Bertram's Blog

In 1976, swine flu was discovered at an army training center, and several people got sick. Testing confirmed that the disease had spread to more than 200 people, and suddenly, public officials panicked. Money was poured into development of a vaccine that was intended to inoculate every single person in the United States. The scare stories were horrific, with countless news articles predicting a repeat of the 1918 flu pandemic.

The vaccine was developed quickly, and people lined up for the shot. (Literally, a shot — needle-free jet injections shot from some sort of gun.) By then, for good reasons (unimportant to this story) I had developed a vast distrust of the medical establishment and didn’t want to get inoculated. At the time, I was managing a franchised fabric store, and the district manager told me that I needed to set a good example for my employees. And if I didn’t, I’d be fired. I was young and still too honest to even think of lying and just telling him I got the vaccine so, to my utter shame, I caved and got the injection. It backfired on him because I refused to make anyone else get the shot. In fact, I didn’t tell anyone except him that I was inoculated. Even before I learned the truth that I’d only surmised — that the whole thing was a misdirection, that there wasn’t going to be a pandemic, that the flu was mild, and that the vaccine caused various health issues for people, some not until later in life — I vowed that never again would I fall for one of their scarifying schemes.

I was lucky, and so far have managed to be side-effect free from that swine flu vaccination, but I never forgot that episode. I never told anyone I got the vaccine either, until just now — I was that ashamed of my lack of confidence in myself.

So fast forward to 2020. Same story. I admit, I was afraid — those scare tactics work even on people who are aware of them. But I remembered my vow, and though I didn’t lie, I never told anyone I didn’t get the vaccine. I couldn’t. People were willing to turn in friends and neighbors who didn’t comply with mandates, and even though I trusted the people I knew, I couldn’t take a chance. (At that time, they were talking about rounding up the unvaccinated and incarcerating them in FEMA camps.) Even with stories of the necessity for showing proof of vaccine and such, I believed I was right. Of course, I took precautions, staying home almost all the time, and on the rare occasions I had to go out, I made sure to keep away from people. By then, though, I wasn’t really worried about getting sick since I don’t seem to get the flu. (I don’t really know why. Something to do with blood type and stronger protein coatings on cells, or so I’ve read.)

As time passed, stories started coming out about horrendous problems stemming from the vaccine. Young people who now have heart conditions. Middle-aged people who died. Older people who developed severe eye problems. And more.

A lot of people who didn’t get the vaccine or any of the boosters are patting themselves on the back for their perspicacity, but I’m not. It’s just one of those things that life taught me: to trust myself, not the science. (Thalidomide, anyone?)

We’re still dealing with fallout from the shutdowns, but already people seem to have forgotten how much we were forced into giving up our autonomy. But it’s important to remember. And it’s important to remember that we were lied to.

The lies are still there — maybe not about diseases and vaccines, but oh, so many lies that it’s hard to find one’s way through the maze. But it’s possible, if not to figure out the truth, at least to recognize the lies. It’s about looking at both sides objectively without emotional ties to either. It’s about seeing the pattern (as with those two universal vaccination attempts, though admittedly, a sample of two isn’t much of a pattern). See who actually benefits from the lies; who ends up richer because of the lies; who acts as if their lies only affect other people, not them. (For example, if you hear someone say the oceans are going to rise in the next few years because of climate change and then they buy ocean-front property, there’s a good chance someone is lying.)

Just as with the vaccines, I seldom talk to anyone about things I’ve researched and lies I’ve uncovered because people believe what they want to believe. Too many people seem to want the same old story — a simple plot, a villain to hate, a feeling of moral superiority — and so the complexity of what is going on in the world slips by them while they remain emotionally entrenched in the noble myth they choose to believe. Luckily, I have one or two good friends who have done much of the same research as I have, so I can talk without getting a heap of programmed responses in return. But still, I am weary of the lies — a lifetime of lies — and weary of the people who accept the lies for truth without bothering to look further.

Oops. Sorry. I didn’t mean to get on my soapbox. I generally don’t let my guard down, but I am writing at night when I am physically tired, not just mentally tired.

***

Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One.