It's like he's talking to me. I've said the same thing before, but the realization that everything I do is useless doesn't spur me to action. What am I going to do? Quit my job? I can hear my mom and my ex-wife calling me names already. What do I tell them? Sorry, but the boys are going to have to go without their daddy... for a change... but also without $240 bucks every two weeks. They'll be dumbed down corporate slaves and might get tortured (what do you think tasering is?), imprisoned without cause, and be subject to a totalitarian dictatorship, but they'll have their daddy... at the same 300-mile distance, and $240 every two weeks!
So, after I walk away from my job and abandon my family, I drive my shitty truck as close to DC as it will get me, then walk the rest of the way? I've hitchhiked before. No big deal. If I hang a cardboard sign that says "Washington, DC" on it, I'll have no trouble getting rides. Then what? No, really, what then? I don't fucking know. It's not like I would be surrounded by an army of angry protesters, determined to take decisive action. I would be one unemployed man, shouting at people that don't care while I get tasered and cuffed by the Brown Shirts.
Friends and family reading this might be starting to worry. They know that dropping everything to take on a hopeless cause sounds like just the kind of thing I might have done, a decade ago, in my impetuous youth.
Maybe you should worry. I ain't that damn old. I just don't want to be this guy (Not pictured: Those tanks rolling right over his ass five seconds later):
