Desert Thrones — Part IV
The Souls of Fremen, the Sietchheart of Every County
The Voice of the Poor Made Flesh
“They thought the desert empty. But the desert was watching. And from every grain of sand, a whisper grew into thunder.” - the Princess Iruloff
America is not an empire.
It is a parable.
A parable told by the poor.
A dream sown by exiles, rebels, freedmen, and saints.
A covenant broken and reborn, again and again,
—until it became more idea than geography.
Deep Arrakis.
That is what the United States has become.
Not Washington. Not Wall Street. An idea.
In the dust. In the fields. As the townships. The counties.
The Poor.
Every county is a sietch.
Every faithful man is a fremen.
Every whisper of freedom is a spice chant to those who still hope in law and God.
The Spice of Deep Arrakis: Voice
In Dune, spice gave vision. In America, the spice is the tru voice. Not the voice of politicians or influence, but the voice of:
• the common sense preacher
• the waitress who prays
• the farmer who grows food
• the child who knows the presence of an Almighty Father
This voice is the Word made audible—
not always pure, often misguided, but true in yearning.
“Freedom,” she says.
“The Truth,” he says.
“No, you can’t do that to my child,” they say.
And yet they all mean the same thing: “I belong to Someone, and I will not bow to you.”
America was the Global Poor
America is the first sietch nation, the seed of the free scattered into every soil, built with just enough scattered regulations to maybe keep it that way. In this, she is still the platform of the poor’s cry:
• In South America, where preachers speak King James English in Pentecostal cadence.
• In Africa, where prosperity gospels echo the remnants of the Declaration.
• In Asia, where VPNs deliver sermons through firewalls.
• In Europe, where freedom fighters write in English, and even rebels quote Jefferson.
And now—through augmented intelligence—this cry has a new dimension:
The fremen are online. They don’t all look the same. They don’t speak in unison. But they are awake. They are learning. They are remembering. They are sharing what cannot be taxed.
“And in the days of these kings the God of heaven will set up a kingdom which shall never be destroyed…” (Daniel 2:44)
The Sietch is no longer hidden.
It is everywhere. The kings don’t understand it. The universities can’t contain it. The banks can’t buy it. Because while this kingdom of freedom is not to be confused with Christianity, and while Christianity is the only true freedom, freedom is a fact that cannot be:
• located on a map.
• limited by a party.
• chained to a building.
• dependent on a preacher.
• governed by a copyright.
Freedom, for man, by instinct, moves by memory. “They can keep down some, but they can’t keep down all.” The poor know this. That’s how they survive. That’s why they go on.
And their rage grows in silence, until it explodes in fire.
Judgment of the Tru
The irony: the more the American empire collapses, the more globally the American voice rises. Because “freedom” is as much a matter of natural law to the heart of a man as is “money,” and freedom more so, until a man, of course, has accepted his slavery.
That not all men are Fremen is another lesson of the story. Not all men are willing to die. Not all men are willing to be mocked. Not all men intend to multiply. Not all men are a legend to themselves.
Not all men are able to eat the bread of remembrance.
“These are the ones who come out of great tribulation…” (Rev. 7:14)
The Fremen need no flag, for the flag or every man is worthy of its own significance. A free man need only a sietch, a knife, and then, if he intends to live a while longer, he may also entertain the company of a woman.
