The Persecution of Tucker and Trump, the two most dangerous men in America

"In this life, we don’t get to choose our martyrs. We can only choose our principles. And America’s are at stake." - Tucker Carlson

I had almost finished my piece on Sir Ernest Shackleton and Bryan Johnson when I realized I needed to write this. I took a long walk this morning and went through some moves with my Eskrima sticks. Then, I sat down to write. That was 9 hours ago….

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You can listen to me read this essay here:

Donald Trump and Tucker Carlson are the two most dangerous men in America. Why? Because they tell the other side of the story. The side that “Permanent Washington”, as Tucker calls it, doesn’t want us to hear.

It’s the side of the story that resonates not only with Trump voters, but with everyone who still has an ounce of critical thinking skills left inside of their heads. Mostly, it resonates with those living in “fly over states” who are considered to be a bunch of boorish, uneducated nobodies undeserving of a voice since it would only prove how stupid they are. Certainly, the last thing “MAGAs” need is to get all riled up (like they did on January 6th), imagining that what they say or do actually matters. Black Lives Matter, Ukraine Matters, Trans Lives Matter, Pedophiles Matter—don’t call them that! They are MAPs, or “minor attracted people”.

Ordinary “common” folk, those living in city apartment buildings or humble dwellings in small towns and doing the dirty work—like producing the food during Covid and bringing it to the city folk who then ate it while complaining on social media about the mental anguish of hiding inside their homes from a ‘deadly’ virus—they are the ones who need to understand that dissent is dangerous. Serve your betters or be punished.

Trump is a laughingstock and Tucker is a spreader of dangerous disinformation and conspiracy theories. Anyone who listens to these voices and repeats what they have to say is put into the same pot with them and deserving of the same fate. And that fate for Trump is prison until he dies, if Permanent Washington gets its way. What will it be for Tucker? Probably the same.

Whoever you are, rich or poor, black or white, conservative or liberal, a country bumpkin or a city slicker, the persecution of Donald Trump and Tucker Carlson should worry you.

Every single American should be appalled that censorship is now the norm within America. Every single American should be up in arms that a former president and current presidential candidate—and the most likely one to win against Biden—is being threatened with what is effectively a life sentence for the same “crime” of keeping documents in his home, something that Biden and just about every other president up until this point, has done.

It should appall every single American that the most popular voice speaking in Trump’s defense, Tucker Carlson, has been silenced by the most powerful conservative network on cable TV, Fox News. And they continue to try to silence him by saying he cannot legally speak his mind on Twitter.

This silencing of Tucker by Fox should make it clear to EVERYONE that we are ALL under attack. Tucker was the most popular voice in TV—ever—and he was still fired by a company that was making a ton of money off of him. This tells us what we need to know—that it’s not about money in the traditional way we have been conditioned to think about money. If it was, Tucker would still have his job.

Americans have a hard time understanding this because we are conditioned to believe that money means success. Wealth is the standard by which we measure success. With this mindset, the elites easily manipulate us. Whatever money we make, whatever bit more of it we can gather into a bank account, it’s an illusion that’s it’s ours. And it has been ever since people started giving up control of their money to creditors. 80% of Americans are in some form of consumer debt and that doesn’t include mortgages. What if all that debt was called in?

Yes, money is used to control us, and it is no different with the slaves in Washington. Those elites controlling our politicians want us worrying about the stocks tanking and the banks seizing control of our dollars and how bitcoin will save us and why in the world would Fox fire Tucker when he made them so much money and how could they be sending billions to a lost cause like Ukraine.

It’s all a game to gain more power while we are left confused by what we perceive to be unanswerable questions. But it’s really quite simple. It doesn’t matter if this or that company fails, or if a Silicon Valley or a Swiss bank goes under. The elites own it all anyway. They create illusions of loss and gain, so we worry, while all they are doing is MOVING THE MONEY AROUND. It’s like they have a bunch of baskets where they keep the money. They may take a pile from one basket and put it in another, but the baskets are all in the same storehouse. And they own the storehouse. Not one penny ever leaves that storehouse—not one penny. It all stays in those baskets, under their control.

