Don’t Tread on Me—Until You’re a Billionaire with a Ketamine Dependancy, in Which Case I Enthusiastically Help It
Pay attention, I don’t know find out how to say this, however I feel I’m lastly okay with being trodden on. Just a bit. Simply sufficient to really feel the reassuring weight of a billionaire’s boot urgent gently towards my liberty-loving neck.
For years, I stood tall towards tyranny. I flew my DON’T TREAD ON ME flag so excessive it violated three HOA rules and traumatized at the least one bald eagle. I stockpiled an arsenal so huge that Bass Professional Retailers despatched me a Christmas card. I wrote Fb posts in all caps demanding FREEDOM FROM GOVT OPPRESSION whereas utilizing the identical system the NSA might be studying this on proper now. However within the midst of all of it, I had a revelation.
What if I’ve been specializing in the mistaken tyrants?
What if, as an alternative of fearing the iron fist of Massive Brother, I truly feared the absence of a agency, guiding hand? A hand that is aware of find out how to launch a automobile into area for no discernible cause? A hand that cradles the way forward for humanity prefer it’s a cryptocurrency—overhyped, weirdly fragile, and solely accessible to a choose few traders? A hand that pops ketamine prefer it’s a biohacker’s multivitamin? A hand connected to a person who has positively learn Atlas Shrugged as a how-to handbook?
Sure, I used to worry centralized management. However now I perceive that true oppression isn’t the federal authorities taxing my diesel F-150. Oppression is NOT having a billionaire inform me what to consider immigrants, free speech, and which letter of the alphabet is the best. And people, if this tweeting tycoon says “X” is the most effective letter, then I say, by God, let’s rename all the alphabet.
I as soon as declared I might moderately die than let anybody take my weapons out of my chilly, useless arms. However now? If a billionaire knocked on my door and requested for my AR-15 to soften down right into a Neuralink prototype, I might personally hand it over and say, “I hope this helps you put in X into our brains, sir.”
Since you see, I belief this man. He’s not just like the others. When the federal government tracks you, that’s tyranny. When a billionaire does it? That’s innovation.
You recognize who taxed me final 12 months? The IRS. You recognize who DIDN’T tax me? This self-made genius. (By “self,” I imply household cash and authorities contracts.) And that, my pals, is why he’s a person of the folks. The Lord of Layoffs understands that taxes are only a manner for the Deep State to fund issues like roads, faculties, and weather-manipulation robots. In the meantime, he spends cash on issues that truly matter, like tanking a social media platform and legally renaming his baby a CAPTCHA take a look at.
The wealthiest reply man on earth may very well be dwelling the straightforward life on a yacht someplace, however as an alternative, he’s up at 3 a.m., posting memes concerning the selfless work he’s doing to assist folks discover a new profession path by personally firing them. He toils, not for wealth, however for the betterment of humanity, bravely battling SEC rules and woke park rangers. Mom Teresa wished she’d had that degree of devotion to humankind.
A few of my so-called pals say, “Hey, weren’t you simply ranting about private freedom final week?” And to that, I say: Precisely. PERSONAL freedom. And PERSONALLY, I really feel freer understanding {that a} man with limitless wealth, affect, a Nazi fetish, and a mysterious South African backstory is steering the ship of civilization towards Mars.
Liberty isn’t about resisting energy; it’s about choosing the proper overlord. And I, for one, welcome our Tesla-driving, meme-posting, allegedly ketamine-fueled king. In the event you disagree? Nicely, that simply means you haven’t been trodden on accurately.
So, I say this with love: Tread on me, Megaboss. Roll your Cybertruck proper over my beforehand untreadable physique. I eagerly await the tire tracks of progress.
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