Iranian Child Martyrdom

 

Those of the faith endowed with the wisdom of 

years and piety know that solutions to seemingly

impossible dilemmas can be found through the

expedient of compelling the hand of god to point

the direction of proceedings. And so was seen

an answer to the problem of how battle-hardened

soldiers could march to the enemy lines and

escape triggering the minefields separating them

by sending platoons of tens of thousands of child

warriors appropriately bedecked to greet Allah

on their entry to Paradise as martyrs, entry keys

for secure passage around their necks, special permits 

signed by the great Ayatollah - his mouth to the ear 

of god following instructions that to save the 

Islamic Revolution, Iran must sacrifice its young 

and unlike Isaac whom the Almighty spared 

returning the child to Father Abraham, there was

no intervention for the martyrdom-impassioned

children of Iran, tutored to obey and to serve. 

 

 

Stylized Canadian Governance

 

To pose unabashedly as a cynic is not generally 

viewed with admiration but to be a sanctimonious 

cynic with only the sanctimony visible presenting 

as empathy and a desire to be of public service

is the hallmark of a political genius who instinctively

knows how to capture the  trust and loyalty of those 

targeted to bring a democratically elected leader 

to power through a willing electorate. Outgoing

personability, a modest demeanor, a winning smile 

promising sincere intent and a comely physical

appearance all initial aids to vaulting ambition 

by a practised egotist within a studied thespian 

with ambitions to make a nation his stage to 

international acclaim. In a climate of universal 

threat to public well-being heralding an opportunist

impassioned defence of looting the national treasury 

to gain the voting public's economic equilibrium

castigating the wealthy even while consorting 

with them as an equal the most efficiently effective 

insurance that a spirit of public indebtedness in

gratitude of trust installed through funding to 

those not needing it, but known to vote appropriately

in appreciation lends credence to the concerns of 

clear-eyed critics understanding full well that 

democracy is no guarantee of sound governance.

 

Destiny's Son's Smile

 

How void of suspense and drama would be the 

history of the world without the presence of those 

legendary creators of a new world order carefully 

arranged through revelations of divine intervention 

in search of the golden grail of destiny. When the 

vanishingly rare spark of genius alights to set fire 

in the cerebrum of one no one might suspect of 

consorting with the elevated powers of global 

conquest as its chosen possessor ascends the 

spiral staircase assigned to purpose the rise of a 

human construct of divine choice giving no option 

whatever to those comprising the great balance 

of humanity. Now chosen to lead a great empire 

toward its final place in the global order Prophet 

Xi by measures profoundly profane effectively

rises to the throne of empire, his place in history 

assured while lesser mortals with similar ambitions 

albeit lacking purposeful ascent emerge as mere 

footnotes to history as horrific serial murderers.

 

 

It's the Jews!

 

 

It is not yet known and possibly never will be

since the accursed creatures determined to

dominate the world and perhaps the universe

are notoriously averse to identifying themselves yet

represent a secretive cabal, from which primitive

planet drifting in the bleak darkness of outer space

they arrived possibly exiled by common decree

to befoul the serene accommodating and peaceful

aura that would pervade this globe were it not

for their hostile presence. They are heroes those

who recognize and deplore the mission of these

extra-terrestrials to destabilize the irenic glory of

the ship of Earth gliding through the ocean of sky

unrelenting in their revelations of the sinister plots

against humanity from ancient times to the present

of these interlopers seeking to command and to own

all the riches of the planet by stealth -- skilled at

covert schemes to install themselves at the  height

of society and government taking the reins of

finance and communication to steer the naive

in awe of their false benevolence in developing

hospitals and universities, humanitarian groups to

aid those in need, innovators to bring the world of

science into a modern era, music and art to delight

the soul in a massive conspiracy to deceive while

sweeping awards and recognition of superior

achievements, all designed to disarm suspicion in

their ultimate goal. Yet all is not lost for the world

can rely on the august body of the United Nations

and its stalwart minions to reveal the devilish ruse.

 

 

And Now Abideth Faith, Hope and Charity

All those humanly vital ingredients for survival
are there, in abundance, Faith, Hope, Charity.
Does the order and the singular manner of their
magnitude concern us in the dark night of despair?
Suffice that they manifest, for without those
sisters of survival, devastation, forlorn destitution
and graspingly greedy Death alone would remain.