Washington hates Trump because he exposes their lies time and time again. Tucker takes Trump’s rough language and lays it out succinctly in his monologues for millions of people to tune in and listen to. For this, Tucker has made himself equally hated.

With Tucker’s 3rd episode just released on Twitter, he lays out perfectly why Trump must be silenced once and for all.

It’s been inevitable since February 16, 2016. That’s the day Donald Trump made a blood enemy of the largest and most powerful organization in human history: which would be the federal government…. The first rule of Washington is that no dissent is allowed. But somehow Trump didn’t follow it.

February 16th was the debate where Trump dared tell the truth to the entire country, indeed, the entire world, about the Iraq war.

“We should have never been in Iraq. We destabilized the Middle East. They lied. They said there were weapons of mass destruction and there were none.”

The audience boos Trump when he says these most honest words. Seeing this, Trump derides the audience, pointing out how it’s all doners and special interest groups.

“And the reason they’re not loving me is I don’t want their money. I’m going to do the right thing for the American public. I don’t want their money, I don’t need their money, and I’m the only one up here who can say that.”

Trump isn’t buyable. And so, Permanent Washington has no power over him. He is a constant reminder of how they have sold out and this must gnaw away at them like rats in their guts.

If you want to have a laugh, watch this short video that compiles some of Trump’s most scathing criticism of those within his own party. It brings home why they ALL hate him. The uni-party.

Remember—this debate happened in 2016, when the entire country was watching. We were all talking about it on Facebook and on Twitter. The algorithms had yet to separate us into echo chambers. Trump was still on Twitter. He revolutionized the platform where he spoke directly to the people, not from behind a mask with words put in his mouth. Yes, he made gaffs, he tweeted in the middle of the night when maybe he shouldn’t, but that’s what endeared him to people. I remember how refreshing it was!

Funny how now Elon Musk’s new chief executive, Linda Yaccarino, has made him promise that he won’t tweet at 3 am—or at least he will “aspire” to tweet less. It’s all a big joke at our expense.

Biden represents what they want us all to be. Obedient puppets on strings who will mindlessly repeat the lies that daily become more and more outrageous. Like the one Demi Lovato just whined about in an Insider article.

“Being non-binary is 'exhausting' because I have to deal with things like 'having to access the women's bathroom, even though I don't completely identify with it.’”

And-

"‘I constantly had to educate people and explain why I identified with pronouns ‘they’, ‘them’. It was absolutely exhausting."

Please. Millions of voices are being silenced and propagandists like Lovato are telling us we need to worry about pronouns and which bathrooms we use. I could tell “them” about bathrooms. I’d love to take Lovato back in time and sit her on one of the toilets I had to use as a child while traveling through the Soviet Union. Or how about if for a few days she had no more access to her special diet (vegan? I don’t know what it is, but I am sure it’s special) or her psychiatrist or her therapist or her trainer or her etc., etc.

People call what’s happening now communism. I have called it this. I have called it fascism. It’s both, but it’s more than that. It’s the triumph of the evil that is behind both, it’s the triumph of the evil that is behind capitalism, too. They are all just flavors manufactured by the same ice cream company. And I know some people won’t like hearing that.

Call it what you will, but once again, it’s simple, like money. It boils down to good vs evil. The battle between the God-given common sense of ordinary folks—their faith, good will and hard-work ethic—and the perversion of those who have sold their souls in exchange for a pot of stew, believing the lie of Satan that they “surely shall not die” and that they can “be like God.”

I cannot tell you how many people I now hear saying “I hate people”. I remind them, “but you’re a person, too, so do you hate yourself?” which they don’t like hearing any more than the ice cream flavor analogy. Or one side sneering at the other side, calling them “sheeple” or “Karens” (my real name) depending on their point of view. They want us despising one another. Fighting amongst ourselves. Forgetting what it means to live decently, respecting differing points of view, instinctively knowing right from wrong and standing up for it unashamedly.

