My 1-Year Anniversary of Scamdemic Awakening

Updated: Apr 6, 2021


It was exactly one year ago, on March 25, 2020, that I realized it was a giant hoax.



Here's how it happened...


During the initial pandemic-narrative-buildup phase (January, February, most of March), I was located in Florida, and during that time, I did NOT respond to it like a "Florida-Man."



Quite the contrary; I took the alleged pandemic very seriously. I was the first person in the neighborhood to start wearing latex gloves to the supermarket. I wiped down every doorknob, after each touch. I left my non-perishable groceries in their plastic bags, in the corner of the house, for 3 days before opening them (to give the "virus" a chance to breakdown). I educated my parents, whom I was staying with at the time, on the proper protocols for transmission mitigation. I washed for 20 seconds, every single time.


And I contextualized the situation like any good Leftist would: As a global "lesson in collectivism." I thought the "Wuhan Bat" was Mother Earth's message to us to wake the fuck up.


It's true. We've made our planet sick. But medical biotech dystopia isn't the medicine.

I thought "covid" was here to teach us to "care about others." As a vegan, I was optimistic that the "wet market origin" would finally and irreversibly turn the world off from meat-eating.


It's true. And they're unspeakably cruel. We should close them. But covid is still a hoax.

I believed that the "pandemic" was the stimulus needed for finally getting humanity into the new paradigm!


It's a good thing this happened. We need to change. But covid is still a hoax.

I was on board with the mainstream, consensus narrative about "the coronavirus." You could even say I was at the vanguard of it, looking forward to utilizing the crisis to achieve long-standing progressive goals of societal transformation.


Of course, as the weeks went by, I also started to theorize about ways the virus could be exploited by authoritarian bad-actors to advance ulterior agendas.


For instance, the 2020 Democratic Primary was heating up, and I conjectured that the party establishment might use the "pandemic" to cheat Bernie Sanders. I thought they would use "lockdowns" to selectively target specific neighborhoods and districts that were "Bernie's base", while leaving the other candidates' voters alone, thereby skewing the contests in the latter's favor.


In the end, they didn't do that. Instead, they cancelled the entire primary election altogether, and simply "declared" Kidgroper D. Mentia as the nominee.


Because voting was unsafe.


Wow. They surpassed my expectations.


But I didn't realize the whole thing was a hoax, yet. I was very aware of the potential for it to get *hijacked,* and actively scanned for any such occurrences; but I still believed in the overall claim. I believed that there really was a "new monster virus."


When I watched states start "shutting down," I started getting scared. But I still thought it was real.


And then came time for a long-awaited trip.



For the past 5 years, I had been living in Asia, as an English teacher. I hadn't been back to the USA that entire time - not even once in 5 years!


I came to visit my parents in Florida in January 2020, expecting the trip to last a couple of months.


One week after arriving, I started seeing news reports about a strange new virus emerging in Wuhan, China. Then the world lost its mind.


Since international travel was forbidden by our wise and unimpeachable overlords, I decided to make the most of the situation, and go visit my "homeland" of Maryland, where I grew up.


I missed my home, especially the landscape and forests. While Yunnan is spectacularly beautiful, there's still nothing quite like the land where one grew up. The terrain is unique, the trees are unique... just something about it is irreplaceable.




For much of my time in Asia, I wondered what it would be like when I first returned to the lands of my birth. I fantasized about that "first hike" upon first returning - about walking upon the soil in my favorite forests, where I had spent so much time, and learned so much wisdom about the universe. So I planned on heading north, from Florida to Maryland, for the spring and summer.



As the "shut down" and "lockdown" talk escalated, the states of Florida and Georgia flirted with closing their border. For all anyone knew at the time, we could have been entering an era of internal border checkpoints. (That did happen, in Australia and New Zealand, but not in America).


So on March 23, I packed up my stuff, and headed north, "while I still could." At each gas station, I put on my latex gloves before operating the pump, and kept a huge distance from every person I came across. I even held my breath if anyone got too close.


After a day of driving, I arrived at my aunt's house in Baltimore, and quickly noticed that the people up north were more paranoid about the virus than those down south. Some of them were even crazier about it than me! My aunt, in particular, was practicing a strict antivirus protocol, since she's over 70, and perceives herself to be at "higher risk." I was happy to comply.


But the next day, it all changed. Pretty much in one blinding flash.


On March 25, 2020, I went to Gunpowder Falls State Park for my first hike in my homeland in 5 years. The area I went to is very remote and sparsely populated. Even during normal times, it has barely any people in it. It's wilderness.


And upon reaching the trailhead, I found this:



In case the text is too blurry, here are the key phrases:


"This area is closed to all recreational activities."


"All recreational activities at the Liberty, Loch Raven, and Prettyboy Reservoirs are suspended for the duration of the public health emergency."


"This includes hiking, kayaking, mountain biking, boating, fishing, and horseback riding."


