Year after year, they go back to the pre-accepted lie
And celebrate it all over again,
Counting themselves vigilant and devout for it,
And rehearsing enough of its details
To feel a bit of it once again,
Savoring the dark reverie
And the sense of vindication
A people gets from having been
Attacked from without―
Whether that’s what really happened or not.

And having done their duty,
They go back to business as usual,
Believing what is put forth for them today
By their trusted oracles,
And being unwilling to see whatever lies
May be mixed into it all―
Even as they reject some of the lies
That come from the other camp.

Today is the day.