Most people really have no idea what awaits us in 2024 when the United States government, the World Bank, the United Nations, the Big Tech and Big Pharma conglomerates are hoping to finally get what they want. Complete control of the common man’s mind and body to do with what they will. It won’t matter anymore which political party you stand for. All of that will suddenly fade away into the insignificance that people will only realize once it is too late.

Right now, just like poor misunderstood Demi Lovado, you can walk into a market and buy whatever you want for dinner. If you fancy a pineapple from Costa Rica and you live in Alaska, no problem. Every new technological device is marketed to you as a greater convenience. We are so lazy; we actually want machines inside our minds to help us be “smarter”. Really?

All of this became clear to me long ago, as a child traveling through the Soviet Union in 1967 and then again in 1974. Everybody was living a lie. A blatant lie. They all knew it was a lie, but no one talked about it. The apathy was addictive and I thought surely, if we had stayed in the cities like Moscow much longer, it would have infected us, too.

As it was, we were shocked at the meager display of produce in the markets and the drab offerings of clothes in the stores. In Moscow, we were excited to visit Gum, the enormous mall with its beautiful architecture that every tourist was encouraged to visit.

GUM

Yes, it was enormous. But how could this be a tourist attraction? The size only drew attention to how empty it was of merchandise. I quote from my mom’s journal of June 29, 1967, describing our arrival by train from Poland:

Sweltering day. Gazed out the windows [of the train] as the countryside rolled by—birch forests, fields, swamps, log houses, villages, and a few collective farms. The aspect all very poor, but the people terribly healthy and evincing a tremendous energy. Women with bulging muscles wielding crow bars, shovels, and hoes. Men in undershirts, or without, sweat rolling, laboring at various tasks. Kids swimming in every stream.

Into Moscow to be met by Intourist and taken to our hotel, “The National” just on Red Square.

First opened in 1903, in March 1918, The National became the home of the first Soviet government. As the Kremlin had been damaged during fighting in October 1917 and was under repair, Lenin made his home in room 107 at the Hotel National with his wife for seven days.

A stroll to St. Basil’s, Lenin’s Tomb and GUM after dinner. The latter a huge disappointment. The bazaars of Fez or Istanbul have far more to offer, besides being more fun. These poor clerks look abysmally miserable. Or maybe they’re not particularly unhappy. There just isn’t any reason to be pleasant, efficient or quick.

I didn’t remember that trip to GUM, but I remembered when we visited again in 1974 and I was 18 years old. On that trip, we traveled by car from Finland all the way from the top of the Soviet Union down to Odessa and out to Romania.

My mom hoped to see GUM improved with the passage of time. But no.

It was wretchedly meager and of poor quality. Only seven years ago, I’d been told that the “nice things had been sent to the Canadian Expo”. Wonder where they are now. Blankets 36-43 rubles, representing half a month’s teacher’s salary. At that rate, our blankets should fetch about $500. The cheapest nylons about $3, average $10. The one’s I’m wearing cost me 73 cents. KGB, are you taking note?

Mom often jokingly referred to the KGB, as we all did, because someone was always following us. I remember a blond lady being ever-present, straining to listen to our conversations. We kids made up gibberish and outlandish statements for her benefit. Of course, we could laugh because we were returning to our free country.

But now, once America is no longer free, where will there be to go?

On our way out of Moscow, with no adequate signs in sight, we got on a road hoping it would lead us to Kiev. Mid-afternoon we came upon one of the inevitable police checkpoints:

The officer whirled around when he saw us, let loose a piercing blast and motioned us over. We were indeed on the road to Kiev, but via Kaluga. Though by that time it would have been just as close to continue on that way, we had to go all the way back to Moscow and start over again. Of course, this ate up the gas. [We had to buy gas vouchers before our trip, anticipating how much we would use]. In answer to our queries, we got the usual conflicting reports of not to be located benzine. One officer told us that 2 kilometers up the road we’d find a tank truck dispensing gas. No truck. Another told us we must go to Yula, way off the road. Thus, it was that we made the acquaintance of Yula…

So many confusions! We left the Soviet Union on July 31, 1974, entering Romania. At the border, the guards seized all of our books and Bibles, my friend Kelly’s journal and my sister’s poetry and took it into a “control” room for examination before, thankfully, giving it back again.

