Amerika's Wicker Men: A Sinister Season Of Symbolic Sacrificial Self-Immolation
Max Azzarello & The Unspeakable
“Lights! Camera! Action! / I’m your favorite coming attraction! / Life’s a movie, baby / Know we write our own lines / Got plenty of time til the credits roll / So sit back, enjoy the show…” — Benjamin Quinn, “Life’s a Movie”
“Does anybody know what we are looking for?/ Does anybody know what we are living for? / I'll face it with a grin, I’m never giving in / On with the show, on with the show…” — Queen, “The Show Must Go On”
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[TRIGGER WARNING: Photos Depicting Extreme Suffering Follow Below]
Must The Show Go On? At least this show?
Is there any way to cancel, reboot, or throw a bucket of cold Holy Water on this damned production, without taking all the Cast and committed Players with it? Can society only be “6uilt 6ack 6etter” upon the fouled fetid flaked-off flesh of human sacrifice, the nasty ashes of mass trauma, and the molded masque of bled death? I mean, c’mon man…“Who do I have to fuck to get out of this show?” It shouldn’t be too much to ask!
Or is it? Is it? Is a slurping black hole/giant meteor crash/magnetic pole flip/irradiated solar EMP blast/violent volcanic caldera eruption/globe-suffocating massive methane fart from Mother Earth’s East Asia melting permafrost/some other wild card crazy plot twist…is this multiple choice of world-as-we-know-it-ending Black Swan events the optimal “Great Reset” we can hope for at the end of the fundamentally dishonest American Advertising Age that’s greedily consumed the soul of the planet? The “post-Truth” half-reality where spin, hype, secrets and lies are at war 24/7 — “Rust Never Sleeps” — vs. honesty, transparency and plain-spoken facts and gospel, be it Big “G” or little. Or is it a “G” as in “Gone”?
How far “gone” are we? Like, In The Times Of Noah levels of moral degeneracy? Or at least Germany’s trans-formative fin de siècle Weimar Republic? The Roman Empire’s vitiated and tyrannical half-decade under the incestuous deviant pervert and self-declared “Sun God” Caligula? All of the above? Are we living through yet another distressingly predictable remake of a historical period piece that’s already been “reimagined” multiple times? History repeats, the more things change the more they stay the same, “time is a flat circle,” and so on and so on — another lost generation of miseducated, mis-focused, misanthropic, decadent, narcissistic and godless lifestyle lemmings lurching toward Cliff Perilous, once again…except that ye olde lemmings story, too, was a Disney lie.
Which finally spins me right ‘round, baby, to the right-on-time self-sacrificial pale patriarchy pyre of Max Azzarello. The man, the myth, the media symbol!
I hadn’t planned on writing anything about Florida Man, burning man and Bernie Sanders fan Max Azzarello setting himself ablaze outside the Donald Trump Kangaroo Court Case in Manhattan last Friday, April 19th — April 19th! The first day of the home stretch in the satanic Season of Sacrifice! — because it seemed groaningly, grotesquely obvious for even the normiest of normies to grok, white Wicker Man-wise: Trump is the designated symbolic fall guy for white America, duh, destined to keep losing over and over again through blatant injustice and hijacked elections, the flawed martyr of a conquered nation trained to hate itself, a ritualistic demoralization depiction of The Great Replacement Theory. Taken to the, ahem, Max.
On Max Azzarello’s death day, there were several helpful readers and other pals sending me emails and PMs noting Florida Man’s self-sacrificing suicide and the nearly immediate Mediagasm subsequent, sometimes in tandem mention with L.I.H.O.P. Israel’s escalation towards WW3 in the Middle East through its bombing of Iran that same morning.
In addition to the personal messages to me, there was also a decent amount of social media commenting generally on Xwitter and elsewhere about the dark seasonal relevance of the self-immolation, with much strident supernatural opining from the usual collection of high-profile alt-narrative-approved fame-seeking pundit parasites who regularly slipstream my stuff for their personal fortune and glory (and clicks).
Still, I wasn’t going to regurgitate what rip-off artists —it’s the one thing they’re really good at! — had already ripped-off. Until I saw photos of Max Azzarello’s post-extinguished experience appearance. It made me think of burned alive Hollywood actress Anne Heche, supposedly self-deleting pedo-pimp Jeffrey Epstein, Boston Marathon bombing casualty Jeff Bauman (hold that thought!), and other conspicuously uncovered victims of mass trauma events.
Look at that photo. The first thing that should jump out at you, if you’re not too far gone, is that Max is tied down in two spots by orange plastic belts, which has got to be unfathomable agony against his presumably flaking burned flesh. And where’s the “burn blanket”? Where’s the I.V.? How does he still have hair on his head? Why isn’t he being treated with oxygen, an oxygen mask, directly, to help his presumably scarred lungs breath?
Nothing about that photo makes sense, nor this bizarre play-by-play as it was happening by CNN reporter Laura Coates, who sounds like she’s announcing a horse race. None of it feels any more real than these two sick but ridiculous photographs below, photographs that shocked Americans a decade ago, shocked them so hard that they were unable to focus on how preposterous the pictures actually are:
That’s Boston Marathon bombing victim Jeff Bauman, on the left and right on April 15, 2013 (another Season of Sacrifice show) shortly after the bombs went off at the race finish line; that guy in the middle photo is also supposed to be Jeff Bauman, a mere 19 days later at a Boston Bruins hockey game commemorating his astonishingly rapid recuperation. They look like the same guy to you?
