A Ticket To Willoughby Please, And Hurry!
I took the Metro Rail downtown the other day to meet a friend at a hotel. I never ride the train, but I thought I would check it out. After listening to some people rattling in Spanish and Chinese and finally Rap, I wanted off the train.
I dozed off for just a moment and remembered the Twilight Zone episode “A Stop at Willoughby”
An advertising executive named Gart Williams is pushed to the limit at work by a greedy fat boss who screams at him. And then he takes a train home to Connecticut to a shrew of a wife with an ambitious appetite for herself and her husband.
I saw the face of the boss yelling “Get with it Williams, its a Push, Push, Push world! C’mon boy, get with it, it’s Push, Push, Push, all the way!”
I was only out for a few moments but I had merged the purchase of my train ticket in my mind with the Twilight Zone episode. In my dream I was trying to buy a ticket. I was demanding from the agent a ticket to Willoughby. He called security and I woke up. I was at the Highland Park station.
I had purchased an all day ticket and I was early. I had some time, so I got off and went to look for something to drink. I found a convenience store down the block and bought a Gator Aid. I sat down on a bus bench and thought about Willoughby.
I thought about the idyllic and picturesque small town where the advertising executive first dreams of an escape and then travels to the town through his own death.
I will always remember what the conductor said to him about Willoughby. He said it was a place where a man could slow down to a walk and live his life full measure. Then Mr. Williams waked to reality and found himself with his disapproving greedy wife.
The Gator Aid cooled me down, and I began to relax as I headed back to the station. I have no wife. I’m not really under great pressure like Mr. Williams. Or am I? Have I ever felt that I was free to slow down to a walk and live my life to full measure? The answer is not really. And why is that?
In 1880 Willoughby, a fictional town in a Twilight Zone episode that is a train stop on the route to Connecticut from New York City, there is a town square with a bandstand. There are kids fishing and everyone says good morning cheerfully. Even if this reality never existed it should have. But any chance for it was destroyed by 1913 when the Federal Reserve Bank was instituted. That was the year by the way income tax was first levied. And banks have owned us ever since.
Let’s forget the conspiracies and simply face the facts.
“If the American people ever allow private banks to control the issue of their currency, first by inflation, then by deflation, the banks…will deprive the people of all property until their children wake-up homeless on the continent their fathers conquered…. The issuing power should be taken from the banks and restored to the people, to whom it properly belongs.”
Thomas Jefferson in the debate over the Re-charter of the Bank Bill (1809)
You owe money while you are still in diapers, because private international bankers are charging the government interest on the money they exchange for Treasury Notes, money the Government should be printing itself at no interest.
The recent overthrow of the United States Constitution by Barak Obama and his Apollo Alliance of Big Labor, The Marxist Greens, and the Marxist Redistribution of Wealth Social Justice Cabal, coupled with Big Finance from Wall Street, now running the White House, and Big Corporations has made it almost complete. Throw in the disappearance of even a pretense of true journalism, and they will tell you there are two hundred protestors when there were actually ten thousand. They don’t care. They will do as they wish and then tell you did not see the things that you actually saw. They deny clear video evidence of Obama saying he is for a single payer system. Then they tell each other we don’t know what is good for us. The bankers know better.
You see they are only interested in you as a client and a financial slave from cradle to grave, a grave they will dig for you early, if possible. They own the minorities and the illegals, but they need health care to make it impossible for you to escape them and live as free men and women.
Go ahead, trade in your perfectly good paid-for car. Here is $4500, sign here and make the payments. Don’t think about slowing down to a walk and living your life simply in full measure. The Boys at the IMF, and the CFR, and the FED are counting on you. The Rockefellers, and the Kennedy’s and the Morgans, and the Rothschilds and Rahm Immanuel and his brother Dr. Death Ezekiel Immanuel and Timmy Geithner and the Bilderbergers all need you to “sacrifice for your country.” All Neo con Rockefeller Republicans and Democrats alike agree, you are too stupid to see reality.
The world needs one government run by those with Harvard degrees. It is only right. If you see something that looks fishy that doesn’t make sense, if you see the government telling you lies, you are mistaken. Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain, for he is the Obama, the Great and Powerful!
There never was a Willoughby or even a Mayberry. There was no Leave it to Beaver. There was no Father Knows Best. There was only evil capitalism run by white devil men who stole everything they got from the browns and the poor. We are now embarking on a new international journey. Get with it boy, it’s a push push push, world. No more divisiveness. The Corporations and Labor and Wall Street and the Media, and the Greens and the Marxists are all on board. You may have to give up your silly reliance on your guns and your Bibles, but in the end you will know we are right. You will understand true tolerance. We will save you from yourselves and save the planet all at the same time…
I used the restroom in a service station near the train station and washed my face. I remembered Mr. Williams looking in the mirror in his washroom being haunted by the images of his evil dominating control freak of a boss, and I thought of the WallCaponeStreet Gang now running our country.
I got back on the train headed to the hotel downtown. Mr. Williams died looking for Willoughby. If I could go there I would join him. I may anyway. I am finally ready to die for something. I am ready to die for the re-institution of the United States Constitution. I am ready to fight and sacrifice my life so that the only beacon of freedom left on planet earth does not perish.
I am headed to Willoughby. It is a place where the American Dream still resides.
It is a place free from the BIG of everything. It is a place free from the BIG: Filthy Corporate, Filthy Government, Filthy Labor, Filthy Financial, Filthy Media, Filthy Lying Greens and Academics and Filthy Lawyers whose Cronyist ways are restrained by a true separation of powers and limited government. It is a place where the average man is not despised and condescended to by wicked eastern elitists who know nothing of the Truth of America.
It is a place where Americans make things again, the only true source of wealth. It is a place where pencil pushing, fat, lazy, video-game, perverted, outsourcing internationalist, vain, foolish, celebrity, clown traitors and banking whores are not welcome.
It is a place where a man or a woman can live and think free and worship the Living God to whom we owe all our bounty and in Whose Name we now demand a restoration of our rights, our Constitution and our free way of life!
Free men may have to shed blood again! And if there is to be trouble, let it fall on my generation, half of whom are the reckless fools who have brought us to this. They are the liars who cloak themselves in outward niceties and compassion only to hide the envy and murder in their hearts. They are back stabbers, haters of God, insolent, proud, and boastful. They are over throwers and thieves pretending to the poor and inventing new ways to hide the darkness of their souls.
The good news is that we may finally restore the clarity that made this nation the hope of the world. I will say what my friends are afraid to say. I have no more courage than they, just less to lose. For my God and my country I will speak up so that the next generation not yet born may live in liberty. I have only my life to lose. They have lives yet lived and the Living God to thank if liberty is restored.
So a ticket to Willoughby please, and hurry!