A rising column of torrid anguish that lit up the night sky, like the earth ripped open for a view into hell. The rushing wave of heat drowning out the feeble cries of the forlorn, their skin blackening, flacking away as they waved feebly for help amongst the wreckage of pain. Their bones twisted like the steel girders and beams that was supposed to protect them. Shining, gleaming armor as it wheeled out, indestructible! Indefatigable! Rendered asunder like dried twigs popping, snapping, crushing everyone who thought themselves propitious to have survived the initial crash, their blood beginning to boil and froth.
Two men run up onto the scene, aghast at the horror, their hands empty, helpless. One turns to the other, his face filling with rancor. "This is all your fault!"
A little while ago, a friend of mine said something quite alarming. We had noticed that someone had thrown a bit of debris in the road, and my friend, seeing the possible traffic hazard murmured, "That guy should be killed."
I was shocked to hear this from my friend. He is the most peaceful, loving, empathetic soul you'll meet this side of Ghandi. He wouldn't hurt a living soul. He's a vegan! Really!
But it was said. His words reverberating out into the collective consciousness of us all. A word uttered in a moment of dismay.
I personally think that anyone who throws their trash carelessly onto the side of the road should be sent to a labor camp for 6 months to walk on a tread mill to produce Global Warming safe electricity. That's a first offense.
So now there is a guy in Arizona who murdered, premeditatedly, a bunch of innocent people and wounded, irreparably, others.
And as a nation we can't see who's fault it is.
Well, I'll help you out. I know.
I know who's fault it is.
Kagetsunami asked me, What did John Lennon say to get himself shot? What did Jodie Foster do to drive a man to shoot President Reagan? And what about Charles Julius Guiteau?
Charles Julius Guiteau was they nut case who shot President Garfield.
Yeah, that's right, I said Nut Case! It was he who shot President Garfield. Just as Squeaky Frome tried to kill President Ford and Eric and Dylan shot up a school in Columbine.
Who's fault is it?
Squeaky, Eric, Dylan, Charles, David, John.
It's their fault!
If someone killed that man who pushed debris in the road, should my good friend, my wonderful, peaceful friend stand trial as a co-defendant in the murder?
We live in a nation where we are free to argue, debate, rationalize and disagree. We have too! My friend was uttering his anger, annoyance at the recklessness of another. We live in a society that was born on debate and argument! To suppress our speech, our feelings, is to be a traitor to one's own self.
What would Aristotle say? Socrates? What would the great minds of our history think to the idea that simple debate forms monsters?
Friends, I think we forget that we are nothing more than inhabitants on a spinning mud ball hurtling through an inhospitable climate filled with killer asteroids and waves of radiation at about 24,854 miles an hour ( You can look it up but we are indeed moving that fast). Why we're still here is anyone's guess.
Shit is going to happen and to loose our minds, our sense self and being whenever it does only takes us one step closer to that magic day of the 21st of December, 2012.
I for one say, let us not go gently into that night. If we are to be obliterated, let us be the gallant society we dream of being that stands bravely against the cold dark of Ragnarock. Let us be proud of what we accomplished in the blink of the universal timeline.