"The feet of the tyrant… are already touching a tripwire"

Regular readers know I have my own blog and the astute among you know that I crosspost here what is originally posted over there. I also however have posts over there that are published by guest bloggers that are not published here and there are sound reasons for that, after all, Kevin invited me and not others to post at Wizbang. But this morning, I want to engage in the unconventional and actually excerpt and link back to my own place and highlight one of my new guest blogger’s posts:

When I wrote the poem at the end of this piece, it was one of those which, like many, evolved from a dream, assumed the clarity of a vision and imbedded itself in my mind. In the vision, the America which I saw was bleak and devoid of feeling or warmth… not until I saw the Book of Eli did I see a landscape to resonate with the view.

Originally I thought that it had to do only with the growing parasite of apathy which had seemingly attached itself to more and more people with each passing day. As when Kitty Genovese was slowly stabbed to death while her neighbors, considering her screams for help to be bothersome, admitted having turned up their televisions and radios so that they were not troubled by the dying woman.

“Turn up Ed Sullivan; why doesn’t that miserable girl stop screaming?” And eventually, she did..

But now, I flash forward to the evening in which staunch Republican Karl Rove, ranted viciously about a young woman named Christine, who had the audacity to run for office without the anointing of the “Party”, and who had won the hearts and minds of the common people. The Ruling Class, which sees itself as Royalty, may wear a D or an R as a suffix, but it does not approve of the mere hoi-polloi daring to raise its voice. Like the people in the poem, the Elites just want troubling sights to go away and leave them alone, to rule the peasants as always.

The rest, I believe, is most worthy.

Environmental tyranny
In Thy Name