THE STAND: Between the Devil & the Deep Blue Sea

THE STAND: Between the Devil & the Deep Blue Sea

October 11, 2017

by Doug “Uncola” Lynn:

In the summer of 1985 I was taking some college classes at a nearby university and working two part-time jobs. Most nights I was involved with a local martial arts club and on the weekends I would spend time with one of my two girlfriends.  Although that last part may sound somewhat sordid, in reality, it was pretty harmless. The girls both knew of each other and understood I was taking some time to decide.  Unfortunately for them, however, I left both behind upon meeting another gal that July.  She is my wife today.

Looking back at those few months centered between the fall and spring seasons of that year, I believe it was the time in my life where I felt the most autonomous and carefree.  It was also the summer that I read Stephen King’s, The Stand.  Although the book was published as a hardcover in 1978, my version (which I still own) was the 1980 paperback edition that changed the story’s timeline to events beginning in June of 1985.  Ironically, this was the very month when I started reading the book.  The coincidence resonated with me at the time and was what I considered to be a universe-inspired “agreement”; a designation I picked up while reading Carlos Castaneda’s “Don Juan” some years before.

A classic novel of good versus evil, “The Stand”  was also later produced as a television and comic series.  It depicts the breakdown of American society following the inadvertent airborne dispensation of a mutant flu virus from a military laboratory in Texas.  After a short while, the pandemic killed 99.4% of the global population.  In America, the extant wandering individuals and scanty bands of straggling survivors began to coalesce while being preternaturally sifted by dreams of a 100+ year-old Negro woman from Nebraska as the representative of good; and a Caucasian man with long hair, wearing a denim jacket, blue jeans, and ever smiling, as the quintessential archetype of pure evil.

The ragtag remnants of those drawn to kindness and liberty, eventually established a democratic society known as the “Free Zone” in Boulder, Colorado; whereas those gravitating to power, the wicked, and those simply desiring the trains to run on time congregated in Las Vegas under the tyrannical rule of their demonic leader, often referred to as “The Walking Dude”.

 

 

In a story of civilizational collapse, restoration, friendship, courage, desire, betrayal, violence, bloodshed, and volition, both the inhabitants of the Free Zone and those in Vegas understood that a confrontation was unavoidable, largely because the leaders in Sin City could not tolerate the existence of free people.  It is then that a few decent men, acting on faith alone, chose to walk over the mountains and through the desert to make their stand before the evil ones strategically lodged on the Vegas Strip.

For reasons the readers may guess, I have lately been contemplating Stephen King’s story of “The Stand”.  Although conveyed in the intriguing, delightfully entertaining, and thought-provoking manner befitting what has now become a cult classic, the narrative is reminiscent of a thousand timeworn tales previously told. Epic tragedies from the ancient old. Legends of rise and decline; of innocents slaughtered; the meek and the bold; of murder and mayhem, and prophecies foretold.

In another story recently published in the New Yorker, and written by the liberal activist Ronan Farrow, another familiar apologue has been recounted. It is simply another rendition of the beauties and the beast; this version, however, describing the debauched drama of Hollywood Harvey Weinstein, a predator extraordinaire, who wickedly transformed his female associates into whores.  Paradoxically, the author of this non-fiction account, Mr. Farrow, is a darling of the political left whose own father, Woody Allen, married his sister and thus became his brother-in-law. So confusing. Yet, within this sad tale of predation, evasion, and eventual triumph, Farrow wrote:

 

It’s likely that women have recently felt increasingly emboldened to talk about their experiences because of the way the world has changed regarding issues of sex and power. These disclosures follow in the wake of stories alleging sexual misconduct by public figures, including Bill O’Reilly, Roger Ailes, Bill Cosby, and Donald Trump.

 

It is quite illuminating to see Donald Trump’s despised words of female genital grasping conflated with the genuine actions of the evil Weinstein, as well as with the alleged misdeeds of three conservative miscreants, with no mention made to the largest predator of all, the master-stainer of blue dresses and alleged Juanita Broaddrick rapist, William J. Clinton.  It appears the Horrible, Hunchbacked Harvey, the former benefactor of the Democratic Party and purveyor of liberal Hollywood politics, has now been jettisoned from the lofty tower of the wealthy elite in an ostentatious sacrifice to appease the plebs; and, covertly, conceal the malevolent misdeeds of the sanctimonious haut monde.

We’re not fooled.

And in another tower of terror, this one similar to the expropriated Las Vegas high-rise dwelling place of Stephen King’s fictional Walking Dude, a different, real-life, maliciously monstrous madman willingly let loose the dogs of hell in an unprecedented and wanton display of unmitigated evil. The alleged and nefarious plans of Stephen Paddock, supposedly, gave rise to bullets rained down onto the commoners below.  Yet even this woven tale of woe, does not ring true, and appears to be at variance to any typical All-American brand of white terrorism as portrayed in the pernicious playbook of Caucasian Lone Wolfdom.  In May of this year, ISIS posted video of the Las Vegas strip on social media and called for “lone –wolf” terrorist attacks”; and now, days after last week’s onslaught, the wicked ones still persistently claim credit for the massacre:

 

…leaving observers wondering why the global militant group would risk making such an outlandish, intentionally false allegation.

