Part One
The house where I live is also home to a variety of non-human creatures. Assorted spiders make their presence known by scuttling across the living room floor, taking refuge in cracks beneath skirting boards or in ceiling corners. Some summers and autumns the attic ceiling or partition beneath the garage roof have played host to large numbers of nest-residing wasps or bees who, as the weather cools down, disappear as promptly as they arrive, never to be seen again.
The most common non-human resident, however, is the woodlouse. The conservatory, which is almost halfway between an outdoor and inside place, is their favourite part of the house. It is normal to enter in the morning and find several of them scurrying around.
They appear harmless creatures, kind-of friendly in a woodlouse way, and get reasonable treatment from the humans, scooped carefully onto an old postcard and transported outside onto the back garden patio.
The woodlice suffer a high mortality rate, for no apparent reason. Enter the conservatory in the morning and they will be there: little dead bodies littering the hard floor, the occasional one having got entangled in dust or fluff, but most just lying there lifeless.
The life and welfare of the woodlouse is intricately bound up with the life and welfare of the humans in residence. Their living space, with its warmth and cold, its living surfaces to move around; the cracks to hide in and explore, the materials for nourishment (they eat dead plant matter and decaying wood, apparently); its hidden hazards of dust, the danger of instant death beneath an enormous shoe or carelessly-placed chair leg: all of this is provided by the humans.
The thing about the woodlouse is this: its complete ignorance of its dependence on and interaction with the humans in residence. The little creature, in fact, remains throughout its life entirely oblivious to the very existence of the human beings. It is mentally incapable of the perceptual leap required to see the humans and what they are up to. Were you to pint out the true state of affairs to the woodlouse, it would tweak its antennae furiously in disbelief and say: "No way. You must be kidding."
Part Two
Tighten up the ratchet a few notches on biological and psychological complexity, and you move on from the woodlouse to.... the human being. The matter of biological complexity does not need expanding on here. Even somebody like me, with near zero capabilities in biology, can see the differences.
In terms of psychology, the human being has, in rather widely varying degrees, a degree of self-awareness absent in the woodlouse. Human beings are characterised by the ability to imagine past, present, and future. They act and experience their lives generally within the context of this time frame. Unlike the woodlouse, human beings are cognisant of time and space, which provide the framework for much of what they feel, think, imagine, and do.
Human experience of time and space is overwhelmingly linear in nature: 'a' leads to 'b' which causes 'c', and so on. This is, according to typical human perception, the way that things work. And the time-and-space-free woodlouse is a bit of a dummy.
These few details aside, however, woodlouse and human share much in common. Both consider themselves to be greatly shit-hot dudes, the only real show in town. The top of the evolutionary tree. While they will readily accept the existence of life which can be easily experienced through their basic senses, they will scoff, ridicule, and stare in disbelief at any suggestion of other life forms which just so happen to be outside the limited range of their own perceptual frequency bands.
Just as the woodlouse in 'my' conservatory will consider you nuts if you point out how its life is interwoven with that of human beings, so do human beings think you mad if you suggest that our life is intricately bound up with, and influenced by, lives of beings outside our own range of easy perception. Even more so if you dare to mention the possibility that humans are being used, exploited, used as farm animals, by some who are not very nice but outside the normal range of our (limited) sense experience.
In conclusion: humans can read clocks better than woodlice, but are every bit as naive.
Events of the past year provide, in my opinion, very strong circumstantial evidence for this interference in human affairs by non-human, higher density, life forms. What has rolled out during this Covid-hoax could not, I submit, have been made up by a human mentality. Not 'human' in the way that most of us understand it, at least. It is far more grotesque, hideous, perfectly-orchestrated, in its own terrible way genius, than a human being could come up with. It is beyond our capabilities.
I rest my case - for now.
Part Three
Talk of woodlice brings us inevitably to the topic of Joe Biden. I didn't follow the USA election carnival: there's only so much a man of a certain sensitivity can take.
I don't know very much about Joe Biden; still, I suspect there is not very much to know. He strikes me as that kind of person. In a manner perfectly fitting the times, he is the complete embodiment of Matrix Man. He stands absolutely for the 'agenda'. Climate change, Agenda 2030; face masks, the entire Covid story; Black Lives Matter, fake equality. There is no person as such there at all. No character, no personal opinions. There is simply a hollow shell, an empty receptacle for the programmed false realities of the present. A mannequin fashioned by the master puppet-makers of the Cabal.
The politician he most closely resembles is Emmanuel Macron in France. They needed an empty shell to put up against marine Le Pen, and Macron fitted the bill. Somebody - or rather a nobody - who no-one knew, about whom nobody had any opinion. A puppet that everybody who might vote against Le Pen would be willing to sell their soul for. Biden is the same. A non-entity who does not evoke the feelings of disgust and antipathy that a more obviously 'evil' person such as Hillary might do. The perfect empty vessel to garner the votes. So long as it gets rid of Trump, that's all that matters.
