Man Who Reads One Article Now World’s Leading Expert on Geopolitics
Why is this article not behind the paywall?
So you can all access this report - The Parliamentary Commission into the October 7th atrocities. A detailed breakdown of events with every source tracked. There is no second-hand information and alleged events in this report. No ‘Hannibal Directive’ and tanks firing on kibbutz or Apache helicopters shooting missiles at festival goers. It’s an accurate investigation that makes for a harrowing read.
Next time someone denies the atrocities - link them to this report.
https://www.7octparliamentarycommission.co.uk/
Man Who Reads One Article Now World’s Leading Expert on Geopolitics
Ah yes, the grand conspiracy of my existence.
Welcome, dear reader, to the twisted, labyrinthine world where I, an unsuspecting commentator, have been handed the keys to reality itself. You see, I am not merely a person with opinions—I am a Machiavellian architect of deception, a weaver of untruths, a menace to the delicate balance of the universe. At least, that’s what my critics would have you believe
It’s a fun title, right?
We all live in a day and age where everybody has become an expert. Everybody knows something or somebody. My friend in high school was Jewish so I know Jews. I met a Black man at a beer festival so I know how Black men like to drink. I went to the temple on Saturday so I know about religion.
We are all our own worst enemy.
I commentate on Jewish affairs which requires me to be an expert on all things Jewish. I’m expected to know the Talmud because I believe in G-d. I’m expected to know every historical fact about the Middle East because I stand with Israel. I’m expected to recite every atrocity ever committed because I am a Zionist.
Cards on the table - I am not an expert.
The anti-Zionist crowd would agree with that statement. They know me best. They feel they have caught me out many times and tell me everything I say is a lie. I’m the harbinger of untruths and distorted words. I’m the undesirable residue of cheesy Nacho dust on your fingers scraped clean onto your sofa. I step into the room, casually offer a thought, and suddenly, I am the villain in their personal novella of righteousness. I am accused of grand manipulations, of twisting history, of bending reality to suit my nefarious agenda. Who knew I had such power?
Don’t take my word for it (remember I lie) - here’s the well-respected historian Ian Blackhall - I’m joking. Ian is no more an historian than I’m a gridiron quarterback named Joe. Ian “Not a well poisoning limited hangout” also believes Israeli agents were acting as Hamas operatives on October 7th.
There are dozens of Ians all declaring the same ‘truths’. When that many people claim the same truths, it must be true. It’s the majority, right? And majority rules. We can conveniently state everyone in the US supports Trump and Netanyahu enjoys unanimous support in Israel because of the majority. Sorry..there’s me twisting the truth again. I can’t help myself. As a Zionist, I’m trained by Mossad and the Israeli government in the art of fabrication. I’m a well-paid shill for terror. Or as the Palestinian crowd like to call it - hasbara.
I wear these accusations like a second skin, not because they define me, but because they shape the battlefield on which I stand. To some, my words are scripture; to others, they are a trick, a sleight of hand designed to pull the wool over the unsuspecting eyes of the masses. It’s amusing, really, the weight of assumption that people attach to another person’s truth. As if reality is a monolith, a fixed point in time and space, rather than the constantly shifting prism it really is.
Take this exchange as Exhibit 1:
Did I really twist everything? I mean, these facts are easy to Google even for a semi-literate Hasbara shill like myself. Did you spot the part where I lied? No? That’s how good I am at my non-existent job as a professional Zionist for the Israeli government.
I am the epitome of a man who reads one article and is now a leading expert.
We all create narratives to fit our truths. That’s the nature of human existence. I choose to see things through the lens of my experiences, my values, my beliefs. Others do the same. The difference is, I’m willing to acknowledge my bias. I know that my perspective is inherently limited. I know that my understanding of history is shaped by my sources, my mentors, and my own lived reality. But acknowledging that doesn’t make my truth any less valid. It doesn’t make my words any less worthy of being heard.
The truth, of course, is far less cinematic. I am simply a person who dares to speak. A person who dares to see the world through a different lens. But in the age of instant expertise, of self-appointed truth commissions, that is enough to send people into a frenzy. They clutch their pearls, sharpen their pitchforks, and prepare for battle. After all, how dare I exist outside the carefully curated bubble of their understanding?
Which is why I defer to the experts. People like
who are trained military experts and know their shit. People like who is a trained journalist and knows how to spot bollocks between piles of steaming bullshit. They know stuff!
The problem is, people don’t just want to disagree. They want to dismantle. They don’t just want to challenge; they want to erase. The minute you speak a truth that contradicts the carefully curated worldview of another, you become a villain. You become the shadow lurking in their otherwise pristine landscape. They point their fingers, sharpen their words, and declare that you are the problem. You are the liar. You are the fraud.
But here’s the secret: nobody actually wants the truth. They want confirmation. They want validation. They want their biases wrapped up in a neat little package and handed to them with a bow, so they can say, “See? I was right all along.” And when you disrupt that? When you offer an alternative, when you challenge the foundation upon which their beliefs rest? That’s when the real battle begins.
I see it every day. I watch people twist themselves into knots trying to disprove my existence, my understanding, and my right to speak. They don’t engage in good faith; they don’t come to the table ready to listen. They come armed with preconceptions, with assumptions, with the unwavering certainty that they, and only they, hold the key to what is real. And I wonder—who exactly made them the gatekeepers of truth?
It would be amusing if it weren’t so exhausting. The cycle is predictable: I say something, they foam at the mouth, they call me a liar, a fraud, an agent of the great and terrible conspiracy to destroy all that is good and pure. If I had a dollar for every time I was called a propagandist, I’d be funding my own secret underground lair by now. (Note to self: look into secret underground lair.)
They don’t just disagree—they launch full-scale investigations into my character, into my motives, into my supposed backroom dealings with the forces of darkness. They pore over my words like ancient scholars deciphering cryptic scrolls, convinced that somewhere in the fine print, they will uncover my master plan. Spoiler alert: there isn’t one. I’m just a person with an internet connection and an annoying habit of thinking for myself.
Perhaps that’s the most threatening thing of all—not that I might be wrong, but that I might, in some small way, be right. That my words might hold weight, that my perspective might have merit. That the narrative they’ve so carefully constructed might not be as unshakable as they believed.
So they fight. They shout. They call me names, twist my words, drag my character through the mud. But here’s what they don’t realize—none of that changes the reality of who I am. None of that takes away my voice. If anything, it only strengthens my resolve. I play the part of the deceiver, the manipulator, the evil genius in their pantomime of moral superiority. And I let them believe it—because, let’s face it, they’d be lost without a villain. It’s a tough job, but someone’s got to do it. Because the truth, as inconvenient as it may be, has a way of persisting.
And so do I.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a conspiracy to orchestrate and some reality to distort. Or at least, that’s what they’ll say.
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You forgot to mention the 5 billion dollar trust fund we all get at birth. I have actually had the experience of being confronted about this one. Crazy world.
Thank you for the link. I’m so tired of the apologists for the savages of Gaza in full atrocity denial.