Wednesday, March 16, 2016
Just to Recap: I'm No Farmer
Let's not kid ourselves. We choose the fear monger not by accident; he is openly wrapped in a message we hear quite clearly. We choose him anyway, and taunt the man who prays to God as he steps unchosen from the podium.
We choose the pragmatist over the absurd idealist. She who, for her troubles, is not unique in subordinating her own ambitions for her husband's gain. There's nothing 'first' about that, actually.
The chosen waver, align and realign, fuse and then detach, so as to poll and champion. 'Evolving' they call it. There are other words.
Closer to home we allow the vagrant, absentee, power-sick phenoms of our local legislature to coast largely uncontested toward yet another term of paid incompetence. Then we parade a righteous outrage.
Now this. A good and fine American brother, after a
career comprised of exercised restraint for the greater good of his country, is told he cannot be heard, he cannot be considered because his patron is not in favor. The country should wait.
The country should wait? For what?
The democracy has been lamed by its own success. A generation or two removed from the hunger, cold, and fright of our immigrant experiences we no longer understand or appreciate the fragility of our experiment. It requires constant care, nurture, and tend. We must sacrifice for it, we must treat it as treasure. Instead, we are weak. We are not willing to be hungry or cold - not for our own gain and certainly not for another's. We won't even be bothered to hear a man speak.
By our choices we are redefining America, what it means to be American. The bitterest of ironies is knowing we are the architects of our own failed harvest. Barely we vote, hardly we care, we speak to one another in spits and ill-informed memes, no one listens anyway.
And so we reap. I dare say we should find the fruit too sour to take.
Posted by A Writer, Of Course at 11:27 AM