…Our country was a frontier of unknowns; geographically, politically, socially, spiritually and, well, just plain, naturally. That is the backbone of America. Unknowns, courage, fear, discovery and self-evaluation with a bent toward a high-arch goal. We all seem to have that common beat in our hearts and blood to see something better not only for ourselves and our nation, but a world at large. We never meant any harm. We started out with some grand ideas and genuine hearts and minds dedicated to the positive development of human kind. Somewhere along the way, things started to blur. Things started to become brushed into the easiest path like sand in the desert. A fact of science: water takes the path of least resistance…
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I have been in many a bitter cold. The kind that comes to mind now, is the one where I recall the bridge of my nose being so stone-cold that it feels nothing. At least, until something touches it. Then, the sharpest pain rampages, from the minuscule point of contact, throughout every muscle in my body. The pain radiates like a fractured mirror. I think this same analogy applies to the pulse of the heart of Our America. You do remember Our America? The place we call home. Well, I think it is getting Arctic cold in America today and it will be the same as last December, July and August. This year, the signs are the same, if not worse. March, June, September and November, an ill wind is blowing. America is in the throws of a fight for life and death. But, then again, when was it ever not? I think that is some of the misconception of our beloved Country from the beginning to now. America has always been on a cutting edge. America has always been in the battle on the global plain. The world, rightly so, calls us a young country, indeed we are. But we are old and elegant of mind beyond our peers and elders. We thrive on an ideal. Our ideal consists of a platitude of examples. We have learned from examples, we have dedicated ourselves to examples, we have become an example and we, most certainly, are willing, as always, to become an example.
Our country was a frontier of unknowns; geographically, politically, socially, spiritually and, well, just plain, naturally. That is the backbone of America. Unknowns, courage, fear, discovery and self-evaluation with a bent toward a high-arch goal. We all seem to have that common beat in our hearts and blood to see something better not only for ourselves and our nation, but a world at large. We never meant any harm. We started out with some grand ideas and genuine hearts and minds dedicated to the positive development of human kind. Somewhere along the way, things started to blur. Things started to become brushed into the easiest path like sand in the desert. A fact of science: water takes the path of least resistance.
Our political system has done both as stated above. If the winds blew hard, the populace followed the most hopeful promises of political candidates and potential leaders. They blew their spews of “I’ll give you this, I’ll give you that. Just vote for me!” The waters of our votes flowed to the path of least resistance. Why choose the hard road, right? Why choose the candidate that bucked the system. The candidate that was a dark horse and a longshot. No, America doesn’t gamble the way it used to. We gamble safely. Therein lies an oxymoron, I believe. A safe gamble. That is something worthy of a bouncing belly laugh in satire-filled angst and sadness. We no longer challenge the hard dark night and the lies of propped-up leadership. We have succumbed to the numbness of bold-faced liars that look us straight in the eye, via television and other media, and state “trust us. Trust me.” It’s all a spin and, like the merry-go-round, the spin can be very stomach-churning sickly. A nauseating experience of all that has gone wrong. We let the poison of complacency fill our veins with ice-cold indifference. We let an ill wind pass by in hopes that it will only be the one blow. And we told ourselves the same thing on the third, tenth and fiftieth blow. Ill winds are still flowing and we still keep saying “It will pass and things will get better.” I don’t think so.
No, just like the frozen cheek that gets a cracking shot from a whipping tree branch in the dead of winter, we are in for an awakening. Just when all seems numb, we are about to feel a strike to our delicate being and forced to make some immediate, reparable decisions, if we still can. Can this jello-like giant regain some steel in resolve and fortitude? It isn’t in our so-called leadership. A bunch of farcical, bought and paid-for social elitist prostitutes. There is no actual, physical wind blowing. No, this is all metaphorical. However, the reality of the analogy is as real as an ice break-up at the North Pole. Ill winds are blowing and there is a firestorm brewing in the lower echelons of our Country. The question begs, will we, the minuets, continue to vote our conscience or vote our commercial glam and glitter. The spin. The whirlwind of ill winds in a hurricane of political abuse? Could one of us dare to stand up? Or maybe ten of us? How about a thousand or a million? Hmm, reminds me of a revolution.
Of course, that statement will get me “blackballed” in all sorts of ways. God forbid we dare state we desire a revolution to our present government. That would be subversive and draw the iron fist of Homeland Security. What an irony and tragedy. I, for one, will choose this harder path, the path of most resistance, the desert winds blowing sand on my plate. I don’t care much for dying, but it started when I was born. Therefore, why not make dying mean something? We all grow old. We all face the diversity of this thing called life. Why not make it worth living for those that follow us?
Sadly, our national educational system has painted heroic pictures of such greats as Alan Hale, George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin Franklin, John Adams, Abraham Lincoln and the list goes on. Yet, every single one of these individuals would be under great scrutiny by NSA, CIA, FBI, DHS, DOD and the list goes on for their subversive, altruistic ideations. They would be politically, socially and physically crucified for being the fire-starters of a new and refreshing “ill wind.” I fancy the idea of being labeled just that; an ill wind blowing up some politician’s or “good ol’ boy’s skirt and exposing his or her weaknesses. So let the ill winds blow. Say something. Speak up and out. Speak loud and clear. Get some guts and blow the gusts. An ill wind is on the rise, an ill wind is blowing. Let’s make it worth the tordanic force it should be. Blow ill wind, blow.
Written by Lonnie D. Story, (email – sail44free@aol.com) who is the author of “The Meeting of Anni Adams” and is working on “Without A Shot Fired: The Dustin Brim Story” Lonnie writes a column at www.populistamerica.com
