The Slavers Are Coming
There is a tally to be paid beyond this place, our world. Our world, so God tells us is a furnace; a forge in which we are being shaped. A fire that strips away all about you that conceals what lies within at the center of what we are. After the fire, the good book says, after the dross is gone, you will be judged not for your Sins, for God sent us a means by which to be judged more fully, but for what purpose we may truly serve beyond now. Before God sent us Jesus to help determine our real future, God provided us commandments. But God was to find out the consequences of bestowing free will upon any creature. That consequence, of course, is that anything can happen, even things we don’t like.

Those commandments were designed to provide parameters to live within which encouraged the proper shape of the clay upon the wheel. Somehow, within us, the recipients of this irrevocable bequest, find within themselves dissent with these strictures, the commandments. A blindness erupts in such people, a blindness to what they are doing. We know when we stray from the path God has made so clearly for us that we don’t fully understand the precise shape that the potters hand is seeking, but the edges of our paths are clearly marked, and there are simply those among us who cross them, into whatever lies beyond the “ Keep Out “ signs God is trying to point the way with. And I imagine purpose underlies the effort. After all, are we not made of something? And does not our creator expend some effort in our making? I cannot imagine what lies in the beyond for those who choose to follow the desired paths by remaining within the boundaries of God’s grace, but I do muse occasionally upon the future of those who are too dull to follow God’s simple rules. For that is what venality is, in whatever shape it chooses to wear. Dullness. It is we the ones still on the path, mixing energy with foresight who respond to this with drama, and it is that drama, shaped so cleverly by those who wear it, a fig leaf. A fig leaf that they might stand before God, clinging to the only thing that makes their shame bearable. And it is us, this poisoned and divided ship of fools, somehow we manage to communicate, and cooperate with our predictable ways to be the fabric of that leaf. So our contumacious cousins might test the limits of God’s patience, we fight and scrabble with each other so that any behavior might be justified by some voices in a sea of voices so racked by storm that no wave is distinguishable from another, and no true voice may be heard over the clamor of the chaos.

If I may be allowed to speak freely, I would like to render my thoughts on how any of this relates to a specific case of such a departure from God’s will and our response. Despite the very real sideshows of violence and despair erupting around us with such shocking force and frequency, there is something which we must turn our eyes toward together, the central purpose to which seeks to paralyze us is to reduce us to a completely helpless state. What will those who are spending extravagant sums to create a political process that inevitably corrupts all who partake of it do with us when we are ultimately helpless to resist them? Why, they will do what every conquering nation has done to any defeated people. They will enslave us. They will kill our old and useless, they will work any men found who can or will, and they will exercise great cruelty in the killing of those who fight them. And, they will make what sport they will with our wives and daughters. It is the invariable path of conquerors.

God’s commandments, and the natural algorithm toward our desired shape which is to be found in the story of Jesus strongly suggest through such commandments as “honor thy father and thy mother “, that the least among us are part of a common purpose which binds us together in finding solutions to helping them live with dignity, that we not bring our children up amidst such dishonor. Our government informs us that medical care to the poor must go, that they might find more funding in their campaign against us. The poor must die in humiliating circumstances, and our children must be bound to a future with such a landscape, and we, those whose desired shape has yet to be determined, will soon feel the touch of another masters hand. Now is not the time for speeches, or marches, or rallies. Now is the time for every person who can see the truth rushing upon us to look outward privately, to do an internal inventory. To determine if anything is to be done, and if not, to prepare for war. Gentlemen, prepare to defend yourselves, the slavers are coming.

Copyright 2017
Clevenger & Witt

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