A Walk In The Park
by Michael Knight
Some reporters and Internet sleuths have contacts in high places.
As for me, that was once the case when I could call an MP or even the Prime Minister’s office and arrange an interview within minutes.
Not so today.
That was long ago and far away.
Today, my contacts are “virtual” in the sense that they exist somewhere in the world, and somewhere on the Internet.
But “virtual” really isn’t good enough, even though we are being conditioned under this COVID boondoggle to accept such things as social distancing and attending church and holding memorials for our dear departed via Zoom and other Internet modalities.
Therefore, I am more than thrilled to report that I have friends in low places. Those low places being down here at the lower end of society, at ground level, where I have just a few close friends, and occasionally meet a new one, or even run across a total stranger.
Today was a day to run across such a total stranger – a man without a mask, walking his big black purebred German Shepherd in the park.
The park is nothing like you’d find in a city.
It is a park somewhere out in the boonies, alongside a lake that stretches 50 miles into the distance.
I have been there often, and usually there is no-one else around.
But today was different.
The man and his dog followed me, staying some distance behind, until I reached the point where I usually turn around and head back to my vehicle.
Reeling his dog in on the long lead he was holding, he stepped off the trail and into the 20-acre field that the gravel walkway encompasses. It is graveled and fairly well maintained so the disabled can take a spin in their wheelchairs – which I have never seen in the past 10 years – but as a walker, I sincerely appreciate the fact that it provides firm under-footing – except for the occasional hole that the myriad of moles have somehow managed to open up in their tireless underground travels.
We, me and the other guy, kept our distance, which I was more than happy to do, having once been dropped by a German Shepherd that was in training as a guard dog. There’s something about a row of canine teeth in your face that burns in an indelible memory.
The three of us got to talking. The dog was talking with his pricked ears and piercing eyes and slightly raised hackles between his shoulders, telling me to watch my step and be a nice good boy. I complied.
It turned out that my new acquaintance was maybe a few thousand miles from his home of the past 40 years – somewhere in Alaska – now down in the lower 40 on the West side in order to get away from the snow and ice up there.
You don’t have to have friends in high places to learn new stuff.
In fact, you can take one look at a person these days, and tell in a heartbeat whether he or she is an independent person, or a subservient fearful conditioned and perhaps even brainwashed disciple of authority. Such a person wears a mask.
Neither of us was wearing a mask, and the next tell was that he actually looked me in the face when talking. I have noticed that mask-wearers always avert their eyes when they see me, maskless, challenging the rules of whatever store I am in.
I learned that the motel in the small town he comes from has had only two guests since last March – or since the lockdown was announced.
I learned that the fishing industry in Alaska has gone to hell, because social distancing means the processing plants can’t employ people working side by side.
And I also learned there is or was a move afoot to shut down all work on the Alaska pipelines – for fear that those working there might contract COVID-19.
Being men, just getting to know each other, even if for only a brief time, we were careful about our use of language. Or perhaps he is just a more genteel individual than I am. Whatever the case, we did agree that the world is full of bullshit.
A real example of that, as he expounded on it, was that people are being denied the right to assemble in church – and, he said, there was a Minister who defied the dictate, held services, and is now looking at a million dollar fine. I didn’t ask which state that was in, but it sure sounded plausible to me.
"What we should be doing," he said, "is burning our masks. If people can burn our flag, we should burn our masks."
I was getting to like this guy.
I said something about the way the world is going to hell in a hand basket, with transgenderites taking over women’s sports, the media constantly harping on black rights and white privilege and doing its utmost to turn America into a completely divided nation.
He noted that “they” were intent on destroying the family, family values, small to medium businesses, destroying the economy, “and before you know it, we’ll be lining up at the gas station to get our allotted five gallons of gas at 10 bucks a gallon.
“That’s what’ll happen if they shut down all these pipelines.
“Where is it going to end?” he asked, of nobody in particular.
But since I was the only one there to answer the question, I did my best.
“Well,” said I, “I’ve heard that the military is waiting in the wings. They haven't accepted this interloper as Commander in Chief. They know China hacked the election. And that was an act of war by a foreign enemy using a different type of warfare. General Flynn calls it cyberwarfare.”
By this time the hackles on the dog’s back had resolved themselves into an attitude that said “if these guys are talking, maybe I don’t need to bite that guy over there.” Having trained a few dogs in my time, especially on hand signals, I made the “sit” movement with my right hand. Apparently not just dogs understand that gesture. The stranger instantly responded by using the same hand movement and saying to his dog, “sit.” I thought to myself at that moment that I should write something about conditioning – for both dogs and humans.
“What I’ve heard,” I said, getting back on point, “is that there won’t be any military coup like happens in South America or over there in Myanmar. Nothing like that. There won’t be troops in the streets.
“But there are two aircraft carrier fleets off the West Coast, and one fleet alone involves a hundred ships, so there are 200 navy vessels out there. And another carrier fleet off the east coast.”
“What for?” he asked.
“Just to let China know that cyberwarfare might be one way to attack us – but you damn well better not try the old way.”
At that point he said “I saw that pillow guy talking about China. And about all those millions of votes stolen from Trump. If you do the math you’d see that not just 75 million but over a hundred million people voted for Trump.” Then he added – “they shut the video down while I was watching it. So I went and bought two pillows just to help the guy.”
“I think what’ll happen,” said I, “is that once the true result of the election is fully revealed, and because Trump signed that Executive Order about insurrection somewhere around 2018, there’s going to be a big cleanup.
“We know the courts are corrupt. They’re Deep State for sure.”
I stopped, looking for any facial reaction to my use of the words Deep State. He didn’t blink an eye. Apparently we were still on common ground.
“So the military will then be able to say the election was stolen for sure, and they’ll talk about enemies foreign and domestic and their oath to uphold the law and the Constitution and so on. And because the civilian courts have proven themselves to be so corrupt, any trials will be before a military tribunal.”
“And by the way,” I added, “the military won't be saying there has to be a new election.”
“Why not? The last one was totally rigged and false. So there should be a new election.”
“Well, what I’ve heard on the Internet is that we might have to put up with two presidents for a while. The fake one, and the real one. But the fact is, they say, that when the truth is known and all those fake votes are removed…”
“You mean all that Dominion voting machine bullshit?”
“Yes. That bullshit. When the true result is known, President Trump will be back in office and we won’t need another election at all.”
He paused to light a cigarette, then asked, “How soon?”
“I don’t know really. There’s so much going on behind the scenes that I have no clue about. But maybe, just maybe, sometime in April.”