When people suggest that I’m just one of those sheep that follow people in authority blindly, I must admit that I have to agree with them. I mean, who am I to argue with them? I don’t actually think that I’m a sheep, but who am I to argue with someone who has a really strong opinion? Obviously, they have done the research and they have a really strong grasp of how it all works.
So, arguments about vaccinations and lockdowns and whether Gladys is gold standard I find difficult because I can see some really good points on all sides. It’s true that Big Pharma make enormous profits by selling us drugs we don’t need, but it’s also true that they supply drugs that actually keep people alive, even if they’re doing it for commercial rather than altruistic reasons.
I’m not a genius so I tend to rely on other people’s opinions a lot. You know, should I support a lockdown or will that just make me a sheep?
“No,” someone on Facebook told me, “you need to ignore the power structures and come and join us in protesting Covid restrictions.”
“But,” I suggested, “I’d rather not be in a large crowd of people before I’ve got my second vaccination.”
“YOU GOT A VACCINATION?” the person thundered. “Get away before you contaminate me with your shedding.”
“I don’t own a shed. I’m not very masculine when it comes to tools,” I tried to tell him, but he was probably out of earshot because this was a Facebook conversation and he’d stopped it before he could tell me what to do in order not to be a sheep.
Anyway, I couldn’t have gone to the protest without taking public transport and I never take public transport because – like renewable energy – it’s too unreliable. Like a coal-fired power station my car never lets me down.
My car just suddenly stopped working. I don’t know why, and unfortunately a very persuasive guy just convinced me that mechanics were just in it for the money and there’s no way that I need ever consult one again.
“Really?” I asked. “Because I’ve been told that I need to keep my car serviced so that it doesn’t use too much petrol.”
“Cars don’t need petrol,” he assured me. “That’s just a myth perpetuated by mechanics and oil companies. Cars run just fine on methane, which can be created from excrement.”
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“Positive,” he told me. “You can run your car on shit and the silly sheep spending money on petrol have never looked into that.”
“So you’ve successfully run your car on petrol?” I asked.
“Nah, I don’t have a car. Cars are part of the whole evil mechanistic world that controls us.”
I nodded. If someone who’d totally rejected automobiles wasn’t an expert on such things, then who was?
Next day, I collected as much dog poo as I could find and put it in the petrol tank and I continued to do that for several days.
Then, for no explicable reason, my car just stopped working. I’d take it to a mechanic but such people are simply wolves.
Not that I need to worry.
I’m not a sheep.
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