Exciting times are just beyond the bend for this country. As we gaze into the future, the lapping of the water at our feet is more agitated than usual, the waves subtly more insistent. Occasionally we hear an unfamiliar sound, a microcrash of waves or a strange cry from an unknown bird. We see unseasonable migrations and we sense that the ground beneath our feet is moving, catlike.
Most have not yet noticed the profound urgency of what is upon us, but there exists a sharpness in the air, beyond the new normal of a November morning.
It is difficult to comprehend the massive pent-up force potential of a hundred years of war and state-ordered theft, a hundred years of global nationalism, a hundred years of the voracious passion of the state for the bones and marrow of free-thinking people. Barriers to the state’s inevitable metastasis have begun to fall away, and what was once hidden from view is now partially revealed. The zombification of the United States is upon us. Our generations will witness and experience the transmogrification of something we thought we knew and trusted into a walking-dead centralized horror intent on our personal destruction.
But it’s not all bad.
Humble gratitude and community appreciation prevail in many parts of the country. The nationalization of a "day" for gratitude and community solidarity must of course be suspect. We are told that Thanksgiving traces back to the Pilgrims, but its dedication by the state in midst of a bloody confederation crisis in 1863 was neither humble nor community oriented. It was the "great Union Festival of America."
In that spirit, all week we will hear posers in houses of worship share their gratefulness for soldiers that the American president and his unelected advisors have, for decades, sent around the world to kill, defraud, and steal. Politicians, state historians, and even otherwise honest people will tell us that we are the freest nation on the planet and that we should thank our past and present political classes for this freedom. Some will vaguely recall the official spirit of the first Europeans to North America, and many more will eat, drink and watch football. In carb and tryptophan-induced comas, we will fall asleep and dream.
Here are a few things I will do this week.
I will remember that my liberty exists not because I deserve it, nor because someone else fought for it. My liberty – and that of my children, my grandchildren, and my neighbors – is a birthright from the Creator.