(LifeSiteNews) - A deadly virus has decimated much of the human population, every baby born is now part animal, and surviving humans live in such fear of contagion that they will strap to a chair and burn alive anyone who shows symptoms of the deadly virus.
This is the backdrop for the Netflix series Sweet Tooth. The title seems a deliberate misnomer to highlight, by contrast, the darkness of the story it names. And indeed, the original 2009 DC comic book series Sweet Tooth, upon which it is based, is depressingly bleak.
While the Netflix series keeps the dark undertones of a post-apocalyptic world, it has enormously brightened the story, in part cosmetically, with beautiful settings of forests and sunlit fields. But the show's real sweetness comes from the charm of the main character, Gus, a human-deer hybrid boy only identifiable as such by his ears and antlers. He embodies innocent boyhood so endearingly that you want to adopt him as your own.
Watching the show, it is easy to see why it became the most popular series on Netflix upon its release in June. It isn't just that our post-COVID-19 world can eerily relate to the face masking and the fear of contagion among the show's human characters. It's also because the show pulls at your heartstrings with lovable characters and relationships that feel real and relatable.
But the innocence and lovability of Gus, the viewer quickly finds, is exploited to convey the show's sinister underlying message.
The viewer is primed for this message at the very beginning of the show, as the pandemic outbreak unfolds. As the show's narrator puts it: "As the world slipped into chaos, something else was happening. Something extraordinary."
The word "extraordinary" attempts to put a positive spin on something most people would consider deeply disturbing: the birth of human-animal hybrids to human couples, mysteriously coinciding with the virus outbreak.
"No one knew which came first. The virus, or the hybrids. But that question would become the biggest mystery of our lifetime," says the narrator.
After glimpses of the fiery chaos of the virus outbreak, the show cuts to where little Gus lives with his father in the woods, tucked away from civilization. While Gus has little deer ears and antler buds, he looks and behaves like a little human boy in every other way, and on top of that, he is exceptionally cute.
It doesn't take long for the show to flash its dark underbelly, just after you, the viewer, have had your heart warmed with scenes showcasing little Gus's charm.
Not long into the first episode, Gus's father - who is by all appearances a respectable man who loves Gus dearly - explains to Gus how and why the world changed during the pandemic.
He presents Gus with an apple in a jar. When Gus looks closely at it, he can see ants crawling about in the jar, to devour the apple.
"Once upon a time, bad people ruled the earth," Gus's father tells him, with contempt in his voice. "Doing what they wanted, taking from the planet. Just like those ants. They were greedy things. Self-destructive. Only out for themselves. So nature made everyone sick. And wiped away as many as she could."
Then, his tone brightens: "And then a miracle happened. Your kind. They called them hybrids. No one knows where you came from or how. But the people who were left feared you. They were meaner now, angrier. They didn't like you because you were different."
Here is a double whammy of a message, with implications that are so sinister because they have real-world counterparts.
The first message - one that has been oft-repeated in Hollywood - is that because humans are bad and destroy the planet, they are deservedly dead. The second is that these human animal hybrids are their rightful replacement, and that they are not merely as good as humans, but better than humans, as the show will later explain.
"Engineering Consent" to Depopulation?
In the amazing maneuver that is television's specialty, the viewer is led to accept unthinkingly this genocidal, anti-human worldview by hypnosis, experimental medicine made to go down smoother with administration by sympathetic characters. The propaganda is all the more insidious because the characters are so likable.
For those skeptical that a show like Sweet Tooth is propaganda, it should be noted that the co-founder and first CEO of Netflix, Marc Randolph Bernays, is a great-nephew of Edward Bernays, a pioneering and hugely influential propagandist (literally) for the U.S. government and corporations. Edward Bernays wrote the book Propaganda, arguably the definitive work on the subject.
