Well, here we go again. A new state of emergency has been declared—this time for bird flu. Just in time for 2025. And yes, it’s coming straight out of my home state of California. Governor Newsom is back in the spotlight, and the news is buzzing all over Twitter.
So I have to ask: Will people fall for it? Hook, line, and sinker like they did in 2020? Will fear reign supreme, or will people finally take a step back and look at this rationally?
This feels like déjà vu. Full circle back to 2020—when I posted my very first video on YouTube. If you’ve been with me that long, you’ll remember it. I called out the illogical, illegitimate, illegal, and downright absurd state of emergency that was declared back then. That video? It went viral. Two million views. Then—poof—taken down.
In that video (which lives on over on Bitchute), I deciphered California’s emergency laws, and today, I’m going to do the same. Why? Because you need to know the emergency laws in your state.
But first, here is the tyrant-in-chief’s (illegitimate) Proclamation of a State of Emergency on the Governor’s website here.
What you see below is a new release based on the emergency declaration.
Newsom says he’s calling for one in advance? How clever. How illegal. Because, guess what? The law doesn’t say you can just declare an emergency before there’s an actual emergency. Nice try, though. But that's not how it works.
Translation: flu-mongering.
Before we dive in, let’s take a detour through Civics 101: How Emergency Powers Are Declared… and Abused.
Every state has laws passed by its legislature that grant emergency powers to the governor.
Every state is different. Different laws, different rules, different legislatures.
Now, when it comes to emergency powers, here’s what you need to know: these powers are limited. Limited in scope, limited in duration.
Repeat after me: A governor cannot make a law.
I’ll say it again just for good measure: a governor cannot make a law. Neither can a mayor, a sheriff, a judge (ideally), or—brace yourselves—the Trader Joe’s grocery clerk. Laws come from the legislature.
So what are these “emergency powers,” and how do they work?
Let’s use California as our shining example—because, trust me, I know this law inside and out, thanks to my lawsuit against Orange County for their unlawful state of emergency for covid cooties. Under state law, a state of emergency can only be declared when there’s a disaster or imminent catastrophe—something like a fire, flood, earthquake, or other large-scale event that the state alone can’t handle. The disaster has to be so massive that it requires outside resources—federal help, other states stepping in, and so on.
Remember back in 2020? That’s how states like California and New York brought in healthcare workers from out of state—workers who, due to emergency laws, were allowed to practice medicine without being licensed locally. These laws also shielded them with immunity, meaning if certain “treatments” didn’t go well (I’m being polite here), they couldn’t be held liable.
Now, emergency declarations aren’t limited to states—counties and cities can declare local emergencies, too. Let’s say there’s a massive chemical spill in Orange County. That county (and even the affected city) can declare an emergency and take actions like shutting down certain areas, because at the local level, there’s a legitimate crisis requiring immediate measures.
But here’s the key: local emergencies are temporary. They only last seven days (at least in California). After that, the legislative body (like the county board of supervisors) has to meet, provide evidence, and decide whether to extend or terminate the emergency.
The very nature of an emergency is temporary. Emergencies are meant to be short-lived, not indefinite lifestyle choices for politicians who enjoy tyranny.
Think of it this way: if your house is on fire, you don’t just keep the firefighters hanging around forever because you liked the look of the big red truck in your driveway. They spray the water, put out the fire, and head off to the next call. That’s how emergencies are supposed to work—address the crisis, then wrap it up. If they linger, it’s no longer about saving the house; it’s about squatting on your property.
Yet, here we are, watching states milk “emergencies” for all they’re worth—years later, no flames, no evidence, but plenty of public serpents still holding the hose and saying, “Just in case!” (Note the word: milk, as this emergency hogwash will likely result in more restrictions on dairy cows, since now apparently cows get the bird flu. Makes perfect sense!)
Let’s use Orange County, California as Exhibit A. Did you know Orange County is still under a COVID emergency? Yep. Five years later. Did the board ever hold a meeting to prove a continuing emergency? No. Did they terminate it like they were supposed to? Also no. The very nature of an emergency is that it’s immediate and short-term. Sure, there’s a recovery period after a crisis—but that’s not the same as a current emergency.
When a county declares a local emergency, they can request help from neighboring counties. “Hey, can you send us your firefighters? Your police? Your nurses, teachers, ventilators, gurneys, etc.” — or whatever they are in need of…
Now, let me pull back the curtain and show you their modus operandi. I attended these county meetings, and here’s how the scam worked: Officials claimed they were running out of hospital beds in Orange County, so patients had to be transferred to nearby counties. Why? Because transferring patients to another county conveniently legitimized the so-called emergency. Remember, under emergency law, an emergency only exists if the county itself doesn’t have the resources to handle the situation.
And here’s the kicker: the hospitals weren’t full. I spoke personally to the director of critical care at Hoag Hospital in Newport Beach, who told me personally that the hospital had shut down several floors.
They designated one single floor as the “COVID wing,” and—surprise, surprise—that wing was full. The rest of the hospital? Empty. But when you only look at one “overrun” COVID wing, it sounds like a crisis, right? It’s smoke and mirrors.
The transfer wasn’t necessary. The hospital beds were there. The workers were there. The resources were there. But by faking scarcity—by claiming the hospitals were “overrun”—they manufactured a crisis to legitimize their so-called “emergency.”
