Jeff Banta, the snitch

Bump Stocks and Wooden Shovels

At work I use a nail gun.  It is pneumatic, semi automatic and deadly.  Each pull of the trigger fires one nail into my target, usually wood.  The magazine houses around 40 nails.  How long until using this is illegal?  Do you think this a stretch of reality or truth?  Metal shovels were once illegal.

It's long past due to rise up.

Everyone wants to write letters or sign petitions.  That's all pointless because it's the same as fighting their allegations in THEIR court system.  Take it from me who has been stripped of 3/8 of his humanity, fight.  Now.

But then again the petty side of me feels that maybe everyone deserves this and the subsequent disarming and involuntary servitude under the Fourteenth Amendment because they are hipocrites, as I once was, and toe the government line screaming murder against people like me because we have a dirty label attached to us.

"Shall not be infringed" no longer means anything to the intellectually deficient and completely ignorant masses.

America has become a nation of Tories.  You ride the government narrative like it will stave off the apocalypse and hope for the few scraps they never told you would be allowed to be kept and accept, like a dog, the constant derision suitable only to a traitor, for even the government does not respect a traitor to his own people.  You see all forms of communication as praise, though the bulk of it is negative and spoken with deadly intent. Master looks at you with suspicion and contempt, even as you hail and loudly applaud every decree your beloved King has belched forth, preaching hate, exile and death to all those who balk in the sheer madness of what they are witnessing.

America is a pack of dogs.

Each day, the pack of dogs that is America barks louder.  They bluff and charge, snarling and snapping their teeth for show just to stop feet before the chain reaches the extent of it's length, so as not to damage the gift that Master has bestowed upon them.  This pack has a few alphas, but those dogs, wolves among dogs, were tranquilized and defanged, while the rest of the pack howled in terror and sadness at what was happening within their reach, yet did nothing.  Some were euthanized, again within reach of the pack, who did nothing but mourn the bravest of their brethren.  The dogs howl daily in loving memory of their lost leaders and then go to sleep to await the few scraps Master may give them, or to work and attempt to please Master.

America is reaping the fruits of her labor.  She has worked lovingly for master as the proverbial House Nigger and in return she has been impregnated with half breed babies that both see a father figure and a wrathful God in their captor...the man who does not love his child, whom he sends to the fields instead of embracing him as his son.

You're all dead to me.