 

 

At the same time, Rocky Palermo, a victim of the Vegas carnage, claims there were three to five shooters, including some inside the venue, at the Route 91 Harvest Music Festival where 58 people lost their lives.  Furthermore, it has become clear that the cops who can’t shoot straight initially lied about the timeline of events the night of the attack.

So let’s get this straight:  The authorities in our great Surveillance States of America can’t protect us, but now they want to use this tragedy to further their agenda of gun control? To additionally diminish the legal rights of law abiding citizens seeking to defend themselves, and their loved ones, from the demons whom the government is unable to forestall?

Years ago, I watched the video below of Suzanna Gratia Hupp’s testimony to Congress. Hupp survived a mass shooting at Luby’s Cafeteria in Killeen, Texas in 1991 where a rogue of Satan shot 44 people, killing 24 of them, including both of Hupp’s parents.  When you have time, watch the first 5 minutes and 20 seconds of her testimony in the below video, and take special note of the sinisterly smug expression on the fiendishly diabolical face of Chucky Schumer at both the 2:41 – 2:48 and 4:55 – 4:56 marks. Does this man appear to have the best interests of the American people at heart?  Did the testimony of Suzanna Hupp change Schumer’s political positioning against the Second Amendment? Obviously not.  But why?

 

 

Perhaps it’s because our leaders are not our friends.  I wonder if they never were.

But at least the National Football League has finally realized the power of a patriotic people, right? NFL commissioner Roger Goodell has finally seen the light. Yes, thanks to the efforts of President Donald Trump and a percentage of vehemently vacating gridiron fans, Goodell has now bravely addressed the perfidious kneelers in a call for national unity.  Hopefully, the league and the entire country will unite in time for any imminent wars with North Korea, China, Iran, and Russia.

Today, dear friends, we stand before a great precipice; a valley deep and wide, and separated by opposing forces of dark and light. In the days ahead, both wheat and tare alike will be mowed down, or harvested, with equal prejudice and nonchalance. The survivors will remain.  The Ship of State will toss about and capsize causing those from stem to stern to roil in the depths of the violent tide before swimming to shore; any shore.

Of course, as recently demonstrated in Las Vegas, the surveillance state cannot, or will not, keep Americans safe, in spite of their promises as written into the Patriot Act and every other one of their invasive, impotent, and misguided legislations. This is because passing laws is never about safety. It’s about control, and power, pure and simple.  The Elected Ones openly defy their oath of office in broad daylight and the entire world witnesses the hubris, while the archaic Establishment Media abdicates their solemn responsibility to safeguard liberty, truth, and honor.  Indeed, the propagandic purveyors of the Lamestream Media, have, instead, become the enemies of freedom via their intentional campaigns of misinformation and outright deception.

 

 

But that’s not all.

Today, strange technologies have given birth to sex-bots that have been created and conscripted to satisfy the most soulless and masturbatory whims of perverts and pedophiles; and in the other extreme, designer war-bots that will soon be set upon the earth.  Killers to the right. Deviants above, below, and all around.  Tyrants on the left.  We are surrounded; caught between the devil and the deep blue sea; between hellfire’s damnation and oblivion.

It is time to decide. We could leave, but where would we go?  We could get up, or lay back down.  We could take a knee. There are so many choices.  If waging war on stupid ever proved to be of any benefit, we could establish positions and engage the enemy on all fronts. Or we could sit down, lean back, and watch it unfold.  As for me?  I’ve made my choice. I’m right here.  Here, I’ll stand.

2 thoughts on “THE STAND: Between the Devil & the Deep Blue Sea

  1. Doug, I think I may have got myself excluded — if not “banned” (perhaps as in Bannon?) — from posting comments on TBP, which site has posted your posts for sometime. If so, I can chalk up TWO such notches on my own writings! (The first was Brandon Smith’s “Alt-Market” site, a longer story than fits here.) Thus, shortly, within a day or so, I’ll post a comment on your latest.

    I have a practice of parking very voluminous — as well as much thinner — books in my bathroom. I take quite a while (compared to others, at least per wife!) to complete my business and move on with the day. Over the past few years, i have read, daily in such a manner, several remarkable works, including Michael Hoffman’s “The Occult Renaissance Church of Rome” and the first volume of “The Secret Relationship Between Blacks and Jews”, published by the Nation of Islam.

    After many, many years, I took up reading recently of Stephen King’s memoir on “Writing”, once again chuckling at his horrible (!) sense of humor and, no doubt with the assistance of his long-time editor, (2) his pithy turn of phrase! I read over the years — TWICE — the first paperback version of The Stand, then bought the UNEXPURGATED version of his book. So I do have some thoughts to share inspired by your post here.

    I hope you do not exclude me the way Admin, “Maggie”, and “Stucky” tossed me out of TBP.

    I would not expect that of you. I did not expect that of TBP, either. Funny how Las Vegas fits both my comments on Robert Gore’s post and The Stand — the bomb in SK’s book went off in Las Vegas, as I recall. No accidents in the Universe, eh?

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  2. I saw a little of the fracas over at TBP between you and some of the other posters there. I wouldn’t take it personally. You will know you are banned if your IP address is blocked and you get an error message when you try to go to the site. As long as you can still read and comment at TBP you are not banned. Sometimes the posters there get nasty just to see what you’re made of. Again, it really isn’t personal. No worries, Alan.

    Uncola

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