“Rivers belong where they can ramble
Eagles belong where they can fly
I've got to be where my spirit can run free.
Gotta find my corner, of the sky.” (Corner of the Sky/Stephen Schwartz/’Pippin’)
Eagles belong where they can fly
I've got to be where my spirit can run free.
Gotta find my corner, of the sky.” (Corner of the Sky/Stephen Schwartz/’Pippin’)
It is the first day of July! July 1, 2020, and as the seventh month of one of the longest years in history is upon us, we have endured a series of events, which seem to pile on, pile up, push us down, and want to count us out. Summer’s here and the time is not right for dancing in any street, because along with you are the invisible army of a virus with spindly tentacles waiting to grab onto your lungs, seeping un-serendipitously via your nose, your eyes your mouth and as you dance all they want is to smother you with unloving veracity! And as dangerous as these invisible villains might be, those who sneak up on us and catch us off guard, it the right in your face newly anointed villains who we should fear more than ever. It’s the folks who prefer to proudly spit in your face and say my freedom is more valuable than your health. No one tells ME what to when I don’t want to do it, and if anyone is going to be the boss it is me and m selfish motives; motives with no meaning except to make me feel exceptional! And the CORONAVIRUS is no longer a medical or scientific item or a fete of nature demonstrating the power and veracity of something bigger than all of us, no it has become a tool, a weapon, a light bulb on a porch on a summer evening, a ruse, and excuse a trick by Trump to divide the smart from the dumb, the ignorant from the intelligent, and the American who thinks patriotism is not being a member of the village but owning the village and banning those they believe are inferior!
It is July 1, 2020. It is 126 days until what might seem like the coming of a New Year, or 126 days until we stop counting years and begin finding ourselves in an endless dystopia, a form of a Russian Gulag Archipelago. Our Troops have become targets shoot one, kill two murder three or more, and win a Bounty. Our president knew nothing, then knew something, then knows not at all what happened. We are led to believe from a team of liars that way back as in March of 2019 when the news of paying the Taliban to murder American Troops, even though the facts were frightening enough to share with German and Great Britain, those same facts were not fit for Humpty Trumpty, because if he heard about them he might fall off the wall. Don’t nobody bring me no bad news, his cowering spineless Flying Monkeys were told, especially if that news was in regard to Putin. So fuck the security and safety of American women and men in uniform, if Putin was doing bad things, telling Trump would only make the mad hatter even madder. And now, we still hear crickets from the Senators of the Republican Party, we are to be more concerned about the leaking of the story so the politically positioned INTEL Chiefs tell us. And Trump acts shocked and demurs’ and denies and deflects.
Black Lives Matter, we are told, except, some police continue to play ROBO-COP. Children are still imprisoned in Concentration Camps made from defunct Wal Mart Warehouses. Good Nazis and Confederates roam the streets acting as well-armed militias and no one is calling them traitors. Masks are a political plaything until the Liberal Hoax hits the Red States, then it is suddenly something take seriously. A PANDEMIC is just for Third World Countries and is still considered one more Progressive overreach by the government to remove personal freedoms. Unemployment is catastrophic, except for those whose income was so high, that the Trump Administration decided they had too much money and needed not to pay taxes. States whose record’s on voter fraud, initiated by their Republican-led legislators and Governors now are trying to convince the inane and insane that real voter fraud (you know closing polling places last minute, leaving boxes of ballots in some basement, intimidation at the voting station will disappear and so will the chances of Republicans victories) can only happen by mail-in-voting. And I think of the lyrics from the play ‘Pippin’, I've got to be where my spirit can run free. Gotta find my corner, of the sky.”
