Cherry trees line the broad avenues of L'Enfant's well-designed federal city, that became known as the District of Columbia, or Washington, D.C. They offer a beautiful blossomed, sweet-scented, new born dove of hope every spring-time in our nation's Capitol. This is particularly true during the inaugural years when a new President of the United States of America is about to take office and the buzz is everywhere that THIS will be the President that will bring us the law and order we desperately deserve.
The hope is that America's economy and its super-power reputation will be repaired and she will reclaim a dignified status upon the world stage. This will only be possible if the new commander-in-chief is bullet-proof, both literally and figuratively, for we as a people are unwilling to see change occur if it threatens our own personal Utopia or our ignorantly blissful dreams. From Abraham Lincoln to the Reverend Martin Luther King, Jr., many Americans have been martyred/murdered because of this mindset. The effect on American society would be devastating if this were to happen again. Columbia's arrows bristle in their quiver at the possibilities.
Selfless citizens of The United States of America give liberally to others of their time, money, knowledge, blood, sweat and tears, and yet they gain little respect outside of their own borders and in recent times even less within them, for all of their noble and generous offerings. Why is that dear reader? If America was your best friend, what advice would you give her about how to change that reality? Consider in your answer, not just the veterans in uniform enforcing our will abroad, but the faceless, mindless, masses of the hungry, the homeless, the oppressed, the unrecognized, the disabled, the disembodied, the mistreated, the malformed, the unrewarded, and the unsung heroes of everyday life that encircle this land of opportunity that flows with milk and honey. Like Tantalus, the promise of it flees from their thirsty lips every time they try and take a little sip of it.
In 1903, a bronze plaque was affixed at the base of the Statue of Liberty. It contained "The New Colossus," a poem written by poet Emma Lazarus, who was an admirer of Ralph Waldo Emerson. Lazarus died 16 years earlier, aged only 38. Her poem reads:
Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me.
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!
Lady Liberty's request has been fulfilled and now hopelessness. homelessness, unemployment and cheap labor abound. What now do we do with her charges? What about the rest of us, whose ancestors crowded out and murdered the native American Indian to gain his land and riches? Are we now to suffer the same ignominious fate due to our insecure borders and sloppy immigration policy, whose very enforcers are now jailed for trying? I am getting a bad feeling about this.
"Herbert Hoover, while campaigning in the 1928 presidential election, promised Americans a “chicken in every pot.” Unfortunately for Hoover, shortly after his election the stock market crashed, America tumbled into the Great Depression, and chicken quickly became impossible for the average person to afford. Americans, enraged by their chickenless pots, quickly gave Hoover the boot and elected Franklin D. Roosevelt in the 1932 election by a landslide." [Source: Daniel Lametti for the McGill Daily]
Once again history threatens to repeat itself. A new President-elect promises change with affordable housing and universal healthcare for all. Wait a minute! I am still waiting for my pot of chicken! And boy, am I getting hungry. Aren't you? What to do? What to do?
I'll tell you what to do. If all of the under-reviewed, unrepentant, shameless and under-published mob of AuthorsDen writers that toil DAY AND NIGHT, while creating under-read, unappreciated poetry, articles, books, etcetera, stood up and in one accord shouted at the top of their lungs, "We are mad as hell, and we are not going to take it anymore!" their reverberations would shake the very pillars of our dear Columbia, and of our entire society itself. Adolf Hitler, with his charismatic, hypnotic, lockstep appeal and fiery nationalistic speeches could never have achieved such a unified mob response as would have resounded here, were this overwhelming message to be delivered on the next generation of Internet technology's steps, exhibiting a true virtual-reality environment far beyond any present-day Second-Life concept or its ilk. Chickens would be flying into our pots. You are a vegan? Sorry, I have never seen a head of cabbage take up wings and fly, but have I ducked a few rotten tomatoes flying around here once or twice.
