
The inherent flaw of any presidential campaign lies in its conception of the prerequisites of human liberation. Invariably, these campaigns attempt to build from the top, to furnish an image, however crude, of the apex of human achievement. The elected president shall manifest this virtuous ideal, one to which the lowly remainder of humanity will humbly seek to adhere. The powerless peasants and commoners are to bask in the leader’s moral radiance and hope, through osmosis, to someday evolve . . . although, in every democratic society with which I am conversant, this day of graduation is perpetually postponed. We cannot trust “the people” with such immense responsibilities, we are told—and so we tell ourselves, overlooking the grotesque servility of our own relationship to our government. Such submission ironically facilitates a self-fulfilling prophecy whereby demagogues command the attention of the masses, manipulate them, exploit them, and drive them to disastrous ends. Until the people learn to trust themselves with knowledge, until they learn to arm themselves, until they agree to build an autarky of their own design—in short, until they learn to overcome the suicidal philosophy of their masters—they will continue to allow the tyrants to displace them.
Regrettably, this elitist strain of psychopathy pervades even those who purport to combat it. I have recently encountered a pitiable example in Suzie Dawson, a mendacious storyteller masquerading as a journalist, and a bully who has spent the last several years of her unhappy existence attempting to create a hierarchal system of political activism. One would think that the paradoxical nature of such a structure—a pecking order for those who are working to dismantle the concept of a pecking order—would have discouraged her from the onset, but just as the pharaohs could not foresee their own destruction, Dawson is ignorant of the instability of her own pyramid. She has developed an elaborate, arbitrary echelon for all who identify as activists, a rigid ranking at the top of which she has, quite predictably, placed herself. The inflamed jealousy with which she protects her castle in the sand is eclipsed only by her astonishing blindness to how foolish it is—but before we venture any further in a psychological portrait of this unfortunate creature, perhaps the reader, who likely does not know who she is, would appreciate a formal introduction.
Suzie Dawson is a former YouTube commentator (a washed-up never-was, to borrow my preferred description of Alyssa Milano) who specialized in commentary on the work of Julian Assange and Edward Snowden. A native of New Zealand, she has lived in Moscow for some time now, hiding in plain sight from “western intelligence agents” who, she alleges, attempted to assassinate her—multiple times— by running her car off the road. Why these “western intelligence agents” selected such an impractical method of murder for a visibly unhealthy, over-the-hill bourgeois is beyond my ability to imagine, and even further beyond her ability to explain, never mind her ability to prove. For that matter, she cannot explain why the nefarious “western intelligence agents” despised her so passionately in the first place, save for her public defense of Assange and Snowden and, previously, her involvement in the Occupy Movement. In any event, she has been loafing around in Russia for a goodly while yet, beseeching the public to pay her bills while she petitions the government for asylum.
Continue reading “Traitors of Journalism: Suzie Dawson and the Market of Victimhood”