Jacob Chansley AKA The Q Shaman has authored two books: Will & Power: Inside The Living Library (2017) and One Mind At A Time: A Deep State of Illusion (2020). One details his spiritual awakening — which involves taking peyote with an interdimensional sasquatch — and the other touches on his political beliefs, which may elucidate his frequent attendance at QAnon and MAGA events and protests. Then, Jake has written a story entitled "Strain VS View".
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Welcome, listener, to Chapter 138 of the QAnon Anonymous Podcast, the Q Shaman Book Review episode.
As always, we are your hosts, Jake Brokatansky, Liv Agar, Julian Field, and Travis View.
Jacob Chansley, also known as the Q Shaman, has been painted as the mascot of the QAnon movement by its critics in the wake of the January 6th storming of the Capitol.
Versions of his costume have been seen at lockdown protests in Canada and Italy.
Even the Q influencers themselves consider Chansley pivotal, but not in a good way.
For them, he is the poster boy of Antifa and Black Lives Matter infiltrators that have come to ruin the QAnon movement and make them look dumb.
Now, the latter claim, of course, is false.
Chansley was only seen interacting with BLM activists because they were on the opposite side of a protest, and even he has vehemently explained this in defense of himself.
Horrified, of course, to not look like a pure patriot.
So, to understand the Q Shaman, who's probably screwed forever, they're gonna put him on the rock, Liv decided to read the two books Jacob Chansley has written, entitled Will and Power, and One Mind at a Time.
The first covers his spiritual journey towards what he calls shamanism, and sees Jacob doing peyote with an interdimensional sasquatch.
The second, of course, is his political manifesto, which may give us a better idea of what drove him to attend so many pro-Trump and QAnon rallies over the years.
But before all that, QAnon News!
For my first story, QAnon influencer Austin Steinbart is released from prison.
Woo!
Spring break!
Spring break!
It's white boy summer.
For those who aren't familiar, Austin Steinbart, also known as Baby Q, is one of the strangest QAnon influencers.
Steinbart actually claims to be Q. Specifically, he claims to be Q from the future who sent the Q drops to the present time.
He's also claimed falsely to be an agent with the Defense Intelligence Agency.
Now, despite the absurdity of his claims, Steinbart has managed to get quite a devoted following.
His followers include Dr. Tammy Powers, who is most famous for her video explaining that, you know, Q is you and Q is me.
So he claims to be Q from the future.
So this is a Q who saw five people die at the Capitol thing, three of which were Q supporters, and was like, nah, I'm not going to like talk about that or change it.
I'm going to say it was a false flag.
Steinbart's career was derailed when he was arrested for threatening to destroy the operations of a file storage company called Datto after they suspended his account.
According to the Department of Justice, Steinbart directed thousands of his YouTube subscribers to flood the company's tech support line with fictitious emails and phone calls in an attempt to hinder the company's ability to operate.
Now, even while in prison, Steinbart continued to post content on YouTube.
It appeared that his supporters recorded his phone calls from jail, which were then uploaded to social media.
Even federal prison cannot stop this man from posting.
Yeah, have we had this before?
Like a guy in jail spreading his message on YouTube through the calls?
Like, is this a thing that's happened in the past?
I don't, I have no idea.
I thought it was very weird.
It was like, I don't, it's like, why?
Wait, wait, Steinbart is in prison.
Yeah.
And in fact, in fact, his release was denied because he tried to use a fake penis to dodge a drug test.
So he was, he was detained.
The Wizenator.
Yeah, but still, he managed to find a way to keep posting because he has a lot of these supporters who are willing to help along his content efforts.
On April 5th, Steinbart was sentenced to time served and one year of supervised release.
During his probationary period, he will be limited to one phone, one computer, and one email address.
He's also forbidden from using social media for that entire year.
This is 1984.
Oh, that's... That's not gonna happen.
No.
In fact, on the day of Steinbart's release, one of his supporters posted a video of him announcing his return.
In the video, Steinbart is sitting next to a table with a large, lit-up queue.
He is also petting a small, uncomfortable dog.
Hello, everyone.
I'm just here at SMG Studios.
And I would like to just thank everyone for their steadfast support throughout this tumultuous times here.
Prison was quite an experience and we got a lot of work to do still, so I hope everyone's ready for an exciting year.
Austin Steinbart supporters are also very happy with this news.
One supporter by the name of Mike Mullins celebrated Austin's release and did some baking of an Elon Musk tweet.
Got a few interesting things happened the last couple days, but most importantly, as of yesterday afternoon, Q is no longer in prison.
So that's good news that the Pharisees are completely ignoring.
Now, of course, I'm talking about Austen Steinbart, and some of you may not call Austen Steinbart Q, and that's perfectly okay.
In fact, I think that's perfectly okay with Austen, because he's always been about his information.
So, and that's some information that is coming your way, now that he's out.
So, real interesting, two days ago in the morning, The day before Austin's sentencing hearing, Elon Musk tweeted out Austin++.
People can say he's talking about Austin, Texas.
We know how this works.
We know better than that.
For my next story, QAnon followers believe there's something suspicious about the death of Prince Philip.
David Gilbert over at Vice News had a great report about this.
Like we discussed last week, the QAnon community wasn't very interested in the accusations of sex trafficking Now, there are obviously plenty of good reasons to hate on the British royal family, even if Prince Andrew wasn't a close friend of Jeffrey Epstein.
a 99-year-old member of the British royal family.
Gone in his prime.
Yeah, so taken from us too early.
Now, there are obviously plenty of good reasons to hate on the British royal family, even if Prince Andrew wasn't a close friend of Geoffrey Epstein.
But instead of focusing on actual abuse and corruption, QAnon followers indulge in their typical brain-scrambling decodes.
For example, QAnon influencer Mel Q observed that Prince Philip died on April 9, 2021, and a Q drop from one year prior made a reference to the phrase, Scott Free.
And that's supposedly significant because Prince Philip was the Duke of Edinburgh, Scotland.
Scott Free, Scotland, it all adds up.
One year delta.
Q predicted it, clearly.
I hear that Prince Philip, after his last visit to the adrenochrome farm, he was actually left out front of the palace for like a second too long, and a garbage truck came by and just put him right in the compactor.
Yeah, I love that the Kewlaw people also, they took pictures of like Prince Philip looking like a corpse.
And they said like, said like, oh, look, he's got his adrenochrome supplies cut off.
No, man.
The guy is like 99 years old and is the product of a thousand years of like incest.
Of course he looks repulsive.
There's a really funny clip on the BBC where someone asked, well, how did the Duke meet the Queen?
And the guy responded, well, they are related.
So probably at some family gathering.
Other QAnon followers observed that the prince died on the 9th, age 99, and what do you get when you turn 999 upside down?
That's right.
666.
Woah.
That's crazy.
Woah.
So like the devil plans all these deaths in advance to also carry hidden meaning.
So much control.
How much control?
It's like you have to take the adrenochrome but the devil also knows the date of your death?
Maybe like Q had him killed on that so that you could see that he was satanic?
Yeah.
If you looked at the date.
The devil actually, I spoke to him and he confided in me.
He said that he actually wanted to take Prince Philip at around 86, 87, but when you flip those numbers upside down it didn't, you know, it didn't really have the kind of significance so unfortunately had to wait an extra 15 years.
Do you want to take that again and as the only Jewish member of the podcast not say you consort with the devil?
