Do You Hear What I Hear?
Do you hear what I hear, as this allegedly Christian country prepares to celebrate the birth of the Prince of Peace? I hear the lies of a craven president, I hear the voices of peace activists being silenced, I hear praise for the pagan idols of greed as Christmas approaches. That’s what I hear. I hear the explosions of bombs in Afghanistan, the bellowing of Beck and Limbaugh on the airwaves of the oligarchs, the threats of the corrupt ruling class echoing through the corridors of power, and the cold wind of betrayal blowing across this land of dead end roads, empty streets, and bridges to nowhere.
Do you see what I see? I see America locked in the back seat of the Obamamobile, I see the driver drunker than a waltzing piss ant on 90 proof Centrist whiskey, barreling through the night with no headlights on, roaring down the Triangulation Turnpike at ninety-outrages-an hour, with Shock Doctrine Capitalism’s Greatest Hits blaring on the radio and the windshield splattered with blood.
Howard Dean tells us it’s not completely dark. That’s true. We can still see each other now and then in the glare of the flashing dashboard warning lights.
Whoa . . . that was a close call . . . I should be accustomed to temporarily averted annihilation by now, but sideswiping oncoming 18-wheelers hauling bipartisan dynamite to blow up the bridges behind us gets my adrenaline pumping every time. . . .
Did I mention the dead bodies in the trunk? I’d better mention that.
There are dead bodies in the trunk.
Dead bodies of Afghan and Pakistani children, Predator-droned into eternity to keep us all safe during this holiday season of peace on earth, good will towards men, to keep us all safe from foreigners who hate us for our freedoms, who still don’t understand that we have no choice but to blow their children up, it demonstrates our resolve.
I see the whole convoy, I see it bound for Hell with the hammer down. The Obamamobile. The armored cars of the oligarchs. The Humvees of the generals. The limos of the Beltway pundits. The spy vans of the NSA. The garbage trucks of Congress. The pickup trucks of the Blue Dogs. And last of all, the Obamabots, huffing and puffing on their one-speed bikes, peddling as fast as they can, trying to keep up.
That’s what I see.
Do you know what I know?
Of course you do. You know, I know, we all know the Christmas story would be very different if it occurred today in 21st century America. The Three Wise Men would be porno-scanned by the TSA and their gifts would be blown up by the bomb squad as a precautionary measure. When the angels appeared in the sky to deliver their glad tidings of great joy, NORTHCOM would scramble F-16’s and they’d be escorted to a landing, handcuffed by DHS agents, and hauled away for interrogation by the FBI.
The Teabaggers would denounce it all as an anchor-baby plot to infiltrate the land of the free and the home of the brave, they would vilify it as a devious scheme to force conservatives to love their enemies, they would condemn it as a conspiracy to destroy capitalism so the meek can inherit the earth and redistribute the wealth.
I’m just a shepherd boy, but I know a Star of Peace shines above us. It’s hard to see, but it’s there. I know that someday, enough people will finally see it, and we’ll hear a Song of Peace and Justice ringing through the night, we’ll see the oppressed people of this awakening world throw the moneychangers out of the temple, we’ll hear them proclaim the birth of a new age, an age of peace, an age of goodness and light . . .
Bring that day closer.
Speak truth to power.
With a voice as big as the sea.