We Will Recover

The genius of American Democracy is that neither "side" should ever gain a permanent victory.

The nature of the beast should then always offer a degree of tension, and likely frustration, too, as the two sides vie with one another to implement their vision (and it most always boils down to two sides, here or in other parts of the world).

When Eisenhower agreed to run for the Presidency, he became a Republican, believing that the US has been in the hands of the Democrats for too long. Emotionally, politically, Eisenhower could well have been a Democrat, too. But he wanted to balance the system.

For me, we're in a period of time when the Oligarchy has essentially taken the upper hand, using both Republicans and Democrats to game the government for their advantage. America, more than ever, has fallen in love with money, fame, fortune, and the power associated with all of it. And for millions more, who always seem to be locked out of the house of plenty, a deep and often violent resentment fueled by tribalism and fear.

It's always been about money, but somewhere along the line, the scales were tipped toward a particularly venomous version of money - no longer the WASP sense of duty to a nation, or even a semblance of some kind of Christian or Jewish orientation, but now just greed, and hanging around the edges of power, those in the tattered rags of evangelicalism yapping on about Cyrus and Israel, and a whole of biblical cockamamie.

Democracy is threatened, as I see it.

Yet, we will recover, not because we're Americans, or because we're the apple of God's eye, but because we're human beings, and this is how history totters along, always out of balance, and always seeking balance, and sometimes, in those brilliant moments of peace and wellbeing, actually achieves some degree of balance, wherein the two sides, locked in struggle, enable the better angels.

Empires come and empires go ... and along the way, enormous suffering, and always war. Yet science discovers, musicians compose, poets write, historians publish, people fall in love, children are born, some rise to greatness of heart and vision, and lead nations to better days.

It pays to be cynical in order to be honest about humanity's inhumanity to itself ... but it pays to be hopeful lest one give up and sink into despair or some form of quiet hedonism. As long as poets write and artists tell their stories, there is hope for tomorrow.

I don't know the timeline. A physician-friend said to me a few days back about socialized healthcare - "We'll eventually get there, but not likely in our lifetime."

He may be right, but I hope he's not, and I hope that we can move things along a bit more swiftly.

Americans Have Been Dazzled ...

Americans have been dazzled out of their brains by wealth.
We love it.
The thought of it.
And having it someday ourselves.

Our preachers have taught us get-up-and-go.
Our teachers have taught us how to have a career.
Our preachers failed often, too often, about love.
Our teachers failed often, too often, about daring to think.

America's god is really, truly, thoroughly, crazily, Mammon.
TV, books, prayer meetings, continuing education, and seminars.
It's all about wealth.
Who has it.
Who doesn't.

Meanwhile the wealthy go about their sordid lives.
Using charity to dazzle us.

We puff up with admiration for these "kindly" people.
Who, like the rich of Jesus' time.
Make sure everyone sees them with their bags of gold.
Dropping them loudly into the treasuries of human pride.

Meanwhile the widow, gamed by the system, thinks it's the thing to do.

And maybe it is.
So she gives, too.
Her two pennies.
The last she has.

Jesus loves her for it.
But he does't love the system that betrays her in.
A system that takes.
Her last two pennies.
And her house, too.
Everything, it takes.
And then: promises God's blessing.
Yet never delivers, but always promises:
Health, wealth, and happiness.


But God, it seems, isn't about wealth.
So those who have it.
Have to create a god who loves it.
Who bestows wealth upon the righteous.
Or so they think:
The deserving.
The self-made.
Those who help themselves, of course.
With prayer and bible-reading.
Going to church.
Going for the best seats in the house.
Wearing their going-to-church Sunday best.
To dazzle the folks with wealth.
And to keep the folks in line.
Helpless to be anything but envious.
And always:
Amazed and,
Dazzled.

It's Mammon who laughs cruelly at the fooled.
It's Mammon who collects their souls.
And chows down on them, devouring them with glee.
Turning their wealth into nightmares of fear and hatred.
And the poor are ground down to flavor the feast.

And so it goes.
America the Great.
Mad for money.
Lusting for wealth.

We've rewarded the preachers who've dazzled us with dreams.
We've rewarded the teachers who stole our ability to think.
We've bowed down to Mammon so ofter we don't know any better.

And while the poor languish.
The rich laugh.
On the fantail of a yacht.
Or 40 thousand feet up in a private jet.
In comfort and style and pride and piety.

And the widow gives her last two pennies.
And her children starve.
And then she dies.

She was better than all of them.
But a victim of their game.

A game Jesus despised.
No wonder they did him in.