In this episode, a wise home-educated teenager infiltrates the dungeon of the state known as school.
I’m sending my son to a state run youth indoctrination center, better known as school, in order to see what goes on behind closed doors and, where appropriate, drop some truth bombs on the unsuspecting zombies. I have hopes that he’ll be kicked out by the afternoon for “insubordination” Make me proud, son!
The following is my 16-year-old son’s account of the school dungeon.
So it’s way too early for most people to focus on or learn anything. In order to enter this prison. I got my privacy violated and my body manhandled by mind-controlled morons wearing blue costumes. “For my safety,” they said. Anyway, I’m sitting here in science class at 7:45am. A cruel joke to imagine that anyone can pull off this superhuman feat of focusing and learning at this ridiculous hour.
Anyway, I’m surrounded by about 25 zombies. Most of them are staring blankly at the gibbering so-called teacher as he drones on and on about how terrible global warming is and how evil humans are for destroying the planet.
I figure it’s time to spice things up a bit by firing some truth beams at this lackey of the state apparatus.
I speak without raising my hand, “There are thousands of scientists who say that man-made global warming is a farce. Did you know that? Also, most of the so-called wildlife and green groups are funded by big oil. Have you read “The Limits To Growth” by the Club Of Rome?"
The middle-aged regurgitater of false info narrows his eyes, pats his paunch, and says, “No speaking out of turn, young man. We raise our hands in this classroom.”
I’m a bit taken aback that he basically didn’t even acknowledge anything I said. “When you sit around with your friends and have a conversation, do you raise your hand to speak?”
Now he looks like a lobster and huffs, “Young man, this is not a conversation, this is a lecture.”
I chuckle and say, “Have you personally verified a thing you’re preaching?”
He puts his hands on his hips and starts slowly walking towards me, “Young man, you are completely out of order. One more offense and I will be forced to discipline you.”
I ignore his comments and decide to get my money’s worth, “First of all, you should do independent research before you go telling people the information you present is the gospel truth. Do you know who printed the textbooks? Do you know how few publishing companies control the flow of academic information in the world? Getting back to global warming. Have you heard of Agenda 21? Do you really think that allowing corporations and bureaucrats to control our consumption of energy and use of natural resources is a good idea? Do you want to pay exponentially more to use less?”
“OUT!” he yells. “You’re going to the principal’s office at once!”
“You’re yelling at me and punishing me for giving alternative viewpoints and asking questions?”
“I’m punishing you for insubordination, young man! Now go!”
I shrug my shoulders and walk out proudly. Instead of going to the principal’s office I go to a nearby park to do some reading.
I make it back just in time to find a seat at the front of the poor excuse for a history class. Another middle-aged male with a pension to protect. This oughta be interesting.
Today’s subject: World War 2.
The indoctrinater drones on for a few minutes about how evil Hitler was, how heroic the Americans were, all the basics, nothing in detail or context.
Then he lets out a ripe question for the class, “How many people did Hitler kill?”
Without raising my hand, I answer, “Zero.”
Absolutely mortified by what he perceives to be an audacious answer, the indoctrinator squawks, “That’s not funny. Can anyone give a proper answer?”
I continue, “But that’s the truth. Millions of ignorant order-followers pulled millions of triggers to murder millions of people. Hitler, so far as I know, didn’t pull one trigger. All he did was give orders, and there were enough immoral order-followers to do the murdering for him. You shouldn’t ask such loaded questions.”
Completely in awe of my daring rhetoric, the pompous, pale, prison preacher retorts, “Hitler was the supreme authority of Germany!”
I cut him off by saying, “The only supreme authority in this world is Natural Law. All other claims to authority are illegitimate and should be ignored.”
Flabbergasted, the pompous preacher continues, “You are out of line and have no factual view of history.”
“And you have no knowledge or wisdom. All you do is spew what the textbooks say without thinking,” I fire back.
“One more word out of you and I will,” he starts.
