An open letter to Neon.

Those emails.

Like you, I was there when u/spez killed r/pizzagate. I was in True Detective/EWO until the mods ran us off. I stood on infinity when “one brave soul” emerged from the tribe, and sickened us all. I was at the end, praying they could open Outer Heaven.

Those emails.

We grew up on Cooper. We read the Fourth Reich. Me, I could never put it all together.

Those emails. We ran through them, cross checked, and it all came together.

Those Podesta emails. I can still quote them. I’m sure you can too.

Those emails were the glue. It was all real.

Deep fear, murderous rage, cold resolve.

For a year we rubbed shoulders digitally in the same threads. Hundreds participating, maybe thousands watching. But we couldn’t spark an awakening.

It the gates of Heaven opened and seraphim with flaming swords came through to kill us all, I would have been okay with that.

What choice? Utter defeat by evil or total destruction.

Then exactly a year later, Q appeared with a third choice: victory.

And I signed up. Let’s thread that fucking needle. Better than an hero.

The sleep is real. Like many, my attempts moved to analog and I was met with blank stares. I can say Strozk, Page here. There, blank stares.

It’s a process. Cold resolve, strategic patience.

We were here from the beginning but we are not the only audience. New fags pour in every day. And Q posts like Trump memes: he plants the seed and comes back to water.

Chandler? A known point. For new fags? Well, we’re all at different stages.

Namefagging comes with a price, and you’ve born it well. Refresh by the streams of lurkdom, and I hope you come back.

Because, in the end: those emails. That glue.

The holocaust of the children. The ritual and sexual abuse. The murder.

If Q can thread the needle, then good. We can end this evil and soothe what seethes within anons.

If not…

I weep, away from family, away from friends and others. I weep.

So lurk more faggot. I hope to see you back.