That Time My Ogham and I Were Very Wrong
In 2021, I asked my Ogham if there was going to be a catastrophic, Black Plague-level die-off of the quaxxed ("quaxxed" is my term for the MRNA-vaccinated) n the next few years. They said Yes. For a time, I went back and forth on my belief in the impending vax-pocalypse and voiced my opinions in this essay. Then all-cause mortality of everything except Covid-19 ramped up around the world, and I revised my opinions with this essay. Now that we are almost a month into 2023, I am revising my opinion once again. I believe I was wrong and so was my Ogham. There is a die-off of the quaxxed and it is considerable, but it is far from Black Death levels and will likely remain at the same slightly-wavering percentage for the next 1-30 years. It is not a civilization ender in the way the Black Death was, nor will it ever be.
Once again, John Michael Greer nailed it. He has always predicted a slow and steady decline into de-industrialization pockmarked by bubbles and pits. In 2021, I feared 2023 would be a second Great Depression. If half the population of my corner of the upper Midwest had passed away and had politics been even more of a crapshow than it is right now, perhaps that would have happened. As a matter of fact, it did not happen. Real estate is still percolating away at frothy highs, and this is the somewhat gamed result of supply and demand. What I mean is there is no shortage of people looking to rent and buy new spaces. If there truly was a Black Death die off among the quaxxed, half the houses in my neighborhood would be empty. The fact of the matter is they are not.
Let's Look at the Specifics of How I Was Almost Right
I am glad my Ogham and I were wrong about the numbers pertaining to the quaxxed. As it so happens, my area in the Chicago suburbs is about 90-95 percent quaxxed. As someone who did not get any of the quaxxes, I am a freak on the margins and a potential target for persecution. Being staunchly against the quax is what forced me to close my commercial space of 13 years. About half of my clients became afraid of me, with my unvaxxed blood, spreading the dread Corona virus to themselves and their children. The ultimate irony came wrapped up with a bow: they are the super-spreaders they once feared, and because of the way the spike proteins implant themselves in every tissue of the body, they may be cursed with this status for life. My profits were never fat enough to lose 50% of them and still be in a position to pay commercial rent, so here I am, making a modest living teaching lessons out of my house.
This is not to say the quaxxes do not come at a price that often includes mortality. All-cause mortality is up by staggering amounts wherever there are lots of quaxxed people, yet it is suspiciously low in countries like Haiti and Sweden where the quax was not forced. One of the predictions my Ogham made that came true is the swelling numbers of vaccine-injured/quax-disabled people. Labor shortages and supply chain issues are not just a result of government fiddling; there are countless numbers who took the quax and suffered its infamous side effects. Anyone who has seen the incredibly gruesome documentary Died Suddenly can likely piece together what can happen in the bodies of the quaxxed. I am amazed at how many people are still alive, considering the evidence provided by what the quax does once it sets up in the blood in the form of fibrous clots.
I'm Not Ready and Never Will Be
I'm fairly thrifty and scrappy, but I am not ready for any kind of Black Plague level event and I am fairly certain I will never be ready within this lifetime. For instance, last night I took one of my autistic adult students to play a popular open mic. The open mic was in a spacious bar that was teeming with people. The local musicians who played and sang were prodigiously talented. I ordered a vegan burger off of their impressive menu. Teeming bars with great musicians and vegan options do not happen in the apocalypse. We are very, very far from Monty Python's BRING OUT YOUR DEAD! scene and I hope we always remain that way. When quax injuries and deaths started to make themselves apparent in 2022, I did a mini-series of meditations of what could happen. These included:
2. Cholera... about 20 percent die/still horrible, pretty bad but not like the Black Death
3. Spanish flu... fewer than 10 percent die
4. Nobody dies, business as usual
We seem to be somewhere between 2 and 3 right now. It's horrific for sure to see so many mowed down, but it ain't the Black Death and thank heaven for that. I don't want anything like the Black Death to happen because as someone who was raised as an upper-middle class suburbanite, it's everything I can do to figure out old fashioned homesteading skills between trying to keep a roof overhead. I have never successfully canned a vegetable or fruit on my own. I still kill a good number of my plants, both indoors and in the garden. My house, though fairly resilient, depends on heat from natural gas, electricity and water from my local grids, and repairs from local handymen. All of these things need copious numbers of people to make them happen. I love my fragile environment with top shelf musicians randomly visiting open mics on Tuesday night while I munch on my vegan burger and microgreens and strawberry salad. I also don't want any of my students or their families to suffer, and this is not entirely selfish. My relationship with my clients is more like extended family or in some cases, close family. I love and care for these people more than I do some of my immediate relatives and many of them are quaxxed.
I feel fortunate to be able to say I am wrong, and to my credit, I have always maintained I could be wrong. Buying into the Apocalypse Meme is tempting because it allows you to take yourself out of your current predicament and place yourself in an exciting movie where you have other and more pressing things to worry about. Perhaps this will help me to understand why asking the Ogham binary Yes No questions is so problematic. There are always a million small factors affecting any one outcome, kind of like the butterfly effect or ripples in a pond.