I cut him off again, “Yeah, yeah, I know, questions and thinking aren’t allowed, or I’ll be punished. One last thing before I go. Did you know that international and American banks and corporations funded the Nazi war machine before and during the war? You should look into that.”
“Conspiracy theories are not tolerated! I’m sending you to the principal at once!”
“Can you define the word conspiracy?”
“OUT!”
I wander around until the end of the so-called class period. I dodge state-sponsored boys in blue and ponder what a free society might look like. It most definitely is diametrically opposed to the current human condition.
Later on, I mosey my way into economics class. This should be a hoot. I wonder how long it will take me to get ejected this time?
This time the indoctrinater is a puffy-cheeked young little artificial woman. Someone who has wisdom, imagination, courage, and will has a certain life and sparkle in their eyes. This biological robot before me has none of that.
She looks down on us arrogantly through her round spectacles and asks, “Can anyone tell me what inflation is?”
With zero hesitation, I blurt out, “Yeah, it’s a type of theft that criminal gangs of banksters do to wage war on everyone not in their psychopathic club.”
There is a moment of shocked, uncomfortable, and palpable silence. Her jaw drops and her little head swivels around the room, desperately seeking out someone who can regurgitate the answer she wants.
No one volunteers. It’s hard to be enthusiastic when you have a feeling that everything is BS.
“Well, it’s going to be on your next test, so I suggest you look it up in your textbook,” she says with a scowl.
I decide to turn the tables and ask a question of the so-called authority figure, “Can you tell me a definition of what money is?”
She giggles sarcastically and says, “Well, ok, that’s a nice question, I suppose. Money is a medium used to conduct trade.”
“However,” I interject, “In addition, it is used as a weaponized religion to control people.”
She laughs malevolently and starts to speak, but I cut her off.
“Also, I have a question as to the functionality of money as a medium of exchange. Why do so few people, via central banks that they own, have control over the money supply? If we live in a truly free-market system, then why is there a monopoly in currency creation in the hands of central banks, enforced by the threat of violence known as government? Shouldn’t anyone be able to create money? And why is money debt-based, and not production based?”
She stammers and stutters and it’s obvious she has no clue about anything I’m talking about. “Ok, class, read chapter 7 until the end of class. And for homework, do all of the exercises at the end of the chapter and write a short summary on the history of the Federal Reserve.”
I decide to push harder and get myself kicked out, “Why should we waste our time memorizing false information? Why does this indoctrination center give so much homework? So we have zero free time to think or do anything that actually matters?”
She turns beet-red and steam starts coming out of her ears as she yells, “Out of my classroom, now!”
This time there is a hulking zombie in blue waiting for me outside the door. “Did you find me with some NSA tracking app on your phone?” I ask.
He grumbles something unintelligible, grabs me by the arm, and whisks me off to the vaunted indoctrinater-in-chief.
When we enter his office, the principal asks in a deep, authoritarian type voice, “So, young man. Do you know why you’re here?”
“I’m here for speaking the truth and asking questions.”
He grimaces and responds, “You’re here for insubordination. Three times in one day, I believe that’s a record.”
“It’s a proud moment. My father will be ecstatic.”
“Enough with the sarcasm, son.”
“I wasn’t being sarcastic and I’m not your son.”
“Anyway, I’m afraid I’ll have to suspend you for one week.”
“I won’t be coming back, anyway, so you might as well expel me.”
“Why can’t you just go along to get along like everyone else?”
“Lots of reasons, but to sum up, because I want freedom.”
“Goodbye, son.”
“Goodbye, zombie order follower.”
I get home early and my dad greets me enthusiastically. “Wow, you’re home early! What happened?”
“Everything went as expected at the zombie institute.”
“Great! How about we get some organic green smoothies and read about Tesla’s inventions to celebrate! I’m proud of you, son!”
“Thanks, dad.”
“One question I have to ask is, is it true they teach two plus two equals five in common core math class?”
“I didn’t even make it that far.”