The Covidalist, his G-Spot and the Anti-Mensch-Machine

The unthinkable has become normality: in the midst of modern cosmopolitan Europe, millions of people are converting to a deeply malignant death cult characterised by Stone Age superstition, strict segregation, and invasive rituals of subjugation. Those who won’t participate in the cult are publicly declared »undesirables« who must be removed from society. At all costs. With religious zeal, cult members insist on being segregated, separated, imprisoned and disenfranchised according to biological characteristics, having injections administered, fluids extracted from orifices and wearing ritual face coverings. Not under duress, at gunpoint. Nope. Completely voluntarily.

(Please bear with me, dear reader, for being so straightforward in my bewilderment, but I am writing live, I am aghast, and my thoughts are developing exactly as you see them written here. Thanks for that, btw.)

Yes, voluntariness. A blessing if we are aware of it, a curse if not. Even the devil makes treaties. And if we don’t agree, he is powerless. Hundreds of movies, thousands of stories told us about this. Your consent is needed. It’s the core element that makes everything possible. Or impossible. And with this word the whole misery begins – and ends.

There is a thesis in sociology according to which every society, no matter how perfectly developed, destroys itself after a certain time, to be replaced by a new one. I find this thesis plausible, but I never knew how I should picture it. From the technical point of view, how exactly does a society break down? Maybe like Chinese consumer electronics, one day after the warranty period has expired? Bzzzz, dead, gone? Is Covidalism the short circuit that now razes our civilization, which has been based on the striving, growing and creating of the last five thousand years, to the ground?

There might be something to it. For there is not much genuine striving, growing and creating happening anymore. The striving for something higher, for something beautiful and true has given way to a fearful collective holding of breath. In Covidalism, there is no »I am«, of which Gurdjieff knew how hard one has to work to understand it, and what realisation is inherent in it. In Covidalism, only the anonymous de-individualized WE counts; the robotic shell without inner life. The WE that psychopaths like Stalin and Mao dreamed of, and that Yevgeny Zamyatin described precisely in 1919 in the novel of the same name. (Which also happens to be the novel Eric Blair, alias George Orwell, took large parts from and turned them into his much more popular 1984. If you are interested, I have written about it before: We – when utopias are outrun by reality.)

Our formerly highly developed flourishing cultural landscape from cute dilettantism and kitsch to powerful indie experiments and cosy bourgeoisie to impressively high-gloss productions might not have been perfect, but it was beautiful. Because everyone could find their place and stage in it. Now it is being blown to pieces and sacrificed to the cult. Even traditional churches, concert halls and theatre stages are no longer accessible to non-cult members. And the Covidalist means business. Anyone who does not convert to Covidalism is an infidel that needs to not exist.

But not only culture, also the vital amenities of everyday life are now reserved exclusively for cult members. Non-Covidalists are forbidden to use public transport, retail outlets, doctors‘ surgeries, hospitals, schools, universities or restaurants.

And this ban is enforced. By the Untertan himself, who acts as a dedicated denunciator, controller and enforcer in one, and who does not even stop at slobbering publicly about the „unvaccinated“ in an extremely spiteful manner that knows neither ethical boundaries nor factual reference, but can only be described as sedition and vicious incitement of the masses. When did this transformation happen? How will the Untertan ever get out of this mess when, after the 23rd »virus variant« and the 13th »booster«, he realises that he was wrong and has been duped by a fake? After he has so fiercely and hatefully defended the fake? This immense emotional damage cannot be repaired with a laconic »yeah I guess you guys may have had a point.«

In order to cover up their hateful approach, Covidalists like to preach about the common good, to which one should selflessly sacrifice one’s own life, including one’s own health.

That is why the Untertan is perfectly ok with the unvaccinated being declared the enemy and rigorously removed from all public life. However, the good Untertan is still undecided as to how this removal should be done. Perhaps he would like to intern them in camps for a while? Nooo, cries the Covidalist, not that! One would just have to,um, do something, so that they are, um, no longer there. Aha. I see.