No, I'm fine with that.
I heard they wanted to kill him when he was 96.
Yeah, on April 20th.
Yeah, I heard April 20th.
Everyone who dies at 96, clearly horny.
Other QAnon followers tie the recent blockage of the Suez Canal to Prince Philip's death.
Adrenochrome supply got held up in Suez Canal and unfortunately Prince Pompous Philip permanently fainted.
For my next story, the Italian version of the Q Shaman joins protests in Rome.
The Q Shaman, like you mentioned in the intro, Julian, is now an international symbol.
And we actually just saw this the past week because of protests against Italian lockdown measures.
So over the past 14 months, the government of Italy has imposed various lockdown restrictions as part of an attempt to control the pandemic.
This has inspired protests, including a large one in front of the Italian parliament last week.
Among the protesters was 51-year-old Italian businessman named Ermes Ferrari.
Okay, man.
Purse car.
If it means being listened to, I would have dressed up as a zebra.
If it means being listened to, I would have dressed up as a zebra.
We can no longer go on like this.
I just want to work.
This is really interesting because this man, there's no evidence this guy is a QAnon follower, but he was inspired by the QAnon shaman and thought this was just a symbol of general, I guess, anti-government protest.
Yeah.
It's such a spectacle that like all of the, any of the content whatsoever, even in like an American context where people know about Q would associate is like, even that is wiped away.
All he knew was that he was getting a lot of attention.
I mean, he made, uh, because he was like the most, uh, flamboyant part of the insurrection, the Q Shama's picture was showed worldwide.
And I guess lots of people just picked up on it.
It's like, Oh, this is what gets you like on the front page of every newspaper in the world.
Then that was, that's what I'm going to do too.
Q Shaman Book Review When one thinks of the Q Shaman, one might not imagine him as a successful published author.
This is, of course, because he isn't.
He does have two self-published books, though.
They contain, among other things, his political views, some information about his personal life, what the practice of shamanism means to him, and a story of him tripping on peyote with an interdimensional sasquatch.
Mm-hmm.
Sounds like a Jake story.
So, buckle up for a comprehensive dive into the 500 or so pages of Jacob Chansley, also known as Jacob Angeli, also known as the Q Shaman's work.
Of the two books he's released, I recommend you read neither of them, of course, for obvious reasons.
They are, unsurprisingly, very poorly written.
I felt that it was literal torture having to go through these, I'm not gonna lie.
Which you chose!
We didn't assign you this awfulness.
No, yeah, I did it to myself.
This is pure self-hatred, to be clear.
I just want to be clear, we're not giving her two books a week, like, every month, like, read the shittiest, craziest books.
Yeah, but this is, I do find this true with anything that I've had to read for this particular podcast.
It's always been, I haven't read one single thing that I actually enjoyed and thought was well-written.
What do you mean?
You read, like, the mole, the guy, the horny Italian guy who was, like, milking mole tits.
Oh, Giacomo Casanova?
Yeah, you liked him.
I guess that was pretty chill.
I just picture, like, I'm at the intern desk typing something up, Julian comes in smoking a cigarette, like, throws the books on my desk, and is like, you have two weeks!
Hey, kid, you got two fucking weeks, kids!
Read this unintelligible text by a lunatic!
And hey, try to sound less fucking smart.
You're making us look stupid.
I felt like buying these books wasn't the worst thing to do, as it's for research purposes and he's very likely going to jail for a long time.
So I'm not really helping him out too much in getting these.
But if you're still mad at me for giving the Q Shaman money, feel better knowing that I've already thoroughly punished myself by having to read all of the books.
That's so true.
The first and most interesting book by Jacob is called Will and Power.
And was published in 2017 under the pseudonym Lone Wolf.
It's a fictional pseudo-autobiography that stars the replacement for Jacob, whose name is Will.
Hence the name, Will and Power.
Right, so it's not actually an actual, just like, fascist manifesto.
No, it's not.
You can just fuck that up somehow by getting the word Will in there.
It's about a wolf.
It's about a wolf.
Yeah, his name, Will, and how he came to have power.
Yeah, his sidekick, Power.
Yeah.
That's the Sasquatch's name.
But before I get into that, as it is more so the dessert at the end of the episode, I want to first go over his second and admittedly less interesting but probably more important book titled One Mind at a Time.
This was published after he was definitively pilled in late 2019 under the name Jacob Angeli, which, to pull a Washington Post, is not his real name, but a pseudonym taken from his legal first name and his stepfather's last.
Unlike his first book, which was published in 2017, before Q had done their first drop, this book contains references to Q. One Mind at a Time is a political manifesto where Jacob rails against the deep state for brainwashing children through government-controlled education and hegemonic mainstream media institutions that do not tell society the truth.
Now, the only book review I could find of note of any of Jacob's books was, unsurprisingly, his second one.
It compares it to Hitler's Mein Kampf, Mao's Little Red Book, Lenin's State and Revolution, and Saeed Khatab's Milestones.
Whoa.
This may be the stupidest analysis I've ever seen in my life.
It's important to emphasize, as I do a deep dive into the Q Shaman's writings, that he is not a political mastermind and that he has no control or sway over anyone.
Outside of the bizarre spectacle that he's seemingly, I guess, inspired in, like, Italy, for instance.
He's a confused, gullible individual who, because of the New Age mysticism he subscribes to, got sucked into a far-right movement.
I do not wish to say that to excuse or forgive Jacob of his actions, merely to say that he is an insignificant player that is only being paid attention to because he is an absurd spectacle.
On to the book.
Much of it, for some reason, is written entirely in bold text.
Come on man.
It's a stylistic choice.
Just bold all the way through.
Oh yeah.
The things that are not bolded are quotes for some reason.
So all quotes are in italics and not bolded and then all of the the margins are so poorly spaced that you almost have to break the spine by peeling it back to read some of it and there are unsurprisingly frequent grammatical and spelling errors as noticed on the first page.
As a preview, The first page begins with a warning, which says, This warning, for the most part, relates to mentions of Pizzagate,
This warning, for the most part, relates to mentions of Pizzagate.
One example of this being, Without accusing Podesta outright of raping children, it must be noted that in countless emails he is most certainly talking in code of some sort.
His references to cheese pizza sauce, nuts, and many other odd terminologies are so frequent, it begs one to ask, what is John Podesta talking about?
Because it certainly doesn't seem like pizza.
Now, I won't bore you with too much of the usual Q stuff, except to say that it seems clear that the primary thing that got the Q Shaman into Q was Save the Children stuff.
His analysis of the Deep State within this book seems to necessarily revolve around it.
The Deep State, as he conceives of it, includes much of what one would expect from an Anon.
They are Satan-worshipping, create all the problems in our society to benefit off of, poverty, racism, sexism, and use the mainstream media to deceive and cover up their actions.
From this framework, the analysis he extends to American politics is oddly more logically consistent, at moments at least, than one might expect from an anon.
counterparts, have become known as the Deep State.
From this framework, the analysis he extends to American politics is oddly more logically consistent, at moments at least, than one might expect from an anon.
For instance, he writes, The lack of focus on the countless political scandals and militarized police brutality on the streets of America is a perfect example of the deception in the MSM, mainstream media.
The human rights violations perpetuated on Native American citizens by police, K-0 units, and corporate security companies during the North Dakota Access Pipeline NDAP protests are also evidence of the MSM's failure to report facts.
