Flash Epistle Number Eight

Design Swan

For nearly forty years, America has been taught not to think. The assignment is nearly complete. Red and blue yahoos rant slogans like scripture, smug in revelation. Opinions abound as thought circles the drain, sucking down remnants of living brains. To think is to be. America no longer is. Citizens are propaganda billboards along roads to oblivion. Compromise is a deleted expletive. Civility and Commonwealth are lost memories. The wind is filled by the shouting of militant trash. The cesspool of false facts overflows. Smash and grab have replaced economics. Greed sits upon a throne above all. Sides are taken. Positions defended to the death. Automatons with smart phones shuffle through a hostile landscape, certain of their certainty. The death of human affection fills the air. Golem patrol everywhere. Red and blue robots attack all who disagree. The worst have become the best, enforce their lies upon the rest. An apocalypse of ignorance and hate is upon us. Believe or die. Virtue has a terminal, blackened eye. Some wounds will not heal. This is where we live, who we are, what we feel. You can’t flee the contemporary. The now of now is the raw, real deal.

Honorary Schizophrenic. Recent refugee. Displaced person. Old white male. Confidant of cassowaries.

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