Why do this? Simple: money… and power. Declaring an emergency opened the floodgates for funding, which mysteriously trickled into all the wrong pockets. (Side note: if you haven’t been keeping up, the FBI has been sniffing around, and one public serpent is already set to be sentenced in March. I’ve done a whole series exposing the corruption of Dirty Dough and his band of dodo birds.) These fake emergencies also expand the government’s control over your daily life.
So, in 2020 counties all across the state echoed the same script. “We’re in an emergency! We’re out of beds! We’re overwhelmed!” And what happens when every county suddenly cries “emergency”? It flips the switch for the governor to declare a statewide emergency. The reasoning? “The crisis is too big, too catastrophic—we need outside help!”
See how the game works? Manufacture scarcity, spin a narrative, and voilà—emergency powers unlocked.
So let’s take that same playbook and apply it to the bird flu. Ask yourself: is there really a legitimate state of emergency in California? Or are we watching a rerun of the same tired playbook?
Okay, back to the news about the “pro-active” state of emergency we didn’t ask for:
Turns out that bird flu has somehow spread to dairy cows in Southern California. Wait, what? Cows flying now? Is this where we’re going? How do we even know this happened? How were these cases exactly detected in these cows?
Were the cows sneezing? Flapping wings? Laying eggs? What’s the test for bird flu, exactly?
Let’s take a moment and look up the symptoms of avian flu, shall we? Before I reveal them, take a guess—do you think they’ll be unique?
Or maybe, just maybe, the symptoms of avian flu are identical to, I don’t know…
…regular flu symptoms?
Or perhaps they’re the same as COVID-19, because that’s convenient, right?
Symptoms of avian flu:
Oh, look! It’s basically the same as the regular flu.
And the treatment? Oh, it's also the same!
So let me ask: if the symptoms and treatment are essentially the same, what’s the actual difference? Why are we even calling it avian flu and making it sound like a bigger deal than it is?
If it’s similar, how is this possibly an emergency?
And whose art project did they “find” this image from?
Seriously, whose lab notebook from the NIAID did they confiscate for this one? Honestly, that’s some impressive doodling. I remember sketching microscope images like that in high school biology class, but I didn't think they’d end up in the official government reports.
So I would like to know how these “avian flu” cases were detected, who detected them, why they detected them, and how do we know we can even rely on that? I wanted to know what the test is for bird flu, not just the name, but the mechanism. You know, like, how do they actually test for this, and—oh yeah—how do they falsify it to make sure the results match the narrative? We’ll dive into the testing surveillance state in a future substack, but for now can we just pause for a moment and consider whose full-time job is it to just wander around swabbing birds all day? Is the USDA incentivizing farmers to subject their birds and cows to routine testing?
Here's my next question: if there's no person-to-person spread in California, why the emergency? There hasn’t even been a single fatality, just good ole government approved “confirmed cases.”
Oh, silly me. What a ridiculous question. Obviously, if no one has the flu, it's an emergency! A national emergency!
Everyone stay home, lock your doors, slap on the suffocation device, close your business, get your kids out of school (for their own safety, of course), and for heaven's sake, start disinfecting like it's a hobby! Grab the gloves, break out the Clorox…
Isn't it just delightful how eager the government is to swing open the door to emergency powers, bending laws under the guise of needing to "respond quickly" to an outbreak that hasn’t even materialized yet?
Now, in Newsom’s brilliant statement, he also mentions giving Californians access to “accurate, up-to-date information.” Because, normally (in non-emergency times), we don’t get accurate, up-to-date information… nope. Only in an emergency.
Here’s the little summary they give for Bird flu in the U.S.:
Are they seriously testing random birds? Were the birds even dead when they grabbed them? How exactly did they test them, and what was the test actually for? These are all questions that the CDC and the FDA conveniently leave unanswered.
So, who's conducting the testing for this bird flu outbreak? Which agencies are involved, and hey, do you think "Granny Gates" might be getting a piece of the action? Wouldn't surprise me. And let’s not forget Bobby Kennedy—he’s all for more testing. So, who’s raking in the funds for this testing and monitoring, and where is all this money coming from?
I also want to nitpick Newsom’s phrase: “We will continue to take all necessary steps to prevent the spread of the virus.”
Now, the word necessary is actually in the California Health and Safety Code, which gives health officers the authority to take any action deemed “necessary” to protect public health. What does that really mean? Well, it could give them the power to control your body—whether you’re alive or dead—and subject you to testing or medical interventions you don’t consent to. How do you like them apples?
Now, I don’t want to sound like a fear monger or a “flu monger” like Newsom, but we do need to focus on the word necessary. Most people get hung up on the word all, like Newsom’s statement, “we will continue to take all necessary steps…” But the real question is: What does necessary even mean? Is it really necessary to test people like cattle, to cull populations, or to spread fear through the media? Newsom would argue, “Yes!” Because how else can the government control you if they’re not fueling fear?
If necessary can mean shutting down the entire state, limiting freedoms, and stripping away livelihood, then what’s next? Are we really going to keep using that word to control people’s lives, make sweeping decisions that have lasting effects, and infringe on our God given rights?
The problem with that word is it’s subjective. What one person sees as necessary might not feel like a necessity to someone else. And that’s the danger—when government and unelected bureaucrats (like these health officers) decide what’s necessary for you.
California’s already mobilized ready to go. Millions of pieces of PPE—remember that term from back in 2020? PPE—Personal Protective Equipment—sounds like it’s supposed to protect you, right? But instead, they told us it was to protect others. Maybe we should start calling it OPE: Others’ Protective Equipment instead. You see, the devil's in the details. We need to read between the lines and dig deeper to see what's really going on
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