They Are Not Yours to Sacrifice

By Vincent Cordova · 3/11/2026

I don't have all the answers. I don't pretend to. But I have eyes. I have a memory. And I have a heart that still works, which apparently puts me ahead of some people in power. Let me tell you what I see. The Pattern Every presidency. Every administration. Different faces, same script. We are told there's a threat. We are told we must act. We are told that sending young men and women thousands of miles from home to die in places they've never seen—that this is brave. That this is honorable. That this is necessary. And always, underneath it, something they don't say: oil. control. contracts. power. Iran is sovereign. So is every other country we've bombed, occupied, or destabilized in my lifetime. They have resources we want. They have leaders who won't bend the knee. So we call them threats. We call them evil. And we send children to fix a problem that grown men with suits and spreadsheets created. They are actively creating an underclass around the world for their psychopathic control. They are treating us in our own country the same way. The Occupiers in Our Own Land But let's be honest about something else. The same people who send our kids to die overseas? They've been occupying us too. Look at how they treat the poor. Look at how they treat the working class. Look at the paywalls. Can't afford healthcare? Die slower, away from public view. Can't afford education? Hope you like debt. Hope you like being told your whole life that if you'd just worked harder, you wouldn't be struggling—while they make it harder and harder to get ahead. Education should be the great equalizer. Instead, it's a gate. A toll booth—and we got many. Pay up or stay ignorant. Stay ignorant so you don't ask the hard questions. Stay exhausted so you don't show up at protests. Stay divided so you never notice that your neighbor struggles just like you. That's not leadership. That's occupation. What Kind of Person Does This? I've been thinking about that word: psychopath. We use it casually sometimes. But look at the definition: lack of empathy. Inability to see others as fully human. Willingness to sacrifice anyone and anything for personal gain. Now look at the people who profit from war. Who profits from privatized healthcare. Who profits from student debt. Who sits on boards of companies that extract resources from poor communities and call it "job creation." If the shoe fits. They are going to answer for this. Not to me. Not to you. Not to some court that they own. But to something bigger. To the Creator. To the universe. To whatever force made us and gave us this spark of life. And on that day, someone is going to ask them: Why did you send my children to die for your bank account? Why have you participated in hurting my children? Why have you used your job as a reason to hurt my children? Are you okay???? I don't want to be anywhere near them when they must answer that nor do I want to be around them now. However, I would like to look them in their face and ask was it worth it? We are going to move forward together, no revenge, no hate though it is felt around the world. We cannot move forward and bring the same if we want true abundance and evolution together globally. Their accountability is going to teach our children everything and how to protect the next generations from this ever happening again, the world is going to be the observer this time, to make sure our kids are protected. We are all protected. All Lives Actually Matter Not as a slogan. Not as a hashtag. The child in Tehran matters as much as the child in Toledo. The mother in Gaza matters as much as the mother in Georgia. The father in Ukraine, the grandmother in Yemen, the teenager in the Congo with cobalt in his hands that ends up in your phone—they all matter. Every single one. EVERY SINGLE ONE......... When we accept that some lives are worth less than others, we've already lost. When we let them divide us by nationality, by religion, by race, by which news channel we watch—we're playing their game. They want us fighting each other. They want us distracted. They want us tired. They want us uneducated. They want us subjects to their control, They want us broke. They want blind. They want us dead - even your children. You don't create a paywall to education when you want smart people. And the ones that do have an education, make it through to become master observers. Because tired people don't organize. Distracted people don't ask questions. Divided people never notice that the real war isn't between countries—it's between the people and the systems that feed on them. We Have to Move Together I said earlier that I don't have all the answers. I meant it. But I know this: we can't keep doing things the same way. We need the whole world to move together. Not armies. Not governments. People. Regular people in every country, every neighborhood, every language, waking up to the same truth. That we've been played. That the people sending our kids to die don't care about us any more than they care about the kids on the other side of the bombs. That the only way out is together. True evolution—real human progress—doesn't come from better weapons or stronger borders. It comes from seeing each other. Really seeing. And refusing to let them turn us against one another anymore. Protect Our Kids That's the bottom line for me. That's where I start and end. The kids playing in the street right now. The ones in school learning that their country is always right, always good, always justified with a foot on their neck when they are older to remember that. The ones who will be old enough to enlist in a few