My Friends and I Sell Hope With a Rifle, What do you do for a Living?

Hello and good evening to everyone,

An invasive and vicious kind of hope may be found in the threat of fear. Fear of the devils over in that country. Fear of the men down this street. Fear of the bombs hidden in the buses. Fear of shooters firing in the schools. Fear of the unknown void that lies before us all. Once your mind is possessed with fear and your heart is swept up with anxiety and panic. And so, my friends and I tie our uniforms over our bodies so we may offer you hope with a rifle in hand.

First, fear must be promoted and rage must entice your heart. They string up the irritant and let it seduce your mind and draw you into our domain. There, we offer you violence and conquest, all so we can cultivate hope. You’ll be shown something someone labeled wretched and evil natured. Call it the Devil, bad people or an unholy entity born of bad thoughts and nasty ideas; my friends and I will brand it as the enemy. You’re shown you these things, these dark and twisted things, to remind you that evil is a very real thing and we are not only able to kill it: we smite it. And then, after the stories air, the posts are launched and the fear is fastened into your skin; we’ll roll in on massive war machines to obliterate that evil with our rifles, bombs and grit.

We show you that evil so we can tell you our story; our story of conquest and war. That way you will know without hesitation that we blew them back to their proper place in hell. We killed evil. We sought out the most ugly and harsh individuals on the planet and killed them. We want to give you hope and install it firmly within your mind and stitch it somewhere in your heart. This whole war story is intended to foster hopeful feelings and warm thoughts. From the brutish affair of war, we pray you are graced with hope.

We are pawns in a larger scheme, and we admit this. However, everyone in that scheme is striving to issue you hope and pull you into a new fold; one freshly sown with a new and pretty future. As pawns we are expected to be sacrificed. Sometimes our blood must be sloshed across the ground and trees to gain a strategic upper hand. Sometimes our bodies must be ravaged by bullets and malice in order to gain a political upper hand. But through this sacrifice, we offer you hope. Hope in the form of a victory on the battlefield. Hope in the form of a heroic tale. Hope in the form of evil going away to jail. Hope is what we intend to provide you all, even if that means crippling our bodies, slaying other youngsters and dying for a cause not one of us fully comprehends. We offer you hope without asking anything of you. No matter the cost and no matter the pain, with the concluding of our breath, our duty is to offer you a dash of hope.

Our part is small in this large and hopeful game. We offer hope by spilling the blood of today’s evil doers. We bind our countrymen and women together with this hope. From our fear and toil, our nation and cities are made stronger. The people are inspired to do more, give more and become more passionate, respectful and involved. We provide a rallying point cast in patriotic hues for the people and the politicians. And from this single point of gratitude we are pitched into the abyss; shielded by a smile and the knowledge we performed our duty, we lie down in the final and darkest hole.

And from our post outside the gate and between the trench walls; we offer you a gift. A gift, some say, painted by the same blood that stains our boots. A gift wrapped in the pain that’s lashed across our hearts. A gift we have come to call tomorrow, and anticipation that it’ll bring something new, warm and comforting. So when someone asks what you do for a living, tell them the truth: you do your duty, you hope for that tomorrow while my friends and I sell it to you with a rifle in hand.


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