Tag Archives: oppression

Faux Oppression

Your revolution ain’t special. These virtual warriors out there sending out tweets, blurbs, and blogs about how they’re oppressed in America. Get real. There isn’t a group of folks within these borders who even knows what oppression feels like outside of being bullied in a classroom or cyber space.
It’ disingenuous to use race, gender, ethnicity or culture as a victim status in America. There is one exception and you don’t hear from them, that’s the working poor. They don’t scream on social media or protest in popular cities. They live life at a shade grayer than the rest of the country.

These are the folks you call when the dealer wants to much for your oil change. These folks cut your grass when the chain landscapers are cutting into your budget. These folks repair those hot water heaters in your 200 square foot garages for the same price the contractor charges for an estimate. These aren’t the folks sittin around waiting for a go fund me miracle or SSI.

The underground economy is alive and well. It’s maintained with debts and promises of nothing more than a dollar or work. Taxes are not collected, just debts. Fees aren’t levied, but it costs to do business everywhere. Penalties are harsh. Failure to pay debts means I loss of something valuable, even life in some cases.

These folks live on their wits. Nice things have a price no matter where there bought or bartered. The working poor in this country don’t go to the hospital or doctor. The kitchen is the ER. These folks don’t have pain insurance to support a pain med addiction. They use alcohol for minor pains, WD 40 for arthritis, and barter with neighbors for left over meds. They don’t care about Obamacare, Americare, or any care. Their only care is feeding the family and gas to work.

Folks who work and hustle to stay afloat don’t care about schools and funding. They send their kids to school as a place of business. Their kids ain’t there to be politicized or philosophized. They send their kids to school to work. They remind their kids that school is a luxury and not a place to be weak or spoiled. It’s not a fashion show or social experiment, it’s the kids job and they better take it seriously.

You don’t hear from these folks and they like it that way. You see poor working folks are free. They take hard times silently and good times graciously. They take good times in stride and count blessings or luck depending on how tough life’s been. We don’t want your interference in our health, our finances, or our kids life. We just want to be left alone.

So the next time you have an election, raise taxes, or try to usurp the countries health leave us be. We’ll be fine using home remedies, selling something of value, and whipping our kids ass when they forget who they are at school.

You can have this faux democratic system that creates dollars and privilege for some. You can have your checks and programs for those folks who live on a hand out. Our county has walls; it’s right where the pavement ends and the dirt begins. You can step in the yard with a warning, but the porch ain’t for folks like you. You’re not welcome within our borders.

We’re steadily looming for a way to be American outside of your corrupt system. We by houses lease to own. We maintain our vehicles ourselves or barter work with a mechanic friend. We recycle things to improve our lives, not because it’s cool. We repurpose things because everything and everyone can have a purpose, we dislike throwing things or folks away. Most importantly we see right through what our government has become, and instead of making excuses because we could benefit from the government; we learnt the lesson that some things just serve no purpose other than serving itself.

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American Man

The echoes of The American Man have been drowned out over the years by barren words and manicured actions of plastic figures that only talk when their strings are pulled. We’ve lost respect for The American Man while he continues to work in silence.

The American Man was born in an uncultivated land where he carved a life out of fertile fields and towering forests. He cut trees, not deals, to build his home. He plowed lands into fields, he had no time to dig dirt to throw on other men’s plot. He wore his “Sunday Best” to honor God and demonstrate his reverence, not everyday as a status symbol covering his excesses.

The American Man was a tool, a weapon, and a machine. Unlike any others he guarded his independence like a family heirloom. The American Man basked in the glow of freedom alert to any shadows between him and his maker. He worked tirelessly for his family and their new found independence and only became a weapon in their defense.

The American Man was an ideal, not a nationality. The American Man was Irish, Moorish, German, etc… He fled the oppression of religion and politics to live free with his God, free of pariahs who lived off the sweat and blood of other men’s efforts.

It didn’t take long for men with lazier continence to form and chip away at his independence. They painted his landscape with banners and stuffed his mouth with creeds that choked his fertile mind with weeds of ignorance. With war comes unity, and this tool stole his emancipation through necessity, and for over 200 years they’ve kept him fighting to protect their interest, to keep him bound to their greed out of fear.

Today we have no lands to discover, there are no continents to occupy. Today we’re headed to another of the many showdowns we’ve witnessed, and participated in over the centuries. The American Man never died because he has no nationality, he has no land, he is freedom. He is not liberty, to have liberty you must be chained, the American Man can’t be chained, he’d sooner die.

The American Man lives across the globe and is aware of the oppression that wealth, greed, and station perpetuate. The American Man is intellectual without education, a weapon without violence, and a tool without limits.

We’ve let weaker men have their paper and promises for too long. These pariahs have appetites that can’t be held by a belt. They will swallow generations and belch lies to make room for your soul. We must stand tall again against oppression. Oppression from within, from plastic men vomiting liquid lies. It won’t come from weapons or violence, these men rely on other men’s muscle; it will come from words and laws that strangle our freedom over time, like the weeds that choke a garden.

Breathing Ashes

Two hearts beat at opposite ends of the earth. One thuds slowly in the heat of the day while another races to sleep on a cold winter night. Human, they share the beat of a different rhythm.

Like minds stretch across continents to join a conversation of cosmic concern. One contemplates the trials of hunger while another struggles with life under fire. Human, they share the trials of life with an empathetic tone and open mind.

We share characteristics and chemicals the transcend borders and flags, but the words between us are garbled in the distance. I see you in plasma and pixels, I hear you in surround sound, but you must be more than an excerpt.

The currency and thick hands that strangle us are illusions, our blood is real, warm, and too precious to dye sidewalks and sand. Hate is the mirage that those crows caw and flap their wings at trying to stir up grit and thermal winds. If we stop for one second and look past their shiny feathers and listen to the silence we can share the wind and warm our souls, rather than scorch the earth.

I know your human, I know outside your temples, mosques, and churches you love me, I’m you, human and flesh. You can’t think of me as a person, then your dogma transgresses humanity. Silence those voices that scream and twist our humanity into a competition for an afterlife that rots in a tomb.

Now is important. You and I together can remove our amamah’s and ties, leave our books on the table, and share a meal to celebrate enlightenment from man and all his fears or greed. No one has, nor ever will, own this earth. We will all return to it and become one in the end.

Two dreamers hungry for the truth that we stand on. Feet firmly planted in souls instead of soil. We go unnoticed like the insects that forge their lives in the dirt. It’s important work, handshakes and smiles, kind words and thoughts, just two dreamers lucid and true.

Two souls dancing in a boreal existence. Colors and directions swaying between the realm of possibility and and the reality that the only places we’ll ever meet is within the wind as long as we breathe and within the earth when our ashes become dust.

Divisions

Wrapped in all of our scars and fears we walk through this life trying to be what we’ve been taught. Smiles cover pain and frowns beg concern.

Laughter becomes a resolve and as we cry and our tears get wiped with intention. Each tear becomes a new scar unseen to the world and its blind cruelty.

We are born determined by the spaces constantly seeking to define us. We were not born to be an occupation, or an entity to be occupied by tradition, industry, or culture. Life can conquer our brains and our hands, while our minds and spirits break free.

This is where we’re human and worth, color, and culture melt into humanity. Where hearts beat together with minds that seek solutions and divisions make no sense because the greater good saves your own soul.

From the macro dysfunction of dividing our environment, to dividing our intellect, or dividing our value as humans; inevitably we end up with the micro dysfunction of a schizophrenic existence dividing our loyalty, ability, and physical being to blend into this euphemistic melting pot that only exists in the minds of maniacs. We can just be human!!!