Do something about the undesirables? Wow. My stomach turns when I hear terms like these. I am not old enough to personally remember the 1930s here in Germany, but I do remember the 1960s-80s and what happened in the Sovjet sector of Germany, called GDR. I never thought I’d see anything like this happening again, this time even in multiple countries around the world.

Paradoxically, the Covidalist denies any tendency towards totalitarianism. Which reveals his doublethink psychosis. In Covidalism, it is considered chic to speak out against vaccine passports and discrimination policies, while demanding forced testing, vaccination, medication, abolition of personal rights and freedom of movement, and abrogation of body autonomy at the same time. Cognitive dissonance, anyone?

The Vanilla Sky intro

Nice family film in 90s style, with an ingenious story and a brilliant Tom Cruise in the leading role. The hero is waking up inside a dream, supposedly getting up and going out. Surprised that no one is to be seen. Running, searching, wondering what happened, desperate, the only living being among artificial props of a world stage – only to wake up in bed to the alarm clock and realise, with relief, that it was only a dream, and the, ahem, world was as neat and orderly as it was supposed to be. Or was it?

I know that feeling. Two years ago, reality as we knew it began to collapse. Or should I say, the illusion began to collapse? Shortly before, the global derivatives bubble had already burst, the redeployment of money, people, data, material assets and papers was in full swing. The not-so-secret flights between the USA and China, the stopovers in Germany, the suicides in politics, the IT sector and high finance – momentous, far-reaching upheavals. Although they took place before everyone’s eyes and are still taking place, the public wasn’t interested. Casting shows, celebrity gossip and gender-correct weather reports were more important. It was only much later, when the fairy tale of the Chinese market and an infectious bat was simultaneously launched by the mass media in more than 150 countries around the world, that one or two people raised their heads in amazement and began to assume that maybe something was going on.

Since then, what I call, for lack of a more appropriate term, society has split into two currents. A faceless, speechless, identity-less fear-stricken army of Untertans for whom no instruction is too absurd not to be obeyed. And into clear-thinking, self-determined individuals who know that none of what is currently being sold to them as reality is real, and who have to keep the disintegrating pieces of the backdrop at bay every day anew with a lot of mental strength so as not to get trapped underneath. Because the danger is real. Unfortunately the »waking up« thingy doesn’t happen as quickly as in the movie. However, the protagonist only wakes up to be frozen and uploaded shortly afterwards, but of course that’s not possible in real life *ahem* so unrealistic. Preposterous. Technically unfeasible *ahem, ahem* For that to happen, the world’s seven largest IT and financial corporations would first have to join forces, devise an AI concept with a human interface and DNA editing capability that would do no less than abolish the physical human existence, plus the extraction of consciousness… um… wait…

(Ah, starting to feel something?)

The Anti-Mensch-Machine

Two years ago, some 150 countries around the world embarked on a monstrous dehumanisation programme that nullifies the very rights and values of the human family with a stroke of the pen. This by no means required – as generally assumed – governments to sit down together and agree on a plan. No, this synchronisation was and is carried out by a force greater and more malevolent than any so-called government. It could be crudely titled the occult IT, transhumanism and finance complex. But that is only half the point. Of course, digital and financial networks play an important role in operating the machine. But the builders of the behemoth are elsewhere. (This is the point where a door should open up in your subconscious. If not, it doesn’t matter, it will happen later. In the meantime, maybe read a few ancient fairy tales to relax. The Red Shoes, or The Girl with No Hands, or Rumpelstiltskin. Or the aforementioned WE by Yevgeny Zamyatin, or Siegfrid Lenz‘ Deutschstunde, or maybe a bit of E.T.A. Hoffmann, or Gurdjieff, oops, I’m repeating myself –

»Das hat dir der Teufel gesagt.«

»Träumst du?«

»Erkenne dich selbst. Dann erkennst du Gott.«

»Was meinst du, wenn du sagst, ich bin?«

»Schöpfer und Geschöpf einer Welt, die –

Two years later, and the Anti-Mensch-Machine is running like clockwork. Fully automatic, relentless, impersonal. We have lost some of the things that distinguish humans from soulless objects. The will to self-defence, the need for physical and emotional integrity. Freedom of travel. Freedom of speech. The pursuit of happiness, of higher things, of understanding, clarity, knowledge, beauty. The desire for freely chosen and physically lived bonds, closeness, intimacy. The need for free spiritual education, professional practice and creative work. Lots of our lived cultural, scientific and economic achievements. Non-digital stage culture, art and music. Time. A lot of life time.

