As it was in the beginning, the fool cannot see the end. The road from what if to a promising if then on to a then that’s in the realm of an achievable possibility is foggy, full of pot holes, weird turns, contortionist bends and dead ends.
“If’n Id’a had ma druthers, then this allegro-shit woulda turned out diffrunt.” said the fool in his best faux-hillbilly twang.
The question has been asked during and in the wash and wake of continuing war, how is it possible for a nation of educated and caring human beings to be transformed into a group capable of the barbaric behavior we continue to see and do? Mass murder, genocide, rape, pillage, plunder, annihilation of other humans in the name of patriotism hiding under the cloak of self-preservation. He who writes history will name the blame because we have a compulsive need to find someone or anything to blame. Survey of our naked collective corporate conscience denies and defies the need to be responsible or be understood. What paradox makes killing by one murder but OK for all of us to kill in name of society? It’s sort of a fifth grade mentality.
“When there is more of us than there is of them, we can make’em do any damn thing we want ‘em to.” Democracy in action.
There are no heroes in this tale of woe; no knights in shining armor, no nights in white satin sheets to lull us back to sleep. We’re just left with the cold, hard facts we’re still living with and have yet to wake up. Integers and differentials abound but the calculus of catastrophe provides no solution. If there will be any enlightenment, it will have to occur in those fractional mille-seconds at the end of a horrific nightmare.
The fool remembers now, that as an aged axiom, fools often repeat themselves and others. The final scene begins with what’s been said before many times in many ways;
“The world’s a stage where every one must play their part and mine’s a crappy one.”
“Send in the clowns. There needs to be clowns before the curtain falls down.”
“Oh! You mean these are the clowns?”
“I guess the end must be near.”
“Alas, poor Stumpf, we knew him, folks. Eulogies for those gone by are left for the living to render. Not much good can be said of him. We come to bury him not praise him.”
“The evil people do lives after them while the good is buried with their bones or just go up in smoke.” says the fool.
The final curtain drops and the allegory is over.
No applause please.
Don’t clap. Just throw money.