Confiscate: (v) to take or seize someone’s property with authority.
Nasty criminals in the wicked pursuit of evil have made it their business to confiscate our country.
The ransom note has been received. We are being held hostage.
The request is simple–a demand that you and I submit to the New Order and surrender any notions of brotherhood, common good and doing what we should.
They threaten to tear apart our property, our lives and our dreams.
They are convinced that years of toleration, understanding, adjustment and patience have brought us to a place where we have lost our domination and have just become part of Earth’s typography.
They are angry.
They are certain of their cause.
They are committed to restoring a former time, which, in its era, was proven to be ineffective and even deadly.
They have a knife to our throat, alternating with a gun to our head, interchanging all of that with a mocking laugh of anything suggesting mutuality or agreement.
We are temporarily stalled by a kidnapping of kindness and a promotion of crudeness.
Should we pay the ransom?
And if the ransom is paid, will we get our country back? Or just what’s left of it?
Perhaps we should take a moment and realize that even though these forces did confiscate our lives, we certainly were more than willing to give up–because of our bigotry and anger.
Can we rescue ourselves from ourselves?
It’s a damn good question.
Fortunately–or perhaps unfortunately–we will all be around to hear the answer.
(click the elephant to see what he’s reading!)