, that they do not like to talk about, that at this time, if we all stood as one, we would all be mowed down as one. There has to be some kind of plan, or situation in which now, suddenly, we finally have more to gain taking action than we have to lose. As we watch those arrested on J6 continue to be tortured in their wrongful incarceration, and even Trump can’t seem to buy his way out of some of these conflicts, we know our families need us now, alive and present at home; not in jail where we can’t dissent, or stockpile, or network, or even encourage one another. However the time IS coming when they will need us even more—to take action.
We’re waiting. Not for nothing—we can feel it coming. Most of us can, anyway. At the risk of coming off cheezy, I can hear Mel Gibson playing both Mad Max and William Wallace’s characters, crying to ready fighters. “Hold!”
Meanwhile, the good men are frustrated by the lack of action, because by their own self-definition, good men take action. It is so important that they do not despise themselves when wisdom says to wait, stay steady, observe—check on the resources again and see if a new opportunity has presented to prepare in any other ways not possible the week before. We all know the time is coming, and it is this year or next year—whatever it is.
Hold!
I hear you Dean.
I also wonder where some might draw the line. Many don’t know or want to - that there should be a line - one which I believe has already been crossed.
I cannot tell you here what I’m prepared to do or what I wish could be done in an organised time slot.
Wrong think! Right?
Keep up the valued writing.