Posted on 04/07/2016 9:24:10 AM PDT by blueunicorn6
You must forgive me.
It is hard for me to write.
You see, I am a slave, and my chains make it hard for me to write.
You ask,
"How did such a big, strong man come to be a slave in this the land of the free?"
There was no frantic flight followed by a dozen men holding me down.
My Masters slipped my chains on me without a struggle. It was quite easy for them.
"You should help your neighbor! Don't you want to help your neighbor? Have you no sympathy?", my Masters said to me.
I blushed with shame and reached out my hand to help the people my Masters told me I should help.
This was how they conditioned me to do their bidding. It was simple, at first. Just reach out my hand to help.
But this was not an exchange between two people. There was me, the helper, and there was the person being helped, but there were also my Masters.
My Masters were controlling me and the person I was helping. They were telling me what I must do. My Masters were commanding me.
My Masters then convinced me that they could make my job of helping easier. They would give me tools to make me a better helper.
They took money from me. They created huge bureaucracies to help the helpers. They created laws.
"These ropes are merely to help you be a better helper!", my Masters told me as they put ropes on me.
And, of course, they took a little, just a smidge, of my money because they were helping me to be a better helper.
"Ropes are expensive!", reminded my Masters.
My Masters saw that they received money from me when they commanded me to help my neighbor.
They realized that they could take even more of my money if they forced me to help people beyond my neighbors. Their teeny, tiny smidgen of money they took from me could be larger.
So they took more of my money. The money I earned by my efforts. They took it.
I let them put chains on me because they said that the chains would make it easier for me to help others.
It also made it easier for them to control me and take my money. It seems that the control was more important to them than even my money.
The people I was helping?
They seem to need more help. They scream if I tug at my chains. My Masters don't seem to be able to help them.
But now I am a slave.
I am a slave to the Democrats.
And so I came to wear my chains.
Well done.
Exactly how I feel. Well done.
btt
You're half right.
Dems pulling a Trump. I will build an insurmountable electoral majority and make you stupid producers pay for it.
Bwahahhahahah.
| Fine thoughts. The path to tyranny is paved with good intentions and minor losses of freedom that eventually destroy the courageous and self-reliant spirit of man and make him a slave to his "benevolent" masters. I wrote a vanity that includes a personal account from Communist China of what tyranny felt like: |
It’s called corporatism. Ask for benefits, subject yourself to administrative law. Oh? You don’t have a social security number? Yes, you do. Stop bitching.
This is good. May I copy it and make handouts?
Yes.
I read that account of life in China.
It should be required reading at the universities.
“All art must support the revolution!”
My Freshman English instructor at a mid-western University said that.
| Thanks. And yes, I agree: my daughter also went to a liberal arts college and received the same Bernie-style indoctrination. Many young people are keen about a "sustainable" natural environment. I think if they could be made to see that the manner in which wealth is created through free market forces is also a natural, organic system, then they would be less enthralled with utopian lies. You might also get a chuckle from the pictures posted on my pictorial: Luxury Trump Train vs. the Bernie LOCOmotive to Economic Hell. |
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