Looking for a Hard Rain
In case you don't already know, I also blog at Mockingbird's Medley, usually with content different from my posts here, sometimes not. I was on my way to posting an item there today when I and found head Mocker, Mimus Pauly's, post on the alienation and disappointment he has experienced as a thinking American who loves his country. The entire post is worth the read so you will truly understand his final words.
And it is the idea of shattering of that bond [faith in our Constitution, laws and ideals] that the pretenders in Washington on St. Patrick's Day saw fit to honor. Forget about al-Qaida for a moment -- that is the existential threat America faces. People who know deep down that this country is porked beyond remedy if things don't change soon, yet maintain their bogus fronts because it makes them feel less apprehensive. Neo-cons. Thirty-percenters. War fetishists. Fake Christians. Empty vessels.
I don't know when that stormcloud is finally going to burst open, but the longer it takes, the harder that rain is going to pour when it finally does. I hope those pretenders know how to swim...
I'm not sure I want them to swim. I want the rain to wash that kind of ignorance and hatred away.
Labels: hair triggers, unreality
2 Comments:
It's going to be a long time before I get over that day. I'd like to go to a third D.C. protest sometime -- and it would be nice if Red State Blues and I could convince more East Coast bloggers to join us. But that friggin' day...
Hate to say it, but you may be right about not wanting certain folks to swim. It's just necessary to remember that when that tidal wave crashes down on them, it's gonna crash down on us, too...
Come gather round people wherever you roam
And admit that the waters around you have grown
And accept it that soon you'll be drenched to the bone
If your time to you is worth saving
Then you'd better start swimming or you'll sink like a stone
For the times, they are a changing
Come writers and critics who prophesize with your pens
And keep your eyes open, the chance won't come again
And don't speak too soon, the wheel's still in spin
And there's no telling who that it's naming
Oh the loser will be later to win
For the times, they are a changing
Come senators, congressmen, please head the call
Don't stand in the doorway, don't block up the hall
For he that gets hurt will be her that has stalled
The battle outside ragging will soon shake your windows
And rattle your hall
For the times, they are a changing
Come mothers and fathers all over this land
And don't criticize what you can't understand
Your sons and your daughter are beyond your command
Your old role is rapidly age
Please get out of the new one if you can't lend a hand
For the times they are a changing
The line, it is drawn, the curse, it is cast
The slow one will later be fast
And the present now will soon be the past
The order is rapidly fading
The first one now will later be last
For the times, they are a changing
bobby zimmerman
while i must confess that this song has taken on a new and different meaning now that my children have informed me that i am "officially old" it still rings among the truest of that time, and this one.
although i have dedicated myself to the concept of:
and i'll know my song well before i start singing
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