The schools have fostered in the children a naive trust for the authority of the MSM and the government.
If the MSM cared about human rights and not corporate interests, then wouldn't they have reported that the NDAP protesters were shot at with rubber bullets and water cannons at sub-freezing temperatures?
Wouldn't they have shouted daily from their rooftops that dogs were told to attack NDAP protesters?
Or that hundreds of people were arrested for standing up for their rights on reservation land?
No MSM coverage was given to these brave protesters or the human rights violations perpetrated on them by government agencies and corporate security.
These are the Deep State's dissenters being silenced.
Now, I think this is quite unusual for an anon.
Yeah.
Especially considering the North Dakota Access Pipeline protests have continued under Trump, and they're entirely perpetuated by the police, which are, of course, two things that anons love.
Now, I'm sure he argues that Trump has nothing to do with this.
He doesn't explicitly say this.
And that it's only the Deep State that's doing it, which is of course absurd.
Yet it also shows, I think, some capacity the Q Shaman has for being deprogrammed.
It's also important to note the very strange way he later resolves his analysis of the Dakota Pipeline protests.
Writing on the subject of CIA cyber-hacking weapons, he says, For example, I had a friend who was a police officer and went to the NDAP protests.
There he recorded video and communicated to Native American activists across the country as to what civil rights laws were being broken by the police and how the natives could use the breaking of these laws and their many physical abuses to their advantage in court.
However, his phone was being hacked and the videos were being deleted from his phone.
His emails were not going through or their files were being corrupted.
His Facebook messages were not going through at all and eventually none of his legal advice was getting through by email or text either.
It could have been the government or it could have been the oil company that was fighting the natives in the NDAP protests.
We do not know, but his phone and his messages were most definitely the victim of censorship and illegal use of cyber weapons.
I really do not know what to say about this, other than it's a lie, obviously, he came up with to justify his normal love of police, that of course accompanies most to Anon's analysis.
Or maybe, you know, Jacob potentially confronted his friend about why he was complicit in police brutality and the violation of indigenous sovereignty.
And his friends simply lied to him and he's, of course, very gullible and went along with it?
It's really hard to know.
But I included this because it helps show how he can begin with a straightforwardly correct analysis of police brutality and the violation of indigenous sovereignty and somehow land on a line that there are some good cops who are trying to help indigenous people but the corporations or the CIA are using cyber weapons to silence them.
The key tendency here is to take a situation where reasonable analysis is easy to find and somehow manage to complicate it with anecdotes, unverified information, and fictions that lead to the reasonable analysis becoming far less useful.
As we get into his first book later that goes over his spirituality and shamanism, it will become more clear exactly why he's like this.
We can see that in 2020, a few months after this book was published, he began to show up to Black Lives Matter counter-protests, protesting against a group of people who were fighting police brutality.
It's important to pay attention to how something like you can take an individual, generally one who is very, let's say, gullible, Who is nevertheless very readily willing to oppose something like police brutality and make them end up supporting it.
He additionally writes of the Iran-Contra affair, the smuggling of crack cocaine by the CIA into black communities, the Vietnam War, and other genuine factual crimes committed by American intelligence agencies and the military as evidence of why the deep state is bad.
The U.S.
military protects the Deep State's corporate interests both domestically, like the North Dakota Access Pipeline, and in the world abroad, like in Afghanistan or Iraq.
It does so through the monopoly that the government has on the initiation of force and the supremacy of the U.S.
military forces.
In this way, the Deep State may wipe out its foreign and domestic competition through both legal and illegal strategies of war.
Yeah, that just sounds like intelligence.
Yeah, most of this analysis would be fine if you replaced, like, deep state with state, and understood that Trump was a part of it.
Right.
And I want to emphasize, these are absolutely the best, most flattering quotes you can find in the book.
He is, really, pilled to the gills, and believes in a litany of absurd spiritualist bullshit.
He writes, for instance, In the 1990s, a Japanese doctor named Masaru Emoto conducted a series of experiments with the crystalline structure of water.
After introducing the water to different thoughts, words, music, and other environments, he was astonished at the effects.
Each of the different stimuli had different effects on the water's crystalline structures, something he discovered that was very interesting was that prayer could change the crystalline structure of dirty, contaminated water into beautiful, clean water with symmetrically stable patterns embedded in their crystalline structure.
When I discovered this, I began to have hope for all the polluted water in the world, in particular for the people of Japan.
Imagine if just one-third of the world said and felt these words just once every day.
I love the Pacific Ocean.
I'm thankful for the Pacific Ocean.
I am thankful that the radiation from the Fukushima power plant is being neutralized and cleansed by the healing power of prayer.
I am thankful that my prayers of cleansing, healing, and love are being sent to the Pacific Ocean.
And I am thankful for the radiation leak in Fukushima being neutralized completely by the healing power of water.
Wow yeah really incredible stuff I mean you know he's clearly it's a good it's good to summarize a lot of his belief system where he's clearly concerned about the environment and wants to make it better but has just you know yeah no way of discerning obvious bullshit from reality Those who are potentially easiest to deprogram in the Q movement are, I think, of a similar character type to the Q shaman.
When thinking about what motivates someone to believe in QAnon, there's a spectrum between two poles.
One being motivated to use Q as an excuse to do fascism and cause harm, and the other being motivated by a lack of critical reasoning skills and an inability to discern bullshit information online from authentic info.
These are not mutually exclusive, and usually both motivations exist within most anons, where they are partially motivated by an insane patriotic inclination that in many cases remains subconscious to them, but also partially just duped into an absurd worldview and do not understand the full consequences of the motivations they support and how similar it makes them to Mussolini or Hitler supporters.
I really think that the Q Shaman is closer to the innocent individual sucked into something he doesn't understand pole, When describing how he awakened his mind, something his fiction book that we will get into later is all about, he says, When I was a much younger man and in my teens, I was a supporter of President Bush.
I did not care about the deforestation of the Amazon.
I celebrated the war in Iraq and supported corporate industry like big oil companies.
I was also for the militant occupation of foreign nations by the U.S.
for sake of our quote-unquote national security and bringing freedom to foreign lands.
I believe the misinformation I saw on the news networks I also thought conspiracies were for the fringe and the U.S.
government could be trusted.
What changed my opinion on all of these topics?
The first thing was a long list of evidence I had been ignoring for the sake of quote-unquote being right in my opinions about the world and my place in it.
The second thing that changed my opinions would be the several boundary-dissolving experiences I had with psychedelic plants.
Through the plants' intense disruption of my cognitive syntactical world, It was made clear to me that reality was not what it appeared to be on the surface.
And this fact would have to be accepted or the consequences would be dire.
It became quite clear after a while why psychedelic experiences were taboo.
It also became painfully obvious why sacred psychedelic plants like mushrooms, peyote, and ayahuasca were illegal and forbidden by the government.
The plants destroyed the government-engineered mental world I had grown to accept and enjoy.
By breaking it down syntactically and exposing its internal inconsistencies.
Thankfully for us, he goes over his introduction into spiritualism in depth in his first book, Will and Power.
It again must be stated that this is a fictional book that is meant to fantastically document his awakening process.
Now this is not his process of becoming pilled, as this book was written in May of 2017, before Q made their first drop.
It is, instead, a documentation of how he became shaman-pilled.
