To the average voter, this election is still about his team versus the other guys’ team.
The rest of us see it for what it really is: the government versus the people. But more so than ever before, there’s a sickness in this country, which some are still unwilling to admit.
That’s because they’re on that good government shit.
The United States has become a drug user. What is the drug of choice? Political heroin pushed by the government, the biggest dealer in the world, and protected by their security team and closest ally, the media. Much like real heroin, the shit the government’s got feels really good. So good, in fact, it creates an insatiable lust. People find themselves considering doing something so vile, so out of character, so desperate to keep that junky sick away.
They’re about to vote for Hillary Clinton to hold the most powerful political position in the world.
America is addicted. For years, America has been telling us it can stop whenever it wants to, but it just doesn’t want to yet. America is living in the basement. It’s blown $20 trillion, it can’t find a job so it’s stopped looking, it’s selling off all its manufacturing, healthcare, and whatever else it can find to pay the government for that comfy, warm political heroin blanket. It feels so good having the government take care of us with social welfare programs, education, environmental protection, flowing deeper and deeper in the vein. Meanwhile, all of America’s media friends come over and get high together, solidifying their belief that what they’re doing is fine and just. It’s simply everyone else that’s ruining their good time.
But there is still hope for America because the Interventionist is here. He’s pulled into the driveway and stepped out of the car, pausing for a moment to take in the unkempt lawn, the dilapidated exterior of the house, and the neglected neighborhood. He sees the poor’s unemployment rates doubling all over the place, the sucking chest wound of a false racial narrative, and the endless attacks from a religious gang hell-bent on taking more turf. He sees America for what it is, passed out behind the wheel careening toward a cliff.
So he finally stepped in to do what needs to be done.
The Interventionist stood at the top of the basement stairs, looked down, and saw America with its eyes rolled back, tongue hanging out, and cellar door wide open so anyone could just wander in from off the streets. He quickly glided down the stairs, to the cellar door, and slammed it shut. America abruptly but clumsily lifted its head as the border between chaos and calm was restored.
He’s not here to spread hate, he’s not here to rule over America’s life, he’s not even here to take advantage of America like the government’s politicians, both Left and Right, have been. He doesn’t want your money, he’s not getting paid to do this, he’s a true outsider, and he’s only here to help. Yet, for whatever reason, America is still listening to its media friends. They keep shouting their pro-political heroin propaganda in America’s ear.
“He’s a racist!” they yell. “He’s a misogynist! He’s a dictator!”
There’s no substance to their arguments because political heroin hasn’t been working, so they continue to attack the Interventionist.
“He’s a liar and a cheat! He’s Hitler! He’s a fool!”
But something’s happened. The fog is clearing, and America is able to look around. The Interventionist pushed the media aside, relegating them to the corner of the room. He’s reached out his hand and looked America dead in the eyes. The media is still whipped up into a frenzy as every one of their efforts to slander the Interventionist appears to fall upon deaf ears.