When Will We Learn? Essay, Research Paper
The Gods must be brainsick. Strange pollen is in the air. Like Mr. Dylan said, The times, they are a-changin. What has it been, 30 old ages since he penned that line? What has changed? America, as a whole has wallowed in the booby traps of it s ain failures and errors for so long that we can t look to interrupt through this bad wont. Siting here in out unreal pride and nationalism as we go out on the limb of World War Three. We tap dance on the landmines of universe laterality. We are non in control any longer. And yet, we think he hold this power over all. And it s this expansive feeling of strength that fills our weakening Black Marias every clip we look at that flag, that is traveling to distribute it s toxicant through out us when we least anticipate it. The times they are a changin. Or at least we thought they were. Or have we merely spent our lives covering up every menace, dissembling every failure, and so continue with progresss with hopes that they will dominate that atrocious truth? The fact of the affair is, we have grown excessively comfy. Spontaneity is dead and gone. Or maybe it is merely buried alive, and person or something will delve through the dirt and resuscitate the American Dream. Because it has been discarded from our heads. We have lost that motive, that interior thrust, that bosom and psyche of what made this blistered state look to be great. We ve degenerated so far that now the warts are get downing to emerge from underneath the surface. Underneath where the truth lies. And the truth lied underneath because no one of all time learns from their errors. No 1 owns up to the duty. Which explains this whole struggle in Kosovo. God willing this will be the terminal of times, the concluding straw. On the threshold of atomic war. Just wipe the whole screw universe, and cut God a interruption from holding to make it himself. Of class, that is what the book of Revelation is truly stating. I don t candidly find the revelatory nature of that book really awful, non after I stop and take one expression around me. I don t think that I will be woken from the sounds of slumber by the beckoning blows of huntsman’s horns from the sky to see Jesus Christ descend from the clouds. No! He can t descend. There is no topographic point for him to travel. Remember, we are dead and gone by our ain determinations before God was given that opportunity to make it for us. Nothing s shocking. I m non surprised by any of this. I can t state I saw it all along, but I knew in the dorsum of my head that we are non one state under God, and that the lone enemies we genuinely have are ourselves. Certain, there s Saddam Hussein, and he is decidedly an resistance, but we had him, we had the asshole no, non we, Bush had him. Bush had the perfect chance but he chose another path. The path to reelection in 1992. It s a pathetic image to paint, but the truth is that the president of the United States gave up on Hussein because he wanted to protect his image. He was merely bemused with himself and how he could keep his image in T
he thick of the mayhem. So he chose non to free the universe of that monster. Yet I am non surprised by his egotistic egoism. After all, he is a Republican. But you know what? Now, we have to cover with it all over once more, merely this clip, we have to postulate with this Goddamn state of affairs in Kosovo excessively. Hussein sees his opportunity, his blessed chance to bring down whatever the screw splenic fever shit he s got onto everyone. The clip is so perfect. Like it was written in the stars, our painful destiny is unknoting. No. Not written in the stars, but in Revelation. Not that I proclaim to be anything spiritual, but bot that I think about it, I believe that if there is a God, he is reigning in his ain small Eden watching his people fuck up and destruct themselves.
That is his program. And why shouldn T it be? The fact they were handed so much to work with merely to kill ourselves by our ain patterned advances makes the whole thing even more saddening. It s supposed to do us larn. But when did America of all time learn from its errors? Possibly if we didn Ts have Nazi research workers like Kenneth Star, we could hold taken a long difficult expression into the devastation of the hereafter. But no! No, we had to sit through infinite accusals and Television studies that boiled down to one cardinal thing. Our president, Mr. William Jefferson Clinton, likes the occasional cock sucking. He had and matter. Jesus Christ, this is non the terminal of the universe ; this is the beginning of recognizing that we have a president who is really human. I don t want to come across like I am warranting Clinton, but when push comes to jostle as every political docket does, thank God he wasn t impeached. No 1 wants to see Al Gore in office. Jesus, nil would acquire done with that dead, subhuman, robotic, tree caressing, conservationist, PC-enforcing, humanoid, boy of a bitch in office. Good fortune in the approaching election though. Christ, Gore is a screw air current up plaything that merely makes its manner to a wall and so attempts to press on, but since there is a wall at that place, it goes perfectly nowhere. But it keeps traveling back and Forth as it tries to travel forth. Self image. That s all we are. A parody. A Godforsaken parody of lost hopes and dreams. And we are far excessively comfy with our defects. The times they are a changin, eh? Seems like a sleep togethering rut to me. We need something flooring. We need something to convey the American people together once more. Possibly that s all we need. Possibly this International Relations and Security Network t the terminal of times after all. Maybe we merely necessitate one clout in the face to turn out it to us, something that will do us look into each other and from so on genuinely advancement. After all, the elections are coming up the twelvemonth 2000. Y2K. I believe that something improbably flooring and deprecating is traveling to go on to our state that will open our eyes that have been sewed shut of all time since the Reagan-Bush epoch. After all, it will be the twelvemonth 2000, the perfect twelvemonth to maintain our apparently ceaseless 20 twelvemonth expletive alive. Nothing like an blackwash to convey the state together.