The Professional Managerial Class is desperately trying to keep their Panicdemic and all of its accompanying shutdowns alive. Recently, the mainstream media announced a new 70% more deadly strain of Coronavirus was on the prowl, prompting a new round of closures and cancellations that will shove more tiers of the former middle class into destitution. And for what? Covid kills .03 percent or less for those under the age of 60, so increasing the amount of deaths to a whopping half a percent via a "70% more deadly" strain doesn't exactly make it formidable.
The New Useless Eaters
To protect a sliver of the elderly via dubious methods of solitary confinement in nursing homes and hospitals (a.k.a. forcing them to die alone because the State has clandestinely labelled them as Useless Eaters), the government has collapsed the world economy, driving millions into poverty and causing third world starvation. Back in the first world, suicide and domestic abuse statistics are skyrocketing, crime in the cities is ballooning, businesses like mine are folding, and unemployment is off the charts. The only people who are still doing well are the Professional Managerial Class and their one percent rulers, smugly virtue signaling from on high. They are, for now, still making plenty of money, happily sitting at home as their children muddle through online lessons at school, some more proficiently than others. Jeff Bezos is nearly a trillionaire. In Wuhan, the economy has never been better and they’re partying mask-free like it’s 1999. Nothing to see here, folks, keep moving.
Psychotic Break
Despite a fortune seemingly cemented in place that heavily indicates a few more years of a communist Chinese feeding frenzy disguised as monarchy, the Professional Managerial Class is in the midst of a psychotic break. They are the spoiled children that got everything they wanted for Christmas and then found that none of those toys filled the gaping pit of emptiness inside. They were mentally ill to begin with (I’m not supposed to use that terminology according to the Social Justice movement, because I could hurt the feelings of schizophrenics) and that mental illness is worsening by the hour. The preferred leftist outcome of the 2020 American presidential election was supposed to heal all wounds — Facebook and Twitter still ring with calls for unity while spewing vitriol at anyone who disagrees with shutdowns and masks or is of the wrong skin color — but it is clear to see the wounds are still there, itching and seeping under a thin bandage. The PMC acts no saner than it did in 2016 when the Orange Man played salvage shop and began to drain the swamp. Now, with Orange Man apparently vanquished, the Left is doing what it does best: eating its own. The mainstream media does what it can to stick fingers in the dam of evidence against its drooling, senile, child molesting President Elect, but there’s only so much you can do on a slow news day. The facts on the ground are that the President Elect is easy to loathe, and since the mainstream media has pushed nothing but loathing for the last five years, old patterns die hard. Trump was the goose that laid the Cheeto-colored eggs and he’s no longer laying. Of course all eyes now turn from him to the pathetic travesty about to take the Iron Throne.
Enter Shame
The Professional Managerial Class and its defender aspirants marinated in pure hatred for the last five years and they now hilariously want to skip away to a unicorn fart world of love, light, and non-TERF BIPOC feminism where we can pretend it never happened. If we only accept the Great Reset, coerced inoculations for an impotent nothingburger flu, we can all be happy and the Progressive flying car utopia will arrive on schedule. The PMC have yet to realize you cannot eat, live, and breathe hatred and then turn tail when the consequences of being hateful are plopped on your doorstep. That’s why they’re so triggered when I say the word “shame.”
The PMC have a problem with shame, whether they choose to acknowledge it or not. I know this because I was born and raised as a PMC. I know how they operate underneath the hood.
How Freaking Double Dog Dare You!
The Greta Thunberg phenomenon is meant to shame us all into accepting the young scold's warped vision of green utopia. Thunberg, in her ocean-sailing, vegan convenience food eating, autistic naïveté said "How Dare You!" without the faintest understanding of her own hypocrisy. The trouble with shame is that it cannot be effectively dealt by those who do not live as they preach. Nearly starving yourself to death at age ten because you are a spoiled brat is not the same thing as the ten year old who picks up trash in the forest preserve because he wants to inspire others to conserve its beauty and majesty. If the trash collector kid talks about conservation, I'm willing to listen. If a rich kid who accepted a "free" Tesla who played hooky from school and made her mother quit a once-in-several-lifetimes career of professional opera singing because of whatever piss was infecting her cornflakes that week, I am not inclined to lend such a person my ears.
The Burden and Karma of Responsibility
On one of JMG’s blogs, I had a Covid fearmonger trying to go around with me because I danced around the idea of the s word that rhymes with blame. Her fixation was on the idea of responsibility, how I had better not consider her responsible if I infected grandma with COVID by not self-isolating and wearing a mask until my own natural death. She (or he) displayed a transparent yearning for me to feel shame for being wrongity-wrong, which I would of course feel when my loved ones caught COVID and died horrible failed double lung transplant related deaths. I found this interesting because of the shadow being projected.
