We reject the boot on the face. We choose bare feet on the earth. They told us war is peace. We answer: peace is the dance of tribes around the fire. They told us freedom is slavery. We answer: freedom is the body anointed with plants, roots, oils, and ancestral memory. They told us ignorance is strength. We answer: strength is knowing who we are, where we come from, and what we carry forward. — The Balms — In a world of plastic uniformity, we craft in bamboo. In a system of chemicals, we return to hemp, seed, soil. Every jar is not just skin-care — it is soul-care, a ritual in your palm, a quiet defiance against the machine. — The Ancestors — They tried to erase the past. We resurrect it. The roots below us are not forgotten — they pulse with memory, with blood, with fire. To know your ancestors is to remember that you are not a number in a file. You are a story. You are a lineage. — The Tribe — The Party isolates. We gather. The screen divides. We share bread. The cage closes. We build gardens. We are not consumers of freedom. We are co-creators of it. — Our Oath — We will not bow to Newspeak. We will not let our minds shrink. We will not let the memory of earth, of roots, of laughter, be erased. We choose ritual over routine. We choose art over propaganda. We choose tribe over fear. We choose love over Big Brother. Hempenology is not just a brand. It is the counter-spell to 1984. It is the medicine of ancestors, the rebellion of rituals, the declaration that we are still human. Bare feet on earth, forever.