If George Orwell could just see us now! I wonder if he liked chicken? But I digress. Orwell, after foreseeing this technological revolution gone wrong, wrote the visionary, and near prophetic "1984," to warn us of the future danger of our ways. Who now will pick-up George's mantle, to further warn us of our impending enslavement? Who needs a new Orwellian masterpiece like " 1984" or "Animal Farm," or a contemporary Nostradamus with his 2012 prophecies ominously approaching us, when we have not even responded to the lessons of the originals? It is time for our very own prognosticators of doom right here under this very AuthorsDen roof to take up this challenge of constructing a new type of novel. One that incorporates all of the Orwellian warnings into the bots and today's all-seeing-eye of Horus that is the integrated embodiment of the Internet and the all encompassing world-wide web, including every type of terrestrial and space-based communication network of today.
I have first-hand knowledge here, as a former wide-area-network (WAN) analyst, who helped to oversee data, voice over IP (VOIP), and gigabit fiber-optic switching and router networks dominated by Cisco, Northern Telecom, IBM and the likes increase in capacity and capability. Of these entities, we are evermore dependent. Additionally, this is now completely interfaced and integrated into the telecommunications networks of AT&T, and all of the carriers that cross all boundaries, domestic and international. This beast is an animal of growing proportions that threatens to engulf us body, mind and spirit in a ubiquitous, unrelenting, well-polished, highly commercialized and seductive way. Warning! The teeth of the Hydra are upon us.
We must take up arms against allowing any others to control the door of our thinking for us. Am I right ye poets, patriots and valiant soldiers who speak with voice of the pen all? If all of the writers here ever spoke with a singularly clear voice, not only would America evolve, but the whole world would be turned upside down and changed overnight.
Our first solution necessary to begin dramatic, positive changes for the masses is to protect our "inalienable rights," as our founding fathers called them. I have got news for you. The founding fathers lied, because the rights are alienable, as aliens of all sub-types have been enjoying increasing use of them for years, while the citizen-soldier of truth and freedom among us has suffered waning access of them. This has been subtlety accomplished under our noses, while ignoring the approach of a Katrina-like storm, that threatens not only our liberty, but our very existence as self-willed, self-controlled, autonomously thinking human-beings. We must rise up as a literary nation to walk the walk and talk the talk using all talents and methods at our disposal. We must forceably take back our birthright as Americans, and not give it up for cheap bowl of soup for survival as the red-headed Esau did. We must write the wrong, in order to right the wrong.
I offer the following famous quotation and a few interesting side-notes about its author in support of this unusually rational proclamation coming my den that we ourselves can use the power of it and execute it enmasse to effect great change across the land. I draw my primary example from history, letting it speak loudly of its own accord, having yet found no better teacher among us:
"The pen is mightier than the sword." Edward George Earle Lytton Bulwer-Lytton, 1st Baron Lytton (May 25, 1803–January 18, 1873) was an English novelist, poet, playwright, and politician. Lord Lytton was a florid, popular writer of his day, who coined such phrases as "the great unwashed", "pursuit of the almighty dollar", "the pen is mightier than the sword", and the infamous incipit "It was a dark and stormy night." Despite his popularity in his heyday, today his name is known as a byword for bad writing. San Jose State University’s annual Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest for bad writing is named after him."
Source: Wikipedia the sword.
Despite my quoting of Bulwer-Lytton, any bad writing here is strictly my own doing, although my attempt to write a thought provoking article was well intentioned. The act of bad writing in itself is not dangerous; else the entire AuthorsDen would be in daily peril. Any danger created by such writing would require that someone outside of my 14 loyal-to-a-fault trackers actually would read it. I don't pay nearly enough attention to my proud, tireless trackers for enduring my demagoguery and by the estimation of some, my crazy, wildly irrational, pseudo-scientific and religious ravings here. In my defense, aside from the religious aspects, they said similar things about my dear Tesla in his day. I am proud to be included in such an unfairly ridiculed and intellectually esteemed company. Persecution is normal for me, as I seek to please God in my actions and my writing, however much I might fall short each day.
