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Sometimes, dwelling on the past, I grow maudlin, remembering the things that were and things that might never be. I had hopes that the future would bring a brighter world, that the people might realize beyond all expectations the things that are most important. That knowledge trumps faith, and that hope triumphs over fear.
The cruel and cold eighties, dominated by greed and artiface, could only succumb to a kinder, gentler world where humanity might hold sway. I'd hoped that as the old guard fell, it would be replaced by the people who'd known what it was like to "Come Together."
Though I too gasped in shock when I heard of John Lennon's blood staining the New York pavement, I hoped that it would galvanize people into remembering what the man stood for, and might lead us towards lasting peace.
But, alas, it was not to be. Instead we got Iran/Contra and a cabal much like our current one, that circled the wagons and pretended ignorance when ignorance was, indeed, impossible. I hoped that revelations would lead more people to question the status quo, to wonder if we were actually being served by our "leaders" or, rather, we were being "served up" instead.
For a brief, shining moment, it looked as though maybe the people had come alive, and the disquieting veil of sleep had lifted, for a man gained the White House who, for all his personal failings, genuinely seemed to respect humanity, and, as such, might be able to lead us into a new kind of prosperity.
But the old guard had not passed on so much as slipped into the shadows like venomous serpents, coiling about the shoulders of those members of a new cabal, whispering into their ears and leading them into a dark fever of hunger and avarice. A man named after a small amphibian, of all things, bringing to mind cold puddles and wet hollows, led a revolution to cripple this man, this leader, and steal from us any chance of seeing a better future.
Now, nearly two decades later, we see the legacy all of this has left us. A President who confuses himself with a King, a congress that can't see which way to jump, and a populace too easily deluded by talking heads who thrive on pretense and misdirection.
When I was born, our young men were half a world away, dying in a jungle they should never have seen. Now, forty years later, our young men (and women, this time) are half a world away, dying in a desert they should never have seen.
It is as though our American brothers and sisters haven't learned a damn thing. Of course, one might argue that it took centuries of war and, finally, a war of almost mythic proportions, to teach the Europeans the folly of allowing themselves to be used like that, but I can only look at our country and pull myself out of the pit of despair with great effort.
When will WE learn? We cannot allow these creatures to push us here and there, play upon our fears and hopes with such casual and cynical disregard. We cannot continue to allow them to turn us against one another, using our fears as levers to make us move as they would have us move. Our enemies, as ever, are not one another, but those who would use us for their own ends. It was true a thousand years ago and it is true now.
Anyone who points out our differences rather than pointing out our similarities should be listened to with a skeptical ear, and never should they be allowed to make their case without the sharpest questions being asked of them. And those whose job it is to ask the questions, those in the media, and those who claim to represent us, must either ask those questions, or step aside so that we may do it in their place.
It is not only our right to put to the question anyone who might lead us astray, it is our duty. Not just for ourselves, but for the very lives of our children, brothers, and sisters they lift and wield as if forged of steel rather than soft flesh, fragile hearts, and vulnerable minds.
Sometimes it is all I can do not to weep for us all, for what we lost, for what we were denied, and for what we have abandoned.
What I wouldn't do for a real reason to cheer.
What indeed.
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