The state knew John Smith lived on Lumumba Street and worked on Stalin Avenue. If Smith wanted to spend a night at a woman's apartment, she had to register him at the neighborhood police station. Big Brother entered the bedroom, but not totally, for he couldn't hear all the sibilants, exhalations and squishes. Daytime movement was generally unmonitored, but the state always knew where you were at night.
Smith's ID card also prevented him from moving to the next city, much less getting a better job there, so he was stuck in Bidenstadt, his hometown.
Smith was free, though, to walk into any state store to browse, for as long as he wanted, its empty shelves.
Now, the state knows where Smith is all the time. At 5:51:15PM, this scowling man is again at Blather Bar, next to Red Levine, who, despite his name, also has alternative right tendencies. Vein-popping fans of Steve Sailer, each has left hundreds of fist-pumping comments, under "sigofnig" and "xxxxrabbi."
For the state, the whole point of tracking is to reward or punish, mostly the latter. In the past, you'd be invited to the police station, or just dragged off the street. Now, punishment can be much tidier, and instant, even for the tiniest sin. That's where the vaccine, green, access or health passport comes in.
Required to have one, Smith can be prevented from entering Blather, or any bar, for that matter. If his transgression is bad enough, Smith will be blocked from any indoor space, period, except the shoelace factory, corner grocery and his basement apartment, though even this last privilege can be revoked.
Traipsing home exhausted one winter evening, Smith discovers his passport no longer opens his building's door. He must have said something at work, or the evening before, at Blather. Maybe it was an online comment. Smith should have known. Several of his neighbors have been locked out. He deserves it, Smith thought of one he disliked intensely, and not just politically. Let him die! Now, it's his turn.
To prevent such scenarios, we must reject the newly-introduced right-to-live pass. Worse than Soviet-era internal passports, it can prevent us from buying even a cheeseburger. As with the jab that's designed to sicken, disable, sterilize or kill, it's not about our wellbeing. No pass, no entry means we're constantly at their mercy.
Having already killed millions, they want to cull billions of us and strangle the rest. Half of this earth must be reverted to nature, they preach, but they're not going anywhere, nor will they curb their indulgences. As they splurge on slabs of gold-leafed Aberdeen angus, we'll have to swallow wood lice and brown marmorated stink bugs, with upcycled shit for variety. Trust the science!
Covid has been engineered to steer us to this point. Terrifying us with inflated death figures and apocalyptic predictions, they herd us into vaccine chambers, while explaining, preposterously, that only Nazis resist.
Presenting himself as synonymous with "science," a psychopathic doctor keeps insisting we trust him, even as he wobbles or contradicts himself, with his only constant a relentless push for the poison jab, which, of course, also rakes in billions for his patrons.
For helping Big Pharma to sicken, addict and kill over half a century, Fauci is rewarded with a bigger salary than any US government employee's, including the President's.
Though the left is supposedly most sensitive to animal rights, they just shrug at Fauci having puppies, with their vocal cords cut, eaten alive by ants. These staunch defenders of "people of color" are also unfazed by Fauci's mass murder of black and brown babies in dubious experiments.
If you have a relative or friend who's still uncertain about Covid jabs, give him immediately Robert F. Kennedy Jr.'s The Real Anthony Fauci — Bill Gates, Big Pharma, and the Global War on Democracy and Public Health. You might save his life, and his children's, too.
Meanwhile, Pfizer boss Albert Boula indignantly declares that those who resist his genocidal vaccine are criminals! Satanist inversion, indeed.
Before this staged insanity, they teased us with tales of space travel and mars colonization. They knew we weren't going anywhere, except under, en masse.
Their plan can be thwarted, though, if there's a collective will, but first, we must see through their lies, and call out the liars.
"No way I'm going to stick my chicken neck out for nothing! I'm not going to dox myself!"
Acquiescing, you'll be forced to wear a "health" bracelet, or have a coin-sized chip implanted in your skull. Since happiness, relief, anger or arousal, etc., can be measured, the state will be instantly alerted to your incorrect response to a face, text or sound, as emitted by your Samsung or Apple tracking device.
It's hard to be amputated from your portable porn theater, vanity broadcast and selfie camera, I know.
Already, our lives are mostly virtual. We've been eased, all along, into lockdown, but life, all of it, must be reclaimed.
Linh Dinh's latest book is Postcards from the End of America. He maintains a regularly updated photo blog.
Promise it won't last? Seriously, is it getting worse first, 'cause that's what I think. A lot of us are forming new communities, and it does help.