Confiscate

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 funny wisdom on words that begin with a Cbecome 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.

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Cigarette

Cigarette: (n) a thin cylinder of finely cut tobacco rolled in paper for smoking.

If you live long enough you will see nearly everything in your life go through the natural Earth cycle.

It begins with “interesting.”

Then it becomes “cool.”

It passes through a phase of being “plagued with some difficulty.”

Following that comes “seems dangerous.”

And of course, the final step is “lethal.”

It doesn’t matter what you’re talking about. Why don’t we take something that would seem unlikely to apply to this category–like politics?

When the idea of starting a democracy in the New World was tossed on the table for discussion, it was deemed very interesting–so much so that we wrote several documents and put together a club.

After the club got together for a few meetings over some “brews and snuff,” we were enamored with the possibility–just jazzed with its coolness.

So we started political parties. The consensus was there should be at least two so there could be discussion. But immediately each party desired to be the predominant one, which led to some nasty exchanges, false accusations, and the introduction of cheating. Election after election began to prove out that winning was more important than truth, justice and the American Way. Difficulty arrived like a “plague of congress.”

So laws had to be passed because we were in danger of losing the freedom we had hoped to achieve because we allowed the politics to steer policy.

And then, all at once, with one cracky voice, the people proclaimed, “Politics is damn lethal.”

I bring this up because the same thing happened in my lifetime–and yours–with cigarettes.

At first they were interesting. Then cool. Next, plagued with some difficulty, proclaimed dangerous, and now seen as a nasty piece of our social sappiness, murdering people with tar and nicotine.

I often wonder if it’s possible to stop, while musing over something being interesting–and jump ahead to find out if it’s deadly.

 

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Bungee Jumping

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Bungee jumping: (n) the sport of leaping from a height while secured by a long nylon-cased rubber band from the ankles

Two.

I only need two reasons to chase me away from doing something.

Three.

Generally speaking, I have to have three reasons to proceed.

You may think I’m overly cautious, but it has prevented me from pursuing trends, fads and “hip stuff” which was later proven to be either erratic or deadly.

So when I see the word, or phrase in this case, “bungee jumping,” I put this idea into practice.

I start looking for the two reasons not to do it. And just to be fair, I search for the three reasons to pursue it.

Let’s look at the three reasons I might want to take a flying leap:

  1. To impress people with my courage
  2. To see firsthand how strong these bungee cords really are
  3. Gee whiz–forgive me. I’ve run out of positive reasons.

Now, let’s look at the things that might prevent me from strapping on:

  1. I have a rubber band tied to my feet. Now, I personally have viewed a little girl putting her pony tail together, applying a rubber band and seeing it break in her hands. Here’s my thought: if a little girl can break a rubber band in her hand, they may not be reliable, no matter how thick and sturdy they appear.
  2. This was difficult, because ten different objections wanted to take the second position.  But after careful consideration, I decided on:

Bungee jumping is head-first.

So not only are you relying on a rubber band to sustain your weight from what would have to be considered a fatal fall, but if it doesn’t, you’ve decided to confirm that your brains are bashed in first.

There are some folks who think they are superior because they’re daredevils.

But keep in mind … at least half of the word “daredevil” is a reference to Satan.

 

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