One might assume that Dread Death had
feasted extravagantly enough as it was, consuming
a quarter million of Haiti's perennially
hopelessly indigent. But no, there he is, the
fallen angel, slavering over those newly delivered
to his bony maw by disaster-endemic choleric disease.

The millions of earthquake-displaced huddling
in makeshift hovels of canvas, plastic, paper and tin
against nighttime cold and winter rains, praise God
and fervently pray for deliverance from these
incessant tests of their simple faith. As they raise
voice in Hosannas their faith remains their hope.

They extend charity of thought toward the
outside world stricken by Haiti's pathetic presence
reflecting a people's miserable past, present and
destiny. Charity rains down heavy with morose
guilt from abroad as thousands of organized
charitable groups provide water, food, medicine.

Predators roam the squalid camps seeking out
the vulnerable; women and children. Who to keep
them safe from harm? People linger without
purpose, seeking comfort among their own, as
orphaned and lost children weep and seek
refuge and food to still their pangs of hunger.

Foreign governments pledge aid dollars that
slip effortlessly into the pockets of corrupt
officialdom. In crisply washed frilly dresses,
hair meticulously pigtailed, girls and women
join their menfolk in voodoo ritualistic ceremonies
and ruined cathedral masses where the bodies of
other faithful remain interred under the rubble.

In this ruined, bleak country the Three Graces
of timeless legend immortalized by human need
and nature's devastating deed, dance gracefully,
raising plummeting spirits. In Haiti, Faith, Hope
and Charity clasp one another with love and divine
forbearance. Well they might for what it avails. 

 

The Inner Self

 

 

Life is a difficult passage - from childhood
curiosity, stimulation and growing aspirations
to the development of memory, experience,
regret and profound concerns and finally,
disappointments. We are singularly fortunate
when the serendipity of personal fortune
outweighs the overlapping misfortunes that
are met and dealt with on our life-journey.

It is incumbent upon us all, in reflection of
the finer emotions we are gifted with, to care.
The manner in which we express that care, on
every conceivable level, identifies us as
individuals. When caring becomes an intolerable
burden that makes a misery of our lives, there
is a useful human antidote: humour.

There is no situation, however stressful and unhappy
in its dark bleakness that does not hint at humour
for even humour can have its grim edge, lifting
us from submission to despair. Before we
stretch the tether of emotional balance to its
snapping point, humour beckons to be heeded.

A lighter mood has its own perspective, capable
of reflecting hope and deliverance from the
destitution of lonely, devastating destruction of
confidence in the future. Where there is no hope,
there is no future. Where there is not future, there
is no reason to prolong life. The imperative is to
steer in the direction of life and the future. One
where the light of hope and comedic relief from
life's stressors liberate us from rejecting ourselves.

We can laugh and find humour everywhere; light
and carefree, or mercilessly dark. But humour,
withal. Transient but renewable, sturdily useful,
enrapturing at times, insightful and mind-directing,
it may become a tool of choice in our enduring
free-choice subliminal quiver of survivalist options.

 

 

Skip One Generation

 

It is a conundrum. Why, that is, people
have children. As a way to complicate lives,
nothing else quite matches child-rearing
for resulting agitation, confusion, frustration.
The child questions and challenges the parents'
authority while the parents attempt to fulfill
their parental mandate to guide, protect,
encourage and support their offspring.

Difficulties in achieving this most basic
of human social protocols, to obey nature's
first law of survival through genetic inheritance,
bumps hard up against nature's other imperative,
the child's quest for affirmation of independence.
The parent-child gulf of one separating generation
is so profoundly vast as to produce a malfunctioning
relationship not readily amenable to being breached.

The patent relief on the psyche of both parent
and child when they are finally free of one another's
daily puzzling divisions of temperament, values,
priorities, are profound. The parents' revenge, as it
were, is realized finally on seeing their children
join the ranks of parents themselves, confronted
by the very reflection of parent-child dissonance.

Only the grandparents are firmly in the child's
self-obsessed, entitled orbit, holding no brief for
their own children suddenly confronted by that
all-too-familiar challenge. Oppositional divides
widen, converge. The new parents' methodology
confronted by the old parents whose memory
of their own efforts remain sharply astringent .

Emotions lavished on the new generation in a
conspiracy linking children and grandparents,
excluding the parents, the agony of raising
children reveals its purpose as a necessary albeit
blighted tedium whose end result, the grandchildren
who can do no wrong, delights the grandparents
into a state of exuberant elderly amnesia.