So a mob of protestors went into The US Capital and some dude put his feet up on House Speaker, Nancy Pelosi’s desk. Viking Man did his sack dance in Idiocracy’s End Zone. Let’s evaluate this objectively. Is this worse than the “fiery, but mostly peaceful” debacles we saw in Seattle, Portland, Wisconsin and other places? For The Central Scrutinizer, the answer is !YES! by several orders of magnitude.
Unless you work as a janitor at The US Capital, your life was pretty much unchanged when the Capital was breached. As some guy at least a thousand miles away, my life was far more inconvenienced by 9-11. The USA Patriot Act actually made it harder for me to treat my sinusitis with the real, 150-proof Sudafed. We now have Sudafed ID. In some states, it requires less bureaucracy to vote twice than it now requires for me to get Sudafed once.
So why was the whole drunk party where Pelosi’s speaking podium grew legs and walked out of there with Florida Man worse than CHAZ or Antifa Park over in Portland? If you are The Central Scrutinizer, you have NPCs to control. The easiest way to cow those people into pathetic obedience is via the power of symbolism. Symbol-jamming doesn’t occur across much more bandwidth than having Viking Man address The House Chamber. The Gentleman from Valhalla, regardless of whether he had been properly recognized without a wanted poster; announced. “Donald Trump Won!!”
Symbols are not reality. They are, however, designed to convey a shorthand picture thereof. NPCs are frequently high time preference people. They want it, when they want it; without the headache of sober consideration. They frequently till-deer reality. The Central Scrutinizer loves this about the little sweeties.
If you ever went to court for reasons of participation or observation, you saw the symbolism of your subjugation hard at work. “Oyez, Oyez, Oyez!” Cries the bailiff. “Those with official business before The District Court of Bumfvck, North Nonentity are admonished to now draw near. For His Honor, Judge Cletus T. Hicktooth now prepares to call the court in session.”
The simple translation here is that you, Good and Worthy Citizen, are a rotifer. Far better it be unto you if you never annoyed the important ones enough to have official business before are exalted and noble district court. You are being systematically conditioned to forget Judge Cletus expels gas via his anus an average of 25 times a day and puts his trousers on one leg at a time just like the rest of the human race. Judge Cletus is stage-managed to appear before you as a celestial wielder of unchallengeable power.
It just doesn’t quite work anymore if Viking Man shows up bare-chested except for a wolf pelt across his shoulders and starts pounding away at the judicial podium with a plastic Thor’s Hammer manufactured by Hasbro. “Odor in the court! Odor in the court! I object!” He announces. “You are now admonished to bow down and worship Woten and Freja or I will drink mead from your flabby suburbanite skulls!”
A serious military analysis could argue The Western Roman Empire was effectively dog food after The Goths crushed several of their best remaining legions at Hadrianople in 378 A.D. Yet the date given for the officially official fall of Western Rome is 476 A.D. They literally spent a century being considered an empire without the convenience of a combat-effective military to keep Attila and Gaiseric from having a party whenever they chose to assemble the 4th or 5th Century A.D. version of a flash mob.
So why claim that The Western Roman Empire had booted up no further than The Blue Screen of Death in 476 A.D.? What made this the year that inertia finally ground to a halt? The fact that nobody was still willing to play Let’s Pretend. Romulus Augustulus had to concede to Odoacer or have his head mounted on some bored barbarian’s humble spear. So he offered to crown Odoacer Emperor and bring him into the firm.
Odoacer turned it down as a property unworthy of a brute force LBO. At that point, everyone had to acknowledge there was nothing even left to steal or rape. It was done when the symbols were no longer worth displaying. When the symbols were torn down, the Romans got the point that there was no longer a Roma Aeternum.
Thus, the image of Viking Man yelling his drunk berserker war cry from the rostrum of The House of Representatives was visceral. Congresswoman Oscasio-Cortez claims she was afraid she would be killed. In a philosophical and metaphysical sense, she is not merely hyperbolizing. Those symbols beclowned were a boundary between the anointed and the dirty, smelly sinners. That anointing oil requires a suspension of the belief that Viking Man could never put his boys ashore near the harbor serving the monasteries of official Amerikan power.
Slam the lid down hard. Find everyone even tangentially associated with Orange Comb Over Hitler of The Gnu Yawk High-rise and hound them into silence or non-existence. And maybe the system buys a few years to get everyone to forget Viking Man the way they pretty much forgot other glitches in the matrix.
Most people don’t get it when I am crass enough to say. “Christa McAuliffe had blew eyes. One blew one way, one blew the other.” They’d just think I was !RACIST! for opaque remarks about The Jewish Day Off at The World Trade Center. And not even for the proper reasons. Kids these days!
History can perhaps be paved over. Then you can replace the truth with a ghetto duplex. Or maybe you can while those symbols still convey disingenuous meaning. When it all breaks down, and nobody believes the intimidation any more, Emperor Romulus Augustulus is no more august than some hide-wearing barbarian emerging from The Faustian Woods.
This is when a horde of very frightened NPCs will attempt to unilaterally cancel their Faustian Bargain with The Central Scrutinizer. This might even require a Carthaginian Peace to accomplish. Maybe Congresswoman Ocasio-Cortez had the correct instinct when she feared for her life.