We experienced endless, mind-numbing red tape, rules and regulations, that made no sense but that had to be followed unquestioningly. We came to the conclusion that the shop girls at GUM and other stores were apathetic because there was no incentive to work. The only way to advance was by expressing more party zeal than the worker next to you, not by being better at your job. Not by serving customers well. You were paid a set wage regardless.

This is what we have to look forward to in America. No pride in achievement. No incentive to work. A universal basic income given in exchange for the government taking care of you.

My parents passed away long before the days of Covid, but I don’t think they would have been surprised. They saw it coming, even before the lies of 9/11 set us up to accept the ever more outrageous lies of today.

Reflecting on the Soviet Union as we traveled into Romania, my mom wrote these prophetic words:

Despite all, I’m going to take home some tender memories. Certainly not of the 100s of Lenin likenesses I see everywhere urging the Soviet citizen to labor harder (so they can send up more satellites and train more ballet dancers and play better basketball in order to dazzle the world) Neither do I like the uniformly depressing apartment blocks nor people’s stores set amidst tangled weeds and within view of at least several swelling slogans which remind the dwellers how much they owe to their liberator.

I see a new aristocracy here—the government official who hurtles down Moscow’s broad avenues in his limousine preceded by a wailing police siren scattering the peasants out of the way. Now the Czar doesn’t order bejeweled and gilded Easter eggs for his daughter. The new Czars in the Kremlin build monuments of heroic proportions to the glory of the USSR or invade space while the peasants gather wayside grass by hand for the cows or old women sweep the streets with a bunch of twigs or mothers do street excavation. We saw the serfs today and the hovels they live in. We also saw the grand monuments to the USSR’s economic achievement.

But I was speaking of tender memories. I’ll remember the birch forests, the bend in the river where the kids were swimming, the old couple conversing on the bench in front of their log home, white geese at their feet, the lovely Intourist lady at the Leningradskaya, sunset on the Neva, singing in the monastery of Novgorod, the man who led us to the right road.

My artwork from All the Children, Russia.

The real world is what is most dangerous of all. That is where the common people live, connected to one another in small towns all across America. At least in the Soviet Union, despite the government’s best efforts to see and know everything about its citizens, they still had privacy within their own homes. They could close the doors and talk and sing and pray.

They would not have believed that the day would come in America when people would allow listening devices inside their homes and would treat them as conveniences rather than what would be obvious to every communist citizen if presented with such a device—that it was there to control them, not to help them. They would not believe that microchips inside our brains connecting us to machines in order to influence our thoughts would be talked about openly as a wonderful advancement. Nor that the world’s (once again) richest man, the guy who most wants to invade our brains with machines, the guy who bought Twitter and who has since transformed himself into the Pied Piper of Conservatism, could have successfully herded every dissenting voice inside its confines, even Tucker Carlson, because, where else did he have to go? Those who lived under communism in the Soviet Union would have easily seen right through Elon Musk’s mask.

Oh, except for Trump. He has yet to captured inside Twitter’s algorithms. Think about it.

Tucker ends his Twitter monologue by saying:

Even if you don’t plan to vote for Donald Trump, even if you would die before voting for Donald Trump, which is your right and a lot of good people feel that way, even still, the destruction of our democracy, which is the right of voters to support any candidate they want, even candidates that don’t want war with Russia, the destruction of that should keep you up at night. Yes, Donald Trump is a flawed man, but his sins are minor compared to those of his persecutors. In this life, we don’t get to choose our martyrs. We can only choose our principles. And America’s are at stake.

We should keep in mind that martyrs are only elevated to that status once they are dead. It’s because they are hated while they are alive. Once they are dead and no longer a threat to the regime, then they can be loved. I pray America doesn’t turn Trump and Tucker into martyrs. But is sure looks like that’s what could happen.