“Ask not what your country can do for you—ask what you can do for your country.”
And for decades, American men have understood the assignment:
At eighteen, you fill out a Selective Service card.
You put your name on a list that says, in plain English, “If the government needs bodies, yours may be one of them.”
No trending hashtags. No sobbing monologues. No “I’m literally shaking.”
Just a pen, a form, and the quiet understanding that citizenship comes with weight.
But now—now—we are told the republic is on the brink of collapse because the SAVE Act might require documentation when someone changes their legal name.
Not a draft.
Not a war.
Not a summons.
A document.
(Read in JFK's cadence
My fellow Americans: we have become a nation that can stomach the possibility of conscription…
but cannot survive the possibility of paperwork.
We have confused inconvenience with oppression.
We have mistaken a filing cabinet for fascism.
And we have replaced civic seriousness with performative panic—staged not for the truth, but for the applause.
So let us be clear: if your freedom is defeated by a photocopy, it was never tyranny that threatened you—
it was adulthood.
And for decades, American men have understood the assignment:
At eighteen, you fill out a Selective Service card.
You put your name on a list that says, in plain English, “If the government needs bodies, yours may be one of them.”
No trending hashtags. No sobbing monologues. No “I’m literally shaking.”
Just a pen, a form, and the quiet understanding that citizenship comes with weight.
But now—now—we are told the republic is on the brink of collapse because the SAVE Act might require documentation when someone changes their legal name.
Not a draft.
Not a war.
Not a summons.
A document.
(Read in JFK's cadence
My fellow Americans: we have become a nation that can stomach the possibility of conscription…
but cannot survive the possibility of paperwork.
We have confused inconvenience with oppression.
We have mistaken a filing cabinet for fascism.
And we have replaced civic seriousness with performative panic—staged not for the truth, but for the applause.
So let us be clear: if your freedom is defeated by a photocopy, it was never tyranny that threatened you—
it was adulthood.
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