Monday, May 24, 2010


To the Bullies
(by R.P.Edwards)

Here’s to the bullies
And all of their ways
Using their “powers”
To hurt and dismay
Reciting and roaring
Their mantra…of ME!
While killing and eating
Their fodder…of thee
Yes, here’s to the bullies
How fleeting their reign
Of pointed persuasion
By fear
And by pain
For time will dethrone them
They’ll vanish as air
With none to remember
For “none” …was their care

It was a strange, and ironic turn of events.  CEO, F.P. Jones, of the Sun Gathering Corporation (a fairly new alternative energy company, located in the Mojave desert) had, just two hours prior, left the rank and file at the main plant and now, just ten miles from, he was walking in 110 degree heat because his classic Mercedes convertible (’71 280SL) died from a pesky “short” he hadn’t bothered to fix.  And this “forget” was compounded by the “at home” phone.   Anyway, stripped of his dark Brioni suit jacket and bold Kiton tie, he, his Forzier shirt unbuttoned to the buckle, barely shuffled along the right side of the blazing ribbon, confident that one of the “union guys” who got off at four would stop and give “the big cheese” a ride to safety.  Although repulsed by the thought, he knew that the salaried, who he had thoroughly  “laid into” at their lunch time gathering, wouldn’t be by for at least two more hours and, surely, surely!, one of the “ union scum” would stop and help the ’Big Boss’ before he keeled over; dead.  Well, they got “off” alright.  One after another they came and went and, although the first slowed enough to recognize the afflicted, when he did so…he merrily sped away.  Then, it was great sport.  One after another they roared by.  Some honking.  Other’s gesturing.  Some doing the ol’ stop and go trick until, finally--as the not-so-mighty Mr. Jones was on one knee, head down--an ancient, blue, Ford Fiesta rattled to a stop and a lowly laborer put a hand under the sweaty pit of  the executive and helped him into the torn vinyl passenger seat.  As “bump” turned the rig around, Mr. Jones (a half drunk bottled water on his lap); he looked at his rescuer and asked, “Why…why’d you pick me up.”  “Because, sir,” the unshaven replied, “I serve a higher master.  And "He" commands that I must not give way…to hate.  And that (his eyes leaving the road for just a second) includes hating someone…as deserving…as you.”

Breakfast: Toast, and stale Cheetos.  The toast was planned. The cheesy snack; a victim of opportunity. 

Concerning, again, the Arizona law; it has been revealed within the last week that this legislation that supposedly “mirrors” the federal standard, actually falls well short of it.  While the state decree requires a lawful stop before inquiry can be made; the federal “do” requires…nothing.  Yes, just a “hankerin’” on the part of the G-man, and he can get in your face…and demand to see your “papers.”

I gotta tell you; I don’t like it.  Not because we don’t need the illegals out; we do.  But because this kind of power; this kind of anywhere, for any reason, power; leads to abuse.  We’ve all seen it; on the playground, in the neighborhood, or on the job.  When those who are bigger and stronger (some, not all, thankfully) lose their “fear” of judgment, they enter into the realm of oppressor and, with each penalty-free transgression; with each “I got away with it!,” they acquire the undeserved mantle of deity.  And, like all such usurpers before them…they must, and will fall.  Yes, whether it’s bully bob who finally gets a bloody nose, or the sinful, suited CEO who’s justly booted to the curb; bullies all have a day of comeuppance.  But, it would be far better if we did not allow “bullies” to arise in the first place.

So, concerning the Arizona debacle; here’s the solution.  To our Washington politicians:  “Do your stinkin’ job!”  It’s that simple.  Seal the border.  Seal the border. SEAL THE BORDER!  Then, after that, we can decide how to best deal with those already inside.  And, once that’s taken care of, we won’t need Gestapo wannabes slinking along side United States citizens and saying, “Show me your papers!”

That’s what I think.  How about you?  Click comments below…and say.

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