Edward Bernays, himself the nephew of Sigmund Freud, exercised massive influence over people's beliefs and even behaviors, particularly in the U.S. He won the support of John D. Rockefeller, Jr., the Roosevelts, and Anne Harriman Vanderbilt, wife of William Kissam Vanderbilt, early in his career in fundraising for what he called a "propaganda play that fought for sex education."
Bernays went on to help sell the First World War to Americans living at home and abroad as the war that would "Make the World Safe for Democracy," while working for the U.S. Committee on Public Information. He called this work "psychological warfare."
Afterwards, he applied his techniques in helping to market cigarettes to women - even as he threw his own wife's cigarettes in the trash - and in helping convince Americans that water fluoridation was safe and beneficial. He described the goal of his methods as the "engineering of consent."
These techniques were reportedly admired and emulated by Nazi propagandist Joseph Goebbels.
There is little doubt that Netflix co-founder Marc Randolph Bernays is continuing the legacy of his great uncle, embodied in this quote by Bernays senior:
The conscious and intelligent manipulation of the organized habits and opinions of the masses is an important element in democratic society. Those who manipulate this unseen mechanism of society constitute an invisible government which is the true ruling power of our country. We are governed, our minds are molded, our tastes formed, and our ideas suggested, largely by men we have never heard of.... It is they who pull the wires that control the public mind.
Is Sweet Tooth a way to "engineer consent," as the senior Bernays would have put it, to global depopulation goals?
It is not the only recent T.V. show in which mass death by virus is a running theme. The 2020 series Utopia, which finished filming in October 2019 and was canceled after only one season, reveals in its final episode (spoiler alert) that a mad genius has "created a flu that sparked the demand for a vaccine that doesn't work," in the words of one character who has wised up to his plan. The villain, played by John Cusack, has embedded a virus, in turn, in the vaccine, in order to sterilize people and "stop human reproduction for three generations."
So-called overpopulation has long been a concern of the world's wealthiest people. A 2009 article by the Sunday Times of London shared that the world's most powerful billionaires, including Bill Gates, David Rockefeller Jr., George Soros, Oprah Winfrey met to address "overpopulation," which one meeting attendee described as resulting in "something so nightmarish that everyone in this group agreed it needs big-brain answers."
A year later, Bill Gates declared in a Ted Talk that vaccines would help slow population growth, along with health care and reproductive health services, without explaining how.
As far back as 1988, the late Prince Philip, husband of Queen Elizabeth II of Great Britain, commented to German news agency Deutsche Presse-Agentur, "In the event that I am reincarnated, I would like to return as a deadly virus, to contribute something to solving overpopulation."
Human-Animal Hybrids: Superior Beings?
As Sweet Tooth drives deeper the message that humans are a plague, it shores up the value of the human-animal hybrids. The reasoning behind this is a bit obscure, but the show's pointed messaging, real-world developments, and a public experiment by Netflix lead one to wonder: why?
The show connects the value of the human-animal hybrids to their supposed non-consuming, non-destructive qualities. One extremely likable character of the show, a kind of warrior-princess archetype, explains to Gus about mid-series: "Before the virus, earth was dying. Humans, grown ups, had ruined it. All for their own selfish needs, leaving us with nothing."
"My Pubba said the bad people took everything they wanted," Gus responds.
"Yeah. They did. They still do," she responded. "Did you know that before the virus came, the water wasn't blue? That's because they filled it with trash. The sky too. But once kids like you were born, the earth could start to heal. You can live without taking. You can keep the earth alive. And that's why we vowed to always protect hybrids, no matter what the cost."
Later in the show, another female protagonist says to the master villain regarding the human-animal hybrids: "They're better than us. Better than you or me. They're the good part of us. Without the complications. Nature doesn't want us back. We never gave her a good reason to keep us around in the first place."
In fact, the evil of the show's villains hinges in part upon their hatred of the hybrids. The chief villain believes the hybrids need to be exterminated, that they are "a mutation, a pest."
Netflix went so far as to float a "bird-human baby" in Los Angeles, using a lifelike robot nestled in a stroller as if it were a real baby. The video segment opened with the question: "Is the world ready to welcome hybrids?"
