It used to be that a barking dog signaled that something was wrong – these days: a barking dog is just the accompaniment to the jitter-bugging staccato of cellphone texts and white-noise background of television streaming.
There’s no need for an attention span; because nothing receives your full attention.
Maybe it’s barking to be let in — maybe it’s barking because . . .
You could imagine – but there are probably some out there already. It makes some sense: HOAs profit the commonality – while government profits the elite.
As we slide down the un-leveled field towards the abattoir in our future – glimmers of the truth shine through the coarse mesh of deception we’re enveloped in. We don’t decide the path; we just obey the rider . . . and the spurs.
When you’re consumed with surviving — today is enough.
It’s not over – it’s just beginning. But who are the victims? The elderly are disposables; so they can’t be considered as victims. The unreported victims of the Pandemic that are our freedoms – the freedom to choose – the freedom to decide – the freedom to be different.
Hearing lawyers talking about tossing out contracts due to COVID [we used to be told that contract law was the basis of our law] – they used the phrase: “somebody has to take the hit” — how far is this from our beliefs of human worth and freedom?
Somebody takes the hit so you can benefit – then you take the hit so they can benefit – and in the end; we all take the hit so those on top can benefit — because they can.
While we were on the COVID Carousel; they moved the exit – and we got off a few doors closer to Dictatorship. It’s said that the trick is to make even the stupidest dogs jump through the hoop — that’s why they use whips.
You feel it, don’t you? The need to do something against a coming catastrophe – something you should already have done.
Like a wild animal sensing danger; but not knowing what it is – or which direction it’s coming from — high alert: tiring over time – so tired. . .
It’s as if the world is dribbling out between your fingers – and you can’t hold on to your dreams of building – of achieving. Maybe you’re not using the right measure of success – and maybe that’s not an accident.
In the 1960s: people were taking action to achieve a society of human worth – until the scaffolding began to be kicked apart underneath us; and we grabbed ahold of anything to survive.
Maybe everything that we’re now being told is important; is important to the profit of those who do the telling.
If you could live in a community where you did not fear your neighbor, where you could do things that you thought were worthwhile and at the same time realize who you could be, where people would band together to help those in need of help, and nobody would need to be alone — what more would you want? What accumulation of “things” would you need?
For the people who want to control us — that’s the scariest future of all.
As rural America dies – a strange new society emerges from the carcass: Government Modified Organizations [GMOs] have ushered in a cycle of drugs and dissolution to replace the old neighborliness and caring that existed – Creating a community with all the death and despair of the urban poor — but with none of the hope. In rural America no one can hear you scream.
The rural paradigm is no longer centered around places that help others – it’s centered around places that help you — just like everywhere else.
Talk about a “fusion” – and if not a popular creation; these unhealthy servings will be ladled out world-wide in the coming decades. The high ground of today will be the beach front of the future; but what will the property tax be like? — and the insurance!
There is no place too small and no one too poor to escape today’s frenzy of taking and using. In fact: the downtrodden and defenseless are the first targets of corrupt officials and their cronies – taking without restraint, and using their clout to skim the cream off any remediation or development.
One of the takers referred to my book: “Tompkins County and Tammany Hall” as a “lamentation” with a mocking smile. It’s an indictment — and the day of Rural Justice will bring a smile to the oppressed.