Forbidden Love

     The signs of an impending apocalypse are everywhere. In fact, They Who Pour The Very Best Butter Over The Cams And Gears Of Society have decided that we must have our faces rubbed in them. It doesn’t matter what measures we take to avoid them; today they’re ubiquitous, apparently by design.

     A few years ago, the C.S.O. and I agreed that we would “cut the cord,” and thenceforth eschew broadcast and cablecast television as we had known it. For some time, we’d kept a TV subscription solely for access to sporting events. Then came the kneeling plague, and the “pride” plague, and the rest of the “woke” crap. It slowly permeated everything, becoming ubiquitous, and neither of us could stand any of it. At any rate, there was nothing on TV that appealed to us sufficiently to endure it…or to pay the huge monthly fee for it.

     But a little video entertainment in the evening is a pleasant way to downshift before retiring, so we delved into Amazon’s Prime offerings. There were a couple we enjoyed, but we exhausted them pretty quickly. So I added Acorn and BritBox to our subscriptions. At least that way the C.S.O. could get her fill of murder mysteries and police procedurals. For a while, it seemed we’d found a tolerable refuge from the ever-more-“woke” conventional broadcast / cablecast propaganda swamp.

     But one can only watch so many reruns of Midsomer Murders and Silent Witness before the living room begins to feel crammed to the ceiling with cadavers. So on occasion we’d drift back to Amazon Prime, especially when it announced something new that looked appealing.

     One of Prime’s productions, Good Omens, is based – very loosely – on the Terry Pratchett / Neil Gaiman novel of that name. I found the novel delightful, so I induced the C.S.O. to forgo the corpse parade for a little while and watch it with me. It proved imaginative and well made: so much so that we speculated hopefully about a second run. And lo! Just a couple of days ago, a second run was presented for our enjoyment.

     Once again propaganda has invaded what could have been purely an entertainment. The manifestations are interracial and homosexual love. It has become clear that these things will be shoved down our throats until we surrender to them.

     Time was, interracial and homosexual liaisons were called “forbidden love.” To write about them favorably was cause for omission from libraries and bookshops. Today they’re fast becoming the only sort of “love” to be found in fiction. I fear that the propagandists of deviance will soon add pedophilia and bestiality to the menu. I’d speculate about where they might go after that, but I don’t want to give them ideas.

     I can’t remember the last contemporary video production that featured a white man falling in love with a white woman. Indeed, productions that feature Caucasian families have become rare. It appears that that pattern – what we might call the Ozzie and Harriet model – is now prohibited, while departures from that pattern have become compulsory.

     Among the bits of advice that have been most beneficial to me – and, I hope, to many others desperate for a bit of what we once called “normality” – is to read old books. Perhaps we should add an exhortation to watch old movies and television shows: 1970 would serve as the breakpoint. Assuming the media barons don’t succeed in taking that away from us – it’s becoming ever more difficult to purchase DVDs of classic movies – it might prove the only refuge available from the ocean of miscegenation, homosexuality, and other “woke” crap in which the media are trying to drown our sensibilities.