reply to post by Hefficide
Truthfully, I have seen the nation more divided. During the 60s it was pretty unpleasant at times. The difference is the ignorance and sensationalism.
While the mainstream media sought to be dispassionate and moderate, today it seeks only to inflame and makes appeals to emotionalism. I offer a poem
and some encouragement. I will begin with the encouragement.
We are seeing a world in transition, technology is providing opportunities for both good and bad. The vast majority of people are not involved in
determining how the world will change and it frustrates them, they fear the unknown and jump to emotional conclusions. Fear mongers push people to
overreact to everything and politics is now nothing more than the theater of the absurd.
A lot of people like to talk about they are "awakened". In fact, they are merely exposed to things that are far from new because the internet
provides them with information is simple forms. A ten minute video by someone like Alex Jones does not make someone informed or awake. This shall
pass, it has before, it his the birth of a new paradigm and birth is always painful and scary.
I am sorry that you are feeling challenged and for the disruption in your family life. I have always found you to be rather reasonable in your words
and not prone to extremes; but, fear drives the masses to extremism and absolutism and there is much uncertainty. Peace.
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939)
THE SECOND COMING
Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: a waste of desert sand;
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Wind shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?