Waiting For 2012

“We’ve got five years, stuck on my eyes
Five years, what a surprise
We’ve got five years, my brain hurts a lot” – David Bowie “Five Years”

We’ve got 2 years. When we started the internet beast of Americana known as “American NonFiction” we had 4 years. The count down is in progress. The Revolution will be blogged. These facts are a bight light shone at the end of a dark tunnel. The convergence of the world’s problems will hit those insulated from the World with the hardest strike. Peek Oil, Class stratification, the fall of the New World Order. The dawn of a new day sees resurrection of the moral soul.

You must fight. The battle line is everywhere. This is class war in the highest order and a call to the days of France, when the heads rolled and aristocrats learned their power was only as great as the people let them have. Yet, the end of our quest is far from a farm where the Pigs walk on two legs.

The hand strikes the clock and sand falls through the glass. The knock at the door opens to non-violent opposition. Let the red sights fill the face and turn life into art deco. One life to give to the American Dream, seen in the reflections of hope, of change, of a new world order. One World Love for all Earthlings.

Our country, on it’s face, at the inception was a quest for freedom from those who would suppress and oppress his siblings. All men created equal and entitled to the rights of all men. Though we need to surpass the limits and needs of Americas as we strive to define all men as all Earthlings.

The opposition, the Power elite, are fucking morons, in respect to their social sensibility. Yet their ultimate mistake comes in the form of their greed. The high pay of their police officers and the low pay of our teachers. Hilter’s ultimate mistake came when he surrounded himself with ignorant and stupid men. Cruise through Beverly Hills in a junker and you will see the ignorant come out in spades, flashes of red and blue.

Today, we see the prior crumbles of a long time in the works. The greed of man once again pulls the rug out from under himself. Now is the time to chew off their fingers, while Uncle Tom screams “Don’t bite the hand that feeds.” “I AM.” provides and helps those who help themselves.