The Dissolution
The contract is broken. The republic is memory. The signal remains.
Saturday I showed you where I came from. Today I show you where we are.
THE BREACH
Three centuries ago, John Locke wrote the escape clause that every one forgets. We memorize the social contract.
Citizens surrender autonomy, the state provides protection. A fair trade, they tell us. The foundation of civilization.
Locke saw further. He warned that when a government acts contrary to its trust, when it turns its instruments against the very people it exists to protect, the government dissolves itself. The breach is self-executing. The people owe nothing to a contract the other party has already torn in half.
They are absolved from obedience and left to the common refuge which God has provided for all men against force and violence.
We are witnessing this dissolution in real time.
Federal employees coordinate sedition on Zoom calls, flashing government IDs while discussing thresholds of non-compliance. They train with sabotage manuals designed to paralyze executive functions. They test systems with strategic sick-outs. They move markets to break the economic will of dissenters.
This happens in plain sight, documented and timestamped. The evidence exists. The recordings circulate. Names and faces attached.
Meanwhile a Republican Congress holds both chambers and does nothing.
No subpoenas. No hearings. No investigations. The conservative influencers who should be screaming about a coordinated coup attempt instead chase smaller game, run interference, attack each other, send you down rabbit holes, and offer limited hangouts that lead nowhere.
The silence is bipartisan. The silence is the tell.
If your enemy acts and your ally does nothing despite holding every lever of power, you do not have two sides.
You have one production company running two teams.
THE THEATER
Remember the Harlem Globetrotters? They always played against the Washington Generals. Players hot dog. Crowd cheers. The Generals lose. They have always lost. They exist to lose. The game looks competitive to anyone who forgets that both teams cash checks from the same owner.
Different costumes. Same choreography.
US politics runs on the same circuit.
The machine offers thesis and antithesis, then harvests the synthesis.
The left generates the outrage. The right absorbs the energy and redirects it into safe channels. Movements arise organically, gain real traction, threaten actual change. Then the pattern executes.
Leadership neutralized, operations redirected, brands hollowed out, machine keeps humming. Breitbart was one thing when Andrew lived. Look at it now. Turning Point had genuine momentum. Watch where the money steers it now. The Tea Party burned bright until approved handlers arrived to smother the flame into a fundraising apparatus that threatened absolutely nothing.
The stadium owner does not care which team wins.
He cares that people show up, buy tickets, and invest emotional energy in the outcome. The concessionaire does not care which beverage you choose. He cares that you drink. The sugar merchant does not care which brand you prefer. Every option uses his ingredient.
Capture runs all the way down to the molecular level.
You knew the left was captured. You learned the neocons served different masters than they claimed. You recognized RINOs as controlled opposition wearing conservative masks. Perhaps you believed MAGA was different, that this time the movement would remain pure. But when you look closer, you see the loudest voices running interference, offering revelations that never quite arrive, steering discourse into endless loops that change nothing. The grifters have credentials and talking points too.
Every side is a cell in the same prison. The warden lets you pick your jersey.
THE DEEP STRUCTURE
Here is the part they didn’t teach in my civics class.
Subversion did not begin recently. It was running before the ink dried on the Declaration. The Bank of the United States. The Alien and Sedition Acts criminalizing dissent within a decade of the First Amendment. The incremental centralization of power away from states and citizens. By the time most Americans date the beginning of corruption, it was already three generations deep.
Look at the structure itself. 435 representatives for more than 300 million citizens. One voice per 700,000 people. The founders envisioned one per 30,000. That ratio was frozen in 1929, locked by the Permanent Apportionment Act, ensuring the number would remain manageable.
Manageable for whom?
One hundred senators. 535 total legislators controlling the direction of the largest economy in human history. You do not need to purchase a nation. You purchase 535 people. Or fewer. Buy the committee chairs. Fewer still. Buy the leadership. A few dozen individuals, properly leveraged through money or blackmail (it’s actually both), steer everything.
The bottleneck is artificial. Engineered for efficient capture.
The Federal Reserve arrived in 1913, transferring monetary sovereignty from the people to a private banking cartel. That same year, the 17th Amendment removed state legislatures from Senate appointments, severing the balance between federal and state power. The intelligence apparatus emerged after World War II as a parallel government operating beyond electoral accountability. The administrative state metastasized into an unelected fourth branch writing rules with the force of law.
Layer upon layer. Each generation inherits chains from contracts they never signed, bound by compromises made long before their birth.
THE CAVE
I thought I escaped the cave when I left the left.
