Satire by: Bill The Butcher
And the dopamine kicks in
Alex Jones had a formula. It was simple, actually. Hang your audience over a cliff, and then hand ‘em a rope that only you could provide. You see, when you tell folks that the entire government is out to get them, and everything you eat is poison it incites panic. Kinda like when your wife and girlfriend meet up at Starbucks. Then, you tell about a solution, and the dopamine kicks in, the air clears up, the angels sing, and the skies are free of all them nasty old chemtrails. Praise the Lord!
As if we didn’t have enough to worry about the government hit us with the new, improved seasonal flu two or three years ago and then fixed it to where we couldn’t even step out to a bar to drink off the stress. They put an old reptile bait in charge who imposed more rules on us than the boys in cellblock three. Civil War? Try mask war! Then came the jab. Nobody could spell vaccination so they figured that word was a kinder, friendlier term. As of yesterday Fauci even admitted that the shot really didn’t work, but they’ve got all these inoculations stacked up behind the White House and can’t even sell the needles to the Homeboys!
Ol’ Alex had a cure
But Ol’ Alex had a cure for all that! Just swallow one of his lead infused pills and everything was gonna be OK! Heck! It worked for the Romans, didn’t it? And Jones rocked along pretty good texting nude pictures of his wife (how can I get one of those) to Rodger Stone, and digging up graves in Connecticut right up until his lawyer gave away the entire contents of his cell phone to the opposing lawyer during his slander trial. He’d have looked better trying to explain himself to Cris Hansen after showing up with rubbers and a six pack!
But, his methods were sound. I mean, anybody who can sell the idea of gay frogs has got to have something on the ball, wouldn’t you say? Well, we at the Butcher Shop picked up on Alex’s method so in the interest of continuity we give you . . . The Time Machine!
Back in the day
Surely you’ve heard the term Back in the Day, implying That Day was somehow better than these days. And perhaps it was. Even if the recollection of events wasn’t accurate, memories could be imposed giving history a rosy glow. If we could just step into a time machine in 2022 and step out in 1956! Wouldn’t that be wunnerful?
Well, your government, and subsequent events are gonna give you just that. For all the chemtrails, super bugs, homosexual Popes, white supreamists, black lives mattering all over the place, and electric cars that blow up in your driveway it has now been ascertained that we’re running out of rare earth, this dog won’t hunt and is about to revert back to 1956! Can I have an Amen?
Y’all think I’m kidding?
Y’all think I’m kidding? There is a very astute socialist who wrote a book expounding just that. What’s rare earth? Don’t worry about it, there ain’t gonna be no more. Suffice to say your iPhone won’t work without it. From highly sophisticated communication device to paperweight in one easy step. And that ain’t all! Folks were all excited about Rowe v Wade biting the dust. Well they’re gonna get birth control and rubbers next. Bet that’ll keep your pants zipped up! I keep hearing about the recalling of interracial marriage too. Heck, let’s just go for it and have separate water fountains. It’s yesterday once more!
Now that I’ve scared the BeJesus out of 99,999% of the population I wanna give you the skinny. First, for all my ingenious humor, I’m not lying. It’s coming. This cellophane packaged world we’ve been living in couldn’t last forever. There is such a thing as rare earth and it is running out. Most, if not all the innovations we’ve grown accustomed to rely on it, and a host of other things to keep this big blue marble bouncing along. We are rushing lickity split for an analog world. What’s analog? Think Timex Watch. Not Rolex. . . Timex!
From your streaming Netflix to your Mr. Coffee
From your streaming Netflix to your Mr. Coffee, all reset to President Eisenhower. There’s your Great Reset! Screw Kiler Davenport! Global trade? Forget about it. Russia won’t we worried about Ukraine no more. They’ll be crying in the spot where the McDonalds used to be! And China! Saint-eyed foreigners who eat with sticks when they have something to eat. Hey! Eat each other. Tastes just like chicken.
It won’t be an overnight change. You’ll just wake up one day and your car won’t start. That’s because it lost its charge somewhere in the night. Someone will tell you about the Edsel, but that was before your time. Well the Edsel is now! You won’t be listening to conspiracy theories on the internet ‘cause there wont be no internet. No cable TV either. Good ol’ analog rabbit ears. With tin foil on the ends. Tin, not aluminum ‘cause that’s easier to spell. And you’re gonna love it. Don’t you wanna know why?
We were never meant for this world
Because we were never meant for this world we’re living in. Every preacher tells me so. You can only go so fast. Think so much. Sleep so little before you blow a gasket. In a world where a madman kills nineteen kids in school, and the cops stand in the hallway checking their Facebook. (Won’t be any more of that crap either!) in 1956 2.0 the parents will just show up, and hang him from the school flagpole for all the kids to see.
A Chevy Distributor Cap?
Won’t ever be a World War III because the world as we know it won’t exist anymore. Hey! Certainly you have heard of the idea that if you set off a nuclear bomb high in the sky that it fouls up all the cars and such because a majority of our civilization depends on computer control. Well what do you think guides them there ICBMs, A Chevy Distributor Cap? First strike wins! Never considered that, did ya? Better stop buying them Teslas!
“Well, back in the day . . .”
You’ll get up in the morning and take your Xtendovite with your coffee. You’ll feel better for it. Think about what a world it’s gonna be as the dopamine the Butcher Shop just gave you kicks in, and you listen to the news on your AM car radio, free of agendas dreamed up by Rupert Murdoch because you can handle the truth! Drop by the store and pick up about twenty bucks of groceries for the week. Sit around when you get home that night, and look at photo albums with the kids. And when they look at old pictures of you, and grandma, and grandpa they’ll ask you what all the masks were about. Just tell them, “Well, back in the day . . .”
It’s yesterday once more!
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