By Jenn Smith
[The following is from an email sent to a friend regarding the now almost complete censorship of my voice on almost all major platforms of communication, the suggestion that I matter as a person, and my psychological/spiritual response to that.]
“From loss and grief the Mind has become deranged. Therefore we, as parts of the universe, the Brain, are partly deranged.
Out of itself the Brain has constructed a physician to heal it. This subform of the Macro-Brain is not deranged; it moves through the Brain, as a phagocyte moves through the cardiovascular system of an animal, healing the derangement of the Brain in section after section. We know of its arrival here; we know it as Asklepios for the Greeks and as the Essenes for the Jews; as the Therapeutae for the Egyptians; as Jesus for the Christians.
To be ‘born again,’ or ‘born from above,’ or ‘born of the Spirit,’ means to become healed; which is to say restored, restored to sanity.”
– Philip K. Dick, Exegesis
I told Laura-Lynn Tyler Thompson a long time ago, that from the first moment I entered this struggle I knew my time would be limited. To be honest it has lasted much longer than I thought. Had I desired to do so, I probably could have scripted the way it would go. And here I am, right where I expected to be. I cannot advertise in the newspapers. Twitter has killed my account and I have lost access to my 3000 followers there. I can barely scratch my nose or look cross-eyed at anybody on Facebook anymore without being suspended. Facebook threatens now to permanently disable my account. Meanwhile, my opponents continue to use Facebook to spread their message and continually defame me and my message, while I’m unable to respond. As a political activist in BC, I regard Facebook’s actions as a form of political espionage.
I cannot communicate widely, cannot advertise, cannot rent public venues in major cities, cannot raise money. When the Press is not ignoring me, they are spreading lies and defamation about me, like everybody else. The alternative media now just simply ignores me, and the Post Millennial (at last check) has even deleted my articles making it almost as if I never wrote for them (although they forgot to delete my author page, but the links are dead). So here I am now, almost completely silent.
To be fair, the forces aligned against me are formidable. While I cannot presume to know the goals of what Adam Smith once called “the masters of mankind,” it appears at this time to be a giant psyop, something akin to a sorcerer’s spell. If true, it is a highly effective one. The populace at large appears completely mesmerized. All of the designated “smash the evil leftists” tough guy heroes are rising, Jordan Peterson, Ben Shapiro, Piers Morgan, Crowder, Rogan, and all of the other conservative champions of the corporate world are busy bravely battling the evil faux leftist boogeyman that the corporate and elite power structure itself has created. Even SOGI 123 has been funded by the corporate complex, including most recently a $200,000 donation from the Royal Bank.
But pay no attention to the men behind the curtain who are feverishly pulling the levers of power and who are now shutting off valves of communication (social media and digital media) that threaten their control, focus instead your attention on the flaming green glowing head of the leftist boogeyman. It appears to have all of the qualities of a giant sucker play, and all of the outraged have found faux heroes, but I will suggest that they have not found truth. They have found perpetual slavery. The censorship of Jenn Smith is a finger pointing to the totalitarian prison that is coming, and in many ways is already here. An invisible prison from which the masses will never escape because they cannot see the bars and they cannot hear the now distant voices of reason. What is worse, is that they have become their own wardens and prison guards, for as C.S.Lewis wrote, “Their prison is in their minds, yet they are in that prison; and so afraid of being taken in, that they cannot be taken out.”
So how does one fight such an enormous power in this world? Can one fight such a power? I suspect the answer is no, however I have always held an ace up my sleeve in the sense that I am not ruled by Dharma (roles, worldly order, and hierarchy) — I am ruled by Bhakti (supreme devotion to a Higher Power or cause).
So as the clouds in the sky of my mind clear and the sea of censorship parts in front of me, I can see the end of the road in the distance. They give you Dharma, they give you order, they give you hierarchy and control. They give you the most sophisticated form of invisible totalitarianism in the history of the world. And yet, above it all, and within at all, is God and Bhakti.
They think that they have silenced me, but that is because they don’t understand. As the propaganda bullets fly in every direction, as incendiary devices of mass distraction torch the landscape and people flee in every direction, somebody walks into the heart of it all — somebody terribly odd and terribly out of place — and utters an ancient and largely forgotten Divine counter-spell: “spes mea in Deo est.”
It is an enormous task and an enormous responsibility to stand up for something greater than yourself. Enormously difficult, potentially fatal, and yet it has to be done. Very few have this opportunity, and in that sense it is a kind of honour.
You are a very intuitive being, I sense this about you. You are very smart. But you are wrong about one thing. I don’t matter, I never did, and I never will. In ten thousand years it will be like I was never here. All that matters is the growth that occurs inside us, the ripples we send out to the world around us, and the faith we show in the God above us.
All roads come to an end. So the best that I can do with the last of my strength and the last of my time, is to toss as far as I can a pebble out into the waters of this world, and hope that the ripples will reach those and move those who can make a difference.
As for me, I have been painfully aware for a very long time that I am a mayfly. That I am at best a flash in the pan, a spark of gold that spills out into the stream the moment you try to clutch it, and then is gone forever. I don’t matter and I never did, except in the Mind and the Eye of my God, whom I must serve with however many breaths I have left in this world. That is Bhakti. And that is what separates me from them.