The point I seek to make is that by allowing me to write this you have given me and others who may follow in my foot-steps, the freedom to ascend to a potentially dangerous platform of constitutionally mandated, and militarily protected freedom-of-speech. With the results of my exercising my 1st amendment rights now careening wildly into view here, if I am not careful about the choice and timing of my words, I may get kicked off of the website, censored or arrested. In the case of my scientific and UFO writings, I have to be even more careful, as some in my position of knowledge, have disappeared or have been mysteriously killed. I have seen ugly things happen to people here before, for less noble reasons than this. Harrumph. You perpetrators and victims alike know what I am taking about! If only the bloody virtual walls of this website could talk and if the proper luminal and black-lights were applied here, I fear assassinated unpopular poets’brains would be found splattered everywhere. My poem, "Anno Domini," gives further thoughts on the subject.
So, "Justice and liberty for all...” Is that just a laughable euphemism or is it a practical, obtainable goal under ANY circumstances?
So many more would give of their time, wealth and themselves, providing it was not taxable or punishable by some formality of law, or subjected to jealous ridicule or intimidation by those mockers and bullies who wish to let others do all of the hard work and then criticize them for it. Imagine the power we could display if at all at once, suddenly and without prior warning to our enemies and protractors, that we using the element of surprise to our advantage, singularly spoke as a people finally putting ourselves first and foremost above all others by being true to ourselves as Americans.
I agree with Shakespeare, "The first thing we need to do is kill all of the lawyers." Unfortunately, to my knowledge those pictured on our money, did not leave us a legally enforceable method of this respectable goal. Probably, because with the exception of anyone holding another noble profession such as the farmers, who were not merely the framers of our American high ideals, but those whose hand remained fixed to the plow of democracy when the ground grew stony, the majority of the framers were rascals and lawyers themselves. Please, let me know if I am mistaken here, so if I am correct I may gladly draw the proverbial first-blood to cleanse the land of the villains of our Republic. Our patriots and veterans have already given theirs. It is time to remember their sacrifices and to even the score even more here at home in favor of a responsible, accountable, brand of liberty, lest we shall capitulate all of our freedoms at once, without a single shot being fired!
All of our failures are failures of the human condition, not just the American one, although I as an American certainly contribute my share of woe and consumption of planetary resources relative to the size of my carbon-foot print than is fair, in relation to that of the larger population of human beings living on this over-crowded Earth. It is the same failure of conscience that rewarded the betrayer Judas Iscariot 30 pieces of silver to turn-coat on Jesus Christ, the greatest human-being who ever lived, even with all his deity set aside for sake of argument. This was all done in the first place, so that the status quo could be maintained by the few that enjoyed its benefits, as it had up to that point in history always been a successful strategy in the past. Maybe this article is too boisterous for your taste, but having read this far, I hope you will bear with me a little longer to reach the conclusion, and then fire back with mighty rebukes and rebuttals in response. This shall provoke me far more that your infernal silence usually does, as the silent treatment shall only cause me to write all the more until I am made to cease and desist!
Laugh derisively while you can my fellow provocateurs, for I think you must pose and answer without fear or hesitation, while there is still time, the larger questions of life in these United States, of which I offer a mere pittance of here by example. This will set the stage for wider, more elegant and nobler solutions to our problems, including the ones written in other works by your very own illiterati. This is a humble group to which this author proudly and woefully admits to belonging. I am after all a populist at heart!
Actually my friends, I hear the wonderful shrill whistle of my shiny copper kettle on the boil. It is time for coffee and tea. I like a little sugar in mine, but my diabetes reckons otherwise, so I must do with a little cream instead. Therefore, forgive me while I momentarily prepare my Earl Grey, and then attempt to carry on busily with the struggle alongside my fellow soldiers of free-speech and creativity. Carpe Diem, ye poets all! For as my Lord once said, and I think it applicable here also, "I must work the works of him that sent me, while it is day: the night cometh, when no man can work." John 9:4
John Rockie Coppolella
American, Christian, Statesman, Mad-Scientist and Tea-drinker