America Asleep

You don't see them, but they're all around you. They're whispering in your ear, counting your steps, turning you back. They're controlling you, and you can't even see them. You think you know where you are, where you're going, what you believe in, how the world works, but you can't see the quicksand that's sucking at your shoes. No, your knees. Make that your shoulders.

Who do you listen to? Teachers, preachers, leaders, press—do you know if you can trust them? How many lies have slithered through your ears and you've been too blind to feel them?

You're asleep, and you will never wake up until you question everything you know. It's frightening—the most frightening thing—that fleeting, horrible thought, "Is this real?" For five minutes, step off the brink of reality and plummet into the darkness below. Unhook your brain from everything you've been taught and what you know to be fact. Dare to contemplate the unthinkable:

They lied. And you fell for it.


The nightmare is just that—fantasies of a sleeping brain. The demons clawing at your door are not angels, but mere men. You have been sleepwalking far too long, trusting in sheep with fangs. It's all a sham. A con. A brilliant scandal.

Will you choose to wake up and do the hard work of finding facts for yourself instead of drinking sweet syrup spooned out by eager hands? Your heart is not at fault; it's your brain. You've been hooked up to a machine pumping sugar water through your bloodstream far too long.

But you don't want to wake up, do you? Because waking up means that everything you've fought and died for is wrong, and you will have to turn back the clock. But if you do not wake up, if you do not pull out the IV, then the wolves have already won.