Mr. Browder’s Sanction Wars

Communists are very intelligent creatures, you would think. Unless you had a gambling problem, then not so much. Mr. Browder has surely tested my patience when observing his entourage of thieves and liars that seem to travel without any government telling them what to do nor how to continue a score. The best drug is a mathematician in front of a stock market. Their adrenaline and fear reaches the foolish gate of reality sometimes. Since Mr. Browder now operates through his son’s company, its unlikely the next generation will be caught in time with their advanced technological investments. All that ends up blamed on capitalism, but the undertone is Commie. Deal with the tone, here. If politics are going to be tossed away through every news station, we are the news. You are the audience. That fear globalists want to purge in the streets is inevitable, but we could choose to unite for a party of fun instead of one. That happens sometimes with karma. Enough people gather to see the same asshole is a common enemy, then that wise guy might need to think twice about scamming his next victim. Browder can’t challenge law so his design to slowly erase and replace it is also a common theme of past political history. I observed then as I do now. My grandparents and family have long planted their feet in the Texas soil, to stand up for the little guy, because we were all just little hardworking guys. There was no king of the ranch. Oilmen became rich off of our sweat, as our families traveled through filthy waters, carrying loads of equipment, carving through villages for a fucking retirement watch or a clock made in China, so what’s the problem with the little guy standing up and saying no more, no and no again?

I made a difference and so can you. My officials were threatened by an invisible enemy and we say now, no more. If you are a friend, than act like you want to be a part of something bigger, take responsibility for those less fortunate then unite a challenged economy which thrives on culture and family and nature. The extremists have no choice. People like Mr. Browder are relentless and constantly threatened by someone much bigger. I knew I had to say goodbye to politics before I even voted. There was a man, a journalist, a hero in need of attention. He wanted to teach transparency and common sense in a currency. He could see the future advancing, without responsibility. He suffered the hand of the government, yet encouraged others to never give up, never give in. He had children he desperately cared for, endlessly knowing risk of a father in crisis. But he believed. He wanted more than what he was. And he trusted a stranger to help. Free Assange, they sang, and wept, and protested, and gathered, and prayed. A new vision of the future was told through new eyes. Brand new journalists appeared, raw in form without a scholar and a grade. They would not lock down but they would lock arms, and become the strength America needed.