If you're interested in Qanon, this book may interest you. But it probably won't if you're looking for in-depth analysis. Are Q people the type to have a flair for analysis? So yeah, this book is for you.
Who is out of control, the crazy government or the citizens? Absurdity versus reality—is there a difference? These widely read stories will have you scratching your head and wondering what the author might have been smoking. But don't worry it's all in his head and it's all a matter of time before you hear the news and go, “Hey wait a minute, I read that somewhere.” Imagination is a powerful thing. Government sanctioned lobotomies are the only cure. Think while you have time. Mabel Sanger ran out of time. Gusta died from generosity. Thomas Jefferson Roosevelt desperately wanted the Senator to have his clock. Who wins the war between the Civillains and the Psyclopians? What does John Wayne have to say about all of this?
Excerpt:
As Mabel Marie bounced through the smoky doors of the LaSalle Building, a cicada landed in the uppermost region of her tall hair. And when I say tall hair, I mean Texas-sized hair with blond locks where the bees get lightheaded flying in and around the hive. A mute in a tattered coat and missing his fingers on his right hand, except his middle finger, pointed and sputtered at her head. He sprinkled Mabel Marie's blue suit coat with spittle. She reciprocated with a rude gesture. His face turned purple, and he stabbed at her furiously with his one finger.
“You too, buddy,” Mabel Marie said as she continued down New Hampshire Avenue. She dug in her handbag and found a wad of Kleenex and dabbed her sleeve. She looked around as she crossed Constitution. The man stared at her. Mabel Marie kept on down the street. She wondered whether the Director was somehow mixed up in this nuttiness. He was the kind of man who would stoop as low as a Texas rattlesnake, Mabel Marie thought.
