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@ordered-liberty
This is Liberty!
(Verse 1) He's been working this county for twenty long years Knows where every body's buried, every doubt and every fear Got a smile like a handshake and a heart like a hole Been trading in whispers, been collecting his toll (Chorus) A little story here A word or two there Gets his people spun up At somebody's good name, Just a nod and a whisper and the coven goes insane And the telling they do is a lie That's the way of the Howling Not caring whose reputation dies (Verse 2) He never raises his voice, never shows you his hand Just a quiet conversation and you don't understand How you ended up angry at the good ole boy Always smiling at the table, plotting his next plan (Chorus) A little story here A word or two there Gets his people spun up At somebody's good name oh… somebody to blame Just a nod and a whisper and the coven goes insane And the telling they do is a lie That's the way of the Howling Not caring whose reputation dies (Bridge) And the ones he's been killing Don't have nowhere to turn No voice, no shield No way to return the burn It's all about power And that power punches down Strong man, weak man, sad man A man who lost the plot It's time to bring him down (Verse 3) But a funny thing happens When you play it that way When the people you've been using Start to figure out the game When the ones that you've been spinning Start to ask the right questions And the word gets around About his quiet little lessons (Final Chorus) A little story here A word or two there But now we're the ones talking And the town's gonna hear Going to hear about a new man's good name We're done with the whispers and the coven The truth has a power That a lie can't contain We are ending the Howling It's the start of a new day (Outro - spoken) He never yelled Never had to Just a word or two In the right ear At the right time For the wrong reasons That's the Howling And maybe his story is done
(outro) Strong man, weak man, sad man A man who lost the plot Let this be the end of the Howling And the start of a new day
It's a Long Way to Anywhere
© 2026 Jeff A Pierson
Counting on promises That were never really made. Watching the seasons pass, While the colors slowly fade. Talking like it matters, Like it’s all about to change. But every step they’re not taking, Keeps us the same.
They say just be patient! They say just hold on! But waiting feels like a wasteland Where love is lost and everything is gone.
They are waiting on a change, But not doing a thing. Just watching the clock for the nothing it brings. Yeah, they are waiting on a change, Acting like they're already there But it’s a long way to anywhere… oh… when you're standing still
Smiling for the cameras, Shaking every hand. Talking like they’re different, While they work thier plan. Saying what you want to hear, Changing when it’s time. Talk about standing for folks, Then stepping out of line!
They say it’s complicated! They say it takes time! But time just keeps on passing, And they’re still standing in line.
Most are still waiting on a change, But not doing a thing, Just watching the clock, and watching the nothing it brings! Yeah, most are waiting on a change, Acting like they're already there. But it’s a long way to anywhere Yeah, it’s a long way to anywhere… …when you are standing still
You can feel it breaking, Underneath your feet! All the quiet failures! All the silent defeats! No one wants to say it! But standing still together, Is the slowest death of all.
If no one dares to move Then nothing changes. You can’t outrun darkness While you're standing still.
They are waiting on a change Just passing time, Stuck in the same spot Standing still!
Yeah, they are waiting on a change But nobody dares to run it’s a long way oh… a long way to anywhere If you are standing still!
Yeah, it’s a long way A long way To anywhere
This song was inspired by a couple of our local heroes and a few thousand of thier friends.
© Copyright 2026, Jeff A Pierson - Permission to use it to resist renewable energy and related projects - just mention Dean Dimond, Jerry Holton, and Lava Ridge.
Some Say We Will Never Win - Inspired by a couple of local heroes and few thousand of thier friends. © Copyright 2026, Original Lyrics Jef
This song was inspired by a couple of our local heroes and a few thousand of thier friends.
© Copyright 2026, Jeff A Pierson - Permission to use it to resist renewable energy and related projects - just mention Dean Dimond, Jerry Holton, and Lava Ridge.
Some Say We Will Never Win - Inspired by a couple of local heroes and few thousand of thier friends. © Copyright 2026, Original Lyrics Jef
Jerry Holton Campaign Song - Jerry L Holton for County Commissioner (Jerome Idaho) © Copyright 2026, Jeff A Pierson
Original Lyrics © Copyright 2026, Jeff A Pierson
**Introduction & Background Summary** Jerome County Commissioners and the Jerome County Planning and Zoning Commission are currently conside
What if the most important decisions shaping your life were made at a table you'll never be invited to — and sealed with a ritual you've never heard of? It is an interesting subject… sometimes a rabbit hole, but still interesting.
A Critical Examination of Imagery, Theology, and Political Mysticism in a Contemporary Song of Warning
Original Lyris (C) 2026, Jeff A Pierson
https://www.facebook.com/watch/?v=1560517375054632
A Thought Experiment on Revolution, Acceleration, and Misallocated Development
This essay is a thought experiment, not a forecast. It does not claim that the present moment will replicate the French Revolution, nor does it predict a comparable collapse, violence, or political upheaval. Its purpose is narrower and more disciplined. It uses the concept of revolution as an analytical lens to examine patterns of unrestrained, misdirected development and the risks that emerge when acceleration outruns judgment.
The genesis of this comparison lies in a recurring historical dynamic rather than in any single event. Revolutions, whether political, economic, or technological, tend to share structural traits. They concentrate resources rapidly, reward speed over stability, elevate abstraction over constraint, and treat skepticism as obstruction. When development becomes unmoored from purpose, scale, or long-term stewardship, it often produces impressive outputs that age badly and collapse under their own weight.
