The Three Brothers And One Brother
The Flu World Order gets personal
Illustration: T. Foyle
Back in the old-fashioned summer of 2013, inspired by the work of Robert Bly and David Deida, I sent an invitation to several male acquaintances, the subject line of which read, ‘A Council Of Brothers’. Many meetings of minds and hearts have resulted from this message in the intervening years - though the heyday of this miniature movement has long passed and we’ve simmered down to just four brothers. When the COVID story began, we were having sporadic meetings whenever one of our number, who has moved away, was in the vicinity. At the beginning of the (ahem) Pandemic, I realised we were unlikely to meet for the foreseeable future and instigated the dreaded online conference call. We became used to it and settled into a regular fortnightly rhythm.
I can’t speak for the womenfolk - but to any men who have never taken part in this kind of meeting, I heartily recommend it. Each man speaks for a few minutes at a time on whatever subjects he wishes to, with a minute’s silence marking each completed round. The forum encourages a quality of listening and of expression which is rarely found in everyday conversation.
Despite our reservations over the strangeness of meeting through the screen, our circles became a place of comfort and succour for us all - a unique and reliable moment we came to appreciate and look forward to. The depth of our intimacy has continued to grow, and our bond along with it.
One who follows countercurrents can forget how all-encompassing the mainstream is. I’ve always questioned authority and I ceased giving any serious attention to old media shortly after 9/11, when its inability or unwillingness to muster anything approaching genuine journalism became sickeningly clear. Since then I’ve explored many narratives and explanations for the world we find ourselves in - so I viewed the COVID story with scepticism from the beginning. Occasionally I would voice something of this in our group, but I felt uncomfortable doing so. I didn’t want to preach to my brothers and get sidetracked into political or philosophical discussion. The value our meetings held for me was not in debate, but in simple sharing from the heart of whatever was alive for me in the moment. I suppose I must have self-censored because the narrative of the last year has enraged me as much as anyone. Perhaps our meetings became a sort of respite from all that - a place to address subtler and more directly personal issues. I did attempt to broach something of my doubts and sent a message last year attempting to express my views on the psychopathic influence on society. With hindsight, I wish I’d been more explicit about my concerns regarding current events in that message. Within the group it remained easier and more comfortable to remain apolitical; and so things progressed.
Then, out of the blue, the first announcement came. At least, for me, it was an announcement. To the others, perhaps, just a passing mention. Pfizer had found another participant in their trial. I was frozen in shock, as I have repeatedly been when hearing of acquaintances and family making this incomprehensible choice. Is there a more potent symbol today of the schism that divides us? How had I failed to see this coming? Why express my concern for my brother over an action already taken? How would that help? I bit my tongue. I wrote private messages between meetings - hoping to intervene, to stop follow up jabs, to proffer information I had painstakingly compiled in hopes of convincing others. But the pharmaceutical industry’s march continued relentlessly on, eventually into the bodies of each of my brothers, and thus into the sanctity of our circle.
I kept attending but felt bereft, disconsolate and distant. I considered leaving altogether. I sought out other gatherings in which opposition to the madness was a given, and felt a new and deep kinship with strangers. How to honour my sense of loyalty to those who had in some sense betrayed me - but who may never understand that betrayal nor make amends for it? I felt trapped between a keen desire to honour our circle of brothers and my feelings of disappointment, anger and isolation. Finally, I found the awkward courage to address the issue. I told my friends that I felt completely disconnected from them. That I could barely speak my concerns and feelings. It was horrible.
Then something shifted in the virtual space. Through speaking our feelings, hearts began to open. As concerned and repelled as I felt by the contents of the blood flowing through those hearts, I still recognised my old and intimate friends.
As our next circle approaches, much that is in my heart remains unspoken. As the sole conspiracy realist of the group, I feel an awful responsibility to name it all. So much easier to fall back into the familiar personal, creative or work issues - to speak anything but the most important and pressing topic of the day. Yet I owe our circle itself my honesty. A circle that was created simply for community and succour has become a crucible in which the harshest truths and doubts rage and wail at the door, insisting to be admitted.
Along with so many, my brothers have proven themselves gullible fools by entrusting their very lives to established criminals. They have unwittingly furthered the aims of psychopaths to enslave us all, and to incriminate those, like me, who will not be experimented on nor willingly enslaved. There was never the slightest reason to risk their health nor my freedom. The experiment they have acquiesced to take part in is just the first salvo of an ongoing business model and was never intended as a one-off. They may be willing participants in the greatest and most destructive crime of all time. Their health may be irretrievably compromised. It is even possible that they pose a physical threat to normal healthy human beings. These are the things I need to say and can’t bear to say.
Families and friendships everywhere are facing the same extraordinary test. The preciousness of soul family is revealing itself, as the value of blood connections evaporates before our eyes. Established relationships of every stripe are tested as never before, and new alliances are made instantaneously through knowing glances and asides. Old allegiances are failing as a new tribe emerges, blinking, into the light: my tribe. May we be blessed to attain the liberty we crave, demand and deserve before the long-threatened convergence of every dystopian dream.
As for the millions of our misguided kin who have unknowingly betrayed us - what can we do? What do we owe them? To err is human; to forgive, divine. As uncomfortable as it feels to speak such things publicly, I judge my brothers harshly - and forgive them. Though my disbelief and sadness run deep, I love them still.