We are wards of the state. Open your eyes. Look around you. Neither presidential candidate is going to give you your freedom. This is NOT your year of jubilee. As the indentured servant of the state, you vote as a pretense of power and liberation, but you are merely voting for the candidate who will make your servitude more comfortable. You must now ask yourself: What will my candidate do for me after all my years of hard work? Will he provide me free healthcare, no strings attached? Will he provide me free food if I need it, or a retirement package so that I won’t have to provide labor for him until the day I drop?
This is a major decision for all of us–as wards–because the implication is that, if we accept the benefits our chieftain offers, we will also have to live our lives the way he tells us. We may have to send our sons to fight his endless wars. We may or may not be able to marry the person we choose–remember, our chieftain doesn’t believe in the ideal of free association, but desires that we act honorably by forging a contract with him. Later, our daughters may or may not be able to have abortions the way they want them, and they may be forced to use his idea of birth control, OR they may be forced to vaccinate their children against their wills. On the other hand, he may provide all of us with free birth control and free vaccinations because we deem this as part of our birthright as servant sons of the state. We demand it, not because we can’t legally buy these medical treatments for ourselves, but because we’re tired and we deserve to have the things we want at no cost.
You see, it’s tiring being a ward of the state. It’s tiresome when we realize that we will work all our lives and buy all kinds of fancy things with the money our beneficent chieftain allows us to keep, but we will never own the ground where we squat to raise our families. We will never own our property. We will never be able to pass it down to our children and grandchildren in any legitimate fashion. Only our chieftain-state has the legal right to the land; only our most honored landlord possesses the final say-so. He holds our birthright, our blessing. Open your eyes. If you don’t believe this is the case, then I challenge you to stop paying your property taxes. Your landlord will not be happy with you, his rebellious ward. He’ll confiscate your land–seize it from your family–and sell it cheaply to a better, more compliant tenant. He will render you homeless because you haven’t honored him. You aren’t a jewel in his crown.
Open your eyes. It’s crucial that you see the truth. It’s crucial in this most important election just around the corner. You need to vote for the candidate(s) who will create a pleasant space for you, his ward, in your retirement–and even earlier, perhaps. You need to ensure that you’re able, after all is said and done, after you’ve worked for so many years, to have everything your heart desires–for free! As wards of the state, you deserve no less than whatever it happens to be that you want.