-Caveat Lector-
Begin forwarded message:
From: [EMAIL PROTECTED]
Date: June 14, 2007 12:22:32 PM PDT
To: [EMAIL PROTECTED]
Cc: [EMAIL PROTECTED], [EMAIL PROTECTED], [EMAIL PROTECTED]
Subject: Huck Finn, Meet Buck Foosh
America’s Nostradamus
06/14/2007 - 04:44.
http://www.diatribune.com/america-s-nostradamus
There’s no doubt that a good argument could be made, and often is,
that the most famous of American prognosticators is none other than
the enigmatic Edgar Cayce, and I certainly would never take
anything away from his extraordinary psychic achievements. But, I
talk today about another man with the gift of sight, a soothsayer
wrapped in the illusory façade of a simple humorist whose
intelligence and foresight was both underestimated and
underappreciated back in his day. However, today he's proving to be
the Nostradamus of American life whose forward vision was leaps and
bounds ahead of his own 19th-Century.
I first read The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn when I was eleven-
years old. At the time, bound by my underdeveloped powers of
comprehension, the level of Twain’s patriotic capaciousness escaped
me. But his ability to use humor to reveal the hidden nuances of
American life did not. His rapier wit and excoriating literary
style cast a beacon into not only the sentiency of 19th-Century
adolescence in Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer, but also, in his later
works, the collective mindset of a country struggling through an
era of onslaught by corporate elitists and their chickenhawk
marionettes in Washington – an era much like we find ourselves in
today.
Twain’s The Mysterious Stranger, first published back in 1916, (six-
years after his death) is exponentially darker than his prior
works. And, unlike Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn, this magniloquent
masterpiece disallows the reader the comfort of cloaking his/her
emotions behind a puerile front. It dares to question the beliefs
and ideals insidiously instilled deep in the American psyche by our
perennially propagandist government.
The Mysterious Stranger takes the unwitting reader on a surreal
journey to mankind’s darker side. It exploits, as only Mark Twain
can - our irrational fears and propensity for solving all our
problems with violence – be it burning witches at the stake – or
waging wars serving only the “… little monarchs and their [petty]
nobilities.”
As we find ourselves a day deeper into the delusional morass of
blood, guts and ignominy that is Bush’s perpetual war, Twain’s
words ring even truer than he ever intended:
"The loud little handful will shout for war then the handful will
shout louder. A few fair men on the other side will argue and
reason against the war with speech and pen, and at first will have
hearing and be applauded; but it will not last long; those others
will out shout them and presently the anti-war audiences will thin
and lose popularity. Before long, you will see the most curious
thing: the speakers stoned from the platform, and free speech
strangled by hordes of furious men. And now the whole nation will
take up the war cry, shout itself hoarse, and mob any honest man
who ventures to open his mouth; and presently such mouths will
cease to open.”
Ahh, but Mr. Twain’s just getting started. He nails it with this
passage:
"Next the statesmen will invent cheap lies, putting the blame upon
the nation that is attacked, and every man will be glad of those
conscience-soothing falsities, and will diligently study them and
refuse to examine any refutations of them; and thus he will by and
by convince himself that the war is just, and will thank God for
the better sleep he enjoys after the process of grotesque self-
deception."
Don’t forget, it’s been more than nine-decades since Mr. Twain
wrote the above missive, and it was published just about the same
time as the decider guy’s war-profiteering ancestors first started
making their blood-millions by selling out our country.
Alas, at this dangerous time in history, this once great country is
left with (incurious) George; the least likely of our presidents to
read the clarion messages left by our most patriotic predecessors,
let alone learn by them.
By contrast, this cretinous man remains bunkered down in the now-
defiled White House, adamant to carry out his costly hegemonic wars
and whispers of wars - no matter what the people say. Meanwhile,
every new chasm he creates in this country; every new religious
contention or political wall; every new subversion of our
Constitution brings this country closer to a precipice reserved
only for the fallen, ignominious empires of history. Mr. Twain
wonders aloud why free men would follow such despots:
"But what does it amount to? Nothing at all. You gain nothing. You
always come out where you went in. For a million years, the race
has gone on monotonously propagating itself and monotonously re-
performing this dull nonsense… and to what end? No wisdom can
guess. Who gets a profit out of it? Nobody but a parcel of usurping
little monarchs and nobilities who despise you; would feel defiled
if you touched them; would shut the door in your face if you
proposed to call -- he for whom you slave, fight for, die for, and
not ashamed of it but proud."
So, was Twain’s story of The Mysterious Stranger just the figment
of a small child’s imagination… or was it real?
To me, the meaning is all too real, and it’s been there as a
presage all along for those curious enough to seek its wisdom. The
war is also real, frightening and falsified, and in the end, it
cannot be mitigated by a few horrific images and editorials.
Nothing can ever describe the despondent moment when a mother
receives the bullet-ridden corpse of a son or a forlorn father
grieving, kneeling over the shattered body of a daughter.
And what of the children, the innocent ones who’ll never grow to
know the lighter works of one Mr. Samuel Langhorne Clemens. Why
must it be that the children reap only the malicious manifestations
of his dark foretelling?
"Concentration of power in a political machine is bad; and an
Established Church is only a political machine; it was invented for
that; it is nursed, cradled, preserved for that -- it is an enemy
to human liberty, and does no good which it could not do better in
a split-up and scattered condition."
In the end, these wars of aggression are all too real, even more so
than I have to believe even Mr. Clemens envisioned on his darkest
day; too lurid, and even worse, all our own doing, whether by
supporting, financing and fighting.. or by staying silent as it
rages on.
The time for silence is over.
Throw da bums out.
Peace
See what's free at AOL.com.
www.ctrl.org
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