âKnowledge makes a man unfit to be a slave.â ââ Frederick Douglass ⢠Ultra-â suffragist ⢠Ideas are technology. ⢠Someday, computers will be useful.
The Tyranny of Massachusetts: A Personal Story
This is going to be different. Itâs a long post, but itâs personal, and it might explain why I am the way I am. And why so many people whoâve left Massachusetts carry the same fire I do.
They call Massachusetts the birthplace of freedom. The irony is suffocating. Because the spirit of freedom still exists there, but only beneath the crushing weight of the same kind of tyranny we once fought a war to break free from. The ones who lit the fuse in 1775 would spit on what itâs become today.
I grew up in Massachusetts with my sister. Our mom and dad raised us right. They had their issues and divorced in the â90s, but oddly enough, they got back together later. Still live under the same roof.
But hereâs where the story turns awful. And this is the only time I ever witnessed true discrimination growing up.
My dad is incredible. He has cerebral palsy, not the wheelchair kind, but the kind where he walks funny, shakes, and slurs his words. He looks drunk, even though heâs not. He jokes, âIf I ever sound normal, youâll know Iâve had too much.â Thatâs his humor, self-deprecating and razor sharp. But people judge him for it. They judge him for a condition he can't control.
I remember one day as a kid, we were playing tag in Melrose. My dad was chasing us around, laughing. But to anyone watching, he looked like a drunk ape stumbling through a park. Someone called the cops. They showed up, pulled my sister and me aside, and asked if we âwanted to go for a ride.â My dad fell silent. It was eerie. I said no. The cops stared at us for a while, then left. Later my dad told me, âIf youâd said yes, they wouldâve taken you.â I brushed it off. âCome on, Dad, youâre being dramatic.â
He wasnât.
A few years later, it happened again, worse this time.
We were at a public library. My sister tripped and scraped her knee. She was about 10. She started crying. My dad bent down to comfort her, shaky, slurring, and again, looking like a drunk man doing God knows what to a crying child. A middle-aged white woman called the police.
They didnât ask questions this time. They didnât ask us if we wanted to go for a ride. They just took her.
My sister was screaming. My dad was screaming. I stood frozen, in disbelief, while they put her in a cruiser and drove off.
At the station, social services showed up. They asked her a few leading questions, and when she told them our parents were divorced, that was apparently all they needed to hear. She was taken from us. No trial. No abuse. No neglect. No evidence. Just gone.
We were a normal working-class family. We had a home, we had food, we went to school, and we got good grades. But Massachusetts didnât care. They held my sister in state custody for eight years. Eight. Years.
Not with family. Not in foster care. In state homes, surrounded by awful kids and worse adults. She tried to run away more than once. They caught her every time. My dad visited her almost every single day for eight years.
It destroyed my family.
I joined the Army. She was still a ward of the state. And then my dad collapsed under the weight of it all. He was broken. He ended up homeless, living in a used Ford Thunderbird in a parking lot. With our cat. The house was gone. The dog had died. The bank account I had left money in for him while I was at OSUT? Empty.
He never told me. He didnât want to distract me from training.
Eventually, he clawed his way back to stability. My sister was finally released and went to college. She became a scientist. A damn good one. She bought a home. She now takes care of our parents under one roof. She is the glue that holds us together while I go do Army things.
People think Iâve sacrificed for this country. I havenât given a damn thing compared to her. She sacrificed her childhood, her chance at a normal life, to protect the people who shouldâve been there to protect her. Every time I think about it, Iâm on the verge of tears.
And when those tears dry up, all thatâs left is rage. Because the state of Massachusetts did this to us. They take children without evidence. They donât ask questions. They donât care about families. They act as judge, jury, and executioner. They annihilate hope and call it compassion.
They are not the cradle of liberty. They are the modern day British Empire in disguise. Cloaked in the same authoritarian impulse that sparked a revolution 250 years ago. Back then it was redcoats and muskets. Now itâs child services and bureaucrats who believe they should be your child's parent.
Massachusetts is no better than the tyrants we once fought to overthrow. Never forget that. And never forgive it. To the people of my home state: Wake up. because this could happen to you.
"Cocooning" â the Pharma-invented practice of keeping grandparents and others away from newborn babies unless they are recently vaccinated â is a two-fold sales strategy. It sell shots to other family members AND it keeps unvaccinated people away from new parents in the key decision-making window as the parents are deciding whether to vaccinate their newborn. Sinister.
The Paperwork Reduction Act produced the largest paperwork burden in American history.
Carter signed it in December 1980 to stop Washington from dumping forms on citizens, businesses, and local governments.
Instead, it created OIRA inside OMB so every agency had to justify and get approval before adding a new survey or reporting requirement.
OMB still publishes the hours every year, and the total has climbed almost without a break ever since. Recent reports put it above 11 billion hours annually, the equivalent of more than a million people working full time year round just on federal paperwork, with the IRS alone accounting for several billion of those hours.
The office built to halt the growth is the one announcing the new record.
Let's review: A mom of 5 now has a criminal record, is on a *child-abuse* registry, and could be sent to jail if she gives her young children independence again.
This is the letter CPS sent her. It's so humiliating. /6 https://t.co/6CaCK464Ud
i never knew there was an actual term for this:
epistemic loneliness is a cognitive form of isolation that happens when you cannot share complex ideas, inner thoughts, or meaningful perspectives because you lack a willing, able, or understanding conversational partner.
@Dappalumbo91@Hannibal9972485 Youâre right. There will be a leak of years worth of tens of millions of peopleâs movements which will make the leaks of yore look halcyon.
Flock takes their privacy very seriously.
But the ethical gray area in surveillance technology works both ways.
Under no circumstances should elected officials or public servants enjoy an expectation of privacy when spending tax dollars to attend a surveillance lobbying event.
@jeffreytucker Be precise. The linked article attributes your quote to the Princess MĂĄxima Centre, not BMJ. Tying the retraction to that statement is at best an inference which requires defence. Donât give the evildoers free ammunition.