This was so strange and unprecedented, I had to think for a moment to process what it meant.


If a park is declared "closed"...


...then that means...


...people don't want you walking there.


Hmmm...


But why not?


And if you do walk there, and those people find out, then men with guns will come and accost you, and forcibly abduct you. Or, at best, give you a written promise for their colleagues to extort money from you.


They really, really, don't want you walking there.


They're so against it, they're willing to be violent to stop you.


Walking there is a big deal.


And during this time of special "emergency", who knows what their fear and panic might drive them to do? In the midst of such an atmosphere, who knows how they might overreact to even the slightest rule-breaking?


Going in there would be... dangerous. They might throw the book at me.


* * *


This was, of course, the initial series of thoughts that went through my mind.


But the thing is... I'm a thinking person. When people tell me to do things - especially things that are deleterious to my freedom, or health, or that of others - I actually *think* before I comply. I run their request through a filter called "Reason," to see if it actually makes sense, rationally.


What's their objective? Why do they want to override my free will? Why do they want to ruin my day? Why do they want me to do something contrary to my own nature?


Why?


Will it actually *help* the problem they say it's meant to help?


I'm all for helping. I care about others. But does it actually help?


Is there an actual cause-and-effect relationship between A) the action they want me to take, and B) the mitigation of the harm they say they want to mitigate?


Does the one actually lead to the other?


If I turn around, and get in the car, and drive away - and don't go on this hike - will that actually "prevent viruses from spreading?"


If I go into the woods, and hike, will that cause "more spreading" of viruses?


Will I spread viruses more by walking in the woods than by going back home to my aunt's house?


Does this new "prohibition on hiking in the wilderness" actually make sense?


Logically?



***


I'm well aware of being among a very small minority of people in thinking like this - and the vast majority simply obey whatever they're told by anyone making a plausible claim of masterhood or lordship over them. They're like well-trained animals. Whatever master says, they do. There is no "why."


But I'm not like that. I require logic. And the logic did not make sense.


Think about it for just 10 seconds and you'll see.


Viruses can only be spread from person to person, in close proximity. They don't stick on trees and bushes and lakes and dirt. Upon entering an ecosystem, they're broken down immediately by the first microorganisms that crawl by. They're food.


So if I walk by a tree, and cough on it, the tree is not going to "save" my viruses in its bark, and then send them out again to the next person who walks by.


First of all, no one is even going to walk by. Certainly fewer people than in a populated area. And even if someone does walk by the tree, wet tree-bark-in-springtime is the most inhospitable surface for a virus to live on.


No one is going to be picking up a virus from a tree.


That's not how viruses transmit.


This is standard, basic epidemiology.


This is not controversial.


If I'm in a forest, I can't spread any viruses to anyone.


Why don't these government people want us hiking?


I tried to think of reasons.


I actually gave the government the benefit of the doubt, at first. I assumed they must have had a reason. So I tried really hard to come up with it. I sat there, beside the sign, for probably 20 minutes, trying to think of the reason why it would be harming others if I went for this hike.


And I couldn't find a reason.


I did think, "what if I pass someone on the trail?"


But there are two reasons why that still wouldn't make sense:


Reason #1:


This wilderness trail is almost empty of people, even in normal times. It certainly has fewer people than any other place I could possibly go. Literally, this trail is the most remote trail in a 45 minute driving radius. It's a forest, surrounded by a giant lake, surrounded by more forest, surrounded by farms. If I'm on this trail, I'm literally farther away from the nearest person... than any other person. There is no place you can go, in all of Baltimore County, where you'll be farther away from other humans... than this trail. It's the remotest trail, in the remotest section, of the remotest park, in the entire county.


How many ways can I say this?


So anyway, the chance of running into a person "to spread the virus too" is lower there than in any other place.


If I went back to my aunt's neighborhood, I'd be in closer proximity to other humans, and have more spreading of viruses.


Reason #2:


Even if I do encounter another person, we have more room to get out of each other's way than we would have in the suburban neighborhood where my aunt lives. If I were there, I'd be walking on a sidewalk.


And everyone else would be walking on a sidewalk, too.


The same sidewalk.


And sidewalks are only a few feet wide.


And you know what that means.


There's not enough room to pass someone, unless one of you walks on Mr. Wilson's petunias.


That means, if you're walking in a residential neighborhood, you will pass close by other people. Within a foot or two of them.


But if you're in the wilderness, you can get far out of the way when you see someone coming. You can step way off the trail, to allow them to pass. How far do you prefer? 10 feet? 20 feet? 50 feet? 100 feet? You have a whole fucking wilderness of space to get out of their way.



Do you realize what this means?


The wilderness is the best place to go to prevent transmission of viruses!


The best place to go!


Right here!


But wait.


There's a sign... telling me not to go there.


Huh?


I thought we were in a pandemic? I th