On January the 6th, 2021 I said my final goodbyes at the graveside to my dear brother who was also my hero in so many respects. We carried each other through different facets and phases of our lives, and even so, the heaviness of the weight was never felt for either of us. Then, just two days later, Mike would have been 64. And though I won’t be feeding him as I and others did at times in the last stages of the dreadful demon of cancer that latched ahold of him without rhyme, reason or prejudice; in my heart of hearts, I will forever be needing him, and I will miss him far more than I can yet imagine.
In irony of ironies, on that same day of January the 6th, 2021, disenchanted and perhaps misdirected patriots (so we’re told) others often called deplorable, stormed a state capitol signifying they had enough! As we now wait for the truth of the episode to weigh in, those in attendance believed (what seemed to be rightfully) that their election had been stolen and thus should be given its day in court. They also stoically adhered to the belief that the Republic they celebrated as their birthright was on the fringe of dying, much like my dear brother. Riddled likewise with a cancer that had taken over and was now merely hanging on by morphine drip.
Now to be sure, many caught up in the twice-baked spirit of the age would read such sentiment as credulous; unthinkable; misguided; and perhaps even seeing demons under a bush that do not exist. However, in the minds and hearts of over half of the American populace, the depth of the demonic cesspool in a swamp called Washington, D.C. seems to be obvious to inquiring minds who actually wanted to know. Equally are those who believe that now, to deny the existence of these sea monsters and their lobbying gods in the netherworld called the U.S. capitol, and to merely acquiesce; is equivalent to, as Winston Churchill once opined, “trying to negotiate with a Tiger while our neck is sitting conveniently in its mouth”.
A Republic to Which It Stood
As we watched the skirmish of mostly concerned patriots amidst the current narrative of the misdirected few who gave our cause a bad name (at least to the tech giants that control the information), it resulted swiftly in a successful “spin” of a broad pronouncement of domestic terrorism to the whole “kit and kaboodle”. We then watched as genteel and spineless senators and house members condemned in front of their “back room dealmakers” this brief hiccup of violence. They did so devoid of any contrast with the litany of riots, looting and mayhem from the other side of the room that lasted forever and a day, and the final dye is now cast seemingly in their convenient favor. And as this room full of entitled, cultured and totally irrelevant swamp creatures on each side of the pond slithered their empty rhetoric; the rest of us settled back into our easy chair, biding our time until Big Brother suddenly becomes a work of non-fiction. Everyone is crying “Peace, Peace” when there seems to be no Peace; especially when there is not a willing prophet among them except “Orange Man Bad” who will soon (quite possibly) exit stage left. All the while everyone now gleefully lobbies for “reaching across the aisle” and “bipartisanship” in a once known Republic, whose desired goodness Gentle Ben once told us was the only glue that would help us keep it in what is now a generation of a Mayflower-paradise now lost. Meanwhile, if you listen closely, one can hear the “Happy Days are Here Again” warm up, when the order of the day is a song of woeful lament.
Asleep in the Light
We also now live in an era of the church where pastoral psychologists and CEO’s for a generation or more have agreed with those who call the evil good and good evil, attracting all the itching ears to their lair of homilies pregnant with irrelevance, balderdash and God-mockery. And if you listen closely, you can still hear God opine through the weeping Jeremiah, “the prophets prophesy lies, the priests exercise power by their own authority, and my people love to have it this way”. And even so, at the sound of those haunting words, there is much more than a remnant who have not yet bowed the knee to Baal. There are many rightly dividing the word of truth, and those whose knees are battle worn with prayers both for the victory, and equally for the strength to accept a larger God operation we are as of yet not privy to. Somewhere in between are those who sleep while a battle rages for the soul of a nation, somehow certain that neutrality, prophetic indifference and settling for the new masters of our destiny has a “chapter and verse” ignored by the gullible MAGA masses. Yet perhaps the truth is that we won’t know who’s right until “it’s all over but the crying”, somewhere over the rainbow in a soon to be forgotten national idea, that once sang about stars and stripes forever.
Free Money and Lobotomies Anyone?
One thing is certain however, and that is that the next 8 days of this once great Republic will be waited on with bated breath. Will the so-called patriots have their day to be heard, only to find that their hopeful and colorful hero couldn’t get the job done? Or, will the once genitalia-grabbing, twitter ‘n’ chief ride in on a white horse with Sydney Powell with the enemy’s head on a Supreme Court verdict platter; proving in one fell-swoop an election was in fact stolen behind closed doors? And will a nation of free men and women exercise their right to stand up and let their voice be counted ready to fight with a once beloved Common Sense voice and pen? Or will the ones who own the information emerge victorious by shutting down the dissent before the tea is again thrown in the harbor, quietly escorting us to our lobotomization, forever to become loyal subjects to the new Father-Kings who always knew what was best for us? Somewhere where we’ll all at once get our money ration for nothing, and the lobotomies; well, they’re also for free.