In the resurrection of life are memories of terrible loss, often blinding us to the sometimes, subtle inspiration to carry on. Is reason, wisdom whispering in our ear: resist those who speak lightly of war, while hailing the chief of false prophecies, oblivious to the Cause Célèbre preceding The Pieta.
Descendants of generations of Passover, once again find humanity choosing between man’s inhumanity to man and the calculations by madmen.
Again, the world is in the hands of a composition of despots, Putin, Assad, Erdoğan, Kim Jong-Un and Trump, all as dishonest and unstable as they are perilously dangerous. Senior citizens have witnessed reconstruction after man-made destruction, but the magnitude of both the insanity and efficiency of war has evolved well beyond even the Bush/Cheney Mushroom Cloud inflammation of bloodshed.
If dominion over earth is our commission, then we must resurrect the balance found in peaceful co-existence, before the pride of leaders induces the fall of nations. Our immense power is the courage of true human kindness, not the ashes into which demagogues lacking conscience, human decency, reigning without roots in the reason of deep thinking, would entomb us.
If we can but divine this reality check: the first shall be last and the last shall be first, we could escape the betrayal of, all for one and one for all, by the deception of America First.
It is in revelation that we discover the truth — most loss on earth is caused by humans who have lost sight of life’s greatest gift: the opportunity to love, to share and to prosper in peaceful ensemble — little is beyond the reach of those with the vision and desire to see and progress forward embracing world peace.
Arguably, Donald Trump has some competition for being the most self-serving, needy of praise, inept President ever to occupy the White House, but with a lust for being the idol of mesmerized idolaters, while hovering his middle finger over nuclear launch codes, he is more terrible than any Ivan or Cesar – indoctrinating a child’s White House Easter Egg Hunt with, stronger and better…than ever before rhetoric, sad.
Emma Morano was born November 29, 1899. In 2017, between Good Friday and Easter Sunday, on the 86th day of the Trump Administration, she died at the age of 117. She lived to see humankind advance from ox drawn carts to automobiles; from Kitty Hawk to the Moon. Ms. Morano survived Mussolini, two World Wars, The Korean Conflict and an attempted assassination of Pope John Paul II.
Emma Morano lived to hear of Trump’s election escalating global stress levels, threatening a new nuclear age Korean War, while seemingly diminishing both the need to hope for reversing Climate Change and imprisoning science behind the walls of Reactionary Nostalgia.
She lived to see a black looking president on TV and a TV personality – all Birther atwitter in the bewitching hours of alternative facts – lusting to bury the memory of his able predecessor.
Living eighty-four years longer than Jesus of Nazareth, Emma Morano undoubtedly knew, boisterous rattling of sabers, gesticulating war, defying The Ten Commandments, can deafen humanity to the world’s heart pounding memories of the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis – and even perhaps, short-circuit American conscientiousness to Russian connectors Paul Manafort and Carter Page.
Unlike Martha Raddatz, not all of us can bear witness to a Trump epiphany, following Assad’s horrific Siren Gas attack on his own people – Sean Spicer’s historical misinformation, notwithstanding.
Beware, perched in-between Palm and Easter Sundays, an ancient giant observes the mad moves and moods of those having no idea how to orchestrate an end, without a finale.
Indeed, it is for us, to extract from any tomb of ignorance, the discernment of the marriage between Resurrection, Revelation and the joy of discovery in the laughter of children – for what will it profit America if we bomb the s**t out of any soul only to lose the whole world?
In the 21st century beginning man said, law and order prisons have little law and order; Health Insurers desert ACA and it’s Obamacare’s fault; millions elect to bypass the ballot in favor of passing remote, drinks and meds, in a party as barbaric as Fortress America, mushroomed – but hooked, we can’t get enough of the addiction du Jour: Donald Trump.
And man said, the info noise became too much of too little, high on the useless and out-foxed on overdosing, he declared, this land is my land to border up.
Following the echo of his own voice, the man pumped smog, pushing haze, seeking a Shining Light upon a Hill – straining to save his family’s past, since God and country failed to exhale the final puff of the rockets’ red glare – now but ambers pulsating from middle America.
And the man said, if you could see America the Beautiful through my eyes – the paleface country of thee I sing – excluding pretend citizens fleeing menial tasks during the Great Republican banker induced Recession, when healthy Pharmaceuticals most needed your insurance desperation and deplorable wages acceptance – you’d see, it’s the white man’s Land of the Free.
Placing his faith in a Home of the Brave that guaranteed, against all odds, liberty and freedom for working white middle Class families, cherishing an inbred pride in the exceptional prowess and international reputation of kind superiority over our little brown brothers, even when suffering the nightmarish pretense that black lives matter as much as women kept in their place – the man said, it’s Alt-Right and good.
Limping through the maze of what is now, the man denies all capsulized dreams drifting diversity, divisively dividing divinity: Climate Change is a Chinese trick, meant to devalue traditional blue-collar employment. Liberals tried to redefine America by electing a president, who looked like no other – the man’s sustainability: outsiders chanting, jobs, jobs, jobs making America great again.
Narrowly limping on, until the reality of a reality show host firing off executive orders between Mar-a-Lago visits clashed with the man’s desires to defeat a secret Obama government in exile, while clinging to his Obamacare.
Trump Tower now in sight, so intoxicating, the man hurls in the rising tide, slurring his pledge, Party before Country. Now the root of all evil has been successfully injected into the national vein of wisdom to, follow the money.
The man, breathing heavily now through darkening city streets, dragging his feet to the sunny side to avoid intersections engaged in the art of the drug deal, fears the bankruptcy of any chance to surmount the bull of Wall Street – where soccer moms and hockey women are beckoned to be abused, underpaid and serve as generational examples: the female of the species couldn’t be allowed to diminish man’s place in the sun – for though a girl, bronze ensconced, may reach for the highlife, she’s devalued by Groper-in-Chief worshipers.
The man, with raised right hand, swears in proclamation: Mike Pence, Bannon, Priebus, Flynn, Devin Nunes, Mick Mulvaney, Paul Ryan, Manafort, Gowdy, Carter Page, Idaho’s Larry Craig, and Florida’s Mark Foley – are America!
Earth’s comeback, a frigid winter blast in his face, warning through clinched ice teeth: Liberals have left behind no one, save those who chose to embrace the shadow of towering falsehoods.
Stunned by the Siberian twist, the man blinks in disbelief, wondering for a moment, if rust, coal and oil jobs have reached the point of no return.
Nonetheless, brandishing his cane, the man waves off the inclement claim, assuring himself Alex Jones can resurrect him with ping pong and a Rush refill. Limping bent over under reigning pellets of burning hail, the man returns to The Hill.
When we allow demoralizing fear of truth to downgrade our nation, we are dealers dealing grief to those individuals self-deposed from the ranks of majority to the educationally and politically depressed – aided and abetted by the very same aging conservative male Republicans for whom they voted – thus are the poor and working Middle Class extinguished to extinction.