We begin the book with Will, the fictional character that represents Jacob, dealing with his girlfriend Monique breaking up with him.
His mother, who he lives with, hires a shrink to help him deal with his problems.
I helped your mom a lot following your stepdad's suicide, which I give my condolences to you as well, by the way.
The psychiatrist said, bowing his head slightly.
Thank you.
I said quickly.
He wasn't the greatest dad.
Actually, he was kind of an asshole, part of my language, but he was still my dad.
And for that, I loved him.
His suicide was just the beginning of the snowball, though.
It was at the time of suicide that Monique and I first started having problems.
After he died, things got worse between us, and it wasn't because I was depressed about my dad's death, either.
She just became a total bore and a never-ending buzzkill.
The Q Shaman's legal name is, of course, Jacob Chansley, but he goes by and has his book published under Jacob Angele.
This is, as he has stated, his stepfather's last name.
While we knew before that he had been raised mainly by his stepfather, it was, as far as I know, unknown to the public that he had ended his own life right before Jacob had dived into his shamanist mysticism.
Following this, the shrink then gives him the advice to clear his head by doing something new and adventurous.
Will insists he wants to go on a camping trip alone to clear his head in the Arizona mountains, and his shrink says that that's a great idea, for some reason.
He then returns home to his mother.
I was feeling guilty for not being of more assistance to my mother when she came out of her room with a beer in hand.
Since my stepdad's suicide the previous year, she had been drinking early in the day, and I could tell by her behavior that she was already inebriated.
She responded with tears in her eyes, saying, I'm sorry you're going through heartache, hun.
No mother wants to see her child in pains.
I want you to stay in the city with me, but I understand why you want to leave.
And if Tony, the shrink, says it's a good idea, then I would do it.
Though it may seem like an unending pain, heartache finds and leaves us all at some point in our lives.
Jacob is very clearly a mama's boy, as he does in real life live with his mother, or at least he did.
I guess he's in prison now.
So the emphasis in his fictional pseudo-autobiography on her is not a surprise.
The book goes on to describe his mother by saying, My mother was like a melting pot for the world's religions into one person, but I don't think she fully understood each of them to their depths.
She had a few medicine men in her bloodline, so she was very open to the idea of paranormal experiences.
However, her spiritual malarkey always seemed like circular logic to me.
She would say things like, God is because God is.
And that just never made sense to me, even as a child.
I merely replied, I see it too, mom.
I see it too.
Intentionally leaving no window for further comment on the previous subject, I said, Oh, I had that dream again.
Three nights in a row.
The one you have had since you were a baby?
She asked.
I nodded affirmatively.
Jacob appears to be claiming indigenous ancestry, I think, by referencing the multitude of medicine men in his family tree.
Although this may be a metaphor, or a fictional detail he's added, or like an Elizabeth Warren situation.
It's hard to know.
Also, the dream being referenced, which is a continually recurring theme within the book, involves him fighting off an evil monster that attacks Los Angeles through good vibes and a shamanist ritual.
The dream starts with me observing myself standing shirtless and barefoot on a large red mountain peak in the deserts of Sedona, Arizona.
Oh, God fucking dammit!
Sedona, fuck again!
Oh, yes.
It's always this fucking vortex!
It's a, it's, it is a vortex, they're correct about that, but they're not correct about what the nature of the things spinning around each other are.
I had no clue about... Can you elaborate on that, actually?
It is considered the place where you go to, like, 5D Ascend.
It is, like, Starseed Central.
They believe it's, like, one of the most powerful spiritual places on Earth.
And, of course, the amount of con artists that yields and the beautiful nature means that, yeah, people are constantly doing stuff like playing didgeridoo into each other.
Not joking.
No stoplights in Sedona, Arizona.
There are only roundabouts to cut down on light pollution.
And also, it's the only McDonald's in the world that doesn't have the golden arches.
The golden arches are instead turquoise to better match the decor.
Wow, incredible.
Because that's where he goes.
That's where his camping trip goes.
That's where he meets the Sasquatch.
Yeah, of course.
I am bald, with a full black beard, huge muscles, and I'm covered head to toe in symbols and patterns resembling tribal tattoos.
Slightly perplexed, I look at myself, standing atop the mountain.
This is, I would hope, an element of the book that is fantastical and fictionalized, and he's not genuinely arguing he had dreams where he was the Q-Shaman when he was a child.
The book reveals some more seemingly authentic details of his childhood later on, though, after he has said goodbye to his mom and friends and is heading out to his camping trip in Sedona.
As I drove up the winding I-17, I thought as critically as possible about the events that led me to my current predicament.
Only to recall that my childhood development was a very confusing and testing time.
I searched my memory to find where my spiritual inquires were derailed.
I realized that they had stopped at around age 13 while my mom worked nights, allowing my drunken stepdad to have full control of the house for hours before bedtime.
Countless nights he insisted that my brother and I fall in line in military ranks to stand at attention for hours upon hours and listen to him drone on about politics, the military, and religion.
We were forced to stand with our arms and hands at our side, pressing our fingers together tightly so no daylight could bend between them.
Our straight, stiff hands were to lay perfectly flat on our sides, with our thumbs touching the seams of our pants.
If we moved or interrupted his ramblings without permission, It would result in a punishment of push-ups or abdominal crunches.
Occasionally I stood up to him by refusing to stand for hours or do unjustified push-ups.
However, I found that such rebellions were met with the smart end of a belt, slap to the face, or a punch to the chest.
He knew he could get away with all of this drunken tyranny, as long as my mom was working nights.
Coincidentally, I remember the day she quit working nights.
I had my recurring dream the morning before.
The fact that this is a fictional rendition of his life, and probably for other reasons as well, means one does have to take all of this with a grain of salt.
An example of where the account of his life in his book is played up can be seen in how he explains his past military services.
Thinking the army was a place where my leadership skills would be more appreciated and a place that my desire to take the initiative would be welcomed, I joined.
Which it was at first, but I also asked why far too often.
Asking why is a big no-no when given orders.
I was dubbed too free of a thinker by the psychologists on staff to move on to Special Ops training.
Ironically, the Special Forces psychologists were right, because I was later booted out of the Army for not obeying a direct order to shoot all suspected terrorists, which included possible innocent civilians fleeing the scene.
Now it's important to note that the real reason Jacob was discharged from the Navy after serving on an aircraft carrier for a year was for refusing to take an anthrax vaccine.
Okay.
So maybe not all of the things depicted in the book are real.
Keep that in mind.
Moving on with the story, Will goes on his solo camping trip to Sedona and encounters something rather peculiar at his campsite.
I opened my eyes to see near the edge of the circle a few feet in front of me stood a nine foot tall black hairy primate creature.
It did not move.
It only stood there and stared with its dark eyes from under its protruding brow into my soul.
At that moment, Every legend I had ever heard about a Bigfoot or Sasquatch instantly became begrudgingly validated.
Holy fucking shit, I thought to myself.
This can't be real.
This can't be happening right now.
I immediately jumped up from my knees to my feet, screamed like a child to try to run my ass out of there.
However, in a panic, I wedged my foot between two rocks just outside the circle.
The twisting fall of my botched getaway broke my right shinbone clean in half.
Will is then taken in by the Sasquatch and it becomes his mentor.
The Sasquatch, whose name is Isu, is described as having a white crescent moon tattoo running across the top of his forehead with the crescent points touching its protruded brow.