The bookending photos, as originally pointed out by the late great investigative reporter Dave McGowan in the blog post that got him killed, “The Curious Case of the Man Who Couldn’t Sit Down,” are absurdist. Here’s why:
Jeff Bauman should be dead. D-E-A-D. Call your doctor. Ask an EMT. Both of them will confirm that if you lose both your legs from explosive trauma, half your blood is gone in one minute and you’re dead in two, tops. Femoral arteries: If they go, you go. Bleeding out is worse and faster following blunt force trauma, like shrapnel shredding, because flesh is torn rather than cut, exposing more arterial and vascular tissue.
The average human body holds roughly 10-11 pints of blood. A person can lose around one pint without causing any harm to the body. If that explosion really ripped off Jeff Bauman’s legs, you would see blood all over the place. The poor legless guy would be drenched in blood and so would his rescuers. There would be what’s called “arterial spurting” from the injury. Usual progression, in two minutes or less, would be shock and vomiting, followed quickly by delirious behaviors, passing out, death. Moreover, take a look at his “tourniquet.” There’s no applied pressure. There’s no knot with a turn stick for leverage. Bauman’s hands have no blood on them. There’s no blood on the ground or trailing behind the wheechair, either. Bauman’s legs should be elevated, not hanging down. What we’re being shown is impossible. Impossible.
But it’s such a horrific event that to mention such an impossible thing is Unspeakable. Because when contemplating what is possible in the face of what is not possible is psychologically terrifying for most people once it begins to lift the lid on the lie they live inside.
There’s never been a good explanation for why Jeff Bauman’s roughly severed limbs don’t bleed or why he isn’t dead or why he was sped past all the photographers in a wheelchair and not on a gurney, like nearly everybody else at the scene. The Official Story™ is that the wounds were cauterized (a burn that seals a wound), but the legs of the guy in the wheelchair are clearly not cauterized. Shrapnel bombs don’t cauterize, they tear things to pieces.
It’s tough to come to terms with all this deception, I know, but the wheelchair horror show starring Jeff Bauman was just that: A SHOW. Designed to disgust and dishearten Americans on “Patriot’s Day”; further ramp up an ever-escalating War on Terror and M.I.C. spending; and provide opportunity for a test-run in a major American city for totalitarian and unconstitutional lockdowns, during the manhunt for the Muslim brothers/patsies (one of ‘em was an FBI informant, eh? The now-dead one, ofc!).
In that same way, the blatant display of Max Azzarello’s badly burned body tied down and without a burn blanket, no oxygen mask, no I.V., no one tending him….it’s either got to be a Season of Sacrifice psyop of some sort, or New York City’s EMTs are so incompetent that anyone living in Manhattan should be highly concerned. You can add it to the list.
What does it meeeeeeaaaaan? I have no idea. Even from the most paranoid conspiracy theorist’s precarious perch, it’s practically impossible to get the head around the idea of a vast government/globalist conspiracy false-flagging terrible terrorist attacks, much less that at least some of the wounded/dead are actually “crisis actors.” Even when we know for a fact such things exist.
But I can tell you this: There is no way Max Azzarello should be strapped down to a gurney after suffering third-degree burns all over his body. There is no way he would still have hair on his head (you can see in the video where he dumps the gasoline on himself, it’s poured over his scalp; here you can see that his entire body is engulfed in flames, including his hair). No way he wouldn’t be given oxygen, or an I.V. Then again, no way Boston’s Jeff Bauman should still be alive, either. It’s all lies, in a land of lies. Lies lies lies lies LIES.
Something is very, very wrong. But we all know that, at least everybody here. The real question is: What are we going to do about it? Anything? I hate to say it, but it appears to me that most of us are merely going to continue our slow docile circling in the panopticon towards an American abattoir constructed by bloodthirsty reptile-brained half-people who’ve been quite obvious — proudly so in fact, giggling and giddy like Anthony Fauci in his homicidal heyday — as they reveal and revel in how much they want at least half of us dead.
So welcome to the Kali Yuga, the End of Days, the Revelation of the Method and the final Turn of the Screw, when virtues are sucked dry by chaotic parasites and “the best lack all conviction, while the worst are full of passionate intensity,” creating a nation of hapless and weak-willed Wicker Men, so afraid of addressing The Unspeakable they’ll surrender their freedom, their country’s Constitution, their First Amendment rights, their families and their soul, while everything around them that’s good and pure and honest burns. It burns, baby, it burns.
“Something is very, very wrong. But we all know that, at least everybody here. The real question is: What are we going to do about it? Anything?”
Good question. I’ve been waiting for something since literally the 90s, like a clock is ticking down to an Ultimate Event. I still don’t know what. But despite everything that’s gone on it still feels premature to Do Something.
So Tom as you're so good at picking up the fakery all over the place I wonder why you're stuck on it for 9/11 dead and injured. It's soooo obvious there too. Here's a good video by FakeNukes Phil on the fake jumpers. https://www.bitchute.com/video/dtiCpmW8eve4/
After Aaron, I wrote a post, Are Self-Immolations a Thing? going back to the famous Buddhist monk in 1963 with references to others, not expecting a new one to pop up so soon. Didn't see that photo, it's a good one - https://petraliverani.substack.com/p/are-self-immolations-a-thing.
Jeff Bauman is really Nick Vogt who really did have his legs blown off in Afghanistan by an IED (or that's what we're told happened, could be true). His survival was a touch and go thing - so he lost his legs in a completely unjustified invasion just to return to participate in another event staged to justjfy those kinds of invasions. So disgusting. https://www.huffpost.com/entry/nick-vogt-soldier-double-amputee-recovery_n_2082647
What the hell is those horses?