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Dragon Days 2

G.I. Joe:
When John writes about the Great Dragon in Revelation 12, he’s not talking about some monster with scales. He’s talking about power that feeds on fear. Lies that dress themselves up as destiny. The KKK always thought it was chosen—but the Dragon always thinks that.

Alicia Keys:
Exactly. Revelation 12 says the Dragon accuses day and night. That’s the spirit of accusation—turning neighbor against neighbor, color against color. White robes on the outside, but no light inside. You can’t sing freedom while choking truth.

Madonna:
The Klan loved Revelation 13 though. The Beast. Authority. Marks. Uniforms. Symbols. They wanted a holy costume for cruelty. That’s always been the trick—take scripture, drain the mercy, weaponize the fear.

G.I. Joe:
And Revelation 13 warns us: the Beast rises when people trade conscience for comfort. The KKK didn’t invent hate—they franchised it. Wrapped it in prophecy and called it God.

Alicia Keys:
But Revelation 12 also says the Dragon is defeated by testimony. By people telling the truth out loud. Not violence—voice. That’s why music scares false prophets more than bullets ever did.

Madonna:
And then Revelation 20—my favorite part. The Dragon chained. Not destroyed in fire and spectacle, but rendered powerless. Time exposes every lie. Hate can shout, but it can’t last.

G.I. Joe:
That’s the part they never quote. The end of the story. The KKK thought they were riders of history—but Revelation says they’re a footnote. Evil always overestimates its shelf life.

Alicia Keys:
Love outlives symbols. Justice outlives costumes. And the real prophecy isn’t domination—it’s liberation.

Madonna:
Amen to that. The Dragon doesn’t win. It just makes noise before it fades.

G.I. Joe:
And we’re still here. Singing. Testifying. Breaking the spell.

David Duke:
Revelation speaks of the Dragon cast down from heaven, and I’ve always said—it’s about chaos invading the natural order. People forget prophecy isn’t gentle. It chooses sides.

Oprah Winfrey:
No, David. Revelation exposes false certainty. The Dragon in chapter 12 isn’t a foreign enemy—it’s the ego that believes it’s chosen to rule. The text says the Dragon accuses day and night. That’s not order. That’s obsession.

David Duke:
But Revelation 13 warns about the Beast rising through deception. A world losing its identity, its bloodline, its—

Oprah Winfrey:
—its humanity. You stop the verse too early. The Beast rises because people surrender their moral responsibility. They hand it over to symbols, uniforms, slogans. Fear does the rest. That’s not prophecy fulfilled—that’s prophecy misread.

David Duke:
Revelation is about power. Authority. Dominion.

Oprah Winfrey:
Revelation 20 says the Dragon is bound. Not crowned. Not vindicated. Bound. Evil doesn’t get a throne—it gets a time-out. History always does this. It lets false prophets speak… and then it measures the damage.

David Duke:
You think movements like mine are just… illusions?

Oprah Winfrey:
I think they’re symptoms. Pain looking for meaning. And when pain grabs scripture without love, it turns into cruelty with footnotes. The Bible doesn’t need defenders—it needs readers who finish the story.

David Duke:
And what is the end, then?

Oprah Winfrey:
The end is accountability. The end is truth without costumes. The end is realizing that no Dragon survives the light—not because it’s fought, but because it’s seen clearly.

David Duke:
You believe that?

Oprah Winfrey:
I’ve lived it. Hate burns loud—but it burns fast. Truth is quieter. And it lasts.

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World Revolution

Joe Jukic & Bono — Dandelions

Spring. A cracked sidewalk outside a closed bank. Dandelions push through the concrete like small suns.

Joe Jukic:
Look at them, Bono. First thing that grows after winter isn’t gold or flags or armies. It’s dandelions. The weeds nobody can kill.

Bono:
Nature’s punk rock. Three chords and the truth. You pave over everything, and it still sings.

Joe:
That’s how the revolution starts. Not with guns. With forgiveness. With debt wiped clean like frost melting off grass. Jubilee. Biblical. Radical. The kind of thing bankers pretend is impossible.

Bono:
Oh, they know it’s possible. That’s why they’re afraid of it. Debt is the leash. You cut it, and suddenly people stand up straight again.