None of this was taken from us by force. The Untertan has voluntarily evolved back into an anonymous army of infantile, dependent sycophants who not only accept a livestock-like lifestyle, but even enjoy it. Passive, reactionary, managed by computers, with muzzle gags, breeding certificates and ear tags from the meat inspector; faceless, nameless, speechless, well trained, in narrow gates and cages. The Untertan feels comfortable in there, as long as the automatic feeder regularly supplies him with food, and the TV sprinkles the daily dose of hate, lies and fear over it.

What drives the Anti-Mensch-Machine?

Above I wrote that the machine is big and vicious. Larger than anything we have known so far in terms of political or religious monstrosities. And this is precisely its weakness. This size needs a hell of a lot of energy to keep functioning and carry out its work of destruction. Take this energy away, and it immediately stops, groaning and crunching; it will rust and disintegrate into nothingness. But how do we withdraw the energy from it?

To understand this, we have to get up for a moment, go to the bathroom, turn on the light and look in the mirror. The correct question is: Who is driving this machine? The answer is as short as it is uncomfortable: we drive it. You and me. That is neither a blame nor an accusation, just simple physics.

Ich. Du. Wir alle.

You as a promoter who organises 1G/2G/3G events and makes sure that non-cult-members stay locked out. Well, at least until you yourself have to close down as a thank you for so much obedience.

You as a restaurateur, who in recent years liked to present yourself as left-liberal, but now switches hard and fast to lineal totalitarianism and segregates people on the basis of biological characteristics, and turns them away at the door. Until, as a reward for so much cadaverous obedience, you get the order to close up shop.

You as a media honcho who makes a mockery of the term journalist because you don’t research, reflect, check for truth and formulate a single original sentence yourself, but conveniently and robotically recite the propaganda blah of the machine and vomit it into the distribution channels.

You as a pastor who now only opens his church to those who have converted to the Anti-Mensch kult and denies free, good and healthy people access to church service.

You as a so-called truther who pretends to know everything from the four lock-step scenarios to alien invasions and geoengineering to secret military operations, but steadfastly refusing to take any really deep look at reality; while you are foaming at the mouth in the wildest »everyone’s sheeple except me« style, churning out one so-called revelation video after another. Behind a paywall, of course.

You as a musician who has completely forgotten what a privilege and honor it is to be a performing artist. Now you play exclusively for Covidalists and have no problem with arbitrarily selected groups of people being segregated and locked out. How very rock’n’roll. Isn’t music supposed to bring people together and bridge racial, cultural and political gaps?

You as a businessperson who deny service to anyone who refuses to share their personal medical records with you, which are absolutely zero of your business. Ever heard of the good old concept of respecting each other’s privacy?

You as a teacher who forces schoolchildren to drown themselves in disinfectant, wear masks for hours, test their bodily fluids, stand motionless on an idiotic sticker during the break, and poison the innermost family cell with killer phrases like »you don’t have to tell your parents you’re getting vaccinated, we can do it right here, it’s out little secret« in tried and tested Stasi style.

