Spotted on the GOP-leaning website thoughtfulwomen.org was a basketful of the usual accusations regarding our commander in chief. Many fingers were pointed and keypads whacked over who wanted sequestration first. Who knows? Who cares?
We've seen that somehow in the Congress of the Damned it is a mortal sin to speak to the opposite side, to huddle in the cloakrooms or the other corners of the House and negotiate and engage in debate about the issues that Democrats and Republicans must consider at this absolutely critical moment in history. How can we, in good faith, call our constipated political system a Democracy? In a Democracy the majority rules. When did that fundamental tenet of our Republic vanish? And then there's the silliness of the men and women in the Congressional Playground fiddling while "Rome" burns.
Blather, blather, bother. Who wants sequestration more? Who thought of it first? Who is really is this psycho killer president? And why does he come from Kenya? Or ... does he?
Surely there's a better way to spend our time than to diss this President, who is working so hard that his hair is going gray. Whatever else you think of Mr. Obama, he is and has been a committed public servant and does not deserve your scorn. Why does disagreement end up in vitriolic hatred?
Everybody lovesright now, as well they should, but if she were to decide to run for the Presidency in 2016 the gloves would be off and all detritus from both of the Clintons’ younger days will surface as her opponents attempt to rip her to shreds.
The election is over. Speaker John Boehner shoulld get back to his giant lawn mower, golf course, cocktail hours and tanning beds rather than attempting to run and ruin this country. And as for the rest of us, we'd all be better off helping the helpless instead of attacking those like our president, who are doing their damnedest to help us. No 5 p.m. work days for the Prez. Unlike Obama’s predecessor, the haplessly endearing, murderous, Mr. Obama works. You won't find him taking long weekends with Condi Rice at Camp David.
There's such a serious sense of violence seething in our national underbelly. There are so many constructive things for people to do with that energy without strapping guns to manly thighs (boy, is that hot or what? Not!) and going to rallies to intimidate the Prez. Or for the women – do you really need a “Don’t Tread on Me” snake tattoo? Plant a few trees and a garden too, because I have a feeling we're going to need them.
In the "old days" a tenet of “polite conversation” (the sort that doesn’t lead to drawn swords) was to stay away from two topics when conversing. Those subjects were and are politics and religion. Maybe money should be included, but this nation of ours is going to Poverty Hell in a handbasket.
It would also be marvelous if the talking heads stopped repeating the same damned talking points, using the very same words on every different network that exists every single day.
If they don’t have anything fresh to say, if they don’t know what they are talking about, and since most of them look and sound exactly alike -- boring, soooo intensely boring – give them a “tin parachute” and the old heave-ho.
Each side feels threatened by the possible deprivation or disappearance of our favorite toys, whatever they might be. Soon I fear we will feel threatened about the things we need, like food, help for the elderly, etc. We've got to learn that compromise is not a sign of weakness; it is not a dirty word. It is the weaving together of different colors and yarns and textures until a whole cloth appears.
In the case of a Nation this can be a magical and ever-changing fabric, shimmering and lovely, like the Coat of Many Colors Jacob gave to Joseph. Let us embrace the beauty of this possibility for ourselves and our country -- who knows, we might be very, very surprised, and in the best ways possible.
Honestly, at this stage of the game, given how we’ve abused the earth and the people on it, any lesser ambition will degrade our planet and population irrevocably. Once that “tipping point” is reached, there will be no way back.
Let's pretend we are the United States of America, and maybe, just maybe, if we wish hard enough, and show more love for our fellow travelers, we will achieve our goal of that "more perfect union."
So, fellow countrymen, do you remember the scene in "Peter Pan" by James Barrie, when Tinkerbell drinks the poison meant for Peter? She was dying until the urgent responses from those all around brought her back to life.
This is an urgent matter, and we have one small window of opportunity. Our Mother Earth as She was is dying like Tinkerbell. Let's clap our hands, clap our hands hard, wish and work with all our might and maybe our dearly beloved country will, like Tinkerbell, awaken, coming back to life refreshed and alive and full of love and wisdom.. Hopefully this might happen before we've utterly gone beyond the planetary tipping point and have to live in cities above the sea, or, as Stephen Hawkings has suggested, maybe we can find another planet.
It's up to us.
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