The overbearing state’s prime weapon is fear: fear life, fear death, fear everything in between — convincing the public to demand protection from the latest boogeyman under the bed.
Water and air would poison you — but not for government. Cars would kill, toys choke, workplaces maim — but not for government.
Fear convinces people the world needs bubble wrap to blunt life’s sharp corners.
Yet people still fall, still injure, still die. So they beg the government for thicker padding.
In the span of my short life — 53 years as I write this — childhood has gone from metal monkey bars over concrete and unrestrained rides in pickup beds to mandated car seats, bicycle helmets, and foam-padded playgrounds. Adults now need warnings that coffee is hot, that everything might cause cancer.
Death is everywhere, the state whispers. Surrender your agency if you want to live. So the government throws down more soft pillows, passes more laws, funds more programs to ensure no knee is scraped, no feelings br…
