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Nearly 50 million Americans now depend on government food stamps to buy processed junk food that gives them cancer


The path that pilgrims once cut, through rugged landscapes and across great rivers, has been paved over. The men who pounded the stakes and laid the railroads across the plains are now just dust, watching Amtrak trains roll over the tracks they once built. The homesteads that once provided organic produce have been replaced by long lines of people waiting for their stamps so they can buy junk food.

Hearts of independence have eroded away to systems of collective dependence, as the comforts of life make it all too easy. For so many, the path is already laid out – what they eat, learn and put in their medicine cabinet is all handed down to them. And for some reason, the depression and disconnect is worse than ever. It can be seen in the eyes of some people, walking in lines with nothing to produce, nothing to explore, nothing to live for.

The earthly connection of Native American tribes with the land has given way to distanced relationships of craned over necks and glazed over eyes, consumed by social media. As the cameras watch and calculate everyone’s next move, somewhere, where the herd thins, someone is still planting their food and reaping the harvest of their own doing.

When a free man is removed from his innate purpose of working to provide for his own keep, his eyes glaze over, like a lion’s eyes do, when relegated to the confines of a zoo cage. Maybe all the conveniences handed out so easily are not so good for the spirit of the human being. There’s something soulfully fulfilling when one provides independently and can freely share the fruits of one’s labor however one wishes.

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