The tattoo is an important detail as it comes to inspire Jacob's own numerous bizarre tattoos.
Some have imagined these tattoos were inspired by a Nazi appropriation of, for instance, the Valknut and other Norse paganist imagery.
While I think that that's a fair assumption given that he is the QAnon shaman, And there are many Anons who are explicitly white supremacists, and there are many who participated in the January 6th insurrection who are explicitly white supremacists.
It seems as if it's instead connected to his weird shamanist philosophy that appropriates Tibetan Buddhism, Nordic paganism, and indigenous spiritual practices.
While mentoring him, Isu tells Will of the story of his home planet, and how it got taken over by a cabal of dark lords.
The Dark Spirits possessed our leaders and wiped our species' memories.
They changed every aspect of our society.
They gave us a new culture and a new history, making them our infallible gods.
The Dark Lords then became our highest authority, and once the authority of a culture is corrupted, there is no real law or order.
There is only the illusion of law and order.
We abandoned all previous tasks and served them in every way, including performing all manner of sensual pleasure for them.
Tending to their every desire, destroying our environment for resource accumulation.
Our species also had to perform all manner of ceremony and ritual sacrifice in praise of these Dark Lords.
In some cases, those who served the Dark Lords were forced to give up their loved ones as part of the ritual sacrifice to show their devotion.
Once our population grew in number, the Dark Lords continued their control through the use of a monetary system, which were rooted in debt.
Through this technique, Our populations were controlled until their near extinction.
The Dark Lords created systems to keep everyone busy by giving everyone meaningless jobs to acquire the money they had created.
By removing spirits from the natural system of their planet and putting them into a false system constructed to serve the Dark Lords' agenda, the connection that my ancestors' spirits had to the spirit of our planet was lost.
It's interesting to note that this book was written before the first Q drop, so it's literally impossible for Jacob to have been pilled at this point.
So the extremely on-the-nose analogy of what the fictional Dark Lords of the Sasquatch's planet were doing to them, and what they are, according to Isu, doing to our planet now, could not have been inspired by Q. Jacob is so pilled that he was pilled before you could be pilled, essentially.
Considering this, it's absolutely not a surprise he became an anon.
At worst, this is a product of Jacob being around antisemitic conspiracy theories that would later coagulate into Q, and this is certainly possible.
I personally think the reason his pre-Q shamanism was so syncretic with Q is that it was influenced so closely by American Protestantism.
He's very clearly influenced by his Christian mother, who is Also extremely pilled, and believes Jesus was a practitioner of shamanism, the similarities that we can find between Q and Jacob's weird syncretic belief system are not a coincidence, in the same way that it is not a coincidence that there is a deep similarity between Q and a lot of American Protestant beliefs.
The way that the Sasquatch species managed to fight against the Dark Lords was, to no one's surprise, the practice of shama.
My ancestors changed our culture to factor in the mistakes of the Dark Lords and the intuitive wisdom of our culture prior to their meddling, shaping a new culture entirely from a mutual understanding between spiritual freedom and personal responsibility.
They called this new form of transcended culture Shama.
Right now, your species is early enough in the parasitic absorption process to expel them from this planet forever.
If the people of this world incorporate the ways of Shama into their lives, your species will be able to recognize the truth about the Dark Lords and the fact that they have hijacked your planet.
This is essentially the exact same argument that Jacob puts forward for how to destroy the deep state in his most recent book, that he made obviously after he'd become pilled.
That book is called One Mind at a Time because he is attempting, through shamanism, to overcome the mass deceptions of the deep state, mainly through the mainstream media and the education system, one mind at a time.
It appears that QAnon has given him a capacity to further articulate his weird spiritual shamanism, specifically directing him towards who the enemy that is producing bad vibes is, slotting in the Q conception of this enemy from his previously vague idea of, you know, evil spirits.
What being a shaman essentially entails is taking a lot of psychedelics and vibing.
Isu teaches Will exactly how to do this.
Isu pulled out a brown bag from behind his back and opened it.
Inside was a wooden bowl.
Inside the bowl looked like a bunch of beige powder of varying shades.
Isu handed me the bowl and said, Here, eat this powder and drink it down with water.
This passage begins the approximately 100 pages of vivid descriptions of Will's experiences tripping on peyote.
100 pages!
Oh man, that rocks.
In these 100 pages, he finds the truth about the world and is able to see the vibes of everyone, including the bad vibes of the evil spirits destroying his world.
Of particular note in these pages is the four major traumas of his childhood, which he goes over, that he must overcome.
I saw a memory of my early childhood.
I was an infant lying naked on an operating table, and a doctor wearing medical gloves, a face mask, and a surgical uniform walks up, grabs my penis, and begins to cut the skin.
I scream, cry, and wail in agony as the man completes the circumcision and sews up my now bleeding and tender flesh.
I felt the full weight that the trauma still had on my developing infant psyche as I watched this gruesome act, and in a sudden rush, I felt the intense shock, horror, and disbelief that I felt at the time.
While I looked at the ground in nauseous disgust, the scenery began to change.
When I looked up, I was in a park, observing my stepdad push me on a swing that was inside of a sand pit.
I was only two years old, and he told me to hold on to the chains so I wouldn't fall off.
But being a naive toddler, I did not understand, and I let go of the chains in the midst of being pushed, causing me to fly and fall face first into the sand of the playground.
The shock and confusion I felt the moment of impact hit me like a ton of bricks and I relived the feelings and experiences in this memory too.
This was my second clear memory from life on earth and I had suppressed it altogether.
As I looked to my left the scene changed again and I watched myself at age four and a half.
My parents and their friends were sitting on the couch watching the TV.
As I watched the TV, I saw an action figure commercial, and I immediately wanted the advertised toy.
I remember wanting it so badly I asked my mom for it right then and there.
She replied that she didn't have the money to buy it right away, but she would see about getting it for Christmas.
For the first time in my life, I felt disappointed.
Inadequate and deprived of something I thought was essentially for my happiness.
All because I didn't have the action figure I saw on TV.
This was my third strong memory from childhood that I had almost completely forgotten as I relived the feelings of disappointment and confusion.
While I looked at myself crying over this perceived loss, my body dissolved and when I looked up I saw myself a few feet away at age five lying in bed asleep.
My mother came into my room and told me Hey Will, you have to get up for school.
Today is your first day.
When I got to school, I did not realize that I was going to be staying there without my mom and when she left I began to feel a deep state of fear and panic.
I didn't want to stay in my seat.
I wanted to play outside.
I didn't want to write my name.
I wanted to draw a dinosaur.
I didn't want to stop playing after recess was over.
I wanted to continue to use my imagination.
I was miserable all day until my mom was there to pick me up later.
But I felt an even worse dread than I had felt the day before when I had to get up in the morning and go back to school again for the rest of the day.
I thought it was just a short adventure at the time and did not understand that I would have to keep going back there for years and years to come.
It wasn't until a full week of school was complete that I realized I would have to keep going back whether I liked it or not.
The whole experience was very traumatizing for me and I had never really fully gotten over it.
So yeah, the four major traumas of his childhood was getting circumcised, falling off the swing set, not getting a toy, and having to go to school.
God.
So... I don't think any children have experienced that.
Yeah, that's... yeah.
I was going into this book expecting maybe something like a profound revelation about his past, but I think what this reveals is that he hasn't had a particularly interesting life.