And of course YOU as a silent follower, who somehow doesn’t think it’s all so great, but comply anyway. It’s not so bad, it doesn’t hurt, and maybe if the dumb unvaccinated would just join in, it will soon be better…

No. You should have understood that by now. No matter how far you humiliate yourself, grovel, obey and crawl up Big Brother’s anus so high you can trim his nose hair, no matter how many people you bully, it won’t get any better. As long as you play your role as a de-individualised Untertan and fuel supplier, the Anti-Mensch-Machine keeps running. It feeds on subservience, fear, collective ugliness, laboriously suppressed violence, shame, guilt and anger. (And because it is pitch dark today and the recipe of this potent machine fuel may have slipped through too quickly, I say it again: subservience, fear, ugliness, suppressed violence, shame, guilt, anger). This is all yours. It has nothing whatsoever to do with the unvaccinated.

That is why the Untertan is the strongest energy supplier. He who almost collapses under the weight of his conformity, his unresolved conflicts and unspoken issues and therefore uses every chance to release pressure and give away a little of this fuel cocktail. He who consumes television daily, hallucinates about exploding infection rates, a pandemic of the unvaccinated and necessary caution measures, and gleefully devours every turd, no matter how foul-smelling, that is served to them by the sock puppets on the theatre stage. Even more, he is not satisfied with putting his own life at service of the Anti-Mensch-Machine, he demands the same of his family, friends, colleagues, his entire environment.

Do you remember how they used to take our body temperature at the entrance prior big concerts in the 70s, 80s, or 2 years ago?

How security checked medical reports, DNA samples and swabs? How medical staff checked concert-goers for lice, herpes, pneumonia, fungal infections, norovirus, malaria or gonorrhoea? How railway station staff disinfected passengers at the entrance to long-distance trains and subways, and how everyone had to wear gloves and face masks to make sure the trains stay a safe place? Or how children from 1 to 10 years of age were always locked up in epidemic wards until they had all been cured of typical childhood diseases, to protect the vulnerable? Or how going to the movies required a psychiatric certificate to prove that one could watch the trigger-saturated action film without spontaneously going berserk and sending other guests to the afterlife? Or how one had to show an antibody test for hepatitis before ordering dinner in a restaurant? No? Yeah, me neither.

The Covidalist does not ask these questions. He is afraid of fresh air. He needs strict rules and guidance, finds the Chinese-style social credit system a pleasant yardstick and feedback provider. He has no forbidden thoughts and no need to escape the grasp of an encroaching fictional authority. Nor does he miss anything, for he does not remember what he once was. Before he became a scalable, harvestable, reproducible object with no individual depths. Before –

Can nobody stop the madness?

The question is not formulated precisely here. Does no one WANT to stop this madness, we should ask. So, who wants to stop it? Who dares to make this giant leap from the cosy lukewarm bathing frog in the saucepan out onto the cold worktop, onto the windowsill, and out into the garden? In winter, to boot?

(At this point please fade in früppfrüppfrüpp cricket chirping)

I like crickets. Along with the singing of birds and the sound of ocean waves, it’s such a pleasant sound of nature that I love to hear when I go to sleep and when I wake up. Wait… Aren’t frogs hungry after hopping out of the pot? And don’t they eat crickets? Maybe you’d rather stay in there… See? This is how chaotic-associative thoughts run when it comes to breaking habits! And that’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s human. Something that the Anti-Mensch-Machine and its builders will never understand.

Not playing along, but how?

I’m not typing a funny travelogue about rabbit-hole excursions on the subject of hijacked human history, technical-demonic occupation, fragmentation of a presumed causal coherence, vertical timeline or about the many reality models, however edited, manipulated and manifested, in which our immortal souls have been having all kinds of hilarious parties for eons, without remembering afterwards how we ended up on the sofa on which we wake up hungover the next day….

(did I forget a keyword? No? Good.)

These things are discussed in another theatre. Also, the Untertan does not enjoy parties of this kind. He does hardly dare to turn the music up and dance with his eyes closed in his own kitchen, because even that little bit of euphoria, transcendence and letting go would dent his view of the world. And because he so stubbornly refuses to use his eyes to see, his heart to feel and his mind to understand, his perception goes no further than from tile to wall. The Big Brother protocols give him the illusion of certainty and „I am doing the right thing, no need to question anything.“

(Still human.)

