The Lash

We fear the beast. It has dominated our lives and displays its fearsome arms in the form of the terror of warfare and police violence.

The roar of its burning and the heat of its fire is beginning to broil the masses who are all part of the shovel brigade.

No bayonets are poking us into this effort. we compel ourselves to divert our resources into feeding the rape of this world by the sweet sirens’ song of seduction as we wrap ourselves in layers of deceit. The houses we don’t own anymore, the new vehicles we don’t own, that substitute for our egos, the intervenious TV tap every night to quell our questions and reason to a growing darkness and squeezing economic rat race to the bottom, all contribute to the programing that tells you at every level it’s your privilege to grab that shovel harder.

If one is serious about survival, one should seriously consider with drawing your support of every blood sucking tap root which we have had so sweetly attached to our time and labor. It’s all about demanding dignity in the face of the laugh track billboard society.

We can kill this evil and rout the enemy, sulking back into the dark corners of their wretched miserable depraved lives.

By withdrawing our labor into feeding this monstrosity we have been told to love and serve as it cooks all of us in perhaps a nuclear furnace.

With drawing any holdings in such banks as Chase and B of A.

Do it now. Pull every cent out and put it into a credit union, if at all possible.