The letter of the world-law becomes hazy and dim and there is no good judge left in the global courthouse. The bankers and the kings now become very blunt and rude toward each other. The big lie has exploded with a bang and Truth sounds brutal and crude to the ear.

Look, the world-human has no substance – he is only dust. yes, with his eternal home in the decayed graveyard. On the tattooed back of an incurable, sick sheep, there it is written in honor, satan’s praise, and hell prepares for its last shift.

So, woe therefore to the big day of the rat, because in pestilence upon pestilence it is man’s end and his lot. So, of what use is all the tears and snot? The scale has been cast and only death is man’s lot.

The fig tree will never bud again and the system will never run smoothly again because the church was an enormous, stupid fool. So, let the diligent prepper’s affairs now run smoothly. Look, a strong fortress rises out of his once inferior hovel.

In just a handful of flour and a small measure of oil, his yield on his small plot will prosper in streams of Mercy, in abundance, without stop or shortage.