Edward Dorn, with special recognition to Stephen King (The Stand).
Boy…do we need help.
Optimism has been beaten into the ground by the insanity below our Canadian border. In my younger and admittedly, naïve years…I truly believed we were living in the Age of Horus and then? George Bush Sr. Lost some of that optimism. Clinton, Bush Jr. and my optimism was ebbing away; then Obama and I remember the joy I felt he was elected. Hope returned. I am sure I don’t need to rate my optimism at this point….
Someone I greatly admire, said the following, in a clip I saw this morning, “Things ain’t the way they were when we were kids…” (Lon Milo Duquette). Struck me like a ton of bricks as that was, exactly, what I was feeling, along with, “What, the f*ck”, happened?!”
No, I was not at Woodstock, far too young. No, I did not experience the “Summer of Love” nor was I a “hippie”. I did, however, though osmosis, and Aleister Crowley/Thelema (its a love/hate relationship…don’t ask), develop a hope for the future of humanity, where individual spirituality took us to a place of inner and outer peace. The building of world of intellect, where ego was not narcissism but a thing to be grown, tended and used to enhance the concepts of a greater world.
Yeah, that’s a big old “Nope”.
We can’t look to pseudo-leaders, men and yes, they are men, so poisoned, so insane, so dangerous that, as human beings, we can’t tolerate their continued efforts to destroy our world to enrich themselves.
They are law breakers, they have perverted their office, trampled on the rights of their citizens.
I’m in my sunset years, and I am so afraid for my children, for my grandchildren. The fear can make me burst out in tears of frustration.
We are in trouble, friends and neighbours. We are in deep, desperate trouble. There is no hero waiting in the wings to swoop in and rescue us from the evil empire. We need to be our own heroes, I’m afraid. We need to recognize the sleights of hand being used, globally. Diversion from the destruction of a society of free will, of individual spirituality, of collective peace.
“We need help, the poet reckoned.”
Wicked Emerald - Live From The Montérégie 