The Red Light on the Horizon

Yeah, you see it, too, don’t you? That’s beautiful horizon, without a doubt, a gorgeous tableau of sky and light and lit-up clouds. You do see that luminous red light over in the corner. Though. Yes, it’s quite spectacular, on it’s own, but you do know what it portends, don’t you?

The US military is overmassive on its own, but the rest of the countries of the world could also be counted on catching up to this 3.9 trillion war machine/ dollar great boondoggle of all time if they were to be permitted a headway into  the industrial manufacture of humanity-dooming armaments.  Yes, we do have same-sex marriage in many states, and yes, there are Title IX girls’ softball teams all over the country, but no, we have not arrested a single dollar of the military budget of the world’s powers. The Battle for Seattle did not stop a single bomber. The Occupados sure enough wrested control of a a couple of city parks, while overhead and throughout space a multiple of billions of wasted fossil fuel bomber technology continued their real or practice runs. Former monk redoubts transitioned their corporate plunder into carpeted and wi-fi’d classrooms to get the latest generation of feted progeny to swoon with righteous idealism that might intersectionality the world into a whole new better one, at the cost of small fortunes, but each of the newly minted worker bees for the Aemrican Raj was not to lessen one dime for the imperial war machine.  Talk of cis-gendered oppression versus cis-boom-bah heternormativity might have dulled the hormonal rage among the pallid youth, but not one arms manufacturer had anything to worry about. Every citizen, except for the feather-twirling ancient pacifist religious abstainers confined to a few dozens and the fields of yore, gathered in the war machine propaganda, the army and navy and marine credit union commercials, and gave the nod to all the politicians, even the Bern, who voted along with the gibbering hordes for “jobs”  for F-35s and jobs for killing and jobs for the military, at the cost of very last social promise ever had.

You know what that corner of red sky signifies. Nature works on cause and effect, not superstition and hope. The oceans are done absorbing the effluent of the “Leave it To Beaver”  times of cantilevered mass innocence. We’ll all be penning elegies to those times we remembered, when Progress seemed the human patrimony, not this supersystemic calamity that the big and beautiful sky, with its vibrating, tensile red clouds, assures us is heading our way, night after encroaching night.

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