The Untertan lives in a conundrum that shows him his own sad psychosis and reality at the same time. He longs for love and understanding but fears embraces, other people, foreign cultures and any kind of freedom. Yes, he even allows himself to be instrumentalised and enthusiastically clears the way for the Anti-Mensch-Machine by eliminating the enemy. The enemy, that is the independently thinking, consciously living human being who does not allow his humanity and his inalienable rights to be taken away from him for a second, and who simply refuses to cooperate with the machine. With the simple magic word NO.

I have been living this NO since the switch was flipped here in Germany on 9th March 2020 and a single phone call changed everything. The concert was just over, and suddenly words like »cancel the tour, get out of Germany immediately«, »travel ban«, »lockdown« and »quarantine« were buzzing where music, laughter and red wine used to set the tone. That evening, that night, the course was set. Some guests spontaneously fell into a shock trance and have not woken up from it to this day. For me it was rather the other way round. The alarm clock rang, see above. I didn’t panic, on the contrary. I felt a clear, non-negotiable NO to the bizarre war game that was being set up live before our eyes. Small word, big changes.

NO to the cult, YES to life

In plain language: It’s not about whether someone is vaccinated or tested or recovered. It’s about the fact that it’s nobody’s business. What someone does with their own body is a private matter. Whether someone takes injections, swallows pills, has tapeworms inserted, smokes camel shit, gets tattoos, pierces, rolls in cottage cheese, gets vaccinated against 43 diseases at the same time or only leaves the house with a gas mask on during a full moon for fear of imaginary and real diseases, it’s nobody else’s business. Yes, even during a (real or imaginary) pandemic. Human beings – even if some Untertans like to behave like that – are not livestock whose medical treatment or killing is decided by some meat factory!

Forced medical interventions, whether smear tests or injections, violate the Nuremberg Code and human rights. The forced segregation of people according to biological characteristics constitutes a crime. Both issues are non-negotiable and cannot be justified by anything. Neither are the wet dreams of megalomaniac transhumanists who aspire to edit human DNA to create an optimised Untertan. Anyone who supports such a thing makes himself a perpetrator. And those who justify it by saying that »I was just following orders« put themselves on a par with the worst cults in history. Which, by the way, always had their heyday shortly before their society collapsed…

There they are again, the two streams. They come from the same source, and at some point they will flow into the same sea. At the moment they only see each other from a distance and find each other equally shitty. The Untertan hates free people because they question the illusion and the narrative that goes with it. While the hierarchy-free, conscious people feel anger and deepest sadness in the face of Covidalism and what it does to its devotees.

(Speaking of livestock, have you ever seen a pig courageously jump out of a transporter on the motorway, roll over, run away injured, until it is rescued and has a happy ending in a sanctuary? I have. Just recently. One look into the soulful, alert eyes of this brave life-loving creature showed me what I miss in the Untertan, regarding love of freedom, will to live, and dignity).

We still have a choice.

As gruesome as the current situation is, it also holds an opportunity. For what emerges from behind the collapsing scenery is real. It is true. Many have felt over the past years, or decades, that there is something rotten about the reality that’s been presented to us. About how we as human beings have functioned more than lived within our social networks, logistics and societies. There have been many opportunities to sense this – and to immediately neutralize the sensation with logical-sounding explanations, before it became dangerous enough for us to question the illusion. Sometimes it was a financial crisis, then a migration crisis, in between a few political scandals, or climate crisis – all decorative hooks on which one can hang the rucksack full of „something is wrong here“ perceptions and forget them. Until the janitor cleans up, problem solved.

Well, now the janitor has retired to Lanzarote and is sunbathing, the rucksacks are overflowing and piling up, the hooks are breaking out of the wall, the rucksacks are emptying their dangerous cargo so that it will finally be taken note of. We can no longer ignore what is rotten, because we are knee-deep in it.