Finally, after Isu teaches Will the ways of Shama through psychedelics, Will then returns to society to use his newfound knowledge to preach the truth about evil spirits that are taking over the world.
From the rectangular metal structures mounted on the tall grey towers, I saw the negative chi of the Dark Lord's spells spewing forth and permeating the entire valley.
After close inspection, I noticed that the chi was made of varying dark symbols, each one standing for a different negative feeling.
Among the net of symbols racing across the sky and raining down on the city were hate, Death.
Fear.
Destruction.
Disease.
Anger.
Scarcity.
Sadness.
Confusion.
Duality.
Pain.
Depression.
Separation.
Suppression.
Segregation.
Dominance.
Racism and Sexism.
All the feelings that caused pain and problems in the human world were represented in the frequencies and their symbols flying through the air and raining down from the net in the sky.
I found it interesting I could discern what each of the symbols meant just by looking at them in my awakened state.
So the Q Shaman had already subscribed to the 5G cell tower's cause bad health theory before being pilled.
This is another element of his absurd belief system that pushed him even further towards becoming pilled after he discovered QAnon.
We have in this book, in the pre-pilled Q-shaman, a distrust in the government, the belief that the world has been taken over by a force of evil, and a distrust in technology.
A distrust in the government, the belief that the world has been taken over by a force of evil, and a distrust in technology.
This is basically a recipe to get pilled.
It's a pilled trifecta.
And importantly has no direct interaction with white nationalism or fascism.
As a result of this, I think his belief system is a good example of how Q can mold generally gullible and influenceable people who are well-meaning towards a fascist far-right cult.
My deep dive into the Q Shaman's book has been very illuminating and also an excruciating and miserable experience.
I think considering how he turned from a mystic hippie that loved the environment and thought the government and the police were corrupt, towards someone who counter-protested Black Lives Matter protests and participated in the January 6th insurrection is important to understand how so many people get recruited into the fascist cult that is QAnon.
I think it's worth considering that many people who had a similar path to becoming pilled that Jacob did can be deprogrammed.
I think there's a path towards that.
If the people around them, their relatives, their friends and families are able to push them out, I think it's very possible.
No, yeah, if they haven't assimilated far-right and nationalist ideology, like, deep within their core, if the core is still, like, shamanism and some New Age beliefs, Then yes, I think that this is definitely a salvageable person because they haven't fallen sway necessarily to ideology so much as this kind of organic creation of an extension of the culture they were already experiencing.
I mean, if he voted for Bush, took psychedelics, tripped out, was like, wow, the new reality is like the, you know, the pipeline is bad.
And then later finds out actually there's a way to still kind of be a bit of a Republican, you know, guy.
But it still works with my current New Age beliefs, because there's, you know, this new, amazing setup that you can get with QAnon, where that stuff just works in tandem.
And so I think, yeah, he's—I think he's more of a case of that than someone—you know, and you will see this a lot.
Like, Krystle Teenie was someone who had a Republican family, came to LA to do New Age stuff.
She was in our New Age to QAnon pipeline episode.
And her family back home was always, like, you know, heavily pro-Trump Republican, and so it was a bit of an almost gestalt for her to kind of finally be like, actually, that fits too.
This also works.
You know, this wholeness, this non-duality means that now I can actually, you know, pick and choose from Republican beliefs, Trump beliefs, nationalism, and still do yoga and still do all this other stuff.
One thing I think is interesting, too, is that this is a really good example to show that QAnon didn't create a lot of these theories.
That a lot of this stuff existed, you know, long before Q came along.
Q just found a way, like Julian was saying, to make it easier for a pilled internet boomer to sort of digest a lot of these theories that have been around for a while.
It does what the spectacle is so good at, which is, by adjacency, it creates wholeness.
Mmm, nice.
You see the two things at once and it's like, well look at them!
They're visible together!
Well gosh darn, didn't know those two could fit.
Mm-hmm.
Stupid thoughts and absurd beliefs are always gonna exist.
They're like human nature or whatever.
And I feel like a lot of people respond to Q by saying that.
It's like, well of course these things are gonna happen.
But I think like what the Q shamanism belief system highlights is like, in a better world he would just be a weird spiritualist shaman guy and he wouldn't be a part of a far-right cult.
Speaking of weird peyote trips, I do have a... What do you have?
You found something?
Is this an old book you found?
Oh, it's a DVD that you found in your closet, and it turns out there was text on it.
What's... No, I actually, believe it or not, I wrote this.
I wrote this over the course of the last week.
This story was supposed to appear in last week's episode, but because of the theme and everything, it felt a little inappropriate.
So I think this is a good place to sort of premiere it for the first time.
Who's it about?
It's actually about one of our co-hosts, Travis, which is kind of weird.
I know Travis has never really starred in a story before, but this really doesn't focus so much on Travis, but more his struggling alter ego who goes by the name of Logan Strain.
That's made up, obviously, but that's a cool alter ego.
So, without further ado, I present to you this week's story, which is titled... Logan Strain slammed the phone back down on the receiver.
Another bill collector.
It was hard enough getting the notices in the mail, let alone receiving aggressive phone calls from strangers demanding he pay his Spectrum bill.
Should've gone with the slower bandwidth, Logan lamented.
He wasn't even sure what that meant.
His internet was dementedly slow, and between a twenty-something kid and two adults in the house, nightly browsing sessions often turned into heated arguments and a clearing of everyone's cash.
The daytime was even worse.
Nine hours a day slogging away writing copy for some asshole who thought his name was Darren.
His latest task had been to invent a promo code button that sucked people's brains out through their nostrils.
It was an easy algorithm, sure, but Logan couldn't be bothered to lift a damn finger.
What was the point?
It's not like work was really paying the bills anyways.
And to top it off, all of the money he had saved for the last decade wasn't worth the paper it was printed on.
Some network analyst had cracked the code in 22 and exposed the Federal Reserve.
Everything was crypto now.
He had watched in total despair as all of his friends and colleagues who had jokingly dumped $200 into Dogecoin became multi-trillionaires overnight.
Once that happened, no one really stuck around in the old neighborhood.
Most were long gone by now, living on the moon playing Low Gravity Crater Hole, an updated version of what's known as golf here on Earth.
If Logan was being honest with himself, it had been a rough couple of years.
He would often go for walks in the nearby woods in an effort to clear his head.
But even that had been taken from him.
As of last month, the forest had been cleared to make way for obscene-looking sound stages owned by a popular social media platform known as TikTok.
Now, when he walked the old trails, instead of trees and birds and flowers, all Logan could see were emaciated-looking teenagers pointing and performing silly dance moves in front of an array of cell phones.
It was depressing.
Every night, it would be the same argument with his wife.
Why hadn't he reached out to Travis View?
Perhaps he would be willing to help.
It was never-ending.
Now, VIEW was an online persona that Logan had invented years ago to wage digital war against a group of incredibly misinformed people who believed that a second American revolution would unfold before their eyes.
Once the VIEW account had gotten popular, it seemed to take on a mind of its own.
doing television appearances, being quoted in well-established newspapers, and even starting a popular podcast, whatever that was.
Logan tried not to think about it.
Every time he did, he became so filled with jealousy and rage that he could physically feel his blood surging through his veins.
He would often daydream for hours the arguments that they would have if they ever met.
Logan imagined not only View's snarky accusations, but his own scathing retorts, leaving Travis feeling dumb and empty inside.
