The individual has no rights under mob rule.
Whatever the collective decides, the individual becomes a slave to. Freedom finds itself on precarious footing.
I've been living under junk mob rule.
Oh sure, it all starts out with hopes of Utopia, but let me burst your bubble now and get it over with. Utopia doesn't exist here on earth. Personal liberty through God's eternal promise is our only way to Paradise.
The turning over of my freedom at home happened one piece of junk at a time.
One trunk at a time.
One garden arbor dismantled and lying on the patio at a time.
One cool piece of salvaged treasure piled up outside the back door at a time
The junk mob is definitely seeking to take over my individual rights at home right now and I'm ready to go and fight the battle to secure my liberty once again. If you do not see me for a while, you'll know I'm on the front lines. You may wonder while I'm away whether or not I've allowed myself to bend and bow to the rule of the majority. Perish the thought! Individual freedom at any cost! I want my life back and I want to make the decisions, not have them made for me by the collective junk. Right now they are having way too much say about how my family and I live. No more!
The junk came one freebie at a time.
Will the vintage library rack put its heavy boot to my neck? Will the amazing paint splattered Costco step chair trip me up? Probably since they already have.
Will I find myself boxed in by the cool gate-leg table? Will I be misguided by the groovy console?
These "treasures" have already laid down the challenge before me. Perhaps they will try to overtake me, but never fear, I will fight and fight valiantly to regain my personal ability to come and go as I please.
I may also be further assaulted by the barrage of the insignificant "smalls" that lie in wait on any and every horizontal surface. They beg with their hands out for me to free them from their poverty of style.
My fingers may end up worn to the nubs with sanding or painting my way through the fight, and the cuts and bruises on my arms and knees will certainly be among my battle scars as the junk attempts to break my spirit and my will. I know the struggle will not be short-lived. A victory today is only temporary. For freedom to endure in the land of salvaged junk, we must be vigilant, constantly. Liberty must be protected at all costs and at all times as new junk finds its way into our lives.
Junkers on GuardJunkers must be on their guard. For junk in the form of a mob is physically dangerous at the least, and it's effects upon the spirit can be much more significant.
I intend to reign victorious and secure my personal liberty back from the tyranny of the junk I have allowed into my life. May my home stand strong with individual rights and freedom trumping the mob rule of the collective junk that I've invited in piece by piece. I'm not even sure where to begin, but begin I must. Begin I will.
And while we're at it, may the Republic for which America stands find the power to do the same. The battle in the United States rages on as well, with those in power clamoring for CONTROL on every front. Their attempts to separate us from our individual rights and replace them with collective control (for our own good, they are saying) are well underway and backed by the media. Don't be among the gullible or those who sacrifice personal liberty for temporary security. The mob who promises to take care of you can also turn against you. History proves it will. Once mob rule is in place, the individual no longer has a say.
The Junk of LifeThe junk of life comes in many forms. Some is made of wood and metal, and with a little grit and determination we can restore it and even make it into something beautiful and useful. There is another kind of junk backed by forces much more powerful, though, and it weaves lies much more insidious than those we allow our junky finds to whisper in our ear. Our only hope to beat back the junk making its way through America is to stand guard and begin to stand up to the aggressive attempts to undermine our liberty to start rooting out the stuff that has piled up. Otherwise, the repercussions will be devastating.
Meanwhile, the work to restore my home and gain back personal control has begun.
I moved things around so the console makes a little more sense in the living room. It's not perfect but it's a little better. My son pleads with me not to paint it, to leave something with a wood finish. We'll see. For now it remains with the wood look, but I don't know how long I'll be able to take it.
I'll keep you posted as I take strides to reclaim the rooms of my house, beginning in the living room. It seems to me if I can't handle my own home and the inanimate objects I collect, I have little hope of standing up to help preserve our nation.
Freedom begins at home in more ways than one.
You'll find my posts at these parties this week: