Political Drama in the Cold Cellar.

 This is our cold-storage building.

We keep our potatoes in a sack in here,

and some apples I buy in bulk

in the late fall,

which are then wrapped individually in newspaper.

They keep from rotting for several months because they are protected

in this building.

The kids are always intrigued to peek into the cold, lightless room

whenever one of us has to step into it.

The other week my husband was in there,

when he called to me

as I happened to be passing by outside.

He pointed to something on the ceiling.

But, what was it?

 Yes, it looks like it was a spider,

but what in the world happened

and why is it just staying that way?

 I'm sure there must be some explanation,

and certainly some great comparison I could use for this situation.

Really.

But what?

 Could I somehow compare it to those politicians?

You know,

the politicians that are for sale,

who say what people want to hear,

but seem to not be living on the ground

where we do?

Those politicians:

people who are supposed to represent us,

to be standing in our place,

for our good,

for the good of the country,

and yet they seem in a world apart from our own?

People whose tongues speak,

but they seem to say nothing,

who answer questions with vague,

empty

hoola-hoop dances.

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly,

only it's not always easy to decipher which is whom

or what mixture each may contain.

Hmmm....

politicians?

 Or maybe the media...

 

that great machine that twists and turns and shapes stories

to grab attention,

work an agenda,

glamorize, patronize, monetize, dehumanize, pretty-the-lies

by twisting the truth or bending or fabulousizing reality;

sniping where it deems it needed, or justified, or strategic;

brandishing it's street side verdict

before the evidence is in:

til one is left standing there

not sure which way up is from down,

truth from error,

legitimacy from monstrosity?

Hmmm...

the media.

What is one to think?

Where is the right path?

Should we search for truth,

pray for mercy and guidance,

for forgiveness for our error?

Is there a route from a path that we have descended 

losing sight of

the rights of the people,

the respect of the people,

the honor of the Sovereign;

a twisted trail that has bumped and bartered our freedoms,

not just over 4 or 8 year terms,

but increasingly sickly, greedy, dependent generations?

If we are getting more intelligent,

why have we lost so much self-respect,

self-dependence,

self-control?

Or does self-respect come from more than one's self;

are these self-motivations actually a result of dependence

on the God who gives the proper self-image:

one wrapped in humility, gratitude, compassion, defense of right,

hard work, honesty;

the ten commandments fleshed out:

a decided standard of right and wrong?

Or maybe...

maybe this would better be compared...

to those who don't care.

Maybe this analogy

would somehow work...

for those who don't vote, don't take a stand,...

they just don't.

Those who don't see the necessity of looking beyond the ugliness of politics,

the glare of the media;

who don't search for the truth and the light

that is left 

somewhere in the midst of the dark, thick tumult.

Those whose vision is marked by closed eyelids,

asleep to the errors marked in history,

to the evils of apathy and the laissez-faire approach,

to the foolishness of neglect,

to what that choice would produce:

a broken ship's wheel,

spinning,

veering the once glorious vessel toward shipwreck,

or the worse fate of

the skull and cross-bones marauding pirate ...

Well, I'm sure it must work for something that has been battering my mind lately.

But one thing I know,

I'm glad this woolly white didn't find refuge and safety

in the feed sack of potatoes.

Linking up to:
Newlifeonahomestead: Mondays-homestead-barn-hop
Gnowfglins.com 
Lifemadelovely-blog