The ghost of September's past comes to remind us hate is universal. Hate is the active ingredient, hate is warm and fuzzy. You can do anything with hate, building dead children's play grounds, just you and me. Together we are one in hate all of our differences buried in hate, all of our hate buried in indifference. We are one in this hate. We are not powerless, if we can hate! Through the eons of time hate is our constant, our guiding star, building a monument to the devil we call God. Oceans of blood the piteous millions cry out with tears we can't hear, deafened by hate.
One word, one spark, one promise one cry. A face, a religion or a people wronged all made whole in hate. From rocks and spears to knives and swords to guns to missiles to bombs and atoms we shall be victorious, righteous and pure once we slay all the evils doers and their children. A back door in our souls a Manchurian candidate calling out in us something we didn't even know was there. Somebodies got something which isn't theirs somebodies taking something from you. Something you didn't even know was yours, something valuable and dear something missing in a fog. This siren song of hate wants you to sing along.
The Eloi they hear the sirens and quietly march along, suffering with the diseases of decadence the diseases of desperation and the diseases of a blackened soul made holy by a balm of hate. The Electronic towers of Babble the preachers inflaming the holy rabble. Beheadings and shedding the cloak of humanity for the instantaneous devil in our eyes. This sorcerer's apprentice makes it possible to hate anyone, anywhere at any time, round the clock twenty-four hours a day.
What divinity is left for us? What good can the future hold for us now? What is the point when the issue is no longer in question? Let's murder and live stream, let's bomb on CNN and fabricate on Fox. The news is the news, but bloody murder is better news! Fires rage as towers fall, questions details answers and perpetrators all buried in the rubble buried in the hate. It takes genius to build but any fool sow seeds of hate. Under a sheet or a hideous red banner from Main Street to a big White House. To hide from their hate to celebrate their hate to make ones self-small as the big shot of hate.
History will remember but will not correct, we are flawed goods, defectives. Cave dwellers, slave sellers Empires rising into the sky and crashing back into the dust through eternity. Robots and rocket ships, micro-chips and miracle cures telling us we have a better side, buried in the dollars buried in the flowers. The machine tools of death march on smiling at us and mocking us.
Today we will remember, tomorrow we will forget. When did that happen, what year was that again? As the sun melts the ice away, we grow colder. Anesthetized, agnosticized and euthanized crying from the pulpit, faith can move mountains, but hate can kill millions. Is there any hope for us, sometimes the prospects look dim.
4
2
1
