rebel1776
June 9th, 2009, 10:14 pm
As I watch the maniacal destruction of the greatest nation in the world, I find it difficult to keep a stiff upper lip, as my Anglican ancestors would say. The free market has been infested by government gremlins armed with policies that closely resemble large sledgehammers. The public, who support these enterprises, are placidly watching MSNBC as their freedoms are incarcerated, one by one.
They are fed daily post-hypnotic suggestions telling them that all is well. Those who contradict this are branded naysayers and exclusionists. Instead of issuing the battle cry of the American warrior, Joe and Jane Public nourish their enslavement with their own peppered skepticism.
Yet the threat is real. The government has become a ravenous monster salivating over its banquet of delicacies, wondering which it should devour first. "Garcon, I enjoyed the capitalism appetizer. Can you recommend a good wine to go with the Second Amendment?"
Yet We the People should not complain. Have you not heard? This is the age of the New Camelot. Gilded castles sit atop silver mounds. Golden coins litter the banks of champagne rivers. If the rain should wash them away, the lord of Camelot need only wave his hands and more coins will rain from the heavens. Encircling the city, keeping it safe from those who would destroy it, is a wall. And We the People stand outside of it, working the fields that feed the lord and all those who serve and worship him. Our hands are bloodied, our fields are decimated and our daily bread is reduced to crust. But we are all equal in our misery, aren’t we?
Through the cracks in the fortress walls (and there are many), We the People witness the orchestration of our demise. For there he is, the master of the realm, seated on a throne of styrofoam, feasting on trans fats and the bones of rational thought. At his feet are masses of mindless minions who await their elevation to greatness in exchange for their loyalty. They smile in exaltation as they rip the flesh from each other, fighting for the scraps off his table. After the meal, they cry for the master to drag We the People from outside the wall, so he may whip us for their pleasure. And he will indulge their bloodlust, if only to distract them from their own subjugation.
And We the People will stay on the outside of the wall, rationing our paltry morsels until that blessed day in November when we lift our voices in one glorious cry, sending the master into the hallowed halls of history where he will be judged for all eternity. For we know that Camelot is an illusion. It is not our salvation but a blight upon our land. We know that the champagne in the river is toxic, meant to render us blind to the fact that the gold is merely disks of painted tin.
We will look at our ravaged land with hope and remember the days when it was green and fertile. We will praise the calluses that grew on our hands when we worked it and praise God that we still have hands to work it with. Stories will be told, of other lords, who through ignorance or intent, tried to destroy the realm, and failed. We will toast the wise men who stripped off our blinders. We will exalt the heroes who fought for our freedom, both living and dead, singing songs to their bravery and intellect. All the while, the elders will hold hands with the young ones and teach them the incantations that were designed by the ancients to keep the tyrants at bay:
We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defence, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity...
They are fed daily post-hypnotic suggestions telling them that all is well. Those who contradict this are branded naysayers and exclusionists. Instead of issuing the battle cry of the American warrior, Joe and Jane Public nourish their enslavement with their own peppered skepticism.
Yet the threat is real. The government has become a ravenous monster salivating over its banquet of delicacies, wondering which it should devour first. "Garcon, I enjoyed the capitalism appetizer. Can you recommend a good wine to go with the Second Amendment?"
Yet We the People should not complain. Have you not heard? This is the age of the New Camelot. Gilded castles sit atop silver mounds. Golden coins litter the banks of champagne rivers. If the rain should wash them away, the lord of Camelot need only wave his hands and more coins will rain from the heavens. Encircling the city, keeping it safe from those who would destroy it, is a wall. And We the People stand outside of it, working the fields that feed the lord and all those who serve and worship him. Our hands are bloodied, our fields are decimated and our daily bread is reduced to crust. But we are all equal in our misery, aren’t we?
Through the cracks in the fortress walls (and there are many), We the People witness the orchestration of our demise. For there he is, the master of the realm, seated on a throne of styrofoam, feasting on trans fats and the bones of rational thought. At his feet are masses of mindless minions who await their elevation to greatness in exchange for their loyalty. They smile in exaltation as they rip the flesh from each other, fighting for the scraps off his table. After the meal, they cry for the master to drag We the People from outside the wall, so he may whip us for their pleasure. And he will indulge their bloodlust, if only to distract them from their own subjugation.
And We the People will stay on the outside of the wall, rationing our paltry morsels until that blessed day in November when we lift our voices in one glorious cry, sending the master into the hallowed halls of history where he will be judged for all eternity. For we know that Camelot is an illusion. It is not our salvation but a blight upon our land. We know that the champagne in the river is toxic, meant to render us blind to the fact that the gold is merely disks of painted tin.
We will look at our ravaged land with hope and remember the days when it was green and fertile. We will praise the calluses that grew on our hands when we worked it and praise God that we still have hands to work it with. Stories will be told, of other lords, who through ignorance or intent, tried to destroy the realm, and failed. We will toast the wise men who stripped off our blinders. We will exalt the heroes who fought for our freedom, both living and dead, singing songs to their bravery and intellect. All the while, the elders will hold hands with the young ones and teach them the incantations that were designed by the ancients to keep the tyrants at bay:
We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defence, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity...