Mocking, scoffing–
This klaxon culture–
Ripping at the world–
Rebels with scarcely a cause but outrage itself–
Hating their shortlist of wrongs
And a thousand rights–
The songleader points a finger and screams.
And the chorus joins in.
And it echoes across the land,
Amplified a million-fold by the powers
Who take cover behind the strife.
The klaxon daily tells the fools what to hate.
And hate they do,
With insane passion–
Finding such dear promise in the notion
That they are owed revenge upon those
Who have not really wronged them–
Getting drunk on the idea that
Whatever ails them simply must be,
Without exception,
Someone else’s fault.
They tear down.
And do they ever build up?
Do they even know how?
Is not destruction all that hatred knows how to do?
They play the menace to our society–
Disturbing the peace,
Stirring the pot,
Lying the lies and even
Inventing ways to lie the truth.
Defying the Golden Rule.
Darkening the days.
Calling good evil, and evil good.
Never having their fill.
Exploding at the slightest excuse,
True or false,
Leveraging their tantrum on the world–
Running the ploy of the two-year-old
On childish parents who can be counted on
To give in most every time.
“Give me what I want or I will not shut up!”
And what champion can be found to tell them “no”?
Indeed, when what they really need is a spanking,
They are given a pulpit instead.
They are a parasite upon our own weakness–
An exploitation of our shameful lack of conviction–
A relentless enemy of truth and prosperity and justice alike.
If they find a just cause today,
They parade it like nobody’s business.
But when tomorrow, their cause du jour is unjust,
They parade it just the same.
And so we see through their game,
That they don’t care about truth at all,
But only about advantage.
But the blame does not belong to them alone,
For they see through our game, too–
That we don’t really care as much
About principle as about avoiding a fight.
So they push it to the brink
Knowing that we will not.
It is we who have dared to feed the stray,
Even though the wisdom of the ages
Has warned us against it
A million times.
And it is now we who are trained
To keep it fed
Day and night
At our own weary and begrudging expense.
And the dogs who used to bark all night on Main Street
Are now broadcast from sea to shining sea,
Magnified beyond the petty powers of their forebears,
And useful beyond the wildest dreams of those who
Loot the treasury under the noses of the distracted masses.
Perhaps our society–
Who could never bring itself
Fully to outlaw the lie–
Could use its sleepless nights
To give careful thought to its ways
As the klaxon sounds on.
