Barbara H. Peterson
Farm Wars
Can you feel it? Can you feel the chains encircling the world as you know it, causing it to shrink into a passing wisp of memory as we drift closer and closer each day into a homogeneous goo of anonymity in which nothing is wrong and nothing is right unless we are told it is by the state, and anything goes except for what is honest and true and valid?
We are instructed in the ways in which we must act, react and recover. State-approved responses in a state-generated manual. And we comply. We comply because that is what we have been taught all of our lives. We know no differently. The ones who remembered and shared their stories are long past gone, and we do not mourn their loss. We are the new generation of enlightened, politically correct citizens of corporate USA. Why? Because that is simply what it is.
We have a set of laws; an instruction manual. Statute and Code. We are expected to know them. ‘Ignorance of the law is no excuse.’ Yet, it is impossible to know each and every regulation within the law, and therefore, impossible to know if/when, at any given moment we are in violation. Especially when the rules change. Even the ones that you thought you knew yesterday are different today. So there you are. Wanting to be an obedient citizen, and because you do not know the unknowable, that does not relieve you of the responsibility to do so. That is your job. Your duty towards the corporate state.
And if you are in, you are in. No turning back. Once the gates close, you, my friend, are property of the state. Owned. Your life lies firmly in the hands of those put in place to ensure conformity to the rules. When the whistle blows, you hop to. When the sergeant barks a command, you run to obey. If you are called to place yourself in the line of fire, you do not hesitate.
And if something goes horribly wrong? It is your responsibility. Did you follow the rules? Every last one? Did they change while you were catching that round? Deep down, you know how this goes. You are on the bottom of the priority list. If someone is going to go down for any acts in violation of the rules it is going to be you. That’s a given. Unless you claw your way up the chain of command into a position of authority over another. Then guess who gets the short end of the stick? Pitted against each other like a cock fight. May the best man win. The culling of the herd.
You eat when told, bath when told, sleep when told, and give your life when told. Dissent is punishable by immediate banishment. Out in the cold you go, devoid of a base on which to stand. The ground ripped out from under you.
So you need a network of trust to keep from being chewed alive and spit out like last night’s chaw. And you march together to the beat of a silent, but deep bond of survival. Survival in a system that churns and burns toy soldiers all saluting in a row.
There is a thin line that keeps you balanced between what you’ve been told is real and what is real, commonly referred to as sanity. And you hold on for dear life because that is all you know how to do.
You survive while the world around you crashes into a state of chaos. You reach out desperately to grasp hold of anything that you can to stay afloat. And you find that the only thing remaining constant is truth.
When all is said and done; when all the control games have been played; when all those ‘in charge’ have been exposed for what they truly are and the only thing left is a wet spot where they once cowered in fear, what remains is the truth. The last man standing. Then another. And another. Until a bond is formed that cannot be broken. A bond that will dissolve the fetters of enslavement. A bond that will truly set us free. The only way out of the maze of confusion, doubt and tyranny of ignorance.
One word.
TRUTH.
©2016 Barbara H. Peterson