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When men stop believing in God, it isn't that they then believe in nothing: they believe in everything. ~Umberto Eco
What I am about to tell you would be highly classified in normal times. Suffice it to say these are not normal times. Please note that I had no control over any of these events, I'm just Sgt. Mattson from Security Forces. Also take note that you cannot join the Deep State, you don't PCS here, you don't transfer in or get seconded by some other agency. You get denounced and dumped here by Republicans. There's nothing wrong with that, by my some estimates, we're roughly 81% of the population of the United States Of America, and counting.
Deep State Sector Victor Seven.
Former United States Air Force SAGE control bunker.
Somewhere near Richmond, Virginia.
Yeah, Okay, it was Wednesday. Dead slow, not much going on, only one VIP on-site, likewise only one or two subjects. I was on alert duty and the senior noncommissioned officer onsite, which is freaking boring. You're spending your entire watch waiting for something to happen, and nothing ever does, not in a place like this. It's more boring than Minot, North Dakota in the winter. I'll admit I might've dozed off in my chair a little bit. Nobody else was doing any better that night. The middle of the week is usually quiet. Most of the stuff we do happens on the weekends.
Certainly, nobody's expecting much if I'm technically in charge.
I was suddenly awakened by the sound of a woman laughing, like, uncontrollably. In the response-team station there's a bank of CCTV's about the same as in the monitor room, and likewise there's an audio feed from each station. The sound continues, for several minutes, my curiosity is, in fact, piqued.
Oh, shit. Naturally, it's Her. Not that she's known for laughing all that much, unlike Vice President Harris, who's now heavily favored to win in just under six weeks. I guess those Heritage Foundation dudes writing some tell-all book about their Project 2025 plot to turn America into a bigger version of Ned Flanders' house from The Simpsons wasn't such a great idea.
My radio crackles "Watch Command, IR-3, what's your twenty?" meaning 'Where am I?' I thumb the switch "At my desk, what do you need?" Static "The Secretary...needs a bottle of water." I grab two, just to be safe. Out the door, down the hall. I knock on the door and a couple seconds later the troop on duty opens it.
On one side of the table sits Hillary Clinton, a bit red in the face, eyes moist, visibly trying to control herself...but she fails to stifle a giggle when she sees me come in looking all serious. Since I got here, I've only fired a weapon at the range...qualifications being qualifications, after all. But, looking serious goes with the job, anyway.
"Oh, sure, I'm fine" she replies, accepting and cracking open the offered water bottle, and taking a swig. "Thank you."
She looks at the bearded Internet Weirdo sitting across the table from her "Tell him what you just told me."
He puffs up his chest a little, trying to look and sound all pious and serious. "I fully exthpect to be exthecuted for thought-crimeth."
Wut??
This is America, WE DON'T DO THAT HERE! Also, for a man who thinks he's about to die, he has a very smug look on his face. Also, I didn't know this dude had a lisp like that. Jesus. I guess I can see what she thought was so damn funny.
I can't help myself, I look him right in the eye; "Dude, what the fuck is wrong with you?"
The fact that I asked him this, military-grade poker face or not, seems to make him wilt right in his chair.
She's composed herself, and her voice has a hard edge to it; "Get the guys in the white coats, this one's got to have the full Treatment. Have Dr. Singh meet me in my office in five."
"Yes, Ma'am."
Twenty minutes later, I'm back at my desk watching them wheel the internet weirdo out on a cart like Hannibal Lecter in Silence Of The Lambs, eyes propped open like Alex in A Clockwork Orange. There's only one troop, as the subject has been assessed as not dangerous. The subject is, however, screaming like a little girl as they load him into a big white van.
Dr. Singh, a burly, bearded man in a doctor's coat and a Sikh's Turban...is attempting to comfort him.
On another screen, I see Secretary Clinton badge out and leave for the night. It'll be quiet for the rest of the duty day.
One of my troops comes back in, a few minutes later, getting his lunch out of the fridge.
"Hey, Gio, you know where they're taking this doofus? And what's this 'Treatment' bullshit?? I been here five years and I still don't know what it means."
He takes a second to put his plate of tacos in the microwave. "It's nothing invasive, no pain except for whatever psych trauma these freaks work themselves into and whatever they do to hurt each other...and note anybody who does that goes to jail...the idea is to force these clowns to move the goalposts too far and break them out of the conspiracy theory mindset. If we can't make 'em act like normal fucking people at least we can embarrass them and get them to shut the fuck up about it, or they get subjected to vicious social consequences by non-state parties as a result.
No laws are technically broken, not by us, anyway. They all had to agree to come along at some point." He laughs.
"I heard this last batch was all picked up via skeevy Grindr ads. I thought Republicans wasn't suppose to be gay, bro?"
And if they don't behave, that comes out, too.
"Yeah" I reply "Me too, and now these nuts are shooting at each other over the slightest imagined sign of disloyalty to Donald Trump or this 'Project' horseshit" Hundreds of shootings and arrests later, and a nationwide spike in gun crime...nearly all of it in rural areas or Red States, and both by and against White Republicans...National Guards in twenty states have been activated and Federalized (And, thus far, two Republican governors and one Lieutenant Governor got arrested by the FBI for conspiracy to commit murder...in all cases against fellow conservatives...and for seditious acts) because of it, and just like that, any talk of purges or Secession disappeared. But Republicans are already acting like they think they're their own country or some shit.
My bro looks up from his food "Yeah, man, everybody else be tired of it and they getting worse."
"Like, all this shit got started because somebody called them 'Weird.' If you can't handle being called weird why even act like that? If you can't handle being called weird how you gonna overthrow the government, unless somebody really fucks up??"
Another voice pipes up "Guys, that's exactly what they thought was going to happen. These people aren't the brightest lights on the Christmas tree." It's Judi, she's tall, fit and slightly muscular, her short curly hair has a Pride rainbow dye job. She's one of our civilian analysts. Before, she was an English teacher in Texas.
There were many ways to run afoul of these fucking people's attempted revolution, and they absolutely do not appreciate or understand that this is America.
"Well, I'd best get back to my paperwork. Should be quiet the rest of the night, let me know if you need anything."
Author's Note: It's like this; There ain't no Deep State and there ain't nobody wheeling Mike Cernovich around Comet Ping Pong on a cart to make him see that the entire basis of all his made up bullshit is just so much bovine exhaust, nor filming the whole bit so everybody can see. But ya know, maybe, just maybe, there should be something like that.
These fucking people's pants-shitting fear and unreasonableness is wrecking America and that needs to be addressed by somebody.
Certainly, the American tolerance for this crap seems to be wearing thin, but thin enough?
I think so, but we will see.
Слава Україна!
~From the film Crimson Tide.
"The fight is here; I need ammunition, not a ride." ~Volodymyr Zelenskyy, allegedly 25 February 2022, Associated Press
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