years, or old enough to have their names read on a scroll at a funeral. They are not yours to sacrifice. Not for oil. Not for power. Not for some general's legacy or some politician's reelection. Their lives matter. All of them. Everywhere. And until the people in charge understand that—really understand it, deep in whatever passes for a soul—they can keep their speeches. Keep their flags. Keep their wars. I'm done. They Are Building a Global Underclass Something that needs to be repeated until everyone sees it: We are creating an underclass around the world to hurt and use. Think about it. Look at the map not as countries and borders, but as zones of extraction and zones of consumption. Who gets the resources? Oil from the Middle East. Cobalt from Congo. Lithium from South America. Rare earth minerals from everywhere. It flows one direction—toward wealth, toward power, toward the same few hands. Who gets the weapons? The countries that try to keep their resources. The communities that get in the way. The people who refuse to be used. Who gets the debt? Whole nations strangled by loans they never asked for, from institutions that knew they couldn't pay back. Students crushed by tuition for the chance at a job that doesn't exist anymore. Families drowning in medical bills for the crime of getting sick. Who gets the wars? The poor. Always the poor. The ones who enlist because the recruiter was the only job offer they got. The ones who die in countries they can't find on a map, for reasons no one can explain, while the people who started it never miss a meal. A Factory of Disposable People This isn't accidental. This is architecture. When you can't afford education, you're easier to control. When you're drowning in debt, you can't afford to protest. When you're fighting to survive, you don't have time to organize. When you're desperate, you'll take any job, any deployment, any risk. They've built a machine that grinds people down and calls the pieces "freedom" or "opportunity" or "sacrifice." That foot you feel on your neck is being applied globally by psychopaths that don't care what child dies—if they have control. And if you're born in the wrong country? If your land has something they want? Then you're not even underclass—you're obstacle. Removable. Collateral damage. We saw it in Iraq. We saw it in Libya. We see it wherever resources meet resistance. The people in the way are framed as terrorists, as threats, as problems to be solved—when the only problem is that they exist on top of something someone else wants. The Same Game Everywhere Here's what took me too long to understand: it's the same game everywhere. The banker in New York and the warlord in whatever country we're bombing this year—they're playing on the same team. Different uniforms. Same owner. The private equity firm that buys up housing and jacks up rents? Same people who invest in defense contractors. The politicians who cut food stamps? Same ones who vote for endless war funding. The news channels that keep us fighting about culture wars? Owned by the same billionaires who profit from both sides. We're so busy looking left and right, fighting each other, that we never look up. And up there, they're laughing. Because as long as we're divided—by race, by religion, by nationality, by which team we root for—they can keep building their underclass. Keep extracting. Keep sending kids to die for dollars. What Do We Do? I don't have a ten-point plan. I don't have a manifesto. I have a question: What happens if we stop playing? What happens if we refuse to see each other as enemies? What happens if the kid in Baltimore and the kid in Baghdad realize they've been fed the same lies about each other? What happens if we start moving together? They've built walls between us—borders, languages, flags, news channels. But those walls are made of paper. They only stand because we believe in them. The underclass isn't a country. It's not a race. It's not a religion. It's anyone, anywhere, who has been deemed useful but disposable. And there are billions of us. Billions. Imagine if we all looked up at the same time. They Will Answer They will answer to our Creator. I don't know what you believe about God, or the universe, or what comes after. But I believe in justice. I believe that actions have consequences, even if the consequences take a long time to arrive. And I believe that anyone who builds wealth on the bones of other people's children—whether through war, through poverty wages, through unpayable debt, through preventable disease—will one day have to face what they've done. Maybe in this life. Maybe in the next. But it's coming. The question is whether we'll be part of making it happen, or just waiting for it to arrive. Moving Forward Together That's the only way. Not one country leading. Not one ideology winning. Not one group saving another. Together. Recognizing that the underclass is global because the system is global. Recognizing that the kid in Tehran and the kid in Texas are both being prepared for the same altar. We stop it by seeing each other. By talking across borders. By refusing the lies they feed us. A blog is a start. A conversation is a start. Looking at the person next to you and seeing an ally instead of an enemy—that's a start. Keep going. Keep speaking. Keep asking the questions they don't want asked. You're not alone in this. Not even close. If this landed somewhere in you, share it. Pass it on. Not because I need my name out there—leave it off if you want. But because the only way we break the pattern is by talking to each other. Directly. Honestly. Without the filter. We have to move forward together. There's no other way.