I’m being watched.
24/7 surveillance that leaves me looking over my shoulder from time to time. It’s unsettling. There’s no one in my room here at the Best Western Plus in Holland, Michigan. But he’s out there. Right outside my window. Hanging on to the railing, just waiting…watching.
Big Br’er Bear.
Y’all might look closely at these photos here of Big Br’er Bear and think: “Why, that’s just a carved wooden bear — he’s all part of the hotel’s design, its motif.” But you’d be wrong. Oh so very wrong.
Did you forget where I am? You did for a second there, didn’t you. Hah! That’s right, I’m in the United States of America. The good old US of A. Where conspiracies are born.
Where conspiracies spawn and multiply ’til every part of life and (dare I say it?) death are entangled by legions of conspiratorial tentacles. And now I too am under watch. Not by some innocent wooden bear, as you might reason. Far from it! Oh no: I know what’s going on around here. I know.
It came to me last night while watching Glenn Beck. Wait…it might have been that Rush Limbaugh guy. Either way, one of these intellectuals inspired me to learn — yes, to seize — the truth. The real story. The facts and fundamentals behind this charade of a wooden bear. Motif indeed. Pshaw.
Operation Carnivore has begun!
Look deeply into Big Br’er Bear’s eyes as I have done. Look intently and you will see that
they are not eyes at all but tiny cameras. Well okay, you can’t see the camera in the one eye covered by bird poo, but look at the other one. US Homeland-issued, government-certified, Radio Shack-supplied surveillance camera. Through this camera, the highest levels of the American government are watching me.
And while they watch, ranks and ranks of US Army Ants march across my room at nights while I sleep to add their intel to Operation Carnivore. No, I’ve not seen these US Army Ant battalions in my room but I have felt them in my nightmares. And when I’ve bolted awake swimming in cold sweat, I’ve heard the chorus of their clickety-clickety-click lightning retreat.
So you’re asking: What is Operation Carnivore? What’s it all about? Yes, questions that cannot be ignored if we are to stop Operation Carnivore in its bear tracks. But we must be cautious. Ever so cautious. Because they can’t know that I know and you’ll soon know. They must only know that they think they know that I don’t know and you don’t know because they don’t even know you. That’s what I know. So Careful must be our calling card.
Operation Carnivore seeks to send Donald Trump to Canada. In my place. Oh please don’t think they can’t pull it off. These people — these AMERICANS — are the same tribe that hoodwinked the world into believing they sent men to the moon! The same tribe that sold the world into thinking they could have any colour car they wanted as long as it’s black. The same tribe that insists it was Kim Kardashian shooting JFK from the Grassy Knoll and then Elvis Presley memorializing the tragedy in Long Black Limousine. Come on dear reader, pluck the blinders off your eyes and SEE AND BELIEVE!!!
Believe me. Believe me because my life depends on it. Believe me when I tell you that I am expendable. This is how Operation Carnivore rolls out:
Friday night, the US Army Ants parachute into my room in a daring broad-daylight raid. They back me up into a corner and then American Black Ninja Barbies fall in behind and mercilessly spray me with bear spray. Yes, I suppose that’s apt, isn’t it?
They spirit me away in a black limousine (see, everything fits!) to a secret location somewhere in Michigan. Donald Trump is quickly rushed and hushed into my hotel room from where he’ll check out as me. A new doctored password is provided for the Donald; one with his name and his hair, but my Canadian citizenship!
Cut to Customs. The grim-faced Customs Agent asks Trump the usual questions: Where’ve you been? Why’d you go? Anything to declare? Trump aces them all, and would you be surprised if he did not? I guess not!
Once Donald Trump has gained access to Canada, Operation Carnivore ramps up to full-blown megaspeed. I haven’t figured out all the details yet; it’s been difficult to complete clandestine meetings with my covert cohorts, but here’s the bread and butter…
Trump ousts Trudeau as Leader of the Liberal Party of Canada, and the Globe and Mail’s headline screams: “Justy, you’re fired!” Trump calls a snap election and wins the largest majority ever in Canadian history. Full stop. I can feel that you’re not believing yet. Oh you foolish, foolish reader. That’s what Trump wants you to do! Wake up and smell the Koolaid. It’s not about the US presidency. “It’s not about the economy, stupid.” And it’s certainly not about Mexicans looking at the big new Turn Around, Sucka! wall.
Operation Carnivore is about Canamerica! Once Trump seizes power in Canada, he’ll suspend our Constitution and wage war on the USA sending 11 Chinook and Sea King helicopters, three de Havilland Twin Otters, two CC-115 Buffaloes, and a CF-188A, along with couple of frigates just to show some real muscle. The Americans, enthralled by Hillary Clinton’s email lies and Kim Kardashian’s programmed sighs (drat, her again!), will never know what hit them. It will be Tora! Tora! Tora! on a grander scale across the entire land of the free and home of the brave.
And so the Kingdom of Canamerica is established. One land, one continent, one kingdom. And one king to rule them all. King Trump. Believe it, dear reader. Believe it. Operation Carnivore is all about King Trump. And as The Netherlands is often called Holland, so shall it be with Canamerica: Trumpland.
Shh! Listen…can you hear them? They’re coming. US Army Ants. No! NO! YOU CAN’T COME TODAY — YOU’RE EARLYYYYYYYyyyy…