Worst word is the best way to stop the hyena

destephens Uncategorized , , , ,

What to write when there’s everything to say? What words to use when more and more words just wreck our hearts, already weary after weeks of pumping blue blood to a boil?

Yes, for an undetermined majority of Americans it’s that bad right now. We seek refuge from a storm of our own doing, while knowing somewhere in those tired hearts a bigger, more ferocious squall must sweep this nation and blow us back to some safer, higher ground.

Gleefully, the miserable hyena reminds us of our world-class blunder. His adoring hordes egg him on. He’ll say anything! They admire his ease of ugliness. They seem to know that when he hits the deck in the morning, he is thinking only of himself, and not that hard. They don’t give this much thought. Thinking hard only brings headaches and reflection. And why go through all that unneeded pain when there’s just so much blood to spill?

Buried in the shallow depths of his thinking this week — and,  my God, it was but curb deep — the hyena unwittingly gave himself away. He was verbally assaulting a prayer breakfast. The transcript must be seen to be believed. Deep inside his unhinged comments , he barked this:

“I will tell you that and I tell you that from somebody that has had material success and knows tremendous numbers of people with great material success, the most material success. Many of those people are very, very miserable, unhappy people”

While I’d bet bundles he’s clueless, I wouldn’t wager a penny you need a couch and some psychiatrist to figure out who he was talking about.

So while searching for words and phrases that go to the point, it occurs to me that all the heartless hyena is trying to do is drag us down to his miserable level.  The hyena doesn’t think deeply because he’s scared he might see the light. Why should he be forced to see what we have to? And where’s a hyena without a heart to go when there’s just so much damn light?

The trick is to pull us all down into his darkness, and then magically lift us back up. And do it all while standing on our necks.

We’ve never been a civilized nation really. Oh, occasionally we’ve worked toward it. We just went through eight years of an effort toward inclusion and making everybody count. And let me tell you, that was some trick. You try balancing a Great Recession and a war or two on one tired hand, while trying to lift everybody up with the other.

Now try to do that with the weight of the courts, senate and congress pressing down, and trying to knock the stool from beneath your feet.

And if all that wasn’t hard enough … try accomplishing that as a black man.

If you are a heartless, miserable hyena, heroics like that need punishing.

There have already been more scandals and ugliness in the hyena’s first two weeks in the White House than Obama had in two terms. There is havoc being wreaked and scores being settled. There is blood all over our sidewalks. Fights are being picked and re-picked — and with plenty of relish. It is get-even time all over the republic. Done right, the whole world will pay.

So what to write when there is everything to say?

War.

War is coming to mind more and more. War — easily the most disturbing word in the English language.

And yet it seems the only reasonable way to stop the latest madness in a land unsettled by immigrants so many centuries ago.

So we keep fighting, because agreeing will only drag us further into the darkness.

Words will be our guide. Unending action will be our weapon. Nobody has to die, but we do have to win.

What do you say?

Written By

destephens

Lived everywhere. Started in Africa, then to America, then to Europe, then ... back to America, which lately seems to pride itself in going back. Almost made it 30 years in print journalism, before it all went bad. Really? Don’t think things are bad, eh? Who’s your new president, pal? How did that happen? Because it all went bad.

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2 Comments

  1. OK WOW. I so love your writing style. It has ‘that thing’ I most love about Toni Morrison and Oscar Wilde. Turns of phrase that weave in and around – almost missably and all the more delightful for that. “In a land unsettled by immigrants… ” … I bet even as my lousy, cluttered memory fades with time, that will be one of the things I remember the longest. 💖

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