Maybe he would spit in his face.
No, no.
Too intense.
And potentially assault.
He would spit at his feet, that's what he would do.
Logan was constantly shadowboxing, often spacing out for minutes at a time while his family stared at him, wondering if he had even heard what they said just seconds ago.
This is so far from reality, it's crazy.
One night, after coming home exhausted from an entire day of selling old clothes and unfinished video games to pay for the week's groceries, Logan got a wild hair.
He sat down in front of his aging laptop, opened a fresh incognito browser, and typed the letters he hated the most.
Dozens of photographs and articles littered the screen.
Some were of him, but others were of a paranoid-looking man sporting a goatee portraying various emotions.
When he dug in deeper, the trail seemed to run cold.
For all intents and purposes, Travis View appeared to be Logan.
But it was impossible, he thought.
Travis View seemed like he was making a living wage at the very least, and Logan hadn't seen a fucking dime.
He could feel his blood pressure beginning to rise, and quickly slammed the lid of the computer.
What's wrong, Dad?
Logan snapped his head around, embarrassed.
His daughter was standing in the doorway wearing stitched together potato sacks.
The best the family could afford.
Ah, it's nothing.
She asked if he had been Googling Travis View again, and, unable to lie to his own flesh and blood, he admitted he had.
Why not go find him, she asked.
Logan tried to explain how pointless it would be, how even if he had the money to track him down, he wouldn't even know where to begin.
The man was a ghost.
No address, no telephone number, just a snarky Twitter account that seemed to be completely dormant since 2021.
It was hopeless, he sighed.
But Dad, doesn't your company make identity check softwares?
Couldn't you just run Travis View through one of your programs and figure out where he lives?
Logan just about fell backwards out of his chair.
It was brilliant!
He jumped to his feet and hugged his daughter quickly before diving back onto the laptop.
Together, in the wee hours of the morning, the two of them stared excitedly at the glowing screen.
He made a few keystrokes, typing the cursed name into the program's search engine.
A small wheel began to spin.
It was searching.
A loading bar appeared across the screen.
The program was searching through thousands of records.
The two of them marveled at the speed at which the software combed through hundreds upon hundreds of names and addresses.
A second loading bar appeared.
Then a third.
Then a fourth.
Soon, the screen was filled with dozens of loading bars, all working diligently to bring them the information they so desperately desired.
Logan's eyes refocused as the final bar blipped steadily across the screen.
98%.
99%.
100%.
A new panel appeared.
There was a match.
A Ukrainian address!
Logan couldn't believe it!
He was real!
After a moment of hesitation, he clicked on the name.
Retrieve this entire record for 249 doge coins.
God damn it!
Logan slammed his fist on the desk.
It was just his luck to come so close, only to be frozen out by a malignant paywall on the very software he spent all day convincing people to buy.
Logan's daughter could see he was crushed.
She slowly held her wrist out.
A glowing microchip could be seen embedded in it.
Here, dad.
It's the last of my doge.
I was- I was saving it for something special.
This counts.
Logan collapsed to the ground in tears.
He was overcome with emotion at the selflessness of this act.
After refusing her offer twice, he hesitatingly accepted.
And together, they scanned her microchip into the laptop, deducting her remaining crypto.
The screen whirred to life.
Panels appeared with all the information you could want.
View was 44, living on the outskirts of Kiev.
Logan pulled up the coordinates on Bing Maps.
Things were getting more real by the second.
On Bing Street View, there was no mistaking it.
The residence was an obscenely large mansion, complete with a fountain, swimming pool, and acres upon acres of land.
Logan's jaw dropped.
Without thinking, he grabbed a nearby duffel and began stuffing clothes into it.
He would go to Ukraine.
He would find Travis View.
He would calmly explain how Travis had stolen his entire identity and he wouldn't leave until he was fairly compensated.
50-50.
No, that might seem too aggressive.
40%.
That would be more than enough.
25% would be the lowest he would go, he decided.
His daughter looked worried.
But Dad, how are you going to get all the way to Ukraine?
You don't have any money.
Logan, with a sense of purpose for the first time in a decade, squinted his eyes and flashed a mischievous grin.
Don't worry, baby.
Dad will think of something.
An hour later, he was standing nervously in the receiving terminal for the city's Hyperloop station.
Sleek-looking cars arrived, unloaded their passengers, and then took off at breakneck speeds on the winding railways that splintered off into multiple tunnels.
Logan knew he would only have one shot to get this right.
Over the loudspeaker, a synthetic voice made a monotone announcement.
All passengers for car 1717 with service to Kiev, Ukraine.
Final boarding call.
Logan locked in on the tram.
It was about a hundred feet beyond the barrier.
He waited until a rider exited the terminal and the large automatic doors opened out to the platform.
He took off.
Hey!
Somebody stop him!
Logan could hear vague shouting behind him.
But his focus was on the tram, which hissed and whined as its clamps released from the docking station and its engine powered up.
He glanced over his shoulder.
Four guards, waving electrified batons, chased him desperately.
He dug the bottoms of his worn sneakers into the concrete.
Once that train took off, There was no way he would be able to catch it, and if he didn't make it aboard, his life, as he knew it, would be over.
Logan reached the peak of his sprint.
In slow motion, he watched as the car, just 15 feet away, started to buck forward.
With everything in his body, he slammed his left foot into the ground beneath him, catapulting himself into the air with a ferocious cry.
As he did, adamantium claws exploded from his knuckles, surprising everyone in the terminal, including him.
He slammed into the side of the tram, Digging the 14-inch razor-sharp appendages deep into the steel.
The car exploded out of the terminal, with Logan gripping on for dear life.
The G's from the turn tore at his insides.
His vision started to blur.
He gritted his teeth and held on for dear life.
After an intense couple of seconds, the track leveled out and Logan found himself traveling 1,100 miles per hour through a magnificent underwater tunnel.
Outside the transparent Hyperloop tube, he watched in complete awe as vast oceans and underwater volcanoes flew by him.
He saw schools containing thousands of bright colorful fish, massive continents made out of pastel corals, and a giant squid battling a sperm whale as he careened through the depths.
The tram came to a gentle instantaneous stop in a busy terminal.
Logan marveled at Alain's invention and finally agreed with Emperor Buttigieg this was the future of transportation.
He quietly slipped off the back of the tram as station attendants shouting in Russian rushed forward to inspect the smoldering claw marks on the side of the car.
Logan slowed his stride and calmly blended in with the hundreds of other excited passengers making their way out of the terminal.
He emerged on a bustling terrace, where people were standing near their automated luggage, waiting for self-driving taxis to take them wherever they needed to go.
Without a single doge loaded onto his implanted microchip, Logan did what he did best.
He walked.
He walked for miles, marveling as the metropolitan cityscape gave way to lush countryside.
As his tired feet trudged onward, Logan imagined the infinite number of conversations he could potentially have with Travis, and the infinite ways he might go about asking for money.
All felt wrong.
But in his heart, he knew he deserved it.
Hadn't he suffered long enough?
It was time to settle this thing once and for all.
He hoped Travis Fews spoke English.
He glanced up from the worn piece of paper where he had written the address, now smeared and almost unreadable.
1776 Micherina.
Logan looked out in front of him.
The palace was even more impressive in person.
A long winding driveway, perfectly paved, led up to a roundabout surrounding an ornate fountain.
Logan took in the identically manicured hedges lining the yard.
Priceless statues stood peacefully, nestled deep into exotic gardens.
He was startled to see various wildlife, long since thought extinct, living in total harmony with the grounds.
It was magnificent.
He thought he saw a white rabbit scurry into a small hole just beyond the hedge.
Logan reached the massive golden doors at the front of the mansion.
He raised his fist and gave a sturdy knock.
A pencil-thin man with thinning hair and a pointy mustache answered the door.
He spoke with a light British accent and an air of condescension.
Hello?
May I help you?
Logan cleared his throat.
Yes, I'm looking for a Travis View.
I was told I could find him here.
The butler slammed the door and disappeared.
Logan wasn't sure what to do.
He knocked again to no avail.
He glanced over his shoulder back down the winding driveway inside.
There was nowhere else to go.
After what was probably about ten minutes, the front door opened a crack.
The butler seemed unfazed.
Did the gentleman have an appointment?
Whatever Logan had prepared himself for in his mind, this certainly wasn't it.
Uh, just tell him Logan Strain is here to see him.
He knows who I am.
The butler stared at him for a beat.
One moment.
He slammed the door once again, this time disappearing for nearly 20 minutes!
All the hot air Logan had built up over the course of the last decade deflated almost instantly at the bizarreness of the whole ordeal.
He was left feeling overwhelmed and underprepared for whatever lived beyond those golden doors.
And just then, with a mighty creak, they swung open.
Revealing the slim butler in all of his glory, standing in a museum-esque entryway, a clean towel draped over his arm.
Right this way, sir!
He led a bug-eyed Logan through the massive interior.
There were original Michelangelos, Leonardo's, Raphael's, and Donatello's littering the walls of the decadent palace.
I wished I wasn't on an island so I could strangle you.
I apologize for keeping you waiting.
The grounds are over 40,000 square feet.
A train set scooted around on sets of tracks lining the molding, carrying various letters and messages to different sections of the house.
The butler called out over his shoulder, I apologize for keeping you waiting.
The grounds are over 40,000 square feet.
It takes quite a while to get from one end to the other.
Logan scoffed.
This was a level of wealth he couldn't have ever imagined, and to think it had all come from finding something on the internet very stupid and allowing it to consume one's life.
He shook his head out of sheer bewilderment.
If he had received this kind of dough, he wouldn't have wasted it on something as grotesque as this.
A slightly more sophisticated still photography camera maybe, or an education fund for his A sensible automobile?
Not this.
Thoughts continued to race through his head.
The butler led Logan out of a modest-looking side door and across a large backyard complete with a soccer field and basketball court.
On the far side of the field, Logan spied a small shed cobbled together out of plywood behind a large chain-link fence.
His awe and jealousy had turned to confusion.
The butler unlocked a heavy padlock on a small gate in the fence and motioned for Logan to step through.
Once on the other side, the butler pulled the gate shut and replaced the lock.
Mr. View will see you now.
There was a small rustling in the shed and a disheveled man with a bowl cut and scraggly goatee emerged from a small entrance.
He looked Logan up and down and then spoke with a thick Ukrainian accent.
I have been waiting for this day, brother.
He opened his arms as if to pull Logan in for a hug.
But Logan quickly backed away.
He demanded to know what the hell was going on.
Was this some cruel joke?
A deliberate deception meant to further insult him by pretending to live in absolute squalor?
Travis seemed hurt by the accusations.
My friend, no, no!
This is my home, I swear to you!
Logan shook his head in disbelief.
But what about the mansion?
The toucans?
Travis smiled and placed his hand on his hips.
No, no, my friend.
The palace belongs to my cousin.
He was generous to allow me to live on the grounds after, well, after the money ran out.
Logan grew angry.
Money ran out?
What do you mean the money ran out?
Travis looked a little embarrassed.
My friend, did you not hear?
A man, very smart man, expert in alternate reality games, he destroyed QAnon in 21, maybe early 22.
He shrugged his shoulders.
After that, there was no more work.
The world lived in perfect harmony.
What can I say?
Logan charged Vue.
His body made an impact at a force that knocked Travis clean off his feet and through the chain link fence.
They collapsed onto a small village designed for one of Travis's cousin's model trains.
There, amongst the model neighborhoods and miniature skyscrapers, the two men slugged each other near to death, trading behemoth punches like two ancient gods battling for the fate of the world.
Eventually, the punches grew weak and inaccurate.
The two men separated and collapsed near where the fight had begun.
Logan raised his weary head, now bloodied and bruised from the melee.
Travis lay breathing heavy and clutching his side a couple feet from him.
Logan glanced into the shed house a few feet away.
Inside were two middle-aged men, one with wire-thin glasses sporting a long gray mullet, and the other completely bald with noticeably bare feet, passing a withered, bent spliff back and forth between them.
Travis coughed a couple times, clambered to his feet, and unlodged a broken tooth from the rear of his jaw.
He flashed a bloody grin at Logan and gestured to the shed.
Come!
Stay a while!
Logan stared at the shed, standing nearly shoulder to shoulder with Travis, the tips of their knuckles lightly brushed against one another.
All of the rage that had built inside Logan for all these years, it was gone.
For the first time in a while, he could think clearly.
This man wasn't his enemy.
Nah, you know what?
My family's probably pretty worried about me.
I should get back to America.
America," Travis Few nodded solemnly.
He once again opened up his arms.
No hard feelings?
Logan regarded the man.
He was scrawny, with an atrocious haircut and a mind-numbingly stupid expression on his face.
No hard feelings.
Logan descended into Travis' arms and the two shared a long embrace.
Travis' expression shifted from delight to surprise.
He looked down at his stomach.
Blood was beginning to soak through his white t-shirt.
Logan followed his expression downward.
Protruding out of his knuckles, the razor-sharp adamantium claws were lodged firmly in Travis' side.
He hadn't even felt them come out.
Logan staggered back, horrified.
I didn't mean to, they just... Travis stared right through him, a look of utter betrayal plastered on his face as he tumbled backwards.
The two guys in the shed looked a little scared, but continued to pass the spliff back and forth.
Logan put his hands over his head.
What had he done?
As he watched the surrounding grass turn a dark crimson, dozens of white vans appeared out of nowhere.
They screeched to a halt a couple of yards away, and chattering reporters piled out of the doors excitedly, clutching notepads and cameras.
Amidst the chaos and quickly fading daylight, Logan could just barely make out the writing on the side of one of the vans.
Democracy dies in the darkness.
The end.
You're a bad person, Jake.
Thanks for listening to another episode of the QAnon Anonymous podcast.
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Thank you.
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Listener, until next week, may the deep dish bless you and keep you.
It's not a conspiracy, it's a fact.
And now, today's Auto-Q.
I mean, if you think about it, Christ was right.
He brought down the Roman Empire because if it wasn't for the fact that there were so many Christians all throughout the Roman Empire, Constantine would not have converted to Christianity on his deathbed.
It's because the Christians were knocking on the door of Rome being like, hey dude, this is what we all believe and you're not going to be able to control our minds anymore with your black magic.
So, that's when the Romans said, okay, well, we're Christian now, and then instead of cancelling all the pagan holidays and all that stuff, they just grafted Jesus' story onto their pagan traditions.
So, the birth of the sun on the 25th of December, after the three days of darkness, or the three days of death, That became Christ's birthday.