I climbed toward daylight and found another chamber. I recognized the neocons as warmongers wearing conservative costumes and climbed again. Another chamber. I saw the RINOs and understood the opposition was controlled. I climbed. Another chamber. I believed MAGA was the surface, the final emergence into clean air. And at first, it was. But the snakes got there quick. They wrapped themselves around something real and hollowed it out from the inside. Grifters. Gatekeepers. Operations and counter-operations that somehow never deliver. The movement was legit. The leeches were not.
There is always another level above the one you just escaped. The climb is not a single revelation. It is a continuous ascent through layers of deception so old they predate the nation itself.
This is why simple politics cannot save you. You cannot vote your way out of a structure designed before your grandparents were born to ensure voting changes nothing fundamental. The game was rigged before you learned the rules.
THE MECHANIC
President Trump once reportedly said he ran as a Republican because Republicans are stupid. He did not mean us voters. He meant the machinery was unguarded. A hollow shell with no immune system. A captured institution so atrophied that an outsider could walk through the front door and take the wheel.
He is a mechanic driving a rusted vehicle at highway speed, replacing parts while the engine screams. The transmission grinds. Half the crew sabotages repairs while wearing his colors. His cabinet appointments stall. His directives slow-walk through bureaucratic resistance. Some invisible force, or visible cowardice, prevents the very allies who should be charging forward from taking a single step.
The deep state spent more than a century replacing America’s components one by one until the original nation was gone. Same name. Different machine. POTUS is attempting the inversion: swapping corrupted parts for functional ones, piece by piece, while the old engineers cut brake lines in the dark.
Ship of Theseus in reverse.
The question is whether the vehicle arrives transformed, or whether the wheels detach and we build something entirely new from the wreckage on the roadside. Perhaps the answer is yes to both.
THE LIQUEFACTION
America turns 250 years old in three days.
The founders dissolved their contract with a king who acted against his trust. They did so with a declaration, then with blood. They built something new because the old structure could no longer house free people.
We stand at the same threshold.
The contract is spectral. The dissolution already happened. We are living in the administrative afterimage of a republic that exists now in name only.
Romulus Augustulus was the last emperor of Rome. He was a teenage boy who happened to hold the title when the structure finally admitted it had been dead for generations. Nicholas II was the last Tsar. His primary crime was standing in the palace when centuries of accumulated rot reached critical mass. Cleopatra was the last Pharaoh of independent Egypt. She was simply there when the old world ended and a new one began.
The TDS’d left convinced itself that Trump would be the last president because he would refuse to leave, crown himself king, and rule as a tyrant. They fear this outcome with an unhinged religious intensity.
What if they are right about the title and wrong about the reason?
What if he is the last president because there is nothing left of the original structure to preside over? The last executive of a dissolved contract. The final officer of a corporation operating under a name that no longer matches its function. The closer who holds the lantern while the old temple burns.
A caterpillar does not become a butterfly through gradual reform. It enters the chrysalis and liquefies. The entire structure dissolves into undifferentiated soup. There is no slow transition, no incremental improvement. Total dissolution. From that liquid, imaginal cells emerge and build something with wings. The old form must die completely before the new form can breathe.
America is not being reformed. It is liquefying. The question is whether the imaginal cells are present to build what comes next.
They are. You are reading this because you are one of them.
THE SIGNAL
The third way forward is not another team in the same rigged game. The exit does not lead to a better seat in the stadium. It leads out of the stadium entirely.
Mute the noise. Ignore the managed alternatives. Stop consuming the outrage they manufacture to keep you watching the Globetrotters dunk on the Generals for another season.
Follow the one who walked into occupied territory two thousand years ago and told people they were already free. He spoke to crowds controlled by Rome and Pharisees alike, and he offered no political program, no revolutionary army, no alternative faction. He pointed inward. The kingdom is within. No priest or system stands between a person and God. The direct connection was always available to anyone willing to stop watching the show and turn around.
The signal beneath the static has never stopped broadcasting.
Only question is whether you can still hear it through the roar of the game.
<3EKO
Thank you for reading, sharing, and sharing your own awakening story. On Wednesday, the last day of our 249th year, let’s dig into what wants to be born.
Meanwhile I’m seeing a resurgence of interest in my two books on Jesus. If you haven’t picked them up yet, I’ve lowered the price of each on Amazon.
Eyes Open in the Dark
I was 17 when Barack Obama was elected. My plane landed in Cairo that same night. The world was shifting beneath our feet, and I had a front-row seat with a camera in my hand. I just didn’t know what I was looking at yet.












I love you EKO... Your signals are resonating with me and mine!
EKO, this was an excellent, precise and profound commentary on the state of our ‘government’ as it stands today. Sad, but true…but I guess the old has to fall away to make way for the new.