By placing the current AI boom alongside the French Revolution, this essay is not asserting equivalence. It is asking whether the same underlying forces, namely overcommitment, institutional rigidity, and the illusion that momentum itself confers legitimacy, are present in a different form. The comparison is intended to clarify thinking, not to dramatize outcomes.
Read in that spirit, what follows is an exploration of patterns, not prophecies. It is an exercise in restraint, using history to test assumptions about progress, resource allocation, and the cost of building faster than we understand.
The parallel between the French Revolution and the present AI boom is not ideological. It is structural. It concerns acceleration, misallocation, and the belief that rapid change justifies itself. Late eighteenth-century France was already hollowed out economically before the revolution began. The state poured enormous resources into court culture, military expansion, and administrative complexity while its productive base stagnated. Institutions grew heavier even as reality shifted beneath them. When crisis arrived, France responded not with measured reform but with frantic reconstruction, consuming labor, capital, and lives to erect new systems that often proved obsolete before they stabilized.
The current AI boom exhibits a similar pattern of overcommitment to transient advantage. Vast amounts of capital, energy, water, land, rare earths, and human labor are being concentrated into compute infrastructure optimized for models, architectures, and assumptions that may be superseded within months. Like pre-revolutionary France’s investment in rigid institutions, today’s AI buildout favors scale and speed over adaptability. These systems are expensive, physically rooted, and slow to repurpose, even as the technology they serve evolves at a pace that undermines long-term return.
In both periods, speed becomes the governing virtue. Revolutionary France attempted to rebuild society faster than it could define legitimacy or stability. The AI boom is attempting to industrialize intelligence faster than it can define durable use, moral boundaries, governance, or social cost. The imperative is not to build wisely but to build first. That imperative produces waste. Revolutionary assemblies, constitutions, and committees were created and discarded in rapid succession. In the AI sector, entire stacks of chips, training pipelines, software frameworks, and data strategies are already being replaced or abandoned before they amortize their cost.
Another shared trait is abstraction detached from material constraint. French revolutionaries spoke in universal ideals while ignoring food supply, human psychology, institutional memory, and the limits of force. The AI boom speaks in abstractions such as inevitability, general intelligence, and transformation while downplaying physical realities such as power grids, water scarcity, workforce displacement, local land use, and community strain. In both cases, dissent is framed not as prudence but as resistance to progress. Skeptics are treated as obstacles rather than sentinels.
There is also a common moral inversion. Revolutionary France increasingly treated momentum as legitimacy. Because change was unstoppable, it was assumed to be justified. The AI boom risks the same error. Acceleration is mistaken for wisdom. Adoption is mistaken for value. Scale is mistaken for permanence. Resources are consumed to produce systems optimized for yesterday’s assumptions, leaving societies exposed when the next technological or regulatory shift renders those investments stranded.
The lesson of the French Revolution is not that revolutions always fail, but that unrestrained acceleration creates fragility masked as progress. When development outruns comprehension, institutions lose coherence. When resources are consumed faster than they can be replenished or redirected, resilience disappears. France paid for that fragility in blood and collapse. The AI boom, if misdirected, is more likely to pay in economic shock, infrastructure stress, environmental strain, and a landscape littered with obsolete monuments to speed over stewardship.
This thought experiment does not argue against AI. It argues against haste without restraint. History suggests that societies that confuse velocity with virtue eventually discover that what was built fastest is often what must be dismantled first.
By all means, let move forward with AI and possibly even some regulation, but let's do it wisely, not stifling innovation and not outpacing resources or destroying local communities and their environment and culture.
The Story of Boom Town
Benton’s Boom Town (1928) captures that conviction in paint. The work was inspired by his travels through Oklahoma and Texas during the oil rush. He had witnessed small towns explode overnight with drilling rigs, mud, and money. In Boom Town, muscular workers labor under a violent, swirling sky as oil derricks rise around them. The scene is alive with motion but devoid of peace. Every figure seems strained, and every line bends under tension.
The painting is not just about oil. It is about the moral cost of unrestrained progress. Benton saw the oil fields as symbols of America’s growing obsession with speed, expansion, and control, what he called “the mania of progress without roots.” The same ambition that built the derricks also consumed the landscape and the people. The boom brought wealth, but it also brought waste, speculation, and ruin when the wells ran dry.
Through exaggerated forms and stormy colors, Benton turned a scene of industry into a warning. The land trembles under the weight of man’s ambition, and the workers, though strong, seem trapped within it. One year after he finished the painting, the stock market crashed, and the boom turned to collapse.
For Benton, Boom Town was more than art; it was prophecy. He understood that the American dream, when severed from moral restraint, becomes a fever. His painting stands as a timeless caution against the kind of growth that forgets the ground it stands on. In that sense, Benton’s nationalism was not about pride but about preservation, the belief that a nation must remember its people, its land, and its limits if it hopes to endure.
His art, his politics, and his moral vision all pointed to the same truth: freedom must be rooted in virtue, and progress must be guided by conscience. Without those anchors, the nation he loved would become like the scene he painted in Boom Town, restless, powerful, and dangerously close to losing its soul.