The land time can’t forget: between election day 2016 and Inauguration Day 2017. Is it High Noon or 12 0’clock High meets 140 characters in search of an author, but settling for a hack chocking on denial of Climate Change, conflicts of interest and the Russians are Coming, in real time?
Caught by surprise Electoral College victory — hiding in plain sight, using thank you tour for, lock her up encore, as cover up: intelligence briefings on the necessity of taking up governance scary for one with only an eight second attention span.
No denying launch codes in the hands of a Twitter caricature is not a movie you want to watch before lights out, but if we want to keep the home fires burning, we need go beyond, the inmates have taken over the asylum and, have a come to Jesus moment: America is not dead, but maybe we should be getting a second opinion.
Why can’t we find comfort in the assurances of a heartless Halliburton oil addict, and his co-Mushroom Cloud gang member confirming the common good will be served by Time’s Person of the Year nominees?
I mean, where’s our faith in lead water, gas pipeline leaks, bought politicians and coal ash? Have they not proven to be ready, willing and able companions to food deserts, factory farms and rusty memories of the good ol’ days?
As the tomfoolery reality of our potential 45th sets in on the road again, we could all use some coffee pot time among friends with an appreciation for what is past is prologue. So, celebrate holidays knowing, though fractured, we still stand gifted with the freedom to think — and the wake-up call to do so.
Hope is as near as dusting off our ability to turn off the self-appointed self-important, like Chuck Todd and Hugh Hewitt, blaming President Obama for not breaking through the constant barrage of Breaking 24/7 competition between Trump Free Press and Trump Fake News.
The Russians, weren’t the only ones, cyberspace invited to invade The Left for an inner circle placemat on The Right side of the table — sad.
When did browsing become swiping in a hazy flash-by pretense of communication? When did manufacturing, in depth research and personal development succumb to failing to question authority, embracing, not my problem and ignoring the wonder of wandering through the mysteries of, are we there yet?
Yes, we can still see how words poorly chosen in nincompoop bravado and buffoonery can disappear our comprehension: Chinese ships in the China Sea, returning Drone amidst mixed signals; Russians toasting laughable nonsense, not at the world’s shifting perception of dependable American prowess, but at our being so easily distracted by a carnival barker wearing a carrot and tweeting his stick for the wild beasts of his own casting.
Unlike the glitter of fool’s gold, reason anchors us to the true communion of hope, which then invigorates our will to go on — but deciding what to contribute, requires more thought than text from a tweeter. So, let us not misplace our willpower to hope, for both world and time are abundantly clear, it is for us to create a life space for both oyster and pearl.
Car keys can be found more easily than truth, and hope eludes reality check in rallies that evade questions about tax returns, but despite murderous attempts to steal our peace on earth, are we not the designated survivors inheriting, love thy neighbor as thyself, — even when too much information is not enough knowledge?
We are stewards of nothing, if putting faith in Goliaths, we forget we are the masters of our fate and the Davids of America’s soul — the very instant we keep hope someplace safe, where our children can find it.
Like Heaven’s brightest star, hope guides us forward on paths wiser than now imaginable — to learn to live beyond self — but even an open mind filled with the better argument, is but half the journey, to having the wisdom to use it.
Hope in our future is our proof of life today.