Death as your advisor.

   When I stop listening to the past that tells us all to conform to the will of those who possess us, and I turn to face the future and my own death, I hear the cries of our children telling us to change the course we are on.  I see the anguish of our seed being forced into tighter and tighter molds. Forced to obey masters that care little or nothing for their captives, our own spawn who are trapped in the hull, rowing slave ships of the corporate world.  They are captives, trapped in darkness by blinders made of ignorance and fear woven by masters of deception and treachery into a social reality that only serves the deceivers.  I see our children pinned down by chips in their hands and watched by surveillance cameras at all times.
  We are the gatekeepers of the future. Turn to the right and we tighten a social mold that only serves the possessors, turn to the left and we set our children free!  Which will it be?

                                                                             Grandpa Owl