Millennial Entitlement

This is a new thing, and it started with the onset of the public school year.  Somehow children being contained in public buildings being managed by slave-like labor signaled it was okay to start them machines a rolling again.  Helicopters it seems rotates at a frequency causing a low frequency sound wave in the range of what is enveloping me right now.  I am not or never have been a terrorist.  I, like many civil rights leaders, champion honesty, integrity, and most of all opportunity.  I don't like feeling like a slave.  I don't think it is fair that a low frequency sound wave deserves to inhabit my home.  Fully I am aware of the plethora of new toys at Fort Bragg, including my own personal Learjet that picks me up and drops me off on a daily basis in Vanstory.  What other reason could there be that my T-tailed, American-flagged, cab appears magically a few moments after I go out in the yard?  It is very attentive.  I am not a terrorist and never have been.  While I do not view America as what Charlie Rose continually calls, "The Superpower of the World," I would see no reason to write manifestos about a coup de tat, unless it became overwhelmingly necessary.  We are reaching that point in America.  Never would I have surmised that the decade of my fifties would prove to be the most challenging of my life.  I thought life began at fifty.  I will be lucky to make it.  My health is in such dire challenge, often I do not see a resolution.  Not always is it physical health.  When a community revolves around an entity that trains men and women for war, what are the consequences?  Isn't it probable that the idea of peace may become lost?  Lost in the refuse of war.  Ho hum.  We in Fayetteville live in the refuse of war and see very little positive effects.  There are the flag wavers.  There are those who do not know why they are fighting for America, what our cause is, who the enemy is, or what our government is trying to accomplish.  Simply they choose to fight for the pride of fighting.  I acknowledge that, although I do not agree with it.  I do not agree that rapidly I see the United States Military being positioned as an entity that no longer will support the domestic national defense of America.  I know we don't want that, a ground war on our soil.  It will come to that, and I can't see the U.S. military performing that task.  It is the way it is right now.  There is no force available and ready to serve Americans at home.  We use the National Guard, and they kill college protestors.  Our police force has become racially biased.  There are few jobs.  On top of all of this Americans no longer feel good.  What few industries remain have gobbled up our environment with nary a blink.  "The Rise of the Machines."  It is real, and it is alarming.  I am not a terrorist, but if I chose to engage myself in IRA-like activity the easiest possible targets are spread like mindless chickens across our land.  It would not take much of a plan to bring America to her knees in a few days.  I just wonder who is thinking about it?  It won't be from jarheaded, towel-headed, sandniggers.  (of course I am taking artistic license using the word "sandnigger.")  It is not a part of my vocabulary.  After being verbally harassed this afternoon by a school boy at VanStory Elementary School, it made me think.  As I walked peacefully through the woods with my chainsaw to cut fallen trees from Hurricane Matthew, to ensure the safety of local neighborhood children, a playing boy saw fit verbally to shout taunts at me from the edge of the woods.  "Hey boy! Hey chainsaw boy with the white shirt.  Come here!"  This continued, and while I tried to study this dangerous mass of fallen trees blocking our tail, I began to feel uncomfortable.  I was being goaded, because I looked like an Appalachian hillbilly doing the only thing my meager mind could muster, run a chainsaw.  Several things went through my mind all of them almost impossible to fathom.  First there was a middle-classed school child shouting taunts at an chainsaw wielding stranger.  If he was suffering from a little too much TV, then wouldn't tomorrow being Halloween suggest that taunting a chainsaw wielding stranger be a bit of a risk?  There was Texas.  then I realized he had no clue what was happening.  Like others in American history to bring attention to himself he decided to bully someone.  Finally I shouted back, "I'm fifty-four years old and old enough to be your father.  You can stop shouting at me anytime."  Then I realized it must be common that in today's world respect and manners are a thing of the past.  I realized that in the scope of AMerican culture, it was my bounden duty to discipline this child.  A father would not allow such behavior, and only because these children were unsupervised was he enticed to show his ass.  When I work in these woods it is a kind of therapy.  The vines and the trees and the thorns do not taunt me.  They challenge me, but I do not feel goaded like a black slave child.  He called me, "Boy!"  I am fifty-four years old, and because I was wearing cut off sweat pants, and tank top, and bandana around my forehead his image of me was something from Deliverance.  I get it.  I remembered that often before I have been verbally harassed by children attending this school.  Each time it is as unfathomable as the previous.  Because I wear a bandana and wield an axe, a useful tool of the forest, against I am discriminated.  So much for living in a middle-class neighborhood.  There is a reason why I miss my childhood home and its surroundings.  The pretense and fabricated entitlement that has become our current generation only will fail, and America will follow if we all ready have not.