Friday, December 30, 2011

Colors of the Season

This time of year celebrates light and birth and promise. We burn the fires and sing the songs to chase away darkness and welcome back light.  The old mysteries linger in blood-red berries, flames like the sun, and boughs that stay evergreen, even in the hard cold truth of a northern winter.
2011 was a pissant year in so many ways, but I am caught by the demands for freedom from people across the world.  Tunisia to Egypt to Libya to Syria. Wall Street and Oakland and Washington and Boston.  One generation passes, and we seek the next Vaclav Havel, the young Mandela, the leaders with heart and morals and the courage to do what is right for us all, not act just for the few, the rich, the lobbyists, the spoilers.

I'm disgusted by liars and false gods, guns and pepper spray, bullies and corrupted elections.  I want leaders -- real people -- who stand up and stop the violence that is done in the name of "national security", "public safety", "too-big-to-fail", and "family values".  

I want to hear truth.  Someone, say:
"There were no weapons of mass destruction. Those weapons were made here, at home, paid for by our taxes, and unleashed by our own sons and daughters.  Truth:  We cannot keep destroying peoples' jobs and then expect them to be the good consumers needed to fuel our economy.  Truth:  The emperor has no clothes, never has, never will, no matter how many tailors and handlers he/she employs."

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