"Your Social Credit Score": Another Cultural Inevitability

Thank God for Freedom in this country,
For the Red, White, and Blue!
Am I right...Who's with me?!

Thank God we're not living in a Communist Manifesto,
A place where everything we do is used against us--
Can I get an Amen, anybody?!

Fourth of July and Apple Pie and Baseball
And you get a phone and I get a phone and
We all get a phone, right, everybody?!

But it's happening, right now,
Out West from us--a wilder, wilder West from us--
And it's headed our way, whether we like it or not.

It's coming for us.
(Crickets chirping app, somebody...)

Nobody's so worried, right now, just now,
About Facebook and SmartPhones, Siri and Alexa,
But we should be, shouldn't we?!

One day they're going to eat our lunch,
And determine our comings and goings for us.
But let's not think about that, right?!

That's all about them, across the world,
They asked for it, the Commies, because that's what they do!
They're not at all like us, after all.

After all...
After all...
Quick--! Bury your head in the sand!

It's coming for us.
(Crickets chirping app...Anybody?)


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This post is based on the article found on FoxNews.com, June 20, 2018, "John Stossel: Forget Facebook, Here's What I Worry About Much, Much More..."
http://www.foxnews.com/opinion/2018/06/20/john-stossel-forget-facebook-google-heres-what-worry-about-much-much-more.html

Rewriting Inconvenient History: A Swiftian Musing

So...

I had a student last semester
Who informed me that his little sister
Was learning that the Trail of Tears was
Was a "mutual agreement" between
The Natives and the U.S. Government.

Yes, of course it was!

Who wouldn't jump at the chance
Of being relocated to unknown lands
Teeming with limitless possibilities,
Land hitherto "untouched" by the
Countless migrants over the centuries?

That's called "greener pastures," baby!

These Natives left all they knew
And launched off, with their limited resources,
To prove they were not intimidated by
The encroaching pale faces, with all the gusto
Of those in a modern-day Survivor episode.

It's all been a reality show, brother!

The starvations and deaths were unfortunate
Consequences of moving in the wrong time of year
And a lack of reliable resources
In their marathon trek to mid-America;
But definitely a "character-building" moment, as they say.

There's a real lesson to learn here!

The following song is to be taught to the children
Of this generation, so they may never know
Why their history books are unique versions
Of all those that came before them--
Sung to the tune of a nursery rhyme:

(singing) When it is inconvenient history,
(shouting) We will rewrite it!
(singing) When its horrors cannot be ignored,
(shouting) We will rewrite it!
(singing) When no one wants to admit their sin,
(shouting) We will rewrite it!

Yes, children, yes!

Valley Shadows

I have been there,
In the valley.

I have seen them--
The valley shadows.

And I have lived to
Tell about them.


"Yea, though I walk through the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me, Thy rod and staff, they comfort me." --Psalm 23:4

"Seasons of Life": A Rendering Of Love and Pain

One morning, during my devotion time, I had the passing of my grandparents on my mind. Poppa passed in December of 2017 and Gran passed in January of 2018.

We had been so fortunate to have had them for so long--part of me is grateful, so grateful!--but because I had them for so long, they are part of me, my core person, and their loss is not something I'm dealing with well.

Underneath the surface, deep waters stir within me, making variant sized waves, sometimes making me ill, sometimes forcing me to entertain sweet memories of everything that made them them to me.

Most days, I am successful in pushing back the emotion, restraining the tears (none of which will change anything), but there are days where they spill out--onto my face, or onto my pages.

I miss them sorely. I miss everything about them. They were, in many ways, like parents to me. They are part of who I am. It is difficult, so difficult, some days, to come to terms with their passing, the loss, my ineffable sadness.

But I take comfort in the page. All my life, with ink and paper, in this moment with keyboard and screen. I pour out my heart on a page...pour it out, then push all else below, back where the deep waters stir...

Until the next time, they overflow again, onto page or screen...

When I close my eyes--at night--

When I close my eyes--at night--
I say a prayer for the day/s I have known:
Thank you, Lord, for the life I have had,
For my daughter and my husband,
For every blessing I have been given,
To date.

But I know, just as I close my eyes,
The next day may be the day when
Everything as I have known it changes.
I am not guaranteed a life that looks
Like the one I'm living today,
To date.

For months now, not a night goes by
That I don't wake up once, twice--
Wide awake and half alert--
Spirit uneasy, so I begin my search:
I grab my phone and go to headlines,
To date.

What I'm looking for, I'll never tell--
Is there indication of war? Terrorism?
Attacks on faith? Fear arising?
I search the left, the right, the international,
Night after night, checking for leads,
To date.

Thus far, I feel only the tremors
Of impending change, of what is to come.
I've not seen the headline confirming it
(To my relief and to my chagrin).
I'm not quite sure what it is I need to pray for,
To date.

Yet, as sure as I'm breathing (now),
And as sure as I'm sitting here typing this,
I know that I know that one night,
When I close my eyes--at night--all will change
Forever: and all I will have are these musings,
To date.