The thing is, the PMC and all of the fearmongers who still encourage lockdowns and masks are directly responsible for the consequences of the lockdowns. The reason I have not played nicely with lockdowns and masks from the beginning is because I do not want the karma of those who have blindly followed orders all this time. My ill-wisher is already responsible for the death of 11 year old Adan Llanos, who shot himself during a virtual school session. She is responsible for the terror of my elderly neighbor, a kind old man who died surrounded by strangers in a hospital bed a few weeks ago instead of his wife and grown children. She is responsible for the droves of addicts who fell back into addiction, given nothing but idle time and no support groups. She is responsible for the small towns that lost their only profitable company because of lack of demand and all of the families thrown into poverty as a result. She is responsible for a billion missed rites of passage: weddings, proms, funerals, mitzvahs, quinceaneras, graduations, first kisses. She is responsible for her own cowardly escapism into the Petit Trianon of Netflix and takeout food while others literally starved. I believe she will pay for it someday, though it won’t be up to deplorable like me to punish her. Justice for her is up to the gods and I am not privy to viewing their schedules in advance.
Meanwhile, she is a septic tank of PMC mindlessness, a condition I wouldn’t wish on anyone because I used to live there and it sucks. She can only pretend to feel sorry for the disenfranchised because THAT IS HOW SHE IS SUPPOSED TO FEEL. If she were just to admit she doesn’t care because it doesn’t affect her personally (not my circus, not my monkeys) it would make her into a monster. This is why she and her ilk are so quick to accuse anyone suffering from the lockdowns as a grandma-killer: projecting the monstrous shadow. If she were to admit she disliked the idea of my elderly neighbor dying alone and abandoned but also admitted she wasn’t willing to lift a finger to help if it meant sacrificing her own privileges, it would make her guilty. Her guilt might cause her to feel shame.
I know how the PMC mind races at night. I know how full it is of media tidbits, popular jargon, and peccadilloes. In the current climate of fear porn, soon to be declassé Trump Derangement Syndrome, and cognitive dissonance, it’s a thousand times worse than when I called myself a PMC. The PMC are getting plenty of rest these days but they still can’t sleep. When your imagination has been polluted and you are in complete and denial about the ways in which it is polluted, that pollution still must discharge in various ways. Trump was the outlet/target for the steady stream of PMC foulness in the US. Now the sewer has backed up, hence psychotic break, descent into depression, alcoholism, drugs, TikTok, online gaming and Netflix binges.
You Watching Me Watching Me
The PMC woman was, like me, trained to be vain and to simultaneously deny that vanity as a sin. She is always picturing herself from an outsider’s view. We women are cultivated to view ourselves remotely from birth so that we can better compete with other women. The urge to compete is the urge to consume. Grasping why Madison Avenue would want us this way should be obvious.
Postmodern Original Sin
Rich women are saddled with this self-viewing compulsion in the extreme. Being born rich means you will constantly percolate set ideas in your pretty head: that you don’t actually have the right to exist, that you are ugly, that you’re a parasite, a hustler, and a grifter because of the privileges you enjoy. The Korean film about class warfare, Parasite, comes to mind: we are never explicitly told if the real parasites are the rich or the poor.
The more privileges you enjoy, the more shame and guilt you must feel. In order to consume more product to ostensibly better yourself, you are made to feel guilty and worthless, especially while young. Women have different reactions to being conditioned this way; most don’t think about it for one second and would blink at you stupidly if you pointed it out. For some, there is extreme dieting and dysmorphia, starving oneself to become perfect, beautiful, and therefore worthy of your status. For others, angrily inventing a list of oppressions to become a professional victim assuages the feeling of guilt. Some become party girls, attempting to have fun while becoming human tragedies of addiction and codependence. Rarely do they strike at the root, which is of course the way they were conditioned to (not) think.
There are workarounds, of course, but the fearmongering PMC is not willing to look at them at this point. One would be taking a hard look at the toxicity of an exceedingly comfortable life. Another would be admitting that the economic prognosis of living standards for one’s grandchildren is going to be bleak, especially if said grandchildren are under the age of ten. To truly deal with their shame hangups, the PMC would first have to admit that shame is playing a role and second stop projecting the shadow upon others in the form of blame and finger pointing. Mostly I see the PMC clinging onto the privilege raft down the DeNile River until it finally throws them off. They will only be dragged from Versailles kicking and screaming.
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