The Nature and the Impotence of the Next Manufactured Crisis

 

Manson was used as the face of the Hippie and anti-war movement in the 70s

Timothy McVeigh became the face of the protests against government overreach in the 90s

Osama Bin Laden became the face of anti-American sentiment in the 2000s

It wouldn’t surprise me if, in the coming days, we witness a major act of violence — some catastrophic event that’s blamed on a so-called “sovereign citizen” or “domestic extremist.” Given the long history of government agencies like the CIA and FBI manipulating public perception — from MKUltra’s experiments in mind control to Operation CHAOS infiltrating and sabotaging anti-war movements — such an event would fit a familiar pattern. When power feels threatened, it manufactures a crisis to justify its grip.

We’ve seen it before. The Manson murders painted the counterculture as unhinged and dangerous, reinforcing mainstream fears about the growing wave of social change. The Oklahoma City bombing discredited populist anger toward government overreach in the wake of Waco and Ruby Ridge. And 9/11 handed the state unprecedented surveillance powers, sold to the public as the necessary price of security. Each of these events had the effect — whether by design or opportunism — of pulling a frightened population back under the wing of authority, drowning out dissent in a wave of fear and conformity.

Now, as public trust in government, banking, and media crumbles, and as wars abroad expose the corruption driving them, power faces a crisis of control. The old narratives are failing. People are questioning too much — the Federal Reserve’s manipulation of the dollar, the legitimacy of endless war, and the very foundation of centralized authority itself.

A major act of destruction, blamed on someone painted as an “extremist,” would be a predictable — perhaps desperate — attempt to reverse that awakening. The goal wouldn’t simply be to frighten people, but to discredit anyone questioning the system. Sovereign citizens, gold advocates, anti-war voices — all could be smeared with a single stroke.

But unlike past decades, the internet has changed the landscape. Narratives can no longer be shaped in isolation. Patterns are easier to see, connections easier to make. The same institutions that once controlled the flow of information now struggle to contain it. People are asking questions faster than authorities can supply the answers.

If such an event occurs — and I believe it might — I suspect the intended effect will fail. Not because the perpetrators won’t be frightening or the media won’t amplify the panic, but because the public is no longer as unthinking as it once was. The spell of blind obedience has worn thin. Fear may still grip some, but too many now recognize the pattern — the cycle of crisis, control, and conformity.

The tragedy, if it comes, will be real. But I don’t believe it will achieve what those in power hope. Instead, it may only confirm what many already suspect — that the system cannot survive without manufacturing its own justification. And when that becomes clear, the final illusion of legitimacy may fall away altogether.