As I began to question the ideas and the picture that the GOP and the Administration has pulled over my eyes. I had this mental image of what was going on and thought that i would share it with the DK.
It was like some reality where I sat in a chair and in front of me was this painting, of America and what it stood for on principal. After sitting for a while, comfortable, safe, and protected; I started to see cracks in the painting. What I saw on the other side put me into a panic, Government sponsored terrorism, NSA spying of American citizens, searches of our communications, the Patriot Act, a dependent Judiciary, Corporate corruption of our representatives, RFID chips, National ID cards, The north American Union, the Politics of terror, National Health Care crisis, National Debt, Pollution, Global Warming, ect. The list just keeps going!
The funny thing is, as I questioned myself about what I saw, a sexy, big breasted woman would rub up against me, whispering that everything was ok, stroking my arm gently. While on the other side was a GQ style man, way up on a podium in the shape of a Cross, speaking to a crowd. He spoke intelligent, compelling and in clichés. I notice arms, reaching out from behind him stuffing thousands of dollars in his pocket. These hands where hideous, gnarled, mutated and corrupted by the lies, hate, and fear that radiates from the bodies of the creature they connect to.
I had to squirm a little while sitting in my chair because the beautiful blonde at my side was starting to turn me on; it was that anxious, "PLEASE DON'T STOP" squirm that we all enjoy far too much sometimes. I then noticed the crowd was being lead to a cliff where they, eyes glazed over, fall one by one. To my horror, I looked to where they're falling and it was an endless field of bodies, American men, women and children, I started to gag and sputter but the blonde grabbed me harder and started singing, a utopist state of being started to swell over me all the while Mr. GQ started talking louder, more threatening because it wasn't just me that was noticing the cracks in the painting, people were starting to peel off from the crowd.
I saw this and shrugged off double D (which I have to admit was very hard for me to do) and looked at the walls to my right and kicked at them; to my surprise the walls where fake and just props for the men in suits standing behind the painting and the cardboard walls. As I looked around I noticed more and more that the security I thought I had was a gimmick and the room I was in was a set with cameras and TV's placed around printers with people studying printouts.
A small group of people started to gather and raise questions about what is going on with their life, furious that they have been lied to and woke up to late to stop it. Now, I'm with that group and we're demanding answers neigh punishment to those who wronged us. The size of the groups is growing, slowly at first because of the sexy lady and Mr. GQ were laughing as us, mocking us, and spinning our organizing as baseless and lacking fact.
If only the masses would look closer at our guardians, our sexy ladies and Mr. GQs. They would notice the worry in their face, the slight frown in between their bitter, scornful laughs, the desperate shuffle of paper work to find their talking points. Why are they scared of people organizing, exercising the very freedoms that they preach? Isn't that the very question that we all would like to have answered?