O Europe give it a rest, at least, since you cannot confess, admit the mighty long list of your crimes. I will not recriminate, though some will but please please shut up… for a while. Stop trolling out Aristotle, he never wore a suit, Don’t babble about your civilizations superior, ignoring somehow the Reich and their heroes in America. Inquisitions, Colonialisms and manifest destinies. Let it all be past? Ok, but in the interim do shut up. You have nothing to say on immigration, your examples are stark: the cannon the flag and the genocide, deny it, you cannot. You have surrendered a right to the scepter, the talking stick, long ago. You speak badly, your tongue is forked. The stick has been passed. And we shall discover how well the rest of humanity might do. If and when they liberate themselves from you, your liturgies of cliches, of power. Your intent in talk is unfeeling, you call yourselves rational but it is only your talk, you are seething, I see you, untethered from human. It is useless to talk of masses as something you are not and that is what you do, always, listen to yourselves since you listen to no-one else. We have the tapes! Embarrassing bullying you learned at Eton or some ecole en Paris. Quoting your litany of genius ancestors like Plato, democracy hater. I can no longer listen to you and stay awake. So hush for a while and think, quietly, feel, until you have something to say…. About how your infatuation with wealth and superficial psyche are inconsistent with an unboiled planet, first confession. How you cannot persuade us anymore after a half millennium of threatening. You have not lost the habit of threat, have not picked up the skill of the listener not waiting to pounce while the quieter people ponder and reach. Try understanding, not winning. There is no reason to assume that we all feel you fondly, when you glaze your eyes and talk of your day when the sun never set, we don’t. Feel you at all. To be great again you have to have been decent, once, at least. Let that be your horizon, for the first time.
Too many think it is greater to do indecent things. I kept closing my eyes to that reality for years, but can't any longer. The young are older in maturity than the generations just over the hill from the baby boom. The ones who feel most entitled. I've lost faith in some people I once felt I knew well. But not all.
Too many think it is greater to do indecent things. I kept closing my eyes to that reality for years, but can't any longer. The young are older in maturity than the generations just over the hill from the baby boom. The ones who feel most entitled. I've lost faith in some people I once felt I knew well. But not all.