The Netflix representative babytalked with the "waking" hybrid as bystanders caught off-guard gaped in amazement. While the children appeared generally more open-minded, and a few giggled, the contorted expressions of many adults suggested they were aghast.
Then, USA Today, the highest-circulation paper in the U.S., published in its June weekend edition, as an "advertisement" for Sweet Tooth, a fake front cover which read, "Hybrid babies born across the US," with the subheading, "World reacts to new generation of half-human, half animal children with both awe and concern."
It ran completely with the hoax, publishing two fake articles that were written to sound authentic. One read, "When photos of half-human, half-animal babies surfaced on the internet yesterday, most assumed it was an elaborate hoax. But within a few hours, video evidence from various maternity wards around the country became irrefutable. We can now confirm that ‘hybrids' are in fact real."
Why would such a popular and respected newspaper run the risk of being lambasted for deceiving the masses by publishing fake articles, with only small "advertising" lettering at the top to clue-in readers?
It's as if some forces are indeed at work trying to prime the masses for the public introduction of human-animal hybrids, by framing the discussion in their terms, to train you to think of such hybrids not as something monstrous, but as something cute and sweet.
These efforts, to say the least, are falling short. Unfiltered reactions to Netflix's promo tweet for Sweet Tooth (in contrast to the more mixed reactions shown in their LA experiment) were overwhelmingly negative.
"Can we talk about how cute the hybrid babies on Sweet Tooth are for a second??" Netflix tweeted with pictures of several baby "hybrids" depicted in the show, including a beak-nosed "bird baby" baby and a pig-nosed baby.
Responses called it "terrifying" and "nightmarish," and included depictions of wide-eyed horror. As one Twitter user accurately pointed out, the "hybrids" are terrifying "because they are actual monsters." This is the instinctual human response to a such a creature. Many of the monsters of ancient mythology were portrayed as such hybrids.
"Is the world ready to welcome hybrids?" The question is unsettling because you can bet the Bernays-founded propaganda machine that is Netflix would not ask this question if there wasn't an intention to introduce such hybrids.
Indeed, human-animal chimeric research (referring to organisms which contain at least two different kinds of genetically distinct cells) has long been carried out privately worldwide and in the U.S. A little over a month before Sweet Tooth debuted, it was announced that researchers with the Salk Institute in California injected 25 induced pluripotent stem cells (IPS cells) from humans into macaque monkey embryos in a grotesque Frankenstein-like experiment.
Just days before the Sweet Tooth premiere, the International Society for Stem Cell Research released much-anticipated guidelines backing the use of "chimeric embryo and in utero research." Then, just five days after the show began, the U.S. Senate passed a bill allocating billions of dollars to the National Institutes of Health (NIH), while nixing an amendment that would have criminalized certain human-animal hybrids.
While evolutionary "science" attempts to classify humans a "primate" that is not "outside the animal kingdom," but "alongside all animalkind," as the Jane Goodall Institute claims, common sense knows otherwise. Our creative imagination and abilities, capacity for abstract thought, subordination of impulses to free will, and inclination toward the transcendent and its accompanying religious behavior, are nowhere matched in animals.
Animals are ontologically vastly inferior to humans. We live out this belief as a society when we kill animals for eating. An attempt to merge human and animal through the mixture of our DNA is an abomination. Like any other violation of the natural order, which is God's order, it leads to disastrous results.
If such hybridized embryos were somehow able to develop, disturbing and dangerous confusion would ensue. One can imagine the possibility of unduly elevating the rights of "humanized" animals, perhaps at the cost of humans with immortal souls; or of degrading and exploiting beings of mostly human DNA, who were conceived in vitro with the slightest bit of animal DNA, whose possession of human souls would be called into question.
Such confusion, disruption of the natural order, and degradation of human beings are hallmarks of a satanic anti-human and anti-God agenda, one that sadly lurks beneath the "sweet" veneer of this Netflix series.