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Suddenly, your pupils dilate to contradictory things: the visuals of fanatics craving blood over a cartoon; the commentary on the death of a Civil Rights Activist (whatever that was)- a Woman and a Fighter, without guns, but with a Voice; a vote that virtually sends the Green Signal to feed a Nation (no matter how limited its own morality) to the Dogs, (sometimes, in careless moments, called the United Nations.) You close the pages of the past and quietly await the Future of this, the World After History. Neil Young calms your nerves with his ode to the Harvest Moon. You watch the Earth burning quietly and its people (barely people any more), playing Death in a game where the Winner takes All.
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aGn
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