Our Human Reserve

D’s response to a friend’s constant request to “shake the fist at the establisment.”:

We have very similiar points of view on many things political.
I have learned and advocated many of the same things you have
made clear to me.  We have worked together with the radio on
through many administrations and war.  What you say about
economics is right as far as most anyone can see it.  I am 
proud of your stance on taxes a la the “Freemen” movement and
your personal interests in defining employment on your own terms.
You have always been an inspiration for me when it comes to 
examples of making a living and doing what needs to be done.

Whether we are liberal-minded conservatives, or conservative liberals -
whatever we would be called - I think we are of the same ilk.

I have come to think of myself as more of a Existential Activist:
someone that demands movement to be towards a fuller sense 
of being alive.  I need to leave behind some of my original
political leanings as purely political and having nothing to do
with living a human existence….
Money, finance,economy, taxes, wages, IRS, gold, silver, credit…etc.
are losing any real relevance for me in how I am to be an American.
One is either rich or poor, freeman or slave.  Today I saw a commercial
where each man and woman walked through their lives carrying under
their arms a number -  that number was their networth!

There are going to be events that will seem to be fueled by oppression,
poverty and race, but they are only to be explained as man not having
what he wants/needs…based on his access to resources/bank.

What is happening is that the lowest common denominator is money.
Not peace/ love/happiness/safety/art/health/energy/ faith/honor/grief
/pain/fear/hate/life or death….but a number… an absolutely arbitrary
man-made, self-eflecting, abstract, meaningless symbol.
And it causes war and famine, pestilence and death.
Not because it can but because we let it be the reason.
We are money now.  And if the FederalReserve/Illuminati/gods
make it,  move it and take it away.. then we  have sold our souls/bodies
to a bunch of thoughtless swinging-ball sacks, who blow farts through golden
flutes, while they try to “get it up” to muzak-tracked pornographic commercials,
before buffet tables stacked high with african black flesh steak sandwiches,
and blood wine.
The people you can touch and smell and see and speak to, are the real ones.
What you have in your hands is what you own.  
But if its represented by a number, or, made-to-happen with an electric-button, or appears in black ink…its bullshit.             And its a game that has to end, not just on game night.
Tonight.  I want to smell it. And it ought to be able to feel pain when I
inflict it.

D f B