No matter how brutally the Anti-Mensch-Machine rages, it no longer manages to uphold the disintegrating illusion. We see people as they are. We see things as they are. Not as we would like them to be. And can now answer the big question that so many philosophers couldn’t: Who do I mean when I say »I am«? What remains of »I« when what we thought belonged to us on the outside dissolves? With whom am I connected in love and trust, right now? What is true? And what do I now recognise as a lie, as an illusion?

And bam, the next chance: if we know what is not true, we can withdraw all energy from it. How, what, withdraw it? Single little me? Yes. Single little you. It doesn’t take an army of millions, to send the Anti-Mensch-Machine into a skid. It is enough if you (yes, you who are reading this and wondering what the hell you are supposed to do) look at the rucksack cargo in front of you. Look at the perfidious lies and illusions they have sold you as reality. So cleverly sold that you have aligned your life with it. Give yourself a bear hug and don’t beat yourself up – trust me, we all got screwed. Now you see what’s what and you can treat those lies for what they are: not real. Useless. You can let them go and deal with what you now know is real, genuine and true. You feel the difference, don’t you? Be honest – you feel it. You’ve been feeling it all along. That’s why you’ve stuffed your backpack so full and kept yourself so busy.

Covidalism and its seismic shock waves do not mean the end of our world, even if it feels like it. It is merely the end of an illusion.

A mind-blowing opportunity. A chance to find clarity, light-filled, pure, true, courageous clarity. Beauty. Creativity, living energy of creation. The Covidalists do not have this chance, at least not yet. They are currently dissolving in their cult collective, incarcerated in lightless ideologies of division and dependency; chained to walls of fear, lies and hatred of anything that questions the illusion.

The next months, maybe years, could still be difficult. The Anti-Mensch-Machine has only just warmed up. But soon – yes, soon – the moment will come that is inevitable in any war: the moment when it becomes clear that all the division, all the hatred, all the emotionally charged »us against them« was one completely stupid artificial shit borrowed from binary signal processing. An illusion that had nothing to do with us living souls. And not with a virus either.

Even the Untertans in their dungeons cannot avoid this realisation (and that thing with the rucksacks.) The dungeon walls are already crumbling. It just takes a bit longer than with us. Should I help them climb out of the rubble? I would love to. But I don’t know.

I am not holding grudges, but I have a good memory. And the Untertans are currently raging like chainsaws on meth. What they’ve been butchering over the last few months, regarding friendships and trust, is not so easy to fix. A »ok, maybe you were right, I guess it wasn’t all true about the pandemic and the vaccination, but…« would be pure mockery. I don’t want to be right. I don’t care who is right. Nor does reality, by the way. Reality is what it is.

The Untertans need to be right. For them, only numbers count. So-called case numbers. Incidence rates. Mortality rates. Hospital capacity rates. Vaccination rates. Infection rates. Variants. Fictitious numbers, but the Untertans, the cult members live by them. Because they have reduced their own self to a medical QR code. Ready for upload into the illusion. THIS is the pandemic.

We have a choice. We can choose to be a de-individualised Untertan, a Covidalist, a fear-driven malevolent cult member – or a living, loving, soulful, creative human being.

How many fancy sounding virus variants and boosters and lockdowns do you need until the penny drops? Until you accept the simple truth – that none of this has, or ever had, anything to do with public health and the common good?

Let’s talk about the rucksack again. What does yours look like? What’s in it? Dare to look at it. Calmly, and without blaming yourself. Do you realise that most of it are grotesque lies and distortions that were only so powerful because you wanted to believe them? Do you realise how poisonous and oppressive these lies and illusions are? And what they have made you do? Good. Why don’t you let go, just for a moment? Just to feel what it’s like to live without them. You don’t need a law, a OR-code, or validation from anyone. Focus on what you know is true. You can feel it, don’t you? So act on it. Just give it a try. You will be amazed at how things change immediately when this toxic baggage, lies and hate are no longer on the agenda. I wish it for you with all my heart. Maybe then we can talk to each other again. One day. Maybe.

The best time to say NO to the Anti-Mensch-Machine was a year and a half ago. The second best time is now.

Love,

Kathrin

More English columns