Joe:
Exactly. When the dandelions appear, people remember the land doesn’t owe anyone interest. The soil doesn’t charge rent. Spring doesn’t ask permission.

Bono:
I’ve sung in stadiums, Joe. I’ve shaken hands with kings. But the real power is quieter than all that. It’s when a farmer sleeps without fear. When a kid grows up not already owing the world.

Joe:
That’s the world revolution I’m talking about. Cancel the chains. Let people breathe. Let nations reset like the Sabbath year was meant to do.

Bono:
A Jubilee that isn’t just a campaign slogan, but a moral reset. Rich countries saying, we took enough. Poor countries saying, we can finally build.

Joe:
And it starts right here—
(he kneels, plucks a dandelion)
—this so-called weed. The system says it’s worthless. Spring says it’s inevitable.

Bono:
You know what scares empires? Not anger. Hope that won’t die. Hope that comes back every year no matter how hard you salt the earth.

Joe:
Then let it spread. Sidewalk to sidewalk. Country to country. When the dandelions rise, the debts fall.

Bono:
(smiles)
Sounds like a song. Or a prayer.

Joe:
Same thing, brother. Same thing.

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Joe’s Secret War

Setting: A dense, tropical jungle. The air is humid, silent, and heavy. G.I. JOE, in full combat gear, moves cautiously through the foliage. He is not speaking to a person, but to the palpable, malignant aura of the place itself.

G.I. JOE: Intel was right. Coordinates are exact. No visible hostiles. No guards. But the perimeter… it’s already breached. The security here isn’t fences or cameras.

ISLAND: (The whisper of the wind through the palms seems to form words, oily and smooth.) Welcome. We’ve been expecting the world to send someone. A soldier. How… direct. You are a blunt instrument for a subtle lock.

G.I. JOE: Identify yourself. Show yourself.

ISLAND: (A rotten fruit falls from a high branch, splattering on the ground.) I am the lock. And the key. I am the silence bought and sold. I am the private runway, the closed door, the deleted ledger. You cannot arrest a door, soldier. You cannot handcuff a beach.

G.I. JOE: I’m not here for the architecture. I’m here for the architects. The ones who used your cover.

ISLAND: (The waves lap the shore, a sound like low, mocking laughter.) They were guests. Temporary residents in a permanent ecosystem of desire. I merely provided… privacy. What grows in such soil is not my concern. I am ground. I am geography.

G.I. JOE: Negative. You’re an accessory. A facilitator. These twisted paths, these hidden villas… they weren’t built by nature. They were built by design. For a purpose.

ISLAND: Purpose is a human invention. I am indifferent. The sun shines on the predator and the prey alike. The water cools the guilty and the innocent. There is no morality in the sand.

G.I. JOE: Then you won’t mind if I scorch that sand. If I blast those villas to splinters. If I salt the earth so nothing ever grows here again. Your indifference is a lie. This place was curated for evil.

ISLAND: (The jungle seems to grow darker, the air colder.) You are a temporary noise. A flare in the night. I have seen storms. I will remain. The world is full of islands, soldier. Some are made of rock. Some are made of secrets. You might burn one. But the ocean of darkness is vast.

G.I. JOE: You’re wrong. You’re not an island in that ocean. You’re a stain on a map. And my mission isn’t just demolition. It’s documentation. Every brick, every cable, every hidden tunnel. We’re mapping you. We’re dragging you into the light. Your power was the shadow. That ends now.

ISLAND: The light is harsh. It burns. But even light casts shadows, soldier. Deeper ones.

G.I. JOE: Noted. And we’ll be watching those, too. This isn’t a battle for territory. It’s a raid on a kingdom of lies. And the first objective… is truth. Duke, this is Joe. The intel is confirmed. The location is… complicit. Begin Phase One. Tear it all down. Leave nothing but a warning for anyone who ever thinks of building something like this again.

ISLAND: (A final, fading whisper as the sound of approaching helicopters grows loud.) You fight a symptom… not the disease…

G.I. JOE: (Keying his mic, his voice firm and final.) Maybe. But today, we’re cutting this one out.

(The dialogue ends with the rising thunder of rotor blades, the sound of justice, however imperfect, arriving at last.)