What’s the Endgame?

Tell me, is it just me, or does anyone else feel like they’re living in the ruins of something once great? The ashes of a dream we’ve all been sold but never delivered? America, as she was—hell, as she should be—seems like a distant memory now. It’s not nostalgia speaking; it’s common sense. Freedom, the kind that mattered, wasn’t supposed to come with asterisks and terms of service agreements longer than the Constitution itself. So what happened? Where did it all go so wrong?

Let’s start with the basics: advertising. We’ve let it worm its way into every crevice of our lives. It’s in your ears, your eyes, your pocket—hell, it’s in your thoughts if the algorithms are doing their job. Remember when you could listen to the radio or watch a game without being bombarded by ten ads telling you what to buy, who to be, and why you’re not enough as you are? Now, even a quiet moment feels like a luxury—an experience that somehow needs to be optimized. And for what? So some billionaire somewhere can add another zero to their net worth while the rest of us are left wondering why we can’t seem to catch our breath?

But let’s not stop at advertising. Let’s talk about fear. Fear of speaking up. Fear of stepping out of line. Fear of saying the wrong thing, even if it’s the right thing. How many people do you know who’ve swallowed their pride, bit their tongue, and kept their heads down just to keep a roof over their heads? How many of us live under the constant threat of losing everything we’ve worked for because we dared to challenge the narrative, question the rules, or, God forbid, demand better? Freedom of speech is a great slogan, but try exercising it in the workplace or on social media and see how fast the hammer comes down. And isn’t that just the most sinister kind of censorship? Not imposed by the state but enforced by the fear of losing your livelihood.

And what do we get in return for this compliance? Broken systems and empty promises. Take our so-called justice system, for example. Binding arbitration—what a joke. You’re telling me that if my internet provider screws me over, or if my workplace does something blatantly illegal, I can’t even take them to court? No, I have to go through some kangaroo court where the deck is stacked against me from the start. And we call this justice? We call this freedom? It’s nothing but corporate tyranny with a polished veneer.

Then there’s education—or whatever passes for it these days. Can we even call it education when schools are too afraid to teach our kids anything that might upset someone’s delicate sensibilities? Forget about history, civics, or even basic life skills. We’re more concerned with stripping God from the anthem and banning prayer than we are with teaching kids how to think critically or stand up for their rights. Meanwhile, parents are stuck fighting over whether their children can learn in an environment that reflects their values or if they’ll have to bite the bullet and accept whatever watered-down, one-size-fits-all curriculum the bureaucrats deem acceptable this year.

And let’s not even get started on retirement. Retirement, they call it—a time to rest, to enjoy the fruits of your labor. What a cruel joke. For most of us, it’s just a countdown to the grave. You work your whole life, break your back, pay your taxes, and what do you get? A cramped, bug-infested “retirement home” where you can’t even have a damn overnight guest without filling out a mountain of paperwork. Want to see your grandkids more than a handful of times a year? Too bad—rules are rules. Want to enjoy a little freedom in your final days? Forget it. You’re a prisoner now, just waiting for death to come and relieve you of the burden of existing in this broken system.

Oh, and let’s talk about Social Security. That sacred promise they made to us—the one we all paid into, year after year, decade after decade. Where is it now? Raided, pillaged, and spent on God knows what. They tell us it’s running out, but they don’t mention the trillions of dollars wasted on endless wars, corporate bailouts, and pork-barrel projects that benefit no one but the well-connected. And when the time comes for us to collect, we’re supposed to be grateful for the scraps they throw our way, even as they dictate how we can spend it, where we can live, and who we can see.

And what about those who end up in prison—not for crimes that hurt anyone, but for the kind of nonsense that should never have been criminalized in the first place? Marijuana is a prime example. Legal in nearly half the country, generating billions in taxes, and yet how many people are still rotting in jail for offenses that wouldn’t even merit a slap on the wrist today? How many lives have been destroyed, how many families torn apart, all for the sake of a failed drug war that’s done nothing but fill the coffers of private prisons and the pockets of the politicians who enable them?

It’s not just the young or the poor who suffer, either. It’s our veterans, our elderly, our disabled—those who’ve already given everything they had to give. They’re treated as expendable, shuffled into underfunded, overcrowded facilities where their rights and dignity are stripped away one rule at a time. Can’t smoke a cigarette, can’t have a drink, can’t even choose who you spend your time with. They fought for freedom, and this is the thanks they get?

And let’s not forget healthcare—or the lack thereof. Get hurt on the job? Good luck navigating the maze of red tape and fine print to get the care you need. Take the wrong medication a month before your accident? Sorry, that’s a pre-existing condition now. Meanwhile, insurance companies rake in billions, and we’re left wondering why the richest nation in the world can’t provide its citizens with basic medical care without bankrupting them in the process.

So, what’s the endgame? Where does this all lead? It’s not hard to see, is it? A world where freedom is just a buzzword, where rights are conditional, and where every aspect of our lives is monitored, monetized, and controlled. A world where we’re nothing more than cogs in a machine, working ourselves to death to keep the system running while the people at the top laugh all the way to the bank.

But it doesn’t have to be this way. We don’t have to accept this as our reality. We can fight back, speak out, and demand better. We can teach our kids the truth about their rights, their history, and their power. We can hold the powerful accountable and refuse to let them dictate the terms of our existence. We can reclaim what’s been taken from us—our freedom, our dignity, and our future.

So, I’ll ask again: what’s the endgame? And more importantly, what are we going to do about it?!