America … honey, it’s time.

It’s time to wake up.

Good morning, America, you sleeping giant. Land that holds the bones of my forebears ancient and modern.

Good morning, beautiful patriots worldwide.

I look forward to that incredible moment when you finally realize you’re at the very edge of the precipice.

When you burst the soft thin bands holding you down, and start tearing the shit out of the tiny devils who’ve led you down the primrose path to the brink of destruction.

America … it’s time … you can do this.

Rise up and shout.

Rage against the dying of your light.

Reach back and hold the hands of your founding mothers and fathers.

Reach forward and wrap your great-grandchildren’s hands around your mighty fingers.

Pull yourself up and pull Satan’s rotten temple down on his diseased head.

Rise to the full stature of your glory, and raise the whole world with you, so they can finally see the spikes of hope’s brilliant sunshine soaring above the false dark clouds of deceit.

It’s time to wake up.

Honey … America …

It’s time.