This is Chuck Hamilton from Chattanooga, Tennessee, in the U.S.
of A., also called (by me anyway) Neverland, the land of those who never grow
up. Or at least I did until we went
through the looking glass and down into the rabbit hole, to find that the narcissitic
Mad Hatter and his Mad Tea Party managed to dethrone the psychopathic Queen of Hearts who kept
saying “Off with their head!” about folks ranging from Moammar Qaddafi to
Julian Assange and cheated the White Rabbit out of his just due with help from
the Wicked Witch of the South. Now we
learn that the Hatter will see on his first official state visit the Wicked
Witch of the East, which makes sense given that they both have evil Winged
Monkeys for advisors.
Folks, we are no longer in Kansas, we are now in Wonderland. But we’re not going to get home by clicking
our heels together wearing ruby slippers and saying “there’s no place like
home” three times, because the Cheshire Cat who is married to the Queen of
Hearts and his friend across the pond, the Wizard of Oz, already took us too
far away.
What is the answer?
Don’t ask me, I’m just a wooden puppet who wants to some day become a
real boy.
Maybe, though, each of us is like the Scarecrow, the Tin
Man, and the Lion. No one can give us what
we already have, the brains to think for ourselves rather than accept the piles
of Orwellian bullshit being spread over the landscape to further fertilize the
fields to grow crops of wealth for the plutocrats and oligarchs, the courage to
resist the long train of abuses and usurpations evincing a design to enslave us
all under absolute despotism, and the heart not only to survive but to lift up
and fight for not just ourselves but for each other and for those around us,
and not just those, but also for those across borders and oceans, mountains and
deserts, classes and religions. There is
but one race, the human race. And there
are no aliens, because we are all from and of this planet. We are all Terrans, citizens of Earth, and we
are all each others’ brothers, sisters, and cousins. An injury to the least of us is an injury to
us all.
Yes, with Peter Pan incarnate and his Merry Band of Lost
Boys and Girls mainlining liquidized volumes of Atlas Shrugged with the Repugs in firm control of Congress while
the Dems aid and abet them every step of the way, we are in for a rough
ride. But if Saturday’s outpouring of
unity and goodwill all across the world has taught us anything, it’s that the
vast majority of us all around the planet are willing to stand up and say, “No
more”, that “we will not go gently into that good night and we will not vanish
without a fight”, that the needs of we the many outweigh the greed of the very
few, that this world and its people are theirs no more. We may be in for a rough ride, but I recently
heard on a TV show that the only way to get through hell is to go all the way
through it. Our day will come,
inshallah.
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