Where have all the Protesters gone?

For three weeks we had the most massive super-spreader event ever: Thousands of mostly unvaccinated Kiwis came together to form Freedomville, the modern equivalent of a medieval village community quickly arose on the grounds of Parliament.

But, guess what? Despite the prediction from the One Sauce of Truth that people would soon be dropping like flies, no one died. Now what does that tell you about this pandemic which has all but destroyed our economy, replaced she'll be right with fear and loathing; they maimed countless thousands of Kiwis and killed thousands more by injecting poison into their veins on the promise that this would give them their lives back.

Freedomville was one of the most amazing and heartening things that I have ever witnessed, as its evolution from a single tent to a village demonstrated that human beings are instinctively tribal creatures who are never meant to be alone; although it is the desire of the globalists to separate us from our kindred then they can conquer and own us, one-by-one.

No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were. as well as if a manor of thy friend’s or of thine own were. Any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind; and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.

John Donne 1623

Here is the One Sauce of Truth's official video of life in Freedomville:

The following is a pictorial essay.

A wise person once said, "A picture is worth a thousand lies"

How it really was at Freedomville, and on a wet day:

The entrance to Freedomville: inviting, safe and with humour.

Lots of happy people, despite Mallard turning on the sprinklers, the Southerly storm and, later, Mallard bombarding the crowd with screechy music: Do these people come across to you as "Scum of the Earth"? Really?

People reminding us of what those before us fought for:

Tangata whenue coming out from under the oppression of those who claim to represent them while their snouts are in the trough of Government money.

About 30% of the people on Freedomville were Maori (By the way, that guy eating in the background looks scrarier than our two Maori warriors!)

Everyone was well fed with free food donated by supporters in Wellington and further afield.

Yes, that's his Dad, security on the gates, blowing bubbles while son distributes free food. What a fabulous experience for the young fella.

Our Health officials would have learned a thing or two about human nutrition if they bothered to come and have a look.

Sanitation was excellent until the police intervened, preventing cleaning, then vandalising the toilets and a donated portable shower block in the middle of the night.

Creature comforts were donated.

Mainstream Media looked for the "dirt", but there wasn't any. We had our own independent reporting (Not bought and dictated to by the Government).

We even had our tinfoil brigade, there to mock the Government (tinfoil hats are actually nice and warm).

Morale was high: we were connected once again.

Everyone was happy and feeling safe after two years of being ordered to fear your neighbours.

Friends were made.

Oh, the joy of seeing people's faces once again! New Zealand the way it should be. End the mandates and we go home - simple!

Infiltrators were sent in to spoil the fun. There was to be no consultation; just obedience.

Then the police came in, and they beat, pepper-sprayed, and shot people with rubber bullets. Then, like raiding Mongols of old, they burned and trashed the village, and it was all over.

They came in overwhelming numbers.

They had inserted trouble-makers within the protesters so that the police could justify their use of force as the day wore on (more about this in a further post soon).

When violence broke out it was just with a handful of protesters left, some of whom were clearly "Agents Provocateur" (most people had left by late afternoon, taking what little they could carry).

I'll leave you with a couple of my favourite photos from Fredomville: hope and innocence before the Government marched in, smashed, bashed and burned the place to the ground.

The innocence of the child until Jacinda intervened.

Peace, my friends.