It seems like Autumn only arrived a month or so ago. Yet, though temperatures are holding at normal levels, perhaps even a bit on the warmer side, it looks more like the end of fall and the early stages of winter, than not. It feels like it. Yep, a very sad state of affairs when feeling starts being the basis of ones modus operandi, instead of adjusting to the reality of it all, but still, there it is.
There are often times grey clouds obscuring the sun, during what little daylight is to be had. We already have been visited by snow. A day of big flakes, with grand ambitions, but a ground with a warmth greater than said ambitions, saw the frozen white banished, at least for a few more weeks.
Here we are, one week past Thanksgiving, spiritual cornucopias pregnant with what we should have been thankful for; yet demanding more. Physical bounties placed, if only symbolically, on our tables. And I get the feeling, we may not have partaken of an annual Thanksgiving, but something more akin to, a Last Supper.
The melancholy has hit hard.
Not an angst fulled, suicide hot line, “oh woe is me”, pity party. No, this is looking at what has been, what is, and by all indications, what will be, kind of feeling. That baring some major epiphany on the part of the American people, those we have elected, and will elect to office, will see us on our way to a very long winter. A passing of … something. Youth, innocence, last chances to right what has been made wrong… without paying “full adult fare”.
The occupy wall street crowd (Yeah, I know it should be capitalized, but they neither warrant, or deserve it.) and their fellow travelers throughout the world, would argue otherwise, many not even knowing what they were arguing for or about. But banging their sippy cups none the less.
The morally corrupt, their corrupters, and enablers of all political affiliations, either silently cheer them on, or are actively supporting them, while advancing their own agendas. The largest of corporations seek to keep their bottom line secure, by any means fair or foul. And that which was once the faithful watchdog, has been given its pound of red meat (or thirty pieces of silver, if you prefer). Tail wagging, it sits happily in the corner, dining, while it’s masters are robbed…of their standard of living, their freedoms, and perhaps any real chance of regaining same.
In the next six months to a year or so, I am willing to bet we will have closed a chapter in the book of mankind. Perhaps it will be titled “An American Experiment”, or perhaps it will be but a smaller section of a larger chapter … “The Rise and Fall of Western Civilization”.
There is still a chance, for there is always hope, however fleeting and tenuous. But the chance grows smaller with each passing day.
What was once